The Demons of Blackwater River Carry Away the Master 


STRANGE 
STORIES 
FROM A 
CHINESE 
STUDIO 

by Pu Sung-
ling 

Translated by 
Herbert Giles 

3rd edition, 1916 

Scanned by Todd 
Compton 

 

The Magic Umbrellas


The Demons of Blackwater River Carry 
Away the Master 

Art from E.T. C. 
Werner, Myths and 
Legends of China 

The Flying Umbrellas 



 

 

Preface by Todd Compton 

Introduction by Hebert Giles 

Section 1: Stories 1-25 

Section 2: Stories 26-57 

Section 3: Stories 58-103 

Section 4: Stories 104-164 and Appendices 

 

 

 

 


Scanners Preface 

Following is a web-publication of the 3rd edition of Herbert Giles translation of Pu 
Sung-lings Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, published in 1916. I read ghost 
stories in the Halloween season every year, and last year decided I would read Pu 
Sung-lings Strange Stories, and then, since it wasnt available on the web (as far as I 
could see), thought I would scan it as I read it, and put it on my website. I include 
Giles notes, introduction and appendices. The notes for each story are found after the 
story. 

No scan is ever perfect, so if readers catch typos, please contact me at toddmagos [at] 
yahoo [dot] com. 

I have tried to follow Giles text exactly, including diacritical marks. In proper names, 
the apostrophe sometimes is  and sometimes . Since accent marks in Giles 
transliteration system always refer to the letter before, it actually makes no difference 
whether the apostrophe is forward or backward-looking. (In Giles text, the 
apostrophe is always .) 

My editing is minimal. However, Giles uses very big paragraphs, and I thought the 
book would be more readable if these were broken up into smaller paragraphs. Very 
occasionally, I add a footnote, for which I use capital letters (e.g., [A], [B]), to 
distinguish it from Giles footnotes. 

Giles was a great sinologist, but published the first edition of Strange Stories from a 
Chinese Studio in 1880, during the Victorian era.1[1] Thus, he left out many stories 
that were erotic or which were viewed as offensive, and he excised erotic or offensive 
passages from the stories he did translate. Two fine modern translations of Pu Sung-
Ling will give the reader a much more complete view of Pu: Denis C. & Victor H. 
Mairs Strange Tales from Make-do Studio (Beijing: Foreign Languages Press, 1989) 
and John Minfords Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio (Penguin Classics 2006).2[2] 
For examples of passages excised from stories, see The Painted Wall and The 
Painted Skin below, in which I have included some of the excised passages, as 
translated by the Mairs and Minford, in footnotes. 

Nevertheless, Giles, for all his Victorian reserve, is a great translator, and his notes are 
superb, offering us an erudite, sometimes practical (as Giles lived for many years in 
China), and always fascinating introduction to Chinese culture, literature, philosophy, 
folklore and history. 

Of course, the translators notes are secondary to the Strange Stories themselves. 
These stories are almost all fantastic, but nevertheless offer a panoramic and almost 
realistic view of Chinese culture, from government hierarchy to the examination 

1[1] Incidentally, this early edition is available at 
http://www.archive.org/details/strangestoriesfr00pusuuoft. 

2[2] See also Pu Sung-ling, Strange Tales from the Liaozhai Studio, 3 vols. (Beijing: 
Peoples China Publishing House, 1997), which includes 194 tales. 


system to religion and ceremonial actions to favorite methods of relaxation (drinking 
bouts through the night, often with supernatural visitants, are common) to typical 
patterns of family life. 

For example, Pu offers considerable insight into the marriage customs of China. As 
readers of my website will know, I have written about nineteenth-century Mormon 
polygamy. Polygamy was widespread in China, and Pu Sung-lings Strange Stories 
often give penetrating insight into what this marriage system was like. In story LXI., 
The Husband Punished, a man named Ching has a liaison with a mysterious 
beautiful young woman, A-hsia. At one point, she demands marriage, and Ching is 
agreeable to the idea, but thinks that his first wife will be a problem: 

Then Ching began to reflect that if he married her [A-hsia] she 
would have to take her place in the family, and that would 
make his first wife jealous; so he determined to get rid of the 
latter, and when she came in he began to abuse her right and 
left. His wife bore it as long as she could, but at length cried 
out it were better she should die; upon which Ching advised 
her not to bring trouble on them all like that, but to go back to 
her own home. He then drove her away, his wife asking all the 
time what she had done to be sent away like this after ten 
years of blameless life with him. Ching, however, paid no heed 
to her entreaties, and when he had got rid of her he set to work 
at once to get the house whitewashed and made generally clean, 
himself being on the tip-toe of expectation for the arrival of 
Miss A-hsia. 

Ching expects problems, serious tensions between the wives, in polygamy, so 
gets rid of the first wife. 

Concubines were an established part of the Chinese marriage system. In a note to 
story LVI, Dr. Tsngs Dream, Giles writes, It is not considered quite correct to 
take a concubine unless the wife is childless, in which case it is held that the 
proposition to do so, and thus secure the much-desired posterity, should emanate from 
the wife herself. However, the concubine lacked the status and legal safeguards of a 
full wife. In Dr. Tsngs Dream, the male protagonist has been reborn as a female 
(and the narrator continues to call him he even though he had become a she!): 

At fourteen years of age he was sold to a gentleman as 
concubine; and then, though food and clothes were not 
wanting, he had to put up with the scoldings and floggings of 
the wife, who one day burnt him with a hot iron. 

Later, the wife falsely accuses him/her of murder, and he/she is tortured to 
death. 

Story XLI., Ta-Nan In Search Of His Father, begins with these sentences: 

HSI CHANG-LIEH was a Chng-tu man. He had a wife and a 
concubine, the latter named Ho Chao-jung. His wife dying, he 
took a second by name Shn, who bullied the concubine 
dreadfully, and by her constant wrangling made his life 


3[3] See Anthony C. Yu, Rest, Rest, Perturbed Spirit! Ghosts in Traditional 
Chinese Prose Fiction, Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 47, No. 2 (Dec. 1987): 
397-434; Michael Loewe, Chinese Ideas of Life and Death: Faith, Myth and Reason 

perfectly unbearable, so that one day in a fit of anger he ran 
away and left them. Shortly afterwards Ho gave birth to a son, 
and called him Ta-nan; but as Hsi did not return, the wife 
Shn turned them out of the house, making them a daily 
allowance of food. 

Clearly, in medieval China, the concubine was often treated badly by the full 
wife or wives. 

There is a happy polygamous family in story LXVI, The Tipsy Turtle. Fng, the 
hero, is thrown in jail by a Prince Su and is released because one of Sus daughters 
has fallen in love with him. In a western fairy tale, he might now marry the Princess, 
end of story; but in this Chinese fairy tale, there is a complication: he is already 
married, and he refuses to become a polygamist out of consideration for the first wife: 

Fng was accordingly liberated, and was also informed of the 
determination of the Princess, which, however, he declined to 
fall in with, saying that he was not going thus to sacrifice the 
wife of his days of poverty, and would rather die than carry out 
such an order. He added that if His Highness would consent, 
he would purchase his liberty at the price of everything he had. 

So Fng must be arrested once again, and one of the palace concubines 
prepares to murder the first wife: 

The Prince was exceedingly angry at this, and seized Fng 
again; and meanwhile one of the concubines got Fngs wife 
into the palace, intending to poison her. Fngs wife, however, 
brought her a beautiful present of a coral stand for a looking-
glass, and was so agreeable in her conversation, that the 
concubine took a great fancy to her, and presented her to the 
Princess, who was equally pleased, and forthwith determined 
that they would both be Fngs wives. 

Giles notes that this kind of happy resolution often occurs in Chinese fiction, 
but rarely in real life. 

For another perspective on Chinese polygamy, see Zhang Yimous 1991 film Raise 
the Red Lantern, which is based on the novel Wives and Concubines (1990) by Su 
Tong. This provides a profoundly bleak view of relations between wives in plural 
marriage. 

But the Strange Stories are above all a wild phantasmagoria of ghosts, were-foxes, 
were-tigers (even one were-turtle), demons, sorcerors (often, in Pu, Taoist priests), 
psychic transmigrations, and journeys into the underworld and other levels of reality 
(as in the famous Painted Wall). These kinds of stories were very popular in China, 
and had been so for centuries, perhaps millennia.3[3] The literary tradition goes back 
to the early A.D. centuries, but the popular tradition probably goes back much earlier. 


in the Han Period (202 B.C.-A.D. 220) (London: George Allen and Unwin, 1982); 
Karl S.Y. Kao, ed. Classical Chinese Tales of the Supernatural and the Fantastic: 
Selections form the Third to the Tenth Century (Bloomington: Indiana University 
Press, 1985); Y.W. Ma and Joseph S. M. Lau, Traditional Chinese Stores: Themes 
and Variations (Boston: Cheng & Tsui Co., 1986); Alvin P. Cohen, Tales of Vengeful 
Souls: A Sixth Century Collection of Chinese Avenging Ghost Stories (Taipei-Paris-
Hongkong: Institut Ricci, 1982); and Kenneth J. DeWoskin and J.I. Crump, Jr., In 
Search of the Supernatural: The Written Record (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 
1996), a translation of a book written by Kan Pao in approximately 335-345 A.D. 

4[4] For further on Pu Sung-ling, see Chun-shu Chang and Shelley Hsueh-lun Chang, 
Redefining History: Ghosts, Spirits, and Human Society in Pu Sung-lings World, 
1640-1715 (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1998); Judith T. Zeitlin, 
Historian of the Strange: Pu Songling and the Chinese Classical Tale (Palo Alto: 
Stanford University Press, 1997); H. C. Chang, tr., Tales of the Supernatural, 3rd 
volume in the series Chinese Literature (New York: Columbia University Press, 
1984), which has a valuable introduction. 

Pu Sung-lings tales are the culmination of this tradition of supernatural and strange 
tales. Pus strange stories from a leisure studio are told beautifully, with great 
concision and elegance. The heroes and heroines spring to life in just a few 
paragraphs. The Western reader will be continually surprised both by fantastic turns 
of plot and by unexpected elements of Chinese culture that often serve as the basis for 
the development of the fantastic situation. 

The heroes of the Western tradition of fantasy are often kings or warriors (or 
adventurous peasants or hobbits). But many of the heroes of Pu Sung-lings tales are 
scholars down on their luck, who have not risen to prestige through the examination 
system, often because the system is corrupt. (For example, see story XCII. Smelling 
Essays.) It is refreshing to see scholars who can cap a verse in a drinking bout or 
write a brilliant essay at the drop of a hat as dashing protagonists. As something of a 
scholar down on my luck myself (entirely due to the failings of our present academic 
system, of course), I am very fond of these scholars who are driven to tutoring or 
fortune-telling to survive financially. 

The reader of Western ghost stories will find many ghosts and (were)foxes and 
malevolent supernatural beings in these tales; but he or she will undoubtedly be 
surprised at how often Pu combined the ghost story with romance (an ancient 
Chinese theme). Our scholar heroes often marry the beautiful revenants who visit 
them as they are trying to study (Chinese ghosts are usually quite corporeal, not see-
through wraiths at all). And these ghost-brides often make good wives, who work 
hard and are dutiful daughters-in-law to their husbands mothers. They also bear fine 
children. 

Hopefully, this scan of the Strange Tales will help introduce readers to the endlessly 
entertaining and enlightening world of Pu Sung-ling.4[4] 


INTRODUCTION by Herbert Giles [p. xi] 

THE barest skeleton of a biography is all that can be formed front the very scanty 
materials which remain to mark the career of a writer whose work has been for the 
best part of two centuries as familiar throughout the length and breadth of China as 
are the tales of the Arabian Nights in all English-speaking communities. The author 
of Strange Stories was a native of Tz.-chuan, in the province of Shantung. His 
family name was Pu; his particular name was Sung-ling, and the designation or 
literary epithet by which, in accordance with Chinese usage, he was commonly known 
among his friends, was Liu-hsien, or Last of the Immortals. A further fancy name, 
given to him probably by some enthusiastic admirer, was Liu-chan, or Willow 
Spring, but he is now familiarly spoken of simply as Pu Sung-ling. We are 
unacquainted with the years of his birth or death; however, by the aid of a meagre 
entry in the History of Tz.-chuan it is possiblee to make a pretty good guess at the 
date of the former event. For we are there told that Pu Sung-ling successfully 
competed for the lowest or bachelors degree before he had reached the age of twenty; 
and that in 1651 he was in the position of a graduate of ten years standing, having 
failed in the interim to take the second, or masters, degree. To this [p. xii] failure, due, 
as we are informed in the history above quoted, to his neglect of the beaten track of 
academic study, we owe the existence of his great work; not, indeed, his only 
production, though the one; by which, as Confucius said of his own Spring and 
Autumn,1 men will know him. All else that we have on record of Pu Sung-ling, 
besides the fact that he lived in close companionship with several eminent scholars of 
the day, is gathered from his own words, written when, in 1679, he laid down his pen 
upon the completion of a task which was to raise him within a short period to a 
foremost rank in the Chinese world of letters. Of that record I here append a close 
translation, accompanied by such notes as are absolutely necessary to make it 
intelligible to non-students of Chinese. 

AUTHORS OWN RECORD 

Clad in wistaria, girdled with ivy;2 thus sang Ch-Ping[3] in his Falling into 
Trouble.4 Of ox-headed devils and serpent Gods,5 he of the long-nails[6] never 
wearied to tell. Each interprets in his own way the music of heaven[7] and whether it 
be discord or not, depends upon, antecedent 

 

1 Annals of the Lu State. 

2 Said of the bogies of the hills, in allusion to their clothes. Here quoted with 
reference to the official classes, in ridicule of the title under which they hold posts 
which, from a literary point of view, they are totally unfit to occupy. 

3 A celebrated statesman (B.C. 332-295) who, having lost his masters favour by the 
intrigues of a rival; finally drowned himself in despair. The annual Dragon Festival is 
said by some to be a Search for his body. The term San L used here was the name 
of an office held by Ch-Ping. 


4 A-poem addressed by Ch-Ping to his Prince, after his disgrace. Its non-success 
was the immediate cause of his death. 

5 That is, of the supernatural generally. 

6 A poet of the Tang dynasty whose eyebrows met, whose nails were very long, and 
who could write very fast. 

7 You know the music of earth, said Chuang Tz.; but you have not heard the 
music of heaven. [p. xiii] 

 

causes.8 As for me, I cannot, with my poor autumn fire-flys light, match 
myself against the hobgoblins of the age.9 I am but the dust in the sunbeam, 
a fit laughing-stock for devils.10 For my talents are not those of Kan Pao,11 
elegant explorer of the records of the Gods; I am rather animated by the 
spirit of Su Tung-po,12 who loved to hear men speak of the supernatural. I 
get people to commit what they tell me to writing and subsequently I dress it 
up in the form of a story and thus in the lapse of time my friends from all 
quarters have supplied me with quantities of material, which, from my habit 
of collecting, has grown into a vast pile.l3 

Human beings, I would point out, are not beyond the pale of fixed laws, and yet there 
are more remarkable phenomena in their midst than in the country of those who crop 
their hair;14 antiquity is unrolled before us, and many tales are to be found therein 
stranger than that of the nation of Flying Heads.15 Irrepressible bursts, and 

 

8 That is, to the operation of some Influence surviving from a previous existence. 

9 This is another hit at the ruling classes. Hsi Kang, a celebrated musician and 
a1chemist (A.D. 223-262), was sitting one night alone, playing upon his lute, when 
suddenly a man with a tiny face walked in, and began to stare hard at him, the 
strangers face enlarging all the time. Im not going to match myself against a devil! 
cried the musician, after a few moments, and instantly blew out the light. 

10 When Liu Chan, governor of Wu-ling, determined to relieve his poverty by trade, 
he saw a devil standing by his side, laughing and rubbing its hands for glee. Poverty 
and wealth are matters of destiny, said Liu Chan,. but to be laughed at by a devil
, and accordingingly he desisted from his intention. 

11 A writer who flourished in the early part of the fourth century, and composed a 
work in thirty books entitled Supernatural Researches. 

12 The famous poet, statesman, and essayist, who, flourished A.D. 1036-1101. 

13 And his friends had the habit off jotting down for his unfailing delight anything 
quaint or comic that they came across.The World on Charles Dickens, July 24, 
1878. 


14 It is related in the Historical Record that when Tai Po and Y Chung fled to the 
southern savages they saw men with tattooed bodies and short hair. 

15 A fabulous community, so called because the heads of the men are in the habit of 
leaving their bodies, and flying down to marshy places to feed on worms and crabs. A 
red ring is seen the night hefore the flight encircling the neck of the man whose head 
is about to fly; at daylight the head returns. Some say that the ears are used as wings, 
others that the hands also leave the body and fly away. [p. xiv] 

 

luxurious ease,16 such was always his enthusiastic strain, For ever 
indulging in liberal thought,17thus he spoke openly without restraint. 
Were men like these to open my book, I should be a laughing-stock to them 
indeed. At the crossroad[18] men will not listen to me, and yet I have some 
knowledge of the three states of existence[19] spoken of beneath the cliff,20 
neither should the words I utter be set aside because of him that utters 
them.21 When the bow[22] was hung at my fathers door, he dreamed that a 
sickly-looking Buddhist priest, but half covered by his stole, entered the 
chamber. On one of his breasts was a round piece of plaster like a cash23 
and my father, waking from sleep, found that I, just born, had a similar 
black patch on my body. As a child, I was thin and constantly ailing, and 
unable to hold my own in the battle of life. Our own home was chill and 
desolate as a monastery and working there for my livelihood with my pen,24 
I was as poor as a priest with his alms-bowl.25 Often and often I put my 
hand to my head26 and exclaimed, 

 

16 A quotation from the admired works of Wang Po, a brilliant scholar and poet, who 
was drowned at the early age of twenty-eight, A.D. 676. 

17 I have hitherto failed in all attempts to identify the particular writer here intended. 
The phrase is used by the poet Li Tai-po and others. 

18 The cross-road of the Five Fathers is here mentioned, which the commentator 
tells us is merely the name of the place. 

19 The past, present, and future life of the Buddhist system of metempsychosis. 

20 A certain man, who was staying at a temple, dreamt that an old priest appeared to 
him beneath a jade-stone cliff, and, pointing to a stick of burning incense, said to him, 
That incense represents a vow to be fulfilled; but I say unto you, that ere its smoke 
shall have curled away, your three states of existence will have been already 
accomplished. The meaning is that time on earth is as nothing to the Gods. 

21 This remark occurs in the fifteenth chapter of the Analects or Confucian Gospels. 

22 The birth. of a boy was formerly signalled by hanging a bow at the door; that of a 
girl, by displaying a small towel-indicative of the parts that each would hereafter play 
in the drama of life. 


23 See Note 2 to No. II. 

24 Literally, ploughing with my pen. 

25 The patra or bowl, used by Buddhist mendicants, in imitation of the celebrated 
alms-dish of Shakyamuni Buddha. 

26 Literally, scratched my head, as is often done by the Chinese in perplexity or 
doubt. [p. xv] 

 

Surely he who sat with his face to the wall[27] was myself in previous state 
of existence; and thus I referred my non-success in this life to the influence 
of a destiny surviving from the last. I have been tossed hither and thither in 
the direction of the ruling wind, like a flower falling in filthy places, but the 
six paths[28] of transmigration are inscrutable indeed, and I have no right to 
complain. As it is, midnight finds me with an expiring lamp, while the wind 
whistles mournfully without and over my cheerless table I piece together my 
tales,29 vainly hoping to produce a sequel to the Infernal Regions.30 With a 
bumper I stimulate my pen, yet I only succeed thereby in venting my 
excited feelings,31 and as I thus commit my thoughts to writing, truly I am 
an object worthy of commiseration. Alas! I am but the bird, that dreading the 
winter frost, finds no shelter in the tree; the autumn insect that chirps to the 
moon, and hugs the door for warmth. For where are they who know me?32 
They are in the bosky grove, and at the frontier pass33wrapped in an 
impenetrable gloom! 

 

27 Alluding to B.dhidharma, who came from India to China, and tried to convert the 
Emperor Wu Ti of the Liang dynasty; but, failing in his attempt, because be insisted 
that real merit lay not in works but in purity and wisdom combined, he retired full of 
mortification to a temple at Sung-shan, where he sat for nine years before a rock, until 
his own Image was imprinted thereon. 

28 The six gati or conditions of existence, namely:angels, men, demons, hungry 
devils, brute beasts, and tortured sinners. 

29 Literally, pulling together the pieces under the forelegs (of foxes) to make robes. 
This part of the fox-skin is the most valuable for making fur clothes. 

30 The work of a well-known writer, named Lin I-ching, who flourished during the 
Sung Dynasty. 

31 Alluding to an essay by Han Fei, a philosopher of the third century in which he 
laments the iniquity of the age in general, and the corruption of officials in particular. 
He finally committed suicide, in prison, where he had been cast by the intrigues of a 
rival minister. 

32 Confucius (Anal. xiv.) said, Alas! there is no one who knows me (to be what I 
am). 


33 The great poet Tu Fu (A. D. 712-770) dreamt that his greater predecessor, Li Tai-
po (A.D. 705-762) appeared to him, coming when the maple-grove was in darkness, 
and returning while the frontier-pass was still obscuredthat is, at night, when no 
one could see him; the meaning being that he never came at all; and that those who 
know me (Pu Sung-ling) are equally non-existent. [p. xv] 

 

From the above curious document the reader will gain some insight into the abstruse, 
but at the same time marvellously beautiful, style of this gifted writer. The whole 
essay for such it is, and among the most perfect of its kindis intended chiefly as a 
satire upon the scholarship of the age; scholarship which had turned the author back to 
the disappointment of a private life, himself conscious all the time of the inward fire 
that had been lent him by heaven. It is the key-note of his own subsequent career, 
spent in the retirement of home, in the society of books and friends; as also to the 
numerous uncomplimentary allusions which occur in all his stories relating to official 
life. Whether or not the world at large has been a gainer by this instance of the 
fallibility of competitive examinations has been already decided in the affirmative by 
the millions of Pu Sung-lings own countrymen, who for the past two hundred years 
have more than made up to him by a posthumous and enduring reverence for the loss 
of those earthly and ephemeral honours which he seems to have coveted so much. 

Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, known to the Chinese as the Liao Chai Chih I, 
or more familiarly, the Liao Chai, has hardly been mentioned by a single foreigner 
without some inaccuracy on the part of the writer concerned. For instance, the late Mr. 
Mayers states in his Chinese Readers Manual, p. 176, that this work was composed 
circa A.D. 1710, the fact being that the collection was actually completed in 1679, 
as we know by the date attached to the  Authors Own Record given above. I should 
mention, however, that the Liao Chai was originally, and for many years, circulated in 
manuscript only. Pu Sung-ling, as we are told in a colophon by his grandson to the 
first edition, was too poor to meet [p. xvii] the heavy expense of block-cutting and it 
was not until so late as 1740, when the author must have been already for some time a 
denizen of the dark land he so much loved to describe, that his aforesaid grandson 
printed and published the collection now universally famous. Since then many 
editions have been laid before the Chinese public, the best of which is that by Tan 
Ming-lun, a Salt Commissioner, who flourished during the reign of Tao Kuang, and 
who in 1842 produced, at his own expense, an excellent edition in sixteen small 
octavo volumes of about 160 pages each. And as various editions will occasionally be 
found to contain various readings, I would here warn students of Chinese who wish to 
compare my rendering; with the text, that it is from the edition of Tan Ming-lun, 
collated with that of Y Chi, published in 1766, that this translation has been made. 
Many have been the commentaries and disquisitions upon the meaning of obscure 
passages and the general scope of this work; to say nothing of the prefaces with which 
the several editions have been ushered into the world. Of the latter, I have selected 
one specimen, from which the reader will be able to form a tolerably accurate opinion 
as to the true nature of these always singular and usually difficult compositions. 

Here it is : 

TANG MNG-LAIS PREFACE 


The common saying, He regards a camel as a horse with a swelled back, trivial of 
itself, may be used in illustration of greater matters. Men are wont to attribute an 
existence only to such things as they daily see with their own eyes, and they marvel at 
whatsoever, appearing before them at one instant, vanishes at the next. And, yet [p. 
xviii] it is not at the sprouting and failing of foliage, nor at the metamorphosis of 
insects that they marvel, but only at the manifestations of the supernatural world; 
though of a truth, the whistling of the wind and the movement of streams, with 
nothing to set the one in motion or give sound to the other, might well be ranked 
among extraordinary phenomena. We are accustomed to these, and therefore do not 
note them. We marvel at devils and foxes: we do not marvel at man. But who is it that 
causes a man to move and to speak?to which question comes the ready answer of 
each individual so questioned, I do. This I do, however, is merely a personal 
consciousness of the facts under discussion. For a man can see with his eyes, but he 
cannot see what it is that makes him see; he can hear with his ears, but he cannot hear 
what it is that makes him hear; how, then, is it possible for him to understand the 
rationale of things he can neither see nor hear? Whatever has come within the bounds 
of their own ocular or auricular experience men regard as proved to be actually 
existing; and only such things.34 But this term  experience may be understood in 
various senses. For instance, people speak of something which has certain attributes 
as form, and of something else which has certain other attributes as substance; 
ignorant as they are that form and substance are to be found existing without those 
particular attributes. Things which are thus constituted are inappreciable, indeed, by 
our ears and eyes, but we cannot argue that therefore they do not exist. Some persons 
can see a mosquitos eye, while to others even a mountain is invisible; some can hear 
the sound of ants battling together, while others, again, fail to catch the roar of a 
thunder-peal. Powers of seeing and hearing vary; there should be no 

 

34 Thus, since countless things exist that the senses can take account of, it is evident 
that nothing exists that the senses can not take account of.The Professor in W. H. 
Mallocks New Paul and Virginia. 

 

This passage recalls another curious classification by the great Chinese philosopher 
Han Wn-kung. There are some things which possess form but are devoid of sound, 
as, for instance, jade and stones; others have sound, but are without form, such as 
wind and thunder; others, again, have both form and sound, such as men and animals; 
and lastly, there is a class devoid of both, namely, devils and spirits. [p. xix] 

reckless imputations of blindness. According to the schoolmen, man at his 
death is dispersed like wind or fire, the origin and end of his vitality being 
alike unknown, and as those who have seen strange phenomena are few, the 
number of those who marvel at them is proportionately great, and the horse 
with a swelled back parallel is very widely applicable. And ever quoting the 
fact that Confucius would have nothing to say on these topics, these 
schoolmen half discredit such works as the Chi chieh chih kuai and the Y 
chu-chii,35 ignorant that the Sages unwillingness to speak had reference 
only to persons of an inferior mental calibre; for his own Spring and Autumn 
can hardly be said to be devoid of all allusions of the kind. Now Pu Liu-


hsien devoted himself in his youth to the marvellous, and as he grew older 
was specially remarkable for his comprehension thereof, and being moreover 
a most elegant writer, he occupied his leisure in recording whatever came to 
his knowledge of a particularly marvellous nature. A volume of these 
compositions of his formerly fell into my hands, and was constantly 
borrowed by friends; now, I have another volume, and of what I read only 
about three-tenths was known to me before. What there is, should be 
sufficient to open the eyes of those schoolmen, though I much fear it will be 
like talking of ice to a butterly. Personally, I disbelieve in the irregularity of 
natural phenomena, and regard as evil spirits only those who injure their 
neighbours. For eclipses, falling stars, the flight of herons, the nest of a 
mainah, talking stones, and the combats of dragons, can hardly be classed 
as irregular; while the phenomena of nature occurring out of season, wars, 
rebellions, and so forth, may certainly be relegated to the category of evil. In 
my opinion the morality of Pu Liu-hsiens work is of a very high standard, 
its object being distinctly to glorify virtue and to censure vice, and as a book 
calculated to elevate mankind, it may be safely placed side by side with the 
philosophical treatises of Yang Hsiung[36] which Huan Tan[37] declared to 
be so worthy or a wide circulation. 

 

35 I have never seen any of these works, but I believe they treat, as implied by their 
titles, chiefly of the supernatural world. 

36. B.C. 53-A.D. 18. 

37. B.C. 13-A.D. 56. [p. xx] 

 

With regard to the meaning of the Chinese words Liao Chai Chih I, this title has 
received indifferent treatment at the hands of different writers. Dr. Williams chose to 
render it by Pastimes of the Study, and Mr. Mayers by The Record of Marvels, or 
Tales of the Genii neither of which is sufficiently near to be regarded in the light of a 
translation. Taken literally and in order, these words stand for Liao-library-record-
strange, Liao being simply a fanciful name given by our author to his private 
library or studio. An apocryphal anecdote traces the origin of this selection to a 
remark once made by himself with reference to his failure for the second degree. 
Alas! he is reported to have said; I shall now have no resource (Liao) for my old 
age and accordingly he so named his study, meaning that in his pen he would seek 
that resource which fate bad denied to him as an official. For this untranslatable 
Liao I have ventured to substitute  Chinese, as indicating more clearly the nature 
of what is to follow. No such title as Tales of the Genii fully expresses the scope of 
this work, which embraces alike weird stories of Taoist devilry and magic, marvellous 
accounts of impossible countries beyond the sea, simple scenes of Chinese everyday 
life, and notices of extraordinary natural phenomena. Indeed, the author once had it in 
contemplation to publish only the more imaginative of the tales in the present 
collection under the title of Devil and Fox Stories but from this scheme he was 
ultimately dissuaded by his friends, the result being the heterogeneous mass which is 
more aptly described by the title I have given to this volume. In a similar manner, I 
too had originally determined to publish a full and complete translation [p. xx] of the 


whole of these sixteen volumes; but on a closer acquaintance many of the stories 
turned out to be quite unsuitable for the age in which we live, forcibly recalling the 
coarseness of our own writers of fiction in the eighteenth century. Others, again, were 
utterly pointless, or mere repetitions in a slightly altered form. From the whole, I 
therefore selected one hundred and sixty-four of the best and most characteristic 
stories, of which eight had previously been published by Mr. Allen in the China 
Review, one by Mr. Mayers in Notes and Queries on China and Japan, two by myself 
in the columns of the Celestial Empire, and four by Dr. Williams in a now forgotten 
handbook of Chinese. The remaining one hundred and forty-nine have never before, 
to my knowledge, been translated into English. To those, however, who can enjoy the 
Liao Chai in the original text, the distinctions between the various stories in felicity of 
plot, originality, and so on, are far less sharply defined, so impressed as each 
competent reader must be by the incomparable style in which even the meanest is 
arrayed. For in this respect, as important now in Chinese eyes as it was with ourselves 
in days not long gone by, the author of the Liao Chai and the rejected candidate 
succeeded in founding a school of his own, in which he has since been followed by 
hosts of servile imitators with more or less success. Terseness is pushed to extreme 
limits; each particle that can be safely dispensed with is scrupulously eliminated; and 
every here and there some new and original combination invests perhaps a single 
word with a force it could never have possessed except under the hands of a perfect 
master of his art. Add to the above, copious allusions and adaptations from a course of 
reading which would seem to have been co-extensive with the whole range of [p. xxii] 
Chinese literature, a wealth of metaphor and an artistic use of figures generally to 
which only the writings of Carlyle form an adequate parallel; and the result is a work 
which for purity and beauty of style is now universally accepted in China as the best 
and most perfect model. Sometimes the story runs along plainly and smoothly enough; 
but the next moment we may be plunged into pages of abstruse text, the meaning of 
which is so involved in quotations from and allusions to the poetry or history of the 
past three thousand years as to be recoverable only after diligent perusal of the 
commentary and much searching in other works of reference. In illustration of the 
popularity of this book, Mr. Mayers once stated that the porter at his gate, the 
boatman at his midday rest, the chair-coolie at his stand, no less than the man of 
letters among his books, may be seen poring with delight over the elegantly-narrated 
marvels of the Liao Chai but he would doubtless have withdrawn this statement in 
later years, with the work lying open before him. During many years in China, I made 
a point of never, when feasible, passing by a reading Chinese without asking 
permission to glance at the volume in his hand and at my various stations in China I 
always kept up a borrowing acquaintance with the libraries of my private or official 
servants; but I can safely affirm that I never once detected the Liao Chai in the hands 
of an ill-educated man. In the same connection, Mr. Mayers observed that fairy-tales 
told in the style of the Anatomy of Melancholy would scarcely be a popular book in 
Great Britain but except in some particular points of contact, the styles of these two 
works could scarcely claim even the most distant of relationships. [p. xxiii] 

Such, then, is the setting of this collection of Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, 
many of which contain, in addition to the advantages of style and plot, a very 
excellent moral. The intention of most of them is, in the actual words of Tang Mng-
lai, to glorify virtue and to censure vice,always, it must be borne in mind, 
according to the Chinese and not to a European interpretation of these terms. As an 
addition to our knowledge of the folk-lore of China, and as a guide to the manners, 


 

 

 

 

customs, and social life of that vast Empire, my translation of the Liao Chai may not 
be wholly devoid of interest. It has now been carefully revised, all inaccuracies of the 
first edition having been, so far as possible, corrected. 

HERBERT A. GILES. 

CAMBRIDGE, July 1908. 

 

5[1] Incidentally, this early edition is available at http://www.amazon.com/Strange-
Stories-Chinese-Studio-Sung-Ling/dp/1410205479. 

6[2] See also Pu Sung-ling, Strange Tales from the Liaozhai Studio, 3 vols. (Beijing: 
Peoples China Publishing House, 1997), which includes 194 tales. 

7[3] See Anthony C. Yu, Rest, Rest, Perturbed Spirit! Ghosts in Traditional 
Chinese Prose Fiction, Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 47, No. 2 (Dec. 1987): 
397-434; Michael Loewe, Chinese Ideas of Life and Death: Faith, Myth and Reason in 
the Han Period (202 B.C.-A.D. 220) (London: George Allen and Unwin, 1982); Karl 
S.Y. Kao, ed. Classical Chinese Tales of the Supernatural and the Fantastic: 
Selections form the Third to the Tenth Century (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 
1985); Y.W. Ma and Joseph S. M. Lau, Traditional Chinese Stores: Themes and 
Variations (Boston: Cheng & Tsui Co., 1986); Alvin P. Cohen, Tales of Vengeful Souls: 
A Sixth Century Collection of Chinese Avenging Ghost Stories (Taipei-Paris-Hongkong: 
Institut Ricci, 1982); and Kenneth J. DeWoskin and J.I. Crump, Jr., In Search of the 
Supernatural: The Written Record (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1996), a 
translation of a book written by Kan Pao in approximately 335-345 A.D. 

8[4] For further on Pu Sung-ling, see Chun-shu Chang and Shelley Hsueh-lun 
Chang, Redefining History: Ghosts, Spirits, and Human Society in Pu Sung-lings 
World, 1640-1715 (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1998); Judith T. Zeitlin, 
Historian of the Strange: Pu Songling and the Chinese Classical Tale (Palo Alto: 
Stanford University Press, 1997); H. C. Chang, tr., Tales of the Supernatural, 3rd 
volume in the series Chinese Literature (New York: Columbia University Press, 1984), 
which has a valuable introduction. 


STRANGE STORIES FROM A CHINESE STUDIO 

by Pu Sung-ling 

 

Section 1 

 

Introductions 

Section 2: Stories 26-57 

Section 3: Stories 58-103 

Section 4: Stories 104-164 and Appendices 

 

I. EXAMINATION FOR THE POST OF GUARDIAN ANGEL[1] 

MY eldest sisters husbands grandfather, named Sung Tao, was a graduate.2 One day, 
while lying down from indisposition, an official messenger arrived, bringing the usual 
notification in his hand and leading a horse with a white forehead to summon him to 
the examination for his masters degree. Mr. Sung here remarked that the Grand 
Examiner had not yet come, and asked why there should be this hurry. The messenger 
did not reply to this, but pressed so earnestly that at length Mr. Sung roused himself, 
and getting upon the horse rode with him. 

The way seemed strange, and by-and-by they reached a city which resembled the 
capital of a prince. They then entered the Prefects yamn,3 the apartments of which 
were beautifully decorated; and there they found some ten officials sitting at the upper 
end, all strangers to Mr. Sung, with the exception of one whom he recognised to be 
the God of War.4 In the verandah were two tables and two stools, and at the end of 
one of the former a candidate was already seated, [p. 2] so Mr. Sung sat down 
alongside of him. On the table were writing materials for each, and suddenly down 
flew a piece of paper with a theme on it, consisting of the following eight words:
One man, two men; by intention, without intention. When Mr. Sung had finished 
his essay, he took it into the hall. It contained the following passage: Those who are 
virtuous by intention, though virtuous, shall not be rewarded. Those who are wicked 
without intention, though wicked, shall receive no punishment. 

The presiding deities praised this sentiment very much, and calling Mr. Sung to come 
forward, said to him, A Guardian Angel is wanted in Honan. Go you and take up the 
appointment. Mr. Sung no sooner heard this than he bowed his head and wept, 
saying, Unworthy though I am of the honour you have conferred upon me, I should 
not venture to decline it but that my aged mother has reached her seventh decade, and 
there is no one now to take care of her. I pray you let me wait until she has fulfilled 
her destiny, when I will hold myself at your disposal. Thereupon one of the deities, 
who seemed to be the chief, gave instructions to search out his mothers term of life, 
and a long-bearded attendant forthwith brought in the Book of Fate. On turning it over, 
he declared that she still had nine years to live; and then a consultation was held 
among the deities, in the middle of which the God of War said, Very well. Let Mr. 
graduate Chang take the post, and be relieved in nine years time. Then, turning to 
Mr. Sung, he continued, You ought to proceed without delay to your post; but as a 
reward for your filial piety, you are granted a furlough of nine years. At the expiration 
of that time you will receive another summons. He next addressed a few kind words 
to Mr. Chang; and the two candidates, having made their kotow, went away together. 
Grasping Mr. Sungs hand, his companion, who gave Chang Chi of Chang-shan 


as his name and address, accompanied him beyond the city walls and gave him a 
stanza of poetry at parting. I cannot recollect it all, but in it occurred this couplet: 

With wine and flowers we chase the hours, 

In one eternal spring: 

No moon, no light, to cheer the night, 

Thyself that ray must bring. [p. 3] 

 

Mr. Sung here left him and rode on, and before very long reached his own home; here 
he awaked as if from a dream, and found that he had been dead three days,5 when his 
mother, hearing a groan in the coffin, ran to it and helped him out. It was some time 
before he could speak, and then he at once inquired about Chang-shan, where, as it 
turned out, a graduate named Chang had died that very day. 

Nine years afterwards, Mr. Sungs mother, in accordance with fate, passed from this 
life; and when the funeral obsequies were over, her son, having first purified himself, 
entered into his chamber and died also. Now his wifes family lived within the city, 
near the western gate; and all of a sudden they beheld Mr. Sung, accompanied by 
numerous chariots and horses with carved trappings and red-tasselled bits, enter into 
the hall, make an obeisance, and depart. They were very much disconcerted at this, 
not knowing that he had become a spirit, and rushed out into the village to make 
inquiries, when they heard he was already dead. Mr. Sung had an account of his 
adventure written by himself; but unfortunately after the insurrection it was not to be 
found. This is only an outline of the story. 

 

1 The tutelar deity of every Chinese city. 

2 That is, he had taken the first or bachelors degree. I shall not hesitate to use strictly 
English equivalents for all kinds of Chinese terms. The three degrees are literally, (1) 
Cultivated Talent, (2) Raised Man, and (3) Promoted Scholar. 

3 The official residence of a mandarin above a certain rank. 

4 The Chinese Mars. A celebrated warrior, named Kuan Y, who lived about the 
beginning of the third century of our era. He was raised after death to the rank of a 
God, and now plays a leading part in the Chinese Pantheon. 

5 Catalepsy, which is the explanation of many a story in this collection, would appear 
to be of very common occurrence among the Chinese. Such, however, is not the case. 

II. THE TALKING PUPILS 

AT Chang-ngan there lived a scholar, named Fang Tung, who though by no means 
destitute of ability was a very unprincipled rake, and in the habit of following and 
speaking to any woman he might chance to meet. The day before the spring festival of 
Clear Weather,l he was strolling about outside the city when he saw a small carriage 
with red curtains and an embroidered awning, followed by a crowd of waiting-maids 


on horseback, one of whom was exceedingly pretty, and riding on a small palfrey. 
Going closer to get a better view, Mr. Fang noticed that the carriage curtain was partly 
open, and inside he beheld a [p. 4] beautifully dressed girl of about sixteen, lovely 
beyond anything he had ever seen. Dazzled by the sight, he could not take his eyes off 
her; and, now before, now behind, he followed the carriage for many a mile. 

By-and-by he heard the young lady call out to her maid, and, when the latter came 
alongside, say to her, Let down the screen for me. Who is this rude fellow that keeps 
on staring so? The maid accordingly let down the screen, and looking angrily at Mr. 
Fang said to him, This is the bride of the Seventh Prince in the City of Immortals 
going home to see her parents, and no village girl that you should stare at her thus. 
Then taking a handful of dust, she threw it at him and blinded him. He rubbed his 
eyes and looked round, but the carriage and horses were gone. 

This frightened him, and he went off home, feeling very uncomfortable about the eyes. 
He sent for a doctor to examine his eyes, and on the pupils was found a small film, 
which had increased by next morning, the eyes watering incessantly all the time. The 
film went on growing, and in a few days was as thick as a cash.2 On the right pupil 
there came a kind of spiral, and as no medicine was of any avail, the sufferer gave 
himself up to grief and wished for death. 

He then thought he might repent of his misdeeds, and hearing that the Kuang-ming 
sutra could relieve misery, he got a copy and hired a man to teach it to him. At first it 
was very tedious work, but by degrees he became more composed, and spent the 
whole day in a posture of devotion, telling his beads. 

At the end of a year he had arrived at a state of perfect calm, when one day he heard a 
small voice, about as loud as a flys, calling out from his left eye: Its horridly dark 
in here. To this he heard a reply from the right eye, saying, Let us go out for a stroll, 
and cheer ourselves up a bit. Then he felt a wriggling in his nose which made it itch, 
just as if something was going out of each of the nostrils; and after a while he felt it 
again as if going the other way. Afterwards he heard a voice from one eye say, I 
hadnt seen the garden for a long time: the epidendrums [p. 5] are all withered and 
dead. Now Mr. Fang was very fond of these epidendrums, of which he had planted a 
great number, and had been accustomed to water them himself; but since the loss of 
his sight he had never even alluded to them. Hearing, however, these words, he at 
once asked his wife why she had let the epidendrums die. She inquired how he knew 
they were dead, and when he told her she went out to see, and found them actually 
withered away. 

They were both very much astonished at this, and his wife proceeded to conceal 
herself in the room. She then observed two tiny people, no bigger than a bean, come 
down from her husbands nose and run out of the door, where she lost sight of them. 
In a little while they came back and flew up to his face, like bees or beetles seeking 
their nests. 

This went on for some days, until Mr. Fang heard from the left eye, This roundabout 
road is not at all convenient. It would be as well for us to make a door. To this the 
right eye answered, My wall is too thick: it wouldnt be at all an easy job. Ill try 
and open mine, said the left eye, and then it will do for both of us. Whereupon Mr. 


Fang felt a pain in his left eye as if something was being split, and in a moment he 
found he could see the tables and chairs in the room. He was delighted at this and told 
his wife, who examined his eye and discovered an opening in the film, through which 
she could see the black pupil shining out beneath, the eyeball itself looking like a 
cracked pepper-corn. 

By next morning the film had disappeared, and when his eye was closely examined it 
was observed to contain two pupils. The spiral on the right eye remained as before; 
and then they knew that the two pupils had taken up their abode in one eye. Further, 
although Mr. Fang was still blind of one eye, the sight of the other was better than that 
of the two together. From this time he was more careful of his behaviour, and 
acquired in his part of the country the reputation of a virtuous man.3 [p. 6] 

 

1 One of the twenty-four solar terms. It falls on or about the 5th of April, and is the 
special time for worshipping at the family tombs. 

2 The common European name for the only Chinese coin, about twenty of which go 
to a penny. Each has a square hole in the middle, for the convenience of stringing 
them together; hence the expression strings of cash. 

3 The belief that the human eye contains a tiny being of the human shape is universal 
in China. It originated, of course, from the reflection of oneself that is seen on looking 
into the pupil of anybodys eye or even, with the aid of a mirror, into ones own. 

III. THE PAINTED WALL 

A KIANG-SI gentleman, named Mng Lung-Tan, was lodging at the capital with a 
Mr. Chu, M.A., when one day chance led them to a certain monastery, within which 
they found no spacious halls or meditation chambers, but only an old priest in 
dshabill. On observing the visitors, he arranged his dress and went forward to meet 
them, leading them round and showing whatever there was to be seen. In the chapel 
they saw an image of Chih Kung, and the walls on either side were beautifully painted 
with life-like representations of men and animals. 

On the east side were pictured a number of fairies, among whom was a young girl 
whose maiden tresses were not yet confined by the matrons knot. She was picking 
flowers and gently smiling, while her cherry lips seemed about to move, and the 
moisture of her eyes to overflow. Mr. Chu gazed for a long time without taking his 
eyes off her, until at last he became unconscious of anything but the thoughts that 
were engrossing him. Then, suddenly he felt himself floating in the air, as if riding on 
a cloud, and found himself passing through the wall,l where halls and pavilions 
stretched away one after another, unlike the abodes of mortals. Here an old priest was 
preaching the Law of Buddha, surrounded by a large crowd of listeners. Mr. Chu 
mingled with the throng, and after a few moments perceived a gentle tug at his sleeve. 

Turning round, he saw the young girl above-mentioned, who walked laughing away. 
Mr. Chu at once followed her, and passing a winding balustrade arrived at a small 
apartment beyond which he dared not venture farther. But the young lady, looking 


back, waved the flowers she had in her hand as though beckoning him to come on. He 
accordingly entered and found nobody else within. Then they fell on their knees and 
worshipped heaven and earth together,2 and rose up as man and wife,[A] after which 
the bride went away, bidding Mr. Chu keep quiet until she came back. 

This went on for a couple of days, when the [p. 7] young ladys companions began to 
smell a rat and discovered Mr. Chus hiding-place. Thereupon they all laughed and 
said, My dear, you are now a married woman, and should leave off that maidenly 
coiffure.[B] So they gave her the proper hair-pins and head ornaments, and bade her 
go bind her hair, at which she blushed very much but said nothing. Then one of them 
cried out, My sisters, let us be off. Twos company, mores none. At this they all 
giggled again and went away. 

Mr. Chu found his wife very much improved by the alteration in the style of her hair. 
The high top-knot and the coronet of pendants were very becoming to her.[C] But 
suddenly they heard a sound like the tramping of heavy-soled boots, accompanied by 
the clanking of chains and the noise of angry discussion. The bride jumped up in a 
fright, and she and Mr. Chu peeped out. They saw a man clad in golden armour, with 
a face as black as jet, carrying in his hands chains and whips, and surrounded by all 
the girls. He asked, Are you all here? All, they replied. If, said he, any mortal 
is here concealed amongst you, denounce him at once, and lay not up sorrow for 
yourselves. Here they all answered as before that there was no one. The man then 
made a movement as if he would search the place, upon which the bride was 
dreadfully alarmed, and her face turned the colour of ashes. In her terror she said to 
Mr. Chu, Hide yourself under the bed, and opening a small lattice in the wall, 
disappeared herself. Mr. Chu in his concealment hardly dared to draw his breath; and 
in a little while he heard the boots tramp into the room and out again, the sound of the 
voices getting gradually fainter and fainter in the distance. This reassured him, but he 
still heard the voices of people going backwards and forwards outside; and having 
been a long time in a cramped position, his ears began to sing as if there was a locust 
in them, and his eyes to burn like fire. It was almost unbearable; however, he 
remained quietly awaiting the return of the young lady without giving a thought to the 
why and wherefore of his present position. 

Meanwhile, Meng Lung-tan had noticed the sudden disappearance of his friend, and 
thinking something was wrong, asked the priest where he was. He has gone to [p. 8] 
hear the preaching of the Law, replied the priest. Where? said Mr. Meng. Oh, not 
very far, was the answer. Then with his finger the old priest tapped the wall and 
called out, Friend Chu! what makes you stay away so long? At this, the likeness of 
Mr. Chu was figured upon the wall, with his ear inclined in the attitude of one 
listening. The priest added, Your friend here has been waiting for you some time; 
and immediately Mr. Chu descended from the wall, standing transfixed like a block of 
wood, with starting eyeballs and trembling legs. Mr. Meng was much terrified, and 
asked him quietly what was the matter. Now the matter was that while concealed 
under the bed he had heard a noise resembling thunder and had rushed out to see what 
it was. 

Here they all noticed that the young lady on the wall with the maidens tresses had 
changed the style of her coiffure to that of a married woman. Mr. Chu was greatly 


astonished at this and asked the old priest the reason. He replied, Visions have their 
origin in those who see them:[D] what explanation can I give? 

This answer was very unsatisfactory to Mr. Chu; neither did his friend, who was 
rather frightened, know what to make of it all; so they descended the temple steps and 
went away. 

 

1 Which will doubtless remind the reader of Alice through the Looking-glass, and 
what she saw there. 

2 The all-important item of a Chinese marriage ceremony; amounting, in fact, to 
calling God to witness the contract. 

[A] Minford: and where with no delay he embraced her and, finding her to be far 
from unreceptive, proceeded to make love to her. There is nothing here about 
marriage. Which makes Giless note 2 almost comical. 

[B] Minford: Look at you! they teased the girl. Youve most probably got a baby 
on the way by now, and still you wear your hair like a little girl. 

[C] Giles simply removes this passage: They were alone again and soon fell to 
further sports of love, his senses suffused with the heady perfume that emanated from 
her body, a scent of orchid mingled with musk. As translated by Minford. 

[D] Minford renders this: The source of illusion lies within man himself. 

IV. PLANTING A PEAR-TREE 

A COUNTRYMAN was one day selling his pears in the market. They were unusually 
sweet and fine flavoured, and the price he asked was high. A Taoist[1] priest in rags 
and [p 9] tatters stopped at the barrow and begged one of them. The countryman told 
him to go away, but as he did not do so he began to curse and swear at him. The priest 
said, You have several hundred pears on your barrow; I ask for a single one, the loss 
of which, Sir, you would not feel. Why then get angry? The lookers-on told the 
country-man to give him an inferior one and let him go, but this he obstinately refused 
to do. Thereupon the beadle of the place, finding the commotion too great, purchased 
a pear and handed it to the priest. The latter received it with a bow and turning to the 
crowd said, We who have left our homes and given up all that is dear to us[2] are at a 
loss to understand selfish niggardly conduct in others. Now I have some exquisite 
pears which I shall do myself the honour to put before you. Here. somebody asked, 
Since you have pears yourself, why dont you eat those? Because, replied the 
priest, I wanted one of these pips to grow them from. 

So saying he munched up the pear; and when he had finished took a pip in his hand, 
unstrapped a pick from his back, and proceeded to make a hole in the ground, several 
inches deep, wherein he deposited the pip, filling in the earth as before. He then asked 
the bystanders for a little hot water to water it with, and one among them who loved a 
joke fetched him some boiling water from a neighbouring shop. The priest poured this 


over the place where he had made the hole, and every eye was fixed upon him when 
sprouts were seen shooting up, and gradually growing larger and larger. By-and-by, 
there was a tree with branches sparsely covered with leaves; then flowers, and last of 
all fine, large, sweet-smelling pears hanging in great profusion. These the priest 
picked and handed round to the assembled crowd until all were gone, when he took 
his pick and hacked away for a long time at the tree, finally cutting it down. This he 
shouldered, leaves and all, and sauntered quietly away. 

Now, from the very beginning, our friend the countryman had been amongst [p. 10] 
the crowd, straining his neck to see what was going on, and forgetting all about his 
business. At the departure of the priest he turned round and discovered that every one 
of his pears was gone. He then knew that those the old fellow had been giving away 
so freely were really his own pears. Looking more closely at the barrow, he also 
found that one of the handles was missing, evidently having been newly cut off. 
Boiling with rage, he set out in pursuit of the priest, and just as he turned the corner he 
saw the lost barrow-handle lying under the wall, being in fact the very pear-tree the 
priest had cut down. But there were no traces of the priestmuch to the amusement 
of the crowd in the market-place. 

 

1 That is, of the religion of Tao, a system of philosophy founded some six centuries 
before the Christian era by a man named Lao-tz., Old boy, who was said to have 
been born with white hair and a beard. It is now but a shadow of its former self, and is 
corrupted by the grossest forms of superstition borrowed from Buddhism, which has 
in its turn adopted many of the forms and beliefs of Taoism, so that the two religions 
are hardly distinguishable one from the other. 

What seemed to me the most singular circumstance connected 
with the matter, was the presence of half a dozen Taoist priests, 
who joined in all the ceremonies doing everything that the 
Buddhist priests did, and presenting very odd appearance, with 
their top-knots and cues, among their closely shaven Buddhist 
brethren. It seemed strange that the worship of Sakyamuni by 
celibate Buddhist priests, with shaved heads, into which holes 
were duly burned at their initiation, should be participated in 
by married Taoist Priests, whose heads are not wholly shaven, 
and have never been burned.Initiation of Buddhist Priests at 
Kooshan, by S. L. B. 

Taoist priests are credited with a knowledge of alchemy and the black art in general. 

2 A celibate priesthood belongs properly to Buddhism, and is not a doctrine of the 
Taoist church. 

V. THE TAOIST PRIEST OF LAO-SHAN 

THERE lived in our village a Mr. Wang, the seventh son in an old family. This 
gentleman had a penchant for the Taoist religion; and hearing that at Lao-shan there 
were plenty of Immortals,1 shouldered his knapsack and went off for a tour thither. 
Ascending a peak of the mountain he reached a secluded monastery, where he found a 


priest sitting on a rush mat, with long hair flowing over his neck, and a pleasant 
expression on his face. Making a low bow, Wang addressed him thus: Mysterious 
indeed is the doctrine: I pray you, Sir, instruct me therein. Delicately nurtured and 
wanting in energy as you are, replied the priest, I fear you could not support the 
fatigue. Try me, said Wang. So when the disciples, who were very many in 
number, collected together at dusk, Wang joined them in making obeisance to the 
priest, and remained with them in the monastery. 

Very early next morning the priest summoned Wang, and giving him a hatchet sent 
him out with the others to cut firewood. Wang respectfully obeyed, continuing to 
work for over a month until his hands and feet were so swollen and blistered [p. 11] 
that he secretly meditated returning home. 

One evening when he came back he found two strangers sitting drinking with his 
master. It being already dark, and no lamp or candles having been brought in, the old 
priest took some scissors and cut out a circular piece of paper like a mirror, which he 
proceeded to stick against the wall. Immediately it became a dazzling moon, by the 
light of which you could have seen a hair or a beard of corn. 

The disciples all came crowding round to wait upon them, but one of the strangers 
said, On a festive occasion like this we ought all to enjoy ourselves together. 
Accordingly he took a kettle of wine from the table and presented it to the disciples, 
bidding them drink each his fill; whereupon our friend Wang began to wonder how 
seven or eight of them could all be served out of a single kettle. The disciples, too, 
rushed about in search of cups, each struggling to get the first drink for fear the wine 
should be exhausted. Nevertheless, all the candidates failed to empty the kettle, at 
which they were very much astonished, when suddenly one of the strangers said, 
You have given us a fine bright moon; but its dull work drinking by ourselves. Why 
not call Chang-ngo[2] to join us? He then seized a chop-stick and threw it into the 
moon, whereupon a lovely girl stepped forth from its beams. At first she was only a 
foot high, but on reaching the ground lengthened to the ordinary size of woman. She 
had a slender waist and a beautiful neck, and went most gracefully through the Red 
Garment figure.3 When this was finished she sang the following words: 

Ye fairies! Ye fairies! Im coming back soon, 

Too lonely and cold is my home in the moon. 

 

Her voice was clear and well sustained, ringing like the notes of a flageolet, and when 
she had concluded her song she pirouetted round and jumped up on the table, where, 
with every eye fixed in astonishment upon her, she once more became a chop-stick. 

The three friends laughed [p. 12] loudly, and one of them said, We are very jolly to-
night, but I have hardly room for any more wine. Will you drink a parting glass with 
me in the palace of the moon? They then took up the table and walked into the moon, 
where they could be seen drinking so plainly that their eyebrows and beards appeared 
like reflections in a looking-glass. By-and-by the moon became obscured; and when 
the disciples brought a lighted candle they found the priest sitting in the dark alone. 
The viands, however, were still upon the table and the mirror-like piece of paper on 
the wall. Have you all had enough to drink? asked the priest; to which they 


answered that they had. In that case, said he, you had better get to bed, so as not to 
be behind-hand with your wood-cutting in the morning. So they all went off, and 
among them Wang, who was delighted at what he had seen, and thought no more of 
returning home. 

But after a time he could not stand it any longer; and as the priest taught him no 
magical arts he determined not to wait, but went to him and said, Sir, I have travelled 
many long miles for the benefit of your instruction. If you will not teach me the secret 
of Immortality, let me at any rate learn some trifling trick, and thus soothe my 
cravings for a knowledge of your art. I have now been here two or three months, 
doing nothing but chop firewood, out in the morning and back at night, work to which 
I was never accustomed in my own home. Did I not tell you, replied the priest, 
that you would never support the fatigue? Tomorrow I will start you on your way 
home. Sir, said Wang, I have worked for you a long time. Teach me some small 
art, that my coming here may not have been wholly in vain. What art? asked the 
priest. Well, answered Wang, I have noticed that whenever you walk about 
anywhere, walls and so on are no obstacle to you. Teach me this, and Ill be satisfied. 
The priest laughingly assented, and taught Wang a formula which he bade him recite. 
When he had done so he told him to walk through the wall; but Wang, seeing the wall 
in front of him, didnt like to walk at it. As, however, the priest bade him try, he 
walked quietly up to it and was there stopped. The priest here called out, Dont go so 
slowly. Put your head down and rush at it. So Wang stepped back [p. 13] a few paces 
and went at it full speed; and the wall yielding to him as he passed, in a moment he 
found himself outside. Delighted at this, he went in to thank the priest, who told him 
to be careful in the use of his power, or otherwise there would be no response, 
handing him at the same time some money for his expenses on the way. 

When Wang got home, he went about bragging of his Taoist friends and his contempt 
for walls in general; but as his wife disbelieved his story, he set about going through 
the performance as before. Stepping back from the wall, he rushed at it full speed with 
his head down; but coming in contact with the hard bricks, finished up in a heap on 
the floor. His wife picked him up and found he had a bump on his forehead as big as a 
large egg, at which she roared with laughter; but Wang was overwhelmed with rage 
and shame, and cursed the old priest for his base ingratitude. 

 

1 The angels of Taoismimmortality in a happy land being the reward held out for 
a life on earth in accordance with the doctrines of Tao. Taoist priests are believed by 
some to possess an elixir of immortality in the form of a precious liquor; others again 
hold that the elixir consists solely in a virtuous conduct of life. 

2 The beautiful wife of a legendary chieftain named Hou I, who flourished about 2500 
B.C. She is said to have stolen from her husband the elixir of immortality, and to have 
fled with it to the moon. 

3 The name of a celebrated pas seul of antiquity. 


VI. THE BUDDHIST PRIEST OF CHANGCHING 

AT Chang-ching there lived a Buddhist priest of exceptional virtue and purity of 
conduct, who, though over eighty years of age, was still hale and hearty. One day he 
fell down and could not move; and when the other priests rushed to help him up, they 
found he was already gone. The old priest was himself unconscious of death, and his 
soul flew away to the borders of the province of Honan. Now it chanced that the scion 
of an old family residing in Honan had gone out that very day with some ten or a 
dozen followers to hunt the hare with falcons;1 [p. 14] but his horse having run away 
with him he fell off and was killed. Just at that moment the soul of the priest came by 
and entered into the body, which thereupon gradually recovered consciousness. The 
servants crowded round to ask him how he felt, when opening his eyes wide, he cried 
out, How did I get here? They assisted him to rise, and led him into the house, 
where all his ladies came to see him and inquire how he did. In great amazement he 
said, I am a Buddhist priest. How came I hither? His servants thought he was 
wandering, and tried to recall him by pulling his ears. As for himself, he could make 
nothing of it, and closing his eyes refrained from saying anything further. For food he 
would only eat rice, refusing all wine and meat; and avoided the society of his wives.2 

After some days he felt inclined for a stroll, at which all his family were delighted; 
but no sooner had he got outside and stopped for a little rest than he was besieged by 
servants begging him to take their accounts as usual. However, he pleaded illness and 
want of strength, and no more was said. He then took occasion to ask if they knew the 
district of Chang-ching, and on being answered in the affirmative expressed his 
intention of going thither for a trip, as he felt anxious about those he had left to their 
own resources, at the same time bidding the servants look after his affairs at home. 
They tried to dissuade him from this on the ground of his having but recently risen 
from a sick bed; but he paid no heed to their remonstrances, and on the very next day 
set out. 

Arriving in the Chang-ching district, he found everything unchanged; and without 
being put to the [p. 15] necessity of asking the road, made his way straight to the 
monastery. His former disciples received him with every token of respect as an 
honoured visitor; and in reply to his question as to where the old priest was, they 
informed him that their worthy teacher had been dead for some time. On asking to be 
shown his grave, they led him to a spot where there was a solitary mound some three 
feet high, over which the grass was not yet green. Not one of them knew his motives 
for visiting this place; and by-and-by he ordered his horse, saying to the disciples, 
Your master was a virtuous priest. Carefully preserve whatever relics of him you 
may have, and keep them from injury. They all promised to do this, and he then set 
off on his way home. 

When he arrived there, he fell into a listless state and took no interest in his family 
affairs. So much so, that after a few months he ran away and went straight to his 
former home at the monastery, telling the disciples that he was their old master. This 
they refused to believe, and laughed among themselves at his pretensions; but he told 
them the whole story, and recalled many incidents of his previous life among them, 
until at last they were convinced. He then occupied his old bed and went through the 
same daily routine as before, paying no attention to the repeated entreaties of his 
family, who came with carriages and horses to beg him to return. 


About a year subsequently, his wife sent one of the servants with splendid presents of 
gold and silk, all of which he refused with the exception of a single linen robe. And 
whenever any of his old friends passed this monastery, they always went to pay him 
their respects, finding him quiet, dignified, and pure. He was then barely thirty, 
though he had been a priest for more than eighty years.3 [p. 16] 

 

1 This form of sport may still be seen in the north of China. A hare being started, two 
Chinese greyhounds (which are very slow) are slipped from their leash in pursuit. But, 
as the hare would easily run straight away from them, a falcon is released almost 
simultaneously. The latter soars to a considerable height, and then swoops down on 
the hare, striking it a violent blow with the pounce, or claw. This partially stuns the 
hare, and allows the dogs to regain lost ground, by which time the hare is ready once 
more, and off they go again. The chase is ended by the hare getting to earth in a foxs 
burrow, or being ultimately overtaken by the dogs. In the latter case the heart and 
liver are cut out on the spot, and given to the falcon; otherwise he would hunt no more 
that day. Two falcons are often released, one shortly after the other. They wear hoods, 
which are removed at the moment of flying, and are attached by a slip-string from one 
leg to the falconers wrist. During the night previous to a days hunting they are not 
allowed to sleep. Each falconer lies down with one falcon on his left wrist, and keeps 
up an incessant tapping with the other hand on the birds head. This is done to make 
them fierce. Should the quarry escape, a hares skin is thrown down, by which means 
the falcons are secured, and made ready for a further flight. Occasionally, but rarely, 
the falcon misses its blow at the hare, with the result of a broken or injured arm. 

2 Abstinence from wine and meat, and celibacy, are among the most important rules 
of the Buddhist church, as specially applied to its priesthood. At the door of every 
Buddhist monastery may be seen a notice that No wine or meat may enter here! 
Even the laity are not supposed to drink wine. 

3 Having renewed his youth by assuming the body of the young man into which his 
soul had entered. 

VII. THE MARRIAGE OF THE FOXS DAUGHTER 

A PRESIDENT of the Board of Civil Office,l named Yin, and a native of Li-chng, 
when a young man, was very badly off, but was endowed with considerable physical 
courage. Now in this part of the country there was a large establishment, covering 
several acres, with an unbroken succession of pavilions and verandahs, and belonging 
to one of the old county families; but because ghosts and apparitions were frequently 
seen there, the place had for a long time remained untenanted, and was overgrown 
with grass and weeds, no one venturing to enter in even in broad daylight. One 
evening when Yin was carousing with some fellow-students, one of them jokingly 
said, If anybody will pass a night in the haunted house, the rest of us will stand him a 
dinner. Mr. Yin jumped up at this, and cried out, What is there difficult in that? So, 
taking with him a sleeping-mat, he proceeded thither, escorted by all his companions 
as far as the door, where they laughed and said, We will wait here a little while. In 
case you see anything, shout out to us at once. If there are any goblins or foxes, 
replied Yin, Ill catch them for you. 


He then went in, and found the paths obliterated by long grass, which had sprung up, 
mingled with weeds of various kinds. It was just the time of the new moon, and by its 
feeble light he was able to make out the door of the house. Feeling his way, he walked 
on until he reached the back pavilion, and then went up on to the Moon Terrace, 
which was such a pleasant spot that he determined to stop there. Gazing westwards, 
he sat for a long time looking at the moona, single thread of light embracing in its 
horns the peak of a hill[2]without hearing anything at all unusual; so, laughing to 
himself at the nonsense people talked, he spread his mat upon the floor, put a stone 
under his head for a pillow, and lay down to sleep. 

He had watched the Cow-herd and the Lady[3] [p. 17] until they were just 
disappearing, and was on the point of dropping off, when suddenly he heard footsteps 
down below coming up the stairs. Pretending to be asleep, he saw a servant enter, 
carrying in his hand a lotus-shaped lantern,4 who, on observing Mr. Yin, rushed back 
in a fright, and said to some one behind, There is a stranger here! The person 
spoken to asked who it was, but the servant did not know; and then up came an old 
gentleman, who, after examining Mr. Yin closely, said, Its the future President: hes 
as drunk as can be. We neednt mind him; besides, hes a good fellow, and wont give 
us any trouble. So they walked in and opened all the doors; and by-and-by there were 
a great many other people moving about, and quantities of lamps were lighted, till the 
place was as light as day. 

About this time Mr. Yin slightly changed his position, and sneezed; upon which the 
old man, perceiving that he was awake, came forward and fell down on his knees, 
saying, Sir, I have a daughter who is to be married this very night. It was not 
anticipated that Your Honour would be here. I pray, therefore, that we may be 
excused. Mr. Yin got up and raised the old man, regretting that, in his ignorance of 
the festive occasion, he had brought with him no present.5 Ah, Sir, replied the old 
man, your very presence here will ward off all noxious influences; and that is quite 
enough for us. He then begged Mr. Yin to assist in doing the honours, and thus 
double the obligation already conferred. 

Mr. Yin readily assented, and went inside to look at the gorgeous arrangements they 
had made. He was here met by a lady, apparently about forty years of age, whom the 
old gentleman introduced as his wife; and he had hardly made his bow when he heard 
the sound of flageolets,6 and some one came hurrying in, saying, He has come! The 
old gentleman flew out to meet this personage, and Mr. Yin also stood up, awaiting 
his arrival. In no long time, a bevy of people with gauze lanterns ushered in the 
bridegroom himself, who seemed, to be about seventeen or eighteen years old, and of 
a most refined and prepossessing appearance. The old gentleman [p. 18] bade him pay 
his respects first to their worthy guest; and upon his looking towards Mr. Yin, that 
gentleman came forward to welcome him on behalf of the host. Then followed 
ceremonies between the old man and his son-in-law; and when these were over, they 
all sat down to supper. 

Hosts of waiting-maids brought in profuse quantities of wine and meats, with bowls 
and cups of jade or gold, till the table glittered again. And when the wine had gone 
round several times, the old gentleman told one of the maids to summon the bride. 
This she did, but some time passed and no bride came. So the old man rose and drew 
aside the curtain, pressing the young lady to come forth; whereupon a number of 


women escorted out the bride, whose ornaments went tinkle tinkle as she walked 
along, sweet perfumes being all the time diffused around. Her father told her to make 
the proper salutation, after which she went and sat by her mother. Mr. Yin took a 
glance at her, and saw that she wore on her head beautiful ornaments made of 
kingfishers feathers, her beauty quite surpassing anything he had ever seen. All this 
time they had been drinking their wine out of golden goblets big enough to hold 
several pints, when it flashed across him that one of these goblets would be a capital 
thing to carry back to his companions in evidence of what he had seen. So he secreted 
it in his sleeve, and pretending to be tipsy,7 leaned forward with his head upon the 
table as if going off to sleep. The gentleman is drunk, said the guests; and by-and-
by Mr. Yin heard the bridegroom take his leave, and there was a general trooping 
downstairs to the tune of a wedding march. 

When they were all gone the old gentleman collected the goblets, one of which was 
missing, though they hunted high and low to find it. Some one mentioned the sleeping 
guest; but the old gentleman stopped him at once for fear Mr. Yin should hear, and 
before long silence reigned [p. 19] throughout. Mr. Yin then arose. It was dark, and he 
had no light; but he could detect the lingering smell of the food, and the place was 
filled with the fumes of wine. 

Faint streaks of light now appearing in the east, he began quietly to make a move, 
having first satisfied himself that the goblet was still in his sleeve. Arriving at the door, 
he found his friends already there; for they had been afraid he might come out after 
they left, and go in again early in the morning. When he produced the goblet they 
were all lost in astonishment; and on hearing his story, they were fain to believe it, 
well knowing that a poor student like Yin was not likely to have such a valuable piece 
of plate in his possession. 

Later on Mr. Yin took his doctors degree, and was appointed magistrate over the 
district of Fei-chiu, where there was an old-established family of the name of Chu. 
The head of the family asked him to a banquet in honour of his arrival, and ordered 
the servants to bring in the large goblets. After some delay a slave-girl came and 
whispered something to her master which seemed to make him very angry. Then the 
goblets were brought in, and Mr. Yin was invited to drink. He now found that these 
goblets were of precisely the same shape and pattern as the one he had at home, and at 
once begged his host to tell him where he had had these made. Well, said Mr. Chu, 
there should be eight of them. An ancestor of mine had them made, when he was a 
minister at the capital, by an experienced artificer. They have been handed down in 
our family from generation to generation, and have now been carefully laid by for 
some time; but I thought we would have them out today as a compliment to your 
Honour. However, there are only seven to be found. None of the servants can have 
touched them, for the old seals of ten years ago are still upon the box, unbroken. I 
dont know what to make of it. Mr. Yin laughed, and said, It must have flown away! 
Still, it is a pity to lose an heirloom of that kind; and as I have a very similar one at 
home, I shall take upon myself to send it to you. 

When the banquet was over, Mr. Yin went home, and taking out his own goblet, sent 
it off to Mr. Chu. The latter was somewhat surprised to find that it was identical with 
his own, and hurried away to thank [p. 20] the magistrate for his gift, asking him at 
the same time how it had come into his possession. Mr. Yin told him the whole story, 


which proves conclusively that although a fox may obtain possession of a thing, even 
at a distance of many hundred miles, he will not venture to keep it altogether.8 

 

1 One of the Six Boards (now Seven) at the capital, equivalent to our own War 
Office, Board of Works, &c. 

2 Which, of course, is impossible. 

3 The Chinese names for certain stars: beta gamma Aquilae and alpha Lyrae. 

4 Lanterns very prettily made to resemble all kinds of flowers are to be seen at the 
Chinese New Year. 

5 This is, as with us, obligatory on all friends invited to a marriage. 

6 The accompaniment of all weddings and funerals in China. 

7 The soberest people in the world, amongst whom anything like sottishness is 
comparatively unknown, think it no disgrace, but rather complimentary, to get 
pleasantly tipsy on all festive occasions; and people who are physically unable to do 
so frequently go so far as to hire substitutes to drink for them. Mandarins specially 
suffer very much from the custom of being obliged to take wine with a large 
number of guests. For further on this subject, see No. LIV., note 1. 

8 The wedding-party was, of course, composed entirely of foxes, this animal being 
believed by the Chinese to be capable of appearing at will under the human form, and 
of doing either good or evil to its friends or foes. These facts will be prominently 
brought out in several of the stories to follow. 

VIII. MISS CHIAO-NO 

KUNG HSEH-LI was a descendant of Confucius.1 He was a man of considerable 
ability, and an excellent poet.2 A fellow-student, to whom he was much attached, 
became magistrate at Tien-tai, and sent for Kung to join him. Unfortunately, just 
before Kung arrived his friend died, and he found himself without the means of 
returning home; so he took up his abode in a Buddhist monastery, where he was 
employed in transcribing for the priests. 

Several hundred paces to the west of this monastery there was a house belonging to a 
Mr. Shan, a gentleman who had known better days, but who had spent all his money 
in a heavy law-suit; and then, as his family was a small one, had gone away to live in 
the country and left his house vacant. One day there was a heavy fall of snow which 
kept visitors away from the monastery; and Kung, finding it dull, went out. As he 
was passing by the door of the above-mentioned house, a young man of very elegant 
appearance came forth, who, the moment he saw Kung, ran up to him, and with a 
bow, entered into conversation, asking him to be pleased to walk in. Kung was much 
taken with the young man, and followed him inside. The [p. 21] rooms were not 
particularly large, but adorned throughout with embroidered curtains, and from the 


walls hung scrolls and drawings by celebrated masters. On the table lay a book, the 
title of which was Jottings from Paradise and turning over its leaves, Kung found 
therein many strange things. He did not ask the young man his name, presuming that 
as he lived in the Shan family mansion, he was necessarily the owner of the place. 
The young man, however, inquired what he was doing in that part of the country, and 
expressed great sympathy with his misfortunes, recommending him to set about 
taking pupils. Alas! said Kung, who will play the Maecenas to a distressed 
wayfarer like myself? If, replied the young man, you would condescend so far, I 
for my part would gladly seek instruction at your hands. Kung was much gratified at 
this, but said he dared not arrogate to himself the position of teacher, and begged 
merely to be considered as the young mans friend. He then asked him why the house 
had been shut up for so long; to which the young man replied, This is the Shan 
family mansion. It has been closed all this time because of the owners removal into 
the country. My surname is Huang-fu, and my home is in Shen-si; but as our house 
has been burnt down in a great fire, we have put up here for a while. Thus Mr. Kung 
found out that his name was not Shan. That evening they spent in laughing and talking 
together, and Kung remained there for the night. 

In the morning a lad came in to light the fire; and the young man, rising first, went 
into the private part of the house. Mr. Kung was sitting up with the bed-clothes still 
huddled round him, when the lad looked in and said, Masters coming! So he 
jumped up with a start, and in came an old man with a silvery beard, who began to 
thank him, saying, I am very much obliged to you for your condescension in 
becoming my sons tutor. At present he writes a villainous hand; and I can only hope 
you will not allow the ties of friendship to interfere with discipline. Thereupon, he 
presented Mr. Kung with an embroidered suit of clothes, a sable hat, and a set of 
shoes and stockings; and when the latter had washed and dressed himself he called for 
wine and food. Kung could not make out what the valances of the chairs and tables 
were made of; they [p. 22] were so very bright-coloured and dazzling. By-and-by, 
when the wine had circulated several times, the old gentleman picked up his walking-
stick and took his leave. After breakfast the young man handed in his theme, which 
turned out to be written in an archaic style, and not at all after the modern fashion of 
essay-writing. Kung asked him why he had done this, to which the young man 
replied that he did not contemplate competing at the public examinations. 

In the evening they had another drinking-bout, but it was agreed that there should be 
no more of it after that night. The young man then called the boy and told him to see 
if his father was asleep or not; adding that if he was, he might quietly summon Miss 
Perfume. The boy went off, first taking a guitar out of a very pretty case; and in a few 
minutes in came a very nice-looking young girl. The young man bade her play the 
Death of Shun;3 and seizing an ivory plectrum she swept the chords, pouring forth a 
vocal melody of exquisite sweetness and pathos. He then gave her a goblet of wine to 
drink, and it was midnight before they parted. 

Next morning they got up early and settled down to work. The young man proved an 
apt scholar: he could remember what he had once read, and at the end of two or three 
months had made astonishing progress. Then they agreed that every five days they 
would indulge in a symposium, and that Miss Perfume should always be of the party. 
One night when the wine had gone into Kungs head, he seemed to be lost in a 
reverie; whereupon his young friend, who knew what was the matter with him, said. 


This girl was brought up by my father. I know you find it lonely, and I have long 
been looking out for a nice wife for you. Let her only resemble Miss Perfume, said 
Kung, and she will do. Your experience, said the young man, laughing, is but 
limited, and, consequently, anything is a surprise to you. If Miss Perfume is your beau 
ideal, why, it will not be difficult to satisfy you. [p. 23] 

Some six months had passed away, when one day Mr. Kung took it into his head that 
he would like to go out for a stroll in the country. The entrance, however, was 
carefully closed; and on asking the reason, the young man told him that his father 
wished to receive no guests for fear of causing interruption to his studies. So Kung 
thought no more about it; and by-and-by, when the heat of summer came on, they 
moved their study to a pavilion in the garden. At this time Mr. Kung had a swelling 
on the chest about as big as a peach, which, in a single night, increased to the size of a 
bowl. There he lay groaning with the pain, while his pupil waited upon him day and 
night. He slept badly and took hardly any food; and in a few days the place got so 
much worse that he could neither eat nor drink. The old gentleman also came in, and 
he and his son lamented over him together. 

Then the young man said, I was thinking last night that my sister, Chiao-no, would 
be able to cure Mr. Kung, and accordingly I sent over to my grandmothers asking 
her to come. She ought to be here by now. 

At that moment a servant entered and announced Miss Chiao-no, who had come with 
her cousin, having been at her aunts house. Her father and brother ran out to meet her, 
and then brought her in to see Mr. Kung. She was between thirteen and fourteen 
years old, and had beautiful eyes with a very intelligent expression in them, and a 
most graceful figure besides. No sooner had Mr. Kung beheld this lovely creature 
than he quite forgot to groan, and began to brighten up. Meanwhile the young man 
was saying, This respected friend of mine is the same to me as a brother. Try, sister, 
to cure him. Miss Chiao-no immediately dismissed her blushes, and rolling up her 
long sleeves approached the bed to feel his pulse.4 As she was grasping his wrist, 
Kung became conscious of a perfume more delicate than that of the epidendrum; and 
then she laughed, saying, This illness was to be expected; for the heart is touched. 
Though it is severe, a cure can be effected; but, as there is already a swelling, not 
without using the knife. Then [p. 24] she drew from her arm a gold bracelet which 
she pressed down upon the suffering spot, until by degrees the swelling rose within 
the bracelet and overtopped it by an inch and more, the outlying parts that were 
inflamed also passing under, and thus very considerably reducing the extent of the 
tumour: With one hand she opened her robe and took out a knife with an edge as keen 
as paper, and pressing the bracelet down all the time with the other, proceeded to cut 
lightly round near the root of the swelling. The dark blood gushed forth, and stained 
the bed and the mat; but Mr. Kung was delighted to be near such a beauty, not only 
felt no pain, but would willingly have continued the operation that she might sit by 
him a little longer. In a few moments the whole thing was removed, and looked like a 
growth which had been cut off a tree. 

Here Miss Chiao-no called for water to wash the wound, and from between her lips 
she took a red pill as big as a bullet, which she laid upon the flesh, and, after drawing 
the skin together, passed round and round the place. The first turn felt like the searing 
of a hot iron; the second like a gentle itching; and at the third he experienced a 


sensation of lightness and coolness which penetrated into his very bones and marrow. 
The young lady then returned the pill to her mouth, and said, He is cured, hurrying 
away as fast as she could. 

Mr. Kung jumped up to thank her, and found that his complaint had quite 
disappeared. Her beauty, however, had made such an impression on him that his 
troubles were hardly at an end. From this moment he gave up his books, and took no 
interest in anything. This state of things was soon noticed by the young man, who said 
to him, My brother, I have found a fine match for you. Who is it to be? asked 
Kung. Oh, one of the family, replied his friend. Thereupon Mr. Kung remained 
some time lost in thought, and at length said, Please dont! Then turning his face to 
the wall, he repeated these lines: 

Speak not of lakes and streams to him who once has seen the 
sea; 

The clouds that circle Wus peak are the only clouds for me.5 

 

The young man guessed to whom he was alluding, and replied, My father has a very 
high opinion of your talents [25] and would gladly receive you into the family, but 
that he has only one daughter, and she is much too young. My cousin, Ah-sung, 
however, is seventeen years old, and not at all a bad-looking girl. If you doubt my 
word, you can wait in the verandah until she takes her daily walk in the garden, and 
thus judge for yourself. This Mr. Kung acceded to, and accordingly saw Miss 
Chiao-no come out with a lovely girlher black eyebrows beautifully arched, and her 
tiny feet encased in phoenix-shaped shoesas like one another as they well could be. 
He was of course delighted, and begged the young man to arrange all preliminaries; 
and the very next day his friend came to tell him that the affair was finally settled. 

A portion of the house was given up to the bride and bridegroom, and the marriage 
was celebrated with plenty of music and hosts of guests, more like a fairy wedding 
than anything else. Mr. Kung was very happy, and began to think that the position of 
Paradise had been wrongly laid down, until one day the young man came to him and 
said, For the trouble you have been at in teaching me, I shall ever remain your debtor. 
At the present moment, the Shan family law-suit has been brought to a termination, 
and they wish to resume possession of their house immediately. We therefore propose 
returning to Shen-si, and as it is unlikely that you and I will ever meet again, I feel 
very sorrowful at the prospect of parting. Mr. Kung replied that he would go too, 
but the young man advised him to return to his old home. This, he observed, was no 
easy matter; upon which the young man said, Dont let that trouble you: I will see 
you safe there. By-and-by his father came in with Mr. Kungs wife, and presented 
Mr. Kung with one hundred ounces of gold; and then the young man gave the 
husband and wife each one of his hands to grasp, bidding them shut their eyes. The 
next instant they were floating away in the air, with the wind whizzing in their ears. In 
a little while he said, You have arrived, and opening his eyes, Kung beheld his 
former home. Then he knew that the young man was not a human being. Joyfully he 
knocked at the old door, and his mother was astonished to see him arrive with such a 
nice wife. They were all rejoicing together, when he turned round and found that his 
friend had disappeared. 


His wife attended [p. 26] on her mother-in-law with great devotion, and acquired a 
reputation both for virtue and beauty, which was spread round far and near. Some 
time passed away, and then Mr. Kung took his doctors degree, and was appointed 
Governor of the Gaol in Yen-ngan. He proceeded to his post with his wife only, the 
journey being too long for his mother, and by-and-by a son was born. 

Then he got into trouble by being too honest an official, and threw up his appointment; 
but had not the wherewithal to get home again. One day when out hunting he met a 
handsome young man riding on a nice horse, and seeing that he was staring very hard 
looked closely at him. It was young Huang-fu. So they drew bridle, and fell to 
laughing and crying by turns,the young man then inviting Kung to go along with 
him. They rode on together until they had reached a village thickly shaded with trees, 
so that the sun and sky were invisible overhead, and entered into a most elaborately-
decorated mansion, such as might belong to an old-established family. Kung asked 
after Miss Chiao-no, and heard that she was married; also that his own mother-in-law 
was dead, at which tidings he was greatly moved. 

Next day he went back and returned again with his wife. Chiao-no also joined them, 
and taking up Kungs child, played with it, saying, Your mother played us truant. 
Mr. Kung did not forget to thank her for her former kindness to him, to which she 
replied, Youre a great man now. Though the wound has healed, havent you 
forgotten the pain yet? Her husband, too, came to pay his respects, returning with her 
on the following morning. 

One day the young Huang-fu seemed troubled in spirit, and said to Mr. Kung, A 
great calamity is impending. Can you help us? Mr. Kung did not know what he was 
alluding to, but readily promised his assistance. The young man then ran out and 
summoned the whole family to worship in the ancestral hall, at which Mr. Kung was 
alarmed, and asked what it all meant. You know, answered the young man, I am 
not a man but a fox. To-day we shall be attacked by thunder;6 and if only you will aid 
us in our trouble, we may still [p. 27] hope to escape. If you are unwilling, take your 
child and go, that you may not be involved with us. Mr. Kung protested he would 
live or die with them, and so the young man placed him with a sword at the door, 
bidding him remain quiet there in spite of all the thunder. He did as he was told, and 
soon saw black clouds obscuring the light until it was all as dark as pitch. Looking 
round, he could see that the house had disappeared, and that its place was occupied by 
a huge mound and a bottomless pit. In the midst of his terror, a fearful peal was heard 
which shook the very hills, accompanied by a violent wind and driving rain. Old trees 
were torn up, and Mr. Kung became both dazed and deaf. Yet he stood firm until he 
saw in a dense black column of smoke a horrid thing with a sharp beak and long 
claws, with which it snatched some one from the hole, and was disappearing up with 
the smoke. In an instant Kung knew by her clothes and shoes that the victim was no 
other than Chiao-no, and instantly jumping up he struck the devil violently with his 
sword, and cut it down. Immediately the mountains were riven, and a sharp peal of 
thunder laid Kung dead upon the ground. 

Then the clouds cleared away, and Chiao-no gradually came round, to find Kung 
dead at her feet. She burst out crying at the sight, and declared that she would not live 
since Kung had died for her. Kungs wife also came out, and they bore the body 
inside. Chiao-no then made Ah-sung hold her husbands head, while her brother 


prised open his teeth with a hair-pin, and she herself arranged his jaw. She next put a 
red pill into his mouth, and bending down breathed into him. The pill went along with 
the current of air, and presently there was a gurgle in his throat, and he came round. 
Seeing all the family about him, he was disturbed as if waking from a dream. 

However, they were all united together, and fear gave place to joy; but Mr. Kung 
objected to live in that out-of-the-way place, and proposed that they should return 
with him to his native village. To this they were only too pleased to assentall except 
Chiao-no; and when Mr. Kung invited her husband, Mr. Wu, as well, she said she 
feared her father and mother-in-law would not like to lose the children. They had tried 
all day to persuade her, but without success, when suddenly in rushed one of the Wu 
familys servants, dripping with perspiration and [p. 28] quite out of breath. They 
asked what was the matter, and the servant replied that the Wu family had been 
visited by a calamity on the very same day, and had every one perished. Chiao-no 
cried very bitterly at this, and could not be comforted; but now there was nothing to 
prevent them from all returning together. Mr. Kung went into the city for a few days 
on business, and then they set to work packing-up night and day. 

On arriving at their destination, separate apartments were allotted to young Mr. 
Huang-fu, and these he kept carefully shut up, only opening the door to Mr. Kung 
and his wife. Mr. Kung amused himself with the young man and his sister Chiao-no, 
filling up the time with chess,7 wine, conversation, and good cheer, as if they had 
been one family. His little boy, Huan, grew up to be a handsome young man, but with 
a touch of the fox in his composition; so that when he showed himself abroad, he was 
immediately recognised as the son of a fox. 

 

1 Lineal descendants of Confucius are to be found at this day living together as a clan, 
near their founders mausoleum in Shantung. The head of the family is an hereditary 
hung or duke, and each member enjoys a share of the revenues with which the 
family has been endowed, in well-merited recognition of the undying influence of 
Chinas greatest sage. 

2 More or less proficiency in the art of poetry is an absolutely essential qualification 
for all who present themselves at the great competitive tests by which successful 
candidates are admitted to Chinese official life. 

3 One of the two celebrated but legendary rulers of China in the golden ages of 
antiquity. Yaowho abdicated 2357 B.C. nominated as his successor a young and 
virtuous husbandman named Shun, giving him both his daughters in marriage. At the 
death of Shun, these ladies are said to have wept so much that their tears literally 
drenched the bamboos which grew beside their husbands grave; and the speckled 
bamboo is now commonly known as the bamboo of Shuns wives. 

4 Volumes have been written by Chinese doctors on the subject of the pulse. They 
profess to distinguish as many as twenty-four different kinds, among which is one 
well known to our own practitionersnamely, the thready pulse; they, moreover, 
make a point of feeling the pulses of both wrists. 


5 By a famous poet, named Yan Chn, A.D. 779-831. 

6 The Chinese believe that wicked people are struck by the God of Thunder, and 
killed in punishment for some hidden crime. They regard lightning merely as an 
arrangement with a mirror by which the God is enabled to see his victim. 

7 Chinese chess is similar to, but not identical with our game. The board is divided 
by a river, and the king is confined to a small square of moves on his own territory. 
The game par excellence in China is wei-chi, an account of which I contributed to the 
Temple Bar magazine for January 1877. 

IX. MAGICAL ARTS 

A CERTAIN Mr. Y was a spirited young fellow, fond of boxing and trials of 
strength. He was able to take two kettles and swing them round about with the speed 
of the wind. Now, during the reign of Chung Chng,1 when up for the final 
examination at the capital, his servant became seriously ill. Much troubled at this, he 
applied to a necromancer in the market-place2 who was skilful at determining [p. 29] 
the various leases of life allotted to men. Before he had uttered a word, the 
necromancer asked him, saying, Is it not about your servant, Sir, that you would 
consult me? Mr. Y was startled at this, and replied that it was. The sick man, 
continued the necromancer, will come to no harm; you, Sir, are the one in danger. 
Mr. Y then begged him to cast his nativity, which he proceeded to do, finally saying 
to Mr. Y, You have but three days to live! Dreadfully frightened, he remained 
some time in a state of stupefaction, when the necromancer quietly observed that he 
possessed the power of averting this calamity by magic, and would exert it for the 
sum of ten ounces of silver. But Mr. Y reflected that Life and Death are already 
fixed,3 and he didnt see how magic could save him. So he refused, and was just 
going away, whereupon the necromancer said, You grudge this trifling outlay. I hope 
you will not repent it. 

Mr. Ys friends also urged him to pay the money, advising him rather to empty his 
purse than not secure the necromancers compassion. Mr. Y, however, would not 
hear of it, and the three days slipped quickly away. Then he sat down calmly in his 
inn to see what was going to happen. Nothing did happen all day, and at night he shut 
his door and trimmed the lamp; then, with a sword at his side, he awaited the 
approach of death. 

By-and-by, the clepsydra[4] showed that two hours had already gone without bringing 
him any nearer to dissolution; and he was thinking about lying down, when he [p. 30] 
heard a scratching at the window, and then saw a tiny little man creep through, 
carrying a spear on his shoulder, who, on reaching the ground, shot up to the ordinary 
height. Mr. Y seized his sword and at once struck at it; but only succeeded in cutting 
the air. His visitor instantly shrank down small again, and made an attempt to escape 
through the crevice of the window; but Y redoubled his blows and at last brought 
him to the ground. Lighting the lamp, he found only a paper man,5 cut right through 
the middle. 

This made him afraid to sleep, and he sat up watching, until in a little time he saw a 
horrid hobgoblin creep through the same place. No sooner did it touch the ground 


than he assailed it lustily with his sword, at length cutting it in half. Seeing, however, 
that both halves kept on wriggling about, and fearing that it might get up again, he 
went on hacking at it. Every blow told, giving forth a hard sound, and when he came 
to examine his work, he found a clay image all knocked to pieces. 

Upon this he moved his seat near to the window, and kept his eye fixed upon the 
crack. After some time, he heard a noise like, a bull bellowing outside the window, 
and something pushed against the window-frame with such force as to make the 
whole house tremble and seem about to fall. Mr. Y, fearing he should be buried 
under the ruins, thought he could not do better than fight outside; so he accordingly 
burst open the door with a crash and rushed out. There he found a huge devil, as tall 
as the house, and he saw by the dim light of the moon that its face was as black as 
coal. [p. 31] Its eyes shot forth yellow fire: it had nothing either upon its shoulders or 
feet; but held a bow in its hand and had some arrows at its waist. Mr. Y was terrified; 
and the devil discharged an arrow at him which he struck to the ground with his sword. 
On Mr. Y preparing to strike, the devil let off another arrow which the former 
avoided by jumping aside, the arrow quivering in the wall beyond with a smart crack. 
The devil here got very angry, and drawing his sword flourished it like a whirlwind, 
aiming a tremendous blow, at Mr. Y. Mr. Y ducked, and the whole force of the 
blow fell upon the stone wall of the house, cutting it right in two. Mr. Y then ran out 
from between the devils legs, and began hacking at its backwhack! whack! The 
devil now became furious, and roared like thunder, turning round to get another blow 
at his assailant. But Mr. Y again ran between his legs, the devils sword merely 
cutting off a piece of his coat. Once more he hacked awaywhack!whack! and at 
length the devil came tumbling down flat. Mr. Y cut at him right and left, each blow 
resounding like the watchmans wooden gong,6 and then, bringing a light, he found it 
was a wooden image about as tall as a man. The bow and arrows were still there, the 
latter attached to its waist. Its carved and painted features were most hideous to 
behold; and wherever Mr. Y had struck it with his sword, there was blood. 

Mr. Y sat with the light in his hand till morning, when he awaked to the fact that all 
these devils had been sent by the necromancer in order to kill him, and so evidence 
his own magical power. The next day, after having told the story far and wide, he 
went with some others to the place where the necromancer had his stall; but the latter, 
seeing them coming, vanished in the twinkling of an eye. Some one observed that the 
blood of a dog would reveal a person who had made himself invisible, and Mr. Y 
immediately procured some and went back with it. The necromancer disappeared as 
before, but on the spot where he had been standing they quickly threw down the dogs 
blood. Thereupon they saw his head and face all smeared [p. 32] over with blood, his 
eyes glaring like a devils; and at once seizing him, they handed him over to the 
authorities, by whom he was put to death. 

 

1 The last emperor of the Ming dynasty. Began to reign A.D. 1628. 

2 The trade of fortune-teller is one of the most flourishing in China. A large majority 
of the candidates who are unsuccessful at the public examinations devote their 
energies in this direction; and in every Chinese city there are regular establishments 
whither the superstitious people repair to consult the oracle on every imaginable 


subject;not to mention hosts of itinerant soothsayers, both in town and country, 
whose stock-in-trade consists of a trestle-table, pen, ink, and paper, and a few other 
mysterious implements of their art. The nature of the response, favourable or 
otherwise, is determined by an inspection of the year, month, day, and hour at which 
the applicant was born, taken in combination with other particulars referring to the 
question at issue. 

3 A firm belief in predestination is an important characteristic of the Chinese mind. 
All is destiny is a phrase daily in the mouth of every man, woman, and child, in the 
empire. Confucius himself, we are told, objected to discourse to his disciples upon 
this topic; but it is evident from many passages in the Lun Y, or Confucian Gospels 
[Book vi. ch. 8, Book xiv. ch. 38, &c.], that he believed in a certain pre-arrangement 
of human affairs, against which all efforts would be unavailing. 

4 An appliance of very ancient date in China, now superseded by cheap clocks and 
watches. A large clepsydra, consisting of four copper jars standing on steps one above 
the other, is still, however, to be seen in the city of Canton, and is in excellent 
working order, the night-watches being determined by reference to its indicator in the 
lower jar. By its aid, coils of joss-stick, or pastille, are regulated to burn so many 
hours, and are sold to the poor, who use them both for the purpose of guiding their 
extremely vague notions of time, and for lighting the oft-recurring tobacco-pipe. 

5 Paper men are a source of great dread to the people at large. During the year 1876 
whole provinces were convulsed by the belief that some such superstitious agency 
was at work to deprive innocent persons of their tails; and the so-called Pope of the 
Taoist religion even went so far as to publish a charm against the machinations of the 
unseen. It ran as follows:Ye who urge filthy devils to spy out the people!the 
Masters spirits are at hand and will soon discover you. With this charm anyone may 
travel by sunlight, moonlight, or starlight all over the earth. At one time popular 
excitement ran so high that serious consequences were anticipated; and the mandarins 
in the affected districts found it quite as much as they could do to prevent lynch-law 
being carried out on harmless strangers who were unlucky enough to give rise to the 
slightest suspicion. 

Taoist priests are generally credited with the power of cutting out human, animal, or 
other figures, of infusing vitality into them on the spot, and of employing them for 
purposes of good or evil. 

6 Watchmen in China, when on their nightly rounds, keep up an incessant beating on 
what, for want of a better term, we have called a wooden gong. The object is to let 
thieves know they are awake and on the lookout. 

X. JOINING THE IMMORTALS 

A MR. Chou, of Wn-tng, had in his youth been fellow-student with a Mr. Chng, 
and a firm friendship was the result. The latter was poor, and depended very much 
upon Chou, who was the elder of the two. He called Chous wife his sister, and had 
the run of the house just as if he was one of the family. Now this wife happening to 
die in child-bed, Chou married another named Wang; but as she was quite a young 
girl, Chng did not seek to be introduced.l 


One day her younger brother came to visit her, and was being entertained in the 
inner apartments[2] when Chng chanced to call. The servant announced his 
arrival, and Chou bade him ask Mr. Chng in. But Chng would not enter, and took 
his leave. Thereupon Chou caused the entertainment to be moved into the public part 
of the house, and, sending after Chng, succeeded in bringing him back. They had 
hardly sat down before someone came in to say that a former servant of the 
establishment had been severely beaten at the magistrates yamn; the facts of the 
case being that a cow-boy of the Huang family connected with the Board of Rites had 
driven his cattle across the Chou familys land, and that words had arisen between the 
two servants in consequence; upon which the Huang familys servant had complained 
to his master, who had seized the other and had sent him in to the magistrates, where 
he had been bambooed. When Mr. Chou found out what the matter was, he was 
exceedingly angry, and said, How dares this pig-boy fellow behave thus? Why, only 
a generation ago his master was my fathers servant! He emerges a little from his 
obscurity, and immediately thinks himself I dont [p. 33] know what! Swelling with 
rage, he rose to go in quest of Huang, but Chng held him back, saying, The age is 
corrupt: there is no distinction between right and wrong. Besides, the officials of the 
day are half of them thieves, and you will only get yourself into hot water. Chou, 
however, would not listen to him; and it was only when tears were added to 
remonstrances that he consented to let the matter drop. But his anger did not cease, 
and he lay tossing and turning all night. 

In the morning he said to his family, I can stand the insults of Mr. Huang; but the 
magistrate is an officer of the Government, and not the servant of influential people. If 
there is a case of any kind, he should hear both plaintiff and defendant, and not act 
like a dog, biting anybody he is set upon. I will bring an action against the cow-boy, 
and see what the magistrate will do to him. As his family rather egged him on, he 
accordingly proceeded to the magistrates and entered a formal plaint; but that 
functionary tore up his petition, and would have nothing to do with it. This roused 
Chous anger, and he told the magistrate plainly what he thought of him, in return for 
which contempt of court he was at once seized and bound. 

During the forenoon Mr. Chng called at his house, where he learnt that Chou had 
gone into the city to prosecute the cow-boy, and immediately hurried after him with a 
view to stop proceedings. But his friend was already in the gaol, and all he could do 
was to stamp his foot in anger. Now it happened that three pirates had just been 
caught; and the magistrate and Huang, putting their heads together, bribed these 
fellows to say that Chou was one of their gang, whereupon the higher authorities were 
petitioned to deprive him of his status as a graduate,3 and the magistrate then had him 
most unmercifully barnbooed.4 

Mr. Chng gained admittance to the gaol, and, after a painful interview, proposed 
that a petition should [p. 34] be presented direct to the Throne. Alas! said Chou, 
here am I bound and guarded, like a bird in a cage. I have indeed a young brother, 
but it is as much as he can do to provide me with food. Then Chng stepped forward, 
saying, I will perform this service. Of what use are friends who will not assist in the 
hour of trouble? 

So away he went, and Chous brother provided him with money to defray his 
expenses. After a long journey he arrived at the capital, where he found himself quite 


at a loss as to how he should get the petition presented. However, hearing that the 
Emperor was about to set out on a hunting tour, he concealed himself in the market-
place, and when His Majesty passed by, prostrated himself on the ground with loud 
cries and gesticulations. The Emperor received his petition, and sent it to the Board of 
Punishments,5 desiring to be furnished with a report on the case. It was then more 
than ten months since the beginning of the affair, and Chou, who had been made to 
confess[6] to this false charge, was already under sentence of death; so that the 
officers of the Board were very much alarmed when they received the Imperial 
instructions, and set to work to re-hear the case in person. 

Huang was also much alarmed, and devised a plan for killing Mr. Chou by bribing the 
gaolers to stop his food and drink; so that when his brother brought provisions he was 
rudely thrust back and prevented from taking them in. Mr. Chng complained of this 
to the Viceroy of the province, who investigated the matter himself, and found that 
Chou was in the last stage of starvation, for which the gaolers were bambooed to 
death. Terrified out of his wits, Huang, by dint of bribing heavily, succeeded in 
absconding and escaping a just punishment for his crimes. The magistrate, however, 
was banished for perversion of the law, and Chou was permitted to return home, his 
affection for Chng being now very much increased. 

But ever after the prosecution and his friends captivity, Mr. Chng took a dismal 
view of human affairs, and one day invited Chou to retire with him from the world. 
The latter, who was deeply attached [p. 35] to his young wife, threw cold water on the 
proposition, and Mr. Chng pursued the subject no farther, though his own mind was 
fully made up. Not seeing him for some days afterwards, Mr. Chou sent to inquire 
about him at his house; but there they all thought he was at Chous, neither family, in 
fact, having seen anything of him. This looked suspicious, and Chou, aware of his 
peculiarity, sent off people to look for him, bidding them search all the temples and 
monasteries in the neighbourhood. He also from time to time supplied Chngs son 
with money and other necessaries. 

Eight or nine years had passed away, when suddenly Chng re-appeared, clad in a 
yellow cap and stole, and wearing the expression of a Taoist priest. Chou was 
delighted, and seized his arm, saying, Where have you been? letting me search for 
you all over the place. The solitary cloud and the wild crane, replied Chng, 
laughing, have no fixed place of abode. Since we last met my equanimity has happily 
been restored. Chou then ordered wine, and they chatted together on what had taken 
place in the interval. He also tried to persuade Chng to detach himself from the 
Taoist persuasion, but the latter only smiled and answered nothing. It is absurd! 
argued Chou. Why cast aside your wife and child as you would an old pair of 
shoes? Not so, answered Chng; if men wish to cast me aside, who is there who 
can do so now? 

Chou asked where he lived, to which he replied, In the Great Pure Mansion on 
Mount Lao. They then retired to sleep on the same bed; and by-and-by Chou dreamt 
that Chng was lying on his chest so that he could not breathe. In a fright he asked 
him what he was doing, but got no answer; and then he waked up with a start. Calling 
to Chng and receiving no reply, he sat up and stretched out his hand to touch him. 
The latter, however, had vanished, he knew not whither. When he got calm, he found 
he was lying at Chngs end of the bed, which rather startled him. I was not tipsy 


last night, reflected he; how could I have got over here? He next called his servants, 
and when they came and struck a light, lo! he was Chng. Now Chou had had a beard, 
so he put up his hand to feel for it, but found only a few straggling hairs. He then 
seized a mirror to look at himself, and cried out in [p. 36] alarm: If this is Mr. 
Chng, where on earth am I? By this time he was wide awake, and knew that 
Chng had employed magic to induce him to retire from the world. He was on the 
point of entering the ladies apartments; but his brother, not recognising who he was, 
stopped him, and would not let him go in; and as he himself was unable to prove his 
own identity, he ordered his horse that he might go in search of Chng. 

After some days journey he arrived at Mount Lao; and, as his horse went along at a 
good rate, the servant could not keep up with him. By-and-by he rested awhile under a 
tree, and saw a great number of Taoist priests going backwards and forwards, and 
among them was one who stared fixedly at him. So he inquired of him where he 
should find Chng; whereat the priest laughed and said, I know the name. He is 
probably in the Great Pure Mansion. When he had given this answer he went on his 
way, Chou following him with his eyes about a stones-throw, until he saw him speak 
with some one else, and, after saying a few words, proceed onwards as before. The 
person whom he had spoken with came on to where Chou was, and turned out to be a 
fellow-townsman of his. He was much surprised at meeting Chou, and said, I havent 
seen you for some years. They told me you had gone to Mount Lao to be a Taoist 
priest. How is it you are still amusing yourself among mortals? Chou told him who 
he really was; upon which the other replied, Why, I thought the gentleman I just met 
was you! He has only just left me, and cant have got very far. Is it possible, cried 
Chou, that I didnt know my own face? 

Just then the servant came up, and away they went full speed, but could not discover 
the object of their search. All around them was a vast desert, and they were at a loss 
whether to go on or to return. But Chou reflected that he had no longer any home to 
receive him, and determined to carry out his design to the bitter end; but as the road 
was dangerous for riding, he gave his horse to the servant, and bade him go back. On 
he went cautiously by himself, until he spied a boy sitting by the wayside alone. He 
hurried up to him and asked the boy to direct him where he could find Mr. Chng. I 
am one of his disciples, replied the lad; and, shouldering Chous bundle, started [p. 
39] off to show the way. They journeyed on together, taking their food by the light of 
the stars, and sleeping in the open air, until, after many miles of road, they arrived in 
three days at their destination. 

But this Great Pure locality was not like that generally spoken of in the world. Though 
as late as the middle of the tenth moon, there was a great profusion of flowers along 
the road, quite unlike the beginning of winter. The lad went in and announced the 
arrival of a stranger, whereupon Mr. Chng came out, and Chou recognised his own 
features. Chng grasped his hand and led him inside, where he prepared wine and 
food, and they began to converse together. Chou noticed many birds of strange 
plumage, so tame that they were not afraid of him; and these from time to time would 
alight on the table and sing with voices like Pan-pipes. He was very much astonished 
at all this, but a love of mundane pleasures had eaten into his soul, and he had no 
intention of stopping. On the ground were two rush-mats, upon which Chng invited 
his friend to sit down with him. Then about midnight a serene calm stole over him; 
and while he was dozing off for a moment, he seemed to change places with Chng. 


Suspecting what had happened, he put his hand up to his chin, and found it covered 
with a beard as before. 

At dawn he was anxious to return home, but Chng pressed him to stay; and when 
three days had gone by Chng said to him, I pray you take a little rest now: 
tomorrow I will set you on your way. Chou had barely closed his eyelids before he 
heard Chng call out, Everything is ready for starting! So he got up and followed 
him along a road other than that by which he had come, and in a very short time he 
saw his home in the distance. In spite of Chous entreaties, Chng would not 
accompany him so far, but made Chou go, waiting himself by the roadside. So the 
latter went alone, and when he reached his house, knocked at the door. Receiving no 
answer, he determined to get over the wall, when he found that his body was as light 
as a leaf, and with one spring he was over. In the same manner he passed several inner 
walls, until he reached the ladies apartments, where he saw by the still burning lamp 
that the inmates had not yet retired for the night. Hearing people talking within, he 
licked a hole in the [p. 38] paper window[7] and peeped through, and saw his wife 
sitting drinking with a most disreputable-looking fellow. Bursting with rage, his first 
impulse was to surprise them in the act; but seeing there were two against one, he 
stole away and let himself out by the entrance-gate, hurrying off to Chng, to whom 
he related what he had seen, and finally begged his assistance. 

Chng willingly went along with him; and when they reached the room, Chou seized 
a big stone and hammered loudly at the door. All was then confusion inside, so Chou 
hammered again, upon which the door was barricaded more strongly than before. 
Here Chng came forward with his sword,8 and burst the door open with a crash. 
Chou rushed in, and the man inside rushed out; but Chng was there, and with his 
sword cut his arm right off. Chou rudely seized his wife, and asked what it all meant; 
to which she replied that the man was a friend who sometimes came to take a cup of 
wine with them. Thereupon Chou borrowed Chngs sword and cut off her head,9 
hanging up the trunk on a tree in the courtyard. He then went back with Chng. 

By-and-by he awaked and found himself on the bed, at which he was somewhat 
disturbed, and said, I have had a strangely confused dream, which has given me a 
fright. My brother, replied Clang, smiling, you look upon dreams as realities: you 
mistake realities for dreams. Chou asked what he meant by these words; and then 
Chng showed him his sword besmeared with blood. Chou was terrified, and sought 
to destroy himself; but all at once it occurred to him that Chng might be deceiving 
him again. Chng divined his suspicions, [p. 39] and made haste at once to see him 
home. In a little while they arrived at the village gate, and then Chng said, Was it 
not here that, sword in hand, I awaited you that night? I cannot look upon the unclean 
spot. I pray you go on, and let me stay here. If you do not return by the afternoon, I 
will depart alone. Chou then approached his house, which he found all shut up as if 
no one was living there; so he went into his brothers. 

The latter, when he beheld Chou, began to weep bitterly, saying, After your 
departure, thieves broke into the house and killed my sister-in-law, hanging her body 
upon a tree. Alas! alas! The murderers have not yet been caught. Chou then told him 
the whole story of his dream, and begged him to stop further proceedings; at all of 
which his brother was perfectly lost in astonishment. Chou then asked after his son, 
and his brother told the nurse to bring him in; whereupon the former said, Upon this 


infant are centred the hopes of our race.10 Tend him well; for I am going to bid adieu 
[p. 40] to the world. 

He then took his leave, his brother following him all the time with tears in his eyes to 
induce him to remain. But he heeded him not; and when they reached the village gate 
his brother saw him go away with Chng. From afar he looked back and said, 
Forbear, and be happy! His brother would have replied; but here Chng whisked 
his sleeve, and they disappeared. The brother remained there for some time, and then 
went back overwhelmed with grief. 

He was an unpractical man, and before many years were over all the property was 
gone and the family reduced to poverty. Chous son, who was growing up, was thus 
unable to secure the services of a tutor, and had no one but his uncle to teach him. 

One morning, on going into the school-room, the uncle found a letter lying on his 
desk addressed to himself in his brothers handwriting. There was, however, nothing 
in it but a finger-nail about four inches in length. Surprised at this, he laid the nail 
down on the ink-slab while he went out to ask whence the letter had come. This no 
one knew; but when he went back he found that the ink-stone had been changed into a 
piece of shining yellow gold. More than ever astonished, he tried the nail on copper 
and iron things, all of which were likewise turned to gold. He thus became very rich, 
sharing his wealth with Chngs son; and it was bruited about that the two families 
possessed the secret of transmutation.11 

 

1 This is a characteristic touch. Only the most intimate of friends ever see each others 
wives. 

2 Where the women of the family live, and into which no stranger ever penetrates. 
Among other names by which a Chinese husband speaks of his wife, a very common 
one is the inner [wo]man. 

3 Until which he would be safe, by virtue of his degree, from the degrading penalty of 
the bamboo. 

4 This is the instrument commonly used for flogging criminals in China, and consists 
of a strip of split bamboo planed down smooth. Strictly speaking there are two kinds, 
the heavy and the light; the former is now hardly if ever used. Until the reign of Kang 
Hsi all strokes were given across the back; but that humane Emperor removed the 
locus operandi lower down, for fear of injuring the liver or the lungs. 

5 See No. VII., note 1. 

6 It is a principle of Chinese jurisprudence that no sentence can be passed until the 
prisoner has confessed his guilta principle, however, frequently set aside in practice. 

7 Wooden frames covered with a semi-transparent paper are used all over the northern 
provinces of China; in the south, oyster-shells, cut square and planed down thin, are 
inserted tile-fashion in the long narrow spaces of a wooden frame made to receive 


them, and used for the same purpose. But glass is gradually finding its way into the 
houses of the well-to-do, large quantities being made at Canton and exported to 
various parts of the empire. 

8 Every Taoist priest has a magic sword, corresponding to our magicians wand. 

9 In China, a man has the right to slay his adulterous wife, but he must slay her 
paramour also; both or neither. Otherwise, he lays himself open to a prosecution for 
murder. The act completed, he is further bound to proceed at once to the magistrate of 
the district and report what he has done. 

10 The importance of male offspring in Chinese social life is hardly to be expressed in 
words. To the son is confided the task of worshipping at the ancestral tombs, the care 
of the ancestral tablets, and the due performance of all rites and ceremonies connected 
with the departed dead. No Chinaman will die, if he can help it, without leaving a son 
behind him. If his wife is childless he will buy a concubine; and we are told on page 
41, vol. xiii., of the Liao Chai, that a good wife, who at thirty years of age has not 
borne a child should forthwith pawn her jewellery and purchase a concubine for her 
husband; for to be without a son is hard indeed! Another and a common resource is 
to adopt a nephew; and sometimes a boy is bought from starving parents, or from a 
professional kidnapper. Should a little boy die, no matter how young, his parents do 
not permit even him to be without the good offices of a son. They adopt some other 
child on his behalf; and when the latter grows up it becomes his duty to perform the 
proper ceremonies at his baby fathers tomb. Girls do not enjoy the luxury of this 
sham posterity. They are quietly buried in a hole near the family vault, and their 
disembodied spirits are left to wander about in the realms below uncared for and 
unappeased. It must not be inferred, however, from this that the position of woman in 
China is low, as such is far from being the case. Every mother shares in the ancestral 
worship, and her name is recorded on the tombstone, side by side with that of her 
husband. Hence it is that Chinese tombstones are always to the memory either of a 
father or of a mother, or of both, with occasionally the addition of the grandfather and 
grandmother, and sometimes even that of the generation preceding. 

11 The belief that a knowledge of alchemy is obtainable by leading the life of a pure 
and perfect Taoist is one of the numerous additions in later ages to this ancient form 
of religion. See No. IV., note 1. 

XI. THE FIGHTING QUAILS 

WANG CHNG belonged to an old family in Ping-yuan, but was such an idle fellow 
that his property gradually disappeared, until at length all he had left was an old 
tumble-down house. His wife and he slept under a coarse hempen coverlet, and the 
former was far from sparing her reproaches. At the time of which we are speaking the 
weather was unbearably hot; and Wang went to pass the night with many other of his 
fellow-villagers in a pavilion which stood among some dilapidated buildings 
belonging to a family named Chou. With the first streaks of dawn [p. 41] his 
comrades departed; but Wang slept well on till about nine oclock, when he got up 
and proceeded leisurely home. All at once he saw in the grass a gold hair-pin; and 
taking it up to look at it, found engraved thereon in small charactersThe property 
of the Imperial family. Now Wangs own grandfather had married into the Imperial 


family,l and consequently he had formerly possessed many similar articles; but while 
he was thinking it over up came an old woman in search of the hair-pin, which Wang, 
who though poor was honest, at once produced and handed to her. The old woman 
was delighted, and thanked Wang for his goodness, observing that the pin was not 
worth much in itself, but was a relic of her departed husband. Wang asked what her 
husband had been; to which she replied, His name was Wang Chien-chih, and he was 
connected by marriage with the Imperial family. My own grandfather! cried Wang, 
in great surprise, how could you have known him? You, then, said the old woman, 
are his grandson. I am a fox, and many years ago I was married to your grandfather; 
but when he died I retired from the world. Passing by here I lost my hair-pin, which 
destiny conveyed into your hands. 

Wang had heard of his grandfathers fox-wife, and believing therefore the old 
womans story, invited her to return with him, which she did. Wang called his wife 
out to receive her; but when she came in rags and tatters, with unkempt hair and dirty 
face, the old woman sighed, and said, Alas! alas! has Wang Chien-chihs grandson 
come to this? Then looking at the broken, smokeless stove, she added, How, under 
these circumstances, have you managed even to support life? Here Wangs wife told 
the tale of their poverty, with much sobbing and tears; whereupon the old woman 
gave her the hair-pin, bidding her go pawn it, and with the proceeds buy some food, 
saying that in three days [p. 42] she would visit them again. Wang pressed her to stay, 
but she said, You cant even keep your wife alive; what would it benefit you to have 
me also dependent on you? So she went away, and then Wang told his wife who she 
was, at which his wife felt very much alarmed; but Wang was so loud in her praises, 
that finally his wife consented to treat her with all proper respect. 

In three days she returned as agreed, and, producing some money, sent out for a 
hundredweight of rice and a hundredweight of corn. She passed the night with them, 
sleeping with Mrs. Wang, who was at first rather frightened, but who soon laid aside 
her suspicions when she found that the old lady meant so well towards them. Next day 
the latter addressed Wang, saying, My grandson, you must not be so lazy. You 
should try to make a little money in some way or another. Wang replied that he had 
no capital; upon which the old lady said, When your grandfather was alive, he 
allowed me to take what money I liked; but not being a mortal, I had no use for it, and 
consequently did not draw largely upon him. I have, however, saved from my pin-
money the sum of forty ounces of silver, which has long been lying idle for want of an 
investment. Take it, and buy summer cloth, which you may carry to the capital and re-
sell at a profit. So Wang bought some fifty pieces of summer cloth; and the old lady 
made him get ready, calculating that in six or seven days he would reach the capital. 
She also warned him, saying, 

 Be neither lazy nor slow 

For if a day too long you wait, 

Repentance comes a day too late. 

 

Wang promised all obedience, and packed up his goods and went off. On the road he 
was overtaken by a rainstorm which soaked him through to the skin; and as he was 
not accustomed to be out in bad weather, it was altogether too much for him. He 
accordingly sought shelter in an inn, but the rain went on steadily till night, running 


over the eaves of the house like so many ropes. Next morning the roads were in a 
horrible state; and Wang, watching the passers-by slipping about in the slush, unable 
to see any path, dared not face it all, and remained until noon, when it began to dry up 
a little. Just then, however, the clouds closed over again, and down came the rain in 
torrents, [p. 43] causing him to stay another night before he could go on. 

When he was nearing the capital, he heard to his great joy that summer cloth was at a 
premium; and on arrival proceeded at once to take up his quarters at an inn. There the 
landlord said it was a pity he had come so late, as communications with the south 
having been only recently opened, the supply of summer cloth had been small; and 
there being a great demand for it among the wealthy families of the metropolis, its 
price had gone up to three times the usual figure. But, he added, two days ago 
several large consignments arrived, and the price went down again, so that the late 
comers have lost their market. Poor Wang was thus left in the lurch, and as every day 
more summer cloth came in, the value of it fell in a corresponding ratio. Wang would 
not part with his at a loss, and held on for some ten days, when his expenses for board 
and lodging were added to his present distress. The landlord urged him to sell even at 
a loss, and turn his attention to something else, which he ultimately did, losing over 
ten ounces of silver on his venture. 

Next day he rose in the morning to depart, but on looking in his purse found all his 
money gone. He rushed away to tell the landlord, who, however, could do nothing for 
him. Some one then advised him to take out a summons and make the landlord 
reimburse him; but he only sighed, and said, It is my destiny, and no fault of the 
landlords. Thereupon the landlord was very grateful to him, and gave him five 
ounces of silver to enable him to go home. 

He did not care, however, to face his grandmother empty-handed, and remained in a 
very undecided state, until suddenly he saw a quail-catcher winning heaps of money 
by fighting his birds, and selling them at over 100 cash apiece. He then determined to 
lay out his five ounces of silver in quails, and pay back the landlord out of the profits. 
The latter approved very highly of this plan, and not only agreed to lend him a room, 
but also to charge him little or nothing for his board. So Wang went off rejoicing, and 
bought two large baskets of quails, with which he returned to the city, to the great 
satisfaction of the landlord, who advised him to lose no time in disposing of them. All 
that night it poured in torrents, and the next morning the streets were like rivers, the 
rain still continuing to fall. Wang waited [p. 44] for it to clear up, but several days 
passed and still there were no signs of fine weather. He then went to look at his quails, 
some of which he found dead and others dying. He was much alarmed at this, but was 
quite at a loss what to do; and by the next day a lot more had died, so that only a few 
were left, which he fed all together in one basket. The day after this he went again to 
look at them, and lo! there remained but a single quail. With tears in his eyes he told 
the landlord what had happened, and he, too, was much affected. Wang then reflected 
that he had no money left to carry him home, and that he could not do better than 
cease to live. 

But the landlord spoke to him and soothed him, and they went together to look at the 
quail. This is a fine bird, said the landlord, and it strikes me that it has simply 
killed the others. Now, as you have got nothing to do, just set to work and train it; and 
if it is good for anything, why, youll be able to make a living out of it. Wang did as 


he was told; and when the bird was trained, the landlord bade him take it into the 
street and gamble for something to eat. This, too, he did, and his quail won every 
main; whereupon the landlord gave him some money to bet with the young fellows of 
the neighbourhood. Everything turned out favourably, and by the end of six months 
he had saved twenty ounces of silver, so that he became quite easy in his mind and 
looked upon the quail as a dispensation of his destiny. 

Now one of the princes was passionately fond of quail-fighting, and always at the 
Feast of Lanterns anybody who owned quails might go and fight them in the palace 
against the Princes birds. The landlord therefore said to Wang, Here is a chance of 
enriching yourself by a single stroke; only I cant say what your luck will do for you. 
He then explained to him what it was, and away they went together, the landlord 
saying, If you lose, burst out into lamentations; but if you are lucky enough to win, 
and the Prince wishes, as he will, to buy your bird, dont consent. If he presses you 
very much, watch for a nod from me before you agree. 

This settled, they proceeded to the palace, where they found crowds of quail-fighters 
already on the ground; and then the Prince came forth, heralds proclaiming to the 
multitude that any who wished to fight their birds might come up. Some man at once 
stepped forward, and the [p. 45] Prince gave orders for the quails to be released; but at 
the first strike the strangers quail was knocked out of time. The Prince smiled, and 
by-and-by won several more mains, until at last the landlord said, Nows our time, 
and went up together with Wang. 

The Prince looked at their bird and said, It has a fierce-looking eye and strong 
feathers. We must be careful what we are doing. So he commanded his servants to 
bring out Iron Beak to oppose Wangs bird; but, after a couple of strikes, the Princes 
quail was signally defeated. He sent for a better bird, but that shared the same fate; 
and then he cried out, Bring, the Jade Bird from the palace! In a little time it arrived, 
with pure white feathers like an egret, and an unusually martial appearance. Wang 
was much alarmed, and falling on his knees prayed to be excused this main, saying, 
Your Highnesss bird is too good. I fear lest mine should be wounded, and my 
livelihood be taken from me. But the Prince laughed and said, Go on. If your quail 
is killed I will make it up to you handsomely. Wang then released his bird, and the 
Princes quail rushed at it at once; but when the Jade Bird was close by, Wangs quail 
awaited its coming head down and full of rage. The former made a violent peck at its 
adversary, and then sprang up to swoop down on it. Thus they went on up and down, 
backwards and forwards, until at length they got hold of each other, and the Princes 
bird was beginning to show signs of exhaustion. This enraged it all the more, and it 
fought more violently than ever; but soon a perfect snowstorm of feathers began to 
fall, and, with drooping wings; the Jade Bird made its escape. 

The spectators were much moved by the result; and the Prince himself, taking up 
Wangs bird, examined it closely from beak to claws, finally asking if it was for sale. 
My sole dependence, replied Wang, is upon this bird. I would rather not part with 
it. But, said the Prince, if I give you as much as the capital, say, of an ordinary 
tradesman, will not that tempt you? Wang thought some time, and then answered, I 
would rather not sell my bird; but as your Highness has taken a fancy to it I will only 
ask enough to find me in food and clothes. How much do you want? inquired the 
Prince; to which Wang replied that he would take a thousand ounces of silver. You 


fool! cried the [p. 46] Prince; do you think your bird is such a jewel as all that? If 
your Highness, said Wang, does not think the bird a jewel, I value it more than that 
stone which was priced at fifteen cities. How so? asked the Prince. Why, said 
Wang, I take my bird every day into the market-place. It there wins for me several 
ounces of silver, which I exchange for rice; my family, over ten in number, has 
nothing to fear from either cold or hunger. What jewel could do that? You shall not 
lose anything, replied the Prince; I will give you two hundred ounces. But Wang 
would not consent, and then the Prince added another hundred; whereupon Wang 
looked at the landlord, who, however, made no sign. Wang then offered to take nine 
hundred; but the Prince ridiculed the idea of paying such a price for a quail, and Wang 
was preparing to take his leave with the bird, when the Prince called him back, saying, 
Here! here! I will give you six hundred. Take it or leave it as you please. Wang here 
looked at the landlord, and the landlord remained motionless as before. However, 
Wang was satisfied himself with this offer, and being afraid of missing his chance, 
said to his friend, If I get this price for it I shall be quite content. If we go on 
haggling and finally come to no terms, that will be a very poor end to it all. 

So he took the Princes offer, and the latter, overjoyed, caused the money to be 
handed to him. Wang then returned with his earnings, but the landlord said to him, 
What did I say to you? You were in too much of a hurry to sell. Another minute, and 
you would have got eight hundred. When Wang got back he threw the money on the 
table and told the land-lord to take what he liked; but the latter would not, and it was 
only after some pressing that he would accept payment for Wangs board. 

Wang then packed up and went home, where he told his story and produced his silver, 
to the great delight of all of them. The old lady counselled the purchase of a quantity 
of land, the building of a house, and the purchase of implements; and in a very short 
time they became a wealthy family. The old lady always got up early in the morning 
and made Wang attend to the farm, his wife to her spinning; and rated them soundly 
at any signs of laziness. The husband and wife henceforth lived in peace, and no 
longer abused each other, until at [p. 47] the expiration of three years the old lady 
declared her intention of bidding them adieu. They both tried to stop her, and with the 
aid of tears succeeded in persuading her; but the next day she had disappeared.2 

 

1 The direct issue of the Emperors of the present dynasty and their descendants in the 
male line for ever are entitled to wear a yellow girdle in token of their relationship to 
the Imperial family, each generation becoming a degree lower in rank, but always 
retaining this distinctive badge. Members of the collateral branches wear a red girdle, 
and are commonly known as gioros. With the lapse of two hundred and fifty years, 
the wearers of these badges have become numerous, and in many cases disreputable; 
and they are now to be found even among the lowest dregs of Chinese social life. 

2 Quail fighting is not so common now in China as it appears to have been formerly. 
Cricket-fighting is, however, a very favourite form of gambling, large quantities of 
these insects being caught every year for this purpose, and considerable sums 
frequently staked on the result of a contest between two champions. 


XII. THE PAINTED SKIN 

AT Tai-yuan there lived a man named Wang. One morning he was out walking when 
he met a young lady carrying a bundle and hurrying along by herself. As she moved 
along with some difficulty,l Wang quickened his pace and caught her up, and found 
she was a pretty girl of about sixteen. Much smitten, he inquired whither she was 
going so early, and no one with her. A traveller like you, replied the girl, cannot 
alleviate my distress; why trouble yourself to ask? What distress is it? said Wang; 
Im sure Ill do anything I can for you. My parents, answered she, loved money, 
and they sold me as a[A1] concubine into a rich family, where the wife was very 
jealous, and beat and abused me morning and night. It was more than I could stand, so 
I have run away. Wang asked her where she was going; to which she replied that a 
runaway had no fixed place of abode. My house, said Wang, is at no great distance; 
what do you say to coming there? 

She joyfully acquiesced; and Wang, taking up her bundle, led the way to his house. 
Finding no one there, she asked Wang where his family were; to which he [p. 48] 
replied that that was only the library. And a very nice place, too, said she; but if 
you are kind enough to wish to save my life, you mustnt let it be known that I am 
here. Wang promised he would not divulge her secret,[A2] and so she remained 
there for some days without anyone knowing anything about it. He then told his wife, 
and she, fearing the girl might belong to some influential family, advised him to send 
her away. 

This, however, he would not consent to do; when one day, going into the town, he met 
a Taoist priest, who looked at him in astonishment, and asked him what he had met. I 
have met nothing, replied Wang. Why, said the priest, you are bewitched; what 
do you mean by not having met anything? But Wang insisted that it was so, and the 
priest walked away, saying, The fool! Some people dont seem to know when death 
is at hand. This startled Wang, who at first thought of the girl; but then he reflected 
that a pretty young thing as she was couldnt well be a witch, and began to suspect 
that the priest merely wanted to do a stroke of business. 

When he returned, the library door was shut, and he couldnt get in, which made him 
suspect that something was wrong; and so he climbed over the wall, where he found 
the door of the inner room shut too. Softly creeping up, he looked through the window 
and saw a hideous devil, with a green face and jagged teeth like a saw, spreading a 
human skin upon the bed and painting it with a paint brush. The devil then threw 
aside the brush, and giving the skin a shake out, just as you would a coat, threw it 
over its shoulders, when lo! it was the girl. 

Terrified at this, Wang hurried away with his head down in search of the priest, who 
had gone he knew not whither; subsequently finding him in the fields, where he threw 
himself on his knees and begged the priest to save him. As to driving her away, said 
the priest, the creature must be in great distress to be seeking a substitute for 
herself;2 besides, I could hardly endure to [p. 49] injure a living thing.3 However, he 
gave Wang a fly-brush, and bade him hang it at the door of the bedroom, agreeing to 
meet again at the Ching-ti temple. 


Wang went home, but did not dare enter the library; so he hung up the brush at the 
bedroom door, and before long heard a sound of footsteps outside. Not daring to move, 
he made his wife peep out; and she saw the girl standing looking at the brush, afraid 
to pass it. She then ground her teeth and went away; but in a little while came back, 
and began cursing, saying, You priest, you wont frighten me. Do you think I am 
going to give up what is already in my grasp? Thereupon she tore the brush to pieces, 
and bursting open the door, walked straight up to the bed, where she ripped open 
Wang and tore out his heart, with which she went away. Wangs wife screamed out, 
and the servant came in with a light; but Wang was already dead and presented a most 
miserable spectacle.[B] 

His wife, who was in an agony of fright, hardly dared cry for fear of making a noise; 
and next day she sent Wangs brother to see the priest. The latter got into a great rage, 
and cried out, Was it for this that I had compassion on you, devil that you are? 
proceeding at once with Wangs brother to the house, from which the girl had 
disappeared without anyone knowing whither she had gone. But the priest, raising his 
head, looked all round, and said, Luckily shes not far off. He then asked who lived 
in the apartments on the south side, to which Wangs brother replied that he did; 
whereupon the priest declared that there she would be found. Wangs brother was 
horribly frightened and, said he did not think so; and then the priest asked him if any 
stranger had been to the house. To this he answered that he had been out to the 
Ching-ti temple and couldnt possibly say: but he went off to inquire, and in a little 
while came back and reported that an old woman had [p. 50] sought service with them 
as a maid-of-all-work, and had been engaged by his wife. That is she, said the priest, 
as Wangs brother added she was still there; and they all set out to go to the house 
together. 

Then the priest took his wooden sword, and standing in the middle of the courtyard, 
shouted out, Base-born fiend, give me back my fly-brush! Meanwhile the new 
maid-of-all-work was in a great state of alarm, and tried to get away by the door; but 
the priest struck her and down she fell flat, the human skin dropped off, and she 
became a hideous devil. There she lay grunting like a pig, until the priest grasped his 
wooden sword and struck off her head.[C] She then became a dense column of smoke 
curling up from the ground, when the priest took an uncorked gourd and threw it right 
into the midst of the smoke. A sucking noise was heard, and the whole column was 
drawn into the gourd; after which the priest corked it up closely and put it in his 
pouch.4 

The skin, too, which was complete even to the eye-brows, eyes, hands, and feet, he 
also rolled up as if it had been a scroll, and was on the point of leaving with it, when 
Wangs wife stopped him, and with tears entreated him to bring her husband to life. 
The priest said he was unable to do that; but Wangs wife flung herself at his feet, and 
with loud lamentations implored his assistance. For some time he remained immersed 
in thought, and then replied, My power is not equal to what you ask. I myself cannot 
raise the dead; but I will direct you to some one who can, and if you apply to him 
properly you will succeed. Wangs wife asked the priest who it was; to which he 
replied, There is a maniac in the town who passes his time grovelling in the dirt. Go, 
prostrate yourself before him, and beg him to help you. If he insults you, show no sign 
of anger. Wangs brother knew the man to whom he alluded, and accordingly bade 
the priest adieu, and proceeded thither with his sister-in-law. 


They found the destitute creature raving away by the roadside,[D] so filthy that it was 
all they could do to go near him. Wangs wife approached him on her knees; at which 
the maniac leered at her, and cried out, Do you love me, my beauty? Wangs wife 
told him what she had come [p. 51] for, but he only laughed and said, You can get 
plenty of other husbands. Why raise the dead one to life? But Wangs wife entreated 
him to help her; whereupon he observed, Its very strange: people apply to me to 
raise their dead as if I was king of the infernal regions. He then gave Wangs wife a 
thrashing, with his staff, which she bore without a murmur, and before a gradually 
increasing crowd of spectators. After this he produced a loathsome pill which he told 
her she must swallow,[E] but here she broke down and was quite unable to do so. 
However, she did manage it at last,[F] and then the maniac, crying out, How you do 
love me! got up and went away without taking any more notice of her. They 
followed him into a temple with loud supplications, but he had disappeared, and every 
effort to find him was unsuccessful. 

Overcome with rage and shame, Wangs wife went home, where she mourned bitterly 
over her dead husband, grievously repenting the steps she had taken, and wishing only 
to die. She then bethought herself of preparing the corpse, near which none of the 
servants would venture, and set to work to close up the frightful wound of which he 
died. 

While thus employed, interrupted from time to time by her sobs, she felt a rising lump 
in her throat, which by-and-by came out with a pop and fell straight into the dead 
mans wound. Looking closely at it, she saw it was a human heart; and then it began 
as it were to throb, emitting a warm vapour like smoke. Much excited, she at once 
closed the flesh over it, and held the sides of the wound together with all her might. 
Very soon, however, she got tired, and finding the vapour escaping from the crevices, 
she tore up a piece of silk and bound it round, at the same time bringing back 
circulation by rubbing the body and covering it up with clothes. In the night she 
removed the coverings, and found that breath was coming from the nose; and by next 
morning her husband was alive again, though disturbed in mind as if awaking from a 
dream, and feeling a pain in his heart. Where he had been wounded there was a 
cicatrix about as big as a cash, which soon after disappeared.[G] 

 

1 Impeded, of course, by her bound feet. This practice is said to have originated about 
A.D. 970, with Yao Niang, the concubine of the pretender Li Y, who wished to make 
her feet like the new moon. The Manchu or Tartar ladies never adopted this custom, 
and therefore the Empresses of modern times have had feet of the natural size; neither 
is it in force among the Hakkas or among the hill-tribes of China and Formosa and 
others. The practice was forbidden in 1664 by the Manchu Emperor, Kang Hsi; but 
popular feeling was so strong on the subject that four years afterwards the prohibition 
was withdrawn. A vigorous attempt is now being made to secure natural feet for the 
Chinese girl, with more chance of success. 

2 The disembodied spirits of the Chinese Inferno are permitted, under certain 
conditions of time and good conduct, to appropriate to themselves the vitality of some 
human being, who, as it were, exchanges places with the so-called devil. The devil 
does not, however, reappear as the mortal whose life it has become possessed of, but 


is merely born again into the world; the idea being that the amount of life on earth is a 
constant quantity, and cannot be increased or diminished, reminding one in a way of 
the great modern doctrine of the conservation of energy. This curious belief has an 
important bearing that will be brought out in a subsequent story. 

3 Here again is a Taoist priest quoting the Buddhist commandment, Thou shalt not 
take life. The Buddhist laity in China, who do not hesitate to take life for the 
purposes of food, salve their consciences from time to time by buying birds, fishes, 
&c. and letting them go, in the hope that such acts will be set down on the credit side 
of their record of good and evil. 

4 This recalls the celebrated story of the fisherman in the Arabian Nights. 

[A1] I have added the a, which Giles does not have. 

[A2] Denis and Victor Mair translate: Having agreed to this, the scholar took her to 
bed with him. 

[B] Pu is actually more explicit, according to the Mairs: Blood from his chest cavity 
was splattered everywhere. 

[C] Mairs: and held it up in the air. 

[D] Mairs: snot dangled in a long string from his nose. 

[E] Mairs: The beggar hacked up phlegm until it filled his cupped hand, then held it 
up to Chens face, saying: Eat it. 

[F] Mairs: As it entered her throat, it felt hard like compacted fuzz. It slid slowly 
down into her chest and clotted firm. 

[G] Pu included a moral, as he sometimes did, which Giles omitted. Minford 
translates: The Chronicler of the Strange remarks: How foolish men are, to see 
nothing but beauty in what is clearly evil! And how benighted to dismiss as absurd 
what is clearly well-intended! It is folly such as this that obliges the lady Chen to steel 
herself to eat another mans phlegm, when her husband has fallen prey to lust. 
Heavens Way has its inexorable justice, but some mortals remain foolish and never 
see the light! 

This story, though wildly fantastic, shows how deeply moral popular narrative can be. 
(And, as Minford observes in his notes, Painted Skin is a scathing commentary on 
the moral weakness of some Chinese men, and their dependence on strong women in 
their families to bail them out of disasters theyve fallen into.) 

Incidently, by omitting the detail that the husband and the woman-demon made love, 
Giles removes a central point of the story. Paradoxically, through his Victorian 
reticence, he makes the story less moralistic. The woman eating phlegm is another 
striking, if revolting, action that had moralistic resonance. 

[p. 52] 


XIII. THE TRADERS SON 

IN the province of Hunan there dwelt a man who was engaged in trading abroad; and 
his wife, who lived alone, dreamt one night that some one was in her room. Waking 
up, she looked about, and discovered a small creature which on examination she knew 
to be a fox; but in a moment the thing had disappeared, although the door had not 
been opened. 

The next evening she asked the cook-maid to come and keep her company; as also her 
own son, a boy of ten, who was accustomed to sleep elsewhere. Towards the middle 
of the night, when the cook and the boy were fast asleep, back came the fox; and the 
cook was waked up by hearing her mistress muttering something as if she had 
nightmare. The former then called out, and the fox ran away; but from that moment 
the traders wife was not quite herself. When night came she dared not blow out the 
candle, and bade her son be sure and not sleep too soundly. 

Later on, her son and the old woman having taken a nap as they leant against the wall, 
suddenly waked up and found her gone. They waited some time, but she did not 
return, and the cook was too frightened to go and look after her; so her son took a 
light, and at length found her fast asleep in another room. She didnt seem aware that 
anything particular had happened, but she became queerer and queerer every day, and 
wouldnt have either her son or the cook to keep her company any more. Her son, 
however, made a point of running at once into his mothers room if he heard any 
unusual sounds; and though his mother always abused him for his pains, he paid no 
attention to what she said. Consequently, everyone thought him very brave, though at 
the same time he was always indulging in childish tricks. 

One day he played at being a mason, and piled up stones upon the window-sill, in 
spite of all that was said to him; and if anyone took away a stone, he threw himself on 
the ground, and cried like a child, so that nobody dared go near him. In a few days he 
had got both windows blocked up and the light excluded and then he set to filling up 
the chinks with mud. He worked hard all day without minding the trouble, and when 
it was finished he took and sharpened the kitchen chopper. [p. 53] Everyone who saw 
him was disgusted with such antics, and would take no notice of him. 

At night he darkened his lamp, and, with the knife concealed on his person, sat 
waiting for his mother to mutter. As soon as she began he uncovered his light, and, 
blocking up the doorway, shouted out at the top of his voice. Nothing, however, 
happened, and he moved from the door a little way, when suddenly out rushed 
something like a fox, which was disappearing through the door when he made a quick 
movement and cut off about two inches of its tail, from which the warm blood was 
still dripping as he brought the light to bear upon it. His mother hereupon cursed and 
reviled him, but he pretended not to hear her, regretting only as he went to bed that he 
hadnt hit the brute fair. But he consoled himself by thinking that although he hadnt 
killed it outright, he had done enough to prevent it coming again. 

On the morrow he followed the tracks of blood over the wall and into the garden of a 
family named Ho; and that night, to his great joy, the fox did not reappear. His mother 
was meanwhile prostrate, with hardly any life in her, and in the midst of it all his 
father came home. The boy told him what had happened, at which he was much 


alarmed, and sent for a doctor to attend his wife; but she only threw the medicine 
away, and cursed and swore horribly. So they secretly mixed the medicine with her 
tea and soup, and in a few days she began to get better, to the inexpressible delight of 
both her husband and son. 

One night, however, her husband woke up and found her gone; and after searching for 
her with the aid of his son, they discovered her sleeping in another room. From that 
time she became more eccentric than ever, and was always being found in strange 
places, cursing those who tried to remove her. Her husband was at his wits end. It 
was of no use keeping the door locked, for it opened of itself at her approach; and he 
had called in any number of magicians to exorcise the fox, but without obtaining the 
slightest result. 

One evening her son concealed himself in the Ho family garden, and lay down in the 
long grass with a view to detecting the foxs retreat. As the moon rose he heard the 
sound of voices, and, pushing aside the grass, saw two people drinking, with a long-
bearded servant pouring out their wine, dressed in an old dark-brown coat. [p. 54] 
They were whispering together, and he could not make out what they said; but by-
and-by he heard one of them remark, Get some white wine for tomorrow, and then 
they went away, leaving the long-bearded servant alone. The latter then threw off his 
coat, and lay down to sleep on the stones; whereupon the traders son eyed him 
carefully, and saw that he was like a man in every respect except that he had a tail. 
The boy would then have gone home; but he was afraid the fox might hear him, and 
accordingly remained where he was till near dawn, when he saw the other two come 
back, one at a time, and then they all disappeared among the bushes. 

On reaching home his father asked him where he had been, and he replied that he had 
stopped the night with the Ho family. He then accompanied his father to the town, 
where he saw hanging up at a hat-shop a foxs tail, and finally, after much coaxing, 
succeeded in making his father buy it for him. While the latter was engaged in a shop, 
his son, who was playing about beside him, availed himself of a moment when his 
father was not looking and stole some money from him, and went off and bought a 
quantity of white wine, which he left in charge of the wine-merchant. Now an uncle 
of his, who was a sportsman by trade, lived in the city, and thither he next betook 
himself. His uncle was out, but his aunt was there, and inquired after the health of his 
mother. She has been better the last few days, replied he; but she is now very much 
upset by a rat having gnawed a dress of hers, and has sent me to ask for some poison. 
His aunt opened the cupboard and gave him about the tenth of an ounce in a piece of 
paper, which he thought was very little; so, when his aunt had gone to get him 
something to eat, he took the opportunity of being alone, opened the packet, and 
abstracted a large handful. Hiding this in his coat, he ran to tell his aunt that she 
neednt prepare anything for him, as his father was waiting in the market, and he 
couldnt stop to eat it. He then went off; and having quietly dropped the poison into 
the wine he had bought, went sauntering about the town. 

At nightfall he returned home, and told his father that he had been at his uncles. This 
he continued to do for some time, until one day he saw among the crowd his long 
bearded friend. Marking him closely, he followed him, [p. 55] and at length entered 
into conversation, asking him where he lived. I live at Pei-tsun, said he; where do 
you live? I, replied the traders son, falsely, live in a hole on the hillside. The 


long-bearded man was considerably startled at his answer, but much more so when he 
added, Weve lived there for generations: havent you? The other man asked his 
name, to which the boy replied, My name is Hu.1 I saw you with two gentlemen in 
the Ho family garden, and havent forgotten you. Questioning him more fully, the 
long-bearded man was still in a half-and-half state of belief and doubt, when the 
traders son opened his coat a little bit, and showed him the end of the tail he had 
bought, saying, The like of us can mix with ordinary people, but unfortunately we 
can never get rid of this. The long-bearded man then asked him what he was doing 
there, to which he answered that his father had sent him to buy wine; thereupon the 
former remarked that that was exactly what he had come for, and, the boy then 
inquired if he had bought it yet or not. We are poor, replied the stranger, and as a 
rule I prefer to steal it. A difficult and dangerous job, observed the boy. I have my 
masters instructions to get some, said the other, and what am I to do? The boy 
then asked him who his masters were, to which he replied that they were the two 
brothers the boy had seen that night. One of them has bewitched a lady named Wang; 
and the other, the wife of a trader who lives near. The son of the last-mentioned lady 
is a violent fellow, and cut off my masters tail, so that he was laid up for ten days. 
But he is putting her under spells again now. He was then going away, saying he 
should never get his wine; but the boy said to him, Its much easier to buy than steal. 
I have some at the wine-shop there which I will give to you. My purse isnt empty, 
and I can buy some more. The long-bearded man hardly knew how to thank him; but 
the boy said, Were all one family. Dont mention such a trifle. When I have time Ill 
come and take a drink with you. So they went off together to the wine-shop, where 
the boy gave him the wine, and they then separated. 

That night his mother [p. 56] slept quietly and had no fits, and the boy knew that 
something must have happened. He then told his father, and they went to see if there 
were any results; when lo! they found both foxes stretched out dead in the arbour. One 
of the foxes was lying on the grass, and out of its mouth blood was still trickling. The 
wine-bottle was there; and on shaking it they heard that some was left. Then his father 
asked him why he had kept it all so secret; to which the boy replied that foxes were 
very sagacious, and would have been sure to scent the plot. Thereupon his father was 
mightily pleased, and said he was a perfect Ulysses[2] for cunning. They then carried 
the foxes home, and saw on the tail of one of them the scar of a knife-wound. 

From that time they were left in peace; but the traders wife became very thin, and 
though her reason returned, she shortly afterwards died of consumption. The other 
lady, Mrs. Wang, began to get better as soon as the foxes had been killed; and as to 
the boy, he was taught riding and archery[3] by his proud parent, and subsequently 
rose to high rank in the army. 

 

1 Hu is the sound of the character for fox; it is also the sound of quite a different 
character, which is used as a surname. 

2 The name of the Chinese type was Chn Ping. 

3 Skill in archery was until quite lately de rigueur for all Manchus, and for those who 
would rise in the Chinese army. 


XIV. JUDGE LU 

AT Ling-yang there lived a man named Chu Erh-tan, whose literary designation[1] 
was Hsiao-ming. He was a fine manly [p. 57] fellow, but an egregious dunce, though 
he tried hard to learn. One day he was taking wine with a number of fellow-students, 
when one of them said to him, by way of a joke, People credit you with plenty of 
pluck. Now, if you will go in the middle of the night to the Chamber of Horrors,2 and 
bring back the Infernal Judge from the left-hand porch, well stand you a dinner. For 
at Ling-yang there was a representation of the Ten Courts of Purgatory, with the gods 
and devils carved in wood, and almost lifelike in appearance; and in the eastern 
vestibule there was a full-length image of the judge with a green face, and a red beard, 
and a hideous expression in his features. Sometimes sounds of examination under the 
whip were heard to issue during the night from both porches, and persons who went in 
found their hair standing on end from fear; so the other young men thought it would 
be a capital test for Mr. Chu. Thereupon Chu smiled, and rising from his seat went 
straight off to the temple; and before many minutes had elapsed they heard him 
shouting outside, His Excellency has arrived! 

At this they all got up, and in came Chu with the image on his back, which he 
proceeded to deposit on the table, and then poured out a triple libation in its honour. 
His comrades, who were watching what he did, felt ill at ease, and did not like to 
resume their seats; so they begged him to carry the Judge back again. But he first 
poured some wine upon the ground, invoking the image as follows: I am only a 
foolhardy, illiterate fellow: I pray your Excellency excuse me. My house is close by, 
and whenever your Excellency feels so disposed I shall be glad to take a cup of wine 
with you in a friendly [p. 58] way. He then carried the judge back, and the next day 
his friends gave him the promised dinner, from which he went home half-tipsy in the 
evening. 

But not feeling that he had had enough, he brightened up his lamp, and helped himself 
to another cup of wine, when suddenly the bamboo curtain was drawn aside, and in 
walked the judge. Mr. Chu got up and said, Oh, dear Your Excellency has come to 
cut off my head for my rudeness the other night. The judge parted his thick beard, 
and smiling, replied, Nothing of the kind. You kindly invited me last night to visit 
you; and as I have leisure this evening, here I am. Chu was delighted at this, and 
made his guest sit down, while he himself wiped the cups and lighted a fire.3 Its 
warm weather, said the judge; lets drink the wine cold. Chu obeyed, and putting 
the bottle on the table, went out to tell his servants to get some supper. His wife was 
much alarmed when she heard who was there, and begged him not to go back; but he 
only waited until the things were ready, and then returned with them. They drank out 
of each others cups,4 and by-and-by Chu asked the name of his guest. My name is 
Lu, replied the judge; I have no other names. They then conversed on literary 
subjects, one capping the others quotation as echo responds to sound. The judge then 
asked Chu if he understood composition; to which he answered that he could just tell 
good from bad; whereupon the former repeated a little infernal poetry which was not 
very different from that of mortals. He was a deep drinker, and took off ten goblets at 
a draught; but Chu, who had been at it all day, soon got dead drunk and fell fast asleep 
with his head on the table. 


When he waked up the candle had burnt out and day was beginning to break, his guest 
having already departed; and from this time the judge was in the habit of dropping in 
pretty often, until a close friendship sprang up between them. Sometimes the latter 
would pass the night at the house, and Chu would show him his essays, all of which 
the Judge scored and underlined as being good for nothing. 

One night Chu got tipsy and went to bed first, leaving the Judge drinking by himself. 
In his drunken sleep he seemed to feel a pain in his stomach, and [p. 59] waking up he 
saw that the judge, who was standing by the side of the bed, had opened him and was 
carefully arranging his inside. What harm have I done you, cried Chu, that you 
should thus seek to destroy me? Dont be afraid, replied the Judge, laughing; I am 
only providing you with a more intelligent heart.5 He then quietly put back Chus 
viscera, and closed up the opening, securing it with a bandage tied tightly round his 
waist. There was no blood on the bed, and all Chu felt was a slight numbness in his 
inside. Here he observed the Judge place a piece of flesh upon the table, and asked 
him what it was. Your heart, said the latter, which wasnt at all good at 
composition, the proper orifice being stuffed up.6 I have now provided you with a 
better one, which I procured from Hades, and I am keeping yours to put in its place.7 
He then opened the door and took his leave. 

In the morning Chu undid the bandage, and looked at his waist, the wound on which 
had quite healed up, leaving only a red seam. From that moment he became an apt 
scholar, and found his memory much improved; so much so, that a few days 
afterwards he showed an essay to the Judge for which he was very much commended. 
However, said the latter, your success will be limited to the masters degree. You 
wont get beyond that. When shall I take it? asked Chu. This year, replied the 
Judge. 

And so it turned out. Chu passed first on the list for the bachelors degree, and then 
among the first five for the masters degree. His old comrades, who had been 
accustomed to make a laughing-stock of him, were now astonished to find him a full-
blown M.A., and when they learned how it had come about, they begged Chu to speak 
to the judge on their behalf. The judge promised to assist them, and they made all 
ready to receive him; but when in the evening he did come, they were so frightened at 
his red beard and flashing eyes that their teeth chattered in their heads, and one by one 
they stole away. 

Chu then took the judge home with him to have [p. 60] a cup together, and when the 
wine had mounted well into his head, he said, I am deeply, grateful to your 
Excellencys former kindness in arranging my inside; but there is still another favour I 
venture to ask which possibly may be granted. The Judge asked him what it was; and 
Chu replied, If you can change a persons inside, you surely could also change his 
face. Now my wife is not at all a bad figure, but she is very ugly. I pray your 
Excellency try the knife upon her. The judge laughed, and said he would do so, only 
it would be necessary to give him a little time. 

Some days subsequently, the judge knocked at Chus door towards the middle of the 
night; whereupon the latter jumped up and invited him in. Lighting a candle, it was 
evident that the Judge had something under his coat, and in answer to Chus inquiries, 
he said, Its what you asked me for. I have had great trouble in procuring it. He then 


produced the head of a nice-looking young girl, and presented it to Chu, who found 
the blood on the neck was still warm. We must make haste, said the judge, and 
take care not to wake the fowls or dogs.8 Chu was afraid his wifes door might be 
bolted, but the judge laid his hand on it and it opened at once. Chu then led him to the 
bed where his wife was lying asleep on her side; and the judge, giving Chu the head to 
hold, drew from his boot a steel blade shaped like the handle of a spoon. He laid this 
across the ladys neck, which he cut through as if it had been a melon, and the head 
fell over the back of the pillow. Seizing the head he had brought with him, he now 
fitted it on carefully and accurately, and pressing it down to make it stick, bolstered 
the lady up with pillows placed on either side. When all was finished, he bade Chu put 
his wifes old head away, and then took his leave. 

Soon after Mrs. Chu waked up, and perceived a curious sensation about her neck, and 
a scaly feeling about the jaws. Putting her hand to her face, she found flakes of dry 
blood and much frightened called a maid-servant to bring water to wash it off. The 
maid-servant was also greatly alarmed at the appearance of her face, and proceeded to 
wash off [p. 61] the blood, which coloured a whole basin of water; but when she saw 
her mistresss new face she was almost frightened to death. Mrs. Chu took a mirror to 
look at herself, and was staring at herself in utter astonishment, when her husband 
came in and explained what had taken place. On examining her more closely, Chu 
saw she had a well-featured pleasant face, of a high order of beauty; and when he 
came to look at her neck, he found a red seam all round, with the parts above and 
below of a different coloured flesh. 

Now the daughter of an official named Wu was a very nice-looking girl, who, though 
nineteen years of age, had not yet been married, two gentlemen who were engaged to 
her having died before the day.9 At the Feast of Lanterns,10 this young lady happened 
to visit the Chamber of Horrors, whence she was followed home by a burglar, who 
that night broke into the house and killed her. Hearing a noise, her mother told the 
servant to go and see what was the matter; and the murder being thus discovered, 
every member of the family got up. They placed the body in the hall, with the head 
alongside, and gave themselves up to weeping and wailing the live-long night. 

Next morning, when they removed the coverings, the corpse was there, but the head 
had disappeared. The waiting-maids were accordingly flogged for neglect of duty, and 
consequent loss of the head, and Mr. Wu brought the matter to the notice of the 
Prefect. This officer took very energetic measures, but for three months no clue could 
be obtained; and then the story of the changed head in the Chu family gradually 
reached Mr. Wus ears. Suspecting something, he sent an old woman to make 
inquiries; and she at once recognised [p. 62] her late young mistresss features, and 
went back and reported to her master. Thereupon Mr. Wu, unable to make out why 
the body should have been left, imagined that Chu had slain his daughter by magical 
arts, and at once proceeded to the house to find out the truth of the matter; but Chu 
told him that his wifes head had been changed in her sleep, and that he knew nothing 
about it, adding that it was unjust to accuse him of the murder. Mr. Wu refused to 
believe this, and took proceedings against him; but as all the servants told the same 
story, the Prefect was unable to convict him. 

Chu returned home and took counsel with the Judge, who told him there would be no 
difficulty, it being merely necessary to make the murdered girl herself speak. That 


night Mr. Wu dreamt that his daughter came and said to him, I was killed by Yang 
Ta-nien, of Su-chi. Mr. Chu had nothing to do with it; but desiring a better-looking 
face for his wife, Judge Lu gave him mine, and thus my body is dead while my head 
still lives. Bear Chu no malice. When he awaked, he told his wife, who had dreamt 
the same dream; and thereupon he communicated these facts to the officials. 

Subsequently, a man of that name was captured, who confessed under the bamboo 
that he had committed the crime; so Mr. Wu went off to Chus house, and asked to be 
allowed to see his wife, regarding Chu from that time as his son-in-law. Mrs. Chus 
old head was fitted on to the young ladys body, and the two parts were buried 
together. 

Subsequent to these events Mr. Chu tried three times for his doctors degree, but each 
time without success, and at last he gave up the idea of entering into official life. Then 
when thirty years had passed away, judge Lu appeared to him one night, and said, 
My friend, you cannot live for ever. Your hour will come in five days time. Chu 
asked the judge if he could not save him; to which he replied, The decrees of Heaven 
cannot be altered to suit the purposes of mortals. Besides, to an intelligent man life 
and death are much the same.11 Why necessarily regard life as a boon and death as a 
misfortune? Chu [p. 63] could make no reply to this, and forthwith proceeded to 
order his coffin and shroud; and then, dressing himself in his grave-clothes,12 yielded 
up the ghost. Next day, as his wife was weeping over his bier, in he walked at the 
front door, to her very great alarm. I am now a disembodied spirit, said Chu to her, 
though not different from what I was in life; and I have been thinking much of the 
widow and orphan I left behind. His wife, hearing this, wept till the tears ran down 
her face, Chu all the time doing his best to comfort her. I have heard tell, said she, 
of dead bodies returning to life; and since your vital spark is not extinct, why does it 
not resume the flesh? The ordinances of Heaven, replied her husband, may not be 
disobeyed. His wife here asked him what he was doing in the infernal regions; and 
he said that judge Lu had got him an appointment as Registrar, with a certain rank 
attached, and that he was not at all uncomfortable. Mrs. Chu was proceeding to 
inquire further, when he interrupted her, saying, The judge has come with me; get 
some wine ready and something to eat. He then hurried out, and his wife did as he 
had told her, hearing them laughing and drinking in the guest chamber just like old 
times come back again. About midnight she peeped in, and found that they had both 
disappeared; but they came back once in every two or three days, often spending the 
night, and managing the family affairs as usual. Chus son was named Wei, and was 
about five years old; and whenever his father came he would take the little boy upon 
his knee. When he was about eight years of age, Chu began to teach him to read; and 
the boy was so clever that by the time [p. 64] he was nine he could actually compose. 
At fifteen he took his bachelors degree, without knowing all this time that he had no 
father. From that date Chus visits became less frequent, occurring not more than once 
or so in a month; until one night he told his wife that they were never to meet again. 
In reply to her inquiry as to whither he was going, he said he had been appointed to a 
far-off post, where press of business and distance would combine to prevent him from 
visiting them any more. The mother and son clung to him, sobbing bitterly, but he 
said, Do not act thus. The boy is now a man, and can look after your affairs. The 
dearest friends must part some day. Then, turning to his son, he added, Be an 
honourable man, and take care of the property. Ten years hence we shall meet again. 
With this he bade them farewell, and went away. 


Later on, when Wei was twenty-five years of age, he took his doctors degree, and 
was appointed to conduct the sacrifices at the Imperial tombs. On his way thither he 
fell in with a retinue of an official, proceeding along with all the proper insignia,13 
and, looking carefully at the individual sitting in the carriage, he was astonished to 
find that it was his own father. Alighting from his horse, he prostrated himself with 
tears at the side of the road; whereupon his father stopped and said, You are well 
spoken .of. I now take leave of this world. Wei remained on the ground, not daring to 
rise; and his father, urging on his carriage, hurried away without saying any more. But 
when he had gone a short distance, he looked back, and unloosing a sword from his 
waist, sent it as a present to his son, shouting out to him, Wear this and you will 
succeed. Wei tried to follow him; but, in an instant, carriage, retinue, and horses had 
vanished with the speed of wind. For a long time his son gave himself up to grief, and 
then seizing the sword began to examine it closely. It was of exquisite workmanship, 
and on the blade was engraved this legend: Be bold, but cautious; round in 
disposition, square in action.14 Wei subsequently rose to high honours, and had five 
sons named Chen, Chien, Wu, Hun, and Shen. One night he dreamt that his father told 
him to give the sword to Hun, which he accordingly did; and Hun rose to be a Viceroy 
of great administrative ability. [p. 65] 

 

1 Every Chinese man and woman inherits a family name or surname. A woman takes 
her husbands surname, followed in official documents by her maiden name. Children 
usually have a pet name given to them soon after birth, which is dropped after a few 
years. Then there is the ming or name, which once given is unchangeable, and by 
which the various members of a family are distinguished. But only the Emperor, a 
mans father and mother, and certain other relatives are allowed to use this. Friends 
call each other by their literary designations or book-names, which are given 
generally by the teacher to whom the boys education is first entrusted. Brothers and 
sisters and others have all kinds of nicknames, as with us. Dogs and cats are called by 
such names as Blacky, Whitey, Yellowy, Jewell, Pearly, &c., &c. Junks 
are christened Large Profits, Abounding Wealth, Favourite of Fortune, &c., &c. 
Places are often named after some striking geographical feature; e.g., Hankow
mouth of the Han river, i.e., its point of junction with the Yang-tsze; or they have 
fancy names, such as Fuhkienhappily established; TientsinHeavens ford; or 
names implying a special distinction, such as Nankingsouthern capital; Shan-
tungeast of the mountains, &c. 

2 The name given by foreigners in China to the imitation of the ten torture-chambers 
of purgatory, as seen in every Chng-huang or municipal temple. The various figures 
of the devil-lictors and the tortured sinners are made either of clay or wood, and 
painted in very bright colours; and in each chamber is depicted some specimen of the 
horrible tortures that wicked people will undergo in the world to come. I have given in 
the Appendix a translation of the Y-li-chao, a celebrated Taoist work on this subject, 
which should at any rate be glanced at by persons who would understand the drift of 
some of these stories. 

3 To heat the wine, which is almost invariably taken hot. 

4 In token of their mutual good feeling. 


5 The Chinese as a nation believe to this day that the heart is the seat of the intellect 
and the emotions. 

6 The heart itself is supposed to be pierced by a number of eyes, which pass right 
through and in physical and mental health these passages are believed to be clear. 

7 See No. XII., note 2. 

8 The Hsi-yan-lu, a well-known work on Chinese medical jurisprudence and an 
officially authorised book, while giving an absurd antidote against a poison that never 
existed, gravely insists that it is to be prepared at certain dates only, in some place 
quite away from women, fowls, and dogs. 

9 It was almost a wonder that she got a second fianc, few people caring to affiance 
their sons in a family where such a catastrophe has once occurred. The death of an 
engaged girl is a matter of much less importance, but is productive of a very curious 
ceremony. Her betrothed goes to the house where she is lying dead and steps over the 
coffin containing her body, returning home with a pair of the girls shoes. He thus 
severs all connection with her, and her spirit cannot haunt him as it otherwise most 
certainly would do. 

10 Held annually on the 15th of the first Chinese monthi.e., at the first full moon of 
the year, when coloured lanterns are hung at every door. It was originally a 
ceremonial worship in the temple of the First Cause, and dates from about the time of 
the Han dynasty, or nearly two thousand years ago. 

11 It was John Stuart Mill who pointed out that the fear of death is due to the illusion 
of imagination, which makes one conceive oneself as if one were alive and feeling 
oneself dead (The Utility of Religion). 

12 Boards of old age and Clothes of old age sold here are common shop-signs in 
every Chinese city; death and burial being always, if possible, spoken of 
euphemistically in some such terms as these: A dutiful son provides, when he can 
afford it, decent coffins for his father and mother. They are generally stored in the 
house, sometimes in a neighbouring temple; and the old people take pleasure in seeing 
that their funeral obsequies are properly provided for, though the subject is never 
raised in conversation. Chinese coffins are beautifully made and when the body has 
been in for a day or two, a candle is closely applied to the seams all round to make 
sure it is air-tightany crack, however fine, being easily detected by the flickering of 
the flame in the escaping gas. Thus bodies may be kept unburied for a long time, until 
the geomancer has selected an auspicious site for the grave. 

13 Gongs, red umbrellas, men carrying boards on which the officers titles are 
inscribed in large characters, a huge wooden fan, &c., &c. 

14 Be like a cash (see No. II., note 2) is a not uncommon saying among the Chinese, 
the explanation of which rests upon the fact that a cash is round in shape and 
convenient for use, which words are pronounced identically with a corresponding 
number of words meaning round in disposition, square in action. It is, in fact, a play 
on words. 


XV. MISS YING-NING, OR THE LAUGHING GIRL 

AT Lo-tien, in the province of Shantung, there lived a youth named Wang Tz.-fu, 
who had been left an orphan when quite young. He was a clever boy, and took his 
bachelors degree at the age of fourteen, being quite his mothers pet, and not allowed 
by her to stray far away from home. One young lady to whom he had been betrothed 
having unhappily died, he was still in search of a wife when, on the occasion of the 
Feast of Lanterns, his cousin Wu asked him to come along for a stroll. But they had 
hardly got beyond the village before one of his uncles servants caught them up and 
told Wu he was wanted. The latter accordingly went back; but Wang, seeing plenty of 
nice girls about and being in high spirits himself, proceeded on alone. Amongst others, 
he noticed a young lady with her maid. She had just picked a sprig of plum-blossom, 
and was the prettiest girl he had ever heard of, her smiling face being very captivating. 
He stared and stared at her quite regardless of appearances; and when she had passed 
by, she said to her maid, That young fellow has a wicked look in his eyes. As she 
was walking away, laughing and talking, the flower dropped out of her hand; and 
Wang, picking it up, stood there disconsolate as if he had lost his wits. He then went 
home in a very melancholy mood; and, putting the flower under his pillow, lay down 
to sleep. He would neither talk nor eat; and his mother became very anxious about 
him, and called in the aid of the priests.1 By degrees, he fell off in flesh and [p. 66] 
got very thin; and the doctor felt his pulse and gave him medicines to bring out the 
disease. Occasionally, he seemed bewildered in his mind, but in spite of all his 
mothers inquiries would give no clue as to the cause of his malady. One day when 
his cousin Wu came to the house, Wangs mother told him to try and find out what 
was the matter; and the former, approaching the bed, gradually and quietly led up to 
the point in question. Wang, who had wept bitterly at the sight of his cousin, now 
repeated to him the whole story, begging him to lend some assistance in the matter. 
How foolish you are, cousin, cried Wu; there will be no difficulty at all, Ill make 
inquiries for you. The girl herself cant belong to a very aristocratic family to be 
walking alone in the country. If shes not already engaged, I have no doubt we can 
arrange the affair; and even if she is unwilling, an extra outlay will easily bring her 
round.2 You make haste and get well: Ill see to it all. Wangs features relaxed when 
he heard these words; and Wu left him to tell his mother how the case stood, 
immediately setting on foot inquiries as to the whereabouts of the girl. All his efforts, 
however, proved fruitless, to the great disappointment of Wangs mother; for since his 
cousins visit Wangs colour and appetite had returned. 

In a few days Wu called again, and in answer to Wangs questions falsely told him the 
affair was settled. Who do you think the young lady is? said he. Why, a cousin of 
ours, who is only waiting to be betrothed; and though you two are a little near,3 I dare 
say this difficulty may be overcome. Wang was overjoyed, and asked where she 
lived; so Wu had to tell another lie, and say, On the south-west hills, about ten miles 
from here. Wang begged him again and again to do his best for him, [p. 67] and Wu 
undertook to get the betrothal satisfactorily arranged. 

He then took leave of his cousin, who from this moment was rapidly restored to health. 
Wang drew the flower from underneath his pillow, and found that, though dried up, 
the leaves had not fallen away. He often sat playing with this flower and thinking of 
the young lady; but by-and-by, as Wu did not reappear, he wrote a letter and asked 
him to come. Wu pleaded other engagements, being unwilling to go; at which Wang 


got into a rage and quite lost his good spirits; so that his mother, fearing a relapse, 
proposed to him a speedy betrothal in another quarter. Wang shook his head at this, 
and sat day after day waiting for Wu, until his patience was thoroughly exhausted. 

He then reflected that ten miles was no great distance, and that there was no particular 
reason for asking anybodys aid; so, concealing the flower in his sleeve, he went off 
in a huff by himself without letting it be known. Having no opportunity of asking the 
way, he made straight for the hills; and after about ten miles walking, found himself 
right in the midst of them, enjoying their exquisite verdure, but meeting no one, and 
with nothing better than mountain paths to guide him. Away down in the valley below, 
almost buried under a densely luxuriant growth of trees and flowers, he espied a small 
hamlet, and began to descend the hill and make his way thither. He found very few 
houses, and all built of rushes, but otherwise pleasant enough to look at. Before the 
door of one, which stood at the northern end of the village, were a number of graceful 
willow trees, and inside the wall plenty of peach and apricot trees, with tufts of 
bamboo between them, and birds chirping on the branches. As it was a private house, 
he did not venture to go in, but sat down to rest himself on a huge smooth stone 
opposite the front door. 

By-and-by he heard a girls voice from within calling out Hsiao-jung; and noticing 
that it was a sweet-toned voice, set himself to listen, when a young lady passed with a 
bunch of apricot-flowers in her hand, which she was sticking into her bent-down head. 
As soon as she raised her face she saw Wang, and stopped putting in the flowers; then, 
smothering a laugh, she gathered them together and ran in. Wang perceived to his 
intense delight that she was none other than his heroine of the Feast of Lanterns; but 
recollecting [p. 68] that he had no right to follow her in, was on the point of calling 
after her as his cousin. There was no one, however, in the street, and he was afraid lest 
he might have made a mistake; neither was there anybody at the door of whom he 
could make inquiries. So he remained there in a very restless state till the sun was 
well down in the west, and his hopes were almost at an end, forgetting all about food 
and drink. He then saw the young lady peep through the door, apparently very much 
astonished to find him still there; and in a few minutes out came an old woman 
leaning on a stick, who said to him, Whence do you come, Sir? I hear you have been 
here ever since morning. What is it you want? Arent you hungry? Wang got up, and 
making a bow, replied that he was in search of some relatives of his; but the old 
woman was deaf and didnt catch what he said, so he had to shout it out again at the 
top of his voice. She asked him what their names were, but he was unable to tell her; 
at which she laughed and said, It is a funny thing to look for people when you dont 
know their names. I am afraid you are an unpractical gentleman. You had better come 
in and have something to eat; well give you a bed, and you can go back tomorrow 
and find out the names of the people you are in quest of. 

Now Wang was just beginning to get hungry, and, besides, this would bring him 
nearer to the young lady; so he readily accepted and followed the old woman in. They 
walked along a paved path banked on both sides with hibiscus, the leaves of which 
were scattered about on the ground; and passing through another door, entered a 
courtyard full of trained creepers and other flowers. The old woman showed Wang 
into a small room with beautifully white walls and a branch of a crab-apple tree 
coming through the window, the furniture being also nice and clean. They had hardly 
sat down when it was clear that someone was taking a peep through the window; 


whereupon the old woman cried out, Hsiao-jung! make haste and get dinner, and a 
maid from outside immediately answered Yes, maam. Meanwhile, Wang had been 
explaining who he was; and then the old lady said, Was your maternal grandfather 
named Wu? He was, replied Wang. Well, I never! cried the old woman; he was 
my uncle, and your mother and I are cousins. But in [p. 69] consequence of our 
poverty, and having no sons, we have kept quite to ourselves, and you have grown to 
be a man without my knowing you. I came here, said Wang, about my cousin, but 
in the hurry I forgot your name. My name is Chin, replied the old lady; I have no 
son: only a girl, the child of a concubine, who, after my husbands death, married 
again[4] and left her daughter with me. Shes a clever girl, but has had very little 
education; full of fun and ignorant of the sorrows of life. Ill send for her by-and-by to 
make your acquaintance. The maid then brought in the dinnera well-grown fowl
and the old woman pressed him to eat. 

When they had finished, and the things were taken away, the old woman said, Call 
Miss Ning, and the maid went off to do so. After some time there was a giggling at 
the door, and the old woman cried out, Ying-ning! your cousin is here. There was 
then a great tittering as the maid pushed her in, stopping her mouth all the time to try 
and keep from laughing. Dont you know better than to behave like that? asked the 
old woman, and before a stranger, too. So Ying-ning controlled her feelings, and 
Wang made her a bow, the old woman saying, Mr. Wang is your cousin; you have 
never seen him before. Isnt that funny? Wang asked how old his cousin was, but the 
old woman didnt hear him, and he had to say it again, which sent Ying-ning off into 
another fit of laughter. I told you, observed the old woman, she hadnt much 
education; now you see it. She is sixteen years old, and as foolish as a baby. One 
year younger than I am, remarked Wang. Oh, youre seventeen, are you? Then you 
were born in the year , under the sign of the horse.5 Wang nodded assent, and then 
the old woman asked who his wife was, to which Wang replied that he had none. 
What! a clever, [p. 70] handsome young fellow of seventeen not yet engaged?[6] 
Ying-ning is not engaged either: you two would make a nice pair if it wasnt for the 
relationship. Wang said nothing, but looked hard at his cousin; and just then the maid 
whispered to her, It is the fellow with the wicked eyes Hes at his old game. Ying-
ning laughed, and proposed to the maid that they should go and see if the peaches 
were in blossom or not; and off they went together, the former with her sleeve stuffed 
into her mouth until she got outside, where she burst into a hearty fit of laughing. The 
old woman gave orders for a bed to be got ready for Wang, saying to him, Its not 
often we meet: you must spend a few days with us now you are here, and then well 
send you home. If you are at all dull, theres a garden behind where you can amuse 
yourself, and books for you to read. 

So next day Wang strolled into the garden, which was of moderate size, with a well-
kept lawn and plenty of trees and flowers. There was also an arbour consisting of 
three posts with a thatched roof, quite shut in on all sides by the luxuriant vegetation. 
Pushing his way among the flowers, Wang heard a noise from one of the trees, and 
looking up saw Ying-ning, who at once burst out laughing and nearly fell down. 
Dont! dont! cried Wang, youll fall! Then Ying-ning came down, giggling all 
the time, until, when she was near the ground, she missed her hold, and tumbled down 
with a run. This stopped her merriment, and, Wang picked her up, gently squeezing 
her hand as he did so. Ying-ning began laughing again, and was obliged to lean 
against a tree for support, it being some time before she was able to stop. Wang 


waited till she had finished, and then drew the flower out of his sleeve and handed it 
to her. Its dead, said she; why do you keep it? You dropped it, cousin, at the 
Feast of Lanterns, replied Wang, and so I kept it. She then asked him what was his 
object in keeping it, to which he answered, To show my love, and that I have not 
forgotten you. Since that day when we met, I have been very ill from thinking so 
much of you, and am quite changed from [p. 71] what I was. But now that it is my 
unexpected good fortune to meet you, I pray you have pity on me. You neednt 
make such a fuss about a trifle, replied she, and with your own relatives, too. Ill 
give orders to supply you with a whole basketful of flowers when you go away. 
Wang told her she did not understand, and when she asked what it was she didnt 
understand, he said, I didnt care for the flower itself; it was the person who picked 
the flower. Of course, answered she, everybody cares for their relations; you 
neednt have told me that? I wasnt talking about ordinary relations, said Wang, 
but about husbands and wives. Whats the difference? asked Ying-ning. Why, 
replied Wang, husband and wife are always together. Just what I shouldnt like, 
cried she, to be always with anybody.[7] At this juncture up came the maid, and 
Wang slipped quietly away. 

By-and-by they all met again in the house, and the old woman asked Ying-ning where 
they had been; whereupon she said they had been talking in the garden. Dinner has 
been ready a long time. I cant think what you have had to say all this while, 
grumbled the old woman. My cousin, answered Ying-ning, has been talking to me 
about husbands and wives. Wang was much disconcerted, and made a sign to her to 
be quiet, so she smiled and said no more; and the old woman luckily did not catch her 
words, and asked her to repeat them. Wang immediately put her off with something 
else, and whispered to Ying-ning that she had done very wrong. The latter did not see 
that; and when Wang told her that what he had said was private, answered him that 
she had no secrets from her old mother. Besides, added she, what harm can there 
be in talking on such a common topic as husbands and wives? 

Wang was angry with her for being so dull, [p. 72] but there was no help for it; and by 
the time dinner was over he found some of his mothers servants had come in search 
of him, bringing a couple of donkeys with them. It appeared that his mother, alarmed 
at his non-appearance, had made strict search for him in the village; and when unable 
to discover any traces of him, had gone off to the Wu family to consult. There her 
nephew, who recollected what he had previously said to young Wang, advised that a 
search should be instituted in the direction of the hills; and accordingly the servants 
had been to all the villages on the way until they had at length recognised him as he 
was coming out of the door. Wang went in and told the old woman, begging that he 
might be allowed to take Ying-ning with him. I have had the idea in my head for 
several days, replied the old woman, overjoyed; but I am a feeble old thing myself, 
and couldnt travel so far. If, however, you will take charge of my girl and introduce 
her to her aunt, I shall be very pleased. So she called Ying-ning, who came up 
laughing as usual; whereupon the old woman rebuked her, saying, What makes you 
always laugh so? You would be a very good girl but for that silly habit. Now, heres 
your cousin, who wants to take you away with him. Make haste and pack up. The 
servants who had come for Wang were then provided with refreshment, and the old 
woman bade them both farewell, telling Ying-ning that her aunt was quite well 
enough off to maintain her, and that she had better not come back. She also advised 
her not to neglect her studies, and to be very attentive to her elders, adding that she 


might ask her aunt to provide her with a good husband. Wang and Ying-ning then 
took their leave; and when they reached the brow of the hill, they looked back and 
could just discern the old woman leaning against the door and gazing towards the 
north.8 

On arriving at Wangs home, his mother, seeing a nice-looking young girl with him, 
asked in astonishment who she might be; and Wang at once told her the whole story. 
But that was all an invention of your cousin Wus! cried his mother; I havent got 
a sister, and consequently I cant have such a niece. Ying-ning here observed, I am 
not the daughter of the old woman; my father was named Chin and died when I was a 
little baby, [p. 73] so that I cant remember anything. I had a sister, said Wangs 
mother, who actually did marry a Mr. Chin, but she died many years ago, and cant 
be still living, of course. However, on inquiring as to facial appearance and 
characteristic marks, Wangs mother was obliged to acknowledge the identity, 
wondering at the same time how her sister could be alive when she had died many 
years before. Just then in came Wu, and Ying-ning retired within; and when he heard 
the story, remained some time lost in astonishment, and then said, Is this young 
ladys name Ying-ning? Wang replied that it was, and asked Wu how he came to 
know it. Mr. Chin, answered he, after his wifes death was bewitched by a fox, 
and subsequently died. The fox had a daughter named Ying-ning, as was well known 
to all the family; and when Mr. Chin died, as the fox still frequented the place, the 
Taoist Pope[9] was called in to exorcise it. The fox then went away, taking Ying-ning 
with it, and now here she is. While they were thus discussing, peals of laughter were 
heard coming from within, and Mrs. Wang took occasion to remark what a foolish girl 
she was. Wu begged to be introduced, and Mrs. Wang went in to fetch her, finding her 
in an uncontrollable fit of laughter, which she subdued only with great difficulty, and 
by turning her face to the wall. By-and-by she went out; but, after making a bow, ran 
back and burst out laughing again, to the great amusement of all the ladies. 

Wu then said he would go and find out for them all about Ying-ning and her queer 
story, so as to be able to arrange the marriage; but when he reached the spot indicated, 
village and houses had all vanished, and nothing was to be seen except hill-flowers 
scattered about here and there. He recollected that Mrs. Chin had been buried at no 
great distance from that spot; he found, [p. 74] however, that the grave had 
disappeared, and he was no longer able to determine its position. 

Not knowing what to make of it all, he returned home, and then Mrs. Wang, who 
thought the girl must be a disembodied spirit, went in and told her what Wu had said. 
Ying-ning showed no signs of alarm at this remark; neither did she cry at all when 
Mrs. Wang began to condole with her on no longer having a home. She only laughed 
in her usual silly way, and fairly puzzled them all. Sharing Miss Wangs room, she 
now began to take her part in the duties of a daughter of the family; and as for 
needlework, they had rarely seen anything like hers for fineness. But she could not get 
over that trick of laughing, which, by the way, never interfered with her good looks, 
and consequently rather amused people than otherwise, amongst others a young 
married lady who lived next door. 

Wangs mother fixed an auspicious day for the wedding, but still feeling suspicious 
about Ying-ning, was always secretly watching her. Finding, however, that she had a 
proper shadow,10 she had her dressed up when the day came, in all the finery of a 


bride and would have made her perform the usual ceremonies, only Ying-ning 
laughed so much she was unable to kneel down.11 They were accordingly obliged to 
excuse her, but Wang began to fear that such a foolish girl would never be able to 
keep the family counsel. Luckily, she was very reticent and did not indulge in gossip; 
and moreover, when Mrs. Wang was in trouble or out of temper, Ying-ning could 
always bring her round with a laugh. The maid-servants, too, if they expected a 
whipping for anything, would always ask her to be present when they appeared before 
their mistress, and thus they often escaped punishment. Ying-ning had a perfect 
passion for flowers. She got all she could out of her relations, and even secretly 
pawned her jewels to buy rare specimens; and by the end of a few months the whole 
place was one mass of flowers. Behind the house there was one especial tree[12] 
which [p. 75] belonged to the neighbours on that side; but Ying-ning was always 
climbing up and picking the flowers to stick in her hair, for which Mrs. Wang rebuked 
her severely, though without any result. 

One day the owner saw her, and gazed at her some time in rapt astonishment; 
however, she didnt move, deigning only to laugh. The gentleman was much smitten 
with her; and when she smilingly descended the wall on her own side, pointing all the 
time with her finger to a spot hard by, he thought she was making an assignation. So 
he presented himself at night-fall at the same place, and sure enough Ying-ning was 
there. Seizing her hand, to tell his passion, he found that he was grasping only a log of 
wood which stood against the wall; and the next thing he knew was that a scorpion 
had stung him violently on the finger. There was an end of his romance, except that he 
died of the wound during the night, and his family at once commenced an action 
against Wang for having a witch-wife. 

The magistrate happened to be a great admirer of Wangs talent, and knew him to be 
an accomplished scholar; he therefore refused to grant the summons, and ordered the 
prosecutor to be bambooed for false accusation.13 Wang interposed and got him off 
this punishment, and returned home himself. 

His mother then scolded Ying-ning well, saying, I knew your too playful disposition 
would some day bring sorrow upon you. But for our intelligent magistrate we should 
have been in a nice mess. Any ordinary hawk-like official would have had you 
publicly interrogated in court; and then how could your husband ever have held up his 
head again? Ying-ning looked grave and swore she would laugh no more; and Mrs. 
Wang continued, Theres no harm in laughing as long as it is seasonable laughter; 
but from that moment Ying-ning laughed no more, no matter what people did to make 
her, though at the same time her expression was by no means gloomy. 

One evening she went in tears to her husband, who wanted to know what was the 
matter. I couldnt tell you before, said she, sobbing; we had known each other such 
a short time. But now that you and your mother have been so kind to me, I will keep 
nothing from you, but tell you all. I am the daughter of a fox. When my mother went 
away she [p. 76] put me in the charge of the disembodied spirit of an old woman; with 
whom I remained for a period of over ten years. I have no brothers: only you to whom 
I can look. And now my foster-mother is lying on the hill-side with no one to bury her 
and appease her discontented shade. If not too much, I would ask you to do this, that 
her spirit may be at rest, and know that it was not neglected by her whom she brought 
up. Wang consented, but said he feared they would not be able to find her grave; on 


which Ying-ning said there was no danger of that, and accordingly they set forth 
together. 

When they arrived, Ying-ning pointed out the tomb in a lonely spot amidst a thicket 
of brambles, and there they found the old womans bones. Ying-ning wept bitterly, 
and then they proceeded to carry her remains home with them, subsequently interring 
them in the Chin family vault. That night Wang dreamt that the old woman came to 
thank him, and when he waked he told Ying-ning, who said that she had seen her also, 
and had been warned by her not to frighten Mr. Wang. Her husband asked why she 
had not detained the old lady; but Ying-ning replied, She is a disembodied spirit, and 
would be ill at ease for any time surrounded by so much life.14 Wang then inquired 
after Hsiao-jung, and his wife said, She was a fox too, and a very clever one. My 
foster-mother kept her to wait on me, and she was always getting fruit and cakes for 
me, so that I have a friendship for her and shall never forget her. My foster-mother 
told me yesterday she was married. 

After this, whenever the great fast-day[15] came round, husband and wife went off 
without fail to worship at the Chin family tomb; and by the time a year had passed 
she gave birth to a son, who wasnt a bit afraid of strangers, but laughed at everybody, 
and in fact took very much after his mother. [p. 77] 

 

1 Sickness being supposed to result from evil influences, witchcraft, &c., just as often 
as from more natural causes. 

2 The rule which guides betrothals in China is that the doors should be opposite
i.e., that the families of the bride and bridegroom should be of equal position in the 
social scale. Any unpleasantness about the value of the marriage presents, and so on, 
is thereby avoided. 

3 Marriage between persons of the same surname, except in special cases, is 
forbidden by law, for such are held to be blood relations, descended lineally from the 
original couple of that name. Inasmuch, however, as the line of descent is traced 
through the male branches only, a man may marry his cousins on the maternal side 
without let or hindrance except that of sentiment, which is sufficiently strong to keep 
these alliances down to a minimum. 

4 A very unjustifiable proceeding in Chinese eyes, unless driven to it by actual 
poverty. 

5 The Chinese years are distinguished by the names of twelve animalsnamely, rat, 
ox, tiger, hare, dragon, serpent, horse, sheep, monkey, cock, dog, and boar. To the 
common. question, What is your honourable age? the reply is frequently, I was 
born under the ; and the hearer by a short mental calculation can tell at once how 
old the speaker is, granting, of course, the impossibility of making an error of so much 
as twelve years. 


6 Parents in China like to get their sons married as early as possible, in the hope of 
seeing themselves surrounded by grandsons, and the family name in no danger of 
extinction. Girls are generally married at from fifteen to seventeen. 

7 This scene should for ever disabuse people of the notion that there is no such thing 
as making love among the Chinese. That the passion is just as much a disease in 
China as it is with us will be abundantly evident from several subsequent stories; 
though by those who have lived and mixed with the Chinese people, no such 
confirmation will be needed. I have even heard it gravely asserted by an educated 
native that not a few of his countrymen had died for love of the beautiful Miss Lin, 
the charming but fictitious heroine of the so-called Dream of the Red Chamber. 

Playgoers can here hardly fail to notice a very striking similarity to the close of the 
first act of Sir W. S. Gilberts Sweethearts. 

8 q.d. Looking sorrowfully after them. 

9 The semi-divine head of the Taoist religion, wrongly called the Master of Heaven. 
In his body is supposed to reside the soul of a celebrated Taoist, an ancestor of his, 
who actually discovered the elixir of life and became an immortal some eighteen 
hundred years ago. At death, the precious soul above-mentioned will take up its abode 
in the body of some youthful member of the family to be hereinafter revealed. 
Meanwhile, the present Pope makes a very respectable income from the sale of 
charms, by working miracles, and so forth; and only about 1877 he visited Shanghai, 
where he was interviewed by several foreigners. 

10 Disembodied spirits are supposed to have no shadow, and but very little appetite. 
There are also certain occasions on which they cannot stand the smell of sulphur. 
Fiske, in his Myths and Myth-makers (page 230), says, Almost universally, ghosts, 
however impervious to thrust of sword or shot of pistol, can eat and drink like Squire 
Westerns. 

11 See No. III., note 2. 

12 The Muh-siang or Rosa Banksiae, R. Br. 

13 Strictly in accordance with Chinese criminal law. 

14 These disembodied spirits are unable to stand for any length of time the light and 
life of this upper world, darkness and death being as it were necessary to their 
existence and comfort. 

l5 The day before the annual spring festival. 

XVI. THE MAGIC SWORD 

NING TSAI-CHEN was a Chekiang man, and a good-natured, honourable fellow, 
fond of telling people that he had only loved once. Happening to go to Chinhua, he 
took shelter in a temple to the north of the city; very nice as far as ornamentation went, 
but overgrown with grass taller than a mans head, and evidently not much frequented. 


On either side were the priests apartments, the doors of which were ajar, with the 
exception of a small room on the south side, where the lock had a new appearance. In 
the east corner he espied a group of bamboos, growing over a large pool of water-
lilies in flower; and, being much pleased with the quiet of the place, determined to 
remain; more especially as, the Grand Examiner being in the town, all lodgings had 
gone up in price. 

So he roamed about waiting till the priests should return; and in the evening a 
gentleman came and opened the door on the south side. Ning quickly made up to him, 
and with a bow informed him of his design. There is no one here whose permission 
you need ask, replied the stranger; I am only lodging here, and if you dont object to 
the loneliness, I shall be very pleased to have the benefit of your society. Ning was 
delighted, and made himself a straw bed, and put up a board for a table, as if he 
intended to remain some time; and that night, by the beams of the clear bright moon, 
they sat together in the verandah and talked. The strangers name was Yen Chih-hsia, 
and Ning thought he was a student up for the provincial examination, only his dialect 
was not that of a Chekiang man. On being asked, he said he came from Shensi; and 
there was an air of straightforwardness about all his remarks. By-and-by, when their 
conversation was exhausted, they bade each other good night and went to bed; but 
Ning, being in a strange place, was quite unable to sleep; and soon he heard sounds of 
voices from the room on the north side. Getting up, he peeped through a window, and 
saw, in a small courtyard the other side of a low wall, a woman of about forty with an 
old maid-servant in a long faded gown, humped-backed and feeble-looking. They 
were chatting by the light of the moon, and the mistress said, Why doesnt Hsiao-
chien [p. 78] come? She ought to be here by now, replied the other. She isnt 
offended with you, is she? asked the lady. Not that I know of, answered the old 
servant, but she seems to want to give trouble. Such people dont deserve to be 
treated well, said the other; and she had hardly uttered these words when up came a 
young girl of seventeen or eighteen, and very nice looking. The old servant laughed, 
and said, Dont talk of people behind their backs. We were just mentioning you as 
you came without our hearing you; but fortunately we were saying nothing bad about 
you. And, as far as that goes, added she, if I were a young fellow, why, I should 
certainly fall in love with you. If you dont praise me, replied the girl, Im sure I 
dont know who will; and then the lady and the girl said something together, and Mr. 
Ning, thinking they were the family next door, turned round to sleep without paying 
further attention to them. 

In a little while no sound was to be heard; but, as he was dropping off to sleep, he 
perceived that somebody was in the room. Jumping up in great haste, he found it was 
the young lady he had just seen; and detecting at once that she was going to attempt to 
bewitch him, sternly bade her begone. She then produced a lump of gold which he 
threw away, and told her to go after it or he would call his friend. So she had no 
alternative but to go, muttering something about his heart being like iron or stone. 

Next day, a young candidate for the examination came and lodged in the east room 
with his servant. He, however, was killed that very night, and his servant the night 
after; the corpses of both showing a small hole in the sole of the foot as if bored by an 
awl, and from which a little blood came. No one knew who had committed these 
murders, and when Mr. Yen came home, Ning asked him what he thought about it. 


Yen replied that it was the work of devils, but Ning was a brave fellow, and that 
didnt frighten him much. 

In the middle of the night Hsiao-chien appeared to him again, and said, I have seen 
many men, but none with a steel-cold heart like yours. You are an upright man, and I 
will not attempt to deceive you. I, Hsiao-chien, whose family name is Nieh, died 
when only eighteen, and was buried alongside of this temple. A devil then took 
possession of [p. 79] me, and employed me to bewitch people by my beauty, contrary 
to my inclination. There is now nothing left in this temple to slay, and I fear that imps 
will be employed to kill you. Ning was very frightened at this, and asked her what he 
should do. Sleep in the same room with Mr. Yen, replied she. What! asked he, 
cannot the spirits trouble Yen? He is a strange man, she answered, and they 
dont like going near him. Ning then inquired how the spirits worked. I bewitch 
people, said Hsiao-chien, and then they bore a hole in the foot which renders the 
victim senseless, and proceed to draw off the blood, which the devils drink. Another 
method is to tempt people by false gold, the bones of some horrid demon; and if they 
receive it, their hearts and livers will be torn out. Either method is used according to 
circumstances. Ning thanked her, and asked when he ought to be prepared; to which 
she replied, Tomorrow night. At parting she wept, and said, I am about to sink into 
the great sea, with no friendly shore at hand. But your sense of duty is boundless, and 
you can save me. If you will collect my bones and bury them in some quiet spot, I 
shall not again be subject to these misfortunes. Ning said he would do so, and asked 
where she lay buried. At the foot of the aspen-tree on which there is a birds nest, 
replied she; and passing out of the door, disappeared. 

The next day Ning was afraid that Yen might be going away somewhere, and went 
over early to invite him across. Wine and food were produced towards noon; and 
Ning, who took care not to lose sight of Yen, then asked him to remain there for the 
night. Yen declined, on the ground that he liked being by himself; but Ning wouldnt 
hear any excuses, and carried all Yens things to his own room, so that he had no 
alternative but to consent. However, he warned Ning, saying, I know you are a 
gentleman and a man of honour. If you see anything you dont quite understand, I 
pray you not to be too inquisitive; dont pry into my boxes, or it may be the worse for 
both of us. Ning promised to attend to what he said, and by-and-by they both lay 
down to sleep; and Yen, having placed his boxes on the window-sill, was soon 
snoring loudly. 

Ning himself could not sleep; and after some time he saw a [p. 80] figure moving 
stealthily outside, at length approaching the window to peep through. Its eyes flashed 
like lightning, and Ning in a terrible fright was just upon the point of calling Yen, 
when something flew out of one of the boxes like a strip of white silk, and dashing 
against the window-sill returned at once to the box, disappearing very much like 
lightning. Yen heard the noise and got up, Ning all the time pretending to be asleep in 
order to watch what happened. The former then opened the box, and took out 
something which he smelt and examined by the light of the moon. It was dazzlingly 
white like crystal, and about two inches in length by the width of an onion leaf in 
breadth. He then wrapped it up carefully and put it back in the broken box, saying, A 
bold-faced devil that, to dare thus to break my box; upon which he went back to bed; 
but Ning, who was lost in astonishment, arose and asked him what it all meant, telling 
at the same time what he himself had seen. As you and I are good friends, replied 


Yen, I wont make any secret of it. The fact is I am a Taoist priest. But for the 
window-sill the devil would have been killed; as it is, he is badly wounded. Ning 
asked him what it was he had there wrapped up, and he told him it was his sword,l on 
which he had smelt the presence of the devil. At Nings request he produced the 
weapon, a bright little miniature of a sword; and from that time Ning held his friend in 
higher esteem than ever. 

Next day he found traces of blood outside the window which led round to the north of 
the temple; and there among a number of graves he discovered the aspen tree with the 
birds nest at its summit. He then fulfilled his promise and prepared to go home, Yen 
giving him a farewell banquet, and presenting him with an old leather case which he 
said contained a sword, and would keep at a distance from him all devils and bogies. 
Ning then wished to learn a little of Yens art; but the latter replied that although he 
might accomplish this easily enough, being as he was an upright man, yet he was well 
off in life, and not in a condition where it would be of any advantage to him. Ning 
then pretending that he had a younger sister buried here, dug up Hsiao-chiens bones, 
and, having wrapped [p. 81] them up in grave-clothes, hired a boat, and set off on his 
way home. 

On his arrival, as his library looked towards the open country, he made a grave hard 
by and buried the bones there, sacrificing, and invoking Hsiao-chien as follows:In 
pity for your lonely ghost, I have placed your remains near my humble cottage, where 
we shall be near each other, and no devil will dare annoy you. I pray you reject not 
my sacrifice, poor though it be. After this, he was proceeding home when he 
suddenly heard himself addressed from behind, the voice asking him not to hurry; and 
turning round he beheld Hsiao-chien, who thanked him, saying, Were I to die ten 
times for you I could not discharge my debt. Let me go home with you and wait upon 
your father and mother; you will not repent it. Looking closely at her, he observed 
that she had a beautiful complexion, and feet as small as bamboo shoots,2 being 
altogether much prettier now that he came to see her by daylight. 

So they went together to his home, and bidding her wait awhile, Ning ran in to tell his 
mother, to the very great surprise of the old lady. Now Nings wife had been in for a 
long time, and his mother advised him not to say a word about it to her for fear of 
frightening her; in the middle of which in rushed Hsiao-chien, and threw herself on 
the ground before them. This is the young lady, said Ning; whereupon his mother in 
some alarm turned her attention to Hsiao-chien, who cried out, A lonely orphan, 
without brother or sister, the object of your sons kindness and compassion, begs to be 
allowed to give her poor services as some return for favours shown. Nings mother, 
seeing that she was a nice, pleasant-looking girl, began to lose fear of her, and replied, 
Madam, the preference you show for my son is highly pleasing to an old body like 
myself; but this is the only hope of our family, and I hardly dare agree to his taking a 
devil-wife. I have but one motive in what I ask, answered Hsiao-chien, and if 
you have no faith in disembodied people then let me regard him as my brother, and 
live under your protection, serving you like a daughter. Nings mother could not 
resist her straightforward manner, and Hsiao-chien asked to be allowed to see Nings 
wife, but this was [p. 82] denied on the plea that the lady was ill. 

Hsiao-chien then went into the kitchen and got ready the dinner, running about the 
place as if she had lived there all her life. Nings mother was, however, much afraid 


of her, and would not let her sleep in the house; so Hsiao-chien went to the library, 
and was just entering when suddenly she fell back a few steps, and began walking 
hurriedly backwards and forwards in front of the door. Ning seeing this, called out 
and asked her what it meant; to which she replied, The presence of that sword 
frightens me, and that is why I could not accompany you on your way home. Ning at 
once understood her, and hung up the sword-case in another place; whereupon she 
entered, lighted a candle, and sat down. For some time she did not speak: at length 
asking Ning if he studied at night or notFor, said she, when I was little I used to 
repeat the Lngyen sutra; but now I have forgotten more than half, and, therefore, I 
should like to borrow a copy, and when you are at leisure in the evening you might 
hear me. Ning said he would, and they sat silently there for some time, after which 
Hsiao-chien went away and took up her quarters elsewhere. 

Morning and night she waited on Nings mother, bringing water for her to wash in, 
occupying herself with household matters, and endeavouring to please her in every 
way. In the evening before she went to bed, she would always go in and repeat a little 
of the sutra, and leave as soon as she thought Ning was getting sleepy. Now the 
illness of Nings wife had given his mother a great deal of extra troublemore, in 
fact, than she was equal to; but ever since Hsiao-chiens arrival all this was changed, 
and Nings mother felt kindly disposed to the girl in consequence, gradually growing 
to regard her almost as her own child, and forgetting quite that she was a spirit. 
Accordingly, she didnt make her leave the house at night; and Hsiao-chien, who 
being a devil had not tasted meat or drink since her arrival,3 now began at the end of 
six months to take a little thin gruel. Mother and son alike became very fond of her, 
and henceforth never mentioned what she really was; neither were strangers able to 
detect the fact. 

By-and-by, Nings wife died, and his mother secretly wished him to espouse Hsiao-
chien, though she rather [p. 83] dreaded any unfortunate consequences that might 
arise. This Hsiao-chien perceived, and seizing an opportunity said to Nings mother, 
I have been with you now more than a year, and you ought to know something of my 
disposition. Because I was unwilling to injure travellers I followed your son hither. 
There was no other motive; and, as your son has shown himself one of the best of men, 
I would now remain with him for three years in order that he may obtain for me some 
mark of Imperial approbation[4] which will do me honour in the realms below. 
Nings mother knew that she meant no evil, but hesitated to put the family hopes of a 
posterity into jeopardy. Hsiao-chien, however, reassured her by saying that Ning 
would have three sons, and that the line would not be interrupted by his marrying her. 
On the strength of this the marriage was arranged, to the great joy of Ning, a feast 
prepared, and friends and relatives invited; and when in response to a call the bride 
herself came forth in her gay wedding-dress, the beholders took her rather for a fairy 
than for a devil. After this, numbers of congratulatory presents were given by the 
various female members of the family, who vied with one another in making her 
acquaintance; and these Hsiao-chien returned by gifts of paintings of flowers, done 
by herself, in which she was very skilful, the receivers being extremely proud of such 
marks of her friendship. 

One day she was leaning at the window in a despondent mood, when suddenly she 
asked where the sword-case was. Oh, replied Ning, as you seemed afraid of it, I 
moved it elsewhere. I have now been so long under the influence of surrounding 


life,5 said Hsiao-chien, that I shant be afraid of it any more. Let us hang it on the 
bed. Why so? asked Ning. For the last three days, explained she, I have been 
much agitated in mind; and I fear that the devil at the temple, angry at my escape, 
may come suddenly and carry me off. So Ning brought the sword-case, and Hsiao-
chien, after examining it closely, remarked, This is where the magician puts people. 
I wonder how many were slain before it got old and worn out as it is now. [p. 84] 
Even now when I look at it my flesh creeps. The case was then hung up, and next 
day removed to over the door. 

At night they sat up and watched, Hsiao-chien warning Ning not to go to sleep; and 
suddenly something fell down flop like a bird. Hsiao-chien in a fright got behind the 
curtain; but Ning looked at the thing, and found it was an imp of darkness, with 
glaring eyes and a bloody mouth, coming straight to the door. Stealthily creeping up, 
it made a grab at the sword-case, and seemed about to tear it in pieces, when bang!
the sword-case became as big as a wardrobe, and from it a devil protruded part of his 
body and dragged the imp in. Nothing more was heard, and the sword-case resumed 
its original size. Ning was greatly alarmed, but Hsiao-chien came out rejoicing, and 
said, Theres an end of my troubles. In the sword-case they found only a few quarts 
of clear water; nothing else. 

After these events Ning took his doctors degree and Hsiao-chien bore him a son. He 
then took a concubine, and had one more son by each, all of whom became in time 
distinguished men. 

 

1 See No. X., note 8. 

2 Which, well cooked, are a very good substitute for asparagus. 

3 See note 10 to the last story. 

4 Such as are from time to time bestowed upon virtuous widows and wives, filial sons 
and daughters, and others. These consist of some laudatory scroll or tablet, and are 
much prized by the family of the recipient. 

5 See note 14 to last story. 

XVII. THE SHUI-MANG PLANT 

THE shui-mang[1] is a poisonous herb. It is a creeper, like the bean, and has a similar 
red flower. Those who eat of it die, and become shui-mang devils, tradition asserting 
that such devils are unable to be born again unless they can find some one else who 
has also eaten of this poison to take their place.2 These shui-mang devils abound in 
the province of Hunan, where, by the way, the phrase same-year man is applied to 
those born in the same year, who exchange visits and call each other brother, their 
children addressing the fathers brother as uncle. This has now become a regular 
custom there.3 [p. 85] 


A young man named Chu was on his way to visit a same-year friend of his, when he 
was overtaken by a violent thirst. Suddenly he came upon an old woman sitting by the 
roadside under a shed and distributing tea gratis,4 and immediately walked up to her 
to get a drink. She invited him into the shed, and presented him with a bowl of tea in a 
very cordial spirit; but the smell of it did not seem like the smell of ordinary tea, and 
he would not drink it, rising up to go away. The old woman stopped him, and called 
out, San-niang! bring some good tea. Immediately a young girl came from behind 
the shed, carrying in her hands a pot of tea. She was about fourteen or fifteen years 
old, and of very fascinating appearance, with glittering rings and bracelets on her 
fingers and arms. As Chu received the cup from her his reason fled; and drinking 
down the tea she gave him, the flavour of which was unlike any other kind, he 
proceeded to ask for more. Then, watching for a moment when the old womans back 
was turned, he seized her wrist and drew a ring from her finger. The girl blushed and 
smiled; and Chu, more and more inflamed, asked her where she lived. Come again 
this evening, replied she, and youll find me here. Chu begged for a handful of her 
tea, which he stowed away with the ring, and took his leave. 

Arriving at his destination, he felt a pain in his heart, which he at once attributed to 
the tea, telling his friend what had occurred. Alas! you are undone, cried the other; 
they were shui-mang devils. My father died in the same way, and we were unable to 
save him. There is no help for you. Chu was terribly frightened, and produced the 
handful of tea, which his friend at once pronounced to be leaves of the shui-mang 
plant. He then showed him the ring, and told him what the girl had said whereupon his 
friend, after some reflection, said, She must be San-niang, of the Kou family. 
How could you know her name? asked Chu, hearing his friend use the same words 
as the old woman. [p. 86] Oh, replied he, there was a nice-looking girl of that 
name who died some years ago from eating of the same herb. She is doubtless the girl 
you saw. Here some one observed that if the person so entrapped by a devil only 
knew its name, and could procure an old pair of its shoes, he might save himself by 
boiling them in water and drinking the liquor as medicine. Chus friend thereupon 
rushed off at once to the Kou family, and implored them to give him an old pair of 
their daughters shoes; but they, not wishing to prevent their daughter from finding a 
substitute in Chu, flatly refused his request. So he went back in anger and told Chu, 
who ground his teeth with rage, saying, If I die, she shall not obtain her 
transmigration thereby. His friend then sent Min home; and just as he reached the 
door he fell down dead. 

Chus mother wept bitterly over his corpse, which was in due course interred; and he 
left behind one little boy barely a year old. His wife did not remain a widow, but in 
six months married again and went away, putting Chus son under the care of his 
grandmother, who was quite unequal to any toil, and did nothing but weep morning 
and night. 

One day she was carrying her grandson about in her arms, crying bitterly all the time, 
when suddenly in walked Chu. His mother, much alarmed, brushed away her tears, 
and asked him what it meant. Mother, replied he, down in the realms below I heard 
you weeping. I am therefore come to tend you. Although a departed spirit, I have a 
wife, who has likewise come to share your toil. Therefore do not grieve. His mother 
inquired who his wife was, to which he replied, When the Kou family sat still and 
left me to my fate I was greatly incensed against them; and after death I sought for 


San-niang, not knowing where she was. I have recently seen my old same-year friend, 
and he told me where she was. She had come to life again in the person of the baby-
daughter of a high official named Jen; but I went thither and dragged her spirit back. 
She is now my wife, and we get on extremely well together. A very pretty and well-
dressed young lady here entered, and made obeisance to Chus mother, Chu saying, 
This is San-niang, of the Kou family; and although not a living being, Mrs. Chu at 
once took a great fancy to her. Chu sent her off to help in the work of the house, and, 
in spite of not being accustomed [p. 87] to this sort of thing, she was so obedient to 
her mother-in-law as to excite the compassion of all. The two then took up their 
quarters in Chus old apartments, and there they continued to remain. 

Meanwhile San-niang asked Chus mother to let the Kou family know; and this she 
did, notwithstanding some objections raised by her son. Mr. and Mrs. Kou were 
much astonished at the news, and, ordering their carriage, proceeded at once to Chus 
house. There they found their daughter, and parents and child fell into each others 
arms. San-niang entreated them to dry their tears; but her mother, noticing the poverty 
of Chus household, was unable to restrain her feelings. We are already spirits, 
cried San-niang; what matters poverty to us? Besides, I am very well treated here, 
and am altogether as happy as I can be. They then asked her who the old woman was, 
to which she replied, Her name was Ni. She was mortified at being too ugly to entrap 
people herself, and got me to assist her. She has now been born again at a soy-shop in 
the city. Then, looking at her husband, she added, Come, since you are the son-in-
law, pay the proper respect to my father and mother, or what shall I think of you? 
Chu made his obeisance, and San-niang went into the kitchen to get food ready for 
them, at which her mother became very melancholy, and went away home, whence 
she sent a couple of maid-servants, a hundred ounces of silver, and rolls of cloth and 
silk, besides making occasional presents of food and wine, so that Chus mother lived 
in comparative comfort. San-niang also went from time to time to see her parents, but 
would never stay very long, pleading that she was wanted at home, and such excuses; 
and if the old people attempted to keep her, she simply went off by herself. Her father 
built a nice house for Chu with all kinds of luxuries in it; but Chu never once entered 
his father-in-laws door. 

Subsequently a man of the village who had eaten shui-mang, and had died in 
consequence, came back to life, to the great astonishment of everybody. However, 
Chu explained it, saying, I brought him back to life. He was the victim of a man 
named Li Chiu; but I drove off Lis spirit when it came to make the other take his 
place. Chus mother then asked her son why he did not get a [p. 88] substitute for 
himself; to which he replied, I do not like to do this. I am anxious to put an end to, 
rather than take advantage of, such a system. Besides, I am very happy waiting on you, 
and have no wish to be born again. From that time all persons who had poisoned 
themselves with shui-mang were in the habit of feasting Chu and obtaining his 
assistance in their trouble. But in ten years time his mother died, and he and his wife 
gave themselves up to sorrow, and would see no one, bidding their little boy put on 
mourning, beat his breast, and perform the proper ceremonies. 

Two years after Chu had buried his mother, his son married the granddaughter of a 
high official named Jen. This gentleman had had a daughter by a concubine, who had 
died when only a few months old; and now, hearing the strange story of Chus wife, 
he came to call on her and arrange the marriage. He then gave his granddaughter to 


Chus son, and a free intercourse was maintained between the two families. However, 
one day Chu said to his son, Because I have been of service to my generation, God 
has appointed me Keeper of the Dragons; and I am now about to proceed to my post. 
Thereupon four horses appeared in the court-yard, drawing a carriage with yellow 
hangings, the flanks of the horses being covered with scale-like trappings. Husband 
and wife came forth in full dress, and took their seats, and, while son and daughter-in-
law were weeping their adieus, disappeared from view. That very day the Kou family 
saw their daughter arrive, and, bidding them farewell, she told them the same story. 
The old people would have kept her, but she said, My husband is already on his 
way, and, leaving the house, parted from them for ever. Chus son was named Ngo, 
and his literary name was Li-chn. He begged Sanniangs bones from the Kou 
family, and buried them by the side of his fathers. [p. 89] 

 

1 Probably the Illicium religiosum, S. & Z., is meant. 

2 See No. XII., note 2. 

3 The common application of the term same-year men is to persons who have 
graduated at the same time. 

4 This is by no means an uncommon form of charity. During the temporary distress at 
Canton, in the summer of 1877, large tubs of gruel were to be seen standing at 
convenient points, ready for any poor person who might wish to stay his hunger. It is 
thus, and by similar acts of benevolence, such as building bridges, repairing roads, 
&c., &c., that the wealthy Chinaman strives to maintain an advantageous balance in 
his record of good and evil. 

XVIII. LITTLE CHU 

A MAN named Li Hua dwelt at Chang-chou. He was very well off, and about fifty 
years of age, but he had no sons; only one daughter, named Hsiao-hui, a pretty child 
on whom her parents doted. When she was fourteen she had a severe illness and died, 
leaving their home desolate and depriving them of their chief pleasure in life. Mr. Li 
then bought a concubine, and she by-and-by bore him a son, who was perfectly 
idolised, and called Chu, or the Pearl. This boy grew up to be a fine manly fellow, 
though so extremely stupid that when five or six years old he didnt know pulse from 
corn, and could hardly talk plainly. His father, however, loved him dearly, and did not 
observe his faults. 

Now it chanced that a one-eyed priest came to collect alms in the town, and he 
seemed to know so much about everybodys private affairs that the people all looked 
upon him as superhuman. He himself declared he had control over life, death, 
happiness, and misfortune and consequently no one dared refuse him whatever sum 
he chose to ask of them. From Li he demanded one hundred ounces of silver, but was 
offered only ten, which he refused to receive. This sum was increased to thirty ounces, 
whereupon the priest looked sternly at Li and said, I must have one hundred; not a 
fraction less. Li now got angry, and went away without giving him any, the priest, 
too, rising up in a rage and shouting after him, I hope you wont repent. 


Shortly after these events little Chu fell sick, and crawled about the bed scratching the 
mat, his face being of an ashen paleness. This frightened his father, who hurried off 
with eighty ounces of silver, and begged the priest to accept them. A large sum like 
this is no trifling matter to earn, said the priest, smiling; but what can a poor recluse 
like myself do for you? So Li went home, to find that little Chu was already dead; 
and this worked him into such a state that he immediately laid a complaint before the 
magistrate. The priest was accordingly summoned and interrogated; but the magistrate 
wouldnt accept his defence, and ordered him to be bambooed. The blows sounded as 
if falling on leather, [p. 90] upon which the magistrate commanded his lictors to 
search him and from about his person they drew forth two wooden men, a small coffin, 
and five small flags. The magistrate here flew into a passion, and made certain mystic 
signs with his fingers, which when the priest saw he was frightened, and began to 
excuse himself; but the magistrate would not listen to him, and had him bambooed to 
death. Li thanked him for his kindness, and, taking his leave, proceeded home. 

In the evening, after dusk, he was sitting alone with his wife, when suddenly in 
popped a little boy, who said, Pa! why did you hurry on so fast? I couldnt catch you 
up. Looking at him more closely, they saw that he was about seven or eight years old, 
and Mr. Li, in some alarm, was on the point of questioning him, when he disappeared, 
reappearing again like smoke, and, curling round and round, got upon the bed. Li 
pushed him off, and he fell down without making any sound, crying out, Pa! why do 
you do this? and in a moment he was on the bed again. Li was frightened, and ran 
away with his wife, the boy calling after them, Pa! Ma! boo-oo-oo. They went into 
the next room, bolting the door after them; but there was the little boy at their heels 
again. Li asked him what he wanted, to which he replied, I belong to Su-chou; my 
name is Chan; at six years of age I was left an orphan; my brother and his wife 
couldnt bear me, so they sent me to live at my maternal grandfathers. One day, when 
playing outside, a wicked priest killed me by his black art underneath a mulberry-tree, 
and made of me an evil spirit, dooming me to everlasting devildom without hope of 
transmigration. Happily you exposed him; and I would now remain with you as your 
son. The paths of men and devils, replied Li, lie in different directions. How can 
we remain together? Give me only a tiny room, cried the boy, a bed, a mattress, 
and a cup of cold gruel every day. I ask for nothing more. 

So Li agreed, to the great delight of the boy, who slept by himself in another part of 
the house, coming in the morning and walking in and out like any ordinary person. 
Hearing Lis concubine crying bitterly, he asked how long little Chu had been dead, 
and she told him seven days. Its cold weather now, said he, and the body cant 
have decomposed. Have the grave opened, and let me see it; if not too far [p. 91] gone, 
I can bring him to life again. Li was only too pleased, and went off with the boy; and 
when they opened the grave they found the body in perfect preservation but while Li 
was controlling his emotions, lo the boy had vanished from his sight. Wondering very 
much at this, he took little Chus body home, and had hardly laid it on the bed when 
he noticed the eyes move. Little Chu then called for some broth, which put him into a 
perspiration, and then he got up. They were all overjoyed to see him come to life 
again; and, what is more, he was much brighter and cleverer than before. At night, 
however, he lay perfectly stiff and rigid, without showing any signs of life and, as he 
didnt move when they turned him over and over, they were much frightened, and 
thought he had died again. But towards daybreak he awaked as if from a dream, and 
in reply to their questions said that when he was with the wicked priest there was 


another boy named Ko-tz.;1 and that the day before, when he had been unable to 
catch up his father, it was because he had stayed behind to bid adieu to Ko-tz.; that 
Ko-tz. was now the son of an official in Purgatory named Chiang, and very 
comfortably settled; and that he had invited him (Chan) to go and play with him that 
evening, and had sent him back on a white-nosed horse. His mother then asked him if 
he had seen little Chu in Purgatory, to which he replied, Little Chu has already been 
born again. He and our father here had not really the destiny of father and son. Little 
Chu was merely a man named Yen Tz.-fang, from Chin-ling, who had come to 
reclaim an old debt.2 Now Mr. Li had formerly traded to Chin-ling, and actually 
owed money for goods to a Mr. Yen; but he had died, and no one else knew anything 
about it, so that he was now greatly alarmed when he heard this story. 

His mother next asked (the quasi) little Chu if he had seen his sister, Hsiao-hui; and 
he said he had not, promising to go again and inquire about her. A few days 
afterwards he told his mother that Hsiao-hui was very happy in Purgatory, being 
married to a son of one of the Judges; and that she had any quantity of [p. 92] jewels,3 
and crowds of attendants when she went abroad. Why doesnt she come home to see 
her parents? asked his mother. Well, replied the boy, dead people, you know, 
havent got any flesh or bones; however, if you can only remind them of something 
that happened in their past lives, their feelings are at once touched. So yesterday I 
managed, through Mr. Chiang, to get an interview with Hsiao-hui; and we sat together 
on a coral couch, and I spoke to her of her father and mother at home, all of which she 
listened to as if she was asleep. I then remarked, Sister, when you were alive you 
were very fond of embroidering double-stemmed flowers; and once you cut your 
finger with the scissors, and the blood ran over the silk, but you brought it into the 
picture as a crimson cloud. Your mother has that picture still, hanging at the head of 
her bed, a perpetual souvenir of you. Sister, have you forgotten this? Then she burst 
into tears, and promised to ask her husband to let her come and visit you. His mother 
asked when she would arrive, but he said he could not tell. 

However, one day he ran in and cried out, Mother, Hsiao-hui has come, with a 
splendid equipage and a train of servants; we had better get plenty of wine ready. In 
a few moments he came in again, saying, Here is my sister, at the same time asking 
her to take a seat and rest. He then wept; but none of those present saw anything at all. 
By-and-by he went out and burnt a quantity of paper money4 and made offerings of 
wine outside the door, returning shortly and saying he had sent away her attendants 
for a while; also that Hsiao-hui asked if the green coverlet, a small portion of which 
had been burnt by a candle, was still in existence. It is, replied her mother, and, 
going to a box, she at once produced the coverlet. Hsiao-hui would like a bed made 
up for her in her old room, said her (quasi) brother; she [p. 93] wants to rest awhile, 
and will talk with you again in the morning. 

Now their next-door neighbour, named Chao, had a daughter who was formerly a 
great friend of Hsiao-huis, and that night she dreamt that Hsiao-hui appeared with a 
turban on her head and a red mantle over her shoulders, and that they talked and 
laughed together precisely as in days gone by. I am now a spirit, said Hsiao-hui, 
and my father and mother can no more see me than if I was far separated from them. 
Dear sister, I would borrow your body, from which to speak to them. You need fear 
nothing. 


On the morrow, when Miss Chao met her mother, she fell on the ground before her 
and remained some time in a state of unconsciousness, at length saying, Madam, it is 
many years since we met; your hair has become very white. The girls mad, said 
her mother, in alarm; and, thinking something had gone wrong, proceeded to follow 
her out of the door. Miss Chao went straight to Lis house, and there with tears 
embraced Mrs. Li, who did not know what to make of it all. Yesterday, said Miss 
Chao, when I came back, I was unhappily unable to speak with you. Unfilial wretch 
that I was, to die before you and leave you to mourn my loss. How can I redeem such 
behaviour? Her mother thereupon began to understand the scene, and, weeping, said 
to her, I have heard that you hold an honourable position, and this is a great comfort 
to me; but living as you do in the palace of a judge, how is it you are able to get 
away? My husband, replied she, is very kind; and his parents treat me with all 
possible consideration. I experience no harsh treatment at their hands. Here Miss 
Chao rested her cheek upon her hand, exactly as Hsiao-hui had been wont to do when 
she was alive; and at that moment in came her brother to say that her attendants were 
ready to return. I must go, said she, rising up and weeping bitterly all the time; after 
which she fell down, and remained some time unconscious as before. 

Shortly after these events Mr. Li became dangerously ill, and no medicines were of 
any avail, so that his son feared they would not be able to save his life. Two devils sat 
at the head of his bed, one holding an iron staff, the other a nettle-hemp rope four or 
five feet in length. Day [p. 94] and night his son implored them to go, but they would 
not move; and Mrs. Li in sorrow began to prepare the funeral clothes.5 Towards 
evening her son entered and cried out, Strangers and women leave the room! My 
sisters husband is coming to see his father-in-law. He then clapped his hands, and 
burst out laughing: What is the matter? asked his mother. I am laughing, 
answered he, because when the two devils heard my sisters husband was coming, 
they both ran under the bed, like terrapins, drawing in their heads. By-and-by, 
looking at nothing, he began to talk about the weather, and ask his sisters husband 
how he did, and then he clapped his hands and said, I begged the two devils to go, 
but they would not; its all right now. After this he went out to the door and returned, 
saying, My sisters husband has gone. He took away the two devils tied to his horse. 
My father ought to get better now. Besides, Hsiao-huis husband said he would speak 
to the judge, and obtain a hundred years lease of life both for you and my father. 
The whole family rejoiced exceedingly at this, and when night came Mr. Li was better, 
and in a few days quite well again. A tutor was engaged for the (quasi) little Chu, who 
showed himself an apt pupil, and at eighteen years of age took his bachelors degree. 
He could also see things of the other world; and when anyone in the village was ill, he 
pointed out where the devils were, and burnt them out with fire; so that everybody got 
well. However, before long he himself became very ill, and his flesh turned green and 
purple, whereupon he said, The devils afflict me thus because I let out their secrets. 
Henceforth I shall never divulge them again. 

 

1 It may be necessary here to remind the reader that Chans spirit is speaking from 
Chus body. 

2 We shall come by-and-by to a story illustrative of this extraordinary belief. 


3 The summum bonum of many a Chinese woman. 

4 Chinese silver, called sycee (from the Cantonese sai see, fine silk; because, if 
pure, it may be drawn out under the application of heat into fine silk threads), is cast 
in the form of shoes, weighing from one to one hundred ounces. Paper imitations of 
these are burnt for the use of the spirits in the world below. The sharp edges of a 
shoe of sycee are caused by the mould containing the molten silver being gently 
shaken until the metal has set, with a view to secure uniform fineness throughout the 
lump. 

5 Death is regarded as a summons from the authorities of Purgatory; lictors are sent to 
arrest the doomed man armed with a written warrant similar to those issued on earth 
from a magistrates yamn. 

XIX. MISS QUARTA HU 

MR. SHANG was a native of Tai-shan, and lived quietly with his books alone. One 
autumn night when the Silver River[1] [p. 95] was unusually distinct and the moon 
shining brightly in the sky, he was walking up and down under the shade, with his 
thoughts wandering somewhat at random, when lo a young girl leaped over the wall, 
and, smiling, asked him, What are you thinking about, Sir, all so deeply? Shang 
looked at her, and seeing that she had a pretty face, asked her to walk in. She then told 
him her name was Hu,2 and that she was called Tertia; but when he wanted to know 
where she lived, she laughed and would not say. So he did not inquire any further; and 
by degrees they struck up a friendship, and Miss Tertia used to come and chat with 
him every evening. 

He was so smitten that he could hardly take his eyes off her, and at last she said to 
him, What are you looking at? At you, cried he, my lovely rose, my beautiful 
peach. I could gaze at you all night long. If you think so much of poor me, 
answered she, I dont know where your wits would be if you saw my sister Quarta. 
Mr. Shang said he was sorry he didnt know her, and begged that he might be 
introduced; so next night Miss Tertia brought her sister, who turned out to be a young 
damsel of about fifteen, with a face delicately powdered and resembling the lily, or 
like an apricot-flower seen through mist; and altogether as pretty a girl as he had ever 
seen. Mr. Shang was charmed with her, and inviting them in, began to laugh and talk 
with the elder, while Miss Quarta sat playing with her girdle, and keeping her eyes on 
the ground. By-and-by Miss Tertia got up and said she was going, whereupon her 
sister rose to take leave also; but Mr. Shang asked her not to be in a hurry, and 
requested the elder to assist in persuading her. You neednt hurry, said she to Miss 
Quarta; and accordingly the latter remained chatting with Mr. Shang without reserve, 
and finally told him she was a fox. However, Mr. Shang was so occupied with her 
beauty that he didnt pay any heed to that; but she added, And my sister is very 
dangerous; she has already killed three people. Anyone bewitched by her has no 
chance of escape. Happily, you have bestowed your affections on me, and I shall not 
allow you to be destroyed. You must break off your acquaintance with her at once. 
Mr. Shang was very frightened, and implored her to help him; to which [p. 96] she 
replied, Although a fox, I am skilled in the arts of the Immortals;[3] I will write out a 
charm for you which you must paste on the door, and thus you will keep her away. 
So she wrote down the charm, and in the morning when her sister came and saw it, 


she fell back, crying out, Ungrateful minx! youve thrown me up for him, have you? 
You two being destined for each other, what have I done that you should treat me 
thus? 

She then went away; and a few days afterwards Miss Quarta said she too would have 
to be absent for a day, so Shang went out for a walk by himself, and suddenly beheld 
a very nice-looking young lady emerge from the shade of an old oak that was growing 
on the hill-side. Why so dreadfully pensive? said she to him; those Hu girls can 
never bring you a single cent. She then presented Shang with some money, and bade 
him go on ahead and buy some good wine, adding, Ill bring something to eat with 
me, and well have a jolly time of it. Shang took the money and went home, doing as 
the young lady had told him; and by-and-by in she herself came, and threw on the 
table a roast chicken and a shoulder of salt pork, which she at once proceeded to cut 
up. They now set to work to enjoy themselves, and had hardly finished when they 
heard some one coming in, and the next minute in walked Miss Tertia and her sister. 
The strange young lady didnt know where to hide, and managed to lose her shoes; 
but the other two began to revile her, saying, Out upon you, base fox; what are you 
doing here? They then chased her away after some trouble, and Shang began to 
excuse himself to them, until at last they all became friends again as before. 

One day, however, a Shensi man arrived, riding on a donkey, and coming to the door 
said, I have long been in search of these evil spirits: now I have got them. Shangs 
father thought the mans remark rather strange, and asked him whence he had come. 
Across much land and sea, replied he; for eight or nine months out of every year I 
am absent from my native place. These devils killed my brother with their poison, alas! 
alas! and I have sworn to exterminate them; but I have travelled many miles without 
being able to find them. They are now [p. 97] in your house, and if you do not cut 
them off, you will die even as my brother. Now Shang and the young ladies had kept 
their acquaintanceship very dark; but his father and mother had guessed that 
something was up, and, much alarmed, bade the Shensi man walk in and perform his 
exorcisms. The latter then produced two bottles which he placed upon the ground, and 
proceeded to mutter a number of charms and cabalistic formulae; whereupon four 
wreaths of smoke passed two by two into each bottle. I have the whole family, cried 
he, in an ecstasy of delight; as he proceeded to tie down the mouths of the bottles with 
pigs bladder, sealing them with the utmost care. 

Shangs father was likewise very pleased, and kept his guest to dinner; but the young 
man himself was sadly dejected, and approaching the bottles unperceived, bent his ear 
to listen. Ungrateful man, said Miss Quarta from within, to sit there and make no 
effort to save me. This was more than Shang could stand, and he immediately broke 
the seal, but found that he couldnt untie the knot. Not so, cried Miss Quarta; 
merely lay down the flag that now stands on the altar, and with a pin prick the 
bladder, and I can get out. Shang did as she bade him, and in a moment a thin streak 
of white smoke issued forth from the hole and disappeared in the clouds. When the 
Shensi man came out, and saw the flag lying on the ground, he started violently, and 
cried out, Escaped! This must be your doing, young Sir. He then shook the bottle 
and listened, finally exclaiming, Luckily only one has got away. She was fated not to 
die, and may therefore be pardoned.4 Thereupon he took the bottles and went his 
way. 


Some years afterwards Shang was one day superintending his reapers cutting the corn, 
when he descried Miss Quarta at a distance, sitting under a tree. He approached, and 
she took his hand, saying, Ten years have rolled away since last we met. Since then I 
have gained the prize of [p. 98] immortality;5 but I thought that perhaps you had not 
quite forgotten me, and so I came to see you once more. Shang wished her to return 
home with him; to which she replied, I am no longer what I was that I should mingle 
in the affairs of mortals. We shall meet again. 

And as she said this, she disappeared but twenty years later, when Shang was one day 
alone, Miss Quarta walked in. Shang was overjoyed, and began to address her; but she 
answered him, saying, My name is already enrolled in the register of the Immortals, 
and I have no right to return to earth. However, out of gratitude to you I determined to 
announce to you the date of your dissolution, that you might put your affairs in order. 
Fear nothing; I will see you safely through to the happy land. She then departed, and 
on the day named Shang actually died. A relative of a friend of mine, Mr. Li Wen-yu, 
frequently met the abovementoned Mr. Shang.6 

 

1 The Milky Way is known to the Chinese under, this nameunquestionably a more 
poetical one than our own. 

2 See No. XIII., note 1. 

3 That is, of the Taoists. See No. IV., note 1. 

4 Predestination after the event is, luckily for China, the form of this superstition 
which really appeals to her all-practical children. Not a larger percentage than with 
ourselves allow belief in an irremediable destiny to divert their efforts one moment 
from the object in view; though thousands upon thousands are ready enough to 
acknowledge the will of heaven in any national or individual calamities that may 
have befallen. See No. IX., note 3. 

5 Any disembodied spirit whose conduct for a certain term of years is quite 
satisfactory is competent to obtain this reward. Thus, instead of being born again on 
earth, perhaps as an animal, they become angels or good spirits, and live for ever in 
heaven in a state of supreme beatitude. 

6 Our author occasionally ends up with a remark of this kind; and these have 
undoubtedly had their weight with his too credulous countrymen. 

XX. MR. CHU, THE CONSIDERATE HUSBAND 

AT the village of Chu in Chi-yang, there was a man named Chu, who died at the age 
of fifty and odd years. His family at once proceeded to put on their mourning robes, 
when suddenly they heard the dead man cry out. Rushing up to the coffin, they found 
that he had come to life again; and began, full of joy, to ask him all about it. But the 
old gentleman replied only to his wife, saying, When I died I did not expect to come 
back. However, by the time I had got a few miles on my way, I thought of the poor 
old body I was leaving behind me, dependent for everything on others, and with no 


more enjoyment of life. So I made up my mind to return, and take you away with 
me. The bystanders thought this was only the disconnected talk of [p. 99] a man who 
had just regained consciousness, and attached no importance to it; but the old man 
repeated it, and then his wife said, Its all very well, but, you have only just come to 
life; how can you go and die again directly? It is extremely simple, replied her 
husband; you go and pack up everything ready. The old lady laughed and did 
nothing; upon which Mr. Chu urged her again to prepare, and then she left the house. 
In a short time she returned, and pretended that she had done what he wanted. Then 
you had better dress, said he; but Mrs. Chu did not move until he pressed her again 
and again, after which she did not like to cross him, and by-and-by came out all fully 
equipped. The other ladies of the family were laughing on the sly, when Mr. Chu laid 
his head upon the pillow, and told his wife to do likewise. Its too ridiculous, she 
was beginning to say, when Mr. Chu banged the bed with his hand, and cried out, 
What is there to laugh at in dying? upon which the various members of the family, 
seeing the old gentleman was in a rage, begged her to gratify his whim. Mrs. Chu then 
lay down alongside of her husband, to the infinite amusement of the spectators; but it 
was soon noticed that the old lady had ceased to smile, and by-and-by her two eyes 
closed. For a long time not a sound was heard, as if she was fast asleep; and when 
some of those present approached to touch her, they found she was as cold as ice, and 
no longer breathing; then, turning to her husband, they perceived that he also had 
passed away. 

This story was fully related to me by a younger sister-in-law of Mr. Chus, who, in the 
twenty-first year of the reign Kang Hsi,1 was employed in the house of a high 
official named Pi. 

 

1 A.D. 1682. 

XXI. THE MAGNANIMOUS GIRL 

AT Chin-ling there lived a young man named Ku, who had considerable ability but 
was very poor; and having an old mother, he was very loth to leave home. So he 
employed himself in writing or painting[1] for people, and gave his [p. 100] mother 
the proceeds, going on thus till he was twenty-five years of age without taking a wife. 
Opposite to their house was another building, which had long been untenanted; and 
one day an old woman and a young girl came to occupy it, but there being no 
gentleman with them young Ku did not make any inquiries as to who they were or 
whence they hailed. Shortly afterwards it chanced that just as Ku was entering the 
house he observed a young lady come out of his mothers door. She was about 
eighteen or nineteen, very clever and refined-looking, and altogether such a girl as 
one rarely sets eyes on; and when she noticed Mr. Ku, she did not run away, but 
seemed quite self-possessed. It was the young lady over the way; she came to borrow 
my scissors and measure, said his mother, and she told me that there was only her 
mother and herself. They dont seem to belong to the lower classes. I asked her why 
she didnt get married, to which she replied that her mother was old. I must go and 
call on her tomorrow, and find out how the land lies. If she doesnt expect too much, 
you could take care of her mother for her. 


So next day Kus mother went, and found that the girls mother was deaf, and that 
they were evidently poor, apparently not having a days food in the house. Kus 
mother asked what their employment was, and the old lady said they trusted for food 
to her daughters ten fingers. She then threw out some hints about uniting the two 
families, to which the old lady seemed to agree; but, on consultation with her daughter, 
the latter would not consent. Mrs. Ku returned home and told her son, saying, 
Perhaps she thinks we are too poor. She doesnt speak or laugh, is very nice-looking, 
and as pure as snow; truly no ordinary girl. 

There ended that; until one day, as Ku was sitting in his study, up came a very 
agreeable young fellow, who said he was from a neighbouring village, and engaged 
Ku to draw a picture for him. The two youths soon struck up a firm friendship and 
met constantly, when it happened that the stranger chanced to see the young lady of 
over [p. 101] the way. Who is that? said he, following her with his eyes. Ku told 
him, and then he said, She is certainly pretty, but rather stern in her appearance. By-
and-by Ku went in, and his mother told him the girl had come to beg a little rice, as 
they had had nothing to eat all day. Shes a good daughter, said his mother, and 
Im very sorry for her. We must try and help them a little. Ku thereupon shouldered a 
peck of rice, and, knocking at their door, presented it with his mothers compliments. 
The young lady received the rice but said nothing; and then she got into the habit of 
coming over and helping Kus mother with her work and household affairs, almost as 
if she had been her daughter-in-law, for which Ku was very grateful to her, and 
whenever he had anything nice he always sent some of it in to her mother, though the 
young lady herself never once took the trouble to thank him. 

So things went on until Kus mother got an abscess on her leg, and lay writhing in 
agony day and night. Then the young lady devoted herself to the invalid, waiting on 
her and giving her medicine. with such care and attention that at last the sick woman 
cried out, Oh, that I could secure such a daughter-in-law as you, to see this old body 
into its grave! The young lady soothed her, and replied, Your son is a hundred times 
more filial than I, a poor widows only daughter. But even a filial son makes a bad 
nurse, answered the patient; besides I am now drawing towards the evening of my 
life, when my body will be exposed to the mists and the dews, and I am vexed in spirit 
about our ancestral worship and the continuance of our line. As she was speaking Ku 
walked in; and his mother, weeping, said, I am deeply indebted to this young lady; 
do not forget to repay her goodness. Ku made a low bow, but the young lady said, 
Sir, when you were kind to my mother, I did not thank you; why, then, thank me? 

Ku thereupon became more than ever attached to her; but could never get her to 
depart in the slightest degree from her cold demeanour towards himself. One day, 
however, he managed to squeeze her hand, upon which she told him never to do so 
again; and then for some time he neither saw nor heard anything of her. She had 
conceived a violent dislike to the young stranger above-mentioned; and one evening 
when he was [p. 102] sitting talking with Ku, the young lady reappeared. After a 
while she got angry at something he said, and drew from her robe a glittering knife 
about a foot long. The young man, seeing her do this, ran out in a fright and she after 
him, only to find that he had vanished. She then threw her dagger up into the air, and 
whish a streak of light like a rainbow, and something came tumbling down with a flop. 
Ku got a light, and ran to see what it was; and lo! there lay a white fox, head in one 
place and body in another. There is your friend, cried the girl; I knew he would 


cause me to destroy him sooner or later. Ku dragged it into the house, and said, Let 
us wait till tomorrow to talk it over; we shall then be more calm. 

Next day the young lady arrived, and Ku inquired about her knowledge of the black 
art; but she told Ku not to trouble himself about such affairs, and to keep it secret or it 
might be prejudicial to his happiness. Ku then entreated her to consent to their union, 
to which she replied that she had already been as it were a daughter-in-law to his 
mother, and there was no need to push the thing further. Is it because I am poor? 
asked Ku. Well, I am not rich, answered she, but the fact is I had rather not. She 
then took her leave, and the next evening when Ku went across to their house to try 
once more to persuade her, the young lady had disappeared, and was never seen again. 

 

1 The usual occupation of poor scholars who are ashamed to go into trade, and who 
have not enterprise enough to start as doctors or fortune-tellers. Besides painting 
pictures and fans, and illustrating books, these men write fancy scrolls in the various 
ornamental styles so much prized by the Chinese; they keep accounts for people, and 
write or read business and private letters for the illiterate masses. 

XXII. THE BOON-COMPANION 

ONCE upon a time there was a young man named Ch who was not particularly well 
off, but at the same time very fond of his wine; so much so, that without his three 
stoups of liquor every night, he was quite unable to sleep, and bottles were seldom 
absent from the head of his bed. One night he had waked up and was turning over and 
over, when he fancied some one was in the bed with him; but then, thinking it was 
only the clothes which had slipped off, he put out his hand to feel, and, to he touched 
something silky like a cat, only larger. Striking a light, he found it was a fox, lying in 
a drunken sleep like a dog and then looking at his wine bottle he saw that it had been 
emptied. A boon-companion, said he, laughing, [p. 103] as he avoided startling the 
animal, and covering it up, lay down to sleep with his arm across it, and the candle 
alight so as to see what transformation it might undergo. 

About midnight, the fox stretched itself, and Ch cried, Well, to be sure, youve had 
a nice sleep! He then drew off the clothes, and beheld an elegant young man in a 
scholars dress; but the young man jumped up, and making a low obeisance, returned 
his host many thanks for not cutting off his head. Oh, replied Ch, I am not averse 
to liquor myself; in fact they say Im too much given to it. You shall play Pythias to 
my Damon; and if you have no objection, well be a pair of bottle-and-glass chums. 
So they lay down and went to sleep again, Ch urging the young man to visit him 
often, and saying that they must have faith in each other. The fox agreed to this, but 
when Ch awoke in the morning his bedfellow had already disappeared. 

So he prepared a goblet of first-rate wine in expectation of his friends arrival, and at 
nightfall sure enough he came. They then sat together drinking, and the fox cracked so 
many jokes that Ch said he regretted he had not known him before. And truly I 
dont know how to repay your kindness, replied the former, in preparing all this 
nice wine for me. Oh, said Ch, whats a pint or so of wine?nothing worth 
speaking of. Well, rejoined the fox, you are only a poor scholar, and money isnt 


so easily to be got. I must try if I cant secure a little wine capital for you. Next 
evening, when he arrived, he said to Ch, Two miles down towards the south-east 
you will find some silver lying by the wayside. Go early in the morning and get it. 
So on the morrow Ch set off, and actually obtained two lumps of silver, with which 
he bought some choice morsels to help them out with their wine that evening. The fox 
now told him that there was a vault in his back-yard which he ought to open; and 
when he did so, he found therein more than a hundred strings of cash.2 Now then, 
cried Ch, delighted, I shall have no more anxiety about funds for buying wine with 
all this in my purse. Ah, replied the fox, the water in a puddle [p. 104] is not 
inexhaustible. I must do something further for you. 

Some days afterwards the fox said to Ch, Buckwheat is very cheap in the market 
just now. Something is to be done in this line. Accordingly, Ch bought over forty 
tons, and thereby incurred general ridicule; but by-and-by there was a bad drought and 
all kinds of grain and beans were spoilt. Only buckwheat would grow, and Ch sold 
off his stock at a profit of one thousand per cent. His wealth thus began to increase; he 
bought two hundred acres of rich land, and always planted his crops, corn, millet, or 
what not, upon the advice of the fox secretly given him beforehand. The fox looked 
on Chs wife as a sister, and on Chs children as his own; but when, subsequently, 
Ch died, it never came to the house again. 

 

1 Kuan Chung and Pao Shu are the Chinese types of friendship. They were two 
statesmen of considerable ability, who flourished in the seventh century B.C. 

2 Say about 10. See No. II., note 2. 

XXIII. MISS LIEN-HSIANG 

THERE was a young man named Sang Tz.-ming, a native of I-chou, who had been 
left an orphan when quite young. He lived near the Saffron market, and kept himself 
very much to himself, only going out twice a day for his meals to a neighbours close 
by, and sitting quietly at home all the rest of his time. One day the said neighbour 
called, and asked him in joke if he wasnt afraid of devil-foxes, so much alone as he 
was. Oh, replied Sang, laughing, what has the superior man to fear from devil-
foxes? If they come as men, I have here a sharp sword for them; and if as women, 
why, I shall open the door and ask them to walk in. 

The neighbour went away, and having arranged with a friend of his, they got a young 
lady of their acquaintance to climb over Sangs wall with the help of a ladder, and 
knock at the door. Sang peeped through, and called out, Whos there? to which the 
girl answered, A devil! and frightened Sang so dreadfully that his teeth chattered in 
his head. The girl then ran away, and next morning when his neighbour came to see 
him, Sang told him what had happened, and said he meant to go back to his native 
place. The neighbour then clapped his hands, and said to Sang, Why didnt you ask 
her [p. 105] in? Whereupon Sang perceived that he had been tricked, and went on 
quietly again as before. 


Some six months afterwards, a young lady knocked at his door; and Sang, thinking his 
friends were at their old tricks, opened it at once, and asked her to walk in. She did so; 
and he beheld to his astonishment a perfect Helen for beauty.2 Asking her whence she 
came, she replied that her name was Lien-hsiang, and that she lived not very far off, 
adding that she had long been anxious to make his acquaintance. After that she used 
to drop in every now and again for a chat; but one evening when Sang was sitting 
alone expecting her, another young lady suddenly walked in. Thinking it was Lien-
hsiang, Sang got up to meet her, but found that the new-comer was somebody else. 
She was about fifteen or sixteen years of age, wore very full sleeves, and dressed her 
hair after the fashion of unmarried girls, being otherwise very stylish-looking and 
refined, and apparently hesitating whether to go on or go back. Sang, in a great state 
of alarm, took her for a fox; but the young lady said, My name is Li, and I am of a 
respectable family. Hearing of your virtue and talent, I hope to be accorded the 
honour of your acquaintance. Sang laughed, and took her by the hand, which he 
found was as cold as ice; and when he asked the reason, she told him that she had 
always been delicate, and that it was very chilly outside. She then remarked that she 
intended to visit him pretty frequently, and hoped it would not inconvenience him; so 
he explained that no one came to see him except another young lady, and that not very 
often. When she comes, Ill go, replied the young lady, and only drop in when 
shes not here. She then gave him an embroidered slipper, saying that she had worn 
it, and that whenever he shook it she would know that he wanted to see her, 
cautioning him at the same time never to shake it before strangers. Taking it in his 
hand he beheld a very tiny little shoe almost as fine-pointed as an awl, with which he 
was much pleased and next evening, when nobody was present, he produced the shoe 
and shook it, whereupon the young lady [p. 106] immediately walked in. Henceforth, 
whenever he brought it out, the young lady responded to his wishes and appeared 
before him. This seemed so strange that at last he asked her to give him some 
explanation; but she only laughed, and said it was mere coincidence. 

One evening after this Lien-hsiang came, and said in alarm to Sang, Whatever has 
made you look so melancholy? Sang replied that he did not know, and by-and-by she 
took her leave, saying they would not meet again for some ten days. During this 
period Miss Li visited Sang every day, and on one occasion asked him where his other 
friend was. Sang told her; and then she laughed and said, What is your opinion of me 
as compared with Lien-hsiang? You are both of you perfection, replied he, but 
you are a little colder of the two. Miss Li didnt much like this, and cried out, Both 
of us perfection is what you say to me. Then she must be a downright Cynthia,3 and I 
am no match for her. Somewhat out of temper, she reckoned that Lien-hsiangs ten 
days had expired, and said she would have a peep at her, making Sang promise to 
keep it all secret. The next evening Lien-hsiang came, and while they were talking she 
suddenly exclaimed, Oh, dear! how much worse you seem to have become in the last 
ten days. You must have encountered something bad. Sang asked her why so; to 
which she answered, First of all your appearance; and then your pulse is very 
thready.4 Youve got the devil-disease. 

The following evening when Miss Li came, Sang asked her what she thought of Lien-
hsiang, Oh, said she, theres no question about her beauty; but shes a fox. When 
she went away I followed her to her hole on the hill-side. Sang, however, attributed 
this remark to jealousy, and took no notice of it; but the next evening when Lien-
hsiang came, he observed, I dont believe it myself, but some one has told me you 


are a fox. Lien-hsiang asked who had said so, to which Sang replied that he was only 
joking; and then she begged him to explain what difference there was between a fox 
and an ordinary person. Well, answered Sang, foxes frighten people to death, and, 
therefore, they are very much dreaded. Dont you believe that! cried Lien-hsiang; 
and now tell me who has been saying this of me. Sang [p. 107] declared at first that 
it was only a joke of his, but by-and-by yielded to her instances, and let out the whole 
story. Of course I saw how changed you were, said Lien-hsiang; she is surely not a 
human being to be able to cause such a rapid alteration in you. Say nothing; tomorrow 
Ill watch her as she watched me. The following evening Miss Li came in; and they 
had hardly interchanged half a dozen sentences when a cough was heard outside the 
window, and Miss Li ran away. Lien-hsiang then entered and said to Sang, You are 
lost! She is a devil, and if you do not at once forbid her coming here, you will soon be 
on the road to the other world. All jealousy, thought Sang, saying nothing; as Lien-
hsiang continued, I know that you dont like to be rude to her; but I, for my part, 
cannot see you sacrificed, and tomorrow I will bring you some medicine to expel the 
poison from your system. Happily, the disease has not yet taken firm hold of you, and 
in ten days you will be well again. The next evening she produced a knife and 
chopped up some medicine for Sang, which made him feel much better; but, although 
he was very grateful to her, he still persisted in disbelieving that he had the devil-
disease. 

After some days he recovered and Lien-hsiang left him, warning him to have no more 
to do with Miss Li. Sang pretended that he would follow her advice, and closed the 
door and trimmed his lamp. He then took out the slipper, and on shaking it Miss Li 
appeared, somewhat cross at having been kept away for several days. She merely 
attended on me these few nights while I was ill, said Sang; dont be angry. At this 
Miss Li brightened up a little; but by-and-by Sang told her that people said she was a 
devil. Its that nasty fox, cried Miss Li, after a pause, putting these things into your 
head. If you dont break with her, I wont come here again. She then began to sob 
and cry, and Sang had some trouble in pacifying her. 

Next evening Lien-hsiang came and found out that Miss Li had been there again; 
whereupon she was very angry with Sang, and told him he would certainly die. Why 
need you be so jealous? said Sang, laughing; at which she only got more enraged, 
and replied, When you were nearly dying the other day and I saved you, if I had not 
been jealous, where would [p. 108] you have been now? Sang pretended he was only 
joking, and said that Miss Li had told him his recent illness was entirely owing to the 
machinations of a fox; to which she replied, Its true enough what you say, only you 
dont see whose machinations, However, if anything happens to you, I should never 
clear myself even had I a hundred mouths; we will, therefore, part. A hundred days 
hence I shall see you on your bed. Sang could not persuade her to stay, and away she 
went; and from that time Miss Li became a regular visitor. 

Two months passed away, and Sang began to experience a feeling of great lassitude, 
which he tried at first to shake off, but by-and-by he became very thin, and could only 
take thick gruel. He then thought about going back to his native place; however, he 
could not bear to leave Miss Li, and in a few more days he was so weak that he was 
unable to get up. His friend next door, seeing how ill he was, daily sent in his boy 
with food and drink; and now Sang began for the first time to suspect Miss Li. So he 
said to her, I am sorry I didnt listen to Lien-hsiang before I got as bad as this. He 


then closed his eyes and kept them shut for some time; and when he opened them 
again, Miss Li had disappeared. Their acquaintanceship was thus at an end, and Sang 
lay all emaciated as he was upon his bed in his solitary room longing for the return of 
Lien-hsiang. 

One day, while he was still thinking about her, someone drew aside the screen and 
walked in. It was Lien-hsiang; and approaching the bed she said with a smile, Was I 
then talking such nonsense? Sang struggled a long time to speak; and, at length, 
confessing he had been wrong, implored her to save him. When the disease has 
reached such a pitch as this, replied Lien-hsiang, there is very little to be done. I 
merely came to bid you farewell, and to clear up your doubts about my jealousy. In 
great tribulation, Sang asked her to take something she would find under his pillow 
and destroy it; and she accordingly drew forth the slipper, which she proceeded to 
examine by the light of the lamp, turning it over and over. All at once Miss Li walked 
in, but when she saw Lien-hsiang she turned back as though she would run away, 
which Lien-hsiang instantly prevented by placing herself in the doorway. Sang then 
began to [p. 109] reproach her, and Miss Li could make no reply; whereupon Lien-
hsiang said, At last we meet. Formerly you attributed this gentlemans illness to me; 
what have you to say now? Miss Li bent her head in acknowledgment of her guilt, 
and Lien-hsiang continued, How is it that a nice girl like you can thus turn love into 
hate? Here Miss Li threw herself on the ground in a flood of tears and begged for 
mercy; and Lien-hsiang, raising her up, inquired of her as to her past life. I am a 
daughter of a petty official named Li, and I died young, leaving the web of my destiny 
incomplete, like the silkworm that perishes in the spring. To be the partner of this 
gentleman was my ardent wish; but I had never any intention of causing his death. I 
have heard, remarked Lien-hsiang, that the advantage devils obtain by killing 
people is that their victims are ever with them after death. Is this so? It is not, 
replied Miss Li; the companionship of two devils gives no pleasure to either. Were it 
otherwise, I should not have wanted for friends in the realms below. But tell me, how 
do foxes manage not to kill people? You allude to such foxes as suck the breath out 
of people? replied Lien-hsiang; I am not of that class. Some foxes are harmless; no 
devils are,5 because of the dominance of the yin[6] in their compositions. 

Sang now knew that these two girls were really a fox and a devil; however, from 
being long accustomed to their society, he was not in the least alarmed. His breathing 
had dwindled to a mere thread, and at length he uttered a cry of pain. Lien-hsiang 
looked round and said, How shall we cure him? upon which Miss Li blushed deeply 
and drew back; and then Lien-hsiang added, If he does get well, Im afraid you will 
be dreadfully jealous. Miss Li drew herself up, and replied, Could a physician be 
found to wipe away the wrong I have done to this gentleman, I would bury my head in 
the ground. How [p. 110] should I look the world in the face? Lien-hsiang here 
opened a bag and drew forth some drugs, saying, I have been looking forward to this 
day. When I left this gentleman I proceeded to gather my simples, as it would take 
three months for the medicine to be got ready; but then, should the poison have 
brought anyone even to deaths door, this medicine is able to call him back. The only 
condition is that it be administered by the very hand which wrought the ill. Miss Li 
did as she was told, and put the pills Lien-hsiang gave her one after another into 
Sangs mouth. They burnt his inside like fire; but soon vitality began to return, and 
Lien-hsiang cried out, He is cured! 


Just at this moment Miss Li heard the cock crow and vanished,7 Lien-hsiang 
remaining behind in attendance on the invalid, who was unable to feed himself. She 
bolted the outside door and pretended that Sang had returned to his native place, so as 
to prevent visitors from calling. Day and night she took care of him, and every 
evening Miss Li came in to render assistance, regarding Lien-hsiang as an elder sister, 
and being treated by her with great consideration and kindness. Three months 
afterwards Sang was as strong and well as ever he had been, and then for several 
evenings Miss Li ceased to visit them, only staying a few moments when she did 
come, and seeming very uneasy in her mind. 

One evening Sang ran after her and carried her back in his arms, finding her no 
heavier than so much straw; and then, being obliged to stay, she curled herself up and 
lay down, to all appearance in a state of unconsciousness, and by-and-by she was 
gone. For many days they heard nothing of her, and Sang was so anxious that she 
should come back that he often took out her slipper and shook it. I dont wonder at 
your missing her, said Lien-hsiang, I do myself very much indeed. Formerly, 
observed Sang, when I [p. 111] shook the slipper she invariably came. I thought it 
was very strange, but I never suspected her of being a devil. And now, alas! all I can 
do is to sit and think about her with this slipper in my hand. He then burst into a 
flood of tears. 

Now a young lady named Yen-rh, belonging to the wealthy Chang family, and about 
fifteen years of age, had died suddenly, without any apparent cause, and had come to 
life again in the night, when she got up and wished to go out. They barred the door 
and would not hear of her doing so; upon which she said, I am the spirit daughter of 
a petty magistrate. A Mr. Sang has been very kind to me, and I have left my slipper at 
his house. I am really a spirit; what is the use of keeping me in? There being some 
reason for what she said, they asked her why she had come there; but she only looked 
up and down without being able to give any explanation. Some one here observed, 
that Mr. Sang had already gone home, but the young lady utterly refused to believe 
them. The family was much disturbed at all this; and when Sangs neighbour heard 
the story, he jumped over the wall, and peeping through beheld Sang sitting there 
chatting with a pretty-looking girl. As he went in, there was some commotion, during 
which Sangs visitor had disappeared, and when his neighbour asked the meaning of it 
all, Sang replied laughing, Why, I told you if any ladies came I should ask them in. 
His friend then repeated what Miss Yen-rh had said; and Sang, unbolting his door, 
was about to go and have a peep at her, but unfortunately had no means of so doing. 
Meanwhile Mrs. Chang, hearing that he had not gone away, was more lost in 
astonishment than ever, and sent an old woman-servant to get back the slipper. Sang 
immediately gave it to her, and Miss Yen-rh was delighted to recover it, though 
when she came to try it on it was too small for her by a good inch. In considerable 
alarm, she seized a mirror to look at herself and suddenly became aware that she had 
come to life again in some one elses body. She therefore told all to her mother, and 
finally succeeded in convincing her, crying all the time because she was so changed 
for the worse as regarded personal appearance from what she had been before. And 
whenever she happened to see Lien-hsiang, she was very much disconcerted, 
declaring [p. 112] that she had been much better off as a devil than now as a human 
being. 


She would sit and weep over the slipper, no one being able to comfort her; and finally, 
covering herself up with bed-clothes, she lay all stark and stiff, positively refusing to 
take any nourishment. Her body swelled up, and for seven days she refused all food, 
but did not die; and then the swelling began to subside, and an intense hunger to come 
upon her which made her once more think about eating. Then she was troubled with a 
severe irritation, and her skin peeled entirely away; and when she got up in the 
morning, she found that her shoes had fallen off. On trying to put them on again, she 
discovered that they did not fit her any longer; and then she went back to her former 
pair, which were now exactly of the right size and shape. In an ecstasy of joy, she 
grasped her mirror, and saw that her features had also changed back to what they had 
formerly been; so she washed and dressed herself and went in to visit her mother. 

Every one who met her was much astonished; and when Lien-hsiang heard the strange 
story, she tried to persuade Mr. Sang to make her an offer of marriage. But the young 
lady was rich and Sang was poor, and he did not see his way clearly. However, on 
Mrs. Changs birthday, when she completed her cycle,8 Sang went along with the 
others to wish her many happy returns of the day; and when the old lady knew who 
was coming, she bade Yen-rh take a peep at him from behind the curtain. Sang 
arrived last of all; and immediately out rushed Miss Yen-rh and seized his sleeve, 
and said she would go back with him. Her mother scolded her well for this, and she 
ran in abashed; but Sang, who had looked at her closely, began to weep, and threw 
himself at the feet of Mrs. Chang, who raised him up without saying anything unkind. 
Sang then took his leave, and got his uncle to act as medium between them; the result 
being that an auspicious day was fixed upon for the wedding. 

At the appointed time Sang [p. 113] proceeded to the house to fetch her; and when he 
returned he found that, instead of his former poor-looking furniture, beautiful carpets 
were laid down from the very door, and thousands of coloured lanterns were hung 
about in elegant designs. Lien-hsiang assisted the bride to enter, and took off her veil, 
finding her the same bright girl as ever. She also joined them while drinking the 
wedding cup,9 and inquired of her friend as to her recent transmigration; and Yen-rh 
related as follows:Overwhelmed with grief, I began to shrink from myself as some 
unclean thing; and, after separating from you that day, I would not return any more to 
my grave. So I wandered about at random, and whenever I saw a living being, I 
envied its happy state. By day I remained among trees and shrubs, but at night I used 
to roam about anywhere. And once I came to the house of the Chang family, where, 
seeing a young girl lying upon the bed, I took possession of her mortal coil, 
unknowing that she would be restored to life again. When Lien-hsiang heard this she 
was for some time lost in thought; and a month or two afterwards became very ill. She 
refused all medical aid and gradually got worse and worse, to the great grief of Mr. 
Sang and his wife, who stood weeping at her bedside. Suddenly she opened her eyes, 
and said, You wish to live; I am willing to die. If fate so ordains it, we shall meet 
again ten years hence. As she uttered these words, her spirit passed away, and all that 
remained was the dead body of a fox. Sang, however, insisted on burying it with all 
the proper ceremonies. 

Now his wife had no children; but one day a servant came in and said, There is an 
old woman outside who has got a little girl for sale. Sangs wife gave orders that she 
should be shown in; and no sooner had she set eyes on the girl than she cried out, 
Why, shes the image of Lien-hsiang! Sang then looked at her, and found to his 


astonishment that she was really very like his old friend. The old woman said she was 
fourteen years old; [p. 114] and when asked what her price was, declared that her only 
wish was to get the girl comfortably settled, and enough to keep herself alive, and 
ensure not being thrown out into the kennel at death. So Sang gave a good price for 
her;10 and his wife, taking the girls hand, led her into a room by themselves. Then, 
chucking her under the chin, she asked her, smiling, Do you know me? The girl said 
she did not; after which she told Mrs. Sang that her name was Wei, and that her father, 
who had been a pickle-merchant at Hsu-cheng, had died three years before. Mrs. 
Sang then calculated that Lien-hsiang had been dead just fourteen years; and, looking 
at the girl, who resembled her so exactly in every trait, at length patted her on the 
head, saying, Ah, my sister, you promised to visit us again in ten years, and you have 
not played us false. The girl here seemed to wake up as if from a dream, and, uttering 
an exclamation of surprise, fixed a steady gaze upon Sangs wife. Sang himself 
laughed, and said, Just like the return of an old familiar swallow. Now I 
understand, cried the girl, in tears; I recollect my mother saying that when I was 
born I was able to speak and that, thinking it an inauspicious manifestation, they gave 
me dogs blood to drink, so that I should forget all about my previous state of 
existence.[11] Is it all a dream; or are you not the Miss Li who was so ashamed of 
being a devil? 

Thus they chatted of their existence in a former life, with alternate tears and smiles; 
but when [p. 115] it came to the day for worshipping at the tombs, Yen-rh explained 
that she and her husband were in the habit of annually visiting and mourning over her 
grave. The girl replied that she would accompany them; and when they got there they 
found the whole place in disorder, and the coffin wood all warped. Lien-hsiang and 
I, said Yen-rh to her husband, have been attached to each other in two states of 
existence. Let us not be separated, but bury my bones here with hers. Sang consented, 
and opening Miss Lis tomb took out the bones and buried them with those of Lien-
hsiang, while friends and relatives, who had heard the strange story, gathered round 
the grave in gala dress to the number of many hundreds. 

I learnt the above when travelling through I-chow, where I was detained at an inn by 
rain, and read a biography of Mr. Sang written by a comrade of his named Wang Tz.-
chang. It was lent me by a Mr. Liu Tz.-Ching, a relative of Sangs, and was quite a 
long account. This is merely an outline of it. [p. 115] 

 

1 The term constantly employed by Confucius to denote the man of perfect probity, 
learning, and refinement. The nearest, if not a exact, translation would be 
gentleman. 

2 Literally, a young lady whose beauty would overthrow a kingdom, in allusion to 
an old story which it is not necessary to reproduce here. 

3 The Lady of the Moon. See No. V., note 2. 

4 See No. VIII., note 4. 

5 Miss Lien-hsiang was here speaking without book, as will be seen in a story later on. 


6 The female principle. In a properly-constituted human being the male and female 
principles are harmoniously combined. Nothing short of a small volume would place 
this subject, the basis of Chinese metaphysics, in a clear light before the uninitiated 
reader. Broadly speaking, the yin and the yang are the two primeval forces from the 
interaction of which all things have been evolved. 

7 Ber.It was about to speak, when the cock crew. 

Hor. And then it started like a guilty thing 

Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, 

The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, 

Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat 

Awake the God of Day; and, at his warning, 

Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, 

The extravagant and erring sprit hies 

To his confine. Hamlet 

 

8 The Chinese cycle is sixty years, and the birthday on which any person completes 
his cycle is considered a very auspicious occasion. The second emperor of the present 
dynasty, Kang Hsi, completed a cycle in his reign, with one year to spare; and his 
grandson, Chien Lung (or Kien Lung) fell short of this only by a single year, dying in 
the same cyclical period as that in which he had ascended the throne. 

9 Bride and bridegroom drink wine together out of two cups joined by a red string, 
typical of that imaginary bond which is believed to unite the destinies of husband and 
wife long before they have set eyes on each other. Popular tradition assigns to an old 
man who lives in the moon the arrangement of all matches among mortals hence the 
common Chinese expression, Marriages are made in the moon. 

10 The bill of sale always handed to the purchaser of a child in China, as a proof that 
the child is his bona fide property and has not been kidnapped, is by a pleasant fiction 
called a deed of gift, the amount paid over to the seller being therein denominated 
ginger and vinegar money, or compensation for the expense of rearing and 
educating up to the date of sale. This phrase originates from the fact that a dose of 
ginger and vinegar is administered to every Chinese woman immediately after the 
delivery of her child. 

We may here add that the value of male children to those who have no heirs, and of 
female children to those who want servants, has fostered a regular kidnapping trade, 
which is carried on with great activity in some parts of China, albeit the penalty on 
discovery is instant decapitation. Some years ago I was present in the streets of 
Tientsin when a kidnapper was seized by the infuriated mob, and within two hours I 
heard that the man had been summarily executed. 

11 The power of recalling events which have occurred in a previous life will be 
enlarged upon in several stories to come. 


XXIV. MISS A-PAO; OR, PERSEVERANCE REWARDED 

IN the province of Kuang-si there lived a scholar of some reputation, named Sun Tzu-
chu. He was born with six fingers, and such a simple fellow was he that he readily 
believed any nonsense he was told. Very shy with the fair sex, the sight of a woman 
was enough to send him flying in the opposite direction; and once when he was 
inveigled into a room where there were some young ladies, he blushed down to his 
neck and the perspiration dripped off him like falling pearls. His companions laughed 
heartily at his discomfiture, and told fine stories of what a noodle he looked, so that he 
got the nickname of Silly Sun. 

In the town where our hero resided, there was a rich trader whose wealth equalled that 
of any prince or nobleman, and whose connections were all highly aristocratic.1 [p. 
116] He had a daughter, A-pao, of great beauty, for whom he was seeking a husband; 
and the young men of position in the neighbourhood were vieing with each other to 
obtain her hand, but none of them met with the fathers approval. Now Silly Sun had 
recently lost his wife; and some one in joke persuaded him to try his luck and send in 
an application: Sun, who had no idea of his own shortcomings, proceeded at once to 
follow this advice; but the father, though he knew him to be an accomplished scholar, 
rejected his suit on the ground of poverty. As the go-between[2] was leaving the 
house, she chanced to meet A-pao, and related to her the object of her visit. Tell 
him, cried A-pao, laughing, that if hell cut off his extra finger, Ill marry him. The 
old woman reported this to Sun, who replied, That is not very difficult; and, seizing 
a chopper, cut the finger clean off. The wound was extremely painful, and he lost so 
much blood that he nearly died, it being many days before he was about again. 

He then sought out the go-between and bade her inform Miss A-pao, which she did; 
and A-pao was taken rather aback, but she told the old woman to go once more and 
bid him cut off the silly from his reputation. Sun got much excited when he heard 
this, and denied that he was silly; however, as he was unable to prove it to the young 
lady herself, he began to think that probably her beauty was overstated, and that she 
was giving herself great airs. So he ceased to trouble himself about her until the 
following spring festival,3 when it was customary for both men and women to be seen 
abroad, and the young rips of the place would stroll about in groups and pass their 
remarks on all and sundry. Suns friends urged him to join them in their expedition, 
and one of them asked him with a smile if he did not wish to look out for a suitable 
mate. Sun knew they were chaffing him, but he thought he [p. 117] should like to see 
the girl that had made such a fool of him, and was only too pleased to accompany 
them. They soon perceived a young lady resting herself under a tree, with a throng of 
young fellows crowding round her, and they immediately determined that she must be 
A-pao, as in fact they found she was. Possessed of peerless beauty, the ring of her 
admirers gradually increased, till at last she rose up to go. The excitement among the 
young men was intense; they criticised her face and discussed her feet,4 Sun only 
remaining silent; and when they had passed on to something else, there they saw Sun 
rooted like an imbecile to the same spot. As he made no answer when spoken to, they 
dragged him along with them, saying, Has your spirit run away after A-pao? He 
made no reply to this either; but they thought nothing of that, knowing his usual 
strangeness of manner, so by dint of pushing and pulling they managed to get him 
home. 


There he threw himself on the bed and did not get up again for the rest of the day, 
lying in a state of unconsciousness just as if he were drunk. He did not wake when 
called; and his people; thinking that his spirit had fled, went about in the fields calling 
out to it to return. However, he showed no signs of improvement; and when they 
shook him, and asked him what was the matter, he only answered in a sleepy kind of 
voice, I am at A-paos house; but to further questions he would not make any reply, 
and left his family in a state of keen suspense. 

Now when Silly Sun had seen the young lady get up to go, he could not bear to part 
with her, and found himself first following and then walking along by her side 
without anyone saying anything to him. Thus he went back with her to her home, and 
there he remained for three days, longing to run home and get something to eat, but 
unfortunately not knowing the way. By that time Sun had [p. 118] hardly a breath left 
in him; and his friends, fearing that he was going to die, sent to beg of the rich trader 
that he would allow a search to be made for Suns spirit in his house. The trader 
laughed and said, He wasnt in the habit of coming here, so he could hardly have left 
his spirit behind him; but he yielded to the entreaties of Suns family, and permitted 
the search to be made. Thereupon a magician proceeded to the house, taking with him 
an old suit of Suns clothes and some grass matting; and when Miss A-pao heard the 
reason for which he had come, she simplified matters very much by leading the 
magician straight to her own room. The magician summoned the spirit in due form, 
and went back towards Suns house. By the time he had reached the door, Sun 
groaned and recovered consciousness; and he was then able to describe all the articles 
of toilette and furniture in A-paos room without making a single mistake. A-pao was 
amazed when the story was repeated to her, and could not help feeling kindly towards 
him on account of the depth of his passion. Sun himself, when he got well enough to 
leave his bed, would often sit in a state of abstraction as if he had lost his wits; and he 
was for ever scheming to try and have another glimpse at A-pao. 

One day he heard that she intended to worship at the Shui-yeh temple on the 8th of 
the fourth moon, that day being the Wash-Buddha festival; and he set off early in the 
morning to wait for her at the roadside. He was nearly blind with straining his eyes, 
and the sun was already past noontide before the young lady arrived; but when she 
saw from her carriage a gentleman standing there, she drew aside the screen and had a 
good stare at him. Sun followed her in a great state of excitement, upon which she 
bade one of her maids to go and ask his name. Sun told her who he was, his 
perturbation all the time increasing; and when the carriage drove on he returned home. 

Again he became very ill, and lay on his bed unconscious, without taking any food, 
occasionally calling on A-pao by name, at the same time abusing his spirit for not 
having been able to follow her as before. Just at this juncture a parrot that had been 
long with the family died; and a child, playing with the body, laid it upon the bed. Sun 
then reflected that if he was only a parrot one flap of [p. 119] his wings would bring 
him into the presence of A-pao; and while occupied with these thoughts, lo! the dead 
body moved and the parrot flew away. It flew straight to A-paos room, at which she 
was delighted; and catching it, tied a string to its leg, and fed it upon hemp-seed. 
Dear sister, cried the bird, do not tie me by the leg: I am Sun Tz.-chu. In great 
alarm A-pao untied the string, but the parrot did not fly away. Alas said she, your 
love has engraved itself upon my heart; but now you are no longer a man, how shall 
we ever be united together? To be near your dear self, replied the parrot, is all I 


care about! The parrot then refused to take food from anyone else, and kept close to 
Miss A-pao wherever she went, day and night alike. 

At the expiration of three days, A-pao, who had grown very fond of her parrot, 
secretly sent some one to ask how Mr. Sun was; but he had already been dead three 
days, though the part over his heart had not grown cold. Oh! come to life again as a 
man, cried the young lady, and I swear to be yours for ever. You are surely not in 
earnest, said the parrot, are you? Miss A-pao declared she was, and the parrot, 
cocking its head aside, remained some time as if absorbed in thought. By-and-by A-
pao took off her shoes to bind her feet a little tighter;6 and the parrot, making a rapid 
grab at one, flew off with it in its beak. She called loudly after it to come back, but in 
a moment it was out of sight; so she next sent a servant to inquire if there was any 
news of Mr. Sun, and then learnt that he had come round again, the parrot having 
flown in with an embroidered shoe and dropped down dead on the ground. Also, that 
directly he regained consciousness he asked for the shoe, of which his people knew 
nothing; at which moment her servant had arrived, and demanded to know from him 
where it was. It was given to me by Miss A-pao as a pledge of faith, replied Sun; I 
beg you will tell her I have not forgotten her promise. 

A-pao was greatly astonished at this, and instructed her maid to divulge the whole 
affair to her mother, who, when she had made some inquiries, observed that Sun was 
well known [p. 120] as a clever fellow, but was desperately poor, and to get such a 
son-in-law after all our trouble would give our aristocratic friends the laugh against 
us. However, A-pao pleaded that with the shoe there as a proof against her, she 
would not marry anybody else; and, ultimately, her father and mother gave their 
consent. 

This was immediately announced to Mr. Sun, whose illness rapidly disappeared in 
consequence. A-paos father would have had Sun come and live with them;8 but the 
young lady objected, on the score that a son-in-law should not remain long at a time 
with the family of his wife,9 and that as he was poor he would lower himself still 
more by doing so. I have accepted him, added she, and I shall gladly reside in his 
humble cottage, and share his poor fare without complaint. The marriage was then 
celebrated, and bride and bridegroom met as if for the first time in their lives.10 

The dowry A-pao brought with her somewhat raised their pecuniary position, and 
gave them a certain amount of comfort; but Sun himself stuck only to his books, and 
knew nothing about managing affairs in general. Luckily his wife was clever in that 
respect, and did not bother him with such things; so much so that by the end of three 
years they were comparatively well off, when Sun suddenly fell ill and died. 

Mrs. Sun was inconsolable, and refused either to sleep or take nourishment, being 
deaf to all entreaties on the subject; and before long, taking advantage of the night, 
she hanged herself.11 Her maid, hearing a noise, ran in and cut her down just in time 
[p. 121] but she still steadily refused all food. 

Three days passed away, and the friends and relatives of Sun came to attend his 
funeral, when suddenly they heard a sigh proceeding forth from the coffin. The coffin 
was then opened and they found that Sun had come to life again. He told them that he 
had been before the Great Judge, who, as a reward for his upright and honourable life, 


had conferred upon him an official appointment. At this moment, said Sun, it was 
reported that my wife was close at hand,12 but the Judge, referring to the register, 
observed that her time had not yet come. They told him she had taken no food for 
three days; and then the judge, looking at me, said that as a recompense for her wifely 
virtues I should be permitted to return to life. Thereupon he gave orders to his 
attendants to put to the horses and see me safely back. 

From that hour Sun gradually improved, and the next year went up for his Masters 
degree. All his old companions chaffed him exceedingly before the examination, and 
gave him seven themes on out-of-the-way subjects, telling him privately that they had 
been surreptitiously obtained from the examiners. Sun believed them as usual, and 
worked at them day and night until he was perfect, his comrades all the time enjoying 
a good laugh against him. However, when the day came it was found that the 
examiners, fearing lest the themes they had chosen in an ordinary way should have 
been dishonestly made public,13 took a set of fresh ones quite out of the common 
runin fact, on the very subjects Suns companions had given to him. Consequently, 
he came out at the head of the list; and the next year, after taking his Doctors degree, 
he was entered among the Han-lin Academicians.14 The Emperor, too, happening to 
hear of his curious adventures, sent for him and made him repeat his story; 
subsequently summoning A-pao and making her some very costly presents. [p. 122] 

 

1 There is nothing in China like an aristocracy of birth. Any man may raise himself 
from the lowest level to the highest; and as long as he and his family keep themselves 
there, they may be considered aristocratic. Wealth has nothing to do with the question; 
official rank and literary tastes, separate or combined, these constitute a mans title to 
the esteem of his fellows. Trade is looked upon as ignoble and debasing; and friendly 
intercourse between merchants and officials, the two great social divisions, is so rare 
as to be almost unknown. 

2 The medium, without whose good offices no marriage can be arranged. Generally, 
but not always, a woman. This system of go-betweens is not confined to matrimonial 
engagements. No servant ever offers himself for a place; he invariably employs some 
one to introduce him. So also in mercantile transactions the broker almost invariably 
appears upon the scene. 

3 See No. II., note 1. 

4 The so-called golden lilies always come in for a large share of criticism. See No. 
XII., note 1. This term originated with an emperor who reigned in the fifth century, 
when, in ecstasies at the graceful dancing of a concubine upon a stage ornamented 
with lilies, he cried out, Every footstep makes a lily grow. 

5 A common custom; e.g. in the case of a little child lying dangerously ill, its mother 
will go outside the door into the garden or field, and call out its name several times, in 
the hope of bringing back the wandering spirit. 

6 This process must be regularly gone through night and morning, otherwise the 
bandages become loose, and the gait of the walker unsteady. 


7 I have explained before that any great disparity of means is considered an obstacle 
to a matrimonial alliance between two families. 

8 This is a not unusual arrangement in cases where there are other sons in the 
bridegrooms family, but none in that of the brides, especially if the advantage of 
wealth is on the side of the latter. 

9 Such is the Chinese rule, adopted simply with a view to the preservation of harmony. 

10 They are supposed never to see each other before the wedding-day; but, after 
careful investigation of the subject, I have come to the conclusion that certainly in 
seven cases out of ten, the intended bridegroom secretly procures a sight of his future 
wife. I am now speaking of the higher classes; among the poor, both sexes mix almost 
as freely as with us. 

11 This would still be considered a creditable act on the part of a Chinese widow. It is, 
however, of exceedingly rare occurrence. 

12 Being nearly dead from hanging. 

13 This is occasionally done, great influence or a heavy bribe being brought to bear 
upon the Examiners, of whom there are only two for the Masters degree, and the 
second of these, or Assistant-Examiner, holds but a subordinate position. See No. 
LXXV., note 1. 

14 Admission to the Han-lin College is the highest literary honour obtainable by a 
scholar. Its members are employed in drawing up Government documents, histories, 
&c. 

XXV. JEN HSIU 

JEN CHIEN-CHIH was a native of Y-tai, and a dealer in rugs and furs. One day he 
set off for Shensi, taking with him every penny he could scrape together; and on the 
road he met a man who told him that his name was Shn Chu-ting, and his native 
place Su-chien. These two soon became firm friends, and entered into a masonic 
bond with each other, journeying on together by the same stages until they reached 
their destination. By-and-by Mr. Jen fell sick, and his companion had to nurse him, 
which he did with the utmost attention, but for ten days he gradually got worse and 
worse, and at length said to Shn, My family is very poor. Eight mouths depend 
upon my exertions for food; and now, alas! I am about to die, far from my own home. 
You and I are brothers. At this distance there is no one else to whom I can look. Now 
in my purse you will find two hundred ounces of silver. Take half, and when you have 
defrayed my funeral expenses, use the balance for your return journey; and give the 
other half to my family, that they may be able to send for my coffin.2 If, however, 
you will take my mortal [p. 123] remains with you home to my native place, these 
expenses need not be incurred. He then, with the aid of a pillow, wrote a letter, 
which he handed to Shn, and that evening he died. 

Thereupon Shn purchased a cheap coffin[3] for some five or six ounces of silver; and, 
as the landlord kept urging him to take away the body, he said he would go out and 


seek for a temple where it might be temporarily deposited. But he ran away and never 
went back to the inn; and it was more than a year before Jens family knew what had 
taken place. His son was just about seventeen years of age, and had recently been 
reading with a tutor; but now his books were laid aside, and he proposed to go in 
search of his fathers body. His mother said he was too young; and it was only when 
he declared he would rather not live than stay at home, that with the aid of the pawn-
shop[4] enough money was raised to start him on his way. An old servant 
accompanied him, and it was six months before they returned and performed the last 
ceremonies over Jens remains. 

The family was thus reduced to absolute destitution; but happily young Hsiu was a 
clever fellow, and when the days of mourning[5] were over, took his Bachelors 
degree. On the other hand, he was somewhat wild and very fond of gambling; and 
although his mother strictly prohibited such diversions, [p. 124] all her prohibitions 
were in vain. By-and-by the Grand Examiner arrived, and Hsiu came out in the fourth 
class. His mother was extremely angry, and refused to take food, which brought 
young Hsiu to his senses, and he promised her faithfully he would never gamble again. 
From that day he shut himself up, and the following year took a first-class degree, 
coming out among the senior graduates.6 His mother now advised him to take 
pupils, but his reputation as a disorderly fellow stuck to him, and no one would 
entrust their sons to his care. 

Just than an uncle of his, named Chang, was about to start with merchandise for the 
capital, and recommended that Hsiu should go along with him, promising himself to 
pay all expenses, an offer which Hsiu was only too pleased to accept. When they 
reached Lin-ching, they anchored outside the Custom House, where they found a 
great number of salt-junks, in fact a perfect forest of masts; and what with the noise of 
the water and the people it was quite impossible to sleep. Besides, as the row was 
beginning to subside, the clear rattle of dice from a neighbouring boat fell upon 
Hsius ear, and before long he was itching to be back again at his old games. 
Listening to hear if all around him were sound asleep, he drew forth a string of cash 
that he had brought with him, and thought he would just go across and try his luck. So 
he got up quietly with his money, and was on the point of going, when he suddenly 
recollected his mothers injunctions, and at once tying his purse-strings laid himself 
down to sleep. He was far too excited, however, to close his eyes; and after a while 
got up again and re-opened his purse. This he did three times, until at last it was too 
much for him, and off he went with his money. Crossing over into the boat whence 
the sounds proceeded, he beheld two persons engaged in gambling for high stakes; so 
throwing his money on the table, he begged to be allowed to join. The others readily 
consented, and they began to play, Hsiu winning so rapidly that soon one of the 
strangers had no money left, and was obliged to get the proprietor of the boat to 
change a large piece of silver [p. 125] for him, proceeding to lay down as much as 
several ounces of silver for a single stake. 

As the play was in full swing another man walked in, who after watching for some 
time at length got the proprietor to change another lump of silver for him of one 
hundred ounces in weight, and also asked to be allowed to join. Now Hsius uncle, 
waking up in the middle of the night, and finding his nephew gone, and hearing the 
sound of dice-throwing hard by, knew at once where he was, and immediately 
followed him to the boat with a view of bringing him back. Finding, however, that 


Hsiu was a heavy winner, he said nothing to him, only carrying off a portion of his 
winnings to their own boat and making the others of his party get up and help him to 
fetch the rest, even then leaving behind a large sum for Hsiu to go on with. By-and-by 
the three strangers had lost all their ready money, and there wasnt a farthing left in 
the boat: upon which one of them proposed to play for lumps of silver, but Hsiu said 
he never went so high as that. This made them a little quarrelsome, Hsius uncle all 
the time trying to get him away; and the proprietor of the boat, who had only his own 
commission in view, managed to borrow some hundred strings of cash from another 
boat, and started them all again. Hsiu soon took this out of them; and, as day was 
beginning to dawn and the Custom House was about to open, he went off with his 
winnings back to his own boat. 

The proprietor of the gambling-boat now found that the lumps of silver which he had 
changed for his customers were nothing more than so much tinsel, and rushing off in a 
great state of alarm to Hsius boat, told him what had happened and asked him to 
make it good; but when he discovered he was speaking to the son of his former 
travelling companion, Jen Chien-chih, he hung his head and slunk away covered with 
shame. For the proprietor of that boat was no other than Shn Ghu-ting, of whom 
Hsiu had heard when he was in Shensi; now, however, that with supernatural aid[7] 
the wrongs of his father had been avenged, he determined to pursue the man no 
further. 

So going into partnership with his uncle, they proceeded [p. 126] north together; and 
by the end of the year their capital had increased five-fold. Hsiu then purchased the 
status of chien-shng,8 and by further careful investment of his money ultimately 
became the richest man in that part of the country. 

 

1 Besides the numerous secret societies so much dreaded by the Government, 
membership of which is punishable by death, very intimate friends are in the habit of 
adopting each other as sworn brothers, bound to stand by one another in cases of 
danger and difficulty, to the last drop of blood. The bond is cemented by an oath, 
accompanied by such ceremonies as fancy may at the moment dictate. The most 
curious of all, however, are the so-called Golden Orchid societies, the members of 
which are young girls, who have sworn never to enter into the matrimonial state. To 
such an extent have these sisterhoods spread in the Kuang-tung Province, that the 
authorities have been compelled to prohibit them under severe penalties. 

2 A Chinaman loves to be buried alongside of his ancestors, and poor families are 
often put to great straits to pay this last tribute of respect and affection to the deceased. 
At all large cities are to be found temporary burial grounds, where the bodies of 
strangers are deposited until their relatives can come to carry them away. Large 
freights of dead bodies are annually brought back to China from California, 
Queensland, and other parts to which the Chinese are in the habit of emigrating, to the 
great profit of the steamer companies concerned. Coffins are also used as a means of 
smuggling, respect for the dead being so great that they are only opened under the 
very strongest suspicion. 


3 See No. XIV., note 12. The price of an elaborate Chinese coffin goes as high as 
100 or 150. 

4 The never-failing resource of an impecunious Chinaman who has any property 
whatever bearing an exchange value. The pawn-shop proper is a licensed institution, 
where three per cent per month is charged on all loans, all pledges being redeemable 
within sixteen months. It is generally a very high brick structure, towering far above 
the surrounding houses, with the deposits neatly packed up in paper and arranged on 
the shelves of a huge wooden skeleton-like frame, that completely fills the interior of 
the building, on the top of which are ranged buckets of water in case of fire, and a 
quantity of huge stones to throw down on any thieves who may be daring enough to 
attempt to scale the wall. (In Peking, houses are not allowed to be built above a 
certain height, as during the long summer months ladies are in the habit of sitting to 
spin or sew in their courtyards, very lightly clad.) Pawning goods in China is not held 
to be so disgraceful as with us; in fact, most people, at the beginning of the hot 
weather, pawn their furs and winter clothes, these being so much more carefully 
looked after there than they might be at home. 

5 Nominally of three yearsreally of twenty-eight monthsduration. 

6 These are entitled to receive from Government a small allowance of rice, besides 
being permitted to exercise certain petty functions, for which a certain charge is 
authorised. 

7 One of the strangers was the disembodied spirit of Hsius father, helping his son to 
take vengeance on the wicked Shn. 

8 An intermediate step between the first and second degrees, to which certain 
privileges are attached. 

 

Section 2: Stories 26-57 

 


STRANGE STORIES FROM A CHINESE STUDIO 

by Pu Sung-ling 

 

Section 2 

 

Title Page, Table of Contents, and Introductions 

Section 1: Stories 1-25 

Section 3: Stories 58-103 

Section 4: Stories 104-164 and Appendices 

XXVI. THE LOST BROTHER 

IN Honan there lived a man named Chang, who originally belonged to 
Shantung. His wife had been seized and carried off by the soldiery during 
the period when Ching Nans troops were overrunning the latter province;1 
and as he was frequently in Honan on business, he finally settled there and 
married a Honan wife, by whom he had a son named Na. By-and-by this wife 
died, and he took another, who bore him a son named Chng. The last-
mentioned lady was from the Niu family, and a very malicious woman. So 
jealous was she of Na, that she treated him like a slave or a beast of the field, 
giving him only the coarsest food, and making him cut a large bundle of 
wood every day, in default of which she would beat and abuse him in a most 
shameful manner. On the other hand, she secretly reserved all the tit-bits 
for Chng, and also sent him to school. As Chng grew up, and began to 
understand the meaning of filial piety and fraternal love,2 he could not bear 
to see this treatment of his elder brother, and spoke privately to his mother 
about it; but she would pay no heed to what he said. 

One day, when Na was on the hills performing his task, a violent 
storm came on, and he took shelter under a cliff. However, by the time it was 
over the sun had set, and he began to feel very hungry. So, shouldering his 
bundle, he wended his way home, where his stepmother, displeased with the 
small quantity of wood he had brought, refused [p. 127] to give him anything 
to eat. Quite overcome with hunger, Na went in and lay down; and when 
Chng came back from school, and saw the state he was in, he asked him if 
he was ill. Na replied that he was only hungry, and then told his brother the 
whole story; whereupon Chng coloured up and went away, returning 
shortly with some cakes, which he offered to Na. Where did you get them? 
asked the latter. Oh, replied Chng, I stole some flour and got a 
neighbours wife to make them for me. Eat away, and dont talk. Na ate 
them up; but begged his brother not to do this again, as he might get himself 
into trouble. I shant die, added he, if I only get one meal a day. You are 
not strong, rejoined Chng, and shouldnt cut so much wood as you do. 

Next day, after breakfast, Chng slipped away to the hills, and arrived 
at the place where Na was occupied with his usual task, to the great 
astonishment of the latter, who inquired what he was going to do. To help 
you cut wood, replied Chng. And who sent you? asked his brother. No 
one, said he; I came of my own accord. Ah, cried Na, you cant do this 
work; and even if you can you must not. Run along home again. Chng, 
however, remained, aiding his brother with his hands and feet alone, but 
declaring that on the morrow he would bring an axe. Na tried to stop him, 
and found that he had already hurt his finger and worn his shoes into holes; 


so he began to cry, and said, If you dont go home directly, Ill kill myself 
with my axe. Chng then went away, his brother seeing him half-way home, 
and going back to finish his work by himself. 

He also called in the evening at Chngs school, and told the master 
his brother was a delicate boy, and should not be allowed to go on the hills, 
where, he said, there were fierce tigers and wolves. The master replied that 
he didnt know where Clang had been all the morning, but that he had 
caned him for playing truant. Na further pointed out to Chng that by not 
doing as he had told him, he had let himself in for a beating. Chng laughed, 
and said he hadnt been beaten; and the very next day off he went again, 
and this time with a hatchet. I told you not to come, cried Na, much 
alarmed; why have you done so? 

Chng made no reply, but set to work chopping wood [p. 128] with 
such energy that the perspiration poured down his face; and when he had 
cut about a bundle he went away without saying a word. The master caned 
him again, and then Chng told him how the matter stood, at which the 
former became full of admiration for his pupils kind behaviour, and no 
longer prevented him from going. His brother, however, frequently urged him 
not to come, though without the slightest success; and one day, when they 
went with a number of others to cut wood, a tiger rushed down from the hills 
upon them. The wood-cutters hid themselves, in the greatest consternation; 
and the tiger, seizing Chng, ran off with him in his mouth. Chngs weight 
caused the tiger to move slowly; and Na, rushing after them, hacked away at 
the tigers flanks with his axe. The pain only made the tiger hurry off, and in 
a few minutes they were out of sight. Overwhelmed with grief, Na went back 
to his comrades, who tried to soothe him; but he said, My brother was no 
ordinary brother, and, besides, he died for me; why, then, should I live? 

Here, seizing his hatchet, he made a great chop at his own neck, upon 
which his companions prevented him from doing himself any more mischief. 
The wound, however, was over an inch deep, and blood was flowing so 
copiously that Na became faint, and seemed at the point of death. They then 
tore up their clothes, and, after having bandaged his neck, proceeded to 
carry him home. His stepmother cried bitterly, and cursed him, saying, You 
have killed my son, and now you go and cut your neck in this make-believe 
kind of way. Dont be angry, mother, replied Na; I will not live now that 
my brother is dead. He than threw himself on the bed; but the pain of his 
wound was so great he could not sleep, and day and night he sat leaning 
against the wall in tears. His father, fearing that he too would die, went every 
now and then and gave him a little nourishment; but his wife cursed him so 
for doing it, that at length Na refused all food, and in three days he died. 

Now in the village where these events took place there was a magician 
who was employed in certain devil-work among mortals,3 and Nas ghost, 
happening to fall in [p. 129] with him, related the story of its previous 
sorrows, winding up by asking where his brothers ghost was. The magician 
said he didnt know, but turned round with Na and showed him the way to a 
city where they saw an official servant coming out of the city gates. The 
magician stopped him, and inquired if he could tell them anything about 
Chng; whereupon the man drew out a list from a pouch at his side, and, 
after carefully examining it, replied that among the male and female 
criminals within there was no one of the name of Chang.4 The magician here 
suggested that the name might be on another list; but the man replied that 
he was in charge of that road, and surely ought to know. Na, however, was 


not satisfied, and persuaded the magician to enter the city, where they met 
many new and old devils walking about, among whom were some Na had 
formerly known in life. So he asked them if they could direct him to his 
brother; but none of them knew where he was; and suddenly there was a 
great commotion, the devils on all sides crying out, Pu-sa[5] has come! 
Then, looking up, Na beheld a most beautiful man descending from above, 
encircled by rays of glory, which shot forth above and below, lighting up all 
around him. You are in lucks way, Sir, said the magician to Na; only once 
in many thousand years does Pu-sa descend into hell and banish all 
suffering. He has come today. He then made Na kneel, and all the devils 
began with clasped hands to sing songs of praise to Pu-sa for his 
compassion in releasing them from their misery, shaking the very earth with 
the sound. Pu-sa himself, seizing a willow-branch, sprinkled them all with 
holy water; and when this was done the clouds and glory melted away, and 
he vanished from their sight. Na, who had felt the holy water fall upon his 
neck, now became conscious that the axe-wound was no longer painful; and 
the magician then proceeded to lead him back, not quitting him until within 
sight of the village gate. 

In fact, Na had been in a trance for two days, and when he recovered 
he told them all [p. 130] that he had seen, asserting positively that Chng 
was not dead. His mother, however, looked upon the story as a make-up, 
and never ceased reviling him; and, as he had no means of proving his 
innocence, and his neck was now quite healed, he got up from the bed and 
said to his father, I am going away to seek for my brother throughout the 
universe; if I do not find him, never expect to see me again, but I pray you 
regard me as dead. His father drew him aside and wept bitterly. However, 
he would not interfere with his sons design, and Na accordingly set off. 

Whenever he came to a large town or populous place he used to ask 
for news of Chng; and by-and-by, when his money was all spent, he begged 
his way on foot. A year had passed away before he reached Nanking, and his 
clothes were all in tattersas ragged as a quails tail,6 when suddenly he 
met some ten or a dozen horsemen, and drew away to the roadside. Among 
them was a gentleman of about forty, who appeared to be a mandarin, with 
numerous lusty attendants and fiery steeds accompanying him before and 
behind. One young man on a small palfrey, whom Na took to be the 
mandarins son, and at whom, of course, he did not venture to stare, eyed 
him closely for some time, and at length stopped his steed, and, jumping off, 
cried out, Are you not my brother? Na then raised his head, and found that 
Chng stood before him. Grasping each others hands, the brothers burst 
into tears, and at length Chng said, My brother, how is it you have strayed 
so far as this? Na told him the circumstances, at which he was much 
affected; and Chngs companions, jumping off their horses to see what was 
the matter, went off and informed the mandarin. 

The latter ordered one of them to give up his horse to Na, and thus 
they rode together back to the mandarins house. Chng then told his 
brother how the tiger had carried him away, and how he had been thrown 
down in the road, where he had passed a whole night; also how the 
mandarin, Mr. Chang,7 on his return from the capital, had seen him there, 
and observing that he was no common-looking youth, had set to work and 
brought him round again. Also [p. 131] how he had said to Mr. Chang that 
his home was a great way off, and how Mr. Chang had taken him to his own 
home, and finally cured him of his wounds; when, having no son of his own, 


he had adopted him. And now, happening to be out with his father, he had 
caught sight of his brother. 

As he was speaking Mr. Chang walked in, and Na thanked him very 
heartily for all his kindness; Chng, meanwhile, going into the inner 
apartments to get some clothes for his brother. Wine and food was placed on 
the table; and while they were chatting together the mandarin asked Na 
about the number of their family in Honan. There is only my father, replied 
Na, and he is a Shantung man who came to live in Honan. Why; I am a 
Shantung man too, rejoined Mr. Chang; what is the name of your fathers 
native place? I have heard that it was in the Tung-Chang district, replied 
Na. Then we are from the same place, cried the mandarin. Why did your 
father go away to Honan? His first wife, said Na, was carried off by 
soldiers, and my father lost everything he possessed; so, being in the habit of 
trading to Honan, he determined to settle down there for good. The 
mandarin then asked what his fathers other name was, and when he heard, 
he sat some time staring at Na, and at length hurried away within. 

In a few moments out came an old lady, and when they had all bowed 
to her, she asked Na if he was Chang Ping-chihs grandson. On his replying 
in the affirmative, the old lady wept, and, turning to Mr. Chang, said, These 
two are your younger brothers. And then she explained to Na and Chng as 
follows:Three years after my marriage with your father, I was carried off to 
the north and made a slave[8] in a mandarins family. Six months [p. 132] 
afterwards your elder brother here was born, and in another six months the 
mandarin died. Your elder brother being his heir, he received this 
appointment, which he is now resigning. I have often thought of my native 
place, and have not unfrequently sent people to inquire about my husband, 
giving them the full particulars as to name and clan; but I could never hear 
anything of him. How should I know that he had gone to Honan? 

Then, addressing Mr. Chang, she continued, That was rather a 
mistake of yours, adopting your own brother. He never told me anything 
about Shantung, replied Mr. Chang; I suppose he was too young to 
remember the story. For, in point of age, the elder of the brothers was forty-
one; Chng, the younger, being only sixteen; and Na, twenty years of age. Mr. 
Chang was very glad to get two young brothers; and when he heard the tale 
of their separation, proposed that they should all go back to their father. Mrs. 
Chang was afraid her husband would not care to receive her back again; but 
her eldest son said, We will cast our lot together; all or none. How can there 
be a country where fathers are not valued? 

They then sold their house and packed up, and were soon on the way 
to Honan. When they arrived, Chng went in first to tell his father, whose 
third wife had died since Na left, and who now was a desolate old widower, 
left alone with only his own. shadow. He was overjoyed to see Chng again, 
and, looking fondly at his son, burst into a flood of tears. Chng told him his 
mother and brothers [p. 133] were outside, and the old man was then 
perfectly transfixed with astonishment, unable either to laugh or to cry. Mr. 
Chang next appeared, followed by his mother and the two old people wept in 
each others arms, the late solitary widower hardly knowing what to make of 
the crowd of men and women-servants that suddenly filled his house. Here 
Chng, not seeing his own mother, asked where she was; and when he 
heard she was dead, he fainted away, and did not come round for a good 
half-hour. Mr. Chang found the money for building a fine house, and 
engaged a tutor for his two brothers. Horses pranced in the stables, and 


servants chattered in the hallit was quite a large establishment. 

 

1. A.D. 1400. 

2 The first of the sixteen maxims which form the so-called Sacred 
Edict, embodies these two all-important family ties. The doctrine of 
primogeniture is carried so far in China as to put every younger brother in a 
subordinate position to every elder brother. All property, however, of 
whatever kind, is equally divided among the sons. [The Sacred Edict was 
delivered by the great Emperor Wang Hsi, and should be publicly read and 
explained in every city of the Empire on the first and fifteenth of each month.] 

3 Ordinary devils being unable to stand for any length of time the 
light and life of the upper world, the souls of certain persons are often 
temporarily employed in this work by the authorities of Purgatory, their 
bodies remaining meanwhile in a trance or cataleptic fit. 

4 Their family name. 

5 The Chinese corrupted form of Bodhisatva. Now widely employed to 
designate any deity of any kind. 

6 The usual similitude for a Chinese tatterdemalion. 

7, The surnames Chang, Wang, and Li correspond in China to our 
Brown, Jones, and Robinson. 

8 Slavery, under a modified form, exists in China at the present day. 
All parents, having absolute power over their children, are at liberty to sell 
them as servants or slaves to their wealthier neighbours. This is not an 
infrequent occurrence in times of distress, the children even going so far as 
to voluntarily sell themselves, and exposing themselves in some public 
thoroughfare, with a notice affixed to a kind of arrow on their backs, stating 
that they are for sale, and the amount required from the purchaser. This I 
have seen with my own eyes. The chief source, however, from which the 
supply of slaves is kept up is kidnapping. [See No. XXIII, note 10.] As to the 
condition of the slaves themselves, it is by no means an unhappy one. Their 
master has nominally the power of life and death over them, but no 
Chinaman would ever dream of availing himself of this dangerous 
prerogative. They are generally well fed, and fairly well clothed, being rarely 
beaten, for fear they should run away, and either be lost altogether or entail 
much expense to secure their capture. The girls do not have their feet 
compressed; hence they are infinitely more useful than small-footed women; 
and, on reaching a marriageable age, their masters are bound to provide 
them with husbands. They live on terms of easy familiarity with the whole 
household; and, ignorant of the meaning and value of liberty, seem quite 
contented with a lot which places them beyond the reach of hunger and cold. 
Slaves take the surnames of their masters, and the children of slaves are 
likewise slaves. Manumission is not uncommon; and Chinese history 
furnishes more than one example of a quondam slave attaining to the 
highest offices of State. 

XXVII. THE THREE GENII 

THERE was a certain scholar who, passing through Su-chien on his 
way to Nanking, where he was going to try for his masters degree, happened 
to fall in with three other gentlemen, all graduates like himself, and was so 


charmed with their unusual refinement that he purchased a quantity of wine, 
and begged them to join him in drinking it. While thus pleasantly employed, 
his three friends told him their names. One was Chieh Chiu-heng; the 
second, Chang Feng-lin; and the other, Ma They drank away and enjoyed 
themselves very much, until evening had crept upon them unperceived, 
when Chieh said, Here we, who ought to have been playing the host, have 
been feasting at a strangers expense. This is not right. But, come, my house 
is close by; I will provide you with a bed. Chang and Ma got up, and, taking 
our hero by the arm, bade his servant come along with them. 

When they reached a hill to the north of the village, there before them 
was a house and grounds, with a stream of clear water in front of the door, 
all the apartments within being beautifully clean and nice. Chieh then gave 
orders to light the lamps and see after his visitors servant; whereupon Ma 
observed, Of old it was customary to set intellectual refreshments before 
ones friends; let us not miss the opportunity of this lovely evening, but 
decide on four themes, one for each of us; and then, when we have [p. 134] 
finished our essays, we can set to work on the wine. To this the others 
readily agreed; and each wrote down a theme and threw it on the table. 
These were next divided amongst them as they sat, and before the second 
watch[2] was over the essays were all completed and handed round for 
general inspection; and our scholar was so struck with the elegance and 
vigour of those by his three friends, that he ran off a copy of them and put it 
in his pocket. The host then produced some excellent wine, which was 
drunk by them in such bumpers that soon they were all tolerably tipsy. The 
other two now took their leave; but Chieh led the scholar into another room, 
where, so overcome was he with wine, that he went to bed in his boots and 
clothes. 

The sun was high in the heavens when our hero awaked, and, looking 
round, he saw no house or grounds, only a dell on the hill-side, in which he 
and his servant had been sleeping. In great alarm he called out to the 
servant, who also got up, and then they found a hole with a rill of water 
trickling down before it. Much astonished at all this, he felt in his pocket, 
and there, sure enough, was the paper on which he had copied the three 
essays of his friends. On descending the hill and making inquiries, he found 
that he had been to the Grotto of the Three Geniinamely, Crab, Snake, and 
Frog, three very wonderful beings, who often came out for a stroll, and were 
occasionally visible to mortal eyes. Subsequently, when our hero entered the 
examination hall, lo! the three themes set were those of the Three Genii, and 
he came out at the top of the list. [p. 135] 

 

1 No Chinese wine-party is complete without more or less amusement 
of a literary character. Capping verses, composing impromptu odes on 
persons or places, giving historical and mythological allusions, are among 
the ordinary diversions of this kind. 

2 The Chinese night lasts from 7 P.M. to 5 A.M., and is divided into 
five watches of two hours each, which are subdivided into five beats of the 
watchmans wooden tom-tom. 

XXVIII. THE SINGING FROGS 

WANG TZU-SUN told me that when he was at the capital he saw a 


man in the street who gave the following performance:He had a wooden 
box, divided by partitions into twelve holes, in each of which was a frog; and 
whenever he tapped any one of these frogs on the head with a tiny wand, the 
frog so touched would immediately begin to sing. Some one gave him a piece 
of silver, and then he tapped the frogs all round, just as if he was striking a 
gong; whereupon they all sang together, with their Do, R, Mi, Fa, in perfect 
time and harmony. 

XXIX. THE PERFORMING MICE 

MR. WANG also told me that there was a man at Chang-an who made 
his living by exhibiting performing mice. He had a pouch on his back in 
which he kept some ten of these little animals; and whenever he got among a 
number of people he would fix a little frame on his back, exactly resembling 
a stage. Then beating a drum he would sing some old theatrical melody, at 
the first sounds of which the mice would issue forth from the pouch, and 
then, with masks on their faces, and arrayed in various costumes, they 
would climb up his back on to the stage; where, standing on their hind-legs, 
they would go through a performance portraying the various emotions of joy 
and anger, exactly like human actors of either sex.l 

 

1 The r.les of women are always played in China by men, dressed up 
so perfectly, small feet and all, as to be quite undistinguishable from real 
women. 

XXX. THE TIGER OF CHAO-CHING 

AT Chao-chng there lived an old woman more than seventy years of 
age, who had an only son. One day he went up to the hills and was eaten by 
a tiger, at which [p. 136] his mother was so overwhelmed with grief that she 
hardly wished to live. With tears and lamentations she ran and told her story 
to the magistrate of the place, who laughed and asked her how she thought 
the law could be brought to bear on a tiger. But the old woman would not be 
comforted, and at length the magistrate lost his temper and bade her begone. 
Of this, however, she took no notice; and then the magistrate, in compassion 
for her great age and unwilling to resort to extremities, promised her that he 
would have the tiger arrested. Even then she would not go until the warrant 
had been actually issued so the magistrate, at a loss what to do, asked his 
attendants which of them would undertake the job.1 Upon this one of them, 
Li Nng, who happened to be gloriously drunk, stepped forward and said 
that he would; whereupon the warrant was immediately issued and the old 
woman went away. When our friend, Li Nng, got sober, he was sorry for 
what he had done; but reflecting that the whole thing was a mere trick of his 
masters to get rid of the old womans importunities, did not trouble himself 
much about it, handing in the warrant as if the arrest had been made. Not 
so, cried the magistrate, you [p. 137] said you could do this, and now I 
shall not let you off. 

Nng was at his wits end, and begged that he might be allowed to 
impress the hunters of the district.2 This was conceded; so collecting 
together these men, he proceeded to spend day and night among the hills in 
the hope of catching a tiger, and thus making a show of having fulfilled his 
duty. 


A month passed away, during which he received several hundred 
blows with the bamboo,3 and at length, in despair, he betook himself to the 
Chng-huang temple in the eastern suburb, where, falling on his knees, he 
prayed and wept by turns. By-and-by a tiger walked in, and Li Nng, in a 
great fright, thought he was going to be eaten alive. But the tiger took no 
notice of anything, remaining seated in the doorway. Li Nng then addressed 
the animal as follows:O tiger, if thou didst slay that old womans son, 
suffer me to bind thee with this cord; and, drawing a rope from his pocket, 
threw it over the animals neck. The tiger drooped its ears, and, allowing 
itself to be bound, followed Li Nng to the magistrates office. The latter then 
asked it, saying, Did you eat the old womans son? to which the tiger 
replied by nodding its head; whereupon the magistrate rejoined, That 
murderers should suffer death has ever been the law.4 Besides, this old 
woman had but one son, and by killing him you took from her the sole 
support of her declining years. But if now you will be as a son to her, your 
crime shall be pardoned. The tiger again nodded [p. 138] assent, and 
accordingly the magistrate gave orders that he should be released, at which 
the old woman was highly incensed, thinking that the tiger ought to have 
paid with its life for the destruction of her son. 

Next morning, however, when she opened the door of her cottage, 
there lay a dead deer before it; and the old woman, by selling the flesh and 
skin, was able to purchase food. From that day this became a common event, 
and sometimes the tiger would even bring her money and valuables, so that 
she became quite rich, and was much better cared for than she had been 
even by her own son. Consequently, she became very well-disposed to the 
tiger, which often came and slept in the verandah, remaining for a whole day 
at a time, and giving no cause of fear either to man or beast. 

In a few years the old woman died, upon which the tiger walked in 
and roared its lamentations in the hall. However, with all the money she had 
saved, she was able to have a splendid funeral and while her relatives were 
standing round the grave, out rushed a tiger, and sent them all running 
away in fear. But the tiger merely went up to the mound, and, after roaring 
like a thunder-peal, disappeared again. Then the people of that place built a 
shrine in honour of the Faithful Tiger, and it remains there to this day. 

 

1 All underlings (and we might add overlings) in China being unpaid, 
it behoves them to make what they can out of the opportunities afforded. In 
most yamns, the various warrants and such documents are distributed to 
the runners in turn, who squeeze the victims thus handed over to them. For 
a small bribe they will go back and report Not at home; for a larger one 
Has absconded, and so on. 

Gatekeepers charge a fee on every petition that passes through their 
hands; gaolers, for a consideration and with proper security, allow their 
prisoners to be at large until wanted; clerks take bribes to use their 
influence, honestly or dishonestly, with the magistrate who is to try the case; 
and all the servants share equally in the gratuities given by anyone to whom 
their master may send presents. The amount, whatever it may be, is 
enclosed in a red envelope and addressed to the sender of the present, with 
the words Instead of tea, in large characters; the meaning being that the 
refreshments which should have been set before the servants who brought 
the gifts have been commuted by a money payment. This money is put into a 


general fund and equally divided at stated periods. 

All Government officers holding a post, from the highest to the lowest, 
are entitled to a nominal, and what would be a quite inadequate, salary; but 
no one ever sees this. It is customary fo refuse acceptance of it on some such 
grounds as want of merit, and refund it to the Imperial Treasury. 

2 Anybody is liable to be impressed at any moment for the service of 
the Government. Boat owners, sedan-chair and coolie proprietors especially 
dread the frequent and heavy calls that are made upon them for assistance, 
the remuneration they receive being in all cases insufficient to defray mere 
working expenses. But inasmuch as Chinese officials may not seize any men, 
or boats, or carts, holding passes to show that they are in the employ of a 
foreign merchant, a lively trade in such documents has sprung up in certain 
parts of China between the dishonest of the native and foreign commercial 
circles. 

3 Constables, detectives, and others are liable to be bambooed at 
intervals, generally of three or five days, until the mission on which they are 
engaged has been successfully accomplished. In cases of theft and non-
restoration of the stolen property within a given time, the detectives or 
constables employed may be required to make it good. 

4 Extended by the Chinese to certain cases of simple manslaughter. 

XXXI. A DWARF 

IN the reign of Kang Hsi, there was a magician who carried about 
with him a wooden box, in which he had a dwarf not much more than a foot 
in height. When people gave him money he would open the box and bid the 
little creature come out. The dwarf would then sing a song and go in again. 
Arriving one day at Yeh, the magistrate there seized the box, and taking it 
into his yamen asked the dwarf whence he came. At first he dared not reply, 
but on being pressed told the magistrate everything. He said he belonged to 
a respectable family, and that once when returning home from school he was 
stupefied by the magician, who gave him some drug which made his limbs 
shrink, and then took him about to exhibit to people. The magistrate was 
very angry, and had the [p. 139] magician beheaded, himself taking charge 
of the dwarf. He was subsequently very anxious to get him cured, but unable 
to obtain the proper prescription.l 

 

1 The Cantonese believe the following to be the usual process:
Young children are bought or stolen at a tender age and placed in a ching, 
or vase with a narrow neck, and having in this case a movable bottom. In 
this receptacle the unfortunate little wretches are kept for years in a sitting 
posture, their heads outside; being all the while carefully tended and fed. . . . 
When the child has reached the age of twenty or over, he or she is taken 
away to some distant place and discovered in the woods as a wild man or 
woman.China Mail, May 15, 1878. 

XXXII. HSIANG-JUS MISFORTUNES 

AT Kuang-ping there lived an old man named Feng, who had an only 
son called Hsiang-ju. Both of them were graduates; and the father was very 
particular and strict, though the family had long been poor. Mrs. Feng and 


Hsiang-fus wife had died, one shortly after the other, so that the father and 
son were obliged to do their household work for themselves. 

One night Hsiang-ju was sitting out in the moonlight, when suddenly 
a young lady from next door got on the wall to have a look at him. He saw 
she was very pretty, and as he approached her she began to laugh. He then 
beckoned to her with his hand; but she did not move either to come or to go 
away. At length, however, she accepted his invitation, and descended the 
ladder that he had placed for her. In reply to Hsiang-jus inquiries, the young 
lady said her name was Hung-y, and that she lived next door; so Hsiang-ju, 
who was much taken with her beauty, begged her to come over frequently 
and have a chat. 

To this she readily assented, and continued to do so for several 
months, until one evening old Mr. Feng, hearing sounds of talking and 
laughing in his sons room, got up and looked in. Seeing Miss Hung-y, he 
was exceedingly angry, and called his son out, saying, You good-for-nothing 
fellow poor as we are, why arent you at your books, instead of wasting your 
time like this? A pretty thing for the neighbours to hear of!and even if they 
dont hear of it, somebody else will, and [p. 140] shorten your life 
accordingly. Hsiang-yu fell on his knees, and with tears implored 
forgiveness; whereupon his father turned to the young lady, and said, A girl 
who behaves like this disgraces others as well as herself; and if people find 
this out, we shant be the only ones to suffer. The old man then went back 
to bed in a rage, and Miss Hung-y, weeping bitterly, said to Hsiang-ju, 
Your fathers reproaches have overwhelmed me with shame. Our friendship 
is now at an end. I could say nothing, replied he, as long as my father 
was here; but if you have any consideration for me, I pray you think nothing 
of his remarks. Miss Hung-y protested, however, that they could meet no 
more, and then Hsiang-ju also burst into tears. Do not weep, cried she, 
our friendship was an impossible one, and time must sooner or later have 
put an end to these visits. Meanwhile, I hear there is a very good match to be 
made in the neighbourhood. Hsiang-ju replied that he was poor; but Miss 
Hung-y told him to meet her again the following evening, when she would 
endeavour to do something for him. 

At the appointed time she arrived, and, producing forty ounces of 
silver, presented them to Hsiang-ju; telling him that at a village some 
distance off there was a Miss Wei, eighteen years of age, who was not yet 
married because of the exorbitant demands of her parents, but that a little 
extra outlay would secure for him the young ladys hand. Miss Hung-y then 
bade him farewell, and Hsiang-ju went off to inform his father, expressing a 
desire to go and make inquiries, but saying nothing about the forty ounces. 
His father, thinking that they were not sufficiently well off, urged him not to 
go; however, by dint of argument, he finally persuaded the old man that, at 
any rate, there was no harm in trying. 

So he borrowed horses and attendants, and set off to the house of Mr. 
Wei, who was a man of considerable property; and when he got there he 
asked Mr. Wei to come outside and accord him a few minutes conversation. 
Now the latter knew that Hsiang-ju belonged to a very good family and when 
he saw all the retinue that Hsiang-ju had brought [p. 141] with him, he 
inwardly consented to the match, though he was afraid that perhaps his 
would-be son-in-law might not be as liberal as he would like. Hsiang-ju soon 
perceived what Mr. Weis feelings were, and emptied his purse on the table, 
at which Mr. Wei was delighted, and begged a neighbour to allow the 


marriage contract to be drawn up in his house.2 Hsiang-ju then went in to 
pay his respects to Mrs. Wei, whom he found in a small, miserable room, 
with Miss Wei hiding behind her. Still he was pleased to see that, in spite of 
her homely toilette, the young lady herself was very nice-looking; and, while 
he was being entertained in the neighbours house, the old lady said, It will 
not be necessary for you, Sir, to come and fetch our daughter. As soon as we 
have made up a small trousseau for her, we will send her along to you.3 
Hsiang-ju then agreed with them upon a day for the wedding, and went 
home and informed his father, pretending that the Wei family only asked for 
respectability, and did not care about money. His father was overjoyed to 
hear this; and when the day came, the young lady herself arrived. She 
proved to be a thrifty housekeeper and an obedient wife, so that she and her 
husband got along capitally together. In two years she had a son, who was 
called Fu-rh. And once, on the occasion of the great spring festival, she was 
on her way to the family tombs, with her boy in her arms, when she chanced 
to meet a man named Sung, who was one of the gentry of the neighbourhood. 
This Mr. Sung had been a Censor,4 but had purchased his retirement, and 
was now [p. 142] leading a private life, characterised by many overbearing 
and violent acts. He was returning from his visit to the graves of his 
ancestors when he saw Hsiang-jus wife, and, attracted by her beauty, found 
out who she was; and imagining that, as her husband was a poor scholar, 
he might easily be induced for a consideration to part with the lady, sent one 
of his servants to find out how the land lay. When Hsiang-ju heard what was 
wanted, he was very angry; but, reflecting on the power of his adversary, 
controlled his passion, and passed the thing off with a laugh. His father, 
however, to whom he repeated what had occurred, got into a violent rage, 
and, rushing out, flung his arms about, and called Mr. Sung every name he 
could lay his tongue to. Mr. Sungs emissary slunk off and went home; and 
then a number of men were sent by the enraged Sung, and these burst into 
the house and gave old Feng and his son a most tremendous beating. In the 
middle of the hubbub, Hsiang-jus wife ran in, and, throwing her child down 
on the bed, tore her hair and shrieked for help. Sungs attendants 
immediately surrounded her and carried her off, while there lay her husband 
and his father, wounded on the ground, and the baby squalling on the bed. 
The neighbours, pitying their wretched condition, helped them up on to the 
couches, and by the next day Hsiang-ju could walk with a stick; however, 
his fathers anger was not to be appeased, and, after spitting a quantity of 
blood, he died. 

Hsiang-ju wept: bitterly at this, and taking his child in his arms, used 
every means to bring the offenders to justice, but without the slightest 
success. He then heard that his wife had put an end to her own existence, 
and with this his cup of misery was full. Unable to get his wrongs redressed, 
he often meditated assassinating Sung in the open street,5 but was deterred 
from attempting this by the number of his retainers and the fear of leaving 
his son with no one to protect him. 

Day and night he mourned [p. 143] over his lot, and his eyelids were 
never closed in sleep, when suddenly in walked a personage of striking 
appearance to condole with him on his losses. The strangers face was 
covered with a huge curly beard; and Hsiang-ju, not knowing who he was, 
begged him to take a seat, and was about to ask whence he came, when all 
at once he began, Sir! have you forgotten your fathers death, your wifes 
disgrace? Thereupon Hsiang-ju, suspecting him to be a spy from the Sung 
family, made some evasive reply, which so irritated the stranger that he 


roared out, I thought you were a man; but now I know that you are a 
worthless, contemptible wretch. Hsiang-ju fell on his knees and implored 
the stranger to forgive him, saying, I was afraid it was a trick of Sungs: I 
will speak frankly to you. For days I have lain, as it were, upon thorns, my 
mouth filled with gall, restrained only by pity for this little one and fear of 
breaking our ancestral line. Generous friend, will you take care of my child if 
I fall? That, replied the stranger, is the business of women; I cannot 
undertake it. But what you wish others to do for you, do yourself; and that 
which you would do yourself, I will do for you. When Hsiang-ju heard these 
words he knocked his head upon the ground; but the stranger took no more 
notice of him, and walked out. Following him to the door, Hsiang-ju asked 
his name, to which he replied, If I cannot help you I shall not wish to have 
your reproaches; if I do help you, I shall not wish to have your gratitude. 
The stranger then disappeared, and Hsiang-1u, having a presentiment that 
some misfortune was about to happen, fled away with his child. [p. 144] 

When night came, and the members of the Sung family were wrapped 
in sleep, some one found his way into their house and slew the ex-Censor 
and his two sons, besides a maid-servant and one of the ladies. Information 
was at once given to the authorities; and as the Sung family had no doubt 
that the murderer was Hsiang-ju, the magistrate, who was greatly alarmed,6 
sent out lictors to arrest him. Hsiang-ju, however, was nowhere to be found, 
a fact which tended to confirm the suspicions of the Sung family and they, 
too, despatched a number of servants to aid the mandarin in effecting his 
capture. Towards evening the lictors and others reached a hill, and, hearing 
a child cry, made for the sound, and thus secured the object of their search, 
whom they bound and led away. As the child went on crying louder than 
ever, they took it from him and threw it down by the wayside, thereby nearly 
causing Hsiang-ju to die of grief and rage. On being brought before the 
magistrate he was asked why he had killed these people; to which he replied 
that he was falsely accused, For, said he, they died in the night, whereas I 
had gone away in the daytime. Besides, added he, how, with a crying baby 
in my arms, could I scale walls and kill people? If you didnt kill people, 
cried the magistrate, why did you run away? Hsiang had no answer to 
make to this, and he was accordingly ordered to prison; whereupon he wept 
and said, I can die without regret; but what has my child done that he, too, 
should be punished? You, replied the magistrate, have slain the children 
of others; how can you complain if your child meets the same fate? 

Hsiang-ju was then stripped of his degree7 and subjected to all kinds 
of indignities, but they were unable to wring a confession from his lips;8 and 
that very night, as the magistrate lay down, he heard a sharp noise of 
something striking the bed, and, jumping up in a fright, found, by the light 
of a candle, a small, keen blade sticking in the wood at the head of his couch 
so tightly that it could not be drawn out. Terribly alarmed at this, the 
magistrate [p. 145] walked round the room with a spear over his shoulder, 
but without finding anything; and then, reflecting that nothing more was to 
be feared from Sung, who was dead, as well as his two sons, he laid Hsiang-j 
us case before the higher authorities, and obtained for him an acquittal: 
Hsiang-ju was released and went home. 

His cupboard, however, was empty, and there was nothing except his 
own shadow within the four walls of his house. Happily, his neighbours took 
pity on him and supplied him with food and whenever he thought upon the 
vengeance that had been wreaked, his countenance assumed an expression 


of joy; but as often as his misfortunes and the extinction of his family came 
into his mind, his tears would begin to flow. And when he remembered the 
poverty of his life and the end of his ancestral line, he would seek out some 
solitary spot, and there burst into an ungovernable fit of grief. 

Thus things went on for about six months, when the search after the 
murderer began to be relaxed; and then Hsiang-ju petitioned for the recovery 
of his wifes bones, which he took home with him and buried. His sorrows 
made him wish to die, and he lay tossing about on the bed without any 
object in life, when suddenly he heard somebody knock at the door. Keeping 
quiet to listen, he distinguished the sound of a voice outside talking with a 
child; and, getting up to look, he perceived a young lady, who said to him, 
Your great wrongs are all redressed, and now, luckily, you have nothing to 
ail you. The voice seemed familiar to him, but he could not at the moment 
recall where he had heard it; so he lighted a candle, and Miss Hung-y stood 
before him. She was leading a small, happy-looking child by the hand; and 
after she and Hsiang-ju had expressed their mutual satisfaction at meeting 
once more, Miss Hung-y pushed the boy forward, saying, Have you 
forgotten your father? The boy clung to her dress, and looked shyly at 
Hsiang-ju, who, on examining him closely, found that he was Fu-rh. 
Where did he come from? asked his father, in astonishment, not 
unmingled with tears. I will tell you all, replied Miss Hung-y. I was only 
deceiving you when I said I belonged to a neighbouring family. I am really a 
fox, and, happening to go out one evening, I heard a child crying in a ditch. 
[p. 146] I took him home and brought him up; and, now that your troubles 
are over, I return him to you, that father and son may be together. Hsiang-
ju wiped away his tears and thanked her heartily; but Fu-rh kept close to 
Miss Hung-y, whom he had come to regard as a mother, and did not seem 
to recognise his father again. 

Before daybreak Miss Hung-y said she must go away; but Hsiang-y 
fell upon his knees and entreated her to stop, until at, last she said she was 
only joking, adding that, in a new establishment like theirs, it would be a 
case of early to rise and late to bed. She then set to work cutting fuel and 
sweeping up, toiling hard as if she had been a man, which made Hsiang-ju 
regret that he was too poor to have all this done for her. However, she bade 
him mind his books, and not trouble himself about the state of their affairs, 
as they were not likely to die of hunger. She also produced some money, and 
bought implements for spinning, besides renting a few acres of land and 
hiring labourers to till them. Day by day she would shoulder her hoe and 
work in the fields, or employ herself in mending the roof, so that her fame as 
a good wife spread abroad, and the neighbours were more than ever pleased 
to help them. In half-a-years time their home was like that of a well-to-do 
family, with plenty of servants about; but one day Hsiang-ju said to Miss 
Hung-y, With all that you have accomplished on my behalf, there is still 
one thing left undone. On her asking him what it was, he continued:The 
examination for masters degree is at hand, and I have not yet recovered the 
bachelors degree of which I was stripped. Ah, replied she, some time 
back I had your name replaced upon the list; had I waited for you to tell me, 
it would have been too late. Hsiang-ju marvelled very much at this, and 
accordingly took his masters degree. He was then thirty-six years of age, the 
master of broad lands and fine houses; and Miss Hung-y, who looked 
delicate enough to be blown away by the wind, and yet worked harder than 
an ordinary labourers wife, keeping her hands smooth and nice in spite of 
winter weather, gave herself out to be thirty-eight, though no one took her to 


be much more than twenty. [p. 147] 

 

1 Meaning that it would become known to the Arbiter of life and death 
in the world below, who would punish him by shortening his appointed term 
of years. See The Wei-chi Devil, No. CXXXI. 

2 One important preliminary consists in the exchange of the four 
pairs of characters which denote the year, month, day, and hour of the 
births of the contracting parties. It remains for a geomancer to determine 
whether these are in harmony or not; and a very simple expedient for 
backing out of a proposed alliance is to bribe him to declare that the 
nativities of the young couple could not be happily brought together. 

3 The bridegroom invariably fetches the bride from her fathers house, 
conveying her to his home in a handsomely-gilt red sedan-chair, closed in on 
all sides, and accompanied by a band of music. 

4 The Censorate is a body of fifty-six officials, whose duty it is to bring 
matters to the notice of the Emperor which might otherwise have escaped 
attention; to take exception to any acts, including those of his Majesty 
himself, calculated to interfere with the welfare of the people; and to impeach, 
as occasion may require, the high provincial authorities, whose position, but 
for this wholesome check, would be almost unassailable. Censors are 
popularly termed the ears and eyes of the monarch. 

5 In the Book of Rites (I. Pt. i. v. 10), which dates, in its present form, 
only from the first century B.C., occurs this passage With the slayer of his 
father, a man may not live under the same heaven; and in the Family 
Sayings (Bk. X. ab init.), a work which professes, though on quite 
insufficient authority, to record a number of the conversations and 
apophthegms of Confucius not given in the Lun-y, or Confucian Gospels, 
we find the following course laid down for a man whose father has been 
murdered:He must sleep upon a grass mat, with his shield for his pillow; 
he must decline to take office; he must not live under the same heaven (with 
the murderer). When he meets him in the court or in the market-place, he 
must not return for a weapon, but engage him there and then; being always 
careful, as the commentator observes, to carry a weapon about with him. Sir 
John Davis and Dr. Legge agree in stigmatising this as one of the 
objectionable principles of Confucius. It must, however, be admitted that (1) 
a patched-up work which appeared as we have it now from two to three 
centuries after Confuciuss death, and (2) a confessedly apocryphal work 
such as the Family Sayings, are hardly sufficient grounds for affixing to the 
fair fame of Chinas great Sage the positive inculcation of a dangerous 
principle of blood-vengeance like that I have just quoted. 

6 The Chinese theory being that every official is responsible for the 
peace and well-being of the district committed to his charge, and even liable 
to punishment for occurrences over which he could not possibly have had 
any control. 

7 See No. X., note 3. 

8 See No. X., note 6. 

XXXIII. CHANGS TRANSFORMATION 

CHANG YU-TAN, of Chao-yan, was a wild fellow, who pursued his 


studies at the Hsiao temple. Now it chanced that the magistrate of the 
district, Mr. Tsng of San-han, had a daughter who was very fond of hunting, 
and that one day young Chang met her in the fields, and was much struck 
with her great beauty. She was dressed in an embroidered sable jacket, and 
rode about on a small palfrey, for all the world like a girl in a picture. 

Chang went home with the young lady still in his thoughts, his heart 
being deeply touched; but he soon after heard, to his infinite sorrow and 
dismay, that Miss Tsng had died suddenly. Their own home being at a 
distance,l her father deposited the coffin in a temple;2 the very temple, in 
fact, where her lover was residing. Accordingly Chang paid to her remains 
the same respect he would have offered to a god; he burnt incense every 
morning, and poured out libations at every meal, always accompanied by the 
following invocation:I had hardly seen you when your spirit became ever 
present to me in my dreams. But you passed suddenly away; and now, near 
as we are together, we are as far apart as if separated by hills and rivers. 
Alas! alas! In life you were under the control of your parents; now, however, 
there is nothing to restrain you, and with your supernatural power, I should 
be hearing the rustle of your robe as you approach to ease the sorrow of my 
heart. 

Day and night he prayed thus, and when some six months had 
passed away, and he was one night trimming his lamp to read, he raised his 
head and saw a young lady standing, all smiles, before him. Rising up, he 
inquired who she was; to which his visitor replied, Grateful to you for your 
love of me, I was unable to resist the temptation of coming to thank you 
myself. Chang then offered her a seat, and they sat together chatting for 
some time. 

From this date the young lady used to come in every evening, and on 
one occasion said to Chang, I was formerly very fond of riding and archery, 
shooting the musk and slaying the deer; my crime is so great that I can find 
no repose in death. If you have any friendly feelings towards me, I pray you 
recite for [p. 148] me the Diamond sutra[3] five thousand and forty-eight 
times, and I will never forget your kindness. Chang did as he was asked, 
getting up every night and telling his beads before the coffin, until the 
occasion of a certain festival, when he wished to go home to his parents, and 
take the young lady with him. Miss Tsng said she was afraid her feet were 
too tender to walk far; but Chang offered to carry her, to which she 
laughingly assented. It was just like carrying a child, she was so light;4 and 
by degrees Chang got so accustomed to taking her about with him, that 
when he went up for his examination she went in too.5 The only thing was 
she could not travel except at night. 

Later on, Chang would have gone up for his masters degree, but the 
young lady told him it was of no use to try, for it was not destined that he 
should pass; and accordingly he desisted from his intention. 

Four or five years afterwards, Miss Tsngs father resigned his 
appointment, and so poor was he that he could not afford to pay for the 
removal of his daughters coffin, but wanted to bury it economically where it 
was. Unfortunately, he had no ground of his own, and then Chang came 
forward and said that a friend of his had a piece of waste land near the 
temple, and that he might bury it there. Mr. Tsng was very glad to accept, 
and Chang kindly assisted him with the funeral,for what reason the former 
was quite unable to guess. 


One night after this, as Miss Tsng was sitting by Changs side, her 
father having already returned home, she burst into a flood of tears, and 
said, For five years we have been good friends; we must now part. I can 
never repay your goodness to me. Chang was alarmed, and asked her what 
she meant; to which she replied, Your sympathy has told for me in the 
realms below. The sum of my sutras is complete, and today I am to be born 
again in the family of a high official, Mr. Lu, of Ho-pei. If you do not forget 
the present time, meet me there in fifteen years from now, on the 16th of the 
8th moon. Alas! cried Chang, [p. 149] I am already over thirty, and in 
fifteen years more I shall be drawing near the wood.6 What good will our 
meeting do? I can be your servant, replied Miss Tsng, and so make some 
return to you. But come, escort me a few miles on my way; the road is beset 
with brambles, and I shall have some trouble with my dress. So Chang 
carried her as before, until they reached a high road, where they found a 
number of carriages and horses, the latter with one or two riders on the 
backs of each, and three or four, or even more persons, in every carriage. 
But there was one richly-decorated carriage, with embroidered curtains and 
red awnings, in which sat only one old woman, who, when she saw Miss 
Tsng, called out, Ah, there you are. Here I am, replied Miss Tsng; and 
then she turned to Chang and said, We must part here; do not forget what I 
told you. Chang promised he would remember; and then the old woman 
helped her up into the carriage, round went the wheels, off went the 
attendants, and they were gone. 

Sorrowfully Chang wended his way home, and there wrote upon the 
wall the date mentioned by Miss Tsng; after which, bethinking himself of 
the efficacy of prayer, he took to reciting sutras more energetically than ever. 
By-and-by he dreamed that an angel appeared to him, and said, The bent of 
your mind is excellent indeed, but you must visit the Southern Sea.7 
Asking how far off the Southern Sea was, the angel informed him it was 
close by; and then waking up, and understanding what was required of him, 
he fixed his sole thoughts on Buddha, and lived a purer life than before. 

In three years time his two sons, Ming and Chng, came out very 
high on the list at the examination for the second degree, in spite of which 
worldly successes Chang continued to lead his usual holy life. 

Then one night he dreamed that another angel led him among 
beautiful halls and palaces, where he saw a personage sitting down who 
resembled Buddha himself. This personage said to him, My son, your virtue 
is a matter of great joy; unhappily your term of life is short, [p. 150] and I 
have, therefore, made an appeal to God[8] on your behalf. Chang prostrated 
himself, and knocked his head upon the ground; upon which he was 
commanded to rise, and was served with tea, fragrant as the epidendrum. A 
boy was next instructed to take him to bathe in a pool, the water of which 
was so exquisitely clear that he could count the fishes swimming about 
therein. He found it warm as he walked in, and scented like the leaves of the 
lotus-flower; and gradually the water got deeper and deeper, until he went 
down altogether and passed through with his head under water. 

He then waked up in a fright; but from this moment he became more 
robust and his sight improved. As he stroked his beard the white hairs all 
came out, and by-and-by the black ones too; the wrinkles on his face were 
smoothed away, and in a few months he had the beardless face of a boy of 
fifteen or sixteen. He also grew very fond of playing about like other boys, 
and would sometimes tumble head over heels, and be picked up by his sons. 


Soon afterwards his wife died of old age, and his sons begged him to 
marry again into some good family; but he said he should be obliged to go to 
Ho-pei first; and then, calculating his dates, found that the appointed time 
had arrived. So he ordered his horses and servants, and set off for Ho-pei, 
where he discovered that there actually was a high official named Lu. Now 
Mr. Lu had a daughter, who when born was able to talk,9 and became very 
clever and beautiful as she grew up. She was the idol of her parents, and 
had been asked in marriage by many suitors, but would not accept any of 
them; and when her father and mother inquired her motives for refusal, she 
told them the story of of her engagement in her former life. Silly child, said 
they, reckoning up the time, and laughing at her; that Mr. Chang would 
now be about fifty years of age, a changed and feeble old man. Even if he is 
still alive, his hair will be white and his teeth gone. But their daughter 
would not listen to them; and, finding her so obstinate in her determination, 
they instructed the doorkeeper to admit no strangers until the appointed 
time should have passed, [p. 151] that thus her expectations might be 
brought to naught. 

Before long, Chang arrived, but the doorkeeper would not let him in, 
and he went back to his inn in great distress, not knowing what to do. He 
then took to walking about the fields, and secretly making inquiries 
concerning the family. Meanwhile Miss Tsng thought that he had broken 
his engagement, and refused all food, giving herself up to tears alone. Her 
mother argued that he was probably dead, or in any case that the breach of 
engagement was no fault of her daughters; to none of which, however, 
would Miss Tsng listen, lying where she was the livelong day. Mr. Lu now 
became anxious about her, and determined to see what manner of man this 
Chang might be; so, on the plea of taking a walk, he went out to meet him in 
the fields, and to his astonishment found quite a young man. They sat down 
together on some leaves, and after chatting awhile Mr. Lu was so charmed 
with his young friends bearing that he invited him to his house. No sooner 
had they arrived, than Mr. Lu begged Chang to excuse him a moment, and 
ran in first to tell his daughter, who exerted herself to get up and take a peep 
at the stranger. Finding, however, that he was not the Chang she had 
formerly known, she burst into tears and crept back to bed, upbraiding her 
parents for trying to deceive her thus. Her father declared he was no other 
than Chang, but his daughter replied only with tears; and then he went back 
very much upset to his guest, whom he treated with great want of courtesy. 
Chang asked him if he was not the Mr. Lu, of such and such a position, to 
which he replied in a vacant kind of way that he was, looking the other way 
all the time and paying no attention to Chang. The latter did not approve of 
this behaviour, and accordingly took his leave; and in a few days Miss Tsng 
had cried herself to death. 

Chang than dreamed that she appeared to him, and said, Was it you 
after all that I saw? You were so changed in age and appearance that when I 
looked upon your face I did not know you. I have already died from grief; but 
if you make haste to the little street shrine and summon my spirit back, I 
may still recover. Be not late! Chang then waked, and immediately made 
inquiries at Mr. Lus house, when he found that the young lady had been 
dead two days. [p. 152] 

Telling her father his dream, they went forth to summon the spirit 
back; and on opening the shroud, and throwing themselves with 
lamentations over the corpse, a noise was heard in the young ladys throat, 


and her cherry lips parted. They moved her on to a bed, and soon she began 
to moan, to the great joy of Mr. Lu, who took Chang out of the room and, 
over a bumper of wine, asked some questions about his family. He was glad 
to find that Chang was a suitable match for his daughter, and an auspicious 
day was fixed for the wedding. In a fortnight the event came off, the bride 
being escorted to Changs house by her father, who remained with them six 
months before going home again. They were a youthful pair, and people who 
didnt know the story mistook Changs son and daughter-in-law for his 
father and mother. 

A year later Mr. Lu died; and his son, a mere child, having been badly 
wounded by some scoundrels, and the family property being almost gone, 
Chang made him come and live with them, and be one of their own family. 

 

1 No man being allowed to hold office in his own province. 

2 This is a very common custom all over China. 

3 Of all the Buddhist sutras, this is perhaps the favourite with the 
Chinese. 

4 Contrary to the German notion that the spirit of the dead mother, 
coming back at night to suckle the child she has left behind, makes an 
impress on the bed alongside the baby. 

5 Being, of course, invisible to all except himself. 

6 A very ancient expression signifying the grave, the word wood 
being used by synecdoche for coffin. 

7 The supposed residence of Kuan-yin, the Chinese Goddess of Mercy, 
she who hears prayers, and is the giver of children. 

8 The great Supreme Ruler, who is supposed to have absolute sway 
over the various other deities of the Chinese Pantheon. 

9 Generally spoken of as an inauspicious phenomenon. 

XXXIV. A TAOIST PRIEST 

ONCE upon a time there was a Mr. Han, who belonged to a wealthy 
family, and was fond of entertaining people. A man named Hs, of the same 
town, frequently joined him over the bottle; and on one occasion when they 
were together a Taoist priest came to the door with his alms-bowl[1] in his 
hand. The servants threw him some money and food, but the priest would 
not accept them, neither would he go away; and at length they would take 
no more notice of him. Mr. Han heard the noise of the priest knocking his 
bowl[2] going on for a long time, and asked his [p. 153] servants what was 
the matter; and they had hardly told him when the priest himself walked in. 
Mr. Han begged him to be seated; whereupon the priest bowed to both 
gentlemen and took his seat. On making the usual inquiries, they found that 
he lived at an old tumbledown temple to the east of the town, and Mr. Han 
expressed regret at not having heard sooner of his arrival, so that he might 
have shown him the proper hospitality of a resident. The priest said that he 
had only recently arrived, and had no friends in the place; but hearing that 
Mr. Han was a jovial fellow, he had been very anxious to take a glass with 
him. Mr. Han then ordered wine, and the priest soon distinguished himself 
as a hard drinker; Mr. Hs treating him all the time with a certain amount of 


disrespect in consequence of his shabby appearance, while Mr. Han made 
allowances for him as being a traveller. When he had drunk over twenty 
large cups of wine, the priest took his leave, returning subsequently 
whenever any jollification was going on, no matter whether it was eating or 
drinking. 

Even Han began now to tire a little of him; and on one occasion Hs 
said to him in raillery, Good priest, you seem to like being a guest; why 
dont you play the host sometimes for a change? Ah, replied the priest, I 
am much the same as yourselfa mouth carried between a couple of 
shoulders.3 This put Hs to shame, and he had no answer to make; so the 
priest continued, But although that is so, I have been revolving the question 
with myself for some time, and when we do meet I shall do my best to repay 
your kindness with a cup of my own poor wine. When they had finished 
drinking, the priest said he hoped he should have the pleasure of their 
company the following day at noon; and at the appointed time the two 
friends went together, not expecting, however, to find anything ready for 
them. 

But the priest was waiting for them in the street; and passing through 
a handsome courtyard, they beheld long suites of elegant apartments 
stretching away before them. In great astonishment, [p. 154] they remarked 
to the priest that they had not visited this temple for some time, and asked 
when it had been thus repaired; to which he replied that the work had been 
only lately completed. 

They then went inside, and there was a magnificently-decorated 
apartment, such as would not be found even in the houses of the wealthy. 
This made them begin to feel more respect for their host; and no sooner had 
they sat down than wine and food were served by a number of boys, all 
about sixteen years of age, and dressed in embroidered coats, with red shoes. 
The wine and eatables were delicious, and very nicely served; and when the 
dinner was taken away, a course of rare fruits was put on the table, the 
names of all of which it would be impossible to mention. They were arranged 
in dishes of crystal and jade, the brilliancy of which lighted up the 
surrounding furniture; and the goblets in which the wine was poured were of 
glass,4 and more than a foot in circumference. The priest here cried out, 
Call the Shih sisters, whereupon one of the boys went out and in a few 
moments two elegant young ladies walked in. The first was tall and slim like 
a willow wand; the other was short and very young, both being exceedingly 
pretty girls. Being told to sing while the company were drinking, the younger 
beat time and sang a song, while the elder accompanied her on the flageolet. 
They acquitted themselves admirably; and, when the song was over, the 
priest, holding his goblet bottom upwards in the air, challenged his guests to 
follow his example, bidding his servants pour out more wine all round. He 
then turned to the girls, and remarked that they had not danced for a long 
time, asking if they were still able to do so; upon which a carpet was spread 
by one of the boys, and the two young ladies proceeded to dance, their long 
robes waving about and perfuming the air around. The dance concluded, 
they leant against a painted screen, while the two guests gradually became 
more and more confused, and were at last irrecoverably drunk. 

The priest took no notice of them; but when he had finished drinking, 
he got up and said, Pray, go on with your wine; I am going to rest awhile, 
and will return by-and-by. He then went away, and lay down on a splendid 
couch at the other [p. 155] end of the room; at which Hs was very angry, 


and shouted out, Priest, you are a rude fellow, at the same time making 
towards him with a view of rousing him up. The priest then ran out, and 
Han and Hs- lay down to sleep, one at each end of the room, on 
elaborately-carved couches covered with beautiful mattresses. When they 
woke up, they found themselves lying in the road, Mr. Hs with his head in 
a dirty drain. Hard by were a couple of rush huts; but everything else was 
gone. 

 

1 This is the Buddhist patra, which modern writers have come to 
regard as an instrumental part of the Taoist religion. See No. IV., note 1. 

2 To call attention to his presence. Beggars in China accomplish their 
purpose more effectually by beating a gong in the shop where they ask for 
alms so loudly as to prevent the shopkeeper from hearing his customers 
speak; or they vary the performance by swinging about some dead animal 
tied to the end of a stick. Mendicity not being prohibited in China, there 
results a system of blackmail payable by every householder to a beggars 
guild, and this frees them from the visits of the beggars of their own 
particular district; many, however, do not subscribe, but take their chance 
in the struggle as to who will tire out the other first, the shopkeeper, who 
has all to lose, being careful to stop short of anything like manual violence, 
which would forthwith bring down upon him the myrmidons of the law, and 
subject him to innumerable squeezes. 

3 Sc. a sponge. 

4 First manufactured in China A.D. 424. The term here used (po-li) 
occurs as early as A.D. 643, and is of foreign origin. 

XXXV. THE FIGHT WITH THE FOXES 

IN the province of Chih-li, there was a wealthy family in want of a 
tutor. One day a graduate presented himself at the door, and was asked by 
the master of the house to walk in; and he conversed so pleasantly that in a 
short time it was clear to both sides that they were mutually pleased with 
each other. The tutor said his name was Hu; and when the usual present 
had been made to him, he was forthwith provided with apartments, and 
entered very energetically upon his duties, proving himself a scholar of no 
mean order. 

He was, however, very fond of roaming, and generally came back in 
the middle of the night, not troubling himself to knock if the door was locked, 
but suddenly appearing on the inside. It was therefore suspected that he 
was a fox, though as his intentions seemed to be harmless, he was treated 
extremely well, and not with any want of courtesy as if he had been 
something uncanny. By-and-by he discovered that his master had a 
daughter,l and being desirous of securing the match was always dropping 
hints to that effect, which his master, on the other hand, invariably 
pretended not to understand. 

One day he went off for a holiday, and on the next day a stranger 
called; who, tying a black mule at the door, accepted the invitation of the 
master to take a seat within. He was about fifty years of age, very neat and 
clean in his dress, and gentlemanly in his manners. When they were seated, 
the stranger began by saying that he was come with [p. 156] proposals of 


marriage on behalf of Mr. Hu; to which his host, after some consideration, 
replied that he and Mr. Hu got along excellently well as friends, and there 
was no object in bringing about a closer connection. Besides, added he, 
my daughter is already betrothed, and I beg you, therefore, to ask Mr. Hu to 
excuse me. The stranger said he was quite sure the young lady was not 
engaged, and inquired what might be the objection to the match: but it was 
all of no avail, until at length he remarked, Mr. Hu is of a good family; I see 
no reason why you should have such an aversion to him. Well, then, 
replied the other, I will tell you what it is. We dont like his species. The 
stranger here got very angry, and his host also lost his temper, so that they 
came to high words, and were already on the way to blows, when the latter 
bade his servants give the stranger a beating and turn him out. 

The stranger then retired, leaving his mule behind him; and when 
they drew near to look at it they found a huge creature with black hair, 
drooping ears, and a long tail. They tried to lead it away, but it would not 
move; and on giving it a shove with the hand from behind, it toppled over 
and was discovered to be only of straw. 

In consequence of the angry words that had been said, the master of 
the house felt sure that there would be an attempt at revenge, and 
accordingly made all preparations; and sure enough the next day a whole 
host of fox-soldiers arrived, some on horseback, some on foot, some with 
spears, and others with cross-bows, men and horses trampling along with 
an indescribable din. The family were afraid to leave the house, and the 
foxes shouted out to set the place on fire, at which the inmates were 
dreadfully alarmed; but just then one of the bravest of them rushed forth 
with a number of the servants to engage the foxes. Stones and arrows flew 
about in all directions, and many on both sides were wounded; at length, 
however, the foxes drew off, leaving their swords on the field. These glittered 
like frost or snow, but when picked up turned out to be only millet-stalks. 
Is this all their cunning? cried their adversary, laughing, at the same time 
making still more careful preparations in case the foxes should come again. 

Next day they were deliberating together, when suddenly a giant 
descended upon them from the sky. He was over ten feet in height [p. 157] 
by several feet in breadth, and brandished a sword as broad as half a door; 
but they attacked him so vigorously with arrows and stones that he was 
soon stretched dead upon the ground, when they saw that he was made of 
grass. 

Our friends now began to make light of their fox-foes, and as they saw 
nothing more of them for three days their precautions were somewhat 
relaxed. The foxes, however, soon reappeared, armed with bows and arrows, 
and succeeded in shooting the master of the house in the back, disappearing 
when he summoned his servants and proceeded to attack them. Then, 
drawing the arrow from his back, he found it was a long thorn; and thus the 
foxes went on for a month or so, coming and going, and making it necessary 
to take precautions, though not really inflicting any serious injury. 

This annoyed the master of the family very much, until one day Mr. 
Hu[2] himself appeared with a troop of soldiers at his back, and he 
immediately went out to meet him. Mr. Hu withdrew among his men, but the 
master called to him to come forth, and then asked him what he had done 
that soldiers should be thus brought against his family. The foxes were now 
on the point of discharging their arrows; Mr. Hu, however, stopped them; 


whereupon he and his old master shook hands, and the latter invited him to 
walk into his old room. 

Wine being served, his host observed, You, Mr. Hu, are a man of 
intelligence, and I trust you will make allowances for me. Friends as we were, 
I should naturally have been glad to form a connection with you; your 
carriages, however, horses, houses, &c., are not those of ordinary mortals; 
and even had my daughter consented, you must know the thing would have 
been impossible, she being still a great deal too young. Mr. Hu was 
somewhat disconcerted at this, but his host continued, Its of no 
consequence; we can still be friends as before, and if you do not despise us 
earthly creatures, there is my son whom you have taught; he is fifteen years 
old, and I should be proud to see him connected with you if such an 
arrangement should be feasible. Mr. Hu was delighted, and said, I have a 
daughter one year younger than your son; she is neither ugly nor stupid. 
How would she do? His host got up and made a low [p. 158] bow, which Mr. 
Hu forthwith returned, and they then became the best of friends, forgetting 
all about the former unpleasantness. Wine was given to Mr. Hus attendants, 
and everyone was made happy. The host now inquired where Mr. Hu lived, 
that the ceremony of pouring out a libation to the geese[3] might be 
performed; but Mr. Hu said this would not be necessary, and remained 
drinking till night, when he went away again. 

From this time there was no more trouble and a year passed without 
any news of Mr. Hu, so that it seemed as if he wished to get out of his 
bargain. The family, however, went on waiting, and in months more Mr. Hu 
reappeared, when, after a few general remarks, he declared that his 
daughter was ready, and requested that an auspicious day might be fixed for 
her to come to her husbands home. This being arranged, the young lady 
arrived with a retinue of sedan-chairs, and horses, and a beautiful 
trousseau that nearly filled a room.4 She was unusually respectful to her 
father and mother-in-law, and the former was much pleased with the match. 
Her father and a younger brother of his had escorted her to the house, and 
conversing away in a most refined style they sat drinking till daybreak before 
they went away. The bride herself had the gift of foreknowing whether the 
harvest would be good or bad, and her advice was always taken in such 
matters. Mr. Hu and his brother, and also their mother, often came to visit 
her in her new home, and were then very frequently seen by people. 

 

1 The womens apartments being quite separate from the rest of a 
Chinese house, male visitors consequently know nothing about their 
inhabitants. 

2 See No. XIII., note 1. 

3 A very ancient custom in China, originating in a belief that these 
birds never mate a second time. The libation is made on the occasion of the 
bridegroom fetching his bride from her fathers house. 

4 A Chinese trousseau, in addition to clothes and jewels, consists of 
tables and chairs, and all kinds of house furniture and ornaments. 

XXXVI. THE KING 

A CERTAIN Governor of Hu-nan despatched a magistrate to the 


capital in charge of treasure to the amount of six hundred thousand ounces 
of silver. On the road the magistrate encountered a violent storm of rain, 
which so [p. 159] delayed him that night came on before he was able to 
reach the next station. He therefore took refuge in an old temple but, when 
morning came, he was horrified to find that the treasure had disappeared. 
Unable to fix the guilt on anyone, he returned forthwith to the Governor and 
told him the whole story. The latter, however, refused to believe what the 
magistrate said, and would have had him severely punished, but that each 
and all of his attendants stoutly corroborated his statements; and 
accordingly he bade him return and endeavour to find the missing silver. 

When the magistrate got back to the temple, he met an extraordinary-
looking blind man, who informed him that he could read peoples thoughts, 
and further went on to say that the magistrate had come there on a matter 
of money. The latter replied that it was so, and recounted the misfortune 
that had overtaken him; whereupon the blind man called for sedan-chairs, 
and told the magistrate to follow and see for himself, which he accordingly 
did, accompanied by all his retinue. If the blind man said east, they went 
east; or if north, north; journeying along for five days until far among the 
hills, where they beheld a large city with a great number of inhabitants. They 
entered the gates and proceeded on for a short distance, when suddenly the 
blind man cried Stop! and, alighting from his chair, pointed to a lofty door 
facing the west, at which he told the magistrate to knock and make what 
inquiries were necessary. He then bowed and took his leave, and the 
magistrate obeyed his instructions, whereupon a man came out in reply to 
his summons. He was dressed in the fashion of the Han dynasty,1 and did 
not say what his name was; but as soon as the magistrate informed him 
wherefore he had come, he replied that if the latter would wait a few days he 
himself would assist him in the matter. The man then conducted the 
magistrate within, and giving him a room to himself, provided him regularly 
with food and drink. One day he chanced to stroll away to the back of the 
building, and there found a beautiful garden with dense avenues of pine-
trees and smooth lawns of fine grass. After wandering about for some time 
among the arbours and ornamental buildings, the magistrate came to a lofty 
kiosque, and mounted the steps, when he saw hanging on [p. 160] the wall 
before him a number of human skins, each with its eyes, nose, ears, mouth, 
and heart.2 Horrified at this, he beat a hasty retreat to his quarters, 
convinced that he was about to leave his own skin in this out-of-the-way 
place, and giving himself up for lost. 

He reflected, however, that he should probably gain nothing by trying 
to escape, and made up his mind to wait; and on the following day the same 
man came to fetch him, saying he could now have an audience. The 
magistrate replied that he was ready; and his conductor then mounted a 
fiery steed, leaving the other to follow on foot. By-and-by they reached a door 
like that leading into a Viceroys yamn, where stood on either side crowds of 
official servants, preserving the utmost silence and decorum. The man here 
dismounted and led the magistrate inside; and after passing through 
another door they came into the presence of a king, who wore a cap 
decorated with pearls, and an embroidered sash, and sat facing the south. 
The magistrate rushed forward and prostrated himself on the ground; upon 
which the King asked him if he was the Hu-non official who had been 
charged with the conveyance of treasure. On his answering in the affirmative, 
the King said; The money is all here; its a mere trifle, but I have no 
objection to receive it as a present from the Governor. The magistrate here 


burst into tears, and declared that his term of grace had already expired that 
he would be punished if he went back thus, especially as he would have no 
evidence to adduce in substantiation of his story. That is easy enough, 
replied the King, and put into his hands a thick letter, which he bade him 
give to the Governor, assuring him that this would prevent him from getting 
into any trouble. He also provided him with an escort; and the magistrate, 
who dared not argue the point further, sorrowfully accepted the letter and 
took his departure. 

The road he travelled along was not that by which he had come; and 
when the hills ended, his escort left him and went back. In a few days more 
he reached Chang-sha, and respectfully informed the Governor of what had 
taken place; but the Governor thought he was telling more lies, and in a 
great [p. 161] rage bade the attendants bind him hand and foot. The 
magistrate then drew the letter forth from his coat; and when the Governor 
broke the seal and saw its contents, his face turned deadly pale. He gave 
orders for the magistrate to be unbound, remarking that the loss of the 
treasure was of no importance, and that the magistrate was free to go. 
Instructions were next issued that the amount was to be made up in some 
way or other and forwarded to the capital; and meanwhile the Governor fell 
sick and died. 

Now this Governor had had a wife of whom he was dotingly fond; and 
one morning when they waked up, lo all her hair was gone. The whole 
establishment was in dismay, no one knowing what to make of such an 
occurrence. But the letter above-mentioned contained that hair, 
accompanied by the following words:Ever since you first entered into 
public life your career has been one of peculation and avarice. The six 
hundred thousand ounces of silver are safely stored in my treasury. Make 
good this sum from your own accumulated extortions. The officer you 
charged with the treasure is innocent; he must not be wrongly punished. On 
a former occasion I took your wifes hair as a gentle warning. If now you 
disobey my injunctions, it will not be long before I have your head. Herewith 
I return the hair as an evidence of what I say. When the Governor was dead, 
his family divulged the contents of the letter; and some of his subordinates 
sent men to search for the city, but they only found range upon range of 
inaccessible mountains, with nothing like a road or path. 

 

1 Which ended some seventeen hundred years ago. 

2 Corresponding with our five senses, the heart taking the place of 
the brain, and being regarded by Chinese doctors as the seat not only of 
intelligence and the passions, but also of all sensation. 

XXXVII. ENGAGED TO A NUN 

AT I-ling, in Hupei, there lived a young man named Chn Y, the son 
of a graduate. He was a good scholar and a handsome fellow, and had made 
a reputation for himself even before he arrived at manhood. When quite a 
boy, a physiognomist had predicted that he would marry a Taoist nun; but 
his parents regarded it only as a joke, and made several attempts to get him 
a different kind of wife. Their efforts, however, had not hitherto [p. 162] 
proved successful, the difficulty being to find a suitable match. 

Now his maternal grandmother lived at Huang-kang; and on one 


occasion, when young Chn was paying her a visit, he heard some one say 
that of the four Yns at Huang-chou the youngest had no peer. This remark 
referred to some very nice-looking nuns who lived in a temple a few miles 
from his grandmothers house; and accordingly Chn secretly set off to see 
them, and knocking at the door, was very cordially received by the four 
ladies, who were persons of considerable refinement. The youngest was a girl 
of incomparable beauty, and Chn could not keep his eyes off her, until at 
last she put her hand up to her face and looked the other way. Her 
companions now going out of the room to get tea for their visitor, Chn 
availed himself of the opportunity to ask the young ladys name; to which 
she replied that she was called Yn-chi, and that her surname was Chn. 
How extraordinary! cried Chn; and mine is Fan.2 This made her blush 
very much, and she bent her head down, and made no answer by-and-by 
rising up and going away. The tea then came in, accompanied by some nice 
fruit, and the nuns began telling him their names. One was Pai Yn-shen, 
and thirty odd years of age; another was Sheng Yn-mien, just twenty; and 
the third was Liang Yn-tong, twenty-four or five years old, but the junior in 
point of religious standing.3 Yn-chi did not reappear, and at length Chn 
grew anxious to see her again, and asked where she was. Miss Pai told him 
her sister was afraid of strangers, and Chn then got up, and took his leave 
in spite of their efforts to detain him. If you want to see Yn-chi you had 
better come again tomorrow, said Miss Pai; and Chn, who went home 
thinking of nothing but Yn-chi, did return to the temple on the following 
day. 

All the nuns [p. 163] were there except Yn-chi, but he hardly liked 
to begin by inquiring after her; and then they pressed him to stay and take 
dinner with them, accepting no excuses, Miss Pai herself setting food and 
chop-sticks before him, and urging him to eat. When he asked where Yn-
chi was, they said she would come directly; but evening gradually drew on, 
and Chn rose to go home. Thereupon they all entreated him to stay, 
promising that if he did so they would make Yn-chi come in. Chn then 
agreed to remain; the lamps were lighted, and wine was freely served round, 
until at last he said he was so tipsy he couldnt take any more. Three 
bumpers more, cried Miss Pai, and then we will send for Yn-chi. So 
Chn drank off his three cups, whereupon Miss Liang said he must also 
drink three with her, which he did, turning his wine-cup down on the table[4] 
and declaring that he would have no more. The gentleman wont 
condescend to drink with us, said Miss Pai to Miss Liang, so you had 
better call in Yn-chi, and tell the fair Eloisa that her Abelard is awaiting 
her. In a few moments Miss Liang came back and told Chn that Yn-chi 
would not appear; upon which he went off in a huff, without saying a word 
to either of them, and for several days did not go near the place again. 

He could not, however, forget Yn-chi, and was always hanging about 
on the watch, until one afternoon he observed Miss Pai go out, at which he 
was delighted, for he wasnt much afraid of Miss Liang, and at once ran up 
to the temple and knocked at the door. Yn-mien answered his knock, and 
from her he discovered that Miss Liang had also gone out on business. He 
then asked for Yn-chi, and Yn-mien led him into another courtyard, 
where she called out, Yn-chi! heres a visitor. At this the door of the room 
was immediately slammed, and Yn-mien laughed and told Chn she had 
locked herself in. Chn was on the point of saying something, when Yn-
mien moved away, and a voice was heard from the other side of the window, 
They all want to make me a bait to entice you, Sir; and if you come here 


again, I cannot answer for my safety. I do not wish to remain a nun, and if I 
could only meet with a gentleman like you, Mr. Fan, I [p. 164] would be a 
handmaid to him all the days of my life. Chn offered his hand and heart to 
the young lady on the spot; but she reminded him that her education for the 
priesthood had not been accomplished without expense. And if you truly 
love me, added she, bring twenty ounces of silver wherewith to purchase 
my freedom. I will wait for you three years with the utmost fidelity. Chn 
assented to this, and was about to tell her who he really was, when Yn-
mien returned, and they all went out together, Chn now bidding them 
farewell and going back to his grand-mothers. 

After this he always had Yn-chi in his thoughts, and wanted very 
much to get another interview with her and be near her once again, but at 
this juncture he heard that his father was dangerously ill, and promptly set 
off on his way home, travelling day and night. His father died, and his 
mother, who then ruled the household, was such a severe person that he 
dared not tell her what was nearest to his heart. Meanwhile he scraped 
together all the money he could; and refused all proposals of marriage on the 
score of being in mourning for his fathers. His mother, however, insisted on 
his taking a wife; and he then told her that when he was with his 
grandmother at Huang-kang, an arrangement had been made that he was to 
marry a Miss Chen, to which he himself was quite ready to accede; and that 
now, although his fathers death had stopped all communications on the 
subject, he could hardly do better than pay a visit to his grandmother and 
see how matters stood, promising that if the affair was not actually settled 
he would obey his mothers commands. His mother consented to this, and 
off he started with the money he had saved; but when he reached Huang-
kang and went off to the temple, he found the place desolate and no longer 
what it had been. Entering in, he saw only one old priestess employed in 
cooking her food and on making inquiries of her, she told him that the 
Abbess had died in the previous year, and that the four nuns had gone away 
in different directions. According to her, Yn-chi was living in the northern 
quarter of the city, and thither he proceeded forthwith; but after asking for 
her at all the temples in the neighbourhood, he could get no [p. 165] news of 
her, and returned sorrowfully home, pretending to his mother that his uncle 
had said Mr. Chn had gone away, and that as soon as he came back they 
would send a servant to let him know. 

Some months after these events, Chns mother went on a visit to her 
own home, and mentioned this story in conversation with her old mother, 
who, to her astonishment, knew nothing at all about it, but suggested that 
Chn and his uncle must have concocted the thing together. Luckily, 
however, for Chn his uncle was away at that time, and they had no means 
of getting at the real truth. Meanwhile, Chns mother went away to the Lily 
Hill to fulfil a vow she had made, and remained all night at an inn at the foot 
of the hill. That evening the landlord knocked at her door and ushered in a 
young priestess to share the room. The girl said her name was Yn-chi; and 
when she heard that Chns mother lived at I-ling, she went and sat by her 
side, and poured out to her a long tale of tribulation, finishing up by saying 
that she had a cousin named Pan, at I-ling, and begging Chns mother to 
send some one to tell him where she would be found. Every day I suffer, 
added she, and each day seems like a year. Tell him to come quickly, or I 
may be gone. Chns mother inquired what his other name might be, but 
she said she did not know; to which the old lady replied that it was of no 
consequence, as, being a graduate, it would be easy to find him out. 


Early in the morning Chns mother bade the girl farewell, the latter 
again begging her not to forget; and when she reached home she told Chn 
what had occurred. Chn threw himself on his knees, and told his mother 
that he was the Fan to whom the young lady alluded; and after hearing how 
the engagement had come about, his mother was exceedingly angry, and 
said, Undutiful boy! how will you face your relations with a nun for a wife? 
Chn hung his head and made no reply; but shortly afterwards when he 
went up for his examination, he presented himself at the address given by 
Yn-chionly, however, to find that the young lady had gone away a 
fortnight before. He then returned home and fell into a bad state of health, 
when his grandmother died and his mother set off to assist at her funeral. 

On her way back she missed the right road and reached the house of 
some people named Ching, who [p. 166] turned out to be cousins of hers. 
They invited her in, and there she saw a young girl of about eighteen sitting 
in the parlour, and as great a beauty as she had ever set eyes on. Now, as 
she was always thinking of making a good match for her son, and curing 
him of his settled melancholy, she asked who the young lady might be; and 
they told her that her name was Wang,that she was a connection of their 
own, and that her father and mother being dead, she was staying 
temporarily with them. Chns mother inquired the name of Miss Wangs 
betrothed, but they said she was not engaged; and then, taking her hand, 
she entered into conversation, and was very much charmed with her. 
Passing the night there, Chns mother took her cousin into her confidence, 
and the latter agreed that it would be a capital match; but, added she, 
this young lady is somewhat ambitious, or she would hardly have remained 
single so long. We must think about it. Meanwhile, Chns mother and Miss 
Wang got on so extremely well together that they were already on the terms 
of mother and daughter; and Miss Wang was invited to accompany her home. 

This invitation she readily accepted, and next day they went back; 
Chns mother, who wished to see her son free from his present trouble, 
bidding one of the servants tell him that she had brought home a nice wife 
for him; Chn did not believe this; but on peeping through the window 
beheld a young lady much prettier even than Yn-chi herself. He now began 
to reflect that the three years agreed upon had already expired; that Yn-chi 
had gone no one knew whither, and had probably by this time found another 
husband; so he had no difficulty in entertaining the thought of marrying this 
young lady, and soon regained his health. His mother then caused the young 
people to meet, and be introduced to one another; saying to Miss Wang, 
when her son had left the room, Did you guess why I invited you to come 
home with me? I did, replied the young lady, but I dont think you 
guessed what was my object in coming. Some years ago I was betrothed to a 
Mr. Pan, of I-ling. I have heard nothing of him for a long time. If he has 
found another wife I will be your daughter-in-law; if not, I will ever regard 
you as my own mother, and endeavour to repay you for your kindness to 
me. As there is an actual [p. 167] engagement, replied Chns mother, I 
will say no more; but when I was at the Lily Hill there was a Taoist nun 
inquiring after this Mr. Pan, and now you again, though, as a matter of fact, 
there is no Mr. Pan in I-ling at all. What! cried Miss Wang, are you that 
lady I met? I am the person who inquired for Mr. Pan. If that is so, replied 
Chns mother with a smile, then your Mr. Pan is not far off. Where is 
he? said she; and then Chns mother bade a maid-servant lead her out to 
her son and ask him. Is your name Yn-chi? said Chn, in great 
astonishment; and when the young lady asked him how he knew it, he told 


her the whole story of his pretending to be a Mr. Pan. But when Yn-chi 
found out to whom she was talking, she was abashed, and went back and 
told his mother, who inquired how she came to have two names. My real 
name is Wang, replied the young lady; but the old Abbess, being very fond 
of me, made me take her own name. Chns mother was overjoyed at all this, 
and an auspicious day was immediately fixed for the celebration of their 
marriage. 

 

1 These nunneries, of which there are plenty in China, are well worth 
visiting, and may be freely entered by both sexes. Sometimes there are as 
many as a hundred nuns living together in one temple, and to all 
appearances devoting their lives to religious exercises; report, however, tells 
many tales of broken vows, and makes sad havoc generally with the 
reputation of these fair vestals. 

2 In corresponding English, this would be:The young lady said her 
name was Elo.sa. How funny! cried Chn, and mine is Abelard. 

3 That is, she was the last to take the vows. 

4 The usual signal that a person does not wish to take any more wine. 

5 This would carry him well on into the third of the years during 
which, Yn-chi had promised to wait for him. 

XXXVIII. THE YOUNG LADY OF THE TUNG-TING LAKE 

THE spirits of the Tung-ting lake are very much in the habit of 
borrowing boats. Sometimes the cable of an empty junk will cast itself off, 
and away goes the vessel over the waves to the sound of music in the air 
above. The boatmen crouch down in one corner and hide their faces, not 
daring to look up until the trip is over and they are once more at their old 
anchorage. 

Now a certain Mr. Lin, returning home after having failed at the 
examination for Masters degree, was lying down very tipsy on the deck of his 
boat, when suddenly strains of music and singing began to be heard. The 
boatmen shook Mr. Lin, but failing to rouse him, ran down and hid 
themselves in the hold below. Then some one came and lifted him up, letting 
him drop again on to the deck, where he was allowed to remain in the same 
drunken sleep [p. 168] as before. By-and-by the noise of the various 
instruments became almost deafening, and Lin, partially waking up, smelt a 
delicious odour of perfumes filling the air around him. Opening his eyes, he 
saw that the boat was crowded with a number of beautiful girls; and 
knowing that something strange was going on, he pretended to be fast asleep. 
There was then a call for Chih-cheng, upon which a young waiting-maid 
came forward and stood quite close to Mr. Lins head. Her stockings were the 
colour of the king-fishers wing, and her feet encased in tiny purple shoes, 
no bigger than ones finger. Much smitten with this young lady, he took hold 
of her stocking with his teeth, causing her, the next time she moved, to fall 
forward flat on her face. Some one, evidently in authority, asked what was 
the matter; and when he heard the explanation, was very angry, and gave 
orders to take off Mr. Lins head. Soldiers now came and bound Lin, and on 
getting up he beheld a man sitting with his face to the south, and dressed in 
the garments of a king. Sire, cried Lin, as he was being led away, the king 


of the Tung-ting lake was a mortal named Lin; your servants name is Lin 
also. His Majesty was a disappointed candidate; your servant is one too. His 
Majesty met the Dragon Lady, and was made immortal; your servant has 
played a trick upon this girl, and he is to die. Why this inequality of 
fortunes? 

When the king heard this, he bade them bring him back, and asked 
him, saying, Are you, then, a disappointed candidate? Lin said he was; 
whereupon the king handed him writing materials, and ordered him to 
compose an ode upon a ladys head-dress. Some time passed before Lin, who 
was a scholar of some repute in his own neighbourhood, had done more 
than sit thinking about what he should write; and at length the king 
upbraided him, saying, Come, come, a man of your reputation should not 
take so long. Sire, replied Lin, laying down his pen, it took ten years to 
complete the Songs of the Three Kingdoms; whereby it may be known that 
the value of compositions depends more upon the labour given to them than 
the speed with which they are written. 

The king laughed, and waited patiently from early morning till noon, 
when a copy of the verses was put into his hand, with which he declared 
himself very pleased. He now commanded that Lin should be [p. 169] served 
with wine; and shortly after there followed a collation of all kinds of curious 
dishes, in the middle of which an officer came in and reported that the 
register of people to be drowned had been made up. How many in all? 
asked the king. Two hundred and twenty-eight, was the reply; and then the 
king inquired who had been deputed to carry it out; whereupon he was 
informed that the generals Mao and Nan had been appointed to do the work. 
Lin here rose to take leave, and the king presented him with ten ounces of 
pure gold and a crystal square,2 telling him it would preserve him from any 
danger he might encounter on the lake. At this moment the kings retinue 
and horses ranged themselves in proper order upon the surface of the lake; 
and his Majesty, stepping from the boat into his sedan-chair, disappeared 
from view. 

When everything had been quiet for a long time, the boatmen emerged 
from the hold, and proceeded to shape their course northwards. The wind, 
however, was against them, and they were unable to make any headway; 
when all of a sudden an iron cat[A] appeared floating on the top of the water. 
General Mao has come, cried the boatmen, in great alarm; and they and all 
the passengers on board fell down on their faces. Immediately afterwards a 
great wooden beam stood up from the lake, nodding itself backwards and 
forwards, which the boatmen, more frightened than ever, said was General 
Nan. Before long a tremendous sea was raging, the sun was darkened in the 
heavens, and every vessel in sight was capsized. But Mr. Lin sat in the 
middle of the boat, with the crystal square in his hand, and the mighty 
waves broke around without doing them any harm. Thus were they saved, 
and Lin returned home; and whenever he told his wonderful story, he would 
assert that, although unable to speak positively as to the facial beauty of the 
young lady he had seen, he dared say that she had the most exquisite pair of 
feet in the world. 

Subsequently, having occasion to visit the city of Wu-chang, he heard 
of an old woman who wished to sell her daughter, but was unwilling to 
accept money, giving out [p. 170] that anyone who had the fellow of a certain 
crystal square in her possession should be at liberty to take the girl. Lin 
thought this very strange; and taking his square with him sought out the old 


woman, who was delighted to see him, and told her daughter to come in. The 
young lady was about fifteen years of age, and possessed of surpassing 
beauty; and after saying a few words of greeting, she turned round and went 
within again. Lins reason had almost fled at the sight of this peerless girl, 
and he straightway informed the old woman that he had such an article as 
she required, but could not say whether it would match hers or not. So they 
compared their squares together, and there was not a fraction of difference 
between them, either in length or breadth. The old woman was overjoyed, 
and inquiring where Lin lived, bade him go home and get a bridal chair, 
leaving his square behind him as a pledge of his good faith. This he refused 
to do; but the old woman laughed, and said, You are too cautious, Sir; do 
you think I should run away for a square? 

Lin was thus constrained to leave it behind him, and hurrying away 
for a chair, made the best of his way back. When, however, he got there, the 
old woman was gone. In great alarm he inquired of the people who lived near 
as to her whereabouts; no one, however, knew; and it being already late he 
returned disconsolately to his boat. On the way, he met a chair coming 
towards him, and immediately the screen was drawn aside, and a voice cried 
out, Mr. Lin! why so late? Looking closely, he saw that it was the old 
woman, who, after asking him if he hadnt suspected her of playing him false, 
told him that just after he left she had had the offer of a chair; and knowing 
that he, being only a stranger in the place, would have some trouble in 
obtaining one, she had sent her daughter on to his boat. 

Lin then begged she would return with him, to which she would not 
consent; and accordingly, not fully trusting what she said, he hurried on 
himself as fast as he could, and, jumping into the boat, found the young 
lady already there. She rose to meet him with a smile, and then he was 
astonished to see that her stockings were the colour of a king-fishers wing, 
her shoes purple, and her appearance generally like that of the girl he had 
met on the Tung-ting lake. While he was still confused, the young lady 
remarked, [p. 171] You stare, Sir, as if you had never seen me before! but 
just then Lin noticed the tear in her stocking made by his own teeth, and 
cried out in amazement, What! are you Chih-chng? The young lady 
laughed at this; whereupon Lin rose, and, making her a profound bow, said, 
If you are that divine creature, I pray you tell me at once, and set my 
anxiety at rest. Sir, replied she, I will tell you all. That personage you met 
on the boat was actually the king of the Tung-ting lake. He was so pleased 
with your talent that he wished to bestow me upon you but, because I was a 
great favourite with her Majesty the Queen, he went back to consult with her. 
I have now come at the Queens own command. Lin was highly pleased; and 
washing his hands, burnt incense, with his face towards the lake, as if it 
were the Imperial Court, and then they went home together. 

Subsequently, when Lin had occasion to go to Wu-chang, his wife 
asked to be allowed to avail herself of the opportunity to visit her parents; 
and when they reached the lake, she drew a hair-pin from her hair, and 
threw it into the water. Immediately a boat rose from the lake, and Lins wife, 
stepping into it, vanished from sight like a bird on the wing. Lin remained 
waiting for her on the prow of his vessel, at the spot where she had 
disappeared; and by-and-by, he beheld a houseboat approach, from the 
window of which there flew a beautiful bird, which was no other than Chih-
chng. Then some one handed out from the same window gold and silk, and 
precious things in great abundance, all presents to them from the Queen. 


After this, Chih-chng went home regularly twice every year, and Lin soon 
became a very rich man, the things he had being such as no one had ever 
before seen or heard of. 

 

1 The celebrated lake in Hu-nan, round which has gathered so much 
of the folk-lore of China. 

2 The instrument used by masons is here meant. 

A Im not sure what an iron cat is. 

XXXIX. THE MAN WHO WAS CHANGED INTO A CROW 

MR. Y JUNG was a Hu-nan man. The person who told me his story 
did not recollect from what department or district he came. His family was 
very poor; and once, when returning home after failure at the examination, 
he ran [p. 172] quite out of funds. Being ashamed to beg, and feeling 
uncomfortably hungry, he turned to rest awhile in the Wu Wang[1] temple, 
where he poured out all his sorrows at the feet of the God. His prayers over, 
he was about to lie down in the outer porch, when suddenly a man took him 
and led him into the presence of Wu Wang; and then falling on his knees, 
said, Your Majesty, there is a vacancy among the black-robes; the 
appointment might be bestowed on this man. The King assented, and Y 
received a suit of black clothes; and when he had put these on he was 
changed into a crow, and flew away. 

Outside he saw a number of fellow-crows collected together, and 
immediately joined them, settling with them on the masts of the boats, and 
imitating them in catching and eating the meat or cakes which the 
passengers and boatmen on board threw up to them in the air.2 In a little 
while he was no longer hungry, and, soaring aloft, alighted on the top of a 
tree, quite satisfied with his change of condition. Two or three days passed, 
and the King, now pitying his solitary state, provided him with a very elegant 
mate, whose name was Chu-ching, and who took every opportunity of 
warning him when he exposed himself too much in search of food. However, 
he did not pay much attention to this, and one day a soldier shot him in the 
breast with a cross-bow; but luckily Chu-ching got away with him in her 
beak, and he was not captured. This enraged the other crows very much, 
and with their wings they flapped the water into such big waves that all the 
boats were upset. Chu-ching now procured food and fed her husband; but 
his wound was a severe one, and by the end of the day he was deadat 
which moment he waked, as it were, from a dream, and found himself lying 
in the temple. 

The people of the place had found Mr. Y to all appearance dead; and 
not knowing how he had come by his death, and finding that his body was 
not quite cold, had set some one to watch him. They now learnt what had 
happened to him, and, making up a purse between them, sent him away [p. 
173] home. 

Three years afterwards he was passing by the same spot, and went in 
to worship at the temple; also preparing a quantity of food, and inviting the 
crows to come down and eat it. He then prayed, saying, If Chu-ching is 
among you, let her remain. 

When the crows had eaten the food they all flew away; and by-and-by 


Y returned, having succeeded in obtaining his masters degree. Again he 
visited Wu Wangs temple, and sacrificed a sheep as a feast for the crows; 
and again he prayed as on the previous occasion. That night he slept on the 
lake, and, just as the candles were lighted and he had sat down, suddenly 
there was a noise as of birds settling, and lo! a beautiful young lady about 
twenty years of age stood before him. Have you been quite well since we 
parted? asked she; to which Y replied that he should like to know whom 
he had the honour of addressing. Dont you remember Chu-ching? said 
the young lady; and then Y was overjoyed, and inquired how she had come. 
I am now, replied Chu-ching, a spirit of the Han river, and seldom go 
back to my old home; but in consequence of what you did on two occasions, 
I have come to see you once more. They then sat talking together like 
husband and wife reunited after long absence, and Y proposed that she 
should return with him on his way south. Chu-ching, however, said she 
must go west again, and upon this point they could not come to any 
agreement. 

Next morning when waked up, he found himself in a lofty room with 
two large candles burning brightly, and no longer in his own boat. In utter 
amazement he arose and asked where he was. At Han-yang, replied Chu-
ching; my home is your home; why need you go south? By-and-by, when it 
got lighter, in came a number of serving-women with wine, which they 
placed on a low table on the top of a broad couch; and then husband and 
wife sat down to drink together. Where are all my servants? asked Y; and 
when he heard they were still on the boat, he said he was afraid the boat 
people would not be able to wait. Never mind, replied Chu-ching; I have 
plenty of money, and Ill help you to make it up to them. Y therefore 
remained with her, feasting and enjoying himself, and forgetting all about 
going home. 

As for the boatmen, when they walked up and found themselves at [p. 
174] Han-yang, they were greatly astonished; and seeing that the servants 
could find no trace of their missing master, they wished to go about their 
own business. They were unable, however, to undo the cable, and so they all 
remained there together for more than a couple of months, by the end of 
which time Mr. Y became anxious to return home, and said to Chu-ching, 
If I stay here, my family connections will be completely severed. Besides, as 
we are husband and wife, it is only right that you should pay a visit to my 
home. That, replied Chu-ching, I cannot do and even were I able to go, 
you have a wife there already, and where would you put me? It is better for 
me to stop where I am, and thus you will have a second family. Y said she 
would be so far off that he could not always be dropping in; whereupon Chu-
ching produced a black suit, and replied, Here are your old clothes. 
Whenever you want to see me, put these on and come, and on your arrival I 
will take them off for you. 

She then prepared a parting feast for her husband, at which he got 
very tipsy; and when he waked up he was on board his boat again, and at 
his old anchorage on the lake. The boatmen and his servants were all here, 
and they looked at one another in mutual amazement and when they asked 
Y where he had been, he hardly knew what to say. By the side of his pillow 
he discovered a bundle in which were some new clothes Chu-ching had 
given him, shoes, stockings, &c.; and folded up with them was the suit of 
black. In addition to these he found an embroidered belt for tying round the 
waist, which was stuffed full of gold. He now started on his way south, and, 


when he reached the end of his journey, dismissed the boatmen with a 
handsome present. 

After being at home for some months, his thoughts reverted to Han-
yang; and, taking out the black clothes, he put them on, when wings 
immediately grew from his ribs, and with a flap he was gone. In about four 
hours he arrived at Han-yang, and, wheeling round and round in the air, 
espied below him a solitary islet, on which stood a house, and there he 
proceeded to alight. A maid-servant had already seen him coming, and cried 
out, Heres master! and in a few moments out came Chu-ching, and bade 
the attendants take off Mr. Ys feathers. They were not [p. 175] long in 
setting him free, and then, hand in hand, he and Chu-ching went into the 
house together. You have come at a happy moment, said his wife, as they 
sat down to tell each other all the news; and in three days time she gave 
birth to a boy, whom they called Han-chan, which means born on the Han 
river. Three days after the event all the river-nymphs came to congratulate 
them, and brought many handsome presents. They were a charming band, 
not one being over thirty years of age; and, going into the bedroom and 
approaching the bed, each one pressed her thumb on the babys nose, 
saying, Long life to thee, little one! Y asked who they all were, and Chu-
ching told him they belonged to the same family of spirits as herself; And 
the two last of all, said she, dressed in pale lilac, are the nymphs who gave 
away their girdles at Hankow.3 

A few months passed away, and then Chu-ching sent her husband 
back in a boat to his old home. No sails or oars were used, but the boat sped 
along of itself; and at the end of the river journey there were men waiting 
with horses to convey him to his own door. After this he went backwards 
and forwards very frequently; and in time Han-chan grew up to be a fine boy, 
the apple of his fathers eye. 

Unhappily his first wife had no children, and she was extremely 
anxious to see Han-chan; so Y communicated this to Chu-ching, who at 
once packed up a box and sent him back with his father, on the 
understanding that he was to return in three months. However, the other 
wife became quite as fond of him as if he had been her own child, and ten 
months passed without her being able to bear the thought of parting with 
him. But one day Han-chan was taken violently ill, and died; upon which 
Ys wife was overwhelmed with grief, and wished to die too. 

Y then set off for Han-yang, to carry the tidings to Chu-Ching; and 
when he arrived, lo! there was Han-chan, with his shoes and socks off, lying 
on the bed. He was greatly rejoiced at this, and asked Chu-ching what it all 
meant. Why, replied she, the term agreed upon by us had long [p. 176] 
expired, and, as I wanted my boy, I sent for him. Y then told her how 
much his other wife loved Han-chan, but Chu-ching said she must wait 
until there was another child, and then she should have him. 

Later on Chu-Ching had twins, a boy and a girl, the former named 
Han-sheng and the latter Y-pei; whereupon Han-chan went back again 
with his father, who, finding it inconvenient to be travelling backwards and 
forwards three or four times in a year, removed with his family to the city of 
Han-yang. At twelve years of age Han-chan took his bachelors degree; and 
his mother, thinking there was no girl among mortals good enough for her 
son, sent for him to come home, that she herself might find a wife for him, 
which she did in the person of a Miss Chih-niang, who was the daughter of a 


spirit like herself. Ys first wife then died, and the three children all went to 
mourn her loss, Han-chan remaining in Hu-nan after the funeral, but the 
other two returning with their father, and not leaving their mother again. 

 

1 The guardian angel of crows. 

2 In order to secure a favourable passage. The custom here mentioned 
was actually practised at more than one temple on the river Yang-tsze, and 
allusions to it will be found in more than one serious work. 

3 Alluding to a legend of a young man meeting two young ladies at 
Hankow, each of whom wore a girdle adorned with a pearl as big as a hens 
egg. The young man begged them to give him these girdles, and they did so; 
but the next moment they had vanished, and the girdles too. 

XL. THE FLOWER NYMPHS 

AT the lower temple on Mount Lao the camellias are twenty feet in 
height, and many spans in circumference. The peonies are more than ten 
feet high; and when the flowers are in bloom the effect is that of gorgeous 
tapestry. 

There was a Mr. Huang, of Chiao-chow, who built himself a house at 
that spot, for the purposes of study; and one day he saw from his window a 
young lady dressed in white wandering about amongst the flowers. 
Reflecting that she could not possibly belong to the monastery,l he went out 
to meet her; but she had already disappeared. After this he frequently 
observed her, and once hid himself in a thick-foliaged bush, waiting for her 
to come. By-and-by she appeared, bringing with her another young lady 
dressed in red, who, as he noticed from his distant point of observation, was 
an exceedingly good-looking girl. When they approached nearer, the young 
lady in the red dress ran back, saying, There is a man here! whereupon Mr. 
Huan jumped out upon them, and away they went in a scare, with their 
skirts and long sleeves fluttering in the breeze, and [p. 177] perfuming the 
air around. Huang pursued them as far as a low wall, where they suddenly 
vanished from his gaze. In great distress at thus losing the fair creatures, he 
took a pencil and wrote upon a tree the following lines: 

The pangs of love my heart enthrall 

 As I stand opposite this wall. 

I dread some hateful tyrants power, 

 With none to save you in that hour. 

 

Returning home he was absorbed in his own thoughts, when all at 
once the young lady walked in, and he rose up joyfully to meet her. I 
thought you were a brigand, said his visitor, smiling; you nearly frightened 
me to death. I did not know you were a great scholar whose acquaintance I 
now hope to have the honour of making. Mr. Huang asked the young lady 
her name, &c., to which she replied, My name is Hsiang-y, and I belong to 
Ping-kang-hsiang; but a magician has condemned me to remain on this hill 
much against my own inclination. Tell me his name, cried Huang, and Ill 
soon set you free. There is no need for that, answered the young lady; I 
suffer no injury from him, and the place is not an inconvenient one for 
making the acquaintance of such worthy gentlemen as yourself. Huang 
then inquired who was the young lady in red, and she told him that her 


name was Chiang-hseh, and that they were half-sisters; and now, added 
she, I will sing you a song; but please dont laugh at me. She then began as 
follows 

In pleasant company the hours fly fast, 

 And through the window daybreak peeps at last. 

Ah, would that, like the swallow and his mate, 

 To live together were our happy fate. 

 

Huang here grasped her hand[2] and said, Beauty without and 
intellect withinenough to make a man love [p. 178] you and forget all 
about death, only one days absence being like the separation of a thousand 
miles. I pray you come again whenever an opportunity may present itself. 
From this time the young lady would frequently walk in to have a chat, but 
would never bring her sister with her in spite of all Mr. Huangs entreaties. 
Huang thought they werent friends, but Hsiang said her sister did not care 
for society in the same way that she herself did, promising at the same time 
to try and persuade her to come at some future day. 

One evening Hsiang-y arrived in a melancholy frame of mind, and 
told Huang that he was wanting more when he couldnt even keep what he 
had got; for tomorrow, said she, we part. Huang asked what she meant; 
and then, wiping away her tears with her sleeve, Hsiang-y declared it was 
destiny, and that she couldnt well tell him. Your former prophecy, 
continued she, has come too true; and now it may well be said of me 

Fallen into the tyrants power, 

 With none to save me in that hour. 

 

Huang again tried to question her, but she would tell him nothing; 
and by-and-by she rose and took her leave. This seemed very strange; 
however, next day a visitor came, who, after wandering round the garden, 
was much taken with a white peony,3 which he dug up and carried away 
with him. Huang now awaked to the fact that Hsiang-y was a flower nymph, 
and became very disconsolate in consequence of what had happened; but 
when he subsequently heard that the peony only lived a few days after being 
taken away, he wept bitterly, and composed an elegy in fifty stanzas, besides 
going daily to the hole from which it had been taken, and watering the 
ground with his tears. 

One day, as he was returning thence, he espied the young lady of the 
red clothes also wiping away her tears alongside the hole and immediately 
walked back gently towards her. She did not run away, and Huang, [p. 179] 
grasping her sleeve, joined with her in her lamentations. When these were 
concluded he invited her to his house, and then she burst out with a sigh, 
saying, Alas! that the sister of my early years should be thus suddenly 
taken from me. Hearing you, Sir, mourn as you did, I have also been moved 
to tears. Those you shed have sunk down deep to the realms below, and may 
perhaps succeed in restoring her to us; but the sympathies of the dead are 
destroyed for ever, and how then can she laugh and talk with us again? My 
luck is bad, said Huang, that I should injure those I love, neither can I 
have the good fortune to draw towards me another such a beauty. But tell 
me, when I often sent messages by Hsiang-y to you, why did you not 
come? I knew, replied she, what nine young fellows out of ten are; but I 
did not know what you were. She then took leave, Huang telling her how 
dull he felt without Hsiang-y, and begging her to come again. 


For some days she did not appear; and Huang remained in a state of 
great melancholy, tossing and turning on his bed and wetting the pillow with 
his tears, until one night he got up, put on his clothes, and trimmed the 
lamp; and having called for pen and ink, he composed the following lines 

On my cottage roof the evening rain-drops beat; 

I draw the blind and near the window take my seat. 

To my longing gaze no loved one appears; 

Drip, drip, drip, drip: fast flow my tears. 

 

This he read aloud; and when he had finished, a voice outside said, 
You want some one to cap your verses there! Listening attentively, he knew 
it was Chiang-hseh and opening the door he let her in. She looked at his 
stanza and added impromptu 

She is no longer in the room; 

A single lamp relieves the gloom; 

One solitary man is there; 

He and his shadow make a pair. 

 

As Huang read these words his tears fell fast; and then, turning to 
Chiang-hseh, he upbraided her for not having been to see him. I cant 
come so often as Hsiang-y did, replied she, but only now and then when 
you are very dull. After this she used to drop in occasionally, [p. 180] and 
Huang said Hsiang-y was his beloved wife, and she his dear friend, always 
trying to find out every time she came which flower in the garden she was, 
that he might bring her home with him, and save her from the fate of 
Hsiang-y. The old earth should not be disturbed, said she, and it would 
not do any good to tell you. If you couldnt keep your wife always with you, 
how will you be sure of keeping a friend? Huang, however, paid no heed to 
this, and seizing her arm, led her out into the garden, where he stopped at 
every peony and asked if this was the one; to which Chiang-hseh made no 
reply, but only put her hand to her mouth and laughed. 

At New Years time Huang went home, and a couple of months 
afterwards he dreamt that Chiang-hseh came to tell him she was in great 
trouble, begging him to hurry off as soon as possible to her rescue. When he 
woke up, he thought his dream a very strange one; and ordering his servant 
and horses to be ready, started at once for the hills. There he found that the 
priests were about to build a new room; and finding a camellia in the way, 
the contractor had given orders that it should be cut down. Huang now 
understood his dream, and immediately took steps to prevent the 
destruction of the flower. 

That night Chiang-hseh came to thank him, and Huang laughed and 
said, It serves you right for not telling me which you were. Now I know you, 
and if you dont come and see me, Ill get a firebrand and make it hot for 
you. Thats just why I didnt tell you before, replied she. The presence of 
my dear friend, said Huang, after a pause, makes me think more of my lost 
wife. It is long since I have mourned for her. Shall we go and bemoan her 
loss together? So they went off and shed many a tear on the spot where 
formerly Hsiang-y had stood, until at last Chiang-hseh wiped her eyes 
and said it was time to go. 

A few evenings later Huang was sitting alone, when suddenly Chiang-
hseh entered, her face radiant with smiles. Good news! cried she, the 


Flower-God,4 moved by [p. 181] your tears, has granted Hsiang-y a return 
to life. Huang was overjoyed, and asked when she would come; to which 
Chiang-hseh replied, that she could not say for certain, but that it would 
not be long. I came here on your account, said Huang; dont let me be 
duller than you can help. All right, answered she, and then went away, 
not returning for the next two evenings. Huang then went into the garden 
and threw his arms around her plant, entreating her to come and see him, 
though without eliciting any response. He accordingly went back, and began 
twisting up a torch, when all at once in she came, and snatching the torch 
out of his hand, threw it away, saying, Youre a bad fellow, and I dont like 
you, and I shant have any more to do with you. 

However, Huang soon succeeded in pacifying her, and by-and-by in 
walked Hsiang-y herself. Huang now wept tears of joy as he seized her 
hand, and drawing Chiang-hseh towards them, the three friends mingled 
their tears together. They then sat down and talked over the miseries of 
separation, Huang meanwhile noticing that Hsiang-y seemed to be 
unsubstantial, and that when he grasped her hand his fingers seemed to 
close only on themselves, and not as in the days gone by. This Hsiang-y 
explained, saying, When I was a flower-nymph I had a body; but now I am 
only the disembodied spirit of that flower. Do not regard me as a reality, but 
rather as an apparition seen in a dream. You have come at the nick of 
time, cried Chiang-hseh; your husband there was just getting 
troublesome. Hsiang-y now instructed Huang to take a little powdered 
white-berry and mixing it with some sulphur, to pour out a libation to her, 
adding, This day next year I will return your kindness. 

The young ladies then went away, and next day Huang observed the 
shoots of a young peony growing up where Hsiang-y had once stood. So he 
made the libation as she had told him, and had the plant very carefully 
tended, even building a fence all round to protect it. Hsiang-y came to 
thank him for this, and he proposed that the plant should be removed to his 
own home; but to this she would not agree, for, said she, I am not very 
strong, and could not stand being transplanted. Besides, all things have 
their appointed place; and as I was not originally intended for your home, it 
might shorten my life [p. 182] to be sent there. We can love each other very 
well here. 

Huang then asked why Chiang-hseh did not come; to which Hsiang-
y replied that they must make her, and proceeded with him into the garden, 
where, after picking a blade of grass, she measured upwards from the roots 
of Chiang-hsehs plant to a distance of four feet six inches, at which point 
she stopped and Huang began to scratch a mark on the place with his nails. 
At that moment Chiang-hseh came from behind the plant, and in mock 
anger cried out, You hussy you! what do you aid that wretch for? Dont be 
angry, my dear, said Hsiang-y; help me to amuse him for a year only, and 
then you shant be bothered any more. So they went on, Huang watching 
the plant thrive, until by the spring it was over two feet in height. He then 
went home, giving the priests a handsome present, and bidding them take 
great care of it. 

Next year, in the fourth moon, he returned and found upon the plant 
a bud just ready to break; and as he was walking round, the stem shook 
violently as if it would snap, and suddenly the bud opened into a flower as 
large as a plate, disclosing a beautiful maiden within, sitting upon one of the 
pistils, and only a few inches in height. In the twinkling of an eye she had 


jumped out, and lo! it was Hsiang-y. Through the wind and the rain I have 
waited for you, cried she; why have you come so late? They then went into 
the house, where they found Chiang-hseh already arrived, and sat down to 
enjoy themselves as they had done in former times. 

Shortly afterwards Huangs wife died, and he took up his abode at 
Mount Lao for good and all. The peonies were at that time as large round as 
ones arm; and whenever Huang went to look at them, he always said, Some 
day my spirit will be there by your sides; to which the two girls used to 
reply with a laugh, and say, Mind you dont forget. 

Ten years after these events, Huang became dangerously ill, and his 
son, who had come to see him, was very much distressed about him. I am 
about to be born, cried his father; I am not going to die. Why do you 
weep? He also told the priests that if later on they should see a red shoot, 
with five leaves, thrusting itself forth alongside of the peony, that would be 
himself. This was all he said, and his son proceeded to convey him home, 
where he died immediately on arrival. [p. 183] 

Next year a shoot did come up exactly as he had mentioned; and the 
priests, struck by the coincidence, watered it and supplied it with earth. In 
three years it was a tall plant, and a good span in circumference, but 
without flowers. When the old priest died, the others took no care of it; and 
as it did not flower they cut it down. The white peony then faded and died; 
and before long the camellia was dead too. 

 

1 Women, of course, being excluded. 

2 Although the Chinese do not shake hands in our sense of the term, 
it is a sign of affection to seize the hand of a parting or returning friend. The 
Book of Rites, however, lays down the rule that persons of opposite sexes 
should not, in passing things from one to the other, let their hands touch; 
and the question was gravely put to Mencius (Book IV.) as to whether a man 
might even pull his drowning sister-in-law out of the water. Mencius replied 
that it was indeed a general principle that a man should avoid touching a 
womans hand, but that he who could not make an exception in such a case 
would be no better than a wolf. Neither, according to the Chinese rule, 
should men and women hang their clothes on the same rack, which reminds 
one of the French prude who would not allow male and female authors to be 
ranged upon the same bookshelf. 

3 The Paeonia albiflora, Pall. 

4 The various subdivisions of the animal and vegetable kingdoms are 
each believed by the Chinese to be under the sway of a ruler holding his 
commission from and responsible to the one Supreme Power or God, fully in 
accordance with the general scheme of supernatural government accepted in 
other and less civilised communities. 

XLI. TA-NAN IN SEARCH OF HIS FATHER 

HSI CHANG-LIEH was a Chng-tu man. He had a wife and a 
concubine, the latter named Ho Chao-jung. His wife dying, he took a second 
by name Shn, who bullied the concubine dreadfully, and by her constant 
wrangling made his life perfectly unbearable, so that one day in a fit of anger 
he ran away and left them. Shortly afterwards Ho gave birth to a son, and 


called him Ta-nan; but as Hsi did not return, the wife Shn turned them out 
of the house, making them a daily allowance of food. By degrees Ta-nan 
became a big boy; and his mother, not daring to ask for an increase of 
victuals, was obliged to earn a little money by spinning. 

Meanwhile, Ta-nan, seeing all his companions go to school and learn 
to read, told his mother he should like to go too; and accordingly, as he was 
still very young, she sent him for a few days probation. He turned out to be 
so clever that he soon beat the other boys; at which the master of the school 
was much pleased, and offered to teach him for nothing.1 His mother, 
therefore, sent him regularly, making what trifling presents she could to the 
master; and by the end of two or three years he had a first-rate knowledge of 
the Sacred Books.2 

One day he came home and asked his mother, saying, All the fellows 
at our school get money from their fathers to buy cakes. [p. 184] Why dont 
I? Wait till you are grown up, replied his mother, and I will explain it to 
you. Why, mother, cried he, Im only seven or eight years old. What a 
time it will be before Im grown up. Whenever you pass the temple of the 
God of War on your way to school, said his mother, you should go in and 
pray awhile; that would make you grow faster. Ta-nan believed she was 
serious; and every day, going and coming, he went in and worshipped at that 
temple. When his mother found this out, she asked him how soon he was 
praying to be grown up; to which he replied that he only prayed that by the 
following year he might be as big as if he were fifteen or sixteen years old. 
His mother laughed; but Ta-nan went on, increasing in wisdom and stature 
alike, until by the time he was ten he looked quite thirteen or fourteen, and 
his master was no longer able to correct his essays. 

Then he said to his mother, You promised me that when I grew up 
you would tell me where my father is. Tell me now. By-and-by, by-and-by, 
replied his mother; so he waited another year, and then pressed her so 
eagerly to tell him that she could no longer refuse, and related to him the 
whole story. He heard her recital with tears and lamentations, and expressed 
a wish to go in search of his father; but his mother objected that he was too 
young, and also that no one knew where his father was. Ta-nan said nothing; 
however, in the middle of the day he did not come home as usual, and his 
mother at once sent off to the school, where she found he had not shown 
himself since breakfast. In great alarm, and thinking that he had been 
playing truant, she paid some people to go and hunt for him everywhere, but 
was unable to obtain the slightest clue to his whereabouts. 

As to Ta-nan himself, when he left the house he followed the road 
without knowing whither he was going, until at length he met a man who 
was on his way to Kuei-chou, and said his name was Chien. Ta-nan begged 
of him something to eat, and went along with him; Mr. Chien even procuring 
an animal for him to ride because be walked too slowly. The expenses of the 
journey were all defrayed by Chien; and when they arrived at Kuei-chou 
they dined together, Chien secretly putting some drug in Ta-nans food 
which soon reduced him to a state of unconsciousness. Chien then carried 
him off to a temple, and, pretending [p. 185] that Ta-nan was his son, 
offered him to the priests[3] on the plea that he had no money to continue 
his journey. The priests, seeing what a nice-looking boy he was, were only 
too ready to buy him; and when Chien had got his money he went away. 
They then gave Ta-nan a draught which brought him round; but as soon as 
the abbot heard of the affair and saw Ta-nan himself, he would not allow 


them to keep him, sending him away with a purse of money in his pocket. 

Ta-nan next met a gentleman named Chiang, from Lu-chou, who was 
returning home after having failed at the examination; and this Mr. Chiang 
was so pleased with the story of his filial piety that he took him to his own 
home at Lu-chou. There he remained for a month and more, asking 
everybody he saw for news of his father, until one day he was told that there 
was a man named Hsi among the Fokien traders. So he bade good-bye to Mr. 
Chiang, and set off for Fokien, his patron providing him with clothes and 
shoes, and the people of the place making up a subscription for him. 

On the road he met two traders in cotton cloth who were going to Fu-
ching, and he joined their party; but they had not travelled many stages 
before these men found out that he had money, and taking him to a lonely 
spot, bound him hand and foot and made off with all he had. Before long a 
Mr. Chen, of Yung-fu, happened to pass by, and at once unbound him, and 
giving him a seat in one of his own vehicles, carried him off home. This Mr. 
Chen was a wealthy man, and in his house Ta-nan had opportunities of 
meeting with traders from all quarters. He therefore begged them to aid him 
by making inquiries about his father, himself remaining as a fellow student 
with Mr. Chens sons, and roaming the country no more, neither hearing 
any news of his former and now distant home. 

Meanwhile, his mother, Ho, had lived alone for three or four years, 
until the wife, Shn, wishing to reduce the expenses, tried to persuade her to 
find another husband. As Ho was now supporting herself, she steadfastly 
refused to do this; and then Shn sold her to a Chung-ching trader, who 
took her away with him. However, she so frightened this man by hacking 
herself about with a knife, that when the wounds were healed he was only 
too happy to get rid [p. 186] of her to a trader from Yen-ting, who in his turn, 
after Ho had nearly disembowelled herself, readily listened to her repeated 
cries that she wished to become a nun. However, he persuaded her to hire 
herself out as housekeeper to a friend of his, as a means of reimbursing 
himself for his outlay in purchasing her; but no sooner had she set eyes on 
the gentleman in question than she found it was her own husband. 

For Hsi had given up the career of a scholar, and gone into business; 
and as he had no wife, he was consequently in want of a housekeeper. They 
were very glad to see each other again; and on relating their several 
adventures, Hsi knew for the first time that he had a son who had gone forth 
in search of his father. Hsi then asked all the traders and commercial 
travellers to keep a look-out for Ta-nan, at the same time raising Ho from the 
status of concubine to that of wife. In consequence, however, of the many 
hardships Ho had gone through, her health was anything but good, and she 
was unable to do the work of the house; so she advised her husband to buy 
a concubine. This he was most unwilling to do, remembering too well the 
former squabbling he had to endure; but ultimately he yielded, asked a 
friend to buy for him an oldish womanat any rate more than thirty years of 
age. A few months afterwards his friend arrived, bringing with him a person 
of about that age; and, on looking closely at her, Hsi saw that she was no 
other than his own wife Shn. 

Now this lady had lived by herself for a year and more when her 
brother Pao advised her to marry again, which she accordingly agreed to do. 
She was prevented, however; by the younger branches of the family from 
selling the landed property; but she disposed of everything else, and the 


proceeds passed into her brothers hands. About that time a Pao-ning trader, 
hearing that she had plenty of money, bribed her brother to marry her to 
himself; and afterwards, finding that she was a disagreeable woman, took 
possession of everything she had, and advertised her for sale. No one caring 
to buy a woman of her age, and her master being on the eve of starting for 
Kuei-chou, took her with him, finally getting rid of her to Hsi, who was in 
the same line of business as himself. 

When she stood before her former husband, she was overwhelmed 
with shame and fear, and had not a word to say; but Hsi gathered an [p. 187] 
outline of what had happened from the trader, and then said to her, Your 
second marriage with this Pao-ning gentleman was doubtless contracted 
after you had given up all hope of seeing me again. It doesnt matter in the 
least, as now I am not in search of a wife but only of a concubine. So you 
had better begin by paying your respects to your mistress here, my wife Ho 
Chao-jung. Shn was ashamed to do this: but Hsi reminded her of the time 
when she had been in the wifes place, and in spite of all Hos intercession 
insisted that she should do so, stimulating her to obedience by the smart 
application of a stick. Shn was therefore compelled to yield, but at the same 
time she never tried to gain Hos favour, and kept away from her as much as 
possible. Ho, on the other hand, treated her with great consideration, and 
never took her to task on the performance of her duties; whilst Hsi himself, 
whenever he had a dinner-party, made her wait at table, though Ho often 
entreated him to hire a maid. 

Now the magistrate at Yen-ting was named Chen Tsung-ss, and 
once when Hsi had some trifling difficulty with one of the neighbours he was 
further accused to this official of having forced his wife to assume the 
position of concubine. The magistrate, however, refused to take up the case, 
to the great satisfaction of Hsi and his wife, who lauded him to the skies as a 
virtuous mandarin. A few nights after, at rather a late hour, the servant 
knocked at their door, and called out, The magistrate has come! Hsi 
jumped up in a hurry, and began looking for his clothes and shoes; but the 
magistrate was already in their bedroom without either of them 
understanding what it all meant: when suddenly Ho, examining him closely, 
cried out, It is my son! She then burst into tears, and the magistrate, 
throwing himself on the ground, wept with his mother. 

It seemed he had taken the name of the gentleman with whom he had 
lived, and had since entered upon an official career. That on his way to the 
capital[4] he had made a detour and visited his old home, where he heard to 
his infinite sorrow that both his mothers had married again; and that his 
relatives, finding him already a man of position, had restored to him the 
family property, of which he had left some one in charge in the hope that his 
father might return. That [p. 188] then he had been appointed to Yen-ting, 
but had wished to throw up the post and travel in search of his father, from 
which design he had been dissuaded by Mr. Chen. Also that he had met a 
fortune-teller from whom he obtained the following response to his inquiries: 
The lesser is the greater; the younger is the elder. Seeking the cock, you 
find the hen; seeking one, you get two. Your official life will be successful. 

Chen then took up his appointment, but not finding his father he 
confined himself entirely to a vegetable diet, and gave up the use of wine.5 
The above-mentioned case had subsequently come under his notice, and 
seeing the name Hsi, he quietly sent his private servant to find out, and thus 
discovered that this Hsi was his father. At nightfall he set off himself, and 


when he saw his mother he knew that the fortune-teller had told him true. 

Bidding them all say nothing to anybody about what had occurred, he 
provided money for the journey, and sent them back home. On arriving there, 
they found the place newly painted, and with their increased retinue of 
servants and horses, they were quite a wealthy family. 

As to Shn, when she found what a great man Ta-nan had become, 
she put still more restraint upon herself; but her brother Pao brought an 
action for the purpose of reinstating her as wife. The presiding official 
happened to be a man of probity, and delivered the following judgment:
Greedy of gain, you urged your sister to remarry. After she had driven Hsi 
away, she took two fresh husbands. How have you the face to talk about 
reinstating her as wife? He thereupon ordered Pao to be severely bambooed, 
and from this time there was no longer any doubt about Shns status. She 
was the lesser and Ho the greater; and yet in the matter of clothes and food 
Ho showed herself by no means grasping. Shn was at first afraid that Ho 
would pay her out, and was consequently more than ever repentant; and Hsi 
himself, letting bygones be bygones, gave orders that Shn should be called 
madam by all alike, though of course she was excluded from any titles that 
might be gained for them by Ta-nan.6 

 

1 This is by no means uncommon. The debt of gratitude between 
pupil and teacher is second only to that existing between child and parent; 
and a successful student soon has it in his power to more than repay any 
such act of kindness as that here mentioned. 

2 Which form the unvarying curriculum of a Chinese education. 
These are (1) the Four Books, consisting of the teachings of Confucius and 
Mencius; and (2) the Five Canons (in the ecclesiastical sense of the word) or 
the Canons of Changes, History, Poetry, the Record of Rites, and Spring and 
Autumn. 

3 See No. XXIII., note 10. 

4 To be presented to the Emperor before taking up his post. 

5 Hoping thus to interest Buddha in his behalf. 

6 In accordance with Chinese usage, by which titles of nobility are 
often conferred upon the dead parents of a distinguished son. [p. 189] 

XLII. THE WONDERFUL STONE 

IN the prefecture of Shun-tien there lived a man named Hsing Yn-fei, 
who was an amateur mineralogist and would pay any price for a good 
specimen. One day as he was fishing in the river, something caught his net, 
and diving down he brought up a stone about a foot in diameter, beautifully 
carved on all sides to resemble clustering hills and peaks. He was quite as 
pleased with this as if he had found some precious stone; and having had an 
elegant sandal-wood stand made for it, he set his prize upon the table. 
Whenever it was about to rain, clouds, which from a distance looked like 
new cotton-wool, would come forth from each of the holes or grottoes on the 
stone, and appear to close them up. 

By-and-by an influential personage called at the house and begged to 
see the stone, immediately seizing it and handing it over to a lusty servant, 


at the same time whipping his horse and riding away. Hsing was in despair; 
but all he could do was to mourn the loss of his stone, and indulge his anger 
against the thief. Meanwhile, the servant, who had carried off the stone on 
his back, stopped to rest at a bridge; when all of a sudden his hand slipped 
and the stone fell into the water. His master was extremely put out at this, 
and gave him a sound beating; subsequently hiring several divers, who tried 
every means in their power to recover the stone, but were quite unable to 
find it. He then went away, having first published a notice of reward, and by 
these means many were tempted to seek for the stone. 

Soon after, Hsing himself came to the spot, and as he mournfully 
approached the bank, lo the water became clear, and he could see the stone 
lying at the bottom. Taking off his clothes, he quickly jumped in and brought 
it out, together with the sandal-wood stand, which was still with it. He 
carried it off home, but being no longer desirous of showing it to people, he 
had an inner room cleaned and put it in there. 

Some time afterwards an old man knocked at the door and asked to 
be allowed to see the stone; whereupon Hsing replied that he had lost it a 
long time ago. Isnt that it in the [p. 190] inner room? said the old man 
smiling. Oh, walk in and see for yourself if you dont believe me, answered 
Hsing; and the old man did walk in, and there was the stone on the table. 
This took Hsing very much aback; and the old man then laid his hand upon 
the stone and said, This is an old family relic of mine: I lost it many months 
since. How does it come to be here? I pray you now restore it to me. Hsing 
didnt know what to say, but declared he was the owner of the stone; upon 
which the old man remarked, If it is really yours, what evidence can you 
bring to prove it? Hsing made no reply; and the old man continued, To 
show you that I know this stone, I may mention that it has altogether 
ninety-two grottoes, and that in the largest of these are five words: 

A stone from Heaven above. 

 

Hsing looked and found that there were actually some small 
characters, no larger than grains of rice, which by straining his eyes a little 
he managed to read; also, that the number of grottoes was as the old man 
had said. However, he would not give him the stone; and the old man 
laughed, and asked, Pray, what right have you to keep other peoples 
things? He then bowed and went away, Hsing escorting him as far as the 
door; but when he returned to the room, the stone had disappeared. In a 
great fright, he ran after the old man, who had walked slowly and was not 
far off, and seizing his sleeve entreated him to give back the stone. Do you 
think, said the latter, that I could conceal a stone a foot in diameter in my 
sleeve? 

But Hsing knew that he must be superhuman, and led him back to 
the house, where he threw himself on his knees and begged that he might 
have the stone. Is it yours or mine? asked the old man. Of course it is 
yours, replied Hsing, though I hope you will consent to deny yourself the 
pleasure of keeping it. In that case, said the old man, it is back again; 
and going into the inner room, they found the stone in its old place. The 
jewels of this world, observed Hsings visitor, should be given to those who 
know how to take care of them. This stone can choose its own master, and I 
am very pleased that it should remain with you; at the same time I must 
inform you that it was in too great a hurry to come into [p. 191] the world of 
mortals, and has not yet been freed from all contingent calamities. I had 


better take it away with me, and three years hence you shall have it again. If, 
however, you insist on keeping it, then your span of life will be shortened by 
three years, that your terms of existence may harmonise together. Are you 
willing? Hsing said he was; whereupon the old man with his fingers closed 
up three of the stones grottoes, which yielded to his touch like mud. When 
this was done, he turned to Hsing and told him that the grottoes on that 
stone represented the years of his life; and then he took his leave, firmly 
refusing to remain any longer, and not disclosing his name. 

More than a year after this, Hsing had occasion to go away on 
business, and in the night a thief broke in and carried off the stone, taking 
nothing else at all. When Hsing came home, he was dreadfully grieved, as if 
his whole object in life was gone; and made all possible inquiries and efforts 
to get it back, but without the slightest result. Some time passed away, 
when one day going into a temple Hsing noticed a man selling stones, and 
amongst the rest he saw his old friend. Of course he immediately wanted to 
regain possession of it; but as the stone-seller would not consent, he 
shouldered the stone and went off to the nearest mandarin. The stone-seller 
was then asked what proof he could give that the stone was his; and he 
replied that the number of grottoes was eighty-nine. Hsing inquired if that 
was all he had to say, and when the other acknowledged that it was, he 
himself told the magistrate what were the characters inscribed within, also 
calling attention to the finger marks at the closed-up grottoes. He therefore 
gained his case, and the mandarin would have bambooed the stone-seller, 
had he not declared that he bought it in the market for twenty ounces of 
silver,whereupon he was dismissed. 

A high official next offered Hsing one hundred ounces of silver for it; 
but he refused to sell it even for ten thousand, which so enraged the would-
be purchaser that he worked up a case against Hsing,2 and got him put in 
prison. Hsing was thereby compelled to pawn a great deal of his property; [p. 
192] and then the official sent some one to try if the affair could not be 
managed through his son, to which Hsing, on hearing of the attempt, 
steadily refused to consent, saying that he and the stone could not be parted 
even in death. His wife, however, and his son, laid their heads together, and 
sent the stone to the high official, and Hsing only heard of it when he arrived 
home from the prison. He cursed his wife and beat his son, and frequently 
tried to make away with himself, though luckily his servants always 
managed to prevent him from succeeding.3 

At night he dreamt that a noble-looking personage appeared to him, 
and said, My name is Shih Ching-hs(Stone from Heaven). Do not grieve. 
I purposely quitted you for a year and more; but next year on the 20th of the 
eighth moon, at dawn, come to the Hai-tai Gate and buy me back for two 
strings of cash. Hsing was overjoyed at this dream, and carefully took down 
the day mentioned. Meanwhile the stone was at the officials private house; 
but as the cloud manifestations ceased, the stone was less and less prized; 
and the following year when the official was disgraced for maladministration 
and subsequently died, Hsing met some of his servants at the Hai-tai Gate 
going off to sell the stone, and purchased it back from them for two strings 
of cash. 

Hsing lived till he was eighty-nine; and then having prepared the 
necessaries for his interment, bade his son bury the stone with him,4 which 
was accordingly done. Six months later robbers broke into the vault[5] and 
made off with the stone, and his son tried in vain to secure their capture; 


however, a few days afterwards, he was travelling with his servants, when 
suddenly two men rushed forth dripping with perspiration, and looking up 
into the air, [p. 193] acknowledged their crime, saying, Mr. Hsing, please 
dont torment us thus! We took the stone, and sold it for only four ounces of 
silver. Hsings son and his servants then seized these men, and took them 
before the magistrate, where they at once acknowledged their guilt. Asking 
what had become of the stone, they said they had sold it to a member of the 
magistrates family; and when it was produced, that official took such a 
fancy to it that he gave it to one of his servants and bade him place it in the 
treasury. Thereupon the stone slipped out of the servants hand and broke 
into a hundred pieces, to the great astonishment of all present. The 
magistrate now had the thieves bambooed and sent them away; but Hsings 
son picked up the broken pieces of the stone, and buried them in his fathers 
grave. 

 

1 In which Peking is situated. 

2 A common form of revenge in China, and one which is easily carried 
through when the prosecutor is a man of wealth and influence. 

3 Another favourite method of revenging oneself upon an enemy, who 
is in many cases held responsible for the death thus occasioned. The late Sir 
C. Alabaster told me an amusing story of a Chinese woman who deliberately 
walked into a pond until the water reached her knees, and remained there 
alternately putting her lips below the surface and threatening in a loud voice 
to drown herself on the spot, as life had been made unbearable by the 
presence of foreign barbarians. This was during the Taiping rebellion. 

4 Valuables of some kind or other are often placed in the coffins of 
wealthy Chinese; and women are almost always provided with a certain 
quantity of jewels with which to adorn themselves in the realms below. 

5 One of the most heinous offences in the Chinese Penal Code. 

XLIII. THE QUARRELSOME BROTHERS 

AT Kun-yang there lived a wealthy man named Tsng. When he died, 
and before he was put in the coffin, tears were seen to gush forth from both 
eyes of the corpse, to the infinite amazement of his six sons. His second son, 
Ti, otherwise called Yu-y, who had gained for himself the reputation of 
being a scholar, said it was a bad omen, and warned his brothers to be 
careful and not give cause for sorrow to the dead,at which the others only 
laughed at him as an idiot. 

Tsngs first wife and eldest son having been carried off by the rebels 
when the latter was only seven or eight years old, he married a second wife, 
by whom he had three sons, Hsiao, Chung, and Hsin; besides three other 
sons by a concubinenamely, the above-mentioned Ti, or Yu-y, Jen, and 
Yi. Now the three by the second wife banded themselves together against the 
three by the concubine, saying that the latter were a base-born lot; and 
whenever a guest was present and either of them happened to be in the 
room, Hsiao and his two brothers would not take the slightest notice of them. 
This enraged Jen and Yi very much, and they went to consult with Yu-y as 
to how they should avenge themselves for such slights. Yu-y, however, tried 
every means in his power to pacify them, and [p. 194] would not take part in 


any plot; and, as they were much younger than he, they took his advice,1 
and did nothing. 

Hsiao had a daughter, who died shortly after her marriage to a Mr. 
Chou; and her father begged Yu-y and his other brothers to go with him 
and give his late daughters mother-in-law a sound beating.2 Yu-y would 
not hear of it for a moment; so Hsiao in a rage got his brothers Chung and 
Hsin, with a lot of rowdies from the neighbourhood, and went off and did it 
themselves, scattering the goods and chattels of the family about, and 
smashing everything they could lay their hands on. An action was 
immediately brought by the Chou family, and Hsiao and his two brothers 
were thrown into prison by the angry mandarin, who purposed sending the 
case before a higher tribunal. Yu-y, however, whose high character was 
well known to that official, interceded for them, and himself went to the 
Chou family and tendered the most humble apologies, for what had occurred. 
The Chou family, out of respect for Yu-y, suffered the case to drop, and 
Hsiao regained his liberty, though he did not evince the slightest gratitude 
for his brothers exertions. 

Shortly after, Yu-ys mother died; but Hsiao and the other two 
refused to put on mourning for her, going on with their usual feasting and 
drinking as if nothing had happened. Jen and Yi were furious at this; but 
Yu-y only observed, What they do is their own indecorous behaviour; it 
does not injure us. Then, again, when the funeral was about to take place, 
Hsiao, Chung, and Hsin stood before the door of the vault, and would not 
allow the others to bury their mother there. So Yu-y buried her alongside 
the principal grave. Before long Hsiaos wife died, and Yu-y told Jen and Yi 
to accompany him to the house [p. 195] and condole with the widower to 
which they both objected, saying, He would not wear mourning for our 
mother; shall we do so for his wife?3 

Ultimately Yu-y had to go alone; and while he was pouring forth his 
lamentations beside the bier, he heard Jen and Yi playing drums and 
trumpets outside the door. Hsiao flew into a tremendous passion, and went 
after them with his own two brothers to give them a good thrashing. Yu-y, 
too, seized a big stick and accompanied them to the house where Jen and Yi 
were; whereupon Jen made his escape; but as Yi was clambering over the 
wall, Yu-y hit him from behind and knocked him down. Hsiao and the 
others then set upon him with their fists and sticks, and would never have 
stopped but that Yu-y interposed his body between them and made them 
desist. Hsiao was very angry at this, and began to abuse Yu-y, who said, 
The punishment was for want of decorum, for which death would be too 
severe. I can neither connive at their bad behaviour, nor at your cruelty. If 
your anger is not appeased, strike me. Hsiao now turned his fury against 
Yu-y, and being well seconded by his two brothers, they beat Yu-y until 
the neighbours separated them and put an end to the row. 

Yu-y at once proceeded to Hsiaos house to apologise for what had 
occurred but Hsiao drove him away, and would not let him take part in the 
funeral ceremonies. Meanwhile, as Yis wounds were very severe, and he 
could neither eat nor drink, his brother Jen went on his behalf to the 
magistrate, stating in the petition that the accused had not worn mourning 
for their fathers concubine. The magistrate issued a warrant; and, besides 
causing the arrest of Hsiao, Chung, and Hsin, he ordered Yu-y to prosecute 
them as well. Yu-y, however, was so much cut about the head and face 
that he could not appear in court, but he wrote out a petition, in which he 


begged that the case might be quashed; and this the magistrate consented to 
do. 

Yi soon got better, the feeling of hatred and resentment increasing in 
the family day by day; while Jen and Yi, who were younger than the others, 
complained to Yu-y of their recent punishment, saying, The relationship of 
elder and younger [p. 196] brothers exists for others, why not for us? Ah, 
replied Yu-y, that is what I might well say; not you. Yu-y then tried to 
persuade them to forget the past; but, not succeeding in his attempt, he 
shut up his house, and went off with his wife to live somewhere else, about 
twenty miles away. Now, although when Yu-y was among them he did not 
help the two younger ones, yet his presence acted as some restraint upon 
Hsiao and the other two; but now that he was gone their conduct was 
beyond all bounds. They sought out Jen and Yi in their own houses, and not 
only reviled them, but abused the memory of their dead mother, against 
which Jen and Yi could only retaliate by keeping the door shut against them. 
However, they determined to do them some injury, and carried knives about 
with them wherever they went for that purpose. 

One day the eldest brother, Chng, who had been carried off by the 
rebels, returned with his wife; and, after three days deliberation, Hsiao and 
the other two determined that, as he had been so long separated from the 
family, he had no further claims upon them for house-room, &c. Jen and Yi 
were secretly delighted at this result, and at once inviting Chng to stay 
with them, sent news of his arrival to Yu-y, who came back directly, and 
agreed with the others to hand over a share of the property to their elder 
brother. 

Hsiao and his clique were much enraged at this purchase of Chngs 
goodwill, and, hurrying to their brothers houses, assailed them with every 
possible kind of abuse. Chng, who had long been accustomed to scenes of 
violence among the rebels, now got into a great passion, and cried out, 
When I came home none of you would give me a place to live in. Only these 
younger ones recognised the ties of blood,4 and you would punish them for 
so doing. Do you think to drive me away? Thereupon he threw a stone at 
Hsiao and knocked him down; and Jen and Yi rushed out with clubs and 
gave the three of them a severe thrashing. Chng did not wait for them to 
lay a plaint, but set off to the magistrate on the spot, and preferred a charge 
against his three brothers. The magistrate, as before, [p. 197] sent for Yu-y 
to ask his opinion, and Yu-y had no alternative but to go, entering the 
yamn with downcast head, his tears flowing in silence all the while. The 
magistrate inquired of him how the matter stood; to which he replied only by 
begging His Honour to hear the case which the magistrate accordingly did, 
deciding that the whole of the property was to be divided equally among the 
seven brothers. 

Thenceforth Jen and Yi became more and more attached to Chng; 
and one day, in conversation, they happened to tell him the story of their 
mothers funeral. Chng was exceedingly angry, and declared that such 
behaviour was that of brute beasts, proposing at the same time that the 
vault should be opened and that she should be re-buried in the proper place. 
Jen and Yi went off and told this to Yu-y, who immediately came and 
begged Chng to desist from his scheme; to which, however, he paid no 
attention, and fixed a day for her interment in the family vault. He then built 
a hut near by, and, with a knife lopping the branches off the trees, informed 
the brothers that any of them who did not appear at the funeral in the usual 


mourning would be treated by him in a manner similar to the trees. So they 
were all obliged to go, and the obsequies were conducted in a fitting manner. 

The brothers were now at peace together, Chng keeping them in 
first-rate order, and always treating Hsiao, Chung, and Hsin with much 
more severity than the others. To Yu-y he showed a marked deference, and, 
whenever he was in a rage, would always be appeased by a word from him. 
Hsiao, too, was always going to Yu-y to complain of the treatment he 
received at Chngs hands when he did anything that Chng disapproved of; 
and then, if Yu-y quietly reproved him, he would be dissatisfied, so that at 
last Yu-y could stand it no longer, and again went away and took a house 
at a considerable distance, where he remained almost entirely cut off from 
the others. 

By the time two years had passed away Chng had completely 
succeeded in establishing harmony amongst them, and quarrels were of rare 
occurrence. Hsiao was then forty-six years old, and had five sons; Chi-yeh 
and Chi-t, the first and third, by his wife; Chi-kung and Chi-chi, the second 
and fourth, by a concubine; and Chi-tsu, by a slave. They were [p. 198] all 
grown up, and exactly imitated their fathers former behaviour, banding 
themselves together one against the other, and so on, without their father 
being able to make them behave better. Chi-tsu had no brothers of his own, 
and, being the youngest, the others bullied him dreadfully; until at length, 
being on a visit to his wifes family, who lived not far from Yu-ys house, he 
went slightly out of his way to call and see his uncle. There he found his 
three cousins living peaceably together and pursuing their studies, and was 
so pleased that he remained with them some time, and said not a word as to 
returning home. His uncle urged him to go back, but he entreated to be 
allowed to stay and then his uncle told him it was not that he grudged his 
daily food: it was because his father and mother did not know where he was. 
Chi-tsu accordingly went home, and a few months afterwards, when he and 
his wife were on the point of starting to congratulate his wifes mother on the 
anniversary of her birthday, he explained to his father that he should not 
come home again. When his father asked him why not, he partly divulged 
his reasons for going; whereupon his father said he was afraid his uncle 
would bear malice for what happened in the past, and that he would not be 
able to remain there long. Father, replied Chi-tsu, uncle Yu-y is a good 
and virtuous man. He set out with his wife, and when they arrived Yu-y 
gave them separate quarters, and made Chi-tsu rank as one of his own sons, 
making him join the eldest, Chi-san, in his studies. Chi-tsu was a clever 
fellow, and now enrolled himself as a resident of the place where his uncle 
lived.5 

Meanwhile, his brothers went on quarrelling among themselves as 
usual; and one day Chi-kung, enraged at an insult offered to his mother, 
killed Chi-yeh. He was immediately thrown into prison, where he was 
severely bambooed, and in a few days he died. Chi-yehs wife, whose maiden 
name was Fng, now spent the days of mourning in cursing her husbands 
murderer; and when Chi-kungs wife heard this, she flew into a towering 
passion, and said to her, If your husband is dead, mine isnt [p. 199] alive. 
She then drew a knife and killed her, completing the tragedy by herself 
committing suicide in a well. 

Mr. Fng, the father of the murdered woman, was very much 
distressed at his daughters untimely end; and, taking with him several 
members of the family with arms concealed under their clothes, they 


proceeded to Hsiaos house, and there gave his wife a most terrific beating. It 
was now Chngs turn to be angry. The members of my family are dying like 
sheep, cried he,  what do you mean by this, Mr. Fng? He then rushed out 
upon them with a roar, accompanied by all his own brothers and their sons; 
and the Fng family was utterly routed. Seizing old Fng himself, Chng cut 
off both his ears; and when his son tried to rescue him, Chi-chi ran up and 
broke both his legs with an iron crowbar. Every one of the Fng family was 
badly wounded, and thus dispersed, leaving old Fngs son lying in the 
middle of the road. The others not knowing what to do with him, Chng took 
him under his arm, and having thrown him down in the Fng village, 
returned home, giving orders to Chi-Chi to go immediately to the authorities 
and enter their plaint the first.6 

The Fng family had, however, anticipated them, and all the Tsngs 
were accordingly thrown into prison, except Chung, who managed to escape. 
He ran away to the place where Yu-y lived, and was pacing backwards and 
forwards before the door, afraid lest his brother should not have forgiven 
past offences, when suddenly Yu-y, with his son and nephew, arrived on 
their return from the examination. What do you want, my brother? asked 
Yu-y; whereupon Chung prostrated himself at the road-side, and then Yu-
y, seizing his hand, led him within to make further inquiries. Alas! alas! 
cried Yu-y, when he had heard the story, I knew that some dreadful 
calamity would be the result of all this wicked behaviour. But why have you 
come hither? I have been absent so long that I am no more acquainted with 
the local authorities; and if I now went to ask a favour of them, I should 
probably only be insulted for my pains. However, if none of the Fng family 
die of their wounds, and [p. 200] if we three may chance to be successful in 
our examination, something may perhaps be done to mitigate this 
calamity.7 Yu-y then kept Chung to dinner, and at night he shared their 
room, which kind treatment made him at once grateful and repentant. By 
the end of ten days he was so struck with the behaviour of the father, sons, 
uncle, nephew, and cousins, one towards the other, that he burst into tears, 
and said, Now I know how badly I behaved in days gone by. His brother 
was overjoyed at his repentance, and sympathised with his feelings, when 
suddenly it was announced that Yu-y and his son had both passed the 
examination for masters degree, and that Chi-tsu was proxime accessit. This 
delighted them all very much. They did not, however, attend the Fu-tais 
congratulatory feast,8 but went off first to worship at the tombs of their 
ancestors. 

Now, at the time of the Ming dynasty a man who had taken his 
masters degree was a very considerable personage,9 and the Fngs 
accordingly began to draw in their horns. Yu-y, too, met them half-way. He 
got a friend to convey to them presents of food and money to help them in 
recovering from their injuries, and thus the prosecution was withdrawn. 
Then all his brothers implored him with tears in their eyes to return home, 
and, after burning incense with them,10 and making them enter into a bond 
with him that bygones should be bygones, he acceded to their request. Chi-
tsu, however, would not leave his uncle and Hsiao himself said to Yu-y, I 
dont deserve such a son as that. Keep him, and teach him as you have done 
hitherto, and let him be as one of your own children but if at some future 
time he succeeds [p. 201] in his examination, then I will beg you to return 
him to me. Yu-y consented to this; and three years afterwards Chi-tsu did 
take his masters degree, upon which he sent him back to his own family. 


Both husband and wife were very loth to leave their uncles house, 
and they had hardly been at home three days before one of their children, 
only three years old, ran away and went back, returning to his great-uncles 
as often as he was recaptured. This induced Hsiao to remove to the next 
house to Yu-ys, and, by opening a door between the two, they made one 
establishment of the whole. Chng was now getting old, and the family 
affairs devolved entirely upon Yu-y, who managed things so well that their 
reputation for filial piety and fraternal love was soon spread far and wide. 

 

1 Deference to elder brothers is held by the Chinese to be second only 
in importance to filial piety. 

2 In a volume of Chinese Sketches, published by me in 1876, occur (p. 
129) the following words: Occasionally, a young wife is driven to commit 
suicide by the harshness of her mother-in-law, but this is of rare occurrence, 
as the consequences are terrible to the family of the guilty woman. The 
blood-relatives of the deceased repair to the chamber of death, and in the inj 
ured victims hand they place a broom. They then suppprt the corpse round 
the room, making its dead arm move the broom from side to side, and thus 
sweep away wealth, happiness, and longevity from the accursed place for 
ever. 

3 A wife being an infinitely less important personage than a mother in 
the Chinese social scale. 

4 Literally, of hand and foot, to the mutual dependence of which that 
of brothers is frequently likened by the Chinese. 

5 Any permanent change of residence must be notified to the District 
Magistrate, who keeps a running census of all persons within his 
jurisdiction. 

6 To be thus beforehand with ones adversary is regarded as prima 
facie evidence of being in the right. 

7 By means of the status which a graduate of the second degree 
would necessarily have. 

8 A sham entertainment given by the Fu-tai, or governor, to all the 
successful candidates. I say sham, because the whole thing is merely 
nominal; a certain amount of food is contracted for, but there is never 
anything fit to eat, most of the money being embezzled by the underlings to 
whose management the banquet is entrusted. 

9 Much more so than at present. 

10 Thereby invoking the Gods as witnesses. A common method of 
making up a quarrel in China is to send the aggrieved party an olive and a 
piece of red paper in token that peace is restored. Why the olive should be 
specially employed I have in vain tried to ascertain. 

XLIV. THE YOUNG GENTLEMAN WHO COULDNT SPELL[1] 

AT Chia-ping there lived a certain young gentleman of considerable 
talent and very prepossessing appearance. When seventeen years of age he 
went up for his bachelors degree; and as he was passing the door of a house, 
he saw within a pretty-looking girl, who not only riveted his gaze, but also 
smiled and nodded her head at him. Quite pleased at this, he approached 


the young lady and began to talk, she, meanwhile, inquiring of him where he 
lived, and if alone or otherwise. He assured her he was quite by himself; and 
then she said, Well, I will come and see you, but you mustnt let any one 
know. The young gentleman agreed, and when he got home he sent all the 
servants to another part of the house, and by-and-by the young lady arrived. 
She said her name was Wn-chi, and that her admiration for her hosts 
noble bearing had made her visit him, unknown to her mistress. And 
gladly, added she, would I be your handmaid for life. Our hero was 
delighted, and proposed to purchase her from the mistress she mentioned; 
and from this time she was in the habit of coming in every other day or so. [p. 
202] On one occasion it was raining hard, and, after hanging up her wet 
cloak upon a peg, she took off her shoes, and bade the young gentleman 
clean them for her. He noticed that they were newly embroidered with all the 
colours of the rainbow, but utterly spoilt by the soaking rain; and was just 
saying what a pity it was, when the young lady cried out, I should never 
have asked you to do such menial work except to show my love for you. All 
this time the rain was falling fast outside, and Wn-chi now repeated the 
following line: 

A nipping wind, and chilly rain fill the river and the city. 

 

There, said she, cap that. The young gentleman replied that he 
could not, as he did not even understand what it meant. Oh, really, 
retorted the young lady, if youre not more of a scholar than that, I shall 
begin to think very little of you. She then told him he had better practise 
making verses, and he promised he would do so. 

By degrees Miss Wn-chis frequent visits attracted the notice of the 
servants, as also of a brother-in-law named Sung, who was likewise a 
gentleman of position; and the latter begged our hero to be allowed to have a 
peep at her. He was told in reply that the young lady had strictly forbidden 
that any one should see her; however, he concealed himself in the servants 
quarters, and when she arrived he looked at her through the window. Almost 
beside himself, he now opened the door; whereupon Wn-chi, jumping up, 
vaulted over the wall and disappeared. Sung was really smitten with her, 
and went off to her mistress to try and arrange for her purchase; but when 
he mentioned Wn-chis name, he was informed that they had once had 
such a girl, who had died several years previously. In great amazement Sung 
went back and told his brother-in-law, and he now knew that his beloved 
Wen-chi was a disembodied spirit. So when she came again he asked her if it 
was so; to which she replied, It is; but as you wanted a nice wife and I a 
handsome husband, I thought we should be a suitable pair. What matters it 
that one is a mortal and the other a spirit? 

The young gentleman thoroughly coincided in her view of the case; 
and when his examination was over, and he [p. 203] was homeward bound, 
Wn-chi accompanied him, invisible to others and visible to him alone. 
Arriving at his parents house, he installed her in the library; and the day 
she went to pay the customary brides visit to her father and mother,2 he 
told his own mother the whole story. She and his father were greatly 
alarmed, and ordered him to have no more to do with her; but he would not 
listen to this, and then his parents tried by all kinds of devices to get rid of 
the girl, none of which met with any success. 

One day our hero had left upon the table some written instructions 
for one of the servants, wherein he had made a number of mistakes in 


spelling, such as paper for pepper, jinjer for ginger, and so on; and when 
Wn-chi saw this, she wrote at the foot: 

Paper for pepper do I see? 

Jinjer for gingercan it be? 

Of such a husband Im afraid; 

Id rather be a servant-maid. 

 

She then said to the young gentleman, Imagining you to be a man of 
culture, I hid my blushes and sought you out the first.3 Alas, your 
qualifications are on the outside; should I not thus be a laughing-stock to 
all? She then disappeared, at which the young gentleman was much hurt; 
but not knowing to what she alluded, he gave the instructions to his servant, 
and so made himself the butt of all who heard the story. 

 

1 Of course there is no such thing as spelling, in our sense of the 
term, in Chinese. But characters are frequently written with too many or too 
few strokes, and may thus be said to be incorrectly spelt. 

2 A ceremonial visit made on the third day after marriage. 

3 Contrary to all Chinese notions of modesty and etiquette. 

XLV. THE TIGER GUEST 

A YOUNG man named Kung, a native of Min-chou, on his way to the 
examination at Hsi-ngan, rested awhile in an inn, and ordered some wine to 
drink. Just then a very tall and noble-looking stranger walked in, and, 
seating himself by the side of Kung, entered into conversation with him. 
Kung offered him a cup of wine, which the stranger did not refuse; saying, at 
the same time, that his name was Miao. But he was a rough, coarse fellow; 
and Kung, therefore, when the wine was finished, did not call for any more. 
Miao then rose, and observing that Kung did not appreciate a man of his 
capacity, went out [p. 204] into the market to buy some, returning shortly 
with a huge bowl full. Kung declined the proffered wine; but Miao, seizing 
his arm to persuade him, gripped it so painfully that Kung was forced to 
drink a few more cups, Miao himself swilling away as hard as he could go 
out of a soup-plate. I am not good at entertaining people, cried Miao, at 
length; pray go on or stop just as you please. Kung accordingly put 
together his things and went off; but he had not gone more than a few miles 
when his horse was taken ill, and lay down in the road. While he was waiting 
there with all his heavy baggage, revolving in his mind what he should do, 
up came Mr. Miao; who, when he heard what was the matter, took off his 
coat and handed it to the servant, and lifting up the horse, carried it off on 
his back to the nearest inn, which was about six or seven miles distant. 
Arriving there he put the animal in the stable, and before long Kung and his 
servant arrived too. Kung was much astonished at Mr. Miaos feat; and, 
believing him to be superhuman, began to treat him with the utmost 
deference, ordering both wine and food to be procured for their refreshment. 
My appetite, remarked Miao, is one that you could not easily satisfy. Let 
us stick to wine. So they finished another stoup together, and then Miao got 
up and took his leave, saying, It will be some time before your horse is well; 
I cannot wait for you. He then went away. 

After the examination several friends of Kungs invited him to join 


them in a picnic to the Flowery Hill; and just as they were all feasting and 
laughing together, lo Mr. Miao walked up. In one hand he held a large flagon, 
and in the other a ham, both of which he laid down on the ground before 
them. Hearing, said he, that you gentlemen were coming here, I have 
tacked myself on to you, like a fly to a horses tail. Kung and his friends 
then rose and received him with the usual ceremonies, after which they all 
sat down promiscuously.2 By-and-by, [p. 205] when the wine had gone 
round pretty freely, some one proposed capping verses; whereupon Miao 
cried out, Oh, were very jolly drinking like this; whats the use of making 
oneself uncomfortable? The others, how ever, would not listen to him, and 
agreed that as a forfeit a huge goblet of wine should be drunk by any 
defaulter. Let us rather make death the penalty, said Miao; to which they 
replied, laughing, that such a punishment was a trifle too severe; and then 
Miao retorted that if it was not to be death, even a rough fellow like himself 
might be able to join. A Mr. Chin, who was sitting at the top of the line, then 
began 

From the hill-top high, wide extends the gaze 

upon which Miao immediately carried on with 

Redly gleams the sword oer the shattered vase.3 

The next gentleman thought for a long time, during which Miao was helping 
himself to wine; and by-and-by they had all capped the verse, but so 
wretchedly that Miao called out, Oh, come! if we arent to be fined for 
these,4 we had better abstain from making any more. As none of them 
would agree to this, Miao could stand it no longer, and roared like a dragon 
till the hills and valleys echoed again. He then went down on his hands and 
knees, [p. 206] and jumped about like a lion, which utterly confused the 
poets, and put an end to their lucubrations. The wine had now been round a 
good many times, and being half tipsy each began to repeat to the other the 
verses he had handed in at the recent examination,5 all at the same time 
indulging in any amount of mutual flattery. This so disgusted Miao that he 
drew Kung aside to have a game at guess-fingers;6 but as they went on 
droning away all the same, he at length cried out, Do stop your rubbish, fit 
only for your own wives,7 and not for general company. The others were 
much abashed at this, and so angry were they at Miaos rudeness that they 
went on repeating all the louder. Miao then threw himself on the ground in a 
passion, and with a roar changed into a tiger, immediately springing upon 
the company, and killing them all except Kung and Mr. Chin. He then ran off 
roaring loudly. 

Now this Mr. Chin succeeded in taking his masters degree; and three 
years afterwards, happening to revisit the Flowery Hill, he beheld a Mr. Chi, 
one of those very gentlemen who had previously been killed by the tiger. In 
great alarm he was making off, when Chi seized his bridle and would not let 
him proceed. So he got down from his horse, and inquired what was the 
matter; to which Chi replied, I am now the slave of Miao, and have to 
endure bitter toil for him. He must kill some one else before I can be set 
free.8 Three days hence a man, arrayed in the [[p. 207] robes and cap of a 
scholar, should be eaten by the tiger at the foot of the Tsang-lung Hill. Do 
you on that day take some gentleman thither, and thus help your old 
friend. Chin was too frightened to say much, but promising that he would 
do so, rode away home. He then began to consider the matter over with 
himself, and, regarding it as a plot, he determined to break his engagement, 


and let his friend remain the tigers devil. He chanced, however, to repeat the 
story to a Mr. Chiang who was a relative of his, and one of the local scholars; 
and as this gentleman had a grudge against another scholar, named Yu, 
who had come out equal with him at the examination, he made up his mind 
to destroy him. So he invited Yu to accompany him on that day to the place 
in question, mentioning that he himself should appear in undress only. Yu 
could not make out the reason for this; but when he reached the spot there 
he found all kinds of wine and food ready for his entertainment. Now that 
very day the Prefect had come to the hill; and being a friend of the Chiang 
family, and hearing that Chiang was below, sent for him to come up. Chiang 
did not dare to appear before him in undress, and borrowed Yus clothes and 
hat; but he had no sooner got them on than out rushed the tiger and carried 
him away in its mouth. 

 

1 Alluding to a well-known expression which occurs in the Historical 
Record, and is often used in the sense of deriving advantage from connection 
with some influential person. 

2 Without any regard to precedence, which plays quite as important a 
part at a Chinese as at a Western dinner-party. In China, however, the most 
honoured guest sits at (what may be called) the head of the table, the host at 
the foot. I say what may be called, as Chinese dining tables are almost 
invariably square, and position alone determines which is the head and 
which the foot. They are usually made to accommodate eight persons; hence 
the fancy name eight-angel table, in allusion to the eight famous angels, or 
Immortals, of the Taoist religion. (See No. V., note 1.) Occasionally, round 
tables are used; especially in cases where the party consists of some such 
number as ten. 

3 It is almost impossible to give in translation the true spirit of a 
Chinese antithetical couplet. There are so many points to be brought out, 
each word of the second line being in opposition both in tone and sense to a 
corresponding word in the first, that anything beyond a rough rendering of 
the idea conveyed would be superfluous in a work like this. Suffice it to say 
that Miao has here successfully capped the verse given and the more so 
because he has introduced, through the medium of sword and shattered 
vase, an allusion to a classical story in which a certain Wang Tun, when 
drunk with wine, beat time on a vase with his sword, and smashed the lip. 

4 This is the vel ego vel Cluvienus style of sarcasm, his own verse 
having been particularly good. 

5 Many candidates, successful or otherwise, have their verses and 
essays printed, and circulate them among an admiring circle of friends. 

6 Accurately described in Tylors Primitive Culture, Vol. I., p. 75. Each 
player throws out a hand, and the sum of all the fingers shown has to be 
called, the successful caller scoring a point practically each calls the total 
before he sees his adversarys hand. The insertion of the word 
simultaneously after called would improve this description. This game is 
so noisy that the Hong-Kong authorities have forbidden it, except within 
certain authorised limits, between the hours of 11 p.m. and 6 a.m.
Ordinance No. 2 of 1872. 

7 This delicate stroke is of itself sufficient to prove the truth of the oft-
quoted Chinese saying, that all between the Four Seas are brothers. 


8 The substitution theory, by which disembodied spirits are enabled 
to find their way back to the world of mortals. A very interesting and 
important example of this belief occurs in a later story (No. CVI.), for which 
place I reserve further comments. 

XLVI. THE SISTERS 

HIS EXCELLENCY the Grand Secretary Mao came from an obscure family in 
the district of Yeh, his father being only a poor cow-herd. At the same place 
there resided a wealthy gentleman, named Chang, who owned a burial-
ground in the neighbourhood and some one informed him that while passing 
by he had heard sounds of wrangling from within the grave, and voices 
saying, Make haste and go away; do not disturb His Excellencys home. 
Chang did not much believe this; but subsequently he had several dreams in 
which he was told that the burial-ground in question really belonged to the 
Mao family, and that he had no right whatever to it. From this [p. 208] 
moment the affairs of his house began to go wrong;1 and at length he 
listened to the remonstrances of friends and removed his dead elsewhere. 

One day Maos father, the cow-herd, was out near this burial-ground, 
when, a storm of rain coming on, he took refuge in the now empty grave, 
while the rain came down harder than ever, and by-and-by flooded the whole 
place and drowned the old man. The Grand Secretary was then a mere boy, 
and his mother went off to Chang to beg a piece of ground wherein to bury 
her dead husband. When Chang heard her name he was greatly astonished; 
and on going to look at the spot where the old man was drowned, found that 
it was exactly at the proper place for the coffin. More than ever amazed, he 
gave orders that the body should be buried there in the old grave, and also 
bade Maos mother bring her son to see him. 

When the funeral was over, she went with Mao to Mr. Changs house, 
to thank him for his kindness; and so pleased was he with the boy that he 
kept him to be educated, ranking him as one of his own sons. He also said 
he would give him his eldest daughter as a wife, an offer which Maos mother 
hardly dared accept; but Mrs. Chang said that the thing was settled and 
couldnt be altered, so then she was obliged to consent. The young lady, 
however, had a great contempt for Mao, and made no effort to disguise her 
feelings; and if any one spoke to her of him, she would put her fingers in her 
ears, declaring she would die sooner than marry the cow-boy. On the day 
appointed for the wedding, the bridegroom arrived, and was feasted within, 
while outside the door a handsome chair was in waiting to convey away the 
bride, who all this time was standing crying in a corner, wiping her eyes with 
her sleeve, and absolutely refusing to dress. Just then the bridegroom sent 
in to say he was going,2 and the drums and trumpets struck up the wedding 
march, at [p. 209] which the brides tears only fell the faster as her hair 
hung dishevelled down her back. Her father managed to detain Mao awhile, 
and went in to urge his daughter to make haste, she weeping bitterly as if 
she did not hear what he was saying. He now got into a rage, which only 
made her cry the louder; and in the middle of it all a servant came to say the 
bridegroom wished to take his leave. The father ran out and said his 
daughter wasnt quite ready, begging Mao to wait a little longer; and then 
hurried back again to the bride. Thus they went on for some time, 
backwards and forwards, until at last things began to look serious, for the 
young lady obstinately refused to yield; and Mr. Chang was ready to commit 
suicide for want of anything better. 


Just then his second daughter was standing by upbraiding her elder 
sister for her disobedience, when suddenly the latter turned round in a rage, 
and cried out, So you are imitating the rest of them, you little minx; why 
dont you go and marry him yourself? My father did not betroth me to Mr. 
Mao, answered she, but if he had I should not require you to persuade me 
to accept him. Her father was delighted with this reply, and at once went off 
and consulted with his wife as to whether they could venture to substitute 
the second for the elder; and then her mother came and said to her, That 
bad girl there wont obey her parents commands; we wish, therefore, to put 
you in her place: will you consent to this arrangement? The younger sister 
readily agreed, saying that had they told her to marry a beggar she would 
not have dared to refuse, and that she had not such a low opinion of Mr. 
Mao as all that. Her father and mother rejoiced exceedingly at receiving this 
reply; and dressing her up in her sisters clothes, put her in the bridal chair 
and sent her off. 

She proved an excellent wife, and lived in harmony with her husband; 
but she was troubled with a disease of the hair, which caused Mr. Mao some 
annoyance. Later on, she told him how she had changed places with her 
sister, and this made him think more highly of her than before. Soon after 
Mao took his bachelors degree, and then set off to present himself as a 
candidate for the masters degree. On the way he passed by an inn, the 
landlord of which had dreamt the night before that a [p. 210] spirit appeared 
to him and said, Tomorrow Mr. Mao, first on the list, will come. Some day 
he will extricate you from a difficulty. Accordingly the landlord got up early, 
and took especial note of all guests who came from the eastward, until at 
last Mao himself arrived. The landlord was very glad to see him, and 
provided him with the best of everything, refusing to take any payment for it 
all, but telling what he had dreamt the night before. Mao now began to give 
himself airs; and, reflecting that his wifes want of hair would make him look 
ridiculous, he determined that so soon as he attained to rank and power he 
would find another spouse. But alas! when the list of successful candidates 
was published, Maos name was not among them; and he retraced his steps 
with a heavy heart, and by another road, so as to avoid meeting the 
innkeeper. 

Three years afterwards he went up again, and the landlord received 
him with precisely the same attentions as on the previous occasion; upon 
which Mao said to him, Your former words did not come true; I am now 
ashamed to put you to so much trouble. Ah, replied the landlord, you 
meant to get rid of your wife, and the Ruler of the world below struck out 
your name.3 My dream couldnt have been false. In great astonishment, 
Mao asked what he meant by these words; and then he learnt that after his 
departure the landlord had had a second dream informing him of the above 
facts. Mao was much alarmed at what he heard, and remained as motionless 
as a wooden image, until the landlord said to him, You, Sir, as a scholar, 
should have more self-respect, and you will certainly take the highest place. 
By-and-by when the list came out, Mao was the first of all and almost 
simultaneously his wifes hair began to grow quite thick, making her much 
better-looking than she had hitherto been. 

Now her elder sister had married a rich young fellow of good family, 
who lived in the neighbourhood, which made the young lady more 
contemptuous than ever; but he was so extravagant and so idle that their 
property was soon gone, and they were positively in want of food. [p. 211] 


Hearing, too, of Mr. Maos success at the examination, she was overwhelmed 
with shame and vexation, and avoided even meeting her sister in the street. 
Just then her husband died and left her destitute; and about the same time 
Mao took his doctors degree, which so aggravated her feelings that, in a 
passion, she became a nun. Subsequently, when Mao rose to be a high 
officer of state, she sent a novice to his yamn to try and get a subscription 
out of him for the temple; and Maos wife, who gave several pieces of silk and 
other things, secretly inserted a sum of money among them. The novice, not 
knowing this, reported what she had received to the elder sister, who cried 
out in a passion, I wanted money to buy food with; of what use are these 
things to me? 

So she bade the novice take them back; and when Mao and his wife 
saw her return, they suspected what had happened, and opening the parcel 
found the money still there. They now understood why the presents had 
been refused; and taking the money, Mao said to the novice, If one hundred 
ounces of silver is too much luck for your mistress to secure, of course she 
could never have secured a high official, such as I am now, for her 
husband. He then took fifty ounces, and giving them to the novice, sent her 
away, adding, Hand this to your mistress; Im afraid more would be too 
much for her. The novice returned and repeated all that had been said and 
then the elder sister sighed to think what a failure her life had been, and 
how she had rejected the worthy to accept the worthless. 

After this, the innkeeper got into trouble about a case of murder, and 
was imprisoned; but Mao exerted his influence, and obtained the mans 
pardon. 

 

1 Such is the dominant belief regarding the due selection of an 
auspicious site, whether for a house or grave; and with this superstition 
deeply ingrained in the minds of the people, it is easy to understand the hold 
on the public mind possessed by the pseudo-scientific professors of Fng-
Shui, or the geomantic art. 

2 The bridegroom leads off the procession, and the bride follows 
shortly afterwards in an elaborately-gilt sedan-chair, closed in on all sides so 
that the occupant cannot be seen. 

3 Here again we have the common Chinese belief that fate is fate only 
within certain limits, and is always liable to be altered at the will of heaven. 

4 This is another curious phase of Chinese superstition, namely, that 
each individual is so constituted by nature as to be able to absorb only a 
given quantity of good fortune and no more, any superfluity of luck doing 
actual harm to the person on whom it falls. 

XLVII. FOREIGN PRIESTS 

THE Buddhist priest, Ti-kung, relates that when he was at Ching-
chou he saw two foreign priests of very extraordinary appearance. They wore 
rings in their ears, [p. 212] were dressed in yellow cloth, and had curly hair 
and beards. They said they had come from the countries of the west; and 
hearing that the Governor of the district was a devoted follower of Buddha, 
they went to visit him. The Governor sent a couple of servants to escort them 
to the monastery of the place, where the abbot, Ling-pei, did not receive 


them very cordially; but the secular manager, seeing that they were not 
ordinary individuals, entertained them and kept them there for the night. 

Some one asked if there were many strange men in the west, and 
what magical arts were practised by the Lohans;[2] whereupon one of them 
laughed, and putting forth his hand from his sleeve, showed a small pagoda, 
fully a foot in height, and beautifully carved, standing upon the palm. Now 
very high up in the wall there was a niche; and the priest threw the pagoda 
up to it, when lo it stood there firm and straight. After a few moments the 
pagoda began to incline to one side, and a glory, as from a relic of some saint, 
was diffused throughout the room. The other priest then bared his arms and 
stretched out his left until it was five or six feet in length, at the same time 
shortening his right arm until it dwindled to nothing. He then stretched out 
the latter until it was as long as his left arm. 

 

1 The word here used is fan, generally translated barbarian, 

2 The disciples of Shakyamuni Buddha. Same as Arhans. 

XLVIII. THE SELF-PUNISHED MURDERER 

MR. LI was a ch-jen of Yung-nien.1 On the 28th of the 9th moon of the 4th 
year of Kang Hsi,2 he killed his wife. The neighbours reported the murder to 
the officials, and the high authorities instructed the district magistrate to 
investigate the case. At this juncture Mr. Li was standing at the door of his 
residence; and snatching a butchers knife from a stall hard by, he rushed 
into the Chng-huang[3] temple, where, mounting the theatrical stage,4 he 
threw himself on his knees, and spoke as follows: [p. 213] The spirit here 
will punish me. I am not to be prosecuted by evil men who, from party 
motives, confuse right and wrong. The spirit moves me to cut off an ear. 
Thereupon he cut off his left ear and threw it down from the stage. He then 
said the spirit was going to fine him a hand for cheating people out of their 
money; and he forthwith chopped off his left hand. Lastly, he cried out that 
he was to be punished severely for all his many crimes; and immediately cut 
his own throat. The Viceroy subsequently received the Imperial permission 
to deprive him of his rank 5 and bring him to trial; but he was then being 
punished by a higher power in the realms of darkness below. See the Peking 
Gazette.6 

 

1 In the province of Chihli. Ch-jen = second or masters degree. 

2 In 1665, that is between fourteen and fifteen years previous to the 
completion of the Liao Chai. 

3 See No. I., note 1. 

4 Religion and the drama work hand in hand in China. 

5 Always the first step in the prosecution of a graduate. In this case, 
the accused was also an official. 

6 Of what date, our author does not say, or it would be curious to try 
and hunt up the official record of this case as it appeared in the Government 
organ of the day. The unfortunate man was in all probability insane. 


XLIX. THE MASTER THIEF 

BEFORE his rebellion,1 Prince Wu frequently told his soldiers that if 
any one of them could catch a tiger unaided he would give him a handsome 
pension and the title of the Tiger Daunter. In his camp there was a man 
named Pao-chu, as strong and agile as a monkey; and once when a new 
tower was being built, the wooden framework having only just been set up, 
Pao-chu walked along the eaves, and finally got up on the very tip-top beam, 
where he ran backwards and forwards several times. He then jumped down, 
alighting safely on his feet. 

Now Prince Wu had a favourite concubine, who was a skilful player on 
the guitar; and the nuts of the instrument she used were of warm jade,2 so 
that when played upon there was a general feeling of warmth throughout the 
room. The young lady was extremely careful of this treasure, and never 
produced it for any one to see unless on receipt of the Princes written order. 
One night, in [p. 214] the middle of a banquet, a guest begged to be allowed 
to see this wonderful guitar; but the Prince, being in a lazy mood, said it 
should be exhibited to him on the following day. Pao-chu, who was standing 
by, then observed that he could get it without troubling the Prince to write 
an order. Some one was therefore sent off beforehand to instruct all the 
officials to be on the watch, and then the Prince told Pao-chu he might go; 
and after scaling numerous walls the latter found himself near the ladys 
room. Lamps were burning brightly within; the doors were bolted and barred, 
and it was impossible to effect an entrance. Under the verandah, however, 
was a cockatoo fast asleep on its perch; and Pao-chu, first mewing several 
times like a cat, followed it up by imitating the voice of the bird, and cried 
out as though in distress, The cat! the cat! He then heard the concubine 
call to one of the slave girls, and bid her go rescue the cockatoo, which was 
being killed; and, hiding himself in a dark corner, he saw a girl come forth 
with a light in her hand. She had barely got outside the door when he 
rushed in, and there he saw the lady sitting with the guitar on a table before 
her. Seizing the instrument he turned and fled; upon which the concubine 
shrieked out Thieves! thieves! And the guard, seeing a man making off with 
the guitar, at once started in pursuit. Arrows fell round Pao-chu like drops of 
rain, but he climbed up one of a number of huge ash trees growing there, 
and from its top leaped on to the top of the next, and so on, until he had 
reached the furthermost tree, when he jumped on to the roof of a house, and 
from that to another, more as if he were flying than anything else. In a few 
minutes he had disappeared, and before long presented himself suddenly at 
the banquet-table with the guitar in his hand, the entrance-gate having been 
securely barred all the time, and not a dog or a cock aroused. [p. 215] 

 

1 A.D. 1675. His full name was Wu San-1116. 

2 Such is the literal translation of a term which I presume to be the 
name of some particular kind of jade, which is ordinarily distinguished from 
the imitation article by its comparative coldness. 

L. A FLOOD 

IN the twenty-first year of Kang Hsi[1] there was a severe drought, not 
a green blade appearing in the parched ground all through the spring and 
well into the summer: On the 13th of the 6th moon a little rain fell, and 


people began to plant their rice. On the 18th there was a heavy fall, and 
beans were sown. 

Now at a certain village there was an old man, who, noticing two 
bullocks fighting on the hills, told the villagers that a great flood was at hand, 
and forthwith removed with his family to another part of the country. The 
villagers all laughed at him; but before very long rain began to fall in torrents, 
lasting all through the night, until the water was several feet deep, and 
carrying away the houses. Among the others was a man, who, neglecting to 
save his two children, with his wife assisted his aged mother to reach a place 
of safety, from which they looked down at their old home, now only an 
expanse of water, without hope of ever seeing the children again. When the 
flood had subsided, they went back, to find the whole place a complete ruin; 
but in their own house they discovered the two boys playing and laughing on 
the bed as if nothing had happened. Some one remarked that this was a 
reward for the filial piety of the parents. It happened on the 20th of the 6th 
moon.2 

 

1 A.D. 1682; that is, three years after the date of our authors preface. 
See Introduction. 

2 A curious note here follows in the original:In 1696 a severe 
earthquake occurred at Ping-yang, and seven or eight out of every ten of the 
inhabitants were killed, the city and suburbs were utterly destroyed, only 
one house remaining uninjureda house inhabited by a filial son. And thus, 
when in the crash of a collapsing universe, filial piety is specially marked out 
for protection, who shall say that God Almighty does not know black from 
white? 

LI. DEATH BY LAUGHING 

A MR. SUN CHING-HSIA, a Director of Studies, told me that in his 
village there was a certain man who had been killed by the rebels when they 
passed through the place. The [p. 216] mans head was left hanging down on 
his chest; and as soon as the rebels had gone, his servants secured the body 
and were about to bury it. Hearing, however, a sound of breathing, they 
looked more closely, and found that the windpipe was not wholly severed; 
and, setting his head in its proper place, they carried him back home. In 
twenty-four hours he began to moan; and by dint of carefully feeding him 
with a spoon, within six months he had quite recovered. 

Some ten years afterwards he was chatting with a few friends, when 
one of them made a joke which called forth loud applause from the others. 
Our hero, too, clapped his hands; but, as he was bending backwards and 
forwards with laughter, the seam on his neck split open, and down fell his 
head with a gush of blood. His friends now found that he was quite dead, 
and his father immediately commenced an action against the joker; but a 
sum of money was subscribed by those present and given to the father, who 
buried his son and stopped further proceedings. 

 

1 The Chinese distinguish five degrees of homicide, of which 
accidental homicide is one (see Penal Code, Book VI.). Thus, if a gun goes off 
of itself in a mans hand and kills a bystander, the holder of the gun is guilty 


of homicide; but were the same gun lying on a table, it would be regarded as 
the will of Heaven. Similarly, a man is held responsible for any death caused 
by an animal belonging to him though in such cases the affair can usually 
be hushed up by a money payment, no notice being taken of crimes in 
general unless at the instigation of a prosecutor, at whose will the case may 
be subsequently withdrawn. Where the circumstances are purely accidental, 
the law admits of a money compensation. 

LII. PLAYING AT HANGING 

A NUMBER of wild young fellows were one day out walking when they 
saw a young lady approach, riding on a pony.l One of them said to the 
others, Ill back myself to make that girl laugh, and a supper was at once 
staked by both sides on the result. Our hero then ran out in front of the 
pony, and kept on shouting Im going to die Im going to die at the same 
time pulling out from over the top of a wall a stalk of millet, to which he 
attached his own waistband, and, tying the latter round his neck, [p. 217] 
made a pretence of hanging himself. The young lady did laugh as she passed 
by, to the great amusement of the assembled company; but as when she was 
already some distance off their friend did not move, the others laughed 
louder than ever. However, on going up to him they saw that his tongue 
protruded, and that his eyes were glazed; he was, in fact, quite dead. Was it 
not strange that a man should be able to hang himself on a millet stalk?[2] It 
is a good warning against practical joking. 

 

1 Women in China ride astride. 

2 Which, although tolerably stout and strong, is hardly capable of 
sustaining a mans weight. 

LIII. THE RAT WIFE 

HSI SHAN was a native of Kao-mi, and a trader by occupation. He 
used constantly to travel between Mng-yin and I-shui (in Shantung) . One 
day he was delayed on the road by rain, and when he arrived at his usual 
quarters it was already late in the night. He knocked at all the doors, but no 
one answered; and he was walking backwards and forwards in the piazza 
when suddenly a door flew open and an old man came out. He invited the 
traveller to enter, an invitation to which Hsi Shan gladly responded; and, 
tying up his mule, he went in. The place was totally unfurnished; and the 
old man began by saying that it was only out of compassion that he had 
asked him in, as his house was not an inn. There are only three or four of 
us, added he; and my wife and daughter are fast asleep. We have some of 
yesterdays food, which I will get ready for you; you must not object to its 
being cold. He then went within, and shortly afterwards returned with a low 
couch, which he placed on the ground, begging his guest to be seated, at the 
same time hurrying back for a low table, and soon for a number of other 
things, until at last Hsi Shan was quite uncomfortable, and entreated his 
host to rest himself awhile. By-and-by a young lady came out, bringing some 
wine; upon which the old man said, Oh, our A-chien has got up. She was 
about sixteen or seventeen, a slender and pretty-looking girl; and as Hsi 
Shan had an unmarried brother, he began to think directly that she would 
do for him. So he inquired of the old man his name and address, to which [p. 


218] the latter replied that his name was Ku, and that his children had all 
died save this one daughter. I didnt like to wake her just now, but I 
suppose my wife told her to get up. Hsi Shan then asked the name of his 
son-in-law, and was informed that the young lady was not yet engaged,at 
which he was secretly very much pleased. A tray of food was now brought in, 
evidently the remains from the day before; and when he had finished eating, 
Hsi Shan began respectfully to address the old man as follows:I am only a 
poor wayfarer, but I shall never forget the kindness with which you have 
treated me. Let me presume upon it, and submit to your consideration a 
plan I have in my head. My younger brother, San-lang, is seventeen years 
old. He is a student, and by no means unsteady or dull. May I hope that you 
will unite our families together, and not think it presumption on my part? I, 
too, am but a temporary sojourner, replied the old man, rejoicing; and if 
you will only let me have a part of your house, I shall be very glad to come 
and live with you. Hsi Shan consented to this, and got up and thanked him 
for the promise of his daughter; upon which the old man set to work to make 
him comfortable for the night, and then went away. At cock-crow he was 
outside, calling his guest to come and have a wash; and when Hsi Shan had 
packed up ready to go, he offered to pay for his nights entertainment. This, 
however, the old man refused, saying, I could hardly charge a stranger any-
thing for a single meal; how much less could I take money from one who is 
to be a connection by marriage? They then separated, and in about a month 
Hsi Shan returned; but when he was a short distance from the village he met 
an old woman with a young lady, both dressed in deep mourning. As they 
approached he began to suspect it was A-chien; and the young lady, after 
turning round to look at him, pulled the old womans sleeve, and whispered 
something in her ear, which Hsi Shan himself did not hear. The old woman 
stopped immediately, and asked if she was addressing Mr. Hsi; and when 
informed that she was, she said mournfully, Alas my husband has been 
killed by the falling of a wall. We are going to bury him to-day. There is no 
one at home but please wait here, and we will be back by-and-by. They then 
disappeared among [p. 219] the trees; and, returning after a short absence, 
they walked along together in the dusk of the evening. The old woman 
complained bitterly of their lonely and helpless state, and Hsi Shan himself 
was moved to compassion by the sight of her tears. She told him that the 
people of the neighbourhood were a bad lot, and that if A-chien was to 
marry into his family, no time should be lost. Hsi Shan said he was willing; 
and when they reached the house the old woman, after lighting the lamp 
and setting food before him, proceeded to speak as follows:Knowing, Sir, 
that you would shortly arrive, we sold all our grain except about twenty 
piculs. We cannot take this with us so far; but a mile or so to the north of 
the village, at the first house you come to, there lives a man named Tan 
Erh-chan, who often buys grain from me. Dont think it too much trouble 
to oblige me by taking a sack with you on your mule and proceeding thither 
at once. Tell Mr. Tan that the old lady of the southern village has several 
piculs of grain which she wishes to sell in order to get money for a journey, 
and beg him to send some animals to carry it. The old woman then gave 
him a sack of grain; and Hsi Shan, whipping up his mule, was soon at the 
place; and, knocking at the door, a great fat fellow came out, to whom he 
told his errand. Emptying the sack he had brought, he went back himself 
first and before long a couple of men arrived leading five mules. The old 
woman took them into the granary, which was a cellar below ground, and 
Hsi Shan, going down himself, held the measure and grasped the 
smoothing-bar, while the mother poured the grain into the measure and the 


daughter received it in the sack. In a little while the men had got a load, with 
which they went off, returning altogether four times before all the grain was 
exhausted. They then paid the old woman, who kept one man and two mules, 
and, packing up her things, set off towards the east. After travelling some 
seven miles day began to break; and by-and-by they reached a market-town, 
where the old woman hired animals and sent back Tans servant. When they 
arrived at Hsi Shans home he related the whole story to his parents, who 
were very pleased at what had happened, and provided separate apartments 
for the old lady; and after choosing a lucky [p. 220] day, A-chien was 
married to San-lang. The old woman prepared a handsome trousseau; and 
as for A-chien herself, she spoke but little, seldom losing her temper, and if 
anyone addressed her she would only reply with a smile. She employed all 
her time in spinning, and thus became a general favourite with all alike. 
Tell your brother, said she to San-lang, that when he happens to pass our 
old residence he will do well not to make any mention of my mother and 
myself. 

In three or four years time the Hsi family had made plenty of money, 
and San-lang had taken his bachelors degree, when one day Hsi Shan 
happened to pass a night with the people who lived next door to the house 
where he had met A-chien. After telling them the story of his having had 
nowhere to sleep, and taking refuge with the old man and woman, his host 
said to him, You must make a mistake, Sir; the house you allude to belongs 
to my uncle, but was abandoned three years ago in consequence of its being 
haunted. It has now been uninhabited for a long time. What old man and 
woman can have entertained you there? Hsi Shan was very much 
astonished at this, but did not put much faith in what he heard; meanwhile 
his host continued, For ten years no one dared enter the house; however, 
one day the back wall fell down, and my uncle, going to look at it, found, 
half-buried underneath the ruins, a large rat, almost as big as a cat. It was 
still moving, and my uncle went off to call for assistance, but when he got 
back the rat had disappeared. Every one suspected some supernatural 
agency to be at work, though on returning to the spot ten days afterwards 
nothing was to be either heard or seen and about a year subsequently the 
place was inhabited once more. 

Hsi Shah was more than ever amazed at what he now heard, and on 
reaching home told the family what had occurred; for he feared that his 
brothers wife was not a human being, and became rather anxious about 
him. San-lang himself continued to be much attached to A-chien; but by-
and-by the other members of the family let A-chien perceive that they had 
suspicions about her. So one night she complained to San-lang, saying, I 
have been a good wife to you for some years, but now I am no longer 
regarded as a human being. I pray you [p. 221] give me my divorce)l and 
seek for yourself some worthier mate. She then burst into a flood of tears; 
whereupon San-lang said, You should know my feelings by this time. Ever 
since you entered the house the family has prospered; and that prosperity is 
entirely due to you. Who can say it is not so? I know full well, replied A-
chien, what you feel; still there are the others, and I do not wish to share 
the fate of an autumn fan.2 At length San-lang succeeded in pacifying her; 
but Hsi Shan could not dismiss the subject from his thoughts, and gave out 
that he was going to get a first-rate mouser, with a view to testing A-chien. 
She did not seem very frightened at this, though evidently ill at ease; and 
one night she told San-lang that her mother was not very well, and that he 
neednt come to bid her good-night as usual. In the morning mother and 


daughter had disappeared; at which San-lang was greatly alarmed, and sent 
out to look for them in every direction. No traces of the fugitives could be 
discovered, and San-bag was overwhelmed with grief, unable either to eat or 
to sleep. His father and brother thought it was a lucky thing for him, and 
advised him to [p. 222] console himself with another wife. This, however, he 
refused to do; until, about a year afterwards, nothing more having been 
heard of A-chien, he could not resist their importunities any longer, and 
bought himself a concubine. But he never ceased to think of A-chien; and 
some years later, when the prosperity of the family was on the wane, they all 
began to regret her loss. 

Now San-lang had a step-brother, named Lan, who, when travelling to 
Chiao-chou on business, passed a night at the house of a relative named Lu. 
He noticed that during the night sounds of weeping and lamentation 
proceeded from their next-door neighbours, but he did not inquire the 
reason of it; however, on his way back he heard the. same sounds, and then 
asked what was the cause of such demonstrations. Mr. Lu told him that a 
few years ago an old widow and her daughter had come there to live, and 
that the mother had died about a month previously, leaving her child quite 
alone in the world. Lan inquired what her name was, and Mr. Lu said it was 
Ku; But, added he, the door is closely barred, and as they never had any 
communication with the village, I know nothing of their antecedents. Its 
my sister-in-law, cried Lan, in amazement, and at once proceeded to knock 
at the door of the house. Some one came to the front door, and said, in a 
voice that betokened recent weeping, Whos there? There are no men in this 
house. 3 Lan looked through a crack, and saw that the young lady really 
was his sister-in-law; so he called out, Sister, open the door. I am your 
step-brother A-sui. A-chien immediately opened the door and asked him in, 
and recounted to him the whole story of her troubles. Your husband, said 
Lan, is always thinking of you. For a trifling difference you need hardly have 
run away so far from him. He then proposed to hire a vehicle and take her 
home; but A-chien replied, I came hither with my mother to hide because I 
was not regarded as a human being, and should make myself ridiculous by 
now returning thus. If I am to go back, my elder brother Hsi Shan must no 
longer live with us; otherwise, I will immediately poison myself. Lan then 
went home and told San-lang, who set off and travelled all night until he [p. 
223] reached the place where A-chien was. Husband and wife were 
overjoyed to meet again, and the following day San-lang notified the landlord 
of the house where A-chien had been living. Now this landlord had long 
desired to secure A-chien as a concubine for himself; and, after making no 
claim for rent for several years, he began to hint as much to her mother. The 
old lady, however, refused flatly; but shortly afterwards she died, and then 
the landlord thought that he might be able to succeed. At this juncture San-
lang arrived, and the landlord sought to hamper him by putting in his claim 
for rent; and, as San-lang was anything but well off at the moment, it really 
did annoy him very much. A-chien here came to the rescue, showing San-
lang a large quantity of grain she had in the house, and bidding him use it 
to settle accounts with the landlord. The latter declared he could not accept 
grain, but must be paid in silver; whereupon A-chien sighed and said it was 
all her unfortunate self that had brought this upon them, at the same time 
telling San-lang of the landlords former proposition. San-lang was very 
angry, and was about to take out a summons against him, when Mr. Lu 
interposed, and, by selling the grain in the neighbourhood, managed to 
collect sufficient money to pay off the rent. San-lang and his wife then 


returned home; and the former, having explained the circumstances to his 
parents, separated his household from that of his brother. A-chien now 
proceeded to build, with her own money, a granary, which was a matter of 
some astonishment to the family, there not being a hundred-weight of grain 
in the place. But in about a year the granary was full,4 and before very long 
San-lang was a rich man, Hsi Shan remaining as poor as before. Accordingly, 
A-chien persuaded her husbands parents to come and live with them, and 
made frequent presents of money to the elder brother; so that her husband 
said, Well, at any rate, you bear no malice. Your brothers behaviour, 
replied she, was from his regard for you. Had it not been for him, you and I 
would never have met. After this there were no more supernatural 
manifestations. [p. 224] 

 

1 The Chinese acknowledge seven just causes for putting away a wife. 
(1) Bad behaviour towards the husbands father and mother. (2) Adultery. (3) 
Jealousy. (4) Garrulity. (5) Theft. (6) Disease. (7) Barrenness. The right of 
divorce may not, however, be enforced if the husbands father and mother 
have died since the marriage, as thus it would be inferred that the wife had 
served them well up to the time of their death; or if the husband has recently 
risen to wealth and power (hence the saying, The wife of my porridge days 
shall not go down from my hall); or, thirdly, if the wifes parents and 
brothers are dead, and she has no home in which she can seek shelter. 

2 This simile is taken from a song ascribed to Pan Chieh-y, a 
favourite of the Emperor Chng Ti of the Han dynasty, written when her 
influence with the Son of Heaven began to wane. I venture to reproduce it 
here. 

O fair white silk, fresh from the weavers loom; 

Clear as the frost, bright as the winters snow! 

See! friendship fashions out of thee a fan, 

Round as the round moon shines in heaven above. 

At home, abroad, a close companion thou, 

Stirring at every move the grateful gale. 

And yet I fear, ah, me I that autumn chills, 

Cooling the dying Summers torrid rage, 

Will see thee laid neglected on the shelf, 

All thought of bygone days, like them, bygone. 

 

3 Signifying that it would be impossible for him to enter. 

4 The result of A-chiens depredations as a rat. 

LIV. THE MAN WHO WAS THROWN DOWN A WELL 

MR. TAI, of An-ching, was a wild fellow when young. One day as he 
was returning home tipsy,l he met by the way a dead cousin of his named 
Chi; and having, in his drunken state, quite forgotten that his cousin was 
dead, he asked him where he was going. I am already a disembodied spirit, 
replied Chi; dont you remember? 

Tai was a little disturbed at this; but, being under the influence of 
liquor, he was not frightened, and inquired of his cousin what he was doing 
in the realms below. I am employed as scribe, said Chi, in the court of the 
Great King. Then you must know all about our happiness and misfortunes 


to come, cried Tai. It is my business, answered his cousin, so of course I 
know. But I see such an enormous mass that, unless of special reference to 
myself or family, I take no notice of any of it. Three days ago, by the way, I 
saw your name in the register. Tai immediately asked what there was about 
himself, and his cousin replied, I will not deceive you; your name was put 
down for a dark and dismal hell. 

Tai was dreadfully alarmed, and at the same time sobered, and 
entreated his cousin to assist him in some way. You may try, said Chi, 
what merit will do for you as a means of mitigating your punishment; but 
the register of your sins is as thick as my finger, and nothing short of the 
most deserving acts will be of any avail. What can a poor fellow like myself 
do for you? Were you to [p. 225] perform one good act every day, you would 
not complete the necessary total under a year and more, and it is now too 
late for that. But henceforth amend your ways, and there may still be a 
chance of escape for you. When Tai heard these words he prostrated himself 
on the ground, imploring his cousin to help him; but, on raising his head, 
Chi had disappeared; he therefore returned sorrowfully home, and set to 
work to cleanse his heart and order his behaviour. 

Now Tais next-door neighbour had long suspected him of paying too 
much attention to his wife; and one day meeting Tai in the fields shortly 
after the events narrated above, he inveigled him into inspecting a dry well, 
and then pushed him down. The well was many feet deep, and the man felt 
certain that Tai was killed; however, in the middle of the night he came 
round, and sitting up at the bottom, he began to shout for assistance, but 
could not make any one hear him. On the following day, the neighbour, 
fearing that Tai might possibly have recovered consciousness, went to listen 
at the mouth of the well; and hearing him cry out for help, began to throw 
down a quantity of stones. Tai took refuge in a cave at the side, and did not 
dare utter another sound; but his enemy knew he was not dead, and 
forthwith filled the well almost up to the top with earth. In the cave it was as 
dark as pitch, exactly like the Infernal Regions; and not being able to get 
anything to eat or drink, Tai gave up all hopes of life. He crawled on his 
hands and knees further into the cave, but was prevented by water from 
going further than a few paces, and returned to take up his position at the 
old spot. At first he felt hungry; by-and-by, however, this sensation passed 
away; and then reflecting that there, at the bottom of a well, he could hardly 
perform any good action, he passed his time in calling loudly on the name of 
Buddha. Before long he saw a number of Will-o-the-Wisps flitting over the 
water and illuminating the gloom of the cave; and immediately prayed to 
them, saying, O Will-o-the-Wisps, I have heard that ye are the shades of 
wronged and injured people. I have not long to live, and am without hope of 
escape still I would gladly relieve the monotony of my situation by 
exchanging a few words with you. Thereupon, all the Wills came [p. 226] 
flitting across the water to him; and in each of them was a man of about half 
the ordinary size. Tai asked them whence they came; to which one of them 
replied, This is an old coal-mine. The proprietor, in working the coal, 
disturbed the position of some graves;2 and Mr. Lung-fei flooded the mine 
and drowned forty-three workmen. We are the shades of those men. He 
further said he did not know who Mr. Lung-fei was, except that he was 
secretary to the City God, and that in compassion for the misfortunes of the 
innocent workmen, he was in the habit of sending them a quantity of gruel 
every three or four days. But the cold water, added he, soaks into our 
bones, and there is but small chance of ever getting them removed. If, Sir, 


you some day return to the world above, I pray you fish up our decaying 
bones and bury them in some public burying-ground. You will this earn for 
yourself boundless gratitude in the realms below. Tai promised that if he 
had the luck to escape he would do as they wished; but how, cried he, 
situated as I am, can I ever hope to look again upon the light of day? He 
then began to teach the Wills to say their prayers, making for them beads[3] 
out of bits of mud, in order to keep record of the number of invocations 
uttered. He could not tell night from morning he slept when he felt tired, and 
when he waked he sat up. Suddenly, he perceived in the distance the light of 
lamps, at which the shades all rejoiced, and said, It is Mr. Lung-fei with our 
food. They then invited Tai to go with them; and when he said he couldnt 
because of the water, they bore him along over it so that he hardly seemed to 
walk. After twisting and turning about for nearly a quarter of a mile, he 
reached a place at which the Wills bade him walk by himself and then he 
appeared to mount a flight of steps, at the top of which he found himself in 
an apartment lighted by a candle as thick round as ones arm. Not having 
seen the light of fire for some time, he was overjoyed and walked [p. 227] in; 
but observing an old man in a scholars dress and cap seated in the post of 
honour, he stopped, not liking to advance further. But the old man had 
already caught sight of him, and asked him how he, a living man, had come 
there. Tai threw himself on the ground at his feet, and told him all; 
whereupon the old man cried out, My great-grandson! then bade him get 
up; and offering him a seat, explained that his own name was Tai Chien, and 
that he was otherwise known as Lung-fei. He said, moreover, that in days 
gone by a worthless grandson of his named Tang had associated himself 
with a lot of scoundrels and sunk a well near his grave, disturbing the peace 
of his everlasting night; and that therefore he had flooded the place with salt 
water and drowned them. He then inquired as to the general condition of the 
family at that time. 

Now Tai was a descendant of one of five brothers, from the eldest of 
whom Tang himself was also descended; and an influential man of the place 
had bribed Tang to open a mine[4] alongside the family grave. His brothers 
were afraid to interfere; and by-and-by the water rose and drowned all the 
workmen; whereupon actions for damages were commenced by the relatives 
of the deceased,5 and Tang and his friend were reduced to poverty, and 
Tangs descendants to absolute destitution. Tai was a son of one of Tangs 
brothers, and having heard this story from his seniors, now repeated it to 
the old man. How could they be otherwise than unfortunate, cried the 
latter, with such an unfilial progenitor? But since you have come hither, 
you must on no account neglect your studies. The old man then provided 
him with food and wine, and spreading a volume of essays according to the 
old style before him, bade him study it most care-fully. He also gave him 
themes for composition, and corrected his essays as if he had been his tutor. 
The candle remained always burning in the room, never needing to be 
snuffed and never decreasing. When he was tired [p. 228] he went to sleep, 
but he never knew day from night. The old man occasionally went out, 
leaving a boy to attend to his great-grandsons wants. It seemed that several 
years passed away thus, but Tai had no troubles of any kind to annoy him. 
He had no other book except the volume of essays, one hundred in all, which 
he read through more than four thousand times. One day the old man said 
to him, Your term of expiation is nearly completed, and you will be able to 
return to the world above. My grave is near the coal-mine, and the grosser 
breeze plays upon my bones. Remember to remove them to the eastern 


plain.6 Tai promised he would see to this and then the old man summoned 
all the shades together and instructed them to escort Tai back to the place 
where they had found him. The shades now bowed one after the other, and 
begged Tai to think of them as well, while Tai himself was quite at a loss to 
guess how he was going to get out. 

Meanwhile, Tais family had searched for him everywhere, and his 
mother had brought his case to the notice of the officials, thereby implicating 
a large number of persons, but without getting any trace of the missing man. 
Three or four years passed away, and there was a change of magistrate; in 
consequence of which the search was relaxed, and Tais wife, not being 
happy where she was, married another husband. Just then an inhabitant of 
the place set about repairing the old well, and found Tais body in the cave at 
the bottom. Touching it, he found it was not dead, and at once gave 
information to the family. Tai was promptly conveyed home, and within a 
day he could tell his own story. 

Since he had been down the well, the neighbour who pushed him in 
had beaten his own wife to death; and his father-in-law having brought an 
action against him, he had, been in confinement for more than a year while 
the case was being investigated.7 When released he was a mere bag of 
bones;8 and then hearing that Tai had come [p. 229] back to life, he was 
terribly alarmed and fled away. The family tried to persuade. Tai to take 
proceedings against him, but this he would not do, alleging that what had 
befallen him was a proper punishment for his own bad behaviour, and had 
nothing to do with the neighbour. Upon this, the said neighbour ventured to 
return; and when the water in the well had dried up, Tai hired men to go 
down and collect the bones, which he put in coffins and buried all together 
in one place. He next hunted up Mr. Lung-feis name in the family tables of 
genealogy, and proceeded to sacrifice all kinds of nice things at his tomb. 
By-and-by the Literary Chancellor[9] heard this strange story, and was also 
very pleased with Tais compositions; accordingly, Tai passed successfully 
through his examinations, and, having taken his masters degree, returned 
home, and reburied Mr. Lung-fei on the eastern plain, repairing thither 
regularly every spring without fail.[10] 

 

1 I have already discussed the subject of drunkenness in China 
(Chinese Sketches, pp. 113, 114), and shall not return to it here, further 
than to quote a single sentence, to which I adhere as firmly now as when the 
book in question was published:Who ever sees in China a tipsy man 
reeling about a crowded thoroughfare, or lying with his head in a ditch by 
the side of some country road? It is not, however, generally known that the 
Chinese, with their usual quaintness, distinguish between five kinds of 
drunkenness, different people being differently affected, according to the 
physical constitution of each. Wine may fly (1) to the heart, and produce 
maudlin emotions; or (2) to the liver, and incite to pugnacity; or (3) to the 
stomach, and cause drowsiness, accompanied by a flushing of the face or (4) 
to the lungs, and induce hilarity; or (5) to the kidneys, and excite desire. 

2 A religious and social offence of the deepest dye, sure to entail 
punishment in the world to come, even if the perpetrator escapes detection 
in this life. 

3 The Buddhist rosary consists of 108 beads, which number is the 
same as that of the compartments in the Phrabat, or sacred foot-print of 


Buddha, 

4 It here occurred to me that the word hitherto translated well 
should have been shaft; but the commentator refers expressly to the Tso 
Chuan, where the phrase for a dry well, as first used, is so explained. We 
must accordingly fall back on the supposition that our author has 
committed a trifling slip. 

5 See No. LI., note 1. 

6 In order to profit by the vivifying influence of the east, the quarter 
associated with spring. 

7 That is, as to whether or not there were extenuating circumstances, 
in which case no punishment would be inflicted. 

8 Such is the invariable result of confinement in a Chinese prison, 
unless the prisoner has the wherewithal to purchase food. 

9 The provincial examiner for the degree of bachelor. 

10 To worship at his tomb. 

LV. THE VIRTUOUS DAUGHTER-IN-LAW 

AN TA-CHNG was a Chung-ching man. His father, who had gained 
the masters degree, died early; and his brother Erh-chng was a mere boy. 
He himself had married a wife from the Chen family, whose name was Shan-
hu; and this young lady had much to put up with from the violent and 
malicious disposition of her husbands mother.l However, she never 
complained; and every morning dressed herself up smart, and went in to pay 
her respects to the old lady. Once when Ta-chng was ill, his mother abused 
Shan-hu for dressing so nicely; whereupon Shan-hu went back and changed 
her clothes; but even then Mrs. An was not satisfied, and began to tear her 
own hair with rage. Ta-chng, who was a very filial son, at once gave his 
wife a beating, and this put an end to the scene. From that moment his 
mother hated her more than ever, and although she was everything that a 
daughter-in-law could be, would never exchange a word with her. Ta-chng 
then treated her in much the same [p. 230] way, that his mother might see 
he would have nothing to do with her; still the old lady wasnt pleased, and 
was always blaming Shan-hu for every trifle that occurred. A wife, cried Ta-
chng, is taken to wait upon her mother-in-law. This state of things hardly 
looks like the wife doing her duty. So he bade Shan-hu begone,2 and sent 
an old maid-servant to see her home: but when Shan-hu got outside the 
village-gate, she burst into tears, and said, How can a girl who has failed in 
her duties as a wife ever dare to look her parents in the face? I had better 
die. Thereupon she drew a pair of scissors and stabbed herself in the throat, 
covering herself immediately with blood. The servant prevented any further 
mischief, and supported her to the house of her husbands aunt, who was a 
widow living by herself, and who made Shan-hu stay with her. The servant 
went back and told Ta-chng, and he bade her say nothing to any one, for 
fear his mother should hear of it. In a few days Shan-hus wound was healed, 
and Ta-chng went off to ask his aunt to send her away. His aunt invited 
him in, but he declined, demanding loudly that Shan-hu should be turned 
out; and in a few moments Shan-hu herself came forth, and inquired what 
she had done. Ta-chng said she had failed in her duty towards his mother; 
whereupon Shan-hu hung her head and made no answer, while tears of 


blood[3] trickled from her eyes and stained her dress all over. Ta-chng was 
much touched by this spectacle, and went away without saying any more; 
but before long his mother heard all about it, and, hurrying off to the aunts, 
began abusing her roundly. This the aunt would not stand, and said it was 
all the fault of her own bad temper, adding, The girl has already left you, 
and do you still claim to decide with whom she is to live? Miss Chn is 
staying with me, not your daughter-in-law; so you had better mind your own 
business. This made Mrs. An furious; but she was at a loss for an answer, 
and, seeing that the aunt was firm, she went off home abashed and in tears. 
[p. 231] 

Shan-hu herself was very much upset, and determined to seek shelter 
elsewhere, finally taking up her abode with Mrs. Ans elder sister, a lady of 
sixty odd years of age, whose son had died, leaving his wife and child to his 
mothers care. This Mrs. Y was extremely fond of Shan-hu; and when she 
heard the facts of the case, said it was all her sisters horrid disposition, and 
proposed to send Shan-hu back. The latter, however, would not hear of this, 
and they continued to live together like mother and daughter; neither would 
Shan-hu accept the invitation of her two brothers to return home and marry 
some one else, but remained there with Mrs. Y, earning enough to live 
upon by spinning and such work. 

Ever since Shan-hu had been sent away, Ta-chngs mother had been 
endeavouring to get him another wife but the fame of her temper had spread 
far and wide, and no one would entertain her proposals. In three or four 
years Erh-chng had grown up, and he had to be married first. His wife was 
a young lady named Tsang-ku, whose temper turned out to be something 
fearful, and far more ungovernable even than her mother-in-laws. When the 
latter only looked angry, Tsang-ku was already at the shrieking stage; and 
Erh-chng, being of a very meek disposition, dared not side with either. 
Thus it came about that Mrs. An began to be in mortal fear of Tsang-ku; and 
whenever her daughter-in-law was in a rage she would try and turn off her 
anger with a smile. She seemed never to be able to please Tsang-ku, who in 
her turn worked her mother-in-law like a slave, Ta-chng himself not 
venturing to interfere, but only assisting his mother in washing the dishes 
and sweeping the floor. Mother and son would often go to some secluded 
spot, and there in secret tell their griefs to one another; but before long Mrs. 
An was stretched upon a sick-bed with nobody to attend to her except Ta-
chng. He watched her day and night without sleeping, until both eyes were 
red and inflamed; and then when he went to summon the younger son to 
take his place, Tsang-ku told him to leave the house. Ta-chng now went off 
to inform Mrs. Y, hoping that she would come and assist; and he had 
hardly finished his tale of woe before Shan-hu walked in. In great confusion 
at seeing her, he would have left immediately had [p. 232] not Shan held out 
her arms across the door; whereupon he bolted underneath them and 
escaped. He did not dare to tell his mother, and shortly afterwards Mrs. Y 
arrived, to the great joy of Ta-chngs mother, who made her stay in the 
house. Every day something nice was sent for Mrs. Y, and even when she 
told the servants that there was no occasion for it, she having all she wanted 
at her sisters, the things still came as usual. However, she kept none of 
them for herself, but gave what came to the invalid, who gradually began to 
improve. Mrs. Ys grandson also used to come by his mothers orders, and 
inquire after the sick ladys health, besides bringing a packet of cakes and so 
on for her. Ah, me! cried Mrs. An, what a good daughter-in-law you have 
got, to be sure. What have you done to her? What sort of a person was the 


one you sent away? asked her sister in reply. She wasnt as bad as some 
one I know of, said Mrs. An, though not so good as yours. When she was 
here you had but little to do, replied Mrs. Y; and when you were angry 
she took no notice of it. How was she not as good? Mrs. An then burst into 
tears, and saying how sorry she was, asked if Shan-hu had married again; to 
which Mrs. Y replied that she did not know, but would make inquiries. In a 
few more days the patient was quite well, and Mrs. Y proposed to return; 
her sister, however, begged her to stay, and declared she should die if she 
didnt. Mrs. Y then advised that Erh-chng and his wife should live in a 
separate house, and Erh-chng spoke about it to his wife; but she would not 
agree, and abused both Ta-chng and Mrs. Y alike. It ended by Ta-chng 
giving up a large share of the property, and ultimately Tsang-ku consented, 
and a deed of separation was drawn up. Mrs. Y then went away, returning 
next day with a sedan-chair to carry her sister back; and no sooner had the 
latter put her foot inside Mrs. Ys door, than she asked to see the daughter-
in-law, whom she immediately began to praise very highly. Ah, said Mrs. 
Y, shes a good girl, with her little faults like the rest of us; but even if your 
daughter-in-law were as good as mine, you would not be able to appreciate 
her. Alas! replied her sister, I must have been as senseless as a statue 
not to have seen what [p. 233] she was. I wonder what Shan-hu, whom you 
turned out of doors, says of you? rejoined Mrs. Y, Why, swears at me, of 
course, answered Mrs. An. If you examine yourself honestly and find 
nothing which should make people swear at you, is it at all likely you would 
be sworn at? asked Mrs. Y. Well, all people are fallible, replied the other, 
and as I know she is not perfect, I conclude she would naturally swear at 
me. If a person has just cause for resentment, and yet does not indulge 
that resentment, it is obvious how he will repay kindness; or if any one has 
just cause for leaving another and yet does not do so, it is obvious how he 
will act under good treatment. Now, all the things that were sent when you 
were ill, and all the various little attentions, did not come from my daughter-
in-law, but from yours. Mrs. An was amazed at hearing this, and asked for 
some explanation; whereupon Mrs. Y continued, Shan-hu has been living 
here for a long time. Everything she sent to you was bought with money 
earned by her spinning, and that, too, continued late into the night. Mrs. 
An here burst into tears, and begged to be allowed to see Shan-hu, who 
came in at Mrs. Ys summons, and threw herself on the ground at her 
mother-in-laws feet. Mrs. An was much abashed, and beat her head with 
shame; but Mrs. Y made it all up between them, and they became mother 
and daughter as at first. In about ten days they went home, and, as their 
property was not enough to support them, Ta-chng had to work with his 
pen while his wife did the same with her needle. Erh-chng was quite well 
off, but his brother would not apply to him, neither did he himself offer to 
help them. Tsang-ku, too, would have nothing to do with her sister-in-law, 
because she had been divorced; and Shan-hu in her turn, knowing what 
Tsang-kus temper was, made no great efforts to be friendly. So the two 
brothers lived apart;4 and when Tsang-ku was in one of her outrageous 
moods, all the others would stop their ears, till at length there was only her 
husband and the servants upon whom to vent her spleen. One day a maid-
servant of hers committed suicide, and the father of the girl brought an 
action against Tsang-ku [p. 234] for having caused her death. Erh-chng 
went off to the mandarins to take her place as defendant, but only got a 
good beating for his pains, as the magistrate insisted that Tsang-ku herself 
should appear and answer to the charge, in spite of all her friends could do. 
The consequence was she had her fingers squeezed[5] until the flesh was 


entirely taken off; and the magistrate, being a grasping man, a very severe 
fine was inflicted as well. Erh-chng had now to mortgage his property 
before he could raise enough money to get Tsang-ku released; but before 
long the mortgagee threatened to foreclose, and he was obliged to enter into 
negotiations for the sale of it to an old gentleman of the village named Jen. 
Now Mr. Jen knowing that half the property had belonged to Ta-chng, said 
the deed of sale must be signed by the elder brother as well; however, when 
Ta-chng reached his house, the old man cried out, I am Mr. An, M.A.; who 
is this Jen that he should buy my property? Then, looking at Ta-chng, he 
added, The filial piety of you and your wife has obtained for me in the 
realms below this interview; upon which Ta-chng said, O father, since 
you have this power, help my younger brother. The unfilial son and the 
vixenish daughter-in-law, said the old man, deserve no pity. Go home and 
quickly buy back our ancestral property. We have barely enough to live 
upon, replied Ta-chng; where, then, shall we find the necessary money? 
Beneath the crape myrtle-tree,6 answered his father, you will find a store 
of silver, which you may take and use for this purpose. Ta-chng would 
have questioned him further, but the old gentleman said no more, recovering 
consciousness shortly afterwards[7] without knowing a word of what [p. 235] 
had happened. Ta-chng went back and told his brother, who did not 
altogether believe the story; Tsang-ku, however, hurried off with a number of 
men, and had soon dug a hole four or five feet deep, at the bottom of which 
they found a quantity of bricks and stones, but no gold. She then gave up 
the idea and returned home, Ta-chng having meanwhile warned his mother 
and wife not to go near the place while she was digging. When Tsang-ku left, 
Mrs. An went herself to have a look, and seeing only bricks and earth 
mingled together, she too, retraced her steps. Shan-hu was the next to go, 
and she found the hole full of silver bullion; and then Ta-chng repaired to 
the spot and saw that there was no mistake about it. Not thinking it right to 
apply this heirloom to his own private use, he now summoned Erh-chng to 
share it; and having obtained twice as much as was necessary to redeem the 
estate, the brothers returned to their homes. Erh-chng and Tsang-ku 
opened their half together, when lo! the bag was full of tiles and rubbish. 
They at once suspected Ta-chng of deceiving them, and Erh-chng ran off 
to see how things were going at his brothers. He arrived just as Ta-chng 
was spreading the silver on the table, and with his mother and wife rejoicing 
over their acquisition; and when he had told them what had occurred, Ta-
chng expressed much sympathy for him, and at once presented him with 
his own half of the treasure. Erh-chng was delighted, and paid off the 
mortgage on the land, feeling very grateful to his brother for such kindness. 
Tsang-ku, however, declared it was a proof that Ta-chng had been cheating 
him; for how otherwise, argued she, can you understand a man sharing 
anything with another, and then resigning his own half? 

Erh-chng himself did not know what to think of it; but next day the 
mortgagee sent to say that the money paid in was all imitation silver, and 
that he was about to lay the case before the authorities. Husband and wife 
were greatly alarmed at this, and Tsang-ku exclaimed, Well, I never thought 
your brother was as bad as this. Hes simply trying to take your life. Erh-
chng him-self was in a terrible fright, and hurried off to the mortgagee to 
entreat for mercy; but as the latter was extremely angry. and would hear of 
no compromise, Erh-chng was [p. 236] obliged to make over the property to 
him to dispose of himself. The money was then returned, and when he got 
home he found that two lumps had been cut through, showing merely an 


outside layer of silver, about as thick as an onion-leaf, covering nothing but 
copper within. Tsang-ku and Erh-chng then agreed to keep the broken 
pieces themselves, but send the rest back to Ta-chng, with a message, 
saying that they were deeply indebted to him for all his kindness, and that 
they had ventured to retain two of the lumps of silver out of compliment to 
the giver; also that the property which remained to them was still equal to 
Ta-chngs, that they had no use for much land, and accordingly had 
abandoned it, and that Ta-chng could redeem it or not as he pleased. Ta-
chng, who did not perceive the intention in all this, refused to accept the 
land; however, Erh-chng entreated him to do so, and at last he consented. 
When he came to weigh the money, he found it was five ounces short, and 
therefore bade Shan-hu pawn something from her jewel-box to make up the 
amount, with which he proceeded to pay off the mortgage. The mortgagee, 
suspecting it was the same money that had been offered him by Erh-chng, 
cut the pieces in halves, and saw that it was all silver of the purest quality. 
Accordingly he accepted it in liquidation of his claim, and handed the 
mortgage back to Ta-chng. Meanwhile, Erh-chng had been expecting 
some catastrophe; but when he found that the mortgaged land had been 
redeemed, he did not know what to make of it. Tsang-ku thought that at the 
time of the digging Ta-chng had concealed the genuine silver, and 
immediately rushed off to his house, and began to revile them all round. To-
clang now understood why they had sent him back the money; and Shan-hu 
laughed and said, The property is safe; why, then, this anger? Thereupon 
she made Ta-chng hand over the deeds to Tsang-ku. 

One night after this Erh-chngs father appeared to him in a dream, 
and reproached him, saying, Unfilial son, unfraternal brother, your hour is 
at hand. Wherefore usurp rights that do not belong to you? In the morning 
Erh-chng told Tsang-ku of his dream, and proposed to return the property 
to his brother; but she only laughed at him for a fool. Just then the eldest of 
[p. 237] his two sons, a boy of seven, died of small-pox, and this frightened 
Tsang-ku so that she agreed to restore the deeds. Ta-chng would not 
accept them; and now the second child, a boy of three, died also; whereupon 
Tsang-ku seized the deeds, and threw them into her brother-in-laws house. 
Spring was over, but the land was in a terribly neglected state; so Ta-chng 
set to work and put it in order again. From this moment Tsang-ku was a 
changed woman towards her mother- and sister-in-law; and when, six 
months later, Mrs. An died, she was so grieved that she refused to take any 
nourishment. Alas cried she, that my mother-in-law has died thus early, 
and prevented me from waiting upon her. Heaven will not allow me to 
retrieve my past errors. Tsang-ku had thirteen children,8 but as none of 
them lived, they were obliged to adopt one of Ta-chngs,9 who, with his wife, 
lived to a good old age, and had three sons, two of whom took their doctors 
degree. People said this was a reward for filial piety and brotherly love. 

 

1 See No. XLIII., note 2. 

2 See No. LIII, note 1. 

3 Such is the Chinese idiom for what we should call bitter tears. 
This phrase is constantly employed in the notices of the death of a parent 
sent round to friends and relatives. 

4 A disgraceful state of things, in the eyes of the Chinese. See the 
paraphrase of the Sacred Edict, Maxim 1. 


5 An illegal form of punishment, under the present dynasty, which 
authorises only bambooing of two kinds, each of five degrees of severity; 
banishment, of three degrees of duration; transportation for life, of three 
degrees of distance; and death, of two kinds, namely, by strangulation and 
decapitation. That torture is occasionally resorted to by Chinese officials is 
an indisputable fact; that it is commonly employed by the whole body of 
mandarins could only be averred by those who have not had the 
opportunities or the desire to discover the actual truth. 

6 Lagerstraemia indica, L. 

7 That is, old Mr. Jens body had been possessed by the disembodied 
spirit of Ta-chngs father. 

8 Five is considered a large number for an ordinary Chinese woman. 

9 In order to leave some one behind to look after their graves and 
perform the duties of ancestral worship. No one can well refuse to give a son 
to be adopted by a childless brother. 

LVI. DR. TSNGS DREAM 

THERE was a Fuhkien gentleman named Tsng, who had just taken 
his doctors degree. One day he was out walking with several other recently 
elected doctors, when they heard that at a temple hard by there lived an 
astrologer, and accordingly the party proceeded thither to get their fortunes 
told. They went in and sat down, and the astrologer made some very 
complimentary remarks to Tsng, at which he fanned himself and smiled, 
saying, Have I any chance of ever wearing the dragon robes and the jade 
girdle?1 The astrologer[2] immediately put on a serious face, and replied 
that he would be a Secretary of State during twenty years of national 
tranquillity. Thereupon Tsng was much pleased, and began to give himself 
greater airs than ever. 

A slight rain coming on, they sought shelter in the priests quarters, [p. 
238] where they found an old bonze, with sunken eyes and a big nose, 
sitting upon a mat. He took no notice of the strangers, who, after having 
bowed to him, stretched themselves upon the couches to chat, not forgetting 
to congratulate Tsng upon the destiny which had been foretold him. Tsng, 
too, seemed to think the thing was a matter of certainty, and mentioned the 
names of several friends he intended to advance, amongst others the old 
family butler. Roars of laughter greeted this announcement, mingled with 
the patter-patter of the increasing rain outside. 

Tsng then curled himself up for a nap, when suddenly in walked two 
officials bearing a commission under the Great Seal appointing Tsng to the 
Grand Secretariat. As soon as Tsng understood their errand, he rushed off 
at once to pay his respects to the Emperor, who graciously detained him 
some time in conversation, and then issued instructions that the promotion 
and dismissal of all officers below the third grade[3] should be vested in 
Tsng alone. He was next presented with the dragon robes, the jade girdle, 
and a horse from the imperial stables, after which he performed the ko-
tou[4] before His Majesty and took his leave. 

He then went home, but it was no longer the old home of his youth. 
Painted beams, carved pillars, and a general profusion of luxury and 
elegance, made him wonder where on earth he was; until, nervously stroking 


his beard, he ventured to call out in a low tone. Immediately the responses 
of numberless attendants echoed through the place like thunder. Presents of 
costly food were sent to him by all the grandees, and his gate was absolutely 
blocked up by the crowds of retainers who were constantly coming and going. 
When Privy Councillors came to see him, he would rush out in haste to 
receive them; when Under-Secretaries of State visited him, he made them a 
polite bow; but to all below these he would hardly vouchsafe a word. The 
Governor of Shansi sent him twelve singing-girls, two of whom, Ni-ni and 
Fairy, he made his favourites. All day long he had nothing to do but find 
amusement as best he could, until he bethought himself that formerly [p. 
239] a man named Wang had often assisted him with money. Thereupon he 
memorialised the Throne and obtained official employment for him. Then he 
recollected that there was another man to whom he owed a long-standing 
grudge. He at once caused this man, who was in the Government service, to 
be impeached and stripped of his rank and dignities. Thus he squared 
accounts with both. 

One day when out in his chair a drunken man bumped against one of 
his tablet-bearers.5 Tsng had him seized and sent in to the mayors yamn, 
where he died under the bamboo. Owners of land adjoining his would make 
him a present of the richest portions, fearing the consequences if they did 
not do so; and thus he became very wealthy, almost on a par with the State 
itself. By-and-by, Ni-ni and Fairy died, and Tsng was overwhelmed with 
grief. Suddenly he remembered that in former years he had seen a beautiful 
girl whom he wished to purchase as a concubine, but want of money had 
then prevented him from carrying out his intention. Now there was no longer 
that difficulty; and accordingly he sent off two trusty servants to get the girl 
by force. In a short time she arrived, when he found that she had grown 
more beautiful than ever; and so his cup of happiness was full. 

But years rolled on, and gradually his fellow-officials became 
estranged, Tsng taking no notice of their behaviour, until at last one of 
them impeached him to the Throne in a long and bitter memorial. Happily, 
however, the Emperor still regarded him with favour, and for some time kept 
the memorial by him unanswered. Then followed a joint memorial from the 
whole of the Privy Council, including those who had once thronged his doors, 
and had falsely called him their dear father. [p. 240] The Imperial rescript to 
this document was Banishment to Ynnan,6 his son, who was Governor of 
Ping-yang, being also implicated in his guilt. When Tsng heard the news, 
he was overcome with fear; but an armed guard was already at his gate, and 
the lictors were forcing their way into his innermost apartments. They tore 
off his robe and official hat, and bound him and his wife with cords. Then 
they collected together in the hall his gold, his silver, and bank-notes,7 to 
the value of many hundred thousands of taels. His pearls, and jade, and 
precious stones filled many bushel baskets. His curtains, and screens, and 
beds, and other articles of furniture were brought out by thousands; while 
the swaddling-clothes of his infant boy and the shoes of his little girl were 
lying littered about the steps. It was a sad sight for Tsng; but a worse blow 
was that of his concubine carried off almost lifeless before his eyes, himself 
not daring to utter a word. Then all the apartments, store-rooms, and 
treasuries were sealed up; and, with a volley of curses, the soldiers bade 
Tsng begone, and proceeded to leave the place, dragging him with them. 
The husband and wife prayed that they might be allowed some old cart, but 
this favour was denied them. After about ten li, Tsngs wife could barely 
walk, her feet being swollen and sore. Tsng helped her along as best he 


could, but another ten li reduced him to a state of abject fatigue. 

By-and-by they saw before them a great mountain, the summit of 
which was lost in the clouds; and, fearing they should be made to ascend it, 
Tsng and his wife stood still and began to weep. The lictors, however, 
clamoured round them, and would permit of no rest. The sun was rapidly 
sinking, and there was no place at hand where they could obtain shelter for 
the night. So they continued on their weary way until about half-way up the 
hill, when his wifes strength was quite exhausted, and she sat down by the 
roadside. Tsng, too, halted to rest in spite of the soldiers and their abuse; 
but they had hardly stopped a moment before down came a band of robbers 
upon them, [p. 241] each with a sharp knife in his hand. The soldiers 
immediately took to their heels, and Tsng fell on his knees before the 
robbers, saying, I am a poor criminal going into banishment, and have 
nothing to give you. I pray you spare my life. But the robbers sternly replied, 
We are all the victims of your crimes, and now we want your wicked head. 
Then Tsng began to revile them, saying, Dogs! though I am under sentence 
of banishment, I am still an officer of the State. But the robbers cursed him 
again, flourishing a sword over his neck, and the next thing he heard was 
the noise of his own head as it fell with a thud to the ground. At the same 
instant two devils stepped forward and seized him each by one hand, 
compelling him to go with them. 

After a little while they arrived at a great city where there was a 
hideously ugly king sitting upon a throne judging between good and evil. 
Tsng crawled before him on his hands and knees to receive sentence, and 
the king, after turning over a few pages of his register, thundered out, The 
punishment of a traitor who has brought misfortune on his country: the 
cauldron of boiling oil! To this ten thousand devils responded with a cry like 
a clap of thunder, and one huge monster led Tsng down alongside the 
cauldron, which was seven feet in height, and surrounded on all sides by 
blazing fuel, so that it was of a glowing red heat. Tsng shrieked for mercy, 
but it was all up with him, for the devil seized him by the hair and the small 
of his back and pitched him headlong in. Down he fell with a splash, and 
rose and sank with the bubbling of the oil, which ate through his flesh into 
his very vitals. He longed to die, but death would not come to him. 

After about half-an-hours boiling, a devil took him out on a pitchfork 
and threw him down before the Infernal King, who again consulted his note-
book, and said, You relied on your position to treat others with contumely 
and injustice, for which you must suffer on the Sword-Hill. Again he was 
led away by devils to a large hill thickly studded with sharp swords, their 
points upwards like the shoots of bamboo, with here and there the remains 
of many miserable wretches who had suffered before him. Tsng again cried 
for mercy and crouched upon the ground; but a devil bored into him with a 
poisoned [p. 242] awl until he screamed with pain. He was then seized and 
flung up high into the air, falling down right on the sword-points, to his 
most frightful agony. This was repeated several times until he was almost 
hacked to pieces. 

He was then brought once more before the king, who asked what was 
the amount of his peculations while on earth. Immediately an accountant 
came forward with an abacus, and said that the whole sum was 3,210,000 
taels, whereupon the king replied, Let him drink that amount. Forthwith 
the devils piled up a great heap of gold and silver, and, when they had 
melted it in a huge crucible, began pouring it into Tsngs mouth. The pain 


was excruciating as the molten metal ran down his throat into his vitals; but 
since in life he had never been able to get enough of the dross, it was 
determined he should feel no lack of it then. 

He was half-a-day drinking it, and then the king ordered him away to 
be born again as a woman8 in Kan-chou. A few steps brought them to a 
huge frame, where on an iron axle revolved a mighty wheel many hundred 
yojanas[2] in circumference, and shining with a brilliant light. The devils 
flogged Tsng on to the wheel, and he shut his eyes as he stepped up. Then 
whizand away he went, feet foremost, round with the wheel, until he felt 
himself tumble off and a cold thrill ran through him, when he opened his 
eyes and found he was changed into a girl. He saw his father and mother in 
rags and tatters, and in one corner a beggars bowl and a staff,10 and 
understood the calamity that had befallen him. Day after day he begged 
about the streets, and his inside rumbled for want of food; he had no clothes 
to his back. 

At fourteen years of age he was sold to a gentleman as concubine; and 
then, though food and clothes were not wanting, he had to put up with the 
scoldings and floggings of the wife, who one day burnt him with a hot 
iron.11 Luckily the gentleman took a [p. 243] fancy to him and treated him 
well, which kindness Meng repaid by an irreproachable fidelity. 

It happened, however, that on one occasion when they were chatting 
together, burglars broke into the house and killed the gentleman, Tsng 
having escaped by hiding himself under the bed. Thereupon he was 
immediately charged by the wife with murder, and on being taken before the 
authorities was sentenced to die the lingering death.12 This sentence was 
at once carried out with tortures more horrible than any in all the Courts of 
Purgatory, in the middle of which Tsng heard one of his companions call 
out Hello, there! youve got nightmare. Tsng got up and rubbed his eyes, 
and his friends said, Its quite late in the day, and were all very hungry. 
But the old priest smiled, and asked him if the prophecy as to his future 
rank was true or not. Tsng bowed and begged him to explain; whereupon 
the old priest said, For those who cultivate virtue, a lily will grow up even in 
the fiery pit.13 Tsng had gone thither full of pride and vainglory; he went 
home an altered man. From that day he thought no more of becoming a 
Secretary of State, but retired into the hills, and I know not what became of 
him after that. 

 

1 That is, of rising to the highest offices of State. 

2 The Chinese term used throughout is star-man. 

3 Chinese official life is divided into nine grades. 

4 Prostrating himself three times, and knocking his head on the 
ground thrice at each prostration. 

5 The retinue of a high mandarin is composed as follows:First, gong-
bearers, then banner-men, tablet-bearers (on which tablets are inscribed the 
titles of the official), a large red umbrella, mounted attendants, a box 
containing a change of clothes, bearers of regalia, a second gong, a small 
umbrella or sunshade, a large wooden fan, executioners, lictors from hell, 
who wear tall hats; a mace (called a golden melon), bamboos for 
bambooing, incense-bearers, more attendants, and now the great man 


himself, followed by a body-guard of soldiers and a few personal attendants, 
amounting in all to nearly one hundred persons, many of whom are mere 
street-rowdies or beggars, hired at a trifling outlay when required to join 
what might otherwise be an imposing procession. 

6 A land journey of about three months, ending in a region which the 
Chinese have always regarded as semi-barbarous. 

7 From A.D. 1154 the use of paper money became quite common in 
China. 

8 This contingency is much dreaded by the Chinese. 

9 A yojana has been variously estimated at from five to nine English 
miles. 

10 The patra and khakkharam of the bikshu or Buddhist mendicant. 

11 It is not considered quite correct to take a concubine unless the 
wife is childless, in which case it is held that the proposition to do so, and 
thus secure the much-desired posterity, should emanate from the wife 
herself. On page 41 of Vol. XIII. of this author, we read, and if at thirty 
years of age you have no children, then sell your hair-pins and other 
ornaments, and buy a concubine for your husband. For the childless state is 
a hard one to bear; or, as Victor Hugo puts it in his Lgende des Sicles, 
there is nothing so sad as la maison sans enfants. 

12 This is the celebrated form of death, reserved for parricide and 
similar awful crimes, about which so much has been written. Strictly 
speaking, the malefactor should be literally chopped to pieces in order to 
prolong his agonies; but the sentence is now rarely, if ever, carried out in its 
extreme sense. A few gashes are made upon the wretched victims body, and 
he is soon put out of his misery by decapitation. 

13 Alluding to a well-known Buddhist miracle, in which a bikshu was 
to be thrown into a cauldron of boiling water in a fiery pit, when suddenly a 
lotus-flower came forth, the fire was extinguished, and the water became 
cold. [p. 

LVII. THE COUNTRY OF THE CANNIBALS[1] 

AT Chiao-chou[2] there lived a man named Hs, who gained his living 
by trading across the sea. On one occasion he was carried far out of his 
course by a violent tempest, and [p. 244] reached a country of high hills and 
dense jungle,3 where, after making fast his boat and taking provisions with 
him, he landed, hoping to meet with some of the inhabitants. He then saw 
that the rocks were covered with large holes, like the cells of bees; and, 
hearing the sound of voices from within, he stopped in front of one of them 
and peeped in. To his infinite horror he beheld two hideous beings, with 
thick rows of horrid fangs, and eyes that glared like lamps, engaged in 
tearing to pieces and devouring some raw deers flesh; and, turning round, 
he would have fled instantly from the spot, had not the cannibals already 
espied him; and, leaving their food, they seized him and dragged him in. 
Thereupon ensued a chattering between them, resembling the noise of birds 
or beasts,4 and they proceeded to pull off Hss clothes as if about to eat 
him but Hs, who was frightened almost to death, offered them the food he 
had in his wallet, which they ate up with great relish, and looked inside for 
more. Hs waved his hand to show it was all finished, and then they angrily 


seized him again; at which he cried out, I have a saucepan in my boat, and 
can cook you some. The cannibals did not understand what he said; but, by 
dint of gesticulating freely, they at length seemed to have an idea of what he 
meant; and, having taken him down to the shore to fetch the saucepan, they 
returned with him to the cave, where he lighted a fire and cooked the 
remainder of the deer, with the flavour of which they appeared to be mightily 
pleased. 

At night they rolled a big stone to the mouth of the cave,5 fearing lest 
he should try to escape; and Hs himself lay down at a distance from them 
in doubt as to whether his life would be spared. At daybreak the cannibals 
went out, leaving the entrance blocked, and by-and-by came back with a 
deer, which they gave to Hs to cook. Hs flayed the carcase, and from a 
remote [p. 245] corner of the cave took some water and prepared a large 
quantity, which was no sooner ready than several other cannibals arrived to 
join in the feast. When they had finished all there was, they made signs that 
Hss sauce-pan was too small; and three or four days afterwards they 
brought him a large one, of the same shape as those in common use 
amongst men, subsequently furnishing him with constant supplies of wolf 
and deer,6 of which they always invited him to partake. 

By degrees they began to treat him kindly, and not to shut him up 
when they went out; and Hs, too, gradually learnt to understand, and even 
to speak, a little of their language, which pleased them so much that they 
finally gave him a cannibal woman for his wife. Hs was horribly afraid of 
her; but, as she treated him with great consideration, always reserving tit-
bits of food for him, they lived very happily together. 

One day all the cannibals got up early in the morning, and, having 
adorned themselves with strings of fine pearls, they went forth as if to meet 
some honoured guest, giving orders to Hs to cook an extra quantity of meat 
that day. It is the birthday of our King, said Hss wife to him; and then, 
running out, she informed the other cannibals that her husband had no 
pearls. So each gave five from his own string, and Hss wife added ten to 
these, making in all fifty, which she threaded on a hempen fibre and hung 
around his neck, each pearl being worth over a hundred ounces of silver. 
Then they went away, and as soon as Hs had finished his cooking his wife 
appeared and invited him to come and receive the King. So off they went to a 
huge cavern, covering about a mow[7]] of ground, in which was a huge stone, 
smoothed away at the top like a table, with stone seats at the four sides. At 
the upper end was a dais, over which was spread a leopards skin, the other 
seats having only deer-skins; and within the cavern some twenty or thirty 
cannibals ranged themselves on the seats. 

After a short [p. 246] interval a great wind began to stir up the dust, 
and they all rushed out to a creature very much resembling themselves, 
which hurried into the cave, and, squatting down cross-legged, cocked its 
head and looked about like a cormorant. The other cannibals then filed in 
and took up their positions right and left of the dais, where they stood gazing 
up at the King with their arms folded before them in the form of a cross. The 
King counted them one by one, and asked if they were all present; and when 
they replied in the affirmative, he looked at Hs and inquired who he was. 
Thereupon Hss wife stepped forward and said he was her husband, and 
the others all loudly extolled his skill in cookery, two of them running out 
and bringing back some cooked meat, which they set before the King. His 
Majesty swallowed it by handfuls, and found it so nice that he gave orders to 


be supplied regularly; and then, turning to Hs he asked him why his string 
of beads[8] was so short. He has but recently arrived among us, replied the 
cannibals, and hasnt got a complete set; upon which the King drew ten 
pearls from the string round his own neck and bestowed them upon Hs. 
Each was as big as the top of ones finger and as round as a bullet and Hss 
wife threaded them for him and hung them round his neck. Hs himself 
crossed his arms and thanked the King in the language of the country, after 
which His Majesty went off in a gust of wind as rapidly as a bird can fly, and 
the cannibals sat down and finished what was left of the banquet. 

Four years afterwards Hss wife gave birth to a triplet of two boys 
and one girl, all of whom were ordinary human beings, and not at all like the 
mother; at which the other cannibals were delighted, and would often play 
with them and caress them.9 Three years passed away, and the children 
could walk about, after which their father taught them to speak his own 
tongue and in their early babblings their human origin was manifested. The 
boys, as mere [p. 247] children, could climb about on the mountains as 
easily as though walking upon a level road; and between them and their 
father there grew up a mutual feeling of attachment. 

One day the mother had gone out with the girl and one of the boys, 
and was absent for a long time. A strong north wind was blowing, and Hs, 
filled with thoughts of his old home, led his other son down with him to the 
beach, where lay the boat in which he had formerly reached this country. He 
then proposed to the boy that they should go away together; and, having 
explained to him that they could not inform his mother, father and son 
stepped on board, and after a voyage of only twenty-four hours, arrived 
safely at Chiao-chou. 

On reaching home Hs found that his wife had married again; so he 
sold two of his pearls for an enormous sum of money,10 and set up a 
splendid establishment. His son was called Piao, and at fourteen or fifteen 
years of age the boy could lift a weight of three thousand catties[11] (4000 
lb.). He was extremely fond of athletics of all kinds, and thus attracted the 
notice of the Commander-in-Chief, who gave him a commission as sub-
lieutenant. Just at that time there happened to be some trouble on the 
frontier, and young Piao, having covered himself with glory, was made a 
colonel at the age of eighteen. 

About that time another merchant was driven by stress of weather to 
the country of the cannibals, and had hardly stepped ashore before he 
observed a young man whom he knew at once to be of Chinese origin. The 
young man asked him whence he came, and finally took him into a cave hid 
away in a dark valley and concealed by the dense jungle. There he bade him 
remain, and in a little while he returned with some deers flesh, which he 
gave the merchant to eat, saying at the same time that his own father was a 
Chiao-chou man. The merchant now knew that the young man was Hss 
son, he himself being acquainted with Hsas a trader in the same line of 
business. Why, hes an old friend of mine, cried the latter; his other son is 
now a colonel. The young man did not know what was meant [p. 248] by a 
colonel, so the merchant told him it was the title of a Chinese mandarin. 
And what is a mandarin? asked the youth. A mandarin, replied the 
merchant, is one who goes out with a chair and horses; who at home sits 
upon a dais in the hall; whose summons is answered by a hundred voices; 
who is looked at only with sidelong eyes, and in whose presence all people 
stand aslant;this is to be a mandarin. The young man was deeply touched 


at this recital, and at length. the merchant said to him, Since your 
honoured father is at Chiao-chou, why do you remain here? Indeed, 
replied the youth, I have often indulged the same feeling; but my mother is 
not a Chinese woman, and, apart from the difference of her language and 
appearance, I fear that if the other cannibals found it out they would do us 
some mischief. He then took his leave, being in rather a disturbed state of 
mind, and bade the merchant wait until the wind should prove 
favourable,12 when he promised to come and see him off, and charge him 
with a letter to his father and brother. Six months the merchant remained in 
that cave, occasionally taking a peep at the cannibals passing backwards 
and forwards, but not daring to leave his retreat. 

As soon as the monsoon set in the young man arrived and urged him 
to hurry away, begging him, also, not to forget the letter to his father. So the 
merchant sailed away and soon reached Chiao-chou, where he visited the 
colonel and told him the whole story. Piao was much affected, and wished to 
go in search of those members of the family; but his father feared the 
dangers he would encounter, and advised him not to think of such a thing. 
However, Piao was not to be deterred; and having imparted his scheme to 
the Commander-in-Chief, he took with him two soldiers and set off. Adverse 
winds prevailed at that time, and they beat about for half a moon, until they 
were out of sight of all land, could not see a foot before them, and had 
completely lost their reckoning. 

Just then a mighty sea arose and capsized their boat, tossing Piao 
into the water, where he floated about for some time at the will of the waves, 
until suddenly somebody dragged him out and carried him into a house. 
Then he saw that his rescuer was to all appearances a cannibal, and 
accordingly he addressed him [p. 249] in the language of the country, and 
told him whither he himself was bound. It is my native place, replied the 
cannibal, in astonishment; but you will excuse my saying that you are now 
8000 li out of your course. This is the way to the country of the Poisonous 
Dragons, and not your route at all. He then went off to find a boat for Piao, 
and, himself swimming in the water behind, pushed it along like an arrow 
from a bow, so quickly that by the next day they had traversed the whole 
distance. 

On the shore Piao observed a young man walking up and down and 
evidently watching him; and, knowing that no human beings dwelt there, he 
guessed at once that he was his brother. Approaching more closely, he saw 
that he was right; and, seizing the young mans hand, he asked after his 
mother and sister. On hearing that they were well, he would have gone 
directly to see them; but the younger one begged him not to do so, and ran 
away himself to fetch them. Meanwhile, Piao turned to thank the cannibal 
who had brought him there, but he, too, had disappeared. In a few minutes 
his mother and sister arrived, and, on seeing Piao, they could not restrain 
their tears. Piao then laid his scheme before them, and when they said they 
feared people would ill-treat them, he replied, In China I hold a high 
position, and people will not dare to show you disrespect. Thus they 
determined to go. 

The wind, however, was against them, and mother and son were at a 
loss what to do, when suddenly the sail bellied out towards the south, and a 
rustling sound was heard. Heaven helps us, my mother! cried Piao, full of 
joy; and, hurrying on board at once, in three days they had reached their 
destination. As they landed the people fled right and left in fear, Piao having 


divided his own clothes amongst the party; and when they arrived at the 
house, and his mother saw Hs, she began to rate him soundly for running 
away without her. Hs hastened to acknowledge his error, and then all the 
family and servants were introduced to her, each one being in mortal dread 
of such a singular personage. 

Piao now bade his mother learn to talk Chinese, and gave her any 
quantity of fine clothes and rich meats, to the infinite delight of the old lady. 
She and her daughter both dressed in mans clothes, and by the end of a few 
months were able to understand what was said to them. [p. 250] The brother, 
named Pao (Leopard), and the sister, Yeh (Night), were both clever enough, 
and immensely strong into the bargain. Piao was ashamed that Pao could 
not read, and set to work to teach him; and the youngster was so quick that 
he learnt the Sacred Books[13] and histories by merely reading them once 
over. However, he would not enter upon a literary career, loving better to 
draw a strong bow or ride a spirited horse, and finally taking the highest 
military degree. 

He married the daughter of a post-captain; but his sister had some 
trouble in getting a husband, because of her being the child of a cannibal 
woman. At length a serjeant, named Yan, who was under her brothers 
command, and had become a widower, consented to take her as his wife. 
She could draw a hundred-catty bow, and shoot birds at a hundred paces 
without ever missing. Whenever Yan went on a campaign she went with 
him; and his subsequent rise to high rank was chiefly due to her. 

At thirty-four years of age Pao got a command; and in his great battles 
his mother, clad in armour and grasping a spear, would fight by his side, to 
the terror of all their adversaries; and when he himself received the dignity of 
an hereditary title, he memorialised the Throne to grant his mother the title 
of lady. 

_____________________________ 

1 The Chinese termhere translated cannibalsis a meaningless 
imitation by two Chinese characters of the Sanscrit yakcha, or certain 
demons who feed upon human flesh. 

2 Hu, the capital of Cochin-China. 

3 The island of Hainan, inhabited as it was in earlier times by a race 
of savages, is the most likely source of the following marvellous adventures. 

4 To which sounds the languages of the West have been more than 
once likened by the Chinese. It is only fair, however, to the lettered classes to 
state that they have a similar contempt for their own local dialects; regarding 
Mandarin, or the Court dialect, as the only form of speech worthy to be 
employed by men. 

5 The occasional analogies to the story of the Cyclops must be evident 
to all readers. 

6. The animal here mentioned is the plain brown deer, or Rusa 
Swinhoii, of Formosa, in which island I should prefer to believe, but for the 
great distance from Hu, that the scenes here narrated took place. 

7 About one-sixth of an acre. On old title-deeds of landed property in 
China may still be seen measurements calculated according to the amount 
of grain that could be sown thereon. 


8 The king here uses the words ku-tu-tzu, which are probably 
intended by the author to be an imitation of a term in the savage tongue. 

9 Fondness for children is specially a trait of Chinese character; and a 
single baby would do far more to ensure the safety of a foreign traveller in 
China than all the usual paraphernalia of pocket-pistols and revolvers. 

10 Literally, a million of taels. 

11 Here again we have 100 chn, one chn being equal to about 40 lb. 
Chinese weights, measures, distances, numbers, &c., are often very loosely 
employed; and it is probable that not more than 100 catties, say 133 lb., is 
here meant. 

12 That is, until the change of the monsoon from S.W. to N.E. 

13 See No. XLI., note 2. 

 

Section 3: Stories 58-103 

 


STRANGE STORIES FROM A CHINESE STUDIO 

by Pu Sung-ling 

 

Section 3 

 

Title Page, Table of Contents, and Introductions 

Section 1: Stories 1-25 

Section 2: Stories 26-57 

Section 4: Stories 104-164 and Appendices 

LVIII. FOOT-BALL ON THE TUNG-TING LAKE 

WANG SHIH-HSIU was a native of Lu-chou, and such a lusty fellow that he 
could pick up a stone mortar.1 Father and son were both good foot-ball players; but 
when the former was about forty years of age he was drowned while crossing the 
Money Pool.2 Some eight or nine years later our hero happened to be on his way to 
Hunan; and anchoring in the Tung-ting lake, watched the moon rising in the east and 
illuminating the water into a bright sheet of light. While he was thus engaged, lo! from 
out of the lake emerged five men, bringing with them a large mat, which they spread 
on the surface of the water so as to cover about six yards square. Wine and food were 
then arranged upon it, and Wang heard the sound of the dishes knocking together, 
but it was a dull, soft sound, not at all like that of ordinary [p. 251] crockery. Three of 
the men sat down on the mat and the other two waited upon them. One of the former 
was dressed in yellow, the other two in white, and each wore a black turban. Their 
demeanour as they sat there side by side was grave and dignified; in appearance they 
resembled three of the ancients, but by the fitful beams of the moon Wang was unable 
to see very clearly what they were like. The attendants wore black serge dresses, and 
one of them seemed to be a boy, while the other was many years older. 

Wang now heard the man in the yellow dress say, This is truly a fine moonlight 
night for a drinking bout; to which one of his companions replied, It quite reminds 
me of the night when Prince Kuang-li feasted at Pear-blossom Island.3 The three then 
pledged each other in bumping goblets, talking all the time in such a low tone that 
Wang could not hear what they were saying. The boatmen kept themselves concealed, 
crouching down at the bottom of the boat; but Wang looked hard at the attendants, 
the elder of whom bore a striking resemblance to his father, though he spoke in quite 
a different tone of voice. 

When it was drawing towards midnight, one of them proposed a game at ball; 
and in a moment the boy disappeared in the water, to return immediately with a huge 
ballquite an armful in factapparently full of quicksilver, and lustrous within and 
without. All now rose up, and the man in the yellow dress bade the old attendant join 
them in the game. The ball was kicked up some ten or fifteen feet in the air, and was 
quite dazzling in its brilliancy; but once, when it had gone up with a whish-h-h-h, it 
fell at some distance off, right in the very middle of Wangs boat. The occasion was 
irresistible, and Wang, exerting all his strength, kicked the ball with all his might. It 
seemed unusually light and soft to the touch, and his foot broke right through. Away 
went the ball to a good height, pouring forth a stream of light like a rainbow from the 
hole Wang had made, and making as it fell a curve like that of a comet rushing across 


the sky. Down it glided into the water, where it fizzed a moment and then went out. 

Ho, there! cried out the players in anger, what living creature is that who 
dares thus to interrupt our sport? Well kicked [p. 252] indeed! said the old man, 
thats a favourite drop-kick of my own. At this, one of the two in white clothes began 
to abuse him, saying, What you old baggage, when we are all so annoyed in this 
manner, are you to come forward and make a joke of it? Go at once with the boy and 
bring back to us this practical joker, or your own back will have a taste of the stick. 
Wang was of course unable to flee; however, he was not a bit afraid, and grasping a 
sword stood there in the middle of the boat. In a moment, the old man and boy arrived, 
also armed, and then Wang knew that the former was really his father, and called out 
to him at once, Father, I am your son. The old man was greatly alarmed, but father 
and son forgot their troubles in the joy of meeting once again. 

Meanwhile, the boy went back, and Wangs father bade him hide, or they would 
all be lost. The words were hardly out of his mouth when the three men jumped on 
board the boat. Their faces were black as pitch, their eyes as big as pomegranates, and 
they at once proceeded to seize the old man. Wang struggled hard with them, and 
managing to get the boat free from her moorings, he seized his sword and cut off one 
of his adversaries arms. The arm dropped down and the man in the yellow dress ran 
away; whereupon one of those in white rushed at Wang, who immediately cut off his 
head, and he fell into the water with a splash, at which the third disappeared. 

Wang and his father were now anxious to get away, when suddenly a great 
mouth arose from the lake, as big and as deep as a well, and against which they could 
hear the noise of the water when it struck. This mouth blew forth a violent gust of 
wind, and in a moment the waves were mountains high and all the boats on the lake 
were tossing about. The boatmen were terrified, but Wang seized one of two huge 
stones there were on board for use as anchors,4 about 130 lb. in weight, and threw it 
into the water, which immediately began to subside; and then he threw in the other 
one, upon which the wind dropped, and the lake became calm again. 

Wang thought his father was a disembodied spirit, but the old man said, I 
never died. There were nineteen of us drowned in [p. 253] the river, all of whom were 
eaten by the fish-goblins except myself: I was saved because I could play foot-ball. 
Those you saw got into trouble with the Dragon King, and were sent here. They were 
all marine creatures, and the ball they were playing with was a fish-bladder. Father 
and son were overjoyed at meeting again, and at once proceeded on their way. In the 
morning they found in the boat a huge finthe arm that Wang had cut off the night 
before. 

 

1 Used for pounding rice. 

2 A fancy name for the Tung-ting lake. See No. XXXVIII., note 1 . 

3 The commentator declares himself unable to trace this allusion. 

4 These are bound in between several sharp-pointed stakes, and serve their 
purpose very well in the inland waters of China. 

LIX. THE THUNDER GOD 

YO YN-HAO and Hsia Ping-tz. lived as boys in the same village, and when 


they grew up read with the same tutor, becoming the firmest of friends. Hsia was a 
clever fellow, and had acquired some reputation even at the early age of ten. Yo was 
not a bit envious, but rather looked up to him, and Hsia in return helped his friend 
very much with his studies, so that he, too, made considerable progress. This 
increased Hsias fame, though try as he would he could never succeed at the public 
examinations, and by-and-by he sickened and died. His family was so poor they could 
not find money for his burial, whereupon Yo came foward and paid all expenses, 
besides taking care of his widow and children. Every peck or bushel he would share 
with them, the widow trusting entirely to his support; and thus he acquired a good 
name in the village, though not being a rich man himself he soon ran through all his 
own property. Alas! cried he, where talents like Hsias failed, can I expect to succeed? 
Wealth and rank are matters of destiny, and my present career will only end by my 
dying like a dog in a ditch. I must try something else. So he gave up book-learning 
and went into trade, and in six months he had a trifle of money in hand. 

One day when he was resting at an inn in Nanking, he saw a great big fellow 
walk in and seat himself at no great distance in a very melancholy mood. Yo asked 
him if he was hungry, and on receiving no answer, pushed some food over towards 
him. The stranger immediately set to feeding himself by handfuls, and in no time the 
whole had disappeared. Yo ordered another supply, but that was quickly disposed of 
in like manner; and then he told the [p. 254] landlord to bring a shoulder of pork and 
a quantity of boiled dumplings. Thus, after eating enough for half a dozen, his appetite 
was appeased and he turned to thank his benefactor, saying, For three years I havent 
had such a meal. And why should a fine fellow like you be in such a state of 
destitution? inquired Yo; to which the other only replied, The judgments of heaven 
may not be discussed. Being asked where he lived, the stranger replied, On land I 
have no home, on the water no boat; at dawn in the village, at night in the city. Yo 
then prepared to depart; but his friend would not leave him, declaring that he was in 
imminent danger, and that he could not forget the late kindness Yo had shown him. 
So they went along together, and on the way Yo invited the other to eat with him; but 
this he refused, saying that he only took food occasionally. 

Yo marvelled more than ever at this; and next day when they were on the river a 
great storm arose and capsized all their boats, Yo himself being thrown into the water 
with the others. Suddenly the gale abated and the stranger bore Yo on his back to 
another boat, plunging at once into the water and bringing back the lost vessel, upon 
which he placed Yo and bade him remain quietly there. He then returned once more, 
this time carrying in his arms a part of the cargo, which he replaced in the vessel, and 
so he went on until it was all restored. Yo thanked him, saying, It was enough to save 
my life; but you have added to this the restoration of my goods. Nothing, in fact, had 
been lost, and now Yo began to regard the stranger as something more than human. 

The latter here wished to take his leave, but Yo pressed him so much to stay 
that at last he consented to remain. Then Yo remarked that after all he had lost a gold 
pin, and immediately the stranger plunged into the water again, rising at length to the 
surface with the missing article in his mouth, and presenting it to Yo with the remark 
that he was delighted to be able to fulfil his commands. The people on the river were 
all much astonished at what they saw; meanwhile Yo went home with his friend, and 
there they lived together, the big man only eating once in ten or twelve days, but then 
displaying an enormous appetite. 

One day he spoke of going away, to which Yo [p. 255] would by no means 


consent; and as it was just then about to rain and thunder, he asked him to tell him 
what the clouds were like, and what thunder was, also how he could get up to the sky 
and have a look, so as to set his mind at rest on the subject. Would you like to have a 
ramble among the clouds? asked the stranger, as Yo was lying down to take a nap; on 
awaking from which he felt himself spinning along through the air, and not at all as if 
he was lying on a bed. Opening his eyes he saw he was among the clouds, and around 
him was a fleecy atmosphere. Jumping up in great alarm, he felt giddy as if he had 
been at sea, and underneath his feet he found a soft, yielding substance unlike the 
earth. Above him were the stars, and this made him think he was dreaming; but 
looking up he saw that they were set in the sky like seeds in the cup of a lily, varying 
from the size of the biggest bowl to that of a small basin. On raising his hand he 
discovered that the large stars were all tightly fixed; but he managed to pick a small 
one, which he concealed in his sleeve; and then, parting the clouds beneath him, he 
looked through and saw the sea glittering like silver below. Large cities appeared no 
bigger than beansjust at this moment, however, he bethought himself that if his foot 
were to slip, what a tremendous fall he would have. 

He now beheld two dragons writhing their way along, and drawing a cart with a 
huge vat in it, each movement of their tails sounding like the crack of a bullock-
drivers whip. The vat was full of water, and numbers of men were employed in ladling 
it out and sprinkling it on the clouds. These men were astonished at seeing Yo; 
however, a big fellow among them called out, All right, hes my friend, and then they 
gave him a ladle to help them throw the water out. Now it happened to be a very dry 
season, and when Yo got hold of the ladle he took good care to throw the water so that 
it should all fall on and around his own home. The stranger then told him that he was 
an assistant to the God of Thunder,1 and [p. 256] that he had just returned from a 
three years punishment inflicted on him in consequence of some neglect of his in the 
matter of rain. He added that they must now part and taking the long rope which had 
been used as reins for the cart, bade Yo grip it tightly, that he might be let down to 
earth. Yo was afraid of this, but on being told there was no danger he did so, and in a 
moment whish-h-h-h-haway he went and found himself safe and sound on terra 
firma. He discovered that he had descended outside his native village, and then the 
rope was drawn up into the clouds and he saw it no more. 

The drought had been excessive; for three or four miles round very little rain 
had fallen, though in Yos own village the water-courses were all full. On reaching 
home he took the star out of his sleeve, and put it on the table. It was dull-looking like 
an ordinary stone but at night it became very brilliant and lighted up the whole house. 
This made him value it highly, and he stored it carefully away, bringing it out only 
when he had guests, to light them at their wine. It was always thus dazzling bright, 
until one evening when his wife was sitting with him doing her hair, the star began to 
diminish in brilliancy, and to flit about like a fire-fly. Mrs. Yo sat gaping with 
astonishment, when all of a sudden it flitted into her mouth and ran down her throat. 
She tried to cough it up, but couldnt to the very great amazement of her husband. 
That night Yo dreamt that his old friend Hsia appeared before him and said, I am the 
Shao-wei star. Your friendship is still cherished by me, and now you have brought me 
back from the sky. Truly our destinies are knitted together, and I will repay your 
kindness by becoming your son. Now Yo was thirty years of age, but without sons; 
however, after this dream his wife bore him a male child, and they called his name 
Star. He was extraordinarily clever, and at sixteen years of age took his masters 
degree. 


 

1 This deity is believed to be constantly on the look-out for wicked people, aided 
by the Goddess of Lightning, who flashes a mirror on to whomsoever the God wishes 
to strike. The thief eats thunderbolts, means that he will bring down vengeance from 
Heaven on himself. Tylors Primitive Culture, Vol. I., p. 88. [p. 257] 

LX. THE GAMBLERS TALISMAN 

A TAOIST priest, called Han, lived at the Tien-chi temple, in our district city. 
His knowledge of the black art was very extensive, and the neighbours all regarded 
him as an Immortal.1 My late father was on intimate terms with him, and whenever 
he went into the city invariably paid him a visit. One day, on such an occasion, he was 
proceeding thither in company with my late uncle, when suddenly they met Han on 
the road. Handing them the key of the door, he begged them to go on and wait awhile 
for him, promising to be there shortly himself. Following out these instructions, they 
repaired to the temple, but on unlocking the door there was Han sitting inside--a feat 
which he subsequently performed several times. 

Now a relative of mine, who was terribly given to gambling, also knew this priest, 
having been introduced to him by my father. And once this relative, meeting with a 
Buddhist priest from the Tien-fo temple, addicted like himself to the vice of gambling, 
played with him until he had lost everything, even going so far as to pledge the whole 
of his property, which he lost in a single night. Happening to call in upon Han as he 
was going back, the latter noticed his exceedingly dejected appearance, and the 
rambling answers he gave, and asked him what was the matter: On hearing the story 
of his losses, Han only laughed, and said, Thats what always overtakes the gambler, 
sooner or later; if, however, you will break yourself of the habit, I will get your money 
back for you. Ah, cried the other, if I can only win back my money, you may break 
the dice with an iron pestle when you catch me gambling again. So Han gave him a 
talismanic formula, written out on a piece of paper, to put in his girdle, bidding him 
only win back what he had lost, and not attempt to get a fraction more. He also 
handed him 1000 cash, on condition that this sum should be repaid from his 
winnings, and off went my relative delighted. 

The Buddhist, however, turned up his nose at the smallness of his means, and 
said it wasnt worth his while to stake so little; but at last he was persuaded into 
having [p. 258] one throw for the whole lot. They then began, the priest leading oft 
with a fair throw, to which his opponent replied by a better; whereupon the priest 
doubled his stake, and my relative won again, going on and on until the latters good 
luck had brought him back all that he had previously lost. He thought, however, that 
he couldnt do better than just win a few more strings of cash, and accordingly went 
on; but gradually his luck turned, and on looking into his girdle he found that the 
talisman was gone. In a great fright he jumped up, and went off with his winnings to 
the temple, where he reckoned up that after deducting Hans loan, and adding what he 
had lost towards the end, he had exactly the amount originally his. With shame in his 
face he turned to thank Han, mentioning at the same time the loss of the talisman; at 
which Han only laughed, and said, That has got back before you. I told you not to be 
over-greedy, and as you didnt heed me, I took the talisman away.2 

 

1 See No. V., note 1. 


2 Gambling is the great Chinese vice, far exceeding in its ill effects all that 
opium has ever done to demoralise the country. Public gaming-houses are strictly 
forbidden by law, but their existence is winked at by a too venal executive. Fantan is 
the favourite game. It consists in staking on the remainder of an unknown number of 
cash, after the heap has been divided by four, namely, whether it will be three, two, 
one or nothing; with other variations of a more complicated nature. 

LXI. THE HUSBAND PUNISHED 

CHING HSING, of Wn-tng, was a young fellow of some literary reputation, 
who lived next door to a Mr. Chn, their studios being separated only by a low wall. 
One evening Chn was crossing a piece of waste ground when he heard a young girl 
crying among some pine-trees hard by. He approached, and saw a girdle hanging from 
one of the branches, as if its owner was just on the point of hanging herself. Chn 
asked her what was the matter, and then she brushed away her tears, and said, My 
mother has gone away and left me in charge of my brother-in-law; but hes a scamp, 
and wont continue to take care of me; and now there is nothing left for me but to die. 
Hereupon the girl began crying again, and Chn untied the girdle and bade her go and 
find herself a husband [p. 259] to which she said there was very little chance of that; 
and then Chn offered to take her to his own homean offer which she very gladly 
accepted. 

Soon after they arrived, his neighbour Ching thought he heard a noise, and 
jumped over the wall to have a peep, when lo and behold! at the door of Chns house 
stood this young lady, who immediately ran away into the garden on seeing Ching. The 
two young men pursued her, but without success, and were obliged to return each to 
his own room, Ching being greatly astonished to find the same girl now standing at his 
door. On addressing the young lady, she told him that his neighbours destiny was too 
poor a one for her,1 and that she came from Shantung, and that her name was Chii 
A-hsia. She finally agreed to take up her residence with Ching; but after a few days, 
finding that a great number of his friends were constantly calling, she declared it was 
too noisy a place for her, and that she would only visit him in the evening. This she 
continued to do for a few days, telling him in reply to his inquiries that her home was 
not very far off. 

One evening, however, she remarked that their present liaison was not very 
creditable to either; that her father was a mandarin on the western frontier, and that 
she was about to set out with her mother to join him; begging him meanwhile to make 
a formal request for the celebration of their nuptials, in order to prevent them from 
being thus separated. She further said that they started in ten days or so, and then 
Ching began to reflect that if he married her she would have to take her place in the 
family, and that would make his first wife jealous; so he determined to get rid of the 
latter, and when she came in he began to abuse her right and left. His wife bore it as 
long as she could, but at length cried out it were better she should die; upon which 
Ching advised her not to bring trouble on them all like that, but to go back to her own 
home. He then drove her away, his wife asking all the time what she had done to be 
sent away like this after ten years of blameless life with him.2 Ching, however, paid no 
heed to her entreaties, and when he had got rid of her he set to work at once to get the 
house whitewashed and made generally clean, himself being on the tip-toe of [p. 260] 
expectation for the arrival of Miss A-hsia. 


But he waited and waited, and no A-hsia came; she seemed gone like a stone 
dropped into the sea. Meanwhile emissaries came from his late wife's family begging 
him to take her back; and when he flatly refused, she married a gentleman of position 
named Hsia, whose property adjoined Ching's, and who had long been at feud with 
him in consequence, as is usual in such cases. This made Ching furious, but he still 
hoped that A-hsia would come, and tried to console himself in this way. Yet more than 
a year passed away, and still no signs of her, until one day, at the festival of the Sea 
Spirits, he saw among the crowds of girls passing in and out one who very much 
resembled A-hsia. Ching moved towards her, following her as she threaded her way 
through the crowd as far as the temple gate, where he lost sight of her altogether, to 
his great mortification and regret. 

Another six months passed away, when one day he met a young lady dressed in 
red, accompanied by an old man-servant, and riding on a black mule. It was A-hsia. 
So he asked the old man the name of his young mistress, and learnt from him that 
she was the second wife of a gentleman named Chng, having been married to him 
about a fortnight previously. Ching now thought she could not be A-hsia, but just 
then the young lady, hearing them talking, turned her head, and Ching saw that he 
was right. And now, finding that she had actually married another man, he was 
overwhelmed with rage, and cried out in a loud voice, "A-hsia! A-hsia! why did you 
break faith?" The servant here objected to his mistress being thus addressed by a 
stranger, and was squaring up to Ching, when A-hsia bade him desist; and, raising 
her veil, replied, "And you, faithless one, how do you dare meet my gaze?" "You are the 
faithless one, said Ching, not I." "To be faithless to your wife is worse than being 
faithless to me," rejoined A-hsia; "if you behaved like that to her, how should I have 
been treated at your hands? Because of the fair fame of your ancestors, and the 
honours gained by them, I was willing to ally myself with you; but now that you have 
discarded your wife, your thread of official advancement has been cut short in the 
realms below, and Mr. Chn is to take the place that should have been yours at the 
head [p. 261] of the examination list. As for myself, I am now part of the Chng family; 
think no more of me." Ching hung his head and could make no reply; and A-hsia 
whipped up her mule and disappeared from his sight, leaving him to return home 
disconsolate. 

At the forthcoming examination, everything turned out as she had predicted; Mr. 
Chn was at the top of the list, and he himself was thrown out. It was clear that his 
luck was gone. At forty he had no wife, and was so poor that he was glad to pick up a 
meal where he could. One day he called on Mr. Chng, who treated him well and kept 
him there for the night; and while there Chng's second wife saw him, and asked her 
husband if his guest's name wasn't Ching. "It is," said he; "how could you guess that?" 
"Well," replied she, "before I married you, I took refuge in his house, and he was then 
very kind to me. Although he has now sunk low, yet his ancestors' influence on the 
family fortunes is not yet exhausted;3 besides, he is an old acquaintance of yours, and 
you should try and do something for him." Chng consented, and having first given 
him a new suit of clothes, kept him in the house several days. At night a slave-girl 
came to him with twenty ounces of silver for him, and Mrs. Chng, who was outside 
the window, said, "This is a trifling return for your past kindness to me. Go and get 
yourself a good wife. The family luck is not yet exhausted, but will descend to your 
sons and grandchildren. Do not behave like this again, and so shorten your term of 
life." Ching thanked her and went home, using ten ounces of silver to procure a 
concubine from a neighbouring family, who was very ugly and ill-tempered. However, 


she bore him a son, and he by-and-by graduated as doctor. Mr. Chng became Vice-
President of the Board of Civil Office,4 and at his death A-hsia attended the funeral; 
but when they opened her chair on its return home, she was gone, and then people 
knew for the first time that she was not mortal flesh and blood. Alas! for the perversity 
of mankind, rejecting the old and craving for the new,5 until at length the nest is 
overthrown and the birds fly away. Thus does heaven punish such people. 

 

1 See No. XLVI., note 4. 

2 See No, LIII., note 1. 

3 The virtuous conduct of any individual will result not only in happiness and 
prosperity to himself, but a certain quantity of these will descend to his posterity, 
unless, as in the present case, there is one among them whose personal wickedness 
neutralises any benefit that would otherwise accrue therefrom. Here we have an 
instance where the crimes of a descendant still left a balance of good fortune surviving 
from the accumulated virtue of generations. 

4 One of the six departments of State administration. 

5 This seems a curious charge to bring against a people who for a stolid and 
bigoted conservatism have rarely, if ever, been equalled. Mencius, however, uttered 
one golden sentence which might be brought to bear upon the occasionally foolish 
opposition of the Chinese to measures of proved advantage to the commonwealth. 
Live, said the Sage, in harmony with the age in which you are born. 

LXII. THE MARRIAGE LOTTERY 

A CERTAIN labourer, named Ma Tien-jung, lost his wife when he was only 
about twenty years of age, and was too poor to take another. One day when out hoeing 
in the fields, he beheld a nice-looking young lady leave the path and come tripping 
across the furrows towards him. Her face was well painted,1 and she had altogether 
such a refined look that Ma concluded she must have lost her way, and began to make 
some playful remarks in consequence. You go along home, cried the young lady, 
and Ill be with you by-and-by. Ma doubted this rather extraordinary promise, but 
she vowed and declared she would not break her word; and then Ma went off, telling 
her that his front door faced the north, &c. &c. 

At midnight the young lady arrived, and then Ma saw that her hands and face 
were covered with fine hair, which made him suspect at once she was a fox. She did 
not deny the accusation; and accordingly Ma said to her, If you really are one of those 
wonderful creatures you will be able to get me anything I want; and I should be much 
obliged if you would begin by giving me some money to relieve my poverty. The young 
lady said she would and next evening, when she came again, Ma asked her where the 
money was. Dear me! replied she, I quite forgot it. When she was going away, Ma 
reminded her of what he wanted, but on the following evening she made precisely the 
same excuse, promising to bring it another day. A few nights afterwards Ma asked her 
[p. 263] once more for the money, and then she drew from her sleeve two pieces of 
silver, each weighing about five or six ounces. They were both of fine quality, with 
turned-up edges,2 and Ma was very pleased and stored them away in a cupboard. 

Some months after this, he happened to require some money for use, and took 


out these pieces; but the person to whom he showed them said they were only pewter, 
and easily bit off a portion of one of them with his teeth. Ma was much alarmed, and 
put the pieces away directly; taking the opportunity when evening came of abusing the 
young lady roundly. Its all your bad luck, retorted she; real gold would be too much 
for your inferior destiny.3 There was an end of that; but Ma went on to say, I always 
heard that fox-girls were of surpassing beauty; how is it you are not? Oh, replied the 
young lady, we always adapt ourselves to our company. Now you havent the luck of 
an ounce of silver to call your own; and what would you do, for instance, with a 
beautiful princess?[4] My beauty may not be good enough for the aristocracy; but 
among your big-footed, bent-backed rustics,5 why, it may safely be called 
surpassing. 

A few months passed away, and then one day the young lady came and gave Ma 
three ounces of silver, saying, You have often asked me for money, but in 
consequence of your weak luck I have always refrained from giving you any. Now, 
however, your marriage is at hand, and I here give you the cost of a wife, which you 
may also regard as a parting gift from me. Ma replied that he wasnt engaged, to 
which the young lady answered that in a few days a go-between would visit him to 
arrange the affair. And what will she be like? asked Ma. Why, as your aspirations 
are for surpassing beauty, replied the young lady, of course she will be possessed of 
surpassing beauty. I hardly expect that, said Ma; at any rate, three ounces of silver 
will not be enough to get a wife. Marriages, [p. 264] explained the young lady, are 
made in the moon;[6] mortals have nothing to do with them. And why must you be 
going away like this? inquired Ma. Because, answered she, for us to meet only by 
night is not the proper thing. I had better get you another wife and have done with 
you. 

Then when morning came, she departed, giving Ma a pinch of yellow powder, 
saying, In case you are ill after we are separated, this will cure you. Next day, sure 
enough, a go-between did come, and Ma at once asked what the proposed bride was 
like; to which the former replied that she was very passable-looking. Four or five 
ounces of silver was fixed as the marriage present, Ma making no difficulty on that 
score, but declaring he must have a peep at the young lady.7 The go-between said she 
was a respectable girl, and would never allow herself to be seen; however, it was 
arranged that they should go to the house together, and await a good opportunity. So 
off they went, Ma remaining outside while the go-between went in, returning in a little 
while to tell him it was all right. A relative of mine lives in the same court, and just 
now I saw the young lady sitting in the hall. We have only got to pretend we are going 
to see my relative, and you will be able to get a glimpse of her. Ma consented, and 
they accordingly passed through the hall, where he saw the young lady sitting down 
with her head bent forward while some one was scratching her back. She seemed to be 
all that the go-between had said; but when they came to discuss the money, it 
appeared the young lady only wanted one or two ounces of silver, just to buy herself [p. 
265] a few clothes, &c., which Ma thought was a very small amount, and gave the go-
between a present for her trouble, which just finished up the three ounces his fox-
friend had provided. 

An auspicious day was chosen, and the young lady came over to his house; 
when lo! she was hump-backed and pigeon-breasted, with a short neck like a tortoise, 
and regular beetle-crushers, full ten inches long. The meaning of his fox-friends 
remarks then flashed upon him. 


 

1 Only slave-girls and women of the poorer classes, and old women, omit this 
very important part of a Chinese ladys toilet. 

2 Alluding probably to the shape of the shoe or ingot of silver. 

3 See No. XLVI., note 4. 

4 Literally, One who would make wild geese alight and fish dive down for 
shame or, as the next line from the same poem has it, a beauty which would obscure 
the moon and put flowers to the blush. 

5 Slave-girls do not have their feet compressed. 

6 Wherein resides an old gentleman who ties together with a red cord the feet of 
those destined to become man and wife. From this bond there is no escape, no matter 
what distance may separate the affianced pair. The first go-between, Ku Ts, was 
originally seen on ice, arranging matches with some one below: 

Marriage is not a trifling thing 
The Book and the Vermilion String! 
On ice by moonlight may be seen 
The wedded couples go-between. 
A Thousand Character Essays for Girls. 

Hence the common phrase to do the ice (business), i.e., to arrange a marriage. 

7 This proceeding is highly improper, but is winked at in a large majority of 
Chinese betrothals. 

LXIII. THE LO-CHA COUNTRY AND THE SEA-MARKET[1] 

ONCE upon a time there was a young man, named Ma Chn, who was also 
known as Lung-mei. He was the son of a trader, and a youth of surpassing beauty. His 
manners were courteous, and he loved nothing better than singing and playing. He 
used to associate with actors, and with an embroidered handkerchief round his head 
the effect was that of a beautiful woman. Hence he acquired the sobriquet of the 
Beauty. At fourteen years of age he graduated and began to make a name for himself; 
but his father, who was growing old and wished to retire from business, said to him, 
My boy, book-learning will never fill your belly or put a coat on your back; you had 
much better stick to the old thing. Accordingly, Ma from that time occupied himself 
with scales and weights, with principal and interest, and such matters. 

He made a voyage across the sea, and was carried away by a typhoon. After 
being tossed about for many days and nights he arrived at a country where the people 
were hideously ugly. When these people saw Ma they thought he was a devil, and all 
ran screeching away. Ma was somewhat alarmed at this, but finding that it was they 
who were frightened at him, he quickly turned their fear to his own advantage. lf he 
came across people eating and drinking he would rush upon them, and when they fled 
away for fear, he would regale himself upon what they had left. 

By-and-by he went to a village among the hills, and there the people had at any 
rate some facial [p. 266] resemblance to ordinary men. But they were all in rags and 
tatters like beggars. So Ma sat down to rest under a tree, and the villagers, not daring 
to come near him, contented themselves with looking at him from a distance. They 


soon found, however, that he did not want to eat them, and by degrees approached a 
little closer to him. Ma, smiling, began to talk; and although their language was 
different, yet he was able to make himself tolerably intelligible, and told them whence 
he had come. The villagers were much pleased, and spread the news that the stranger 
was not a man-eater. Nevertheless, the very ugliest of all would only take a look and 
be off again; they would not come near him. Those who did go up to him were not very 
much unlike his own countrymen, the Chinese. They brought him plenty of food and 
wine. Ma asked them what they were afraid of. They replied, We had heard from our 
forefathers that 26,000 li to the west there is a country called China. We had heard 
that the people of that land were the most extraordinary in appearance you can 
possibly imagine. Hitherto it has been hearsay; we can now believe it. He then asked 
them how it was they were so poor. They answered, You see, in our country 
everything depends, not on literary talent, but on beauty. The most beautiful are made 
ministers of state; the next handsomest are made judges and magistrates and the 
third class in looks are employed in the palace of the king. Thus these are enabled out 
of their pay to provide for their wives and families. But we, from our very birth, are 
regarded by our parents as inauspicious, and are left to perish, some of us being 
occasionally preserved by more humane parents to prevent the extinction of the 
family. 

Ma asked the name of their country, and they told him it was Lo-cha. Also that 
the capital city was some 30 li to the north. He begged them to take him there, and 
next day at cock-crow he started thitherwards in their company, arriving just about 
dawn. The walls of the city were made of black stone, as black as ink, and the city 
gate-houses were about 100 feet high. Red stones were used for tiles, and picking up a 
broken piece Ma found that it marked his finger-nail like vermilion. They arrived just 
when the Court was rising, and saw all the equipages of the officials. The [p. 267] 
village people pointed out one who they said was Prime Minister. His ears drooped 
forward in flaps; he had three nostrils, and his eye-lashes were just like bamboo 
screens hanging in front of his eyes. Then several came out on horseback, and they 
said these were the privy councillors. So they went on, telling him the rank of all the 
ugly uncouth fellows he saw. The lower they got down in the official scale the less 
hideous the officials were. By-and-by Ma went back, the people in the streets 
marvelling very much to see him, and tumbling helter-skelter one over another as if 
they had met a goblin. The villagers shouted out to reassure them, and then they 
stood at a distance to look at him. When he got back, there was not a man, woman, or 
child in the whole nation but knew that there was a strange man at the village; and 
the gentry and officials became very desirous of seeing him. However, if he went to any 
of their houses the porter always slammed the door in his face, and the master, 
mistress, and family, in general, would only peep at, and speak to him through the 
cracks. 

Not a single one dared receive him face to face; but, finally, the village people, at 
a loss what to do, bethought themselves of a man who had been sent by a former king 
on official business among strange nations. He, said they, having seen many kinds 
of men, will not be afraid of you. So they went to his house, where they were received 
in a very friendly way. He seemed to be about eighty or ninety years of age; his 
eyeballs protruded, and his beard curled up like a hedgehog. He said, In my youth I 
was sent by the king among many nations, but I never went to China. I am now one 
hundred and twenty years of age, and that I should be permitted to see a native of 
your country is a fact which it will be my duty to report to the Throne. For ten years 


and more I have not been to Court, but have remained here in seclusion; yet I will now 
make an effort on your behalf. 

Then followed a banquet, and when the wine had already circulated pretty 
freely, some dozen singing girls came in and sang and danced before them. The girls 
all wore white embroidered turbans, and long scarlet robes which trailed on the 
ground. The words they uttered were unintelligible, and the tunes they played 
perfectly hideous. The host, however, [p. 268] seemed to enjoy it very much, and said 
to Ma, Have you music in China? He replied that they had, and the old man asked 
for a specimen. Ma hummed him a tune, beating time on the table, with which he was 
very much pleased, declaring that his guest had the voice of a phoenix and the notes 
of a dragon, such as he had never heard before. 

The next day he presented a memorial to the Throne, and the king at once 
commanded Ma to appear before him. Several of the ministers, however, represented 
that his appearance was so hideous it might frighten His Majesty, and the king 
accordingly desisted from his intention. The old man returned and told Ma, being 
quite upset about it. They remained together some time until they had drunk 
themselves tipsy. Then Ma, seizing a sword, began to attitudinise, smearing his face 
all over with coal-dust. He acted the part of Chang Fei[2] at which his host was so 
delighted that he begged him to appear before the Prime Minister in the character of 
Chang Fei. Ma replied, I dont mind a little amateur acting, but how can I play the 
hypocrite[3] for my own personal advantage? On being pressed he consented, and the 
old man prepared a great feast, and asked some of the high officials to be present, 
telling Ma to paint himself as before. When the guests had arrived, Ma was brought 
out to see them; whereupon they all exclaimed, Ai-yah! how is it he was so ugly before 
and is now so beautiful? By-and-by, when they were all taking wine together, Ma 
began to sing them a most bewitching song, and they got so excited over it that next 
day they recommended him to the king. 

The king sent a special summons for him to appear, and asked him many 
questions about the government of China, to all of which Ma replied in detail, eliciting 
sighs of admiration from His Majesty. He was honoured with a banquet in the royal 
guest-pavilion, and when the king had made himself tipsy he said to him, I hear you 
are a very skilful musician. Will you be good enough to let me hear you? Ma then got 
up and began to attitudinise, singing a plaintive air like the girls with the turbans. The 
king was charmed, and at once made him a privy councillor, giving him a [p. 269] 
private banquet, and bestowing other marks of royal favour. 

As time went on his fellow officials found out the secret of his painted face,[4] 
and whenever he was among them they were always whispering together, besides 
which they avoided being near him as much as possible. Thus Ma was left to himself, 
and found his position anything but pleasant in consequence. So he memorialised the 
Throne, asking to be allowed to retire from office, but his request was refused. He then 
said his health was bad, and got three months sick leave, during which he packed up 
his valuables and went back to the village. 

The villagers on his arrival went down on their knees to him, and he distributed 
gold and jewels amongst his old friends. They were all very glad to see him, and said, 
Your kindness shall be repaid when we go to the sea-market; we will bring you some 
pearls and things. Ma asked them where that was. They said it was at the bottom of 
the sea, where the mermaids[5] kept their treasures, and that as many as twelve 


nations were accustomed to go thither to trade. Also that it was frequented by spirits, 
and that to get there it was necessary to pass through red vapours and great waves. 
Dear Sir, they said, do not yourself risk this great danger, but let us take your 
money and purchase these rare pearls for you. The season is now at hand. Ma asked 
them how they knew this. They said, Whenever we see red birds flying backwards and 
forwards over the sea, we know that within seven days the market will open. He 
asked when they were going to start, that he might accompany them; but they begged 
him not to think of doing so. He replied, I am a sailor: how can I be afraid of wind and 
waves? Very soon after this people came with merchandise to forward, and so Ma 
packed up and went on board the vessel that was going. 

This vessel held some tens of people, was flat-bottomed, with a railing all round, 
and, rowed by ten men, it cut through the water like an arrow. After a voyage of three 
days they saw afar off faint outlines of towers and minarets, and crowds of trading 
vessels. They soon arrived at the city, the walls of which were made of bricks as long 
[p. 270] as a mans body, the tops of its buildings being lost in the Milky Way.[6] 
Having made fast their boat, they went in, and saw laid out in the market rare pearls 
and wondrous precious stones of dazzling beauty, such as are quite unknown 
amongst men. Then they saw a young man come forth riding upon a beautiful steed. 
The people of the market stood back to let him pass, saying he was the third son of the 
king; but when the prince saw Ma, he exclaimed, This is no foreigner, and 
immediately an attendant drew near and asked his name and country. Ma made a bow, 
and standing at one side told his name and family. The prince smiled, and said, For 
you to have honoured our country thus is no small piece of good luck. He then gave 
him a horse and begged him to follow. 

They went out of the city gate and down to the sea-shore, whereupon their 
horses plunged into the water. Ma was terribly frightened and screamed out; but the 
sea opened dry before them and formed a wall of water on either side. In a little time 
they reached the kings palace, the beams of which were made of tortoise-shell and the 
tiles of fishes scales. The four walls were of crystal, and dazzled the eye like mirrors. 
They got down off their horses and went in, and Ma was introduced to the king. The 
young prince said, Sire, I have been to the market, and have got a gentleman from 
China. Whereupon Ma made obeisance before the king, who addressed him as 
follows:Sir, from a talented scholar like yourself I venture to ask for a few stanzas 
upon our sea-market. Pray do not refuse. Ma thereupon made a ko-tou, and 
undertook the kings command. Using an ink-slab of crystal, a brush of dragons 
beard, paper as white as snow, and ink scented like the larkspur,[7] Ma immediately 
threw off some thousand odd verses, which he laid at the feet of the king. When His 
Majesty saw them, he said, Sir, your genius does honour to these marine nations of 
ours. 

Then, summoning the members of the royal family, the king gave a great feast 
in the Coloured Cloud pavilion; and, when the wine had circulated freely, seizing [p. 
271] a great goblet in his hand, the king rose and said before all the guests, It is a 
thousand pities, Sir, that you are not married. What say you to entering the bonds of 
wedlock? Ma rose blushing and stammered out his thanks; upon which the king, 
looking round, spoke a few words to the attendants, and in a few moments in came a 
bevy of Court ladies supporting the kings daughter, whose ornaments went tinkle, 
tinkle, as she walked along. Immediately the nuptial drums and trumpets began to 
sound forth, and bride and bridegroom worshipped Heaven and Earth together.[8] 


Stealing a glance, Ma saw that the princess was endowed with a fairy-like loveliness. 
When the ceremony was over she retired, and by-and-by the wine party broke up. 
Then came several beautifully dressed waiting-maids, who with painted candles 
escorted Ma within. The bridal couch was made of coral adorned with eight kinds of 
precious stones, and the curtains were thickly hung with pearls as big as acorns. 

Next day at dawn a crowd of young slave-girls trooped into the room to offer 
their services; whereupon Ma got up and went off to Court to pay his respects to the 
king. He was then duly received as royal son-in-law and made an officer of state. The 
fame of his poetical talents spread far and wide, and the kings of the various seas sent 
officers to congratulate him, vieing with each other in their invitations to him. Ma 
dressed himself in gorgeous clothes, and went forth riding on a superb steed, with a 
mounted body-guard all splendidly armed. There were musicians on horseback and 
musicians in chariots, and in three days he had visited every one of the marine 
kingdoms, making his name known in all directions. 

In the palace there was a jade tree, about as big round as a man could clasp. 
Its roots were as clear as glass, and up the middle ran, as it were, a stick of pale 
yellow. The branches were the size of ones arm; the leaves like white jade, as thick as 
a copper cash. The foliage was dense, and beneath its shade the ladies of the palace 
were wont to sit and sing. The flowers which covered the tree resembled grapes, and if 
a single petal fell to the earth it made a ringing sound. Taking one up, it would be 
found to be exactly like carved cornelian, [p. 272] very bright and pretty to look at. 
From time to time a wonderful bird came and sang there. Its feathers were of a golden 
hue, and its tail as long as its body. Its notes were like the tinkling of jade, very 
plaintive and touching to listen to. When Ma heard this bird sing, it called up in him 
recollections of his old home, and accordingly he said to the princess, I have now 
been away from my own country for three years, separated from my father and mother. 
Thinking of them my tears flow and the perspiration runs down my back. Can you 
return with me? His wife replied, The way of immortals is not that of men. I am 
unable to do what you ask, but I cannot allow the feelings of husband and wife to 
break the tie of parent and child. Let us devise some plan. When Ma heard this he 
wept bitterly, and the princess sighed and said, We cannot both stay or both go. 

The next day the king said to him, I hear that you are pining after your old 
home. Will tomorrow suit you for taking leave? Ma thanked the king for his great 
kindness, which he declared he could never forget, and promised to return very 
shortly. That evening the princess and Ma talked over their wine of their approaching 
separation. Ma said they would soon meet again; but his wife averred that their 
married life was at an end. Then he wept afresh, but the princess said, Like a filial 
son you are going home to your parents. In the meetings and separations of this life, a 
hundred years seem but a single day; why, then, should we give way to tears like 
children? I will be true to you; do you be faithful to me; and then, though separated, 
we shall be united in spirit, a happy pair. Is it necessary to live side by side in order to 
grow old together? If you break our contract your next marriage will not be a 
propitious one; but if loneliness[9] overtakes you then choose a concubine. There is 
one point more of which I would speak, with reference to our married life. I am about 
to become a mother, and I pray you give me a name for your child. To this Ma replied, 
If a girl I would have her called Lung-kung; if a boy, then name him Fu-hai.10 The 
princess asked for some token of remembrance, and Ma gave her a pair [p. 273] of jade 
lilies that he had got during his stay in the marine kingdom. She added, On the 8th of 


the 4th moon, three years hence, when you once more steer your course for this 
country, I will give you up your child. She next packed a leather bag full of jewels and 
handed it to Ma, saying, Take care of this; it will be a provision for many generations. 

When the day began to break a splendid farewell feast was given him by the 
king, and Ma bade them all adieu. The princess, in a car drawn by snow-white sheep, 
escorted him to the boundary of the marine kingdom; where he dismounted and 
stepped ashore. Farewell! cried the princess, as her returning car bore her rapidly 
away, and the sea, closing over her, snatched her from her husbands sight. Ma 
returned to his home across the ocean. Some had thought him long since dead and 
gone; all marvelled at his story. Happily his father and mother were yet alive, though 
his former wife had married another man; and so he understood why the princess had 
pledged him to constancy, for she already knew that this had taken place. His father 
wished him to take another wife, but he would not. He only took a concubine. 

Then, after the three years had passed away, he started across the sea on his 
return journey, when lo! he beheld, riding on the wave-crests and splashing about the 
water in playing, two young children. On going near, one of them seized hold of him 
and sprang into his arms; upon which the elder cried until he, too, was taken up. 
They were a boy and girl, both very lovely, and wearing embroidered caps adorned 
with jade lilies. On the back of one of them was a worked case, in which Ma found the 
following letter: 

I presume my father and mother-in-law are well. Three years have passed away 
and destiny still keeps us apart. Across the great ocean, the letter-bird would find no 
path.[11] I have been with you in my dreams until I am quite worn out. Does the blue 
sky look down upon any grief like mine? Yet Chang-ngo[12] lives solitary in the moon, 
and Chih N [13] laments that she cannot cross the [p. 274] Silver River. Who am I 
that I should expect happiness to be mine? Truly this thought turns my tears into joy. 
Two months after your departure I had twins, who can already prattle away in the 
language of childhood, at one moment snatching a date, at another a pear. Had they 
no mother they would still live. These I now send to you, with the jade lilies you gave 
me in their hats, in token of the sender. When you take them upon your knee, think 
that I am standing by your side. I know that you have kept your promise to me, and I 
am happy. I shall take no second husband, even unto death. All thoughts of dress and 
finery are gone from me; my looking-glass sees no new fashions; my face has long 
been unpowdered, my eyebrows unblacked. You are my Ulysses, I am your 
Penelope;14 though not actually leading a married life, how can it be said that we are 
not husband and wife? Your father and mother will take their grandchildren upon 
their knees, though they have never set eyes upon the bride. Alas! there is something 
wrong in this. Next year your mother will enter upon the long night. I shall be there by 
the side of the grave, as is becoming in her daughter-in-law. From this time forth our 
daughter will be well; later on she will be able to grasp her mothers hand. Our boy, 
when he grows up, may possibly be able to come to and fro. Adieu, dear husband, 
adieu, though I am leaving much unsaid. Ma read the letter over and over again, his 
tears flowing all the time. 

His two children clung round his neck, and begged him to take them home. Ah, 
my children, said he, where is your home? Then they all wept bitterly, and Ma, 
looking at the great ocean stretching away to meet the sky, lovely and pathless, 
embraced his children, and proceeded sorrowfully to return. Knowing, too, that his 
mother could not last long, he prepared everything necessary for the ceremony of 


interment, and planted a hundred young pine-trees at her grave.15 The following year 
the old lady did die, and her coffin was borne to its last resting-place, when lo! there 
was the princess standing by the side of the grave. The lookers-on were much [p. 275] 
alarmed, but in a moment there was a flash of lightning followed by a clap of thunder 
and a squall of rain, and she was gone. It was then noticed that many of the young 
pine-trees which had died were one and all brought to life. 

Subsequently, Fu-hai went in search of the mother for whom he pined so much, 
and after some days absence returned. Lung-kung, being a girl, could not accompany 
him, but she mourned much in secret. One dark day her mother entered and bade her 
dry her eyes, saying, My child, you must get married. Why these tears? She then 
gave her a tree of coral eight feet in height, some Baroos camphor,16 one hundred 
valuable pearls, and two boxes inlaid with gold and precious stones, as her dowry. Ma 
having found out she was there, rushed in, and, seizing her hand, began to weep for 
joy, when suddenly a violent peal of thunder rent the building and the princess had 
vanished.17 

 

1 The term sea-market is generally understood in the sense of mirage, or some 
similar phenomenon. 

2 A famous General who played a leading part in the wars of the Three 
Kingdoms. See No. XCIII., note 8. 

3 A hit at the hypocrisy of the age 

4 Showing that hypocrisy is bad policy in the long run. 

5 The tears of Chinese mermaids are said to be pearls. 

6 See No. XIX., note 1. 

7 Good ink of the kind miscalled Indian is usually very highly scented; and 
from a habit the Chinese have of sucking their writing-brushes to a fine point, the 
phrase to eat ink has become a synonym of to study. 

8 This all-important point in a Chinese marriage ceremony is the equivalent of 
our own signing in the vestry. 

9 Literally, if you have no one to cook your food. 

10 Dragon Palace and Happy Sea, respectively. 

11 Alluding to an old legend of a letter conveyed by a bird. 

12 See No. V., note 2. 

13 The Spinning Damsel, or name of a star in Lyra, connected with which 
there is a celebrated legend of its annual transit across the Milky Way. 

14 These are of course only the equivalents of the Chinese names in the text. 

15 To keep off the much-dreaded wind, which disturbs the rest of the departed. 

16 For which a very high price is obtained in China. 

17 Episodes which appear in this story and in The Princess of the Tung-ting 
Lake have been woven together to form the so-called Japanese tale of Urashima, the 
fisher-lad who was beloved of the Sea Kings daughter. See the Fortnightly Review, 


July 1906, p. 99, and Astons Japanese Literature, p. 39. 

LXIV. THE FIGHTING CRICKET 

DURING the reign of Hsan T,l cricket fighting was very much in vogue at 
court, levies of crickets being exacted from the people as a tax. On one occasion the 
magistrate of Hua-yin, wishing to make friends with the Governor, presented him with 
a cricket which, on being set to fight, displayed very remarkable powers; so much so 
that the Governor commanded the magistrate to supply him regularly with these 
insects. The latter, in his turn, ordered the beadles of his district to provide him with 
crickets; and then it became a practice for people who had nothing else to do to catch 
and rear them for this purpose. 

Thus the price of crickets rose very high; and when the beadles[2] runners 
came to exact even a single one, it was enough to ruin several families. [p. 276] Now in 
the village of which we are speaking there lived a man named Chng, a student who 
had often failed for his bachelors degree; and, being a stupid sort of fellow, his name 
was sent in for the post of beadle. He did all he could to get out of it, but without 
success; and by the end of the year his small patrimony was gone. Just then came a 
call for crickets, and Chng, not daring to make a like call upon his neighbours, was 
at his wits end, and in his distress determined to commit suicide. Whats the use of 
that? cried his wife. Youd do better to go out and try to find some. So off went 
Chng in the early morning, with a bamboo tube and a silk net, not returning till late 
at night; and he searched about in tumble-down walls, in bushes, under stones, and 
in holes, but without catching more than two or three, do what he would. Even those 
he did catch were weak creatures, and of no use at all, which made the magistrate fix 
a limit of time, the result of which was that in a few days Chng got one hundred 
blows with the bamboo. This made him so sore that he was quite unable to go after 
the crickets any more, and, as he lay tossing and turning on the bed, he determined 
once again to put an end to his life. 

About that time a hump-backed fortune-teller of great skill arrived at the village, 
and Chngs wife, putting together a trifle of money, went off to seek his assistance. 
The door was literally blocked upfair young girls and white-headed dames crowding 
in from all quarters. A room was darkened, and a bamboo screen hung at the door, an 
altar being arranged outside at which the fortune-seekers burnt incense in a brazier, 
and prostrated themselves twice, while the soothsayer stood by the side, and, looking 
up into vacancy, prayed for a response. His lips opened and shut, but nobody heard 
what he said, all standing there in awe waiting for the answer. In a few moments a 
piece of paper was thrown from behind the screen, and the soothsayer said that the 
petitioners desire would be accomplished in the way he wished. Chngs wife now 
advanced, and, placing some money on the altar, burnt her incense and prostrated 
herself in a similar manner. In a few moments the screen began to move, and a piece 
of paper was thrown down, on which there were no words, but only a picture. In the 
middle was a building like a temple, and behind this a small hill, at the foot of which 
were a number of curious stones, with the long, spiky feelers of innumerable crickets 
appearing from behind. Hard by was a frog, which seemed to be engaged in putting 
itself into various kinds of attitudes. The good woman had no idea what it all meant; 
but she noticed the crickets, and accordingly went off home to tell her husband. 

Ah, said he, this is to show me where to hunt for crickets; and, on looking 


closely at the picture, he saw that the building very much resembled a temple to the 
east of their village. So he forced himself to get up, and, leaning on a stick, went out to 
seek crickets behind the temple. Rounding an old grave, he came upon a place where 
stones were lying scattered about as in the picture, and then he set himself to watch 
attentively. He might as well have been looking for a needle or a grain of mustard-seed; 
and by degrees he became quite exhausted, without finding anything, when suddenly 
an old frog jumped out. Chng was a little startled, but immediately pursued the frog, 
which retreated into the bushes. He then saw one of the insects he wanted sitting at 
the root of a bramble; but on making a grab at it, the cricket ran into a hole, from 
which he was unable to move it until he poured in some water, when out the little 
creature came. It was a magnificent specimen, strong and handsome, with a fine tail, 
green neck, and golden wings; and, putting it in his basket, he returned home in high 
glee to receive the congratulations of his family. He would not have taken anything for 
this cricket. He put it into a bowl, and fed it with white crabs flesh and with the yellow 
kernel of the sweet chestnut, tending it most lovingly, and waiting for the time when 
the magistrate should call upon him for a cricket. 

Meanwhile, a son of Chngs, aged nine, one day took [p. 278] the opportunity 
of his father being out to open the bowl. Instantaneously the cricket made a spring 
forward and was gone; and all efforts to catch it again were unavailing. At length the 
boy made a grab at it with his hand, but only succeeded in seizing one of its legs, 
which thereupon broke, and the little creature soon afterwards died. Chngs wife 
turned deadly pale when her son, with tears in his eyes, told her what had happened. 
Oh, you young rascal! wont you catch it when your father comes home, said she; at 
which the boy ran away, crying bitterly. Soon after Chng arrived, and when he heard 
his wifes story he felt as if he had been turned to ice, and went in search of his son, 
who, however, was nowhere to be found, until at length they discovered his body lying 
at the bottom of a well. Their anger was thus turned to grief, and death seemed as 
though it would be a pleasant relief to them as they sat facing each other in silence in 
their thatched and smokeless[3] hut. 

At evening they prepared to bury the boy; but, on touching the body, lo! he was 
still breathing. Overjoyed, they placed him upon the bed, and towards the middle of 
the night he came round; but they found that his mind was weak, and he wanted to go 
to sleep. His father, however, caught sight of the empty bowl in which he had kept the 
cricket, and ceased to think any more about his son, never once closing his eyes all 
night; and as day gradually broke, there he lay stiff and stark, until suddenly he heard 
the chirping of a cricket outside the house door. Jumping up in a great hurry to see, 
there was his lost insect; but, on trying to catch it, away it hopped directly. At last he 
got it under his hand, though when he came to close his fingers on it, there was 
nothing in them. So he went on, chasing it up and down, until finally it hopped into a 
corner of the wall; and then, looking carefully about, he espied it once more, no longer 
the same in appearance, but small, and of a dark red colour. Chng stood looking at it, 
without trying to catch such a worthless specimen, when all of a sudden the little 
creature hopped into his sleeve; and, on examining it more nearly, he saw that it really 
was a handsome insect, with well-formed head and neck, and forthwith took it indoors. 
He was now anxious to try its prowess; and it so happened that a young fellow of the 
village, who [p. 279] had a fine cricket which used to win every bout it fought, and was 
so valuable to him that he wanted a high price for it, called on Chng that very day. 
He laughed heartily at Chngs champion, and, producing his own, placed it side by 
side, to the great disadvantage of the former. Chngs countenance fell, and he no 


longer wished to back his cricket; however, the young fellow urged him, and he 
thought that there was no use in rearing a feeble insect, and that he had better 
sacrifice it for a laugh; so they put them together in a bowl. The little cricket lay quite 
still like a piece of wood, at which the young fellow roared again, and louder than ever 
when it did not move even though tickled with a pigs bristle. By dint of tickling it was 
roused at last, and then it fell upon its adversary with such fury, that in a moment the 
young fellows cricket would have been killed outright had not its master interfered 
and stopped the fight. The little cricket then stood up and chirped to Chng as a sign 
of victory; and Chng, overjoyed, was just talking over the battle with the young fellow 
when a cock caught sight of the insect, and ran up to eat it. Chng was in a great 
state of alarm; but the cock luckily missed its aim, and the cricket hopped away, its 
enemy pursuing at full speed. In another moment it would have been snapped up, 
when, lo! to his great astonishment, Chng saw his cricket seated on the cocks head, 
holding firmly on to its comb. 

He then put it into a cage, and by-and-by sent it to the magistrate, who, seeing 
what a small one he had provided, was very angry indeed. Ching told the story of the 
cock, which the magistrate refused to believe, and set it to fight with other crickets, all 
of which it vanquished without exception. He then tried it with a cock, and as all 
turned out as Chng had said, he gave him a present, and sent the cricket in to the 
Governor. The Governor put it into a golden cage, and forwarded it to the palace, 
accompanied by some remarks on its performances; and when there, it was found that 
of all the splendid collection of His Imperial Majesty, not one was worthy to be placed 
alongside of this one. It would dance in time to music, and thus became a great 
favourite, the Emperor in return bestowing magnificent gifts of horses and silks upon 
the Governor. The Governor did not forget whence he had obtained the cricket, and 
the [p. 280] magistrate also well rewarded Chng by excusing him from the duties of 
beadle, and by instructing the Literary Chancellor to pass him for the first degree. 

A few months afterwards Chngs son recovered his intellect, and said that he 
had been a cricket, and had proved himself a very skilful fighter.4 The Governor, too, 
rewarded Chng handsomely, and in a few years he was a rich man, with flocks, and 
herds, and houses, and acres, quite one of the wealthiest of mankind. 

 

1 Of the Ming dynasty; reigned A.D. 1426-1436. 

2 These beadles are chosen by the officials from among the respectable and 
substantial of the people to preside over a small area and be responsible for the 
general good behaviour of its inhabitants. The post is one of honour and occasional 
emolument, since all petitions presented to the authorities, all mortgages, transfers of 
land, &c., should bear the beadles seal or signature in evidence of their bona-fide 
character. On the other hand, the beadle is punished by fine, and sometimes 
bambooed, if robberies are too frequent within his jurisdiction, or if he fails to secure 
the person of any malefactor particularly wanted by his superior officers. And other 
causes may combine to make the post a dangerous one; but no one is allowed to 
refuse acceptance of it point-blank. 

3 A favourite Chinese expression, signifying the absence of food. 

4 That is to say, his spirit had entered, during his period of temporary insanity, 
into the cricket which had allowed itself to be caught by his father, and had animated 


it to fight with such extraordinary vigour in order to make good the loss occasioned by 
his carelessness in letting the other escape. 

LXV. TAKING REVENGE 

HSIANG KAO, otherwise called Chu-tan, was a Tai-y-an man, and deeply 
attached to his half-brother Shng. Shng himself was desperately enamoured of a 
young lady named Po-ss,l who was also very fond of him: but the mother wanted too 
much money for her daughter. Now a rich young fellow named Chuang thought he 
should like to get Po-ss for himself, and proposed to buy her as a concubine. No, 
no, said Po-ss to her mother, I prefer being Shngs wife to becoming Chuangs 
concubine. So her mother consented, and informed Shng, who had only recently 
buried his first wife; at which he was delighted and made preparations to take her over 
to his own house. When Chuang heard this he was infuriated against Shng for thus 
depriving him of Po-ss; and chancing to meet him out one day, set to and abused 
him roundly. Shng answered him back, and then Chuang ordered his attendants to 
fall upon Shng and beat him well, which they did, leaving him lifeless on the ground. 

When Hsiang heard what had taken place he ran out and found his brother 
lying dead upon the ground. Overcome with grief, he proceeded to the magistrates, 
and accused Chuang of [p. 281] murder; but the latter bribed so heavily that nothing 
came of the accusation. This worked Hsiang to frenzy, and he determined to 
assassinate Chuang on the high road; with which intent he daily concealed himself, 
with a sharp knife about him, among the bushes on the hill-side, waiting for Chuang 
to pass. By degrees, this plan of his became known far and wide, and accordingly 
Chuang never went out except with a strong bodyguard, besides which he engaged at 
a high price the services of a very skilful archer, named Chiao Tung, so that Hsiang 
had no means of carrying out his intention. 

However, he continued to lie in wait day after day, and on one occasion it began 
to rain heavily, and in a short time Hsiang was wet through to the skin. Then the wind 
got up, and a hailstorm followed, and by-and-by Hsiang was quite numbed with the 
cold. On the top of the hill there was a small temple wherein lived a Taoist priest, 
whom Hsiang knew from the latter having occasionally begged alms in the village, and 
to whom he had often given a meal. This priest, seeing how wet he was, gave him some 
other clothes, and told him to put them on; but no sooner had he done so than he 
crouched down like a dog, and found that he had been changed into a tiger, and that 
the priest had vanished. It now occurred to him to seize this opportunity of revenging 
himself upon his enemy; and away he went to his old ambush, where lo and behold he 
found his own body lying stiff and stark. 

Fearing lest it should become food for birds of prey, he guarded it carefully, 
until at length one day Chuang passed by. Out rushed the tiger and sprang upon 
Chuang, biting his head off, and swallowing it upon the spot, at which Chiao Tung, 
the archer, turned round and shot the animal through the heart. Just at that moment 
Hsiang awaked as though from a dream, but it was some time before he could crawl 
home, where he arrived to the great delight of his family, who didnt know what had 
become of him. Hsiang said not a word, lying quietly on the bed until some of his 
people came in to congratulate him on the death of his great enemy Chuang. Hsiang 
then cried out, I was that tiger, and proceeded to relate the whole story, which thus 
got about until it reached the ears of Chuangs son, who immediately set to work to 


bring his fathers murderer to justice. The magistrate, however, did not consider this 
wild story as sufficient evidence against him, and thereupon dismissed the case. 

 

1 This is the term used by the Chinese for Persia, often put by metonymy for 
things which come from that country, sc. valuables. Thus, to be poor in Persia is to 
have but few jewels, gold and silver ornaments, and even clothes. 

LXVI. THE TIPSY TURTLE 

AT Lin-tiao there lived a Mr. Fng, whose other name the person who told me 
this story could not remember; he belonged to a good family, though now somewhat 
falling into decay. Now a certain man, who caught turtles, owed him some money 
which he could not pay, but whenever he captured any turtles he used to send one to 
Mr. Fng. One day he took him an enormous creature, with a white spot on its 
forehead; but Fng was so struck with something in its appearance, that he let it go 
again. 

A little while afterwards he was returning home from his son-in-laws, and had 
reached the banks of the river,1 when in the dusk of the evening he saw a drunken 
man come rolling along, attended by two or three servants. No sooner did he perceive 
Fng than he called out, Who are you? to which Fng replied that he was a traveller. 
And havent you got a name? shouted out the drunken man in a rage, that you 
must call yourself a traveller? To this Fng made no reply, but tried to pass by; 
whereupon he found himself seized by the sleeve and unable to move. His adversary 
smelt horribly of wine, and at length Fng asked him, saying, And pray who are you? 
Oh, I am the late magistrate at Nan-tu, answered he; what do you want to know 
for? A nice disgrace to society you are, too, cried Fng; however, I am glad to hear 
you are only late magistrate, for if you had been present magistrate there would be 
bad times in store for travellers. This made the drunken man furious, and he was 
proceeding to use violence, when Fng cried out, My name is So-and-so, and Im not 
the man to stand this sort of thing from anybody. 

No sooner had he uttered these words than the drunken mans rage was turned 
into joy, and, falling on his knees before [p. 283] Fng, he said, My benefactor! pray 
excuse my rudeness. Then getting up, he told his servants to go on ahead and get 
something ready; Fng at first declining to go with him, but yielding on being pressed. 
Taking his hand, the drunken man led him along a short distance until they reached a 
village, where there was a very nice house and grounds, quite like the establishment of 
a person of position. As his friend was now getting sober, Fng inquired what might be 
his name. Dont be frightened when I tell you, said the other; I am the Eighth Prince 
of the Tiao river. I have just been out to take wine with a friend, and somehow I got 
tipsy; hence my bad behaviour to you, which please forgive. Fng now knew that he 
was not of mortal flesh and blood; but, seeing how kindly he himself was treated, he 
was not a bit afraid. 

A banquet followed, with plenty of wine, of which the Eighth Prince drank so 
freely that Fng thought he would soon be worse than ever, and accordingly said he 
felt tipsy himself, and asked to be allowed to go to bed. Never fear, answered the 
Prince, who perceived Fngs thoughts; many drunkards will tell you that they cannot 
remember in the morning the extravagances of the previous night, but I tell you this is 
all nonsense, and that in nine cases out of ten those extravagances are committed 


wittingly and with malice prepense.2 Now, though I am not the same order of being as 
yourself, I should never venture to behave badly in your good presence; so pray do not 
leave me thus. Fng then sat down again and said to the Prince, Since you are aware 
of this, why not change your ways? Ah, replied the Prince, when I was a magistrate 
I drank much more than I do now; but I got into disgrace with the Emperor and was 
banished here, since which time, ten years and more, I have tried to reform. Now, 
however, I am drawing near the wood[3] and being unable [p. 284] to move about 
much, the old vice has come upon me again; I have found it impossible to stop myself, 
but perhaps what you say may do me some good. 

While they were thus talking, the sound of a distant bell broke upon their ears 
and the Prince, getting up and seizing Fngs hand, said, We cannot remain together 
any longer; but I will give you something by which I may in part requite your kindness 
to me. It must not be kept for any great length of time when you have attained your 
wishes, then I will receive it back again. Thereupon he spat out of his mouth a tiny 
man, no more than an inch high, and scratching Fngs arm with his nails until Fng 
felt as if the skin was gone, he quickly laid the little man upon the spot. When he let 
go, the latter had already sunk into the skin, and nothing was to be seen but a cicatrix 
well healed over. Fng now asked what it all meant, but the Prince only laughed, and 
said, Its time for you to go, and forthwith escorted him to the door. The Prince here 
bade him adieu, and when he looked round, Prince, village, and house had all 
disappeared together, leaving behind a great turtle which waddled down into the water, 
and disappeared likewise. 

He could now easily account for the Princes present to him; and from this 
moment his sight became intensely keen. He could see precious stones lying in the 
bowels of the earth, and was able to look down as far as Hell itself; besides which he 
suddenly found that he knew the names of many things of which he had never heard 
before. From below his own bedroom he dug up many hundred ounces of pure silver, 
upon which he lived very comfortably; and once when a house was for sale, he 
perceived that in it lay concealed a vast quantity of gold, so he immediately bought it, 
and so became immensely rich in all kinds of valuables. He secured a mirror, on the 
back of which was a phoenix, surrounded by water and clouds, and portraits of the 
celebrated wives of the Emperor Shun,4 so beautifully executed that each hair of the 
head and eyebrows could easily be counted. If any womans face came upon the mirror, 
there it remained indelibly fixed and not to be rubbed out; but if the same woman 
looked into the mirror again, dressed in a different dress, or if some other woman 
chanced to look in, then the former face would gradually fade away. [p. 285] 

Now the third princess in Prince Sus family was very beautiful; and Fng, who 
had long heard of her fame, concealed himself on the Kung-tung hill, when he knew 
the Princess was going there. He waited until she alighted from her chair, and then 
getting the mirror full upon her, he walked off home. Laying it on the table, he saw 
therein a lovely girl in the act of raising her handkerchief, and with a sweet smile 
playing over her face; her lips seemed about to move, and a twinkle was discernible in 
her eyes.5 Delighted with this picture, he put the mirror very carefully away; but in 
about a year his wife had let the story leak out, and the Prince, hearing of it, threw 
Fng into prison, and took possession of the mirror. Fng was to be beheaded; 
however, he bribed one of the Princes ladies to tell His Highness that if he would 
pardon him all the treasures of the earth might easily become his; whereas, on the 
other hand, his death could not possibly be of any advantage to the Prince. The Prince 


now thought of confiscating all his goods and banishing him; but the third princess 
observed, that as he had already seen her, were he to die ten times over it would not 
give her back her lost face, and that she had much better marry him. The Prince 
would not hear of this, whereupon his daughter shut herself up and refused all 
nourishment, at which the ladies of the palace were dreadfully alarmed, and reported 
it at once to the Prince. 

Fng was accordingly liberated, and was informed of the determination of the 
Princess, which, however, he declined to fall in with, saying that he was not going thus 
to sacrifice the wife of his days of poverty,6 and would rather die than carry out such 
an order. He added that if His Highness would consent, he would purchase his liberty 
at the price of everything he had. The Prince was exceedingly angry at this, and seized 
Fng again; and meanwhile one of the concubines got Fngs wife into the palace, 
intending to poison her. Fngs wife, however, brought her a beautiful present of a 
coral stand for a looking-glass, and was so agreeable in her conversation, that the 
concubine took a great fancy to her, and presented [p. 286] her to the Princess, who 
was equally pleased, and forthwith determined that they would both be Fngs wives.7 

When Fng heard of this plan, he said to his wife, With a Princes daughter 
there can be no distinctions of first and second wife; but Mrs. Fng paid no heed to 
him, and immediately sent off to the Prince such an enormous quantity of valuables 
that it took a thousand men to carry them, and the Prince himself had never before 
heard of such treasures in his life. Fng was now liberated once more, and solemnised 
his marriage with the Princess. 

One night after this he dreamt that the Eighth Prince came to him and asked 
him to return his former present, saying that to keep it too long would be injurious to 
his chances of life. Fng asked him to take a drink, but the Eighth Prince said that he 
had forsworn wine, acting under Fngs advice, for three years. He then bit Fngs arm, 
and the latter waked up with the pain, to find that the cicatrix on his arm was no 
longer there. 

 

1 The name here used is the Hng or ceaseless river, which is applied by the 
Chinese to the Ganges. A certain number, extending to fifty-three places of figures, is 
called Ganges sand, in allusion to a famous remark that Buddha and the 
B.dhisatras knew of the creation and destruction of every grain of dust in 
Jambudwipa (the universe); how much more the number of the sand-particles in the 
river Ganges? 

2 Drunkenness is not recognised in China as an extenuating circumstance 
neither, indeed, is insanity,a lunatic who takes another mans life being equally 
liable with ordinary persons to the forfeiture of his own. 

3 A favourite Chinese figure expressive of old age. It dates back to the 
celebrated commentary by Tso-chiu Ming on Confucius Spring and Autumn (see No. 
XLI., note 2):Hsi is twenty-three and I am twenty-five; and marrying thus we shall 
approach the wood together; the wood being, of course, that of the coffin. 

4 See No. VIII., note 3. 

5 . . . Move these eyes? 
. . . Here are severed lips. 


Merchant of Venice, Act III, sc. 2. 

6 See No. LIII., note 1. 

7 This method of arranging a matrimonial difficulty is a common one in Chinese 
fiction, but I should say quite unknown in real life. 

LXVII. THE MAGIC PATH 

IN the province of Kuangtung there lived a scholar named Kuo, who was one 
evening on his way home from a friends, when he lost his way among the hills. He got 
into a thick jungle, where, after about an hours wandering, he suddenly heard the 
sound of laughing and talking on the top of the hill. Hurrying up in the direction of the 
sound, he beheld some ten or a dozen persons sitting on the ground engaged in 
drinking. No sooner had they caught sight of Kuo than they all cried out, Come along! 
just room for one more; youre in the nick of time. So Kuo sat down with the company, 
most of whom, he noticed, belonged to the literati,l and began by asking them to direct 
him on his [p. 287] way home; but one of them cried out, A nice sort of fellow you are, 
to be bothering about your way home, and paying no attention to the fine moon we 
have got tonight. The speaker then presented him with a goblet of wine of exquisite 
bouquet, which Kuo drank off at a draught, and another gentleman filled up again for 
him at once. Now, Kuo was pretty good in that line, and being very thirsty withal from 
his long walk, tossed off bumper after bumper, to the great delight of his hosts, who 
were unanimous in voting him a jolly good fellow. 

He was, moreover, full of fun, and could imitate exactly the note of any kind of 
bird; so all of a sudden he began on the sly to twitter like a swallow, to the great 
astonishment of the others, who wondered how it was a swallow could be out so late. 
He then changed his note to that of a cuckoo, sitting there laughing and saying 
nothing, while his hosts were discussing the extraordinary sounds they had just heard. 
After a while he imitated a parrot, and cried, Mr. Kuo is very drunk: youd better see 
him home; and then the sounds ceased, beginning again by-and-by, when at last the 
others found out who it was, and all burst out laughing. They screwed up their 
mouths and tried to whistle like Kuo, but none of them could do so; and soon one of 
them observed, What a pity Madam Ching isnt with us: we must rendezvous here 
again at mid-autumn, and you, Mr. Kuo, must be sure and come. 

Kuo said he would, whereupon another of his hosts got up and remarked that, 
as he had given them such an amusing entertainment, they would try to show him a 
few acrobatic feats. They all arose, and one of them planting his feet firmly, a second 
jumped up on to his shoulders, a third on to the seconds shoulders, and a fourth on 
to his, until it was too high for the rest to jump up, and accordingly they began to 
climb as though it had been a ladder. When they were all up, and the topmost head 
seemed to touch the clouds, the whole column bent gradually down until it lay along 
the ground transformed into a path. Kuo remained for some time in a state of 
considerable alarm, and then, setting out along this path, ultimately reached his own 
home. Some days [p. 288] afterwards he revisited the spot, and saw the remains of a 
feast lying about on the ground, with dense bushes on all sides, but no sign of a path. 
At mid-autumn he thought of keeping his engagement; however, his friends persuaded 
him not to go. 

 


1 This term, while really including all literary men, of no matter what rank or 
standing, is more usually confined to that large section of unemployed scholarship 
made up of (1) those who are waiting to get started in an official career, (2) those who 
have taken one or more degrees and are preparing for the next, (3) those who have 
failed to distinguish themselves at the public examinations, and eke out a small 
patrimony by taking pupils, and (4) scholars of sufficiently high qualifications who 
have no taste for official life. 

LXVIII. THE FAITHLESS WIDOW 

MR. Niu was a Kiangsi man who traded in piece goods. He married a wife from 
the Cheng family, by whom he had two children, a boy and a girl. When thirty-three 
years of age he fell ill and died, his son Chung being then only twelve and his little girl 
eight or nine. His wife did not remain faithful to his memory, but, selling off all the 
property, pocketed the proceeds and married another man, leaving her two children 
almost in a state of destitution with their aunt, Nius sister-in-law, an old lady of sixty, 
who had lived with them previously, and had now nowhere to seek a shelter. 

A few years later this aunt died, and the family fortunes began to sink even 
lower than before; Chung, however, was now grown up, and determined to carry on 
his fathers trade, only he had no capital to start with. His sister marrying a rich 
trader named Mao, she begged her husband to lend Chung ten ounces of silver, which 
he did, and Chung immediately started for Nanking. On the road he fell in with some 
bandits, who robbed him of all he had, and consequently he was unable to return; but 
one day when he was at a pawnshop he noticed that the master of the shop was 
wonderfully like his late father, and on going out and making inquiries he found that 
this pawnbroker bore precisely the same names. In great astonishment, he forthwith 
proceeded to [p. 289] frequent the place with no other object than to watch this man, 
who, on the other hand, took no notice of Chung and by the end of three days, having 
satisfied himself that he really saw his own father, and yet not daring to disclose his 
own identity, he made application through one of the assistants, on the score of being 
himself a Kiangsi man, to be employed in the shop. 

Accordingly, an indenture was drawn up; and when the master noticed Chungs 
name and place of residence he started, and asked him whence he came. With tears in 
his eyes Chung addressed him by his fathers name, and then the pawnbroker became 
lost in a deep reverie, by-and-by asking Chung how his mother was. Now Chung did 
not like to allude to his fathers death, and turned the question by saying, My father 
went away on business six years ago, and never came back; my mother married again 
and left us, and had it not been for my aunt our corpses would long ago have been 
cast out in the kennel. Then the pawnbroker was much moved, and cried out, I am 
your father! seizing his sons hand and leading him within to see his step-mother. 
This lady was about twenty-two, and, having no children of her own, was delighted 
with Chung, and prepared a banquet for him in the inner apartments. Mr. Niu himself 
was, however, somewhat melancholy, and wished to return to his old home; but his 
wife, fearing that there would be no one to manage the business, persuaded him to 
remain; so he taught his son the trade, and in three months was able to leave it all to 
him. 

He then prepared for his journey, whereupon Chung informed his step-mother 
that his father was really dead, to which she replied in great consternation that she 


knew him only as a trader to the place, and that six years previously he had married 
her, which proved conclusively that he couldnt be dead. He then recounted the whole 
story, which was a perfect mystery to both of them; and twenty-four hours afterwards 
in walked his father, leading a woman whose hair was all dishevelled. Chung looked at 
her, and saw that she was his own mother; and Niu took her by the ear and began to 
revile her, saying, Why did you desert my children? to which the wretched woman 
made no reply. He then bit her across the neck, at which she screamed to Chung for 
assistance, and he, not being able [p. 290] to bear the sight, stepped in between them. 
His father was more than ever enraged at this, when, lo! Chungs mother had 
disappeared. While they were still lost in astonishment at this strange scene, Mr. Nius 
colour changed; in another moment his empty clothes had dropped upon the ground, 
and he himself became a black vapour and also vanished from their sight. 

The step-mother and son were much overcome; they took Nius clothes and 
buried them, and after that Chung continued his fathers business, and soon amassed 
great wealth. On returning to his native place he found that his mother had actually 
died on the very day of the above occurrence, and that his father had been seen by the 
whole family. 

 

1 Unless under exceptional circumstances, it is not considered creditable in 
China for widows to marry again. It may here be mentioned that the honorary tablets 
conferred from time to time by His Imperial Majesty upon virtuous widows are only 
given to women who, widowed before the age of thirty, have remained in that state for 
a period of thirty years. The meaning of this is obvious; temptations are supposed to 
be fewer and less dangerous after thirty, which is the equivalent of forty with us; and 
it is wholly improbable that thirty years of virtuous life, at which period the widow 
would be at least fifty, would be followed by any act that might cast a stain upon the 
tablet thus bestowed. 

LXIX. THE PRINCESS OF THE TUNG-TING LAKE 

CHN PI-CHIAO was a Pekingese; and being a poor man he attached himself as 
secretary to the suite of a high military official named Chia. On one occasion, while 
anchored on the Tung-ting lake, they saw a dolphin[1] floating on the surface of the 
water; and General Chia took his bow and shot at it, wounding the creature in the 
back. A fish was hanging on to its tail, and would not let go; so both were pulled out of 
the water together, and attached to the mast. There they lay gasping, the dolphin 
opening its mouth as if pleading for life, until at length young Chn begged the 
General to let them go again; and then he himself half jokingly put a piece of plaster 
upon the dolphins wound, and had the two thrown back into the water, where they 
were seen for some time after-wards diving and rising again to the surface. 

About a year afterwards, Chn was once more crossing the Tung-ting lake on 
his way home, when the boat was upset in a squall, and he himself only saved by 
clinging to a bamboo crate, which finally, after floating about all night, caught [p. 291] 
in the overhanging branch of a tree, and thus enabled him to scramble on shore. By-
and-by, another body floated in, and this turned out to be his servant; but on dragging 
him out, he found life was already extinct. In great distress, he sat himself down to 
rest, and saw beautiful green hills and waving willows, but not a single human being 
of whom he could ask the way. From early dawn till the morning was far advanced he 


remained in that state; and then, thinking he saw his servants body move, he 
stretched out his hand to feel it, and before long the man threw up several quarts of 
water and recovered consciousness. They now dried their clothes in the sun, and by 
noon these were fit to put on; at which period the pangs of hunger began to assail 
them, and accordingly they started over the hills in the hope of coming upon some 
habitation of man. 

As they were walking along, an arrow whizzed past, and the next moment two 
young ladies dashed by on handsome palfreys. Each had a scarlet band round her 
head, with a bunch of pheasants feathers stuck in her hair, and wore a purple riding-
jacket with small sleeves, confined by a green embroidered girdle round the waist. One 
of them carried a cross-bow for shooting bullets, and the other had on her arm a dark-
coloured bow-and-arrow case. Reaching the brow of the hill, Chn beheld a number of 
riders engaged in beating the surrounding cover, all of whom were beautiful girls and 
dressed exactly alike. Afraid to advance any further, he inquired of a youth who 
appeared to be in attendance, and the latter told him that it was a hunting party from 
the palace; and then, having supplied him with food from his wallet, he bade him 
retire quickly, adding that if he fell in with them he would assuredly be put to death. 

Thereupon Chn hurried away; and descending the hill, turned into a copse 
where there was a building which he thought would in all probability be a monastery. 
On getting nearer, he saw that the place was surrounded by a wall, and between him 
and a half-open red door was a brook spanned by a stone bridge leading up to it. 
Pulling back the door, he beheld within a number of ornamental buildings circling in 
the air like so many clouds, and for all the world resembling the Imperial pleasure-
grounds and thinking it must be the park of some official personage, [p. 292] he 
walked quietly in, enjoying the delicious fragrance of the flowers as he pushed aside 
the thick vegetation which obstructed his way. After traversing a winding path fenced 
in by balustrades, Chn reached a second enclosure, wherein were a quantity of tall 
willow-trees which swept the red eaves of the buildings with their branches. The note 
of some bird would set the petals of the flowers fluttering in the air, and the least wind 
would bring the seed-vessels down from the elm-trees above; and the effect upon the 
eye and heart of the beholder was something quite unknown in the world of mortals. 

Passing through a small kiosque, Chn and his servant came upon a swing 
which seemed as though suspended from the clouds, while the ropes hung idly down 
in the utter stillness that prevailed.2 Thinking by this that they were approaching the 
ladies apartments,3 Chn would have turned back, but at that moment he heard 
sounds of horses feet at the door, and what seemed to be the laughter of a bevy of 
girls. So he and his servant hid themselves in a bush; and by-and-by, as the sounds 
came nearer, he heard one of the young ladies say, Weve had but poor sport to-day; 
whereupon another cried out, If the princess hadnt shot that wild goose, we should 
have taken all this trouble for nothing. Shortly after this, a number of girls dressed in 
red came in escorting a young lady, who went and sat down under the kiosque. She 
wore a hunting costume with tight[4] sleeves, and was about fourteen or fifteen years 
old. Her hair looked like a cloud of mist at the back of her head, and her waist seemed 
as though a breath of wind might snap it[5]incomparable for beauty, even [p. 293] 
among the celebrities of old. Just then the attendants handed her some exquisitely 
fragrant tea, and stood glittering round her like a bank of beautiful embroidery. In a 
few moments the young lady arose and descended from the kiosque; at which one of 
her attendants cried out, Is your Highness too fatigued by riding to take a turn in the 


swing? The princess replied that she was not; and immediately some held her under 
the shoulders, while others seized her arms, and others, again, arranged her 
petticoats and supported her feet. Thus they helped her into the swing, she herself 
stretching out her shining arms, and putting her feet into a suitable pair of slippers;6 
and then away she went, light as a flying-swallow, far up into the fleecy clouds. As 
soon as she had had enough, the attendants helped her out, and one of them 
exclaimed, Truly, your Highness is a perfect angel! At this the young lady laughed, 
and walked away, Chn gazing after her in a state of semi-consciousness, until, at 
length, the voices died away, and he and his servant crept forth. Walking up and down 
near the swing, he suddenly espied a red handkerchief near the paling, which he knew 
had been dropped by one of the young ladies; and, thrusting it joyfully into his sleeve, 
he walked up and entered the kiosque. There, upon a table, lay writing materials, and 
taking out the handkerchief he indited upon it the following lines: 

 What form divine was just now sporting nigh? 

Twas she, I trove, of golden lily fame; 

Her charms the moons fair denizens might shame, 

 Her fairy footsteps bear her to the sky. 

 

Humming this stanza to himself, Chn walked along seeking for the path by 
which he had entered; but every door was securely barred; and he knew not what to 
do. So he went back to the kiosque, when suddenly one of the young ladies appeared, 
and asked him in astonishment what he did there. I have lost my way, replied Chn; 
[p. 294] I pray you lend me your assistance. Do you happen to have found a red 
handkerchief? said the girl. I have, indeed, answered Chn, but I fear I have made 
it somewhat dirty; and, suiting the action to the word, he drew it forth, and handed it 
to her. Wretched man! cried the young lady, you are undone. This is a handkerchief 
the Princess is constantly using, and you have gone and scribbled all over it; what will 
become of you now? 

Chn was in a great fright, and begged the young lady to intercede for him; to 
which she replied, It was bad enough that you should come here and spy about; 
however, being a scholar, and a man of refinement, I would have done my best for you; 
but after this, how am I to help you? Off she then ran with the handkerchief, while 
Chn remained behind in an agony of suspense, and longing for the wings of a bird to 
bear him away from his fate. By-and-by the young lady returned and congratulated 
him, saying, There is some hope for you. The Princess read your verses several times 
over, and was not at all angry. You will probably be released; but, meanwhile, wait 
here, and dont climb the trees, or try to get through the walls, or you may not escape 
after all. Evening was now drawing on, and Chn knew not, for certain, what was 
about to happen; at the same time he was very empty, and, what with hunger and 
anxiety, death would have been almost a happy release. Before long, the young lady 
returned with a lamp in her hand, and followed by a slave-girl bearing wine and food, 
which she forthwith presented to Chn. The latter asked if there was any news about 
himself; to which the young lady replied that she had just mentioned his case to the 
Princess, who, not knowing what to do with him at that hour of the night, had given 
orders that he should at once be provided with food, which, at any rate, added she, 
is not bad news. The whole night long Chn walked up and down, unable to take 
rest; and it was not till late in the morning that the young lady appeared with more 
food for him. Imploring her once more to intercede on his behalf, she told him that the 


Princess had not instructed them either to kill or to release him, and that it would not 
be fitting for such as herself to be bothering the Princess with suggestions. So there 
Chen still remained until another day had almost [p. 295] gone, hoping for the 
welcome moment; and then the young lady rushed hurriedly in, saying, You are lost! 
Some one has told the Queen, and she, in a fit of anger, threw the handkerchief on the 
ground, and made use of very violent language. Oh dear! Oh dear! Im sure something 
dreadful will happen. Chn threw himself on his knees, his face as pale as ashes, 
and begged to know what he should do; but at that moment sounds were heard 
outside, and the young lady waved her hand to him, and ran away. Immediately a 
crowd came pouring in through the door, with ropes ready to secure the object of their 
search; and among them was a slave-girl, who looked fixedly atour hero, and cried out, 
Why, surely you are Mr. Chn, arent you? at the same time stopping the others 
from binding him until she should have reported to the Queen. In a few minutes she 
came back, and said the Queen requested him to walk in; and in he went, through a 
number of doors, trembling all the time with fear, until he reached a hall, the screen 
before which was ornamented with green jade and silver. A beautiful girl drew aside 
the bamboo curtain at the door, and announced, Mr. Chn; and he himself 
advanced, and fell down before a lady, who was sitting upon a dais at the other end, 
knocking his head upon the ground, and crying out, Thy servant is from afar-off 
country; spare, oh I spare his life. Sir! replied the Queen, rising hastily from her 
seat, and extending a hand to Chn, but for you, I should not be here to-day. Pray 
excuse the rudeness of my maids. Thereupon a splendid repast was served, and wine 
was poured out in chased goblets, to the no small astonishment of Chn, who could 
not understand why he was treated thus. Your kindness, observed the Queen, in 
restoring me to life, I am quite unable to repay.; however, as you have made my 
daughter the subject of your verse, the match is clearly ordained by fate, and I shall 
send her along to be your handmaid. Chn hardly knew what to make of this 
extraordinary accomplishment of his wishes, but the marriage was solemnised there 
and then; bands of music struck up wedding-airs, beautiful mats were laid down for 
them to walk upon, and the whole place was brilliantly lighted with a profusion of 
coloured lamps. Then Chn said to the Princess, That [p. 296] a stray and unknown 
traveller like myself, guilty of spoiling your Highnesss handkerchief, should have 
escaped the fate he deserved, was already more than could be expected; but now to 
receive you in marriagethis, indeed, far surpasses my wildest expectations. My 
mother, replied the Princess, is married to the King of this lake, and is herself a 
daughter of the River Prince. Last year, when on her way to visit her parents, she 
happened to cross the lake, and was wounded by an arrow; but you saved her life, and 
gave her plaster for the wound. Our family, therefore, is grateful to you, and can never 
forget your good act. And do not regard me as of another species than yourself; the 
Dragon King has bestowed upon me the elixir of immortality, and this I will gladly 
share with you. 

Then Chn knew that his wife was a spirit, and by-and-by he asked her how 
the slave-girl had recognised him; to which she replied, that the girl was the small fish 
which had been found hanging to the dolphins tail. He then inquired why, as they 
didnt intend to kill him, he had been kept so long a prisoner. I was charmed with 
your literary talent, answered the Princess, but I did not venture to take the 
responsibility upon myself; and no one saw how I tossed and turned the livelong 
night. Dear friend, said Chn; but, come, tell me who was it that brought my food. 
A trusty waiting-maid of mine, replied the Princess; her name is A-nien. Chn then 


asked how he could ever repay her, and the Princess told him there would be plenty of 
time to think of that; and when he inquired where the King, her father, was, she said 
he had gone off with the God of War to fight against Chih-yu,7 and had not returned. 

A few days passed, and Chn began to think his people at home would be 
anxious about him; so he sent off his servant with a letter to tell them he was safe and 
sound, at which they were all overjoyed, believing him to have been lost in the wreck 
of the boat, of which event news had already reached them. However, they were 
unable to send him any reply, and were considerably distressed [p. 297] as to how he 
would find his way home again. 

Six months afterwards Chn himself appeared, dressed in fine clothes, and 
riding on a splendid horse, with plenty of money, and valuable jewels in his pocket
evidently a man of wealth. From that time forth he kept up a magnificent 
establishment; and in seven or eight years had become the father of five children. 
Every day he kept open house, and if any one asked him about his adventures, he 
would readily tell them without reservation. Now a friend of his, named Liang, whom 
he had known since they were boys together, and who, after holding an appointment 
for some years in Nan-fu, was crossing the Tung-ting lake, on his way home, suddenly 
beheld an ornamental barge, with carved woodwork and red windows, passing over the 
foamy waves to the sound of music and singing from within. Just then a beautiful 
young lady leant out of one of the windows, which she had pushed open, and by her 
side Liang saw a young man sitting, in a nglig attitude, while two nice-looking girls 
stood by and shampooed[8] him. Liang, at first, thought it must be the party of some 
high official, and wondered at the scarcity of attendants;9 but, on looking more closely 
at the young man, he saw it was no other than his old friend Chn. Thereupon he 
began almost involuntarily to shout out to him; and when Chn heard his own name, 
he stopped the rowers, and walked out towards the figurehead,10 beckoning Liang to 
cross over into his boat, where the remains of their feast were quickly cleared away, 
and fresh supplies of wine, and tea, and all kinds of costly foods spread out by 
handsome slave-girls. Its ten years since we met, said Liang, and what a rich man 
you have become in the meantime. Well, replied Chn, do you think that so very 
extraordinary for a poor fellow like me? 

Liang then asked him who was the lady with whom he [p. 298] was taking wine, 
and Chn said she was his wife, which very much astonished Liang, who further 
inquired whither they were going. Westwards, answered Chn, and prevented any 
further questions by giving a signal for the music, which effectually put a stop to all 
further conversation.11 By-and-by, Liang found the wine getting into his head, and 
seized the opportunity to ask Chn to make him a present of one of his beautiful 
slave-girls. You are drunk,12 my friend, replied Chn; however, I will give you the 
price of one as a pledge of our old friendship. And, turning to a servant, he bade him 
present Liang with a splendid pearl, saying, Now you can buy a Green Pearl;[13] you 
see I am not stingy adding forthwith, but I am pressed for time, and can stay no 
longer with my old friend. So he escorted Liang back to his boat, and, having let go 
the rope, proceeded on his way. 

Now, when Liang reached home, and called at Chns house, whom should he 
see but Chn himself drinking with a party of friends! Why, I saw you only 
yesterday, cried Liang, upon the Tung-ting. How quickly you have got back! Chn 
denied this, and then Liang repeated the whole story, at the conclusion of which Chn 
laughed, and said, You must be mistaken. Do you imagine I can be in two places at 


once? The company were all much astonished, and knew not what to make of it; and 
subsequently when Chn, who died at the age of eighty, was being carried to his grave, 
the bearers thought the coffin seemed remarkably light, and on opening it to see, 
found that the body had disappeared.14 [p. 299] 

 

1 Literally, a pig old-woman dragon. Porpoise (Fr. porc-poisson) suggests itself 
at once; but I think fresh-water dolphin is the best term, especially as the Tung-ting 
lake is many hundred miles inland. The commentator explains it by to, which would 
be alligator or cayman, and is of course out of the question. 

2 Literally, in the utter absence of anybody. 

3 In passing near to the womens quarters in a friends house, it is etiquette to 
cough slightly, that inmates may be warned and withdraw from the doors or windows 
in time to escape observation. Over and over again at interviews with mandarins of all 
grades I have heard the rustling of the ladies dresses from some coign of vantage, 
whence every movement of mine was being watched by an inquisitive crowd; and on 
one occasion I actually saw an eye peering through a small hole in the partition 
behind me. 

4 Literally, baldi.e., without the usual width and ornamentation of a 
Chinese ladys sleeve. 

5 Small waists are much admired in China, but any such artificial aids as stays 
and tight lacing are quite unknown. A certain Prince Wei admitted none but the 
possessors of small waists into his harem; hence his establishment came to be called 
the Palace of Small Waists. 

6 Probably of felt or some such material, to prevent the young lady from 
slipping as she stood, in this case, not sat, in the swing. Chinese girls swing either 
standing or sitting. 

7 A rebel chieftain of the legendary period of Chinas history, who took up arms 
against the Emperor Huang Ti (B. C. 2698-2598), but was subsequently defeated in 
what was perhaps the first decisive battle of the world. 

8 This favourite process consists in gently thumping the person operated upon 
all over the back with the soft part of the closed fists. Compare Lane, Arabian Nights, 
Vol. I., p. 551:She then pressed me to her bosom, and laid me on the bed, and 
continued gently kneading my limbs until slumber overcame me. 

9 See No. LVI., note 5. A considerable number of the attendants there 
mentioned would accompany any high official, some in the same, the rest in another 
barge. 

10 Generally known as the cut-wave God. 

11 At all great banquets in China a theatrical troupe is engaged to perform 
while the dinner, which may last from four to six hours, drags its slow length along. 

12 See No. LIV., note 1. 

13 The name of a celebrated beauty. 

14 See No. LXIII., note 17. 


LXX. THE PRINCESS LILY 

AT Chiao-chou there lived a man named Tou Hs-an, otherwise known as Hsiao-
hui. One day he had just dropped off to sleep when he beheld a man in serge clothes 
standing by the bedside, and apparently anxious to communicate something to him. 
Tou inquired his errand , to which the man replied that he was the bearer of an 
invitation from his master. And who is your master? asked Tou. Oh, he doesnt live 
far off, replied the other; so away they went together, and after some time came to a 
place where there were innumerable white houses rising one above the other, and 
shaded by dense groves of lemon-trees. They threaded their way past countless doors, 
not at all similar to those usually used, and saw a great many official-looking men and 
women passing and repassing, each of whom called out to the man in serge, Has Mr. 
Tou come? to which he always replied in the affirmative. Here a mandarin met them 
and escorted Tou into a palace, upon which the latter remarked, This is really very 
kind of you; but I havent the honour of knowing you, and I feel somewhat diffident 
about going in. Our Prince, answered his guide, has long heard of you as a man of 
good family and excellent principles, and is very anxious to make your acquaintance. 
Who is your Prince? inquired Tou. Youll see for yourself in a moment, said the 
other; and just then out came two girls with banners, and guided Tou through a great 
number of doors until they came to a throne, upon which sat the Prince. His Highness 
immediately descended to meet him, and made him take the seat of honour; after 
which ceremony exquisite viands of all kinds were spread out before them. Looking up, 
Tou noticed a scroll, on which was inscribed, The Cassia Court, and he was just 
beginning to feel puzzled as to what he should say next, when the Prince addressed 
him as follows:The honour of having you for a neighbour is, as it were, a bond of 
affinity between us. Let us, then, give ourselves up to enjoyment, and put away 
suspicion and fear. Tou murmured his acquiescence; and when the wine had gone 
round several times there arose from a distance the sound of pipes and singing, 
unaccompanied, however, by the usual drum, and very [p. 300] much subdued in 
volume. Thereupon the Prince looked about him and cried out, We are about to set a 
verse for any of you gentlemen to cap; here you are:Genius seeks the Cassia Court. 
While the courtiers were all engaged in thinking of some fit antithesis,l Tou added, 
Refinement loves the Lily flower; upon which the Prince exclaimed, How strange! Lily 
is my daughters name; and, after such a coincidence, she must come in for you to see 
her. In a few moments the tinkling of her ornaments and a delicious fragrance of 
musk announced the arrival of the Princess, who was between sixteen and seventeen, 
and endowed with surpassing beauty. The Prince bade her make an obeisance to Tou, 
at the same time introducing her as his daughter Lily; and as soon as the ceremony 
was over the young lady moved away. Tou remained in a state of stupefaction, and, 
when the Prince proposed that they should pledge each other in another bumper, paid 
not the slightest attention to what he said. Then the Prince, perceiving what had 
distracted his guests attention, remarked that he was anxious to find a consort for his 
daughter, but that unfortunately there was the difficulty of species, and he didnt 
know what to do; but again Tou took no notice of what the Prince was saying, until at 
length one of the bystanders plucked his sleeve, and asked him if he hadnt seen that 
the Prince wished to drink with him, and had just been addressing some remarks to 
him. Thereupon Tou started, and, recovering himself at once, rose from the table and 
apologised to the Prince for his rudeness, declaring that he had taken so much wine 
he didnt know what he was doing. Besides, said he, your Highness has doubtless 
business to transact; I will therefore take my leave. I am extremely pleased to have 


seen you, replied the Prince, and only regret that you are in such a hurry to be gone. 
However, I wont detain you now; but, if you dont forget all about us, I shall be very 
glad to invite you here again. He then gave orders that Tou should be escorted home; 
and on the way one of the courtiers [p. 301] asked the latter why he had said nothing 
when the Prince had spoken of a consort for his daughter, as his Highness had 
evidently made the remark with an eye to securing Tou as his son-in-law. The latter 
was now sorry that he had missed his opportunity; meanwhile they reached his house, 
and he himself awoke. 

The sun had already set, and there he sat in the gloom thinking of what had 
happened. In the evening he put out his candle, hoping to continue his dream; but, 
alas! the thread was broken, and all he could do was to pour forth his repentance in 
sighs. 

One night he was sleeping at a friends house, when suddenly an officer of the 
Court walked in and summoned him to appear before the Prince; so up he jumped, 
and hurried off at once to the palace, where he prostrated himself before the throne. 
The Prince raised him and made him sit down, saying that since they had last met he 
had become aware that Tou would be willing to marry his daughter, and hoped that he 
might be allowed to offer her as a handmaid. Tou rose and thanked the Prince, who 
thereupon gave orders for a banquet to be prepared; and when they had finished their 
wine it was announced that the Princess had completed her toilet. Immediately a bevy 
of young ladies came in with the Princess in their midst, a red veil covering her head, 
gliding with tiny footsteps as they led her up to be introduced to Tou. When the 
ceremonies were concluded, Tou said to the Princess, In your presence, Madam, it 
would be easy to forget even death itself; but, tell me, is not this all a dream? And 
how can it be a dream, asked the Princess, when you and I are here together? 

Next morning Tou amused himself by helping the Princess to paint her face,2 
and then with a girdle he began to measure the size of her waists and with his fingers 
the length of her feet. Are you crazy? cried she, laughing; to which Tou replied, I 
have been deceived so often by dreams, that I am now making a careful record. If such 
it turns out to be, I shall still have something as a souvenir of you. While they were 
thus chatting a maid rushed into the room, shrieking out, Alas! alas! a great monster 
has got into the palace: the Prince has [p. 302] fled into a side chamber: destruction is 
surely come upon us. Tou was in a great fright when he heard this, and rushed off to 
see the Prince, who grasped his hand and, with tears in his eyes, begged him not to 
desert them. Our relationship, cried he, was cemented when Heaven sent this 
calamity upon us; and now my kingdom will be overthrown. What shall I do? Tou 
begged to know what was the matter; and then the Prince laid a despatch upon the 
table, telling Tou to open it and make himself acquainted with its contents. This 
despatch ran as follows:The Grand Secretary of State, Black Wings, to His Royal 
Highness, announcing the arrival of an extraordinary monster, and advising the 
immediate removal of the Court in order to preserve the vitality of the empire. A report 
has just been received from the officer in charge of the Yellow Gate stating that, ever 
since the 6th of the 5th moon, a huge monster, 10,000 feet in length, has been lying 
coiled up outside the entrance to the palace, and that it has already devoured 13,800 
and odd of your Highnesss subjects, and is spreading desolation far and wide. On 
receipt of this information your servant proceeded to make a reconnaissance, and 
there beheld a venomous reptile with a head as big as a mountain and eyes like vast 
sheets of water. Every time it raised its head, whole buildings disappeared down its 


throat; and, on stretching itself out, walls and houses were alike laid in ruins. In all 
antiquity there is no record of such a scourge. The fate of our temples and ancestral 
halls is now a mere question of hours; we therefore pray your Royal Highness to 
depart at once with the Royal Family and seek somewhere else a happier abode.4 

When Tou had read this document his face turned ashy pale; and just then a 
messenger rushed in, shrieking out, Here is the monster! at which the whole Court 
burst into lamentations as if their last hour was at hand. The Prince was beside 
himself with fear; all he could do was to beg Tou to look to his own safety without 
regarding the wife through whom he was involved in their misfortunes. The Princess, 
however, who [p. 303] was standing by bitterly lamenting the fate that had fallen upon 
them, begged Tou not to desert her; and, after a moments hesitation, he said he 
should be only too happy to place his own poor home at their immediate disposal if 
they would only deign to honour him. How can we talk of deigning, cried the Princess, 
at such a moment as this? I pray you take us there as quickly as possible. So Tou 
gave her his arm, and in no time they had arrived at Taus house, which the Princess 
at once pronounced to be a charming place of residence, and better even than their 
former kingdom. But I must now ask you, said she to Tou, to make some 
arrangement for my father and mother, that the old order of things may be continued 
here. Tou at first offered objections to this; whereupon the Princess said that a man 
who would not help another in his hour of need was not much of a man, and 
immediately went off into a fit of hysterics, from which Tou was trying his best to 
recall her, when all of a sudden he awoke and found that it was all a dream. 

However, he still heard a buzzing in his ears which he knew was not made by 
any human being, and, on looking carefully about, he discovered two or three bees 
which had settled on his pillow. He was very much astonished at this, and consulted 
with his friend, who was also greatly amazed at his strange story; and then the latter 
pointed out a number of other bees on various parts of his dress, none of which would 
go away even when brushed off. His friend now advised him to get a hive for them, 
which he did without delay; and immediately it was filled by a whole swarm of bees, 
which came flying from over the wall in great numbers. 

On tracing whence they had come, it was found that they belonged to an old 
gentleman who lived near, and who had kept bees for more than thirty years 
previously. Tou thereupon went and told him the story; and when the old gentleman 
examined his hive he found the bees all gone. On breaking it open he discovered a 
large snake inside of about ten feet in length, which he immediately killed, recognising 
in it the huge monster of Tous adventure. As for the bees, they remained with Tou, 
and increased in numbers every year. [p. 304] 

 

1 In this favourite pastime of the literati in China the important point is that 
each word in the second line should be a due and proper antithesis of the word in the 
first line to which it corresponds. 

2 See No. LXII., note 1. 

3 See No. LXIX., note 5. 

4 The language in which this fanciful document is couched is precisely such as 
would be used by an officer of the Government in announcing some national calamity; 
hence the value of these tales, models as they are of the purest possible style. 


LXXI. THE DONKEYS REVENGE 

CHUNG CHING-Y was a scholar of some reputation, who lived in Manchuria. 
When he went up for his masters degree, he heard that there was a Taoist priest at 
the capital who would tell peoples fortunes, and was very anxious to see him; and at 
the conclusion of the second part of the examination,1 he accidentally met him at Pao-
tu-chan.2 The priest was over sixty years of age, and had the usual white beard 
flowing down over his breast. Around him stood a perfect wall of people inquiring their 
future fortunes, and to each the old man made a brief reply: but when he saw Chung 
among the crowd, he was overjoyed, and, seizing him by the hand, said, Sir, your 
virtuous intentions command my esteem. He then led him up behind a screen, and 
asked if he did not wish to know what was to come; and when Chung replied in the 
affirmative, the priest informed him that his prospects were bad. You may succeed 
passing this examination, continued he, but on returning covered with honour to 
your home, I fear that your mother will be no longer there. Now Chung was a very 
filial son; and as soon as he heard these words, his tears began to flow, and he 
declared that he would go back without competing any further. The priest observed 
that if he let this chance slip, he could never hope for success; to which Chung replied 
that, on the other hand, if his mother were to die he could never hope to have her 
back again, and that even the rank of Viceroy would not repay him for her loss. Well, 
said the priest, you and I were connected in a former existence, and I must do my 
best to help you now. So he took out a pill which he gave to Chung, and told him that 
if he sent it post-haste by some one to his mother, it would prolong her life for seven 
days, and thus he would be able to see her once again after the examination was over. 
Chung took the pill, and went off in very low spirits; but he soon reflected [p. 305] that 
the span of human life is a matter of destiny, and that every day he could spend at 
home would be one more day devoted to the service of his mother. Accordingly, he got 
ready to start at once, and, hiring a donkey, actually set out on his way back. When 
he had gone about half-a-mile, the donkey turned round and ran home; and when he 
used his whip, the animal threw itself down on the ground. Chung got into a great 
perspiration, and his servant recommended him to remain where he was; but this he 
would not hear of, and hired another donkey, which served him exactly the same trick 
as the other one. The sun was now sinking behind the hills, and his servant advised 
his master to stay and finish his examination while he himself went back home before 
him. Chung had no alternative but to assent, and the next day he hurried through 
with his papers, starting immediately afterwards, and not stopping at all on the way 
either to eat or to sleep. All night long he went on, and arrived to find his mother in a 
very critical state; however, when he gave her the pill she so far recovered that he was 
able to go in and see her. Grasping his hand, she begged him not to weep, telling him 
that she had just dreamt she had been down to the Infernal Regions, where the King 
of Hell had informed her with a gracious smile that her record was fairly clean, and 
that in view of the filial piety of her son she was to have twelve years more of life. 
Chung was rejoiced at this, and his mother was soon restored to her former health. 

Before long the news arrived that Chung had passed his examination; upon 
which he bade adieu to his mother, and went off to the capital, where he bribed the 
eunuchs of the palace to communicate with his friend the Taoist priest. The latter was 
very much pleased, and came out to see him, whereupon Chung prostrated himself at 
his feet. Ah, said the priest, this success of yours, and the prolongation of your good 
mothers life, is all a reward for your virtuous conduct. What have I done in the 


matter? Chung was very much astonished that the priest should already know what 
had happened; however, he now inquired as to his own future. You will never rise to 
high rank, replied the priest, but you will attain [p. 306] the years of an octogenarian. 
In a former state of existence you and I were once travelling together, when you threw 
a stone at a dog, and accidentally killed a frog. Now that frog has reappeared in life as 
a donkey, and according to all principles of destiny you ought to suffer for what you 
did; but your filial piety has touched the Gods, a protecting star-influence has passed 
into your nativity sheet, and you will come to no harm. On the other hand, there is 
your wife; in her former state she was not as virtuous as she might have been, and her 
punishment in this life was to be widowed quite young; you, however, have secured 
the prolongation of your own term of years, and therefore I fear that before long your 
wife will pay the penalty of death. Chung was much grieved at hearing this; but after 
a while he asked the priest where his second wife to be was living. At Chung-chou 
replied the latter; she is now fourteen years old. The priest then bade him adieu, 
telling him that if any mischance should befall him he was to hurry off towards the 
south-east. 

About a year after this, Chungs wife did die; and his mother then desiring him 
to go and visit his uncle, who was a magistrate in Kiangsi, on which journey he would 
have to pass through Chung-chou, it seemed like a fulfilment of the old priests 
prophecy. As he went along, he came to a village on the banks of a river, where a large 
crowd of people was gathered together round a theatrical performance which was 
going on there. Chung would have passed quietly by, had not a stray donkey followed 
so close behind him that he turned round and hit it over the ears. This startled the 
donkey so much that it ran off full gallop, and knocked a rich gentlemans child, who 
was sitting with its nurse on the bank, right into the water, before any one of the 
servants could lend a hand to save it. Immediately there was a great outcry against 
Chung, who gave his mule the rein and dashed away, mindful of the priests warning, 
towards the south-east. 

After riding about seven miles, he reached a mountain village, where he saw an 
old man standing at the door of a house, and, jumping off his mule, made him a low 
bow. The old man asked him in, and inquired his name and whence he came; to which 
Chung replied by telling him the whole adventure. Never fear, [p. 307] said the old 
man; you can stay here, while I send out to learn the position of affairs. 

By the evening his messenger had returned, and then they knew for the first 
time that the child belonged to a wealthy family. The old man looked grave and said, 
Had it been anybody elses child, I might have helped you; as it is I can do nothing. 
Chung was greatly alarmed at this; however, the old man told him to remain quietly 
there for the night, and see what turn matters might take. Chung was overwhelmed 
with anxiety, and did not sleep a wink; and next morning he heard that the constables 
were after him, and that it was death to any one who should conceal him. 

The old man changed countenance at this, and went inside, leaving Chung to 
his own reflections; but towards the middle of the night he came and knocked at 
Chungs door, and, sitting down, began to ask how old his wife was. Chung replied 
that he was a widower; at which the old man seemed rather pleased, and declared that 
in such case help would be forthcoming; for, said he, my sisters husband has taken 
the vows, and become a priest,3 and my sister herself has died, leaving an orphan girl 
who has now no home; and if you would only marry her . . . Chung was delighted, 
more especially as this would be both the fulfilment of the Taoist priests prophecy and 


a means of extricating himself from his present difficulty; at the same time, he 
declared he should be sorry to implicate his future father-in-law. Never fear about 
that, replied the old man; my sisters husband is pretty skilful in the black art. He 
has not mixed much with the world of late; but when you are married, you can 
discuss the matter with my niece. 

So Chung married the young lady, who was sixteen years of age, and very 
beautiful; but whenever he looked at her he took occasion to sigh. At last she said, I 
may be ugly; but you [p. 308] neednt be in such a hurry to let me know it; 
whereupon Chung begged her pardon, and said he felt himself only too lucky to have 
met with such a divine creature; adding that he sighed because he feared some 
misfortune was coming on them which would separate them for ever. He then told her 
his story, and the young lady was very angry that she should have been drawn into 
such a difficulty without a word of warning. Chung fell on his knees, and said he had 
already consulted with her uncle, who was unable himself to do anything, much as he 
wished it. He continued that he was aware of her power; and then, pointing out that 
his alliance was not altogether beneath her, made all kinds of promises if she would 
only help him out of this trouble. The young lady was no longer able to refuse, but 
informed him that to apply to her father would entail certain disagreeable 
consequences, as he had retired from the world, and did not any more recognise her 
as his daughter. 

That night they did not attempt to sleep, spending the interval in padding their 
knees with thick felt concealed beneath their clothes; and then they got into chairs 
and were carried off to the hills. After journeying some distance, they were compelled 
by the nature of the road to alight and walk; and it was only by a great effort that 
Chung succeeded at last in getting his wife to the top. At the door of the temple they 
sat down to rest, the powder and paint on the young ladys face having all mixed with 
the perspiration trickling down; but when Chung began to apologise for bringing her to 
this pass, she replied that it was a mere trifle compared with what was to come. By-
and-by, they went inside and threading their way to the wall behind, found the young 
ladys father sitting in contemplation,4 his eyes closed, and a servant-boy standing by 
with a chowry.5 Everything was beautifully clean and nice, but before the dais were 
sharp stones scattered about as thick as the stars in the sky. The young lady did not 
venture to select a favourable spot; she fell on her knees at once, and Chung did 
likewise behind her. Then her father opened [p. 309] his eyes, shutting them again 
almost instantaneously; whereupon the young lady said, For a long time I have not 
paid my respects to you. I am now married, and I have brought my husband to see 
you. A long time passed away, and then her father opened his eyes and said, Youre 
giving a great deal of trouble, immediately relapsing into silence again. 

There the husband and wife remained until the stones seemed to pierce into 
their very bones; but after a while the father cried out, Have you brought the 
donkey? His daughter replied that they had not; whereupon they were told to go and 
fetch it at once, which they did, not knowing what the meaning of this order was. 

After a few more days kneeling, they suddenly heard that the murderer of the 
child had been caught and beheaded, and were just congratulating each other on the 
success of their scheme, when a servant came in with a stick in his hand, the top of 
which had been chopped off. This stick, said the servant, died instead of you. Bury 
it reverently, that the wrong done to the tree may be somewhat atoned for.6 Then 
Chung saw that at the place where the top of the stick had been chopped off there 


were traces of blood; he therefore buried it with the usual ceremony, and immediately 
set off with his wife, and returned to his own home. 

 

1 The examination consists of three bouts of three days each, during which 
periods the candidates remain shut up in their examination cells day and night. 

2 The name of a place. 

3 This interesting ceremony is performed by placing little conical pastilles on a 
certain number of spots, varying from three to twelve, on the candidates head. These 
are then lighted and allowed to burn down into the flesh, while the surrounding parts 
are vigorously rubbed by attendant priests in order to lessen the pain. The whole thing 
lasts about twenty minutes, and is always performed on the eve of Shakyamuni 
Buddhas birthday. The above was well described by Mr. S. L. Baldwin in the Foochow 
Herald. 

4 There is a room in most Buddhist temples specially devoted to this purpose. 

5 The Buddhist emblem of cleanliness; generally a yaks tail, and commonly 
used as a fly-brush. 

6 Tree-worship can hardly be said to exist in China at the present day; though 
at a comparatively recent epoch this phase of religious sentiment must have been 
widely spread. See The Flower Nymphs and Mr. Willow. 

LXXII. THE WOLF DREAM 

MR. PAI was a native of Chih-li, and his eldest son was called Chia. The latter 
had been some two years holding an appointment as magistrate in the south; but 
because of the great distance between them, his family had heard nothing of him. One 
day a distant connection, named Ting, called at the house; and Mr. Pai, not having 
seen this gentleman for a long time, treated him with much cordiality. Now Ting was 
one of those persons who are occasionally employed by the Judge of the Infernal 
Regions [p. 310] to make arrests on earth;2 and, as they were chatting together, Mr. 
Pai questioned him about the realms below. Ting told him all kinds of strange things, 
but Pai did not believe them, answering only by a smile. 

Some days afterwards, he had just lain down to sleep when Ting walked in and 
asked him to go for a stroll; so they went off together, and by-and-by reached the city. 
There, said Ting, pointing to a door, lives your nephew, alluding to a son of Mr. 
Pais elder sister, who was a magistrate in Honan; and when Pai expressed his doubts 
as to the accuracy of this statement, Ting led him in, when, lo and behold! there was 
his nephew sitting in his court dressed in his official robes. Around him stood the 
guard, and it was impossible to get near him; but Ting remarked that his sons 
residence was not far off, and asked Pai if he would not like to see him too. 

The latter assenting, they walked along till they came to a large building, which 
Ting said was the place. However, there was a fierce wolf at the entrance,3 and Mr. Pai 
was afraid to go in. Ting bade him enter, and accordingly they walked in, when they 
found that all the employes of the place, some of whom were standing about and 
others lying down to sleep, were all wolves. The central pathway was piled up with 
whitening bones, and Mr. Pai began to feel horribly alarmed; but Ting kept close to 
him all the time, and at length they got safely in. 


Pais son, Chia, was just coming out; and when he saw his father accompanied 
by Ting, he was overjoyed, and, asking them to sit down, bade the attendants serve 
some refreshments. Thereupon a great big wolf brought in in his mouth the carcase of 
a dead man, and set it before them, at which Mr. Pai rose up in consternation, and 
asked his son what this meant. Its only a little refreshment for you, father, replied 
Chia; but this did not calm Mr. Pais agitation, who would have retired precipitately, 
had it not been for the crowd of [p. 311] wolves which barred the path. 

Just as he was at a loss what to do, there was a general stampede among the 
animals, which scurried away, some under the couches and some under the tables 
and chairs; and while he was wondering what the cause of this could be, in marched 
two knights in golden armour, who looked sternly at Chia, and, producing a black 
rope, proceeded to bind him hand and foot. Chia fell down before them, and was 
changed into a tiger with horrid fangs; and then one of the knights drew a glittering 
sword and would have cut off its head, had not the other cried out, Not yet! not yet! 
that is for the fourth month next year. Let us now only take out its teeth. Immediately 
that knight produced a huge mallet, and, with a few blows, scattered the tigers teeth 
all over the floor, the tiger roaring so loudly with pain as to shake the very hills, and 
frightening all the wits out of Mr. Paiwho woke up with a start. He found he had 
been dreaming, and at once set off to invite Ting to come and see him; but Ting sent 
back to say he must beg to be excused. 

Then Mr. Pai, pondering on what he had seen in his dream, despatched his 
second son with a letter to Chia, full of warnings and good advice; and lo when his son 
arrived, he found that his elder brother had lost all his front teeth, these having been 
knocked out, as he averred, by a fall he had had from his horse when tipsy; and, on 
comparing dates, the day of that fall was found to coincide with the day of his fathers 
dream. The younger brother was greatly amazed at this, and took out their fathers 
letter, which he gave to Chia to read. The latter changed colour, but immediately 
asked his brother what there was to be astonished at in the coincidence of a dream. 
And just at that time he was busily engaged in bribing his superiors to put him first 
on the list for promotion, so that he soon forgot all about the circumstance; while the 
younger, observing what harpies Chias subordinates were, taking presents from one 
man and using their influence for another, in one unbroken stream of corruption, 
sought out his elder brother, and, with tears in his eyes, implored him to put some 
check upon their rapacity. My brother, replied Chia, your life has been passed in an 
obscure village; you know nothing of our official routine. We are promoted [p. 312] or 
degraded at the will of our superiors, and not by the voice of the people. He, therefore, 
who gratifies his superiors is marked out for success;4 whereas he who consults the 
wishes of the people is unable to gratify his superiors as well. Chias brother saw that 
his advice was thrown away; he accordingly returned home and told his father all that 
had taken place. The old man was much affected, but there was nothing that he could 
do in the matter, so he devoted himself to assisting the poor, and such acts of charity, 
daily praying the Gods that the wicked son alone might suffer for his crimes, and not 
entail misery on his innocent wife and children. 

The next year it was reported that Chia had been recommended for a post in 
the Board of Civil Office,5 and friends crowded the fathers door, offering their 
congratulations upon the happy event. But the old man sighed and took to his bed, 
pretending he was too unwell to receive visitors. Before long another message came, 
informing them that Chia had fallen in with bandits while on his way home, and that 


he and all his retinue had been killed. Then his father arose and said, Verily the Gods 
are good unto me, for they have visited his sins upon himself alone; and he 
immediately proceeded to burn incense and return thanks. Some of his friends would 
have persuaded him that the report was probably untrue; but the old man had no 
doubts as to its correctness, and made haste to get ready his sons grave. 

But Chia was not yet dead. In the fatal fourth moon he had started on his 
journey and had fallen in with bandits, to whom he had offered all his money and 
valuables; upon which the latter cried out, We have come to avenge the cruel wrongs 
of many hundreds of victims; do you imagine we want only that? They then cut off his 
head, and the head of his wicked secretary, and the heads of several of his servants 
who had been foremost in carrying out his shameful orders, and were now 
accompanying him to the capital. 

They then divided the booty between them, and made off with all speed. Chias 
soul remained near his body for some time, until at length a high mandarin passing by 
asked [p. 313] who it was that was lying there dead. One of his servants replied that 
he had been a magistrate at such and such a place, and that his name was Pai. 
What! said the mandarin, the son of old Mr. Pai? It is hard that his father should 
live to see such sorrow as this. Put his head on again.6 Then a man stepped forward 
and placed Chias head upon his shoulders. again, when the mandarin interrupted 
him, saying, A crooked-minded man should not have a straight body: put his head on 
sideways. 

By-and-by Chias soul returned to its tenement.; and when his wife and 
children arrived to take away the corpse, they found that he was still breathing. 
Carrying him home, they poured some nourishment down his throat, which he was 
able to swallow; but there he was at an out-of-the-way place, without the means of 
continuing his journey. 

It was some six months before his father heard the real state of the case, and 
then he sent off the second son to bring his brother home. Chia had indeed come to 
life again, but he was able to see down his own back, and was regarded ever 
afterwards more as a monstrosity than as a man. Subsequently the nephew, whom old 
Mr. Pai had seen sitting in state surrounded by officials, actually became an Imperial 
Censor, so that every detail of the dream was thus strangely realised. 

 

1 Literally, had been allotted the post of Nan-fu magistrate, such 
appointments being always determined by drawing lots. 

2 Such is one common explanation of catalepsy (see No. I., note 5), it being 
further averred that the proper lictors of the Infernal Regions are unable to remain 
long in the light of the upper world. 

3 Upon a wall at the entrance to every official residence is painted a huge 
fabulous animal, called Greed, in such a position that the resident mandarin must see 
it every time he goes out of his front gates. It is to warn him against greed and the 
crimes that are sure to flow from it. 

4 Such, indeed, is the case at the present day in China, and elsewhere. 

5 See No. VII., note 1. 

6 The great sorrow of decapitation as opposed to strangulation is that the body 


will appear in the realms below without a head. The family of any condemned man 
who may have sufficient means always bribe the executioner to sew it on again. 

LXXIII. THE UNJUST SENTENCE 

MR. CHU was a native of Yang-ku, and, as a young man, was much given to 
playing tricks and talking in a loose kind of way. Having lost his wife, he went off to 
ask a certain old woman to arrange another match for him and on the way he chanced 
to fall in with a neighbours wife who took his fancy very much. So he said in joke to 
the old woman, Get me that stylish-looking, handsome lady, and I shall be quite 
satisfied. Ill see what I can do, replied the old woman, also joking, if you will 
manage to kill her present husband; upon which Chu laughed and said he certainly 
would do so. 

Now about [p. 314] a month afterwards, the said husband, who had gone out to 
collect some money due to him, was actually killed in a lonely spot; and the magistrate 
of the district immediately summoned the neighbours and beadle and held the usual 
inquest, but was unable to find any clue to the murderer. However, the old woman 
told the story of her conversation with Chu, and suspicion at once fell upon him. The 
constables came and arrested him; but he stoutly denied the charge; and the 
magistrate now began to suspect the wife of the murdered man. Accordingly, she was 
severely beaten and tortured in several ways until her strength failed her, and she 
falsely acknowledged her guilt.2 Chu was then examined, and he said, This delicate 
woman could not bear the agony of your tortures; what she has stated is untrue; and, 
even should her wrong escape the notice of the Gods, for her to die in this [p. 315] way 
with a stain upon her name is more than I can endure. I will tell the whole truth. I 
killed the husband that I might secure the wife: she knew nothing at all about it. And 
when the magistrate asked for some proof, Chu said his bloody clothes would be 
evidence enough; but when they sent to search his house, no bloody clothes were 
forthcoming. 

He was then beaten till he fainted; yet when he came round he still stuck to 
what he had said. It is my mother, cried he, who will not sign the death-warrant of 
her son. Let me go myself and I will get the clothes. So he was escorted by a guard to 
his home, and there he explained to his mother that whether she gave up or withheld 
the clothes, it was all the same; that in either case he would have to die, and it was 
better to die early than late. Thereupon his mother wept bitterly, and going into the 
bedroom, brought out, after a short delay, the required clothes, which were taken at 
once to the magistrates. There was now no doubt as to the truth of Chus story; and 
as nothing occurred to change the magistrates opinion, Chu was thrown into prison 
to await the day for his execution. 

Meanwhile, as the magistrate was one day inspecting his gaol, suddenly a man 
appeared in the hall, who glared at him fiercely and roared out, Dull-headed fool unfit 
to be the guardian of the peoples interests whereupon the crowd of servants 
standing round rushed forward to seize him, but with one sweep of his arms he laid 
them all flat on the ground. The magistrate was frightened out of his wits, and tried to 
escape, but the man cried out to him, I am one of Kuan Tis[3] lieutenants. If you 
move an inch you are lost. So the magistrate stood there, shaking from head to foot 
with fear, while his visitor continued, The murderer is Kung Piao: Chu had nothing to 
do with it. 


The lieutenant then fell down on the ground, and was to all appearance lifeless; 
however, after a while he recovered, his face having quite changed, and when they 
asked him his name, lo it was Kung Piao. Under the application of the bamboo he 
confessed his guilt. Always an unprincipled man, he had heard that the murdered 
man was going out to collect money, and thinking he would be sure to bring it back 
with him, he had killed him, but had [p. 316] found nothing. Then when he learnt that 
Chu acknowledged the crime as his own doing, he had rejoiced in secret at such a 
stroke of luck. How he had got into the magistrates hall he was quite unable to say. 
The magistrate now called for some explanation of Chus bloody clothes, which Chu 
himself was unable to give; but his mother, who was at once sent for, stated that she 
had cut her own arm to stain them, and when they examined her they found on her 
left arm the scar of a recent wound. The magistrate was lost in amazement at all this; 
unfortunately for him, the reversal of his sentence cost him his appointment, and he 
died in poverty, unable to find his way home. As for Chu, the widow of the murdered 
man married him[4] in the following year, out of gratitude for his noble behaviour. 

 

1 See No. LXIV., note 2. 

2 Such has, doubtless, been the occasional result of torture in China; but the 
singular keenness of the mandarins, as a body, in recognising the innocent and 
detecting the guilty,that is, when their own avaricious interests are not involved,
makes this contingency so rare as to be almost unknown. A good instance came under 
my own notice at Swatow in 1876. For years a Chinese servant had been employed at 
the foreign Custom House to carry a certain sum of money every week to the bank, 
and at length his honesty was above suspicion. On the occasion to which I allude he 
had been sent as usual with the bag of dollars, but after a short absence he rushed 
back with a frightful gash on his right arm, evidently inflicted by a heavy chopper, and 
laying the bone bare. The money was gone. He said he had been invited into a tea-
house by a couple of soldiers whom he could point out; that they had tried to wrest 
the bag from him, and that at length one of them seized a chopper and inflicted so 
severe a wound on his arm, that in his agony he dropped the money, and the soldiers 
made off with it. The latter were promptly arrested and confronted with their accuser; 
but, with almost indecent haste, the police magistrate dismissed the case against 
them, and declared that he believed the man had made away with the money and 
inflicted the wound on himself. And so it turned out to be, under overwhelming 
evidence. This servant of proved fidelity had given way to a rash hope of making a little 
money at the gaming-table; had hurried into one of these hells and lost everything in 
three stakes; had wounded himself on the right arm (he was a left-handed man), and 
had concocted the story of the soldiers, all within the space of about twenty-five 
minutes. When he saw that he was detected, he confessed everything, without having 
received a single blow of the bamboo; but up to the moment of his confession the 
foreign feeling against that police-magistrate was undeniably strong. 

3 See No. I., note 4. 

4 See No. LXVIII., note 1. The circumstances which led to this marriage would 
certainly be considered exceptional. 

LXXIV. A RIP VAN WINKLE[1] 

[THE story runs that a Mr. Chia, after obtaining, with the assistance of a 


mysterious friend, his masters degree, became alive to the vanity of mere earthly 
honours, and determined to devote himself to the practice of Taoism, in the hope of 
obtaining the elixir of immortality.2] 

So early one morning Chia and his friend, whose name was Lang, stole away 
together, without letting Chias family know anything about it; and by-and-by they 
found themselves among the hills, in a vast cave where there was another world and 
another sky. An old man was sitting there in great state, and Lang presented Chia to 
him as his future master. Why have you come so soon? asked the old man; to which 
Lang replied, My friends determination is firmly fixed: I pray you receive him amongst 
you. Since you have come, said the old man, turning to Chia, you must begin by 
putting away from you your earthly body. Chia murmured his assent, and was then 
escorted by Lang to a sleeping-chamber, where he was provided with food, after which 
Lang went away. [p. 317] The room was beautifully clean:[3] the doors had no panels 
and the windows no lattices; and all the furniture was one table and one couch. Chia 
took off his shoes and lay down, with the moon shining brightly into the room; and 
beginning soon to feel hungry, he tried one of the cakes on the table, which he found 
sweet and very satisfying. He thought Lang would be sure to come back, but there he 
remained hour after hour by himself, never hearing a sound. He noticed, however, that 
the room was fragrant with a delicious perfume; his viscera seemed to be removed 
from his body, by which his intellectual faculties were much increased; and every one 
of his veins and arteries could be easily counted. 

Then suddenly he heard a sound like that of a cat scratching itself; and, looking 
out of the window, he beheld a tiger sitting under the verandah. He was horribly 
frightened for the moment, but immediately recalling the admonition of the old man, 
he collected himself and sat quietly down again. The tiger seemed to know that there 
was a man inside, for it entered the room directly afterwards, and walking straight up 
to the couch sniffed at Chias feet. Whereupon there was a noise outside, as if a fowl 
were having its legs tied, and the tiger ran away. 

Shortly afterwards a beautiful young girl came in, suffusing an exquisite 
fragrance around; and going up to the couch where Chia was, she bent over him and 
whispered, Here I am. Her breath was like the sweet odour of perfumes; but as Chia 
did not move, she whispered again, Are you sleeping? The voice sounded to Chia 
remarkably like that of his wife; however, he reflected that these were all probably 
nothing more than tests of his determination, so he closed his eyes firmly for a while. 
But by-and-by the young lady called him by his pet name, and then he opened his 
eyes wide to discover that she was no other than his own wife. On asking her how she 
had come there, she replied that Mr. Lang was afraid her husband would be lonely, 
and had sent an old woman to guide her to him. Just then they heard the old man 
outside in a towering rage, and Chias wife, not knowing where to conceal herself, 
jumped over a low wall near by and disappeared. 

In came the old man, and gave Lang a severe beating before [p. 318] Chias face, 
bidding him at once to get rid of his visitor; so Lang led Chia away over the low wall, 
saying, Because I entertained extravagant hopes of you, I made the mistake of too 
hastily introducing you; but now I see that your time has not yet come: hence this 
beating I have had. Good-bye: we shall meet again some day. He then showed Chia 
the way to his home, and waving his hand bade him farewell. Chia looked downfor 
he was in the moonand beheld the old familiar village; and recollecting that his wife 
was not a good walker and would not have got very far, hurried on to overtake her. 


Before long he was at his own door, but he noticed that the place was all 
tumble-down and in ruins, and not as it was when he went away. As for the people he 
saw, old and young alike, he did not recognise one of them; and recollecting the story 
of how Liu and Yan came back from heaven,4 he was afraid to go in at the door. So 
he sat down and rested outside; and after a while an old man leaning on a staff came 
out, whereupon Chia asked him which was the house of Mr. Chia. This is it, replied 
the old man; you probably wish to hear the extraordinary story connected with the 
family? I know all about it. They say that Mr. Chia ran away just after he had taken 
his masters degree, when his son was only seven or eight years old; and that about 
seven years afterwards the childs mother went into a deep sleep from which she did 
not awake. As long as her son was alive he changed his mothers clothes for her 
according to the seasons, but when he died, her grandsons fell into poverty, and had 
nothing but an old shanty to put the sleeping lady into. Last month she awaked, 
having been asleep for over a hundred years. People from far and near have been 
coming in great numbers to hear the strange story; of late, however, there have been 
rather fewer. Chia was amazed when he heard all this, and, turning to the old man, 
said, I am Chia Feng-chili. 

This astonished the [p. 319] old man very much, and off he went to make the 
announcement to Chias family. The eldest grandson was dead; and the second, a man 
of about fifty, refused to believe that such a young-looking man was really his 
grandfather; but in a few moments out came Chias wife, and she recognised her 
husband at once. They then fell upon each others necks and mingled their tears 
together. 

[After which the story is drawn out to a considerable length, but is quite devoid 
of interest.]5 

 

1 This being a long and tedious story, I have given only such part of it as is 
remarkable for its similarity to Washington Irvings famous narrative. 

2 See No. IV., note 1. 

3 Borrowed from Buddhism. 

4 Alluding to a similar story, related in the Record of the Immortals, of how these 
two friends lost their way while gathering simples on the hills, and were met and 
entertained by two lovely young damsels for the space of half-a-year. When, however, 
they subsequently returned home, they found that ten generations had passed away. 

5 Besides the above, there is the story of a man named Wang, who, wandering 
one day in the mountains, came upon some old men playing a game of wei-chi; and 
after watching them for some time, he found that the handle of an axe he had with 
him had mouldered away into dust. Seven generations of men had passed away in the 
interval. Also, a similar legend of a horseman, who, when riding over the hills, saw 
several old men playing a game with rushes, and tied his-horse to a tree while he 
himself approached to observe them. A few minutes afterwards he turned to depart, 
but found only the skeleton of his horse and the rotten remnants of the saddle and 
bridle. He then sought his home, but that was gone too; and so he laid himself down 
upon the ground and died of a broken heart. 


LXXV. THE THREE STATES OF EXISTENCE 

A CERTAIN man of the province of Hunan could recall what had happened to 
him in three previous lives. ln the first, he was a magistrate; and, on one occasion, 
when he had been nominated Assistant-Examiner, a candidate, named Hsing, was 
unsuccessful. Hsing went home dreadfully mortified, and soon after died; but his 
spirit appeared before the King of Purgatory, and read aloud the rejected essay, 
whereupon thousands of other shades, all of whom had suffered in a similar way, 
thronged around, and unanimously elected Hsing as their chief. The Examiner was 
immediately summoned to take his trial, and when he arrived the King asked him, 
saying, As you are appointed to examine the various essays, how is it that you throw 
out the able and admit the worthless? Sire, replied he, the ultimate decision rests 
with the Grand Examiner; I only pass them on to him. The King then issued a 
warrant for the apprehension of the Grand Examiner, and as soon as he appeared, he 
was told what had just now [p. 320] been said against him; to which he answered, I 
am only able to make a general estimate of the merits of the candidates. Valuable 
essays may be kept back from me by my Associate-Examiners, in which case I am 
powerless. But the King cried out, Its all very well for you two thus to throw the 
blame on each other; you are both guilty, and both of you must be bambooed 
according to law. This sentence was about to be carried into effect, when Hsing, who 
was not at all satisfied with its lack of severity, set up such a fearful screeching and 
howling, in which he was well supported by all the other hundreds and thousands of 
shades, that the King stopped short, and inquired what was the matter. Thereupon 
Hsing informed His Majesty that the sentence was too light, and that the Examiners 
should both have their eyes gouged out, so as not to be able to read essays any more. 
The King would not consent to this, explaining to the noisy rabble that the Examiners 
did not purposely reject good essays, but only because they themselves were naturally 
wanting in capacity. 

The shades then begged that, at any rate, their hearts might be cut out, and to 
this the King was obliged to yield; so the Examiners were seized by the attendants, 
their garments stripped off, and their bodies ripped open with sharp knives. The blood 
poured out on the ground, and the victims screamed with pain; at which all the 
shades rejoiced exceedingly, and said, Here we have been pent [p. 321] up, with no 
one to redress our wrongs; but now Mr. Hsing has come, our injuries are washed 
away. They then dispersed with great noise and hubbub. 

As for our Associate-Examiner, after his heart had been cut out, he came to life 
again as the son of a poor man in Shensi; and when he was twenty years old he fell 
into the hands of the rebels, who were at that time giving great trouble to the country. 
By-and-by, a certain official was sent at the head of some soldiers to put down the 
insurrection, and he succeeded in capturing a large number of the rebels, among 
whom was our hero. The latter reflected that he himself was no rebel, and he was 
hoping that he would be able to obtain his release in consequence, when he noticed 
that the officer in charge was also a man of his own age, and, on looking more closely, 
he saw that it was his old: enemy, Hsing. Alas cried he, such is destiny; and so 
indeed it turned out, for all the other prisoners were forthwith released, and he alone 
was beheaded. 

Once more his spirit stood before the King of Purgatory, this time with an 
accusation against Hsing. The King, however, would not summon Hsing at once, but 


said he should be allowed to complete his term of official life on earth; and it was not 
till thirty years afterwards that Hsing appeared to answer to the charge. Then, because 
he had made light of the lives of his people, he was condemned to be born again as a 
brute-beast; and our hero, too, inasmuch as he had been known to beat his father and 
mother, was sentenced to a similar fate. The latter, fearing the future vengeance of 
Hsing, persuaded the King to give him the advantage of size; and, accordingly, orders 
were issued that he was to be born again as a big, and Hsing as a little, dog. The big 
dog came to life in a shop in Shun-tien Fu, and was one day lying down in the street, 
when a trader from the south arrived, bringing with him a little golden-haired dog, 
about the size of a wild cat, which, lo and behold turned out to be Hsing. The other, 
thinking Hsings size would render him an easy prey, seized him at once; but the little 
one caught him from underneath by the throat, and hung there firmly, like a bell. The 
big dog tried hard to shake him off, and the people of the shop did their best to 
separate them, but all was of no avail, and in a few moments both dogs were dead. 

Upon their spirits presenting themselves, [p. 322] as usual, before the King, 
each with its grievance against the other, the King cried out, When will ye have done 
with your wrongs and your animosities? I will now settle the matter finally for you; 
and immediately commanded that Hsing should become the others son-in-law in the 
next world. 

The latter was then born at Ching-yn, and when he was twenty-eight years of 
age took his masters degree. He had one daughter, a very pretty girl, whom many of 
his wealthy neighbours would have been glad to get for their sons; but he would not 
accept any of their offers. On one occasion he happened to pass through the 
prefectural city, just as the examination for bachelors degree was over; and the 
candidate who had come out at the top of the list, though named Li, was no other than 
Mr. Hsing. So he led this man away, and took him to an inn, where he treated him 
with the utmost cordiality, finally arranging that, as Mr. Li was still unmarried, he 
should marry his pretty daughter. Every one, of course, thought that this was done in 
admiration of Lis talents, ignorant that destiny had already decreed the union of the 
young couple. 

No sooner were they married than Li, proud of his own literary achievements, 
began to slight his father-in-law, and often passed many months without going near 
him; all of which the father-in-law bore very patiently, and when, at length, Li had 
repeatedly failed to get on any farther in his career, he even went so far as to set to 
work, by all manner of means, to secure his success; after which they lived happily 
together as father and son. 

 

1 If there is one institution in the Chinese Empire which is jealously guarded 
and honestly administered, it is the great system of competitive examinations which 
has obtained. in China now for many centuries. And yet frauds do take place, in spite 
of the exceptionally heavy penalties incurred upon detection. Friends are occasionally 
smuggled through by the aid of marked essays; and dishonest candidates avail 
themselves of sleeve editions, as they are called, of the books in which they are to be 
examined. On the whole, the result is a successful one. As a rule, the best candidates 
pull through; while, in exceptional cases, unquestionably good men are rejected. Of 
the latter class, the author of this work [Pu Sung-Ling] is a most striking instance. 
Excelling in literary attainments of the highest order, he failed more than once to 


obtain his masters degree, and finally threw up in disgust. Thenceforward he became 
the enemy of the mandarinate; and how he has lashed the corruption of his age may 
be read in such stories as The Wolf Dream, and many others, while the policy that he 
himself would have adopted, had he been fortunate enough to succeed, must remain 
for ever a matter of doubt and speculation. 

LXXVI. IN THE INFERNAL REGIONS 

HSI FANG-PING was a native of Tung-an. His fathers name was Hsi Liena 
hasty-tempered man, who had quarrelled with a neighbour named Yang. By-and-by 
Yang died; and some years afterwards, when Lien was on his death-bed, he cried out 
that Yang was bribing the devils in hell to torture him. His body then swelled up and 
turned red, and in a few moments he had breathed his last. His son wept bitterly and 
refused all food, saying, Alas! my poor father is now being maltreated by cruel devils; 
I must go down and help to redress his wrongs. 

Thereupon he ceased speaking, and sat for a long time like [p. 323] one dazed, 
his soul having already quitted its tenement of clay. To himself he appeared to be 
outside the house, not knowing in what direction to go, so he inquired from one of the 
passers-by which was the way to the district city.l Before long he found himself there, 
and, directing his steps towards the prison, found his father lying outside[2] in a very 
shocking state. When the latter beheld his son, he burst into tears, and declared that 
the gaolers had been bribed to beat him, which they did both day and night, until they 
had reduced him to his present sorry plight. Then Fang-Ping turned round in a great 
rage, and began to curse the gaolers. Out upon you! cried he; if my father is guilty 
he should be punished according to law, and not at the will of a set of scoundrels like 
you. 

Thereupon he hurried away, and prepared a petition, which he took with him to 
present at the morning session of the City God; but his enemy, Yang, had meanwhile 
set to work, and bribed so effectually, that the City God dismissed his petition for want 
of corroborative evidence.3 

Fang-ping was furious, but could do nothing; so he started at once for the 
prefectural city, where he managed to get his plaint received, though it was nearly a 
month before it came on for hearing, and then all he got was a reference back to the 
district city, where he was severely tortured, and escorted back to the door of his own 
home, for fear he should give further trouble. 

However, he did not go in, but stole away and proceeded to lay his complaint 
before one of the ten Judges of Purgatory; whereupon the two mandarins who had 
previously ill-used him, came forward and secretly offered him a thousand ounces of 
silver if he would withdraw the charge. This he positively refused to do; and some days 
subsequently the landlord of the inn, where he was staying, told him he had been a 
fool for his pains, and that he would now get neither money nor justice, the judge 
himself having already been tampered with. [p. 324] 

Fang-ping thought this was mere gossip, and would not believe it; but, when 
his case was called, the Judge utterly refused to hear the charge, and ordered him 
twenty blows with the bamboo, which were administered in spite of all his 
protestations. He then cried out, Ah!its all because I have no money to give you; 
which so incensed the Judge, that he told the lictors to throw Fang-ping on the fire-
bed. This was a great iron couch, with a roaring fire underneath, which made it red-


hot; and upon that the devils cast Fang-ping, having first stripped off his clothes, 
pressing him down on it, until the fire ate into his very bones, though in spite of that 
he could not die. After a while the devils said he had had enough, and made him get 
off the iron bed, and put his clothes on again. 

He was just able to walk, and when he went back into court, the judge asked 
him if he wanted to make any further complaints. Alas! cried he, my wrongs are still 
unredressed, and I should only be lying were I to say I would complain no more. The 
Judge then inquired what he had to complain of; to which Fang-Ong replied that it 
was of the injustice of his recent punishment. This enraged the Judge so much that he 
ordered his attendants to saw Fang-ping in two. He was then led away by devils, to a 
place where he was thrust in between a couple of wooden boards, the ground on all 
sides being wet and sticky with blood. 

Just at that moment he was summoned to return before the Judge, who asked 
him if he was still of the same mind; and, on his replying in the affirmative, he was 
taken back again, and bound between the two boards. The saw was then applied, and 
as it went through his brain he experienced the most cruel agonies, which, however, 
he managed to endure without uttering a cry. Hes a tough customer, said one of the 
devils, as the saw made its way gradually through his chest; to which the other replied, 
Truly, this is filial piety; and, as the poor fellow has done nothing, let us turn the saw 
a little out of the direct line, so as to avoid injuring his heart. Fang-ping then felt the 
saw make a curve inside him, which caused him even more pain than before; and, in a 
few moments, he was cut through right down to the ground, and the two halves of his 
body fell apart, along with the boards to which they were tied, one on either side. The 
devils went back to report progress, and were then ordered to join Fang-ping [p. 325] 
together again, and bring him in. 

This they accordingly did,--the cut all down Fang-pings body hurting him 
dreadfully, and feeling as if it would re-open every minute. But, as Fang-ping was 
unable to walk, one of the devils took out a cord and tied it round his waist, as a 
reward, he said, for his filial piety. The pain immediately ceased, and Fang-ping 
appeared once more before the Judge, this time promising that he would make no 
more complaints. The judge now gave orders that he should be sent up to earth, and 
the devils, escorting him out of the north gate of the city, showed him his way home, 
and went away. 

Fang-ping now saw that there was even less chance of securing justice in the 
Infernal Regions than upon the earth above; and, having no means of getting at the 
Great King to plead his case, he bethought himself of a certain upright and benevolent 
God, called Erh Lang, who was a relative of the Great Kings, and him he determined 
to seek. So he turned about and took his way southwards, but was immediately seized 
by some devils, sent out by the judge to watch that he really went back to his home. 
These devils hurried him again into the Judges presence, where he was received, 
contrary to his expectation, with great affability; the judge himself praising his filial 
piety, but declaring that he need trouble no further in the matter, as his father had 
already been born again in a wealthy and illustrious family. And upon you, added 
the judge, I now bestow a present of one thousand ounces of silver to take home with 
you, as well as the old age of a centenarian, with which I hope you will be satisfied. 
He then showed Fang-ping the stamped record of this, and sent him away in charge of 
the devils. The latter now began to abuse him for giving them so much trouble, but 
Fang-ping turned sharply upon them, and threatened to take them back before the 


Judge. 

They were then silent, and marched along for about half-a-day, until at length 
they reached a village, where the devils invited Fang-ping into a house, the door of 
which was standing half-open. Fang-ping was just going in, when suddenly the devils 
gave him a shove from behind, and . . .] there he was, born again on earth as a little 
girl. For three days he pined and cried, without taking any food, and then he died. 

But his spirit did not forget Erh Lang, and set out at once in search of that God. 
He had not gone far when he fell [p. 326] in with the retinue of some high personage, 
and one of the attendants seized him for getting in the way, and hurried him before 
his master. He was taken to a chariot, where he saw a handsome young man, sitting 
in great state; and thinking that now was his chance, he told the young man, who he 
imagined to be a high mandarin, all his sad story from beginning to end. His bonds 
were then loosed, and he went along with the young man until they reached a place 
where several officials came out to receive them; and to one of these he confided Fang-
ping, who now learnt that the young man was no other than God himself, the officials 
being the nine princes of heaven and the one to whose care he was entrusted no other 
than Erh Lang. This last was very tall, and had a long white beard, not at all like the 
popular representation of a God and when the other princes had gone, he took Fang-
ping into a court-room, where he saw his father and their old enemy, Yang, besides all 
the lictors and others who had been mixed up in the case. 

By-and-by, some criminals were brought in in cages, and these turned out to be 
the Judge, Prefect, and Magistrate. The trial was then commenced, the three wicked 
officers trembling and shaking in their shoes; and when he had heard the evidence, 
Erh Lang proceeded to pass sentence upon the prisoners, each of whom he sentenced, 
after enlarging upon the enormity of their several crimes, to be roasted, boiled, and 
otherwise put to most excruciating tortures. As for Fang-ping, he accorded him three 
extra decades of life, as a reward for his filial piety, and a copy of the sentence was put 
in his pocket. Father and son journeyed along together, and at length reached their 
home; that is to say, Fang-ping was the first to recover consciousness, and then bade 
the servants open his fathers coffin, which they immediately did, and the old man at 
once came back to life. But when Fang-ping looked for his copy of the sentence, lo! it 
had disappeared. 

As for the Yang family, poverty soon overtook them, and all their lands passed 
into Fang-pings hands; for as sure as any one else bought them, they became sterile 
forthwith, and would produce nothing; but Fang-ping and his father lived on happily, 
both reaching the age of ninety and odd years.4 

 

1 The Infernal Regions are supposed to be pretty much a counter-part of the 
world above, except in the matter of light. 

2 The visitor to Canton cannot fail to observe batches of prisoners with chains 
on them sitting in the street outside the prisons, many of them engaged in plying their 
particular trades. 

3 The judge in a Chinese court is necessarily very much dependent on his 
secretaries; and, except in special cases, he takes his cue almost entirely from them. 
They take theirs from whichever party to the case knows best how to cross the palm. 

4 The whole story is of course simply a satire upon the venality and injustice of 


the ruling classes in China. [p. 327] 

LXXVII. SINGULAR CASE OF OPHTHALMIA 

A MR. Ku, of Chiang-non, was stopping in an inn at Chi-hsia, when he was 
attacked by a very severe inflammation of the eyes. Day and night he lay on his bed 
groaning, no medicines being of any avail; and when he did get a little better, his 
recovery was accompanied by a singular phenomenon. Every time he closed his eyes, 
he beheld in front of him a number of large buildings, with all their doors wide open, 
and people passing and repassing in the background, none of whom he recognised by 
sight. 

One day he had just sat down to have a good look, when, all of a sudden, he felt 
himself passing through the open doors. He went on through three court-yards 
without meeting any one; but, on looking into some rooms on either side, he saw a 
great number of young girls sitting, lying, and kneeling about on a red carpet, which 
was spread on the ground. just then a man came out from behind the building, and, 
seeing Ku, said to him, Ah, the Prince said there was a stranger at the door; I 
suppose you are the person he meant. He then asked Ku to walk in, which the latter 
was at first unwilling to do; however, he yielded to the mans instances, and 
accompanied him in, asking whose palace it was. His guide told him it belonged to the 
son of the Ninth Prince, and that he had arrived at the nick of time, for a number of 
friends and relatives had chosen this very day to come and congratulate the young 
gentleman on his recent recovery from a severe illness. 

Meanwhile another person had come out to hurry them on, and they soon 
reached a spot where there was a pavilion facing the north, with an ornamental 
terrace and red balustrades, supported by nine pillars. Ascending the steps, they 
found the place full of visitors, and then espied a young man seated with his face to 
the north,l whom they at once knew to be the Princes son, and thereupon they 
prostrated themselves before him, the whole company rising as they did so. [p. 328] 
The young Prince made Ku sit down to the east of him, and caused wine to be served; 
after which some singing-girls came in and performed the Hua-fng-chu.[2] They had 
got to about the third scene, when, all of a sudden, Ku heard the landlord of the inn 
and his servant shouting out to him that dinner was ready, and was dreadfully afraid 
that the young Prince, too, had heard. No one, however, seemed to have noticed 
anything, so Ku begged to be excused a moment, as he wished to change his clothes, 
and immediately ran out. He then looked up, and saw the sun low in the west, and his 
servant standing by his bedside, whereupon he knew that he had and left the inn. He 
was much chagrined at this, and wished to go back as fast as he could; he, therefore, 
dismissed his servant, and on shutting his eyes once more, he found everything just 
as he had left it, except that where, on the first occasion, he had observed the young 
girls, there were none now to be seen, but only some dishevelled hump-backed 
creatures, who cried out at him, and asked him what he meant by spying about there. 
Ku didnt dare reply, but hurried past them as quickly as he could, and on to the 
pavilion of the young Prince. There he found him still sitting, but with a black beard 
over a foot in length; and the Prince was anxious to know where he had been, saying 
that seven scenes of the play were already over. He then seized a big goblet of wine, 
and made Ku drink it as a penalty, by which time the play was finished, and the list 
was handed up for a further selection. 


The Marriage of Feng Tsu was selected, and then the singing-girls began to 
hand round the wine in cocoa-nuts big enough to hold about five quarts, which Ku 
declined, on the ground that he was suffering from weak eyes, and was consequently 
afraid to drink too much. If your eyes are bad, cried the young Prince, the Court 
physician is at hand, and can attend to you. Thereupon, one of the guests sitting to 
the east came forward, and, opening Kus eyes with his fingers, touched them with 
some white ointment, which he applied from the end of a jade pin. He then bade Ku 
close his eyes, and take a short nap so the Prince had him conducted into a sleeping-
room, where he found the bed so soft, and surrounded by such [p. 329] delicious 
perfume, that he soon fell into a deep slumber. 

By-and-by he was awaked by what appeared to be the clashing of cymbals, and 
fancied that the play was still going on; but on opening his eyes, he saw that it was 
only the inn-dog, which was licking an oilmans gong.3 His ophthalmia, however, was 
quite cured; and when he shut his eyes again he could see nothing. 

 

1 In Book V. of Mencius works we read that Shun, the perfect man, stood with 
his face to the south, while the Emperor Yao (see No. VIII., note 3) and his nobles 
faced the north. This arrangement is said to have been adopted in deference to Shuns 
virtue; for in modern times the Emperor always sits facing the south. 

2 Name of a celebrated play. 

3 These are about as big as a cheese-plate and attached to a short stick, from 
which hangs suspended a small button of metal in such a manner as to clash against 
the face of the gong at every turn of the hand. The names and descriptions of various 
instruments employed by costermongers in China would fill a good-sized volume. 

LXXVIII. CHOU KO-CHANG AND HIS GHOST 

AT Huai-shang there lived a graduate named Chou Tien-i, who, though fifty 
years of age, had but one son, called Ko-chang, whom he loved very dearly. This boy, 
when about thirteen or fourteen, was a handsome, well-favoured fellow, strangely 
averse to study, and often playing truant from school, sometimes for the whole day, 
without any remonstrance on the part of his father. 

One day he went away and did not come back in the evening; neither, after a 
diligent search, could any traces of him be discovered. His father and mother were in 
despair, and hardly cared to live; but after a year and more had passed away, lo and 
behold! Ko-chang returned, saying that he had been beguiled away by a Taoist priest, 
who, however, had not done him any harm, and that he had seized a moment while 
the priest was absent to escape and find his way home again. 

His father was delighted, and asked him no more questions, but set to work to 
give him an education; and Ko-chang was so much cleverer and more intelligent than 
he had been before, that by the following year he had taken his bachelors degree and 
made quite a name for himself. Immediately all the good families of the neighbourhood 
wanted to secure him as a son-in-law. Among others proposed there was an extremely 
nice girl, the daughter of a gentleman named Chao, who had taken his doctors degree, 
and Ko-changs father was very anxious that he should marry the young [p. 330] lady. 
The youth himself would not hear of it, but stuck to his books and took his masters 
degree, quite refusing to entertain any thought of marriage; and this so exasperated 


his mother that one day the good lady began to rate him soundly. Ko-chang got up in 
a great rage and cried out, I have long been wanting to get away, and have only 
remained for your sakes. I shall now say farewell, and leave Miss Chao for any one 
that likes to marry her. At this his mother tried to detain him, but in a moment he 
had fallen forwards on the ground, and there was nothing left of him but his hat and 
clothes. 

They were all dreadfully frightened, thinking that it must have been Ko-changs 
ghost who had been with them, and gave themselves up to weeping and lamentation; 
however, the very next day Ko-chang arrived, accompanied by a retinue of horses and 
servants, his story being that he had formerly been kidnapped and sold to a wealthy 
trader, who, being then childless, had adopted him, but who, when he subsequently 
had a son born to him by his own wife, sent Ko-chang back to his old home. And as 
soon as his father began to question him as to his studies, his utter dullness and want 
of knowledge soon made it clear that he was the real Ko-chang of old; but he was 
already known as a man who had got his masters degree (that is, the ghost of him 
had got it), so it was determined in the family to keep the whole affair secret. 

This Ko-chang was only too ready to espouse Miss Chao; and before a year had 
passed over their heads his wife had presented the old people with the much-longed-
for grandson. 

 

1 See No. XXIII., note 10. 

LXXIX. THE SPIRITS OF THE PO-YANG LAKE 

AN official, named Chai, was appointed to a post at Jao-chou, and on his way 
thither crossed the Po-yang lake. Happening to visit the shrine of the local spirits, he 
noticed a carved image of the patriotic Ting Fu-lang,l and another [p. 331] of a 
namesake of his own, the latter occupying a very inferior position. Come! come! said 
Chai, my patron saint shant be put in the background like that; so he moved the 
image into a more honourable place, and then went back on board his boat again. 

Soon after, a great wind struck the vessel, and carried away the mast and sails; 
at which the sailors, in great alarm, set to work to howl and cry. However, in a few 
moments they saw a small skiff come cutting through the waves, and before long they 
were all safely on board. The man who towed it was strangely like the image in the 
shrine, the position of which Chai had changed; but they were hardly out of danger 
when the squall had passed over, and skiff and man had both vanished. 

1 A famous soldier, who distinguished himself at the battle of Po-yang, A.D. 
1363. Even when his head had been taken off, he still grasped his sword and 
remained standing in an attitude of attack. 

LXXX. THE STREAM OF CASH 

A CERTAIN gentlemans servant was one day in his masters garden, when he 
beheld a stream of cash[1] flowing by, two or three feet in breadth and of about the 
same depth. He immediately seized two large handfuls, and then threw himself down 
on the top of the stream in order to try and secure the rest. However, when he got up 
he found that it had all flowed away from under him, none being left except what he 


had got in his two hands. 

[ Ah! says the commentator, money is properly a circulating medium, and is 
not intended for a man to lie upon and keep all to himself.]2 

 

1 See No. II., note 2. 

2 The Chinese, fond as they are of introducing water, under the form of 
miniature lakes, into their gardens and pleasure-grounds, do not approve of a running 
stream near the dwelling-house. I myself knew a case of a man, provided with a pretty 
little house, rent-free, alongside of which ran a mountain rill, who left the place and 
paid for lodgings out of his own pocket rather than live so close to a stream which he 
averred carried all his good luck away. Yet this man was a fair scholar and a graduate 
to boot. 

LXXXI. THE INJUSTICE OF HEAVEN 

MR. HS was a magistrate in Shantung. A certain upper chamber of his house 
was used as a store-room; but some creature managed so frequently to get in and 
make havoc among the stores, for which the servants were always being scolded, that 
at length some of the latter determined to keep watch. By-and-by they saw a huge 
spider as big as a peck measure, and hurried off to tell their master, who thought it so 
strange that he gave orders to the servants to feed the insect with cakes. It thus 
became very tame, and would always come forth when hungry, returning as soon as it 
had taken enough to eat.1 

Years passed away, and one day Mr. Hs was consulting his archives, when 
suddenly the spider appeared and ran under the table. Thinking it was hungry, he 
bade his servants give it a cake; but the next moment he noticed two snakes, of about 
the thickness of a chop-stick, lying one on each side. The spider drew in its legs as if 
in mortal fear, and the snakes began to swell out until they were as big round as an 
egg; at which Mr. Hs was greatly alarmed, and would have hurried away, when crash! 
went a peal of thunder, killing every person in the house. Mr. Hs himself recovered 
consciousness after a little while, but only to see his wife and servants, seven persons 
in all, lying dead; and after a months illness he, too, departed this life. Now Mr. Hs 
was an upright, honourable man, who really had the interests of the people at heart. A 
subscription was accordingly raised to pay his funeral expenses, and on the day of his 
burial the air was rent for miles round with cries of weeping and lamentation. 

[Hereon the author makes the following remark:That dragons play with 
pearls[2] I have always regarded as an old womans tale. Is it possible, then, that the 
story [p. 333] is a fact? I have heard, too, that the thunder strikes only the guilty man; 
and, if so, how could a virtuous official be visited with this dire calamity? Are not the 
inconsistencies of God Almighty many indeed?] 

 

1 That Chinaman thinks his a hard lot who cannot eat till he is full. It may be 
noticed here that the Chinese seem not so much to enjoy the process of eating, as the 
subsequent state of repletion. As a rule, they bolt their food, and get their enjoyment 
out of it afterwards. 

2 The disc, spoken of as a pearl, which is often figured between two dragons, is 


really the symbol of thunder rolling. 

LXXXII. THE SEA-SERPENT 

A TRADER named Chia was voyaging on the south seas, when one night it 
suddenly became as light as day on board his ship. Jumping up to see what was the 
matter, he beheld a huge creature with its body half out of the water, towering up like 
a hill. Its eyes resembled two suns, and threw a light far and wide; and when the 
trader asked the boatmen what it was, there was not one who could say. They all 
crouched down and watched it; and by-and-by the monster gradually disappeared in 
the water again, leaving everything in darkness as before. And when they reached port, 
they found all the people talking about a strange phenomenon of a great light that had 
appeared in the night, the time of which coincided exactly with the strange scene they 
themselves had witnessed.l 

 

1 The sea-serpent in this case was probably nothing more or less than some 
meteoric phenomenon. 

LXXXII. THE MAGIC MIRROR[1] 

 . . . BUT if you would really like to have something that has belonged to me, 
said she, you shall. Whereupon she took out a mirror and gave it to him, saying, 
Whenever you want to see me, you must look for me in your books; otherwise I shall 
not be visible;and in a moment she had vanished. Liu went home very melancholy 
at heart; but when he looked in the mirror, there [p. 334] was Fng-hsien, standing 
with her back to him, gazing, as it were, at some one who was going away, and about 
a hundred paces from her. He then bethought himself of her injunctions, and settled 
down to his studies, refusing to receive any visitors; and a few days subsequently, 
when he happened to look in the mirror, there was Fng-hsien, with her face turned 
towards him, and smiling in every feature. After this, he was always taking out the 
mirror to look at her; however, in about a month his good resolutions began to 
disappear, and he once more went out to enjoy himself and waste his time as before. 
When he returned home and looked in the mirror, Fng-hsien seemed to be crying 
bitterly; and the day after, when he looked at her again, she had her back turned 
towards him as on the day he received the mirror. He now knew that it was because 
he had neglected his studies, and forthwith set to work again with all diligence, until 
in a months time she had turned round once again. 

Henceforward, whenever anything interrupted his progress, Fng-hsiens 
countenance became sad; but whenever he was getting on well, her sadness was 
changed to smiles. Night and morning Liu would look at the mirror, regarding it quite 
in the light of a revered preceptor; and in three years time he took his degree in 
triumph. Now; cried he, I shall be able to look Fng-hsien in the face. And there, 
sure. enough, she was, with her delicately-pencilled arched eyebrows, and her teeth 
just showing between her lips, as happy-looking as she could be, when, all of a 
sudden, she seemed to speak, and Liu heard her say, A pretty pair we make, I must 
allowand the next moment Fng-hsien stood by his side. 

 

1 The following is merely a single episode taken from a long and otherwise 


uninteresting story. Miss Fng-hsien was a fox; hence her power to bestow such a 
singular present as the mirror here described, the object of which was to incite her 
lover to successthe condition of their future union. 

LXXXIV. COURAGE TESTED 

MR. TUNG was a Hs-chou man, very fond of playing broad-sword, and a light-
hearted, devil-may-care fellow, who was often involving himself in trouble. One day he 
fell in with a traveller who was riding on a mule and going the same way as himself; 
whereupon they entered into conversation, and began to talk to each other about [p. 
335] feats of strength and so on. The traveller said his name was Tung,1 and that he 
belonged to Liao-yang; that he had been twenty years away from home, and had just 
returned from beyond the sea. And I venture to say, cried Tung, that in your 
wanderings on the Four Seas[2] you have seen a great many people; but have you seen 
any supernaturally clever ones? Tung asked him to what he alluded; and then Tung 
explained what his own particular hobby was, adding how much he would like to learn 
from them any tricks in the art of broad-sword. Supernaturals, replied the traveller, 
are to be found everywhere. It needs but that a man should be a loyal subject and a 
filial son for him to know all that the supernaturals know. Right you are, indeed! 
cried Tung, as he drew a short sword from his belt, and, tapping the blade with his 
fingers, began to accompany it with a song. He then cut down a tree that was by the 
wayside, to show Tung how sharp it was; at which Tung smoothed his beard and 
smiled, begging to be allowed to have a look at the weapon. Tung handed it to him, 
and, when he had turned it over two or three times, he said, This is a very inferior 
piece of steel; now, though I know nothing about broad-sword myself, I have a weapon 
which is really of some use. He then drew from beneath his coat a sword, a foot or so 
in length, and with it he began to pare pieces off Tungs sword, which seemed as soft 
as a melon, and which he cut quite away like a horses hoof. Tung was greatly 
astonished, and borrowed the others sword to examine it, returning it after carefully 
wiping the blade. He then invited Tung to his house, and made him stay the night; 
and after begging him to explain the mystery of his sword, began to nurse his leg and 
sit listening respectfully [p. 336] without saying a word. It was already pretty late, 
when suddenly there was a sound of scuffling next door, where Tung's father lived; 
and, on putting his ear to the wall, he heard an angry voice saying, "Tell your son to 
come here at once, and then I will spare you." This was followed by other sounds of 
beating and a continued groaning, in a voice which Tung knew to be his father's. He 
therefore seized a spear, and was about to rush forth, but Tung held him back, saying, 
"You'll be killed for a certainty if you go. Let us think of some other plan." Tung asked 
what plan he could suggest ; to which the other replied," The robbers are killing your 
father : there is no help for you; but as you have no brothers, just go and tell your wife 
and children what your last wishes are, while I try and rouse the servants." Tung 
agreed to this, and ran in to tell his wife, who clung to him and implored him not to go, 
until at length all his courage had ebbed away, and he went upstairs with her to get 
his bow and arrows ready to resist the robbers attack. At that juncture he heard the 
voice of his friend T'ung, outside on the eaves of the house, saying, with a laugh, "All 
right; the robbers have gone;" but on lighting a candle, he could see nothing of him. 
He then stole out to the front door, where he met his father with a lantern in his hand, 
coming in from a party at a neighbour's house; and the whole court-yard was covered 
with the ashes of burnt grass, whereby he knew that T'ung the traveller was himself a 
supernatural.3 


 

1 Besides the all-important aspirate, this name is pronounced in a different 
tone from the first-mentioned Tung; and is, moreover, expressed in writing by a 
totally different character. To a Chinese ear, the two words are as unlikely to be 
confounded as Brown and Jones. 

2 The Four Seas are supposed by the Chinese to bound the habitable portions 
of the earth, which, by the way, they further believe to be square. In the centre of all is 
China, extending far and wide in every direction,the eye of the universe, the Middle 
Kingdom. Away at a distance from her shores lie a number of small islands, wherein 
dwell such barbarous nations as the English, French, Dutch, &c. 

3 The author adds a note to this story which might be summed up in our own 

 The [wo]man that deliberates is lost. 

LXXXV. THE DISEMBODIED FRIEND 

MR. CHN, M.A., of Shun-t'ien Fu, when a boy of sixteen, went to school at a 
Buddhist temple.1 There were a great many scholars besides himself, and, among 
others, one named Chu, who said he came from Shantung. This Chu was a very 
hard-working fellow; he never seemed to be idle, and actually slept in the schoolroom, 
not going home at all. Chn became much attached to him, and one day asked him 
why he never went away. Well, you see, replied Chu, my people are very poor, and 
can hardly afford to pay for my schooling; but, by dint of working half the night, two of 
my days are equal to three of anybody elses. Thereupon Chn said he would bring 
his own bed to the school, and that they would sleep there together; to which Chu 
replied that the teaching they got wasnt worth much, and that they would do better 
by putting themselves under a certain old scholar named L. This they were easily 
able to do, as the arrangement at the temple was monthly, and at the end of each 
month any one was free to go or to come. 

So off they went to this Mr. L, a man of considerable literary attainments, who 
had found himself in Shun-tien Fu without a cash in his pocket, and was accordingly 
obliged to take pupils. He was delighted at getting two additions to his number; and 
Chu showing himself an apt scholar, the two soon became very great friends, sleeping 
in the same room and eating at the same table. At the end of the month Chu asked for 
leave of absence, and, to the astonishment of all, ten days elapsed without anything 
being heard of him. It then chanced that Chn went to the Tien-rung temple, and 
there he saw Chu under one of the verandahs, occupied in cutting wood for lucifer-
matches.2 The latter was much disconcerted by the arrival of Chn, who asked him 
why he had given up his studies; so the latter took him aside, and explained that he 
was so poor as to be obliged to work half a month to scrape together funds enough for 
his next months schooling. You come along back with me, cried Chn, on hearing 
this, I [p. 338] will arrange for the payment, which Chu immediately consented to do 
on condition that Chn would keep the whole thing a profound secret. 

Now Chns father was a wealthy tradesman, and from his till Chn abstracted 
money wherewith to pay for Chu; and by-and-by, when his father found him out, he 
confessed why he had done so. Thereupon Chns father called him a fool, and would 
not let him resume his studies; at which Chu was much hurt, and would have left the 
school too, but that old Mr. L discovered what had taken place, and gave him the 


money to return to Chns father, keeping him still at the school, and treating him 
quite like his own son. So Chn studied no more, but whenever he met Chu he 
always asked him to join in some refreshment at a restaurant, Chu invariably 
refusing, but yielding at length to his entreaties, being himself loth to break off their 
old acquaintanceship. 

Thus two years passed away, when Chns father died, and Chn went back to 
his books under the guidance of old, Mr. L who was very glad to see such 
determination. Of course Chn was now far behind Chu; and in about six months 
Ls son arrived, having begged his way in search of his father, so Mr. L gave up his 
school and returned home with a purse which his pupils had made up for him, Chu 
adding nothing thereto but his tears. At parting, Mr. L advised Chn to take Chu as 
his tutor, and this he did, establishing him comfortably in the house with him. 

The examination was very shortly to commence, and Chn felt convinced that 
he should not get through; but Chu said he thought he should be able to manage the 
matter for him. On the appointed day he introduced Chn to a gentleman who he said 
was a cousin of his, named Liu, and asked Chn to accompany this cousin, which 
Chn was just proceeding to do when Chu pulled him back from behinds and he 
would have fallen down but that the cousin pulled him up again, and then, after 
having scrutinised his appearance, carried him off to his own house. There being no 
ladies there, Chn was put into the inner apartments; and a few days after-wards Liu 
said to him, A great many people will be at the gardens to-day let us go and amuse 
ourselves awhile, [p. 339] and afterwards I will send you home again. He then gave 
orders that a servant should proceed on ahead with tea and wine, and by-and-by they 
themselves went, and were soon in the thick of the fete. Crossing over a bridge, they 
saw beneath an old willow tree a little painted skiff, and were soon on board, engaged 
in freely passing round the wine. 

However, finding this a little dull, Liu bade his servant go and see if Miss Li, the 
famous singing-girl, was at home; and in a few minutes the servant returned bringing 
Miss Li with him. Chn had met her before, and so they at once exchanged greeetings, 
while Liu begged her to be good enough to favour them with a song. Miss Li, who 
seemed labouring under a fit of melancholy, forthwith began a funeral dirge; at which 
Chn was not much pleased, and observed that such a theme was hardly suitable to 
the occasion. With a forced smile, Miss Li changed her key, and gave them a love-song; 
whereupon Chn seized her hand, and said, Theres that song of the Huan-sha 
river,6 which you sang once before; I have read it over several times, but have quite 
forgotten the words. Then Miss Li began 

Eyes overflowing with tears, she sits gazing into her mirror 

Lifting the bamboo screen, one of her comrades approaches. 

She bends her head and seems intent on her bow-like slippers, 

And forces her eyebrows to arch themselves into a smile. 

With her scarlet sleeve she wipes the tears from her fragrant cheek, 

In fear and trembling lest they should guess the thoughts that 
overwhelm her. 

 

Chn repeated this over several times, until at length the skiff stopped, and 
they passed through a long verandah, where a great many verses had been inscribed 
on the walls,6 to which Chn at once proceeded to add a stanza of his own. Evening 


was now coming on, and Liu remarked that the candidates would be just about 
leaving the examination-hall;6 so he escorted him back to his own home, [p. 340] and 
there left him. 

The room was dark, and there was no one with him; but by-and-by the servants 
ushered in someone whom at first he took to be Chu. However, he soon saw that it 
was not Chu, and in another moment the stranger had fallen against him and 
knocked him down. Masters fainted! cried the servants, as they ran to pick him up; 
and then Chn discovered that the one who had fallen down was really no other than 
himself.7 On getting up, he saw Chu standing by his side; and when they had sent 
away the servants the latter said, Dont be alarmed: I am nothing more than a 
disembodied spirit. My time for reappearing on earths is long overdue, but I could not 
forget your great kindness to me, and accordingly I have remained under this form in 
order to assist in the accomplishment of your wishes. The three bouts[9] are over, and 
your ambition will be gratified. 

Chn then inquired if Chu could assist him in like manner for his doctors 
degree; to which the latter replied, Alas! the luck descending to you from your 
ancestors is not equal to that.10 They were a niggardly lot, and unfit for the 
posthumous honours you would thus confer on them. Chn next asked him whither 
he was going; and Chu replied that he hoped, through the agency of his cousin, who 
was a clerk in Purgatory, to be born again in old Mr. Ls family. They then bade each 
other adieu; and, when morning came, Chn set off to call on Miss Li, the singing-girl; 
but on reaching her house he found that she had been dead some days.11 He walked 
on to the gardens, and there he saw traces of verses that had been written on the 
walls, and evidently rubbed out, so as to be hardly decipherable. In a moment it 
flashed across him that the verses and their composers belonged to the other world. 
Towards evening Chu reappeared in high spirits, saying that he had succeeded in his 
design, and had come to wish Chn a long farewell. [p. 341] Holding out his open 
palms, he requested Chn to write the word Chu on each; and then, after refusing to 
take a parting cup, he went away, telling Chn that the examination-list would soon 
be out, and that they would meet again before long. Chn brushed away his tears and 
escorted him to the door, where a man, who had been waiting for dim, laid his hand 
on Chus head and pressed it downwards until Chu was perfectly flat. The man then 
put him in a sack and carried him off on his back. 

A few days afterwards the list came out, and, to his great joy, Chn found his 
name among the successful candidates whereupon he immediately started off to visit 
his old tutor, Mr. L.12 Now Mr. Ls wife had had no children for ten years, being 
about fifty years of age, when suddenly she gave birth to a son, who was born with 
both fists doubled up so that no one could open them. On his arrival Chn begged to 
see the child, and declared that inside its hands would be found written the word Chu. 
Old Mr. L laughed at this; but no sooner had the child set eyes on Chn than both 
its fists opened spontaneously, and there was the word as Chn had said. The story 
was soon told, and Chn went home, after making a handsome present to the family; 
and later on, when Mr. L went up for his doctors degree[13] and stayed at Chns 
house, his son was thirteen years old, and had already matriculated as a candidate for 
literary honours. 

 

1 Buddhist priests not unusually increase the revenue of their monastery by 


taking pupils ; and it is only fair to them to add that the curriculum is strictly secular, 
the boys learning precisely what they would at an ordinary school and nothing else. 

2 These consist simply of thin slips of wood dipped in brimstone, and resemble 
those used in England as late as the first quarter of the nineteenth century. They are 
said to have been invented by the people of Hang-chow, the capital of Chekiang; but it 
is quite possible that the hint may have first reached China from the West. They were 
called yin kuang, bring light (lucifer), fa chu, give forth illumination, and other 
names. Lucifer matches are now generally spoken of as tz lai huo, self-come fire, 
and are almost universally employed, except in remote parts where the flint and steel 
still hold sway. 

3 The whole point of the story hinges on this. 

4 Beside which lived Hsi Shih, the famous beauty of the fifth century after 
Christ. 

5 The Chinese have precisely the same mania as our Browns, Joneses, and 
Robinsons, for scribbling and carving their names and compositions all over the 
available parts of any place of public resort. The literature of inn walls alone would fill 
many ponderous tomes. 

6 The examination, which lists nine days, has been going on all this time. 

7 That is, his own body, into which Chus spirit had temporarily passed, his 
own occupying, meanwhile, the body of his friend. 

8 That is, for being born again, the sole hope and ambition of a disembodied 
shade. 

9 See No. LXXI., note 1. 

10 See No. LXI., note 3. 

11 His own spirit in Chus body had met her in a disembodied state. 

12 Such is the invariable custom. Large presents are usually made by those 
who can afford the outlay, and the tutors name has ever afterwards an honourable 
place in the family records. 

13 See No. XLVIII., note 1. 

LXXXVI. THE CLOTH MERCHANT 

A CERTAIN cloth merchant went to Ching-chou, where he happened to stroll 
into an old temple, all tumble-down and in ruins. He was lamenting over this sad state 
of things, when a priest who stood by observed that a devout believer like himself 
could hardly do better than put the place into repair, and thus obtain favour in the 
eyes of Buddha. This the merchant consented to do; whereupon the priest invited him 
to walk into the private quarters of the temple, and treated him with much courtesy; 
but [p. 342] he went on to propose that our friend the merchant should also undertake 
the general ornamentation of the place both inside and out.1 The latter declared he 
could not afford the expense, and the priest began to get very angry, and urged him so 
strongly that at last the merchant, in terror, promised to give all the money he had. 
After this he was preparing to go away, but the priest detained him, saying, You 
havent given the money of your own free will, and consequently youll be owing me a 


grudge: I cant do better than make an end of you at once. Thereupon he seized a 
knife, and refused to listen to all the cloth merchants entreaties, until at length the 
latter asked to be allowed to hang himself, to which the priest consented; and, 
showing him into a dark room, told him to make haste about it. 

At this juncture, a Tartar-General[2] happened to pass by the temple; and from 
a distance, through a breach in the old wall, he saw a damsel in a red dress pass into 
the priests quarters. This roused his suspicions,3 and dismounting from his horse, he 
entered the temple and searched high and low, but without discovering anything. The 
dark room above-mentioned was locked and double-barred, and the priest refused to 
open it, saying the place was haunted. The General in a rage burst open the door, and 
there beheld the cloth merchant hanging from a beam. [p. 343] He cut him down at 
once, and in a short time he was brought round and told the General the whole story. 
They then searched for the damsel, but she was nowhere to be found, having been 
nothing more than a divine manifestation. The General cut off the priests head and 
restored the cloth merchants property to him, after which the latter put the temple in 
thorough repair, and kept it well supplied with lights and incense ever afterwards. 

Mr. Chao, M.A., told me this story, with all its details.4 

 

1 The elaborate gilding and woodwork of an ordinary Chinese temple form a 
very serious item in the expense of restoration. Public subscriptions are usually the 
means employed for raising sufficient funds, the names of subscribers and amount 
given by each being published in some conspicuous position. Occasionally devout 
priestsblack swans, indeed, in Chinashut themselves up in boxes studded with 
nails, one of which they pull out every time a certain donation is given, and there they 
remain until every nail is withdrawn. But after all it is difficult to say whether they 
endure these trials so much for the faiths sake as for the funds from which they 
derive more of the luxuries of life, and the temporary notoriety gained by thus coming 
before the public. A Chinese proverb says, The image-maker doesnt worship Buddha. 
He knows too much about it; and the application of this saying may safely be 
extended to the majority of Buddhist priests in China. 

2 This is the title generally applied to the Manchu commanders of Manchu 
garrisons, who are stationed at certain of the most important points of the Chinese 
Empire, and whose presence is intended as a check upon the action of the civil 
authorities. 

3 See No. VI., note 2. 

4 The moral being, of course, that Buddha protects those who look after his 
interests on earth. 

LXXXVII. A STRANGE COMPANION 

HAN KUNG-FU, of Y-chng, told me that he was one day travelling along a 
road with a man of his village, named Png, when all of a sudden the latter 
disappeared, leaving his mule to jog along with an empty saddle. At the same moment, 
Mr. Han heard his voice calling for assistance, and apparently proceeding from inside 
one of the panniers strapped across the mules back; and on looking closely, there 
indeed he was in one of the panniers, which, however, did not seem to be at all 
displaced by his weight. On trying to get him out the mouth of the pannier closed itself 


tightly; and it was only when he cut it open with a knife that he saw Png curled up in 
it like a dog. He then helped him out, and asked him how he managed to get in; but 
this he was unable to say. It further appeared that his family was under fox influence, 
many strange things of this kind having happened before. 

LXXXVIII. SPIRITUALISTIC SANCES 

IT is customary in Shantung, when any one is sick, for the womenfolk to engage 
an old sorceress or medium, who strums on a tambourine and performs certain 
mysterious antics. This custom obtains even more in the capital, where young ladies 
of the best families frequently organise such sances among themselves. On a table in 
the hall [p. 344] they spread out a profusion of wine and meat, and burn huge candles 
which make the place as light as day. Then the sorceress, shortening her skirts, 
stands on one leg and performs the shang-yang,l while two of the others support her, 
one on each side. All this time she is chattering unintelligible sentences,2 something 
between a song and a prayer, the words being confused but uttered in a sort of tune; 
while the hall resounds with the thunder of drums, enough to stun a person, with 
which her vaticinations are mixed up and lost. By-and-by her head begins to droop, 
and her eyes to look aslant; and but for her two supporters she would inevitably fall to 
the ground. 

Suddenly she stretches forth her neck and bounds several feet into the air, 
upon which the other women regard her in terror, saying, The spirits have come to 
eat; and immediately all the candles are blown out and everything is in total darkness. 
Thus they remain for about a quarter of an hour, afraid to speak a, word, which in any 
case would not be heard through the din, until at length the sorceress calls out the 
personal name of the head of the family[3] and some others whereupon they 
immediately relight the candles and hurry up to ask if the reply of the spirits is 
favourable or otherwise. They then see that every scrap of the food and every drop of 
the wine has disappeared. Meanwhile, they watch the old womans expression, 
whereby they can tell if the spirits are well disposed; and each one asks her some 
question, to which she as promptly replies. 

Should there be any unbelievers among the party, the spirits are at once aware 
of their presence; and the old sorceress, pointing her finger at such a one, cries out, [p. 
345] Disrespectful mocker! where are your trousers? upon which the mocker alluded 
to looks down, and lo her trousers are gonegone to the top of a tree in the court-yard, 
where they will subsequently be found.4 

Manchu women and girls, especially, are firm believers in spiritualism. On the 
slightest provocation they consult their medium, who comes into the room gorgeously 
dressed, and riding on an imitation horse or tiger.5 In her hand she holds a long spear, 
with which she mounts the couch[6] and postures in an extraordinary manner, the 
animal she rides snorting or roaring fiercely all the time. Some call her Kuan Ti,7 
others Chang Fei, and others, again, Chou Kung, from her terribly martial aspect, 
which strikes fear into all beholders. And should any daring fellow try to peep in while 
the sance is going on, out of the window darts the spear, transfixes his hat, and 
draws it off his head into the room, while women and girls, young and old, hop round 
one after the other like geese, on one leg, without seeming to get the least fatigued. 

 

1 It is related in the Family Sayings, an apocryphal work which professes to 


give conversations of Confucius, that a number of one-legged birds having suddenly 
appeared in Chi, the Duke of Chi sent off to ask the Sage What was the meaning of 
this strange phenomenon. Confucius replied, The bird is the shang-yang, and 
portends beneficial rain. And formerly the boys and girls in Shantung would hop 
about on one leg, crying, The shang-yang has come; after which rain would be sure 
to follow. 

2 Speaking in the unknown tongue, like the Irvingites and others. 

3 This is a clever hit. The personal name of a man may not be uttered except 
by the Emperor, his father or mother, grandfather, grandmother, &c. Thus, the mere 
use of the personal name of the head of a family proves conclusively that the spirit of 
some one of his ancestors must be present. 

4 The above is a curious story to be found in a Chinese work over 200 years old; 
but no part of it more so than the forcible removal of some part of the clothing, which 
has been so prominent a feature in the sances of our own day. It may be added that 
in many a court-yard in Peking will be found one or more trees, which cause the view 
from the city wall to be very pleasing to the eye. 

5 The arrangement being that of the hobby-horse of bygone days. 

6 The couches of the North of China are brick beds, heated by a stove 
underneath, and covered with a mat. Upon one of these is generally a dwarf table and 
a couple of pillows; and here it is that the Chinaman loves to recline, his wine-kettle, 
opium-pipe, or tea-pot within reach, and a friend at his side, with whom he may 
converse far into the night. 

7 See No. LXXIII., note 3. Chang Fei was the bosom friend of the last, and was 
his associate-commander in the wars of the Three Kingdoms. Chou Kung was a 
younger brother of the first Emperor of the Chou dynasty, and a pattern of wisdom 
and virtue. He is said by the Chinese to have invented the compass; but the legend 
will not bear investigation. 

LXXXIX. THE MYSTERIOUS HEAD 

SEVERAL traders who were lodging at an inn in Peking occupied a room which 
was divided from the adjoining apartment by a partition of boards from which a piece 
[p. 346] was missing, leaving an aperture about as big as a basin. Suddenly a girls 
head appeared through the opening, with very pretty features and nicely dressed hair; 
and the next moment an arm, as white as polished jade. The traders were much 
alarmed, and, thinking it was the work of devils, tried to seize the dead, which, 
however, was quickly drawn in again out of their reach. This happened a second time, 
and then, as they could see nobody belonging to the head, one of them took a knife in 
his hand and crept up against the partition underneath the hole. In a little while the 
head reappeared, when he made a chop at it and cut it off, the blood spurting out all 
over the floor and wall. The traders hurried off to tell the landlord, who immediately 
reported the matter to the authorities, taking the head with him, and the traders were 
forthwith arrested and examined; but the magistrate could make nothing of the case, 
and, as no one appeared for the prosecution, the accused, after about six months 
incarceration, were accordingly released, and orders were given for the girls head to be 
buried. 


XC. THE SPIRIT OF THE HILLS 

A MAN named Li, of I-tu, was once crossing the hills when he came upon a 
number of persons sitting on the ground engaged in drinking. As soon as they saw Li 
they begged him to join them, and vied with each other in filling his cup. Meanwhile, 
he looked about him and noticed that the various trays and dishes contained all kinds 
of costly food; the wine only seemed to him a little rough on the palate. In the middle 
of their fun up came a stranger with a face about three feet long and a very tall hat; 
whereupon the others were much alarmed, and cried out, The hill spirit! the hill 
spirit! running away in all directions as fast as they could go. Li hid himself in a hole 
in the ground; and when by-and-by he peeped out to see what had happened, the wine 
and food had disappeared, and there was nothing there but a few dirty potsherds and 
some pieces of broken tiles with efts and lizards crawling over them.l [p. 347] 

 

1 Mr. Li had, doubtless, taken a drop too much before he started on his 
mountain walk. 

XCI. INGRATITUDE PUNISHED 

KU TA-YU was a native of the Yang district, and managed to get a military 
appointment under the command of Tsu Shu-shun.l The latter treated him most 
kindly, and finally sent him as Major-General of some troops by which he was then 
trying to establish the dynasty of the usurping Chous. Ku soon perceived that the 
game was lost, and immediately turned his forces upon Tsu Shu-shun, whom he 
succeeded in capturing, after Tsu had been wounded in the hand, and whom he at 
once forwarded as a prisoner to headquarters. 

That night he dreamed that the judge of Purgatory appeared to him, and, 
reproaching him with his base ingratitude, bade the devil-lictors seize him and scald 
his feet in a cauldron of boiling oil. Ku then woke up with a start, and found that his 
feet were very sore and painful; and in a short time they swelled up, and his toes 
dropped off. Fever set in, and in his agony he shrieked out, Ungrateful wretch that I 
was indeed, and fell back and expired. 

 

1 Of whom I can learn nothing. 

XCII. SMELLING ESSAYS[1] 

Now as they wandered about the temple they came upon an old blind priest 
sitting under the verandah, engaged in selling medicines and prescribing for patients. 
Ah! cried Sung, there is an extraordinary man who is well versed in the arts of 
composition and immediately he sent back to get the essay they had just been 
reading, in order to obtain the old priests opinion as to its merits. At the same 
moment up came their friend from Y-hang, and all three went along together. 

Wang began by addressing him as Professor; whereupon the priest, who 
thought the stranger had come to consult him as a doctor, inquired what might be the 
disease from which he was suffering. Wang then explained what his mission was upon 
which the priest smiled and said, Whos been [p. 348] telling you this nonsense? How 


can a man with no eyes discuss with you the merits of your compositions? Wang 
replied by asking him to let his ears do duty for his eyes; but the priest answered that 
he would hardly have patience to sit out Wangs three sections, amounting perhaps to 
some two thousand and more words. However, added he, if you like to burn it, Ill 
try what I can do with my nose. 

Wang complied, and burnt the first section there and then; and the old priest, 
snuffing up the smoke, declared that it wasnt such a bad effort, and finally gave it as 
his opinion that Wang would probably succeed at the examination. The young scholar 
from Y-hang didnt believe that the old priest could really tell anything by these 
means, and forthwith proceeded to burn an essay by one of the old masters; but the 
priest no sooner smelt the smoke than he cried out, Beautiful indeed! beautiful 
indeed! I do enjoy this. The light of genius and truth is evident here. 

The Y-hang scholar was greatly astonished at this, and began to burn an 
essay of his own; whereupon the priest said, I had had but a taste of that one; why 
change so soon to another? The first paragraph, replied the young man, was by a 
friend; the rest is my own composition. No sooner had he uttered these words than 
the old priest began to retch violently, and begged that he might have no more, as he 
was sure it would make him sick. 

The Y-hang scholar was much abashed at this, and went away; but in a few 
days the list came out, and his name was among the successful ones, while Wangs 
was not. He at once hurried off to tell the old priest, who, when he heard the news, 
sighed and said, I may be blind with my eyes, but I am not so with my nose, which I 
fear is the case with the examiners. Besides, added he, I was talking to you about 
composition: I said nothing about destiny.2 [p. 349] 

 

1 The following extract from a long and otherwise tedious story tells its own tale. 
Wang is the modest man, and the young man from Y-hang the braggart. Sung is 
merely a friend of Wangs. 

2 This is one of our authors favourite shaftsa sneer at examiners in general, 
and those who rejected him in particular. 

XCIII. HIS FATHERS GHOST 

A man named Tien Tz.-chng, of Chiang-ning, was crossing the Tung-ting 
lake, when the boat was capsized, and he was drowned. His son, Liang-ss., who, 
towards the close of the Ming dynasty, took the highest degree, was then a baby in 
arms; and his wife, hearing the bad news, swallowed poison forthwith,1 and left the 
child to the care of his grandmother. 

When Liang-ss. grew up, he was appointed magistrate in Hu-pei, where he 
remained about a year. He was then transferred to Hu-nan, on military service; but, 
on reaching the Tung-ting lake, his feelings overpowered him, and he returned to 
plead inability as an excuse for not taking up his post. Accordingly, he was degraded 
to the rank of Assistant-Magistrate, which he at first declined, but was finally 
compelled to accept; and thenceforward gave himself up to roaming about on the lakes 
and streams of the surrounding country, without paying much attention to his official 
duties. 


One night he had anchored his boat alongside the bank of a river, when 
suddenly the cadence of a sweetly-played flageolet broke upon his ear; so he strolled 
along by the light of the moon in the direction of the music, until, after a few minutes 
walking, he reached a cottage standing by itself, with a few citron-trees round it, and 
brilliantly lighted inside. Approaching a window, he peeped in, and saw three persons 
sitting at a table, engaged in drinking. In the place of honour was a graduate of about 
thirty years of age; an old man played the host, and at the side sat a much younger 
man playing on the flageolet. When he had finished, the old man clapped his hands in 
admiration; but the graduate turned away with a sigh, as if he had not heard a note. 
Come now, Mr. Lu, cried the old man, addressing the latter, kindly favour us with 
one of your songs, which, I know, must be worth hearing. The graduate then began to 
sing as follows: [p. 350] 

Over the river the wind blows cold on lonely me: 

 Each flowret trampled under foot, all verdure gone. 

At home a thousand li away, I cannot be; 

 So towards the Bridge my spirit nightly wanders on. 

 

The above was given in such melancholy tones that the old man smiled and 
said, Mr. Lu, these must be experiences of your own, and, immediately filling a 
goblet, added, I can do nothing like that; but if you will let me, I will give you a song 
to help us on with our wine. He then sang a verse from Li Tai-po,2 and put them all 
in a lively humour again; after which the young man said he would just go outside and 
see how high the moon was, which he did, and, observing Liang-ss. outside, clapped 
his hands, and cried out to his companions, There is a man at the window, who has 
seen all we have been doing. He then led Liang-ss. in; whereupon the other two rose, 
and begged him to be seated, and to join them in their wine. The wine, however, was 
cold,3 and he therefore declined; but the young man at once perceived his reason, and 
proceeded to warm some for him. Liang-ss now ordered his servant to go and buy 
some more, but this his host would not permit him to do. They next inquired Lang-
ss.s name, and whence he came, and then the old man said, Why, then, you are the 
father and mother[4] of the district in which I live. My name is River: I am an old 
resident here. This young man is a Mr. Tu, of Kiang-si; and this gentleman, added he, 
pointing to the graduate, is Mr. Rushten,5 a fellow-provincial of yours. Mr. Rushten 
looked at Liang-ss in rather a contemptuous way, and without taking much notice of 
him; whereupon Liang-ss asked him whereabouts he lived in Chiang-ning, observing 
that it was strange he himself should never have heard of such an accomplished 
gentleman. Alas replied Rushten, it is many a [p. 351] long day since I left my home, 
and I know nothing even of my own family. Alas, indeed I These words were uttered in 
so mournful a tone of voice that the old man broke in with, Come come, now! talking 
like this, instead of drinking when were all so jolly together; this will never do. He 
then drained a bumper himself, and said, I propose a game of forfeits. Well throw 
with three dice; and whoever throws so that the spots on one die equal those on the 
other two shall give us a verse with a corresponding classical allusion in it. He then 
threw himself, and turned up an ace, a two, and a three; whereupon he sang the 
following lines: 

An ace and a deuce on one side, just equal a three on the other: 

For Fan a chicken was boiled, though three years had passed, by 
Changs mother.7 


 Thus friends love to meet! 

 

Then the young musician threw, and turned up two twos and a four; 
whereupon he exclaimed, Dont laugh at the feeble allusion of an unlearned fellow 
like me: 

Two deuces are equal to a four; 

Four men united their valour in the old city.8 

 Thus brothers love to meet! 

 

Mr. Rushten followed with two aces and a two, and recited these lines: 

Two aces are equal to a two: 

Lu-hsiang stretched out his two arms and embraced his father.9 

 Thus father and son love to meet! 

 

Liang then threw, and turned up the same as Mr. Rushten; whereupon he said: 

Two aces are equal to a two: 

Mao-jung regaled Lin-tsung with two baskets.10 

 Thus host and guest love to meet! 

 

When the partie was over Liang-ss. rose to go, but Mr. Rushten said, Dear me 
why are you in such a hurry; we havent had a moment to speak of the old place. 
Please stay: I was just going to ask you a few questions. So Liang-ss sat down again, 
and Mr. Rushten proceeded. I had an old friend, said he, who was drowned in the 
Tung-ting lake. He bore the same name as yourself; was he a relative? He was my 
father, replied Liang-ss.; how did you know him? We were friends as boys together; 
and when he was drowned; I recovered and buried his body by the river-side.11 
Liang-ss. here burst into tears, and thanked Mr. Rushten very warmly, begging him 
to point out his fathers grave. Come again to-morrow, said Mr. Rushten, and I will 
show it to you. You could easily find it yourself. It is close by here, and has ten stalks 
of water-rush growing on it. Liang-ss. now took his leave, and went back to his boat, 
but he could not sleep for thinking of what Mr. Rushten had told him; and at length, 
without waiting for the dawn, he set out to look for the grave. To his great 
astonishment, the house where he had spent the previous evening had disappeared; 
but hunting about in the direction indicated by Mr. Rushten, he found a grave with 
ten [p. 353] water-rushes growing on it, precisely as Mr. Rushten had described. It 
then flashed across him that Mr. Rushtens name had a special meaning, and that he 
had been holding converse with none other than the disembodied spirit of his own 
father. And, on inquiring of the people of the place, he learnt that twenty years before, 
a benevolent old gentleman, named Kao, had been in the habit of collecting the bodies 
of persons found drowned, and burying them in that spot. Liang then opened the 
grave, and carried off his fathers remains to his own home, where his grandmother, to 
whom he described Mr. Rushtens appearance, confirmed the suspicion he himself 
had formed. It also turned out that the young musician was a cousin of his, who had 
been drowned when nineteen years of age; and then he recollected that the boys 
father had subsequently gone to Kiang-si, and that his mother had died there, and 
had been buried at the Bamboo Bridge, to which Mr. Rushten had alluded in his song. 
But he did not know who the old man was.12 [p. 351] 


 

1 This would be regarded as a very meritorious act by the Chinese. 

2 The Byron of China. 

3 Chinese wineor, more correctly, spiritsis always taken hot; hence the term 
wine-kettle, which frequently occurs in these pages. 

4 The Magistrate; who is supposed to be towards the people what a father is to 
his children. 

5 This singularly un-Chinese surname is employed to keep up a certain play 
upon words which exists in the original, and which is important to the dnouement of 
the story. River is the simple translation of a name actually in use. 

6 Chinese dice are the exact counterpart of our own, except that the ace and 
the four are coloured red: the ace because the combination of black and white would 
be unlucky, and the four because this number once turned up in response to the call 
of an Emperor of the Tang dynasty, who particularly wanted a four to win him the 
partie. All letters, despatches, and such documents, have invariably something red 
about them, this being the lucky colour, and to the Chinese emblematic of prosperity 
and joy. 

7 Alluding to an ancient story of a promise by a Mr. Fan that he would be at his 
friend Changs house that day three years. When the time drew near, Changs mother 
ridiculed the notion of a man keeping a three years appointment; but, acceding to her 
sons instances, she prepared a boiled chicken, which was barely ready when Fan 
arrived to eat of it. 

8 Alluding to the celebrated oath of confederation sworn in the peach garden 
between Kuan Y, or Kuan Ti (see No. I., note 4), Chang Fei (see No. LXIII., note 2), Liu 
Pei, who subsequently proclaimed himself Emperor, A.D. 221, and Chu-ko Liang, his 
celebrated minister, to whose sage counsels most of the success of the undertaking 
was due. 

9 Alluding to the story of a young man who went in search of his missing father. 

10 Lin-tsung saw his host kill a chicken which he thought was destined for 
himself. However, Mao-jung served up the dainty morsel to his mother, while he and 
his guest regaled themselves with two baskets of common vegetables. At this instance 
of filial piety, Lin-tsung had the good sense to be charmed. 

11 The Chinese recognise no act more worthy a virtuous man than that of 
burying stray bones, covering up exposed coffins, and so forth. By such means the 
favour of the Gods is most surely obtained, to say nothing of the golden opinions of the 
living. 

12 This is merely our authors way of putting the question of the old mans 
identity. He was the Spirit of the Watershis name, it will be recollected, was River
just, in fact, as we say Old Father Thames. 

XCIV. THE BOAT-GIRL BRIDE 

WANG KUEI-AN was a young man of good family. It happened once when he 
was travelling southwards, and had moored his boat to the bank, that he saw in 


another boat close by a young boat-girl embroidering shoes. He was much struck by 
her beauty, and continued gazing at her for some time, though she took not the 
slightest notice of him. By-and-by he began singing 

The Lo-yang lady lives over the way: 

[Fifteen years is her age I should say].1 [p. 354] 

 

to attract her attention, and then she seemed to perceive that he was addressing 
himself to her; but, after just raising her head and glancing at him, she resumed her 
embroidery as before. Wang then threw a piece of silver towards her, which fell on her 
skirt; however, she merely picked it up, and flung it on to the bank, as if she had not 
seen what it was, so Wang put it back in his pocket again. He followed up by throwing 
her a gold bracelet, to which she paid no attention whatever, never taking her eyes off 
her work. A few minutes after her father appeared, much to the dismay of Wang, who 
was afraid he would see the bracelet; but the young girl quietly placed her feet over it, 
and concealed it from his sight. The boatman let go the painter, and away they went 
down stream, leaving Wang sitting there, not knowing what to do next. And, having 
recently lost his wife, he regretted that he had not seized this opportunity to make 
another match; the more so, as when he came to ask the other boat-people of the 
place, no one knew anything about them. 

So Wang got into his own boat, and started off in pursuit; but evening came on, 
and, as he could see nothing of them, he was obliged to turn back and proceed in the 
direction where business was taking him. When he had finished that, he returned, 
making inquiries all the way along, but without hearing anything about the object of 
his search. 

On arriving at home, he was unable either to eat or to sleep, so much did this 
affair occupy his mind; and about a year afterwards he went south again, bought a 
boat, and lived in it as his home, watching carefully every single vessel that passed 
either up or down, until at last there was hardly one he didnt know by sight. But all 
this time the boat he was looking for never reappeared. 

Some six months passed away thus, and then, having exhausted all his funds, 
he was obliged to go home, where he remained in a state of general inaptitude for 
anything. One night he dreamed that he entered a village on the river-bank, and that, 
after passing several houses, he saw one with a door towards the south, and a 
palisade of bamboos inside. Thinking it was a garden, he walked in, and beheld a 
beautiful magnolia, covered with blossoms, which reminded him of the line: [p. 355] 

And Judas-tree in flower before the door.2 

 

A few steps farther on was a neat bamboo hedge, on the other side of which, towards 
the north, he found a small house, with three columns, the door of which was locked; 
and another, towards the south, with its window shaded by the broad leaves of a 
plaintain-tree. The door was barred by a clothes-horse, on which was hanging an 
embroidered petticoat; and, on seeing this, Wang stepped back, knowing that he had 
got to the ladies quarters; but his presence had already been noticed inside, and, in 
another moment, out came his heroine of the boat. Overjoyed at seeing her, he was on 
the point of grasping her hand, when suddenly the girls father arrived, and, in his 
consternation, Wang waked up, and found that it was all a dream. Every incident of it, 
however, remained clear and distinct in his mind, and he took care to say nothing 


about it to anybody, for fear of destroying its reality. 

Another year passed away, and he went again to Chin-kiang, where lived an 
official, named Hs, who was an old friend of the family, and who invited Wang to 
come and take a cup of wine with him. On his way thither, Wang lost his way, but at 
length reached a village which seemed familiar to him, and which he soon found, by 
the door with the magnolia inside, to be identical in every particular with the village of 
his dream. He went in through the [p. 356] doorway, and there was everything as he 
had seen it in his dream, even to the boat-girl herself. She jumped up on his arrival, 
and, shutting the door in his face, asked what his business was there. Wang inquired 
if she had forgotten about the bracelet, and went on to tell her how long he had been 
searching for her, and how, at last, she had been revealed to him in a dream. The girl 
then begged to know his name and family; and when she heard who he was, she asked 
what a gentleman like himself could want with a poor boat-girl like her, as he must 
have a wife of his own. But for you, replied Wang, I should, indeed, have been 
married long ago. Upon which the girl told him if that was really the case, he had 
better apply to her parents, although, added she, they have already refused a great 
many offers for me. The bracelet you gave me is here, but my father and mother are 
just now away from home; they will be back shortly. You go away now and engage a 
match-maker, when I dare say it will be all right if the proper formalities are 
observed. Wang then retired, the girl calling after him to remember that her name 
was Mng Yn, and her fathers Mng Chiang-li. 

He proceeded at once on his way to Mr. Hss, and after that sought out his 
intended father-in-law, telling him who he was, and offering him at the same time one 
hundred ounces of silver, as betrothal-money for his daughter. She is already 
promised, replied the old man; upon which Wang declared he had been making 
careful inquiries, and had heard, on all sides, that the young lady was not engaged, 
winding up by begging to know what objection there was to his suit. I have just 
promised her, answered her father, and I cannot possibly break my word; so Wang 
went away, deeply mortified, not knowing whether to believe it or not. 

That night he tossed about a good deal; and next morning, braving the ridicule 
with which he imagined his friend would view his wished-for alliance with a boat-girl, 
he went off to Mr. Hs, and told him all about it. Why didnt you consult me before? 
cried Mr. Hs; her father is a connection of mine. Wang then went on to give fuller 
particulars, which his friend interrupted by saying, Chiang-li is indeed poor, but he 
has never been a boatman. Are you sure you are not making a mistake? He then sent 
off [p. 357] his elder son to make inquiries; and to him the girls father said, Poor I am, 
but I dont sell my daughter.4 Your friend imagined that I should be tempted by the 
sight of his money to forego the usual ceremonies, and so I wont have anything to do 
with him. But if your father desires this match, and everything is in proper order, I will 
just go in and consult with my daughter, and see if she is willing. He then retired for 
a few minutes, and when he came back he raised his hands in congratulation, saying, 
Everything is as you wish; whereupon a day was fixed, and the young man went 
home to report to his father. 

Wang now sent off betrothal presents, with the usual formalities, and took up 
his abode with his friend, Mr. Hs, until the marriage was solemnised, three days after 
which he bade adieu to his father-in-law, and started on his way northwards. In the 
evening, as they were sitting on the boat together, Wang said to his wife, When I first 
met you near this spot, I fancied you were not of the ordinary boating-class. Where 


were you then going? I was going to visit my uncle, she replied. We are not a 
wealthy family, you know, but we dont want anything through an improper channel; 
and I couldnt help smiling at the great eyes you were making at me, all the time trying 
to tempt me with money. But when I heard you speak, I knew at once you were a man 
of refinement, though I guessed you were a bit of a rake; and so I hid your bracelet, 
and saved you from the wrath of my father. And yet, replied Wang, you have fallen 
into my snare after all; adding, after a little pressure, for I cant conceal from you 
much longer the fact that I have already a wife, belonging to a high official family. 

This she did not believe, until he began to affirm it seriously; and then she 
jumped up and ran out of the cabin. Wang followed at once, but, before he could reach 
her, she was already in the river whereupon he shouted out to boats to come to their 
assistance, causing quite a commotion all round about; but nothing was to be seen in 
the river, save only the reflection of the stars shining brightly on the water. All night 
long Wang went sorrowfully up and down, and offered a [p. 358] high reward for the 
body, which, however, was not forthcoming. So he went home in despair, and then, 
fearing lest his father-in-law should come to visit his daughter, he started on a visit to 
a connection of his, who had an appointment in Honan. 

In the course of a year or two, when on his homeward journey, he chanced to 
be detained by bad weather at a roadside inn of rather cleaner appearance than usual. 
Within he saw an old woman playing with a child, which, as soon as he entered, held 
out its arms to him to be taken. Wang took the child on his knee, and there it 
remained, refusing to go back to its nurse; and, when the rain had stopped, and Wang 
was getting ready to go, the child cried out, Pa-pa gone! The nurse told it to hold its 
tongue, and, at the same moment, out from behind the screen came Wangs long-lost 
wife. You bad fellow, said she, what am I to do with this? pointing to the child; and 
then Wang knew that the boy was his own son. He was much affected, and swore by 
the sun[5] that the words he had uttered had been uttered in jest, and by-and-by his 
wifes anger was soothed. 

She then explained how she had been picked up by a passing boat, the 
occupant of which was the owner of the house they were in, a man of sixty years of 
age, who had no children of his own, and who kindly adopted her.6 She also told him 
how she had had several offers of marriage, [p. 359] all of which she had refused, and 
how her child was born, and that she had called him Chi-shng, and that he was then 
a year old. Wang now unpacked his baggage again, and went in to see the old 
gentleman and his wife, whom he treated as if they had actually been his wifes 
parents. 

A few days afterwards they set off together towards Wangs home, where they 
found his wifes real father awaiting them. He had been there more than two months, 
and had been considerably disconcerted by the mysterious remarks of Wangs 
servants; but the arrival of his daughter and her husband made things all smooth 
again, and when they told him what had happened, he understood the demeanour of 
the servants which had seemed so strange to him, at first. 

 

1 From a poem by Wang Wei, a noted poet of the Tang dynasty; he lived A.D. 
699-759. The second line is not given in the text. 

2 From a poem by Pan Tang-shn, which runs: 


Her rustic home stands by the Tung-ting lake. 

 Ye who would there a pure libation pour, 

Look for mud walls, a roof of rushy make, 

 And Judas-tree in flower before the door. 

 

The Chinese believe that the Judas-tree will only bloom where fraternal love 
prevails. 

3 I have already observed that men and women should not let their hands 
touch when passing things to each other (see No. XL, note 2); neither is it considered 
proper for persons of different sexes to hang their clothes on the same clothes-horse. 
(See Appendix, note 42.) 

With regard to shaking hands, I have omitted to mention how objectionable this 
custom is in the eyes of the Chinese, as in vogue among foreigners, without reference 
to sex. They believe that a bad man might easily secrete some noxious drug in the 
palm of his hand, and so convey it into the system of any woman, who would then be 
at his mercy. 

4 Alluding to Wangs breach of etiquette in visiting the father himself, instead of 
sending a go-between, who would have offered the same sum in due form as the usual 
dowry or present to the brides family. 

5 Witnesses in a Chinese court of justice take no oath, in our sense of the term. 
Their written depositions, however, are always ended with the words the above 
evidence is the truth! In ordinary life people call heaven and earth to witness, or, as 
in this case, the sun; or they declare themselves willing to forfeit their lives; and so on, 
if their statements are not true. Saucer-breaking is one of those pleasant inductions 
from probably a single instance, which may have been the fancy of a moment; at any 
rate, it is quite unknown in China as a national custom. Cock-killing usually has 
reference to the ceremonies of initiation performed by the members of the numerous 
secret societies which exist over the length and breadth of the Empire, in spite of 
Government prohibitions, and the penalty of death incurred upon detection. 

6 Adoption is common all over China, and is regulated by law. For instance, an 
adopted son excludes all the daughters of the family. A man is not allowed to marry a 
girl whom he has adopted until he shall have given her away to be adopted in a family 
of a different surname from his own; after which fictitious ceremony, his marriage with 
her becomes legal (see No. XV., note 3); for the child adopted takes the same surname 
as that of the family into which he is adopted, and is so far cut off from his own 
relations, that he would not venture even to put on mourning for his real parents 
without first obtaining the consent of those who had adopted him. A son or daughter 
may be sold, but an adopted child may not; neither may the adopted child be given 
away in adoption to any one else without the specific consent of his real parents. The 
general object in adopting children is to leave some one behind at death to look after 
the duties of ancestral worship. For this boys are preferred; but the Fortunate Union 
gives an instance in which these rites were very creditably performed by the heroine of 
the tale. 

XCV. THE TWO BRIDES[1] 

Now Chi-shng, or Wang Sun, was one of the cleverest young fellows in the 


district; and his father and mother, who had foreseen his ability from the time when, 
as a baby in long clothes, he distinguished them from other people, loved him very 
dearly. He grew up into a handsome lad; at eight or nine he could compose elegantly, 
and by fourteen he had already entered his name as a candidate for the first degree, 
after which his marriage became a question for consideration. Now his fathers 
younger sister, Erh-niang, had married a gentleman named Chng Tz.-chiao, and 
they had a daughter called Kuei-hsiu, who was extremely pretty, and with whom Chi-
shng fell deeply in love, being soon unable either to eat or to sleep. His parents 
became extremely uneasy about him, and inquired what it was that ailed him; and 
when he told them, they [p. 360] at once sent off a match-maker to Mr. Chng. The 
latter, however, was rather a stickler for the proprieties, and replied that the near 
relationship precluded him from accepting the offer.2 Thereupon Chi-shng became 
dangerously ill, and his mother, not knowing what to do, secretly tried to persuade 
Erh-niang to let her daughter come over to their house; but Mr. Chng heard of it, and 
was so angry that Chi-shngs father and mother gave up all hope of arranging the 
match. 

At that time there was a gentleman named Chang living near by, who had five 
daughters, all very pretty, but the youngest, called Wu-ko, was singularly beautiful, 
far surpassing her four sisters. She was not betrothed to any one, when one day, as 
she was on her way to worship at the family tombs, she chanced to see Chi-shng, 
and at her return home spoke about him to her mother. Her mother guessed what her 
meaning was, and arranged with a match-maker, named Mrs. Y, to call upon Chi-
shngs parents. This she did precisely at the time when Chi-shng was so ill, and 
forthwith told his mother that her sons complaint was one she, Mrs. Y, was quite 
competent to cure; going on to tell her about Miss Wu-ko and the proposed marriage, 
at which the good lady was delighted, and sent her in to talk about it to Chi-shng 
herself. Alas! cried he, when he had heard Mrs. Ys story, you are bringing me the 
wrong medicine for my complaint. All depends upon the efficacy of the medicine, 
replied Mrs. Y; if the medicine is good, it matters not what is the name of the doctor 
who administers the draught; while to set your heart on a particular person, and to lie 
there and die because that person doesnt come, is surely foolish in the extreme. Ah, 
rejoined Chi-shng, theres no medicine under heaven that will do me any good. Mrs. 
Y told him his experience was limited, and proceeded to expatiate by speaking and 
gesticulating on the beauty and liveliness of Wu-ko. But all Chi-shng said was that 
she was not what he wanted, and, turning round his face to the wall, would listen to 
no more about her. So Mrs. Y was obliged to go away, and Chi-shng became worse 
and worse every day, until [p. 361] suddenly one of the maids came in and informed 
him that the young lady herself was at the door. Immediately he jumped up and ran 
out, and lo there before him stood a beautiful girl, whom, however, he soon discovered 
not to be Kuei-hsiu. She wore a light yellow robe with a fine silk jacket and an 
embroidered petticoat, from beneath which her two little feet peeped out; and 
altogether she more resembled a fairy than anything else. Chi-shng inquired her 
name; to which she replied that it was Wu-ko, adding that she couldnt understand 
his devoted attachment to Kuei-hsiu, as if there was nobody else in the world. Chi-
shng apologised, saying that he had never before seen any one so beautiful as Kuei-
hsiu, but that he was now aware of his mistake. He then swore everlasting fidelity to 
her, and was just grasping her hand when he awoke and found his mother rubbing 
him. 

It was a dream, but so accurately defined in all its details that he began to 


think if Wu-ko was really such as he had seen her, there would be no further need to 
try for his impracticable cousin. So he communicated his dream to his mother; and 
she, only too delighted to notice this change of feeling, offered to go to Wu-kos house 
herself; but Chi-shng would not hear of this, and arranged with an old woman who 
knew the family to find some pretext for going there, and to report to him what Wu-ko 
was like. When she arrived Wu-ko was ill in bed, and lay with her head propped up by 
pillows, looking very pretty indeed. The old woman approached the couch and asked 
what was the matter, to which Wu-ko made no reply, her fingers fidgetting all the time 
with her waistband. Shes been behaving badly to her father and mother, cried the 
latter, who was in the room; theres many a one has offered to marry her, but she 
says shell have none but Chi-shng: and then when I scold her a bit, she takes on 
and wont touch her food for days. Madam, said the old woman, if you could get 
that young man for your daughter they would make a truly pretty pair; and as for him, 
if he could only see Miss Wu-ko, Im afraid it would be too much for him. What do you 
think of my going there and getting them to make proposals? No, thank you, replied 
Wu-ko; I would rather not risk his refusal; upon which the old woman declared she 
would succeed, and [p. 362] hurried off to tell Chi-shng, who was delighted to find 
from her report that Wu-ko was exactly as he had seen her in his dream, though he 
didnt trust implicitly in all the old woman said. By-and-by, when he began to get a 
little better, he consulted with the old woman as to how he could see Wu-lib with his 
own eyes and, after some little difficulty, it was arranged that Chi-shng should hide 
himself in a room from which he would be able to see her as she crossed the yard 
supported by a maid, which she did every day at a certain hour. This Chi-shng 
proceeded to do, and in a little while out she came, accompanied by the old woman as 
well, who instantly drew her attention either to the clouds or the trees, in order that 
she should walk more leisurely. Thus Chi-shng had a good look at her, and saw that 
she was truly the young lady of his dream. He could hardly contain himself for joy; 
and when the old woman arrived and asked if she would do instead of Kuei-hsiu, he 
thanked her, very warmly and returned to his own home. There he told his father and 
mother, who sent off a match-maker to arrange the preliminaries; but the latter came 
back and told them that Wu-ko was already betrothed: This was a terrible blow for 
Chi-shng, who was soon as ill as ever, and offered no reply to his father and mother 
when they charged him with having made a mistake. 

For several months he ate nothing but a bowl of rice-gruel a day, and he 
became as emaciated as a fowl, when all of a sudden the old woman walked in and 
asked him what was the matter. Foolish boy, said she, when he had told her all; 
before you wouldnt have her, and do you imagine she is bound to have you now? But 
Ill see if I can help you; for were she the Emperors own daughter, I should still find 
some way of getting her. Chi-shng asked what he should do, and she then told him 
to send a servant with a letter next day to Wu-kos house, to which his father at first 
objected for fear of another repulse; but the old woman assured him that Wu-kos 
parents had since repented, besides which no written contract had as yet been made 
and you know the proverb, added she, that those who are first at the fire will get 
their dinner first. So Chi-shngs father agreed, and two servants were accordingly 
sent, their mission proving a complete success. 

Chi-shng [p. 363] now rapidly recovered his health, and thought no more of 
Kuei-hsiu, who, when she heard of the intended match, became in her turn very 
seriously ill, to the great anger of her father, who said she might die for all he cared, 
but to the great sorrow of her mother, who was extremely fond of her daughter. The 


latter even went so far as to propose to Mr. Chang that Kuei-hsiu should go as second 
wife, at which he was so enraged that he declared he would wash his hands of the girl 
altogether. 

The mother then found out when Chi-shngs wedding was to take place and, 
borrowing a chair and attendants from her brother under pretence of going to visit him, 
put Kuei-hsiu inside and sent her off to her uncles house. As she arrived at the door, 
the servants spread a carpet for her to walk on, and the band struck up the wedding 
march. Chi-shng went out to see what it was all about, and there met a young lady in 
a bridal veil, from whom he would have escaped had not her servants surrounded 
them, and, before he knew what he was doing, he was making her the usual 
salutation of a bridegroom. They then went in together, and, to his further 
astonishment, he found that the young lady was Kuei-hsiu; and, being now unable to 
go and meet Wu-ko, a message was sent to her father, telling him what had occurred. 
He, too, got into a great rage, and vowed he would break off the match; but Wu-ko 
herself said she would go all the same, her rival having only got the start of her in 
point of time. 

And go she did and the two wives, instead of quarrelling, as was expected, lived 
very happily together like sisters, and wore each others clothes and shoes without 
distinction, Kuei-hsiu taking the place of an elder sister as being somewhat older than 
Wu-ko.3 

One day, after these events, Chi-shng asked Wu-ko why she had refused his 
offer; to which she replied that it was merely to pay him out for having previously 
refused her fathers proposal. Before you had seen me, your head was full of Kuei-
hsiu; but after you had seen me, your thoughts were somewhat divided; and I wanted 
to know how I compared with her, and whether [p. 364] you would fall ill on my 
account as you had on hers, that we mightnt quarrel about our looks. It was a cruel 
revenge, said Chi-shng; but how should I ever have got a sight of you had it not 
been for the old woman? What had she to do with it? replied Wu-ko; I knew you 
were behind the door all the time. When I was ill I dreamt that I went to your house 
and saw you, but I looked upon it only as a dream until I heard that you had dreamt 
that I had actually been there, and then I knew that my spirit must have been with 
you. Chi-shng now related to her the particulars of his vision, which coincided 
exactly with her own and thus, strangely enough, had the matrimonial alliances of 
both father and son been brought about by dreams. 

 

1 This story is a sequel to the last. 

2 The surnames would in this case be different, and no obstacle could be 
offered on that score. See No. XV., note 3. 

3 The dnouement of the Y chiao li, a small novel which was translated into 
French by Rmusat, and again by Julien under the title of Les Deux Cousines, is 
effected by the hero of the tale marrying both the heroines. 

XCVI. A SUPERNATURAL WIFE 

A CERTAIN Mr. Chao, of Chang-shan, lodged in a family of the name of Tai. He 
was very badly off, and, falling sick, was brought almost to deaths door. One day they 
moved him into the verandah, that it might be cooler for him; and, when he awoke 


from a nap, lo! a beautiful girl was standing by his side. I am come to be your wife, 
said the girl, in answer to his question as to who she was to which he replied that a 
poor fellow like himself did not look for such luck as that; adding that, being then on 
his death-bed, he would not have much occasion for the services of a wife. The girl 
said she could cure him; but he told her he very much doubted that; And even, 
continued he, should you have any good prescription, I have not the means of getting 
it made up. I dont want medicine to cure you with, rejoined the girl, proceeding at 
once to rub his back and sides with her hand, which seemed to him like a ball of fire. 
He soon began to feel much better, and asked the young lady what her name was, in 
order, as he said, that he might remember her in his prayers. I am a spirit, replied 
she; and you, when alive under the Han dynasty as Chu Sui-lang, were a benefactor 
of my family. Your kindness being engraven on my heart, I have at length succeeded in 
my search for you, and am able in some measure to requite you. Chao was dreadfully 
ashamed of his poverty-stricken state, and [p. 365] afraid that his dirty room would 
spoil the young ladys dress; but she made him show her in, and accordingly he took 
her into his apartment, where there were neither chairs to sit upon, nor signs of 
anything to eat, saying, You might, indeed, be able to put up with all this; but you see 
my larder is empty, and I have absolutely no means of supporting a wife. Dont be 
alarmed about that, cried she; and in another moment he saw a couch covered with 
costly robes, the walls papered with a silver-flecked paper, and chairs and tables 
appear, the latter laden with all kinds of wine and exquisite viands. They then began 
to enjoy themselves, and lived together as husband and wife, many people coming to 
witness these strange things, and being all cordially received by the young lady, who 
in her turn always accompanied Mr. Chao when he went out to dinner anywhere. 

One day there was an unprincipled young graduate among the company, which 
she seemed immediately to become aware of; and, after calling him several bad names, 
she struck him on the side of the head, causing his head to fly out of the window while 
his body remained inside; and there he was, stuck fast, unable to move either way, 
until the others interceded for him and he was released. After some time visitors 
became too numerous, and if she refused to see them they turned their anger against 
her husband. 

At length, as they were sitting together drinking with some friends at the Tuan-
yang festival,2 a white rabbit ran in, whereupon the girl jumped up and said, The 
doctor[3] has come for me; then, turning to the rabbit, she added, [p. 366] You go on: 
Ill follow you. So the rabbit went away, and then she ordered them to get a ladder 
and place it against a high tree in the back yard, the top of the ladder overtopping the 
tree. The young lady went up first and Chao close behind her; after which she called 
out to anybody who wished to join them to make haste up. None ventured to do so 
with the exception of a serving-boy belonging to the house, who followed after Chao; 
and thus they went up, up, up, up, until they disappeared in the clouds and were 
seen no more. However, when the bystanders came to look at the ladder, they found it 
was only an old door-frame with the panels knocked out; and when they went into Mr. 
Chaos room, it was the same old, dirty, unfurnished room as before. So they 
determined to find out all about it from the serving-boy when he came back; but this 
he never did. 

 

1 The sexes do not dine together. On the occasion of a dinner-party, private or 
official, the ladies give a separate entertainment to the wives of the various guests in 


the inner or womens apartments, as an adjunct to which a theatrical troupe is often 
engaged, precisely as in the case of the opposite sex. Singing-girls are, however, 
present at and share in the banquets of the rous of China. 

2 This occurs on the 5th of the 5th moon, and is commonly known as the 
Dragon-Boat Festival, from a practice of racing on that day in long, narrow boats. It is 
said to have been instituted in memory of a patriotic statesman named Ch Yan, 
who drowned himself (B.C. 295) because his counsels were unheeded. 

3 A hare or rabbit is believed to sit at the foot of the cassia-tree in the moon, 
pounding the drugs out of which is concocted the elixir of immortality. The first 
allusion to this occurs in the poems of Ch Yan (see preceding note). 

XCVII. BRIBERY AND CORRUPTION 

AT Pao-ting Fu there lived a young man, who having purchased the lowest[1] 
degree was about to proceed to Peking, in the hope of obtaining, by the aid of a little 
bribery, an appointment as District Magistrate. His boxes were all ready packed, when 
he was taken suddenly ill and was confined to his bed for more than a month. 

One day the servant entered and announced a visitor; whereupon our sick man 
jumped up and ran to the door as if there was nothing the matter with him. The visitor 
was elegantly dressed like a man of some position in society; and, after bowing thrice, 
he walked into the house, explaining that he was Kung-sun Hsia,2 tutor to the 
Eleventh Prince, and that he had heard our Mr. So-and-so wished to arrange for the 
purchase of a magistracy. If that is really so, added he, would you not do better to 
buy a prefecture? So-and-so thanked him warmly, but said his funds would not be 
sufficient; upon which Mr. Kung-sun declared he should be delighted to assist him 
with half [p. 367] the purchase-money, which he could repay after taking up the 
post.3 He went on to say that being on intimate terms with the various provincial 
Governors the thing could be easily managed for about five thousand taels; and also 
that at that very moment Chn-ting Fu being vacant, it would be as well to make an 
early effort to get the appointment. So-and-so pointed out that this place was in his 
native province;4 but Kung-sun only laughed at his objection, and reminded him that 
money[5] could obliterate all distinctions of that kind. This did not seem quite 
satisfactory; however, Kung-sun told him not to be alarmed, as the post of which he 
was speaking was below in the infernal regions. The fact is, said he, that your term 
of life has expired, and that your name is already on the death list; by these means 
you will take your place in the world below as a man of official position. Farewell! In 
three days we shall meet again. He then went to the door and mounted his horse and 
rode away. 

So-and-so now opened his eyes and spoke a few parting words to his wife and 
children, bidding them take money from his strong room[6] and go buy large 
quantities of paper ingots;7 [p. 368] which they immediately did, quite exhausting all 
the shops. This was piled in the court-yard with paper images of men, devils, horses, 
&c., and burning went on day and night until the ashes formed quite a hill. 

In three days Kung-sun returned, bringing with him the money; upon which 
So-and-so hurried off to the Board of Civil Office,8 where he had an interview with the 
high officials, who, after asking his name, warned him to be a pure and upright officer, 
and then calling him up to the table handed him his letter of appointment. So-and-so 
bowed and took his leave; but recollecting at once that his purchased degree would 


not carry much weight with it in the eyes of his subordinates,9 he sent off to buy 
elaborate chairs and a number of horses for his retinue, at the same time despatching 
several devil lictors to fetch his favourite wife in a beautifully adorned sedan-chair. 

All arrangements were just completed when some of the Chn-ting staff came to 
meet the new Prefect,10 others awaiting him all along the line of road, about half a 
mile in length. He was immensely gratified at this reception, when all of a sudden the 
gongs before him ceased to sound, and the banners were lowered to the ground. He 
had hardly time to ask what was the matter before he saw those of his servants who 
were on horseback jump hastily to the ground and dwindle down to about a foot in 
height, while their horses shrank to the size of foxes or racoons. One of the attendants 
near his chariot cried out in alarm, Heres Kuan Ti![11] and then he, too, jumped out 
in a fright, and saw in the distance Kuan Ti himself slowly approaching them, followed 
by four or five retainers on horseback. His great beard covered the lower half of his 
face, quite unlike ordinary mortals; his aspect was terrible to behold, and his eyes 
reached nearly to his ears. Who is this? roared he to his servants; and they 
immediately informed him that it was the new Prefect of Chn-ting. What! cried he; 
a petty fellow like that to have a retinue like [p. 369] this?12 Whereupon So-and-sos 
flesh began to creep with fear, and in a few moments he found that he too had shrunk 
to the size of a little boy of six or seven. 

Kuan Ti bade his attendants bring the new Prefect with them, and went into a 
building at the roadside, where he took up his seat facing the south[13] and calling for 
writing materials told So-and-go to write down his name and address. When this was 
handed to him he flew into a towering passion, and said, The scribbly scrawl of a 
placeman, indeed![14] Can such a one be entrusted with the welfare of the people? 
Look me up the record of his good works. A man then advanced, and whispered 
something in a low tone; upon which Kuan Ti exclaimed in a loud voice, The crime of 
the briber is comparatively trifling; the heavy guilt lies with those who sell official 
posts for money. So-and-so was now seized by angels in golden armour, and two of 
them tore off his cap and robes, and administered to him fifty blows with the bamboo, 
until hardly any flesh remained on his bones. He was then thrust outside the door, 
and lo! his carriages and horses had disappeared, and he himself was lying, unable to 
walk for pain, at no great distance from his own house. However, his body seemed as 
light as a leaf, and in a day and a night he managed to crawl home. 

When he arrived, he awoke as it were from a dream, and found himself 
groaning upon the bed; and to the inquiries of his family he only replied that he felt 
dreadfully sore. Now he really had been dead for seven days; and when he came round 
thus, he immediately asked for A-lien, which was the name of his favourite wife. But 
the very day before, while chatting with the other members of the family, A-lien had 
suddenly cried out that her husband was made Prefect of Chn-ting and that his 
lictors had come to escort her thither. Accordingly she retired to dress herself in her 
best clothes, and, when ready to start, she fell back and expired. Hearing this sad 
story, So-and-so began to mourn and beat his [p. 370] breast, and he would not allow 
her to be buried at once, in the hope that she might yet come round; but this she 
never did. 

Meanwhile So-and-so got slowly better, and by the end of six months was able 
to walk again. He would often exclaim, The ruin of my career and the punishment I 
receivedall this I could have endured; but the loss of my dear A-lien is more than I 
can bear. 15 


 

1 By which he would become eligible for Government employ. The sale of 
degrees has been extensively carried on under the present dynasty, as a means of 
replenishing an empty treasury. 

2 Kung-sun is an example of a Chinese double surname. 

3 Such is the common system of repaying the loan, by means of which an 
indigent nominee is enabled to defray the expenses of his journey to the post to which 
he has been appointed, and other calls upon his purse. These loans are generally 
provided by some western merchant, which term is an ellipsis for a Shansi banker, 
Shansi being literally west of the mountains. Some one accompanies the newly-made 
official to his post, and holds his commission in pawn until the amount is repaid; 
which settlement is easily effected by the issue of some well-understood proclamation, 
calling, for instance, upon the people to close all gambling-houses within a given 
period. Immediately the owners of these hells forward presents of money to the 
incoming official, the Shansi banker gets his principal with interest, perhaps at the 
rate of 2 per cent, per month, the gambling-houses carry on as usual, and everybody is 
perfectly satisfied. 

4 Which fact would disqualify him from taking the post. 

5 Literally, square hole. A common name for the Chinese cash. See No. II, note 
2. 

6 In the case of wealthy families these strong rooms often contain, in addition 
to bullion, jewels to a very great amount belonging to the ladies of the house; and, as a 
rule, the door may not be opened unless in the presence of a certain number of the 
male representatives of the house. 

7 Pieces of silver and gold paper made up to represent the ordinary Chinese 
shoes of bullion (see No. XVIII., note 4), and burnt for the use of the dead. Generally 
known to foreigners in China as joss-paper, 

8 See No. VII., note 1. In this case the reference is to a similar Board in the 
Infernal Regions. 

9 These would be sure to sneer at him behind his back. 

10 A compliment usually paid to an incoming official. 

11 See No. I., note 4. 

12 The retinue of a Mandarin should be in accordance with his rank. I have 
given elsewhere (see No. LVI., note 5) what would be that of an official of the highest 
rank. 

13 See No. LXXVII., note 1. 

14 Good writing holds a much higher place in the estimation of the Chinese 
than among Western nations. The very nature of their characters raises calligraphy 
almost to the rank of an art. 

15 The author here adds a somewhat similar case, which actually occurred in 
the reign of Kang Hsi, of a Viceroy, who was modestly attended, falling in with the 
gorgeous retinue of a Magistrate, and being somewhat rudely treated by the servants 
of the latter. On arriving at his destination, the Viceroy sent for that Magistrate, and 


sternly bade him retire from office, remarking that no simple magistrate could afford 
to keep such a retinue of attendants unless by illegal exactions from the suffering 
people committed to his charge. 

XCVIII. A CHINESE JONAH 

A MAN named Sun Pi-chn was crossing the river[1] when a great thunder-
squall broke upon the vessel and caused her to toss about fearfully, to the great terror 
of all the passengers. Just then, an angel in golden armour appeared standing upon 
the clouds above them, holding in his hand a scroll inscribed with certain characters, 
also written in gold, which the people on the vessel easily made out to be three in 
number, namely Sun Pi-chn. So, turning at once to their fellow-traveller, they said to 
him, You have evidently incurred the displeasure of Heaven; get into a boat by 
yourself, and do not involve us in your punishment. And without giving him time to 
reply whether he would do so or not, they hurried him over the side into a small boat 
and set him adrift; but when Sun Pi-chn looked back, lo! the vessel itself had 
capsized.2 [p. 371] 

 

1 The Yang-tze: sometimes spoken of as the Long River. 

2 The full point of this story can hardly be conveyed in translation. The mans 
surname was Sun, and his praenomen, Pi-chn (which in Chinese follows the nomen), 
might be rendered Must-be-saved. However, there is another word meaning struck, 
precisely similar in sound and tone, though written differently, to the above chn; and, 
so far as the ear alone is concerned, our heros name might have been either Sun 
Must-be-saved or Sun Must-be-struck. That the merchants mistook the character chn, 
saved, for chn struck, is evident from the catastrophe which overtook their vessel, 
while Mr. Suns little boat rode safely through the storm. 

XCIX. CHANG PU-LIANG 

A CERTAIN trader who was travelling in the province of Chih-li, being overtaken 
by a storm of rain and hail, took shelter among some standing crops by the wayside. 
There he heard a voice from heaven, saying, These are Chang Pu-liangs fields; do not 
injure his crops. The trader began to wonder who this Chang Pu-liang could be, and 
how, if he was pu liang (not virtuous), he came to be under divine protection; so when 
the storm was over and he had reached the neighbouring village, he made inquiries on 
the subject, and told the people there what he had heard. 

The villagers then informed him that Chang Pu-liang was a very wealthy farmer, 
who was accustomed every spring to make loans of grain to the poor of the district, 
and who was not too particular about getting back the exact amount he had lent,
taking, in fact, whatever they brought him without discussion; hence the sobriquet of 
pu liang, no measure (i.e., the man who doesnt measure the repayments of his 
loans).1 After that, they all proceeded in a body to the fields, where it was discovered 
that vast damage had been done to the crops generally, with the exception of Chang 
Pu-liangs, which had escaped uninjured. 

 

1 Here again we have a play upon words similar to that in the last story. 


C. THE DUTCH CARPET 

FORMERLY, when the Red Heads[1] were permitted to trade with China, the 
officer in command of the coast defences would not allow them, on account of their 
great numbers, to come ashore. The Dutch begged very hard for the [p. 372] grant of a 
piece of land such as a carpet would cover; and the officer above-mentioned, thinking 
that this could not be very large, acceded to their request. A carpet was accordingly 
laid down, big enough for about two people to stand on; but by dint of stretching, it 
was soon enough for four or five; and so they went on, stretching and stretching, until 
at last it covered about an acre, and by-and-by, with the help of their knives, they had 
filched a piece of ground several miles in extent.2 

 

1 We read in the History of Amoy:In the year 1622 the red-haired barbarians 
seized the Pescadores and attacked Amoy. From the Pescadores they finally retired, 
on a promise that trade would be permitted, to Formosa, whence they were expelled by 
the famous Koxinga in 1662. Red-haired barbarians, a term now commonly applied 
to all foreigners, was first used in the records of the Ming dynasty to designate the 
Dutch. 

2 Our author would here seem to have heard of the famous bulls hide which is 
mentioned in the first book of the Aeneid. In any case, the substitution of stretching 
is no improvement on the celebrated device by which the bulls hide was made to 
enclose so large a space. 

CI. CARRYING A CORPSE 

A WOODSMAN who had been to market was returning home with his pole 
across his shoulder,1 when suddenly he felt it become very heavy at the end behind 
him, and looking round he saw attached to it the headless trunk of a man. In great 
alarm, he got his pole quit of the burden and struck about him right and left, 
whereupon the body disappeared. He then hurried on to the next village, and when he 
arrived there in the dusk of the evening, he found several men holding lights to the 
ground as if looking for something. On asking what was the matter, they told him that 
while sitting together a mans head had fallen from the sky into their midst; that they 
had noticed the hair and beard were all draggled, but in a moment the head had 
vanished. The woodsman then related what had happened to himself; and thus one 
whole man was accounted for, though no one could tell whence he came. 
Subsequently, another man was carrying a basket when some one saw a mans head 
in it, and called out to him; whereupon he dropped the basket in a fright, and the 
head rolled away and disappeared. [p. 373] 

 

1 The common method of porterage in China is by a bamboo pole over the 
shoulder with well-balanced burdens hanging from each end. I have often seen 
children carried thus, sitting in wicker baskets; sometimes for long journeys. 

CII. A TAOIST DEVOTEE 

CH YAO-JU was a Ching-chou man, who, when his wife died, left his home 
and became a priest.1 Some years afterwards he returned, dressed in the Taoist garb, 


and carrying his praying-mat[2] over his shoulder; and after staying one night he 
wanted to go away again. His friends, however, would not give him back his cassock 
and staff; so at length he pretended to take a stroll outside the village, and when there, 
his clothes and other belongings came flying out of the house after him, and he got 
safely away. 

 

1 It would be more usual to renew the guitar string, as the Chinese idiom 
runs. In the paraphrase of the first maxim of the Sacred Edict we are told that The 
closest of all ties is that of husband and wife; but suppose your wife dies, why, you 
can marry another. But if your brother were to die, &c. &c. 

2 This, as well as the staff mentioned below, belongs to Buddhism. See No. IV., 
note 1. 

CIII. JUSTICE FOR REBELS 

DURING the reign of Shun Chih,1 of the people of Tng-i, seven in ten were 
opposed to the Manchu dynasty. The officials dared not touch them; and subsequently, 
when the country became more settled, the magistrates used to distinguish them from 
the others by always deciding any cases in their favour: for they feared lest these men 
should revert to their old opposition. And thus it came about that one litigant would 
begin by declaring himself to have been a rebel, while his adversary would follow up 
by showing such statement to be false; so that before any case could be heard on its 
actual merits, it was necessary to determine the status both of plaintiff and defendant, 
whereby infinite labour was entailed upon the Registrars. 

Now it chanced that the yamn of one of the officials was haunted by a fox, and 
the officials daughter was bewitched by it. Her father, therefore, engaged the services 
of a magician, who succeeded in capturing the animal and putting it into a bottle; but 
just as he was going to commit [p. 374] it to the flames, the fox cried out from inside 
the bottle, Im a rebel at which the bystanders were unable to suppress their 
laughter. 

 

1 The first Manchu ruler of the Empire of China. He came to the throne in A.D. 
1644. 

 

Section 4: Stories 104-164 and Appendices 

 


STRANGE STORIES FROM A CHINESE STUDIO 

by Pu Sung-ling 

 

Section 4 

 

Title Page, Table of Contents, and Introductions 

Section 1: Stories 1-25 

Section 2: Stories 26-57 

Section 3: Stories 58-103 

CIV. THEFT OF THE PEACH 

WHEN I was a little boy I went one day to the prefectural city.1 It was the time 
of the Spring festival,2 and the custom, was that on the day before, all the merchants 
of the place should proceed with banners and drums to the judges yamn: this was 
called bringing in the Spring. I went with a friend to see the fun; the crowd was 
immense, and there sat the officials in crimson robes arranged right and left in the 
hall; but I was small and didnt know who they were, my attention being attracted 
chiefly by the hum of voices and the noise of the drums. 

In the middle of it all, a man leading a boy with his hair unplaited and hanging 
down his back walked up to the dais. He carried a pole on his shoulder, and appeared 
to be saying something which I couldnt hear for the noise; I only saw the officials 
smile, and immediately afterwards an attendant came down, and in a loud voice 
ordered the man to give a performance. What shall it be? asked the man in reply; 
whereupon, after some consultation between the officials on the dais, the attendant 
inquired what he could do best. The man said he could invert the order of nature; and 
then, after another pause, he was instructed to produce some peaches; to this he 
assented; and taking off his coat, laid it on his box, at the same time observing that 
they had set him a hard task, the winter frost not having broken up, and adding that 
he was afraid the gentlemen would be angry with him, &c., &c. His son here reminded 
him that he had agreed to the task and couldnt well get out of it; so, after fretting and 
grumbling awhile, he cried out, I have it! with snow on the ground we shall never get 
peaches here; but I guess there are some up in heaven in the Royal Mothers garden[3] 
and there we must try. [p. 375] 

How are we to get up, father? asked the boy; whereupon the man said, I have 
the means, and immediately proceeded to take from his box a cord some tens of feet 
in length. This he carefully arranged, and then threw one end of it high up into the air, 
where it remained as if caught by something. He now paid out the rope, which kept 
going up higher and higher until the end he had thrown up disappeared in the clouds 
and only a short piece was left in his hands. Calling his son, he then explained that he 
himself was too heavy, and, handing him the end of the rope, bade him go up at once: 
The boy, however, made some difficulty, objecting that the rope was too thin to bear 
his weight up to such a height, and that he would surely fall down and be killed; upon 
which his father said that his promise had been given and that repentance was now 
too late, adding that if the peaches were obtained they would surely be rewarded with 
a hundred ounces of silver, which should be set aside to get the boy a pretty wife. So 
his son seized the rope and swarmed up, like a spider running up a thread of its web; 


and in a few moments he was out of sight in the clouds. By-and-by down fell a peach 
as large as a basin, which the delighted father handed up to his patrons on the dais, 
who were some time coming to a conclusion whether it was real or imitation. 

But just then down came the rope with a run, and the affrighted father shrieked 
out, Alas! alas! some one has cut the rope: what will my boy do now? and in another 
minute down fell something else, which was found on examination to be his sons 
head. Ah me said he, weeping bitterly and showing the head; the gardener has 
caught him, and my boy is no more. After that, his arms, and legs, and body, all 
came down in like manner; and the father, gathering them up, put them in the box 
and said, This was my only son, who accompanied me everywhere; and now what a 
cruel fate is his. I must away and bury him. 

He then approached the dais and said, Your peach, gentlemen, was obtained at 
the cost of my boys life; help me now to pay his funeral expenses, [p. 376] and I will 
be ever grateful to you. The officials, who had been watching the scene in horror and 
amazement, forthwith collected a good purse for him; and when he had received the 
money, he rapped on his box and said, Pa-parh! why dont you come out and thank 
the gentlemen? Thereupon, there was a thump on the box from the inside, and up 
came the boy himself, who jumped out and bowed to the assembled company. I have 
never forgotten this strange trick, which I subsequently heard could be done by the 
White Lily sect,4 who probably got it from this source.5 

 

1 It is worth noting that the author professes actually to have witnessed the 
following extraordinary scene. 

2 The vernal equinox, which would fall on or about the 20th of March. 

3 A fabulous lady said to reside at the summit of the Kun-lun mountain, where, 
on the border of the Gem Lake, grows the peach-tree of the Gods, the fruit of which 
confers immortality on him who eats it. For her identification with Juno, see 
Adversaria Sinica, No. I, 1905. 

4 One of the most celebrated of the numerous secret societies of China, the 
origin of which dates back to about A.D. 1350. Its members have always been credited 
with a knowledge of the black art. 

5 Of Chinese jugglers, Ibn Batuta writes as follows:They produced a chain 
fifty cubits in length, and in my presence threw one end of it towards the sky, where it 
remained, as if fastened to something in the air. A dog was then brought forward, and, 
being placed at the lower end of the chain, immediately ran up, and reaching the other 
end immediately disappeared in the air. In the same manner a hog, a panther, a lion, 
and a tiger were alternately sent up the chain, and all equally disappeared at the 
upper end of it. At last they took down the chain, and put it into a bag, no one ever 
discerning in what way the different animals were made to vanish into the air in the 
mysterious manner above described. This, I may venture to affirm, was beyond 
measure strange and surprising. 

 propos of which passage, Mr. Maskelyne, the prince of all black-artists, 
ancient or modern, says:These apparent effects were, doubtless, due to the aid of 
concave mirrors, the use of which was known to the ancients, especially in the East, 
but they could not have been produced in the open air. 


CV. KILLING A SERPENT 

AT Ku-chi island in the eastern sea, there were camellias of all colours which 
bloomed throughout the year. No one, however, lived there, and very few people ever 
visited the spot. One day, a young man of Tng-chou, named Chang, who was fond of 
hunting and adventure, hearing of the beauties of the place, put together some wine 
and food, and rowed himself across in a small open boat. The flowers were just then 
even finer than usual, and their perfume was diffused for a mile or so around; while 
many of the [p. 377] trees he saw were several armfuls in circumference. So he roamed 
about and gave himself up to enjoyment of the scene; and by-and-by he opened a flask 
of wine, regretting very much that he had no companion to share it with him, when all 
of a sudden a most beautiful young girl, with extremely bright eyes, and dressed in red, 
stepped down from one of the camellias before him.[1] Dear me! said she, on seeing 
Mr. Chang; I expected to be alone here, and was not aware that the place was already 
occupied. Chang was somewhat alarmed by this apparition, and asked the young 
lady whence she came; to which she replied that her name was Chiao-chang, and that 
she had accompanied thither a Mr. Hai, who had gone off for a stroll and had left her 
to await his return. Thereupon Chang begged her to join him in a cup of wine, which 
she very willingly did, and they were just beginning to enjoy themselves when a sound 
of rushing wind was heard, and the trees and plants bent beneath it. Heres Mr. Hai! 
cried the young lady; and jumping quickly up, disappeared in a moment. 

The horrified Chang now beheld a huge serpent coming out of the bushes near 
by, and immediately ran behind a large tree for shelter, hoping the reptile would not 
see him. But the serpent advanced and enveloped both Chang and the tree in its great 
folds, binding Changs arms down to his sides so as to prevent him from moving them; 
and then raising its head, darted out its tongue and bit the poor mans nose, causing 
the blood to flow freely out. This blood it was quietly sucking up, when Chang, who 
thought that his last hour had come, remembered that he had in his pocket some fox 
poison and managing to insert a couple of fingers, he drew out the packet, broke the 
paper, and let the powder lie in the palm of his hand. He next leaned his hand over the 
serpents coils in such a way that the blood from his nose dripped into his hand, and 
when it was nearly full the serpent actually did begin to drink it. And in a few 
moments the grip was relaxed; the serpent struck the ground heavily with its tail, and 
dashed away up against another tree, which was broken in half, and then stretched 
itself out and died. Chang was a long time unable to rise, but at length he got up and 
carried the serpent off [p. 378] with him. He was very ill for more than a month 
afterwards, and even suspected the young lady of being a serpent, too, in disguise. 

 

1 See No. LXXI., note 6. 

CVI. THE RESUSCITATED CORPSE 

A CERTAIN old man lived at Tsai-tien, in the Yang-hsin district. The village was 
some miles from the district city, and he and his son kept a roadside inn where 
travellers could pass the night. One day, as it was getting dusk, four strangers 
presented themselves and asked for a nights lodging; to which the landlord replied 
that every bed was already occupied. The four men declared it was impossible for them 
to go back, and urged him to take them in somehow; and at length the landlord said 
he could give them a place to sleep in if they were not too particular,which the 


strangers immediately assured him they were not. The fact was that the old mans 
daughter-in-law had just died, and that her body was lying in the womens quarters, 
waiting for the coffin, which his son had gone away to buy. So the landlord led them 
round thither, and walking in, placed a lamp on the table. At the further end of the 
room lay the corpse, decked out with paper robes, &c., in the usual way; and in the 
foremost section were sleeping couches for four people. The travellers were tired, and 
throwing themselves on the beds, were soon snoring loudly, with the exception of one 
of them, who was not quite off when suddenly he heard a creaking of the trestles on 
which the dead body was laid out, and opening his eyes, he saw by the light of the 
lamp in front of the corpse that the girl was raising the coverings from her and 
preparing to get down. In another moment she was on the floor and advancing 
towards the sleepers. Her face was of a light yellow hue, and she had a silk kerchief 
round her head; and when she reached the beds, she blew on the other three 
travellers, whereupon the fourth, in a great fright, stealthily drew up the bed-clothes 
over his face, and held his breath to listen. He heard her breathe on him as she had 
done on the others, and then heard her go back again and get under the paper robes, 
which rustled distinctly as she did so. 

He [p. 379] now put out his head to take a peep, and saw that she was lying 
down as before; whereupon, not daring to make any noise, he stretched forth his foot 
and kicked his companions, who, however, showed no signs of moving. He now 
determined to put on his clothes and make a bolt for it; but he had hardly begun to do 
so before he heard the creaking sound again, which sent him back under the bed-
clothes as fast as he could go. Again the girl came to him, and, breathing several times 
on him, went away to lie down as before, as he could tell by the noise of the trestles. 

He then put his hand very gently out of bed, and, seizing his trousers, got 
quickly into them, jumped up with a bound, and rushed out of the place as fast as his 
legs would carry him. The corpse, too, jumped up; but by this time the traveller had 
already drawn the bolt, and was outside the door, running along and shrieking at the 
top of his voice, with the corpse following close behind. No one seemed to hear him, 
and he was afraid to knock at the door of the inn for fear they should not let him in in 
time; so he made for the highway to the city, and after awhile he saw a monastery by 
the roadside, and, hearing the wooden fish,[1] he ran up and thumped with all his 
might at the gate. The priest, however, did not know what to make of it, and would not 
open to him; and as the corpse was only a few yards off, he could do nothing but run 
behind a tree which stood close by, and there shelter himself, dodging to the right as 
the corpse dodged to the left, and so on. This infuriated the dead girl to madness; and 
at length, as tired and panting they stood watching each other on opposite sides of the 
tree, the corpse made a rush forward with one arm on each side in the hope of thus 
grabbing its victim. The traveller, however, fell backwards and escaped, while the 
corpse remained rigidly embracing the tree. 

By-and-by the priest, who had been listening from the inside, hearing no 
sounds for some time, came out and found the traveller lying senseless on the ground; 
whereupon he had him carried into the monastery, and by morning they had got him 
round [p. 380] again. After giving him a little broth to drink, he related the whole story; 
and then in the early dawn they went out to examine the tree, to which they found the 
girl tightly fixed. 

The news being sent to the magistrate, that functionary attended at once in 
person,2 and gave orders to remove the body; but this they were at first unable to do, 


the girls fingers having penetrated into the bark so far that her nails were not to be 
seen. At length they got her away, and then a messenger was despatched to the inn, 
already in a state of great commotion over the three travellers, who had been found 
dead in their beds. The old man accordingly sent to fetch his daughter-in-law; and the 
surviving traveller petitioned the magistrate, saying, Four of us left home, but only 
one will go back. Give me something that I may show to my fellow-townsmen. So the 
magistrate gave him a certificate and sent him home again.3 

 

1 This instrument, used by Buddhist priests in the musical accompaniment to 
their liturgies, is said to be so called because a fish never closes its eyes, and is 
therefore a fit model of vigilance to him who would walk in the paths of holiness and 
virtue. 

2 The duties of Coroner belong to the office of a District Magistrate in China. 

3 Without such certificate he would be liable to be involved in trouble and 
annoyance at the will of any unfriendly neighbour. 

CVII. THE FISHERMAN AND HIS FRIEND 

IN the northern parts of Tz.-chou there lived a man named Hs, a fisherman 
by trade. Every night when he went to fish, he would carry some wine with him, and 
drink and fish by turns, always taking care to pour out a libation on the ground, 
accompanied by the following invocation Drink too, ye drowned spirits of the river! 
Such was his regular custom; and it was also noticeable that, even on occasions when 
the other fishermen caught nothing, he always got a full basket. 

One night, as he was sitting drinking by himself, a young man suddenly 
appeared and began walking up and down near him. Hs offered him a cup of wine, 
which was readily accepted, and they remained chatting together throughout the night, 
Hs meanwhile not catching a single fish. However, just as he was giving up all hope 
of doing anything, the young man rose and said he would go a little way down the 
stream and beat them up towards list, which he accordingly did, returning in a few 
minutes and warning him to be on the [p. 381] look-out. Hs now heard a noise like 
that of a shoal coming up the stream, and, casting his net, made a splendid haul,all 
that he caught being over a foot in length. Greatly delighted, he now prepared to go 
home, first offering his companion a share of the fish, which the latter declined, saying 
that he had often received kindnesses from Mr. Hs, and that he would be only too 
happy to help him regularly in the same manner if Mr. Hs would accept his 
assistance. The latter replied that he did not recollect ever meeting him before, and 
that he should be much obliged for any aid the young man might choose to afford him, 
regretting, at the same time, his inability to make him any adequate return. He then 
asked the young man his name and surname; and the young man said his surname 
was Wang, adding that Hs might address him when they met as Wang Liu-Lang, he 
having no other name. 

Thereupon they parted, and the next day Hs sold his fish and bought some 
more wine, with which he repaired as usual to the river-bank. There he found his 
companion already awaiting him, and they spent the night together in precisely the 
same way as the preceding one, the young man beating up the fish for him as before. 

This went on for some months, until at length one evening the young man, with 


many expressions of his thanks and his regrets, told Hs that they were about to part 
for ever. Much alarmed by the melancholy tone in which his friend had communicated 
this news, Hs was on the point of asking for an explanation, when the young man 
stopped him, and himself proceeded as follows:The friendship that has grown up 
between us is truly surprising, and, now that we shall meet no more, there is no harm 
in telling you the whole truth. I am a disembodied spiritthe soul of one who was 
drowned in this river when tipsy. I have been here many years, and your former 
success in fishing was due to the fact that I used secretly to beat up the fish towards 
you, in return for the libations you were accustomed to pour out. Tomorrow my time is 
up: my substitute will arrive, and I shall be born again in the world of mortals.1 We 
have but this one evening left, and I therefore take advantage of it to express my 
feelings to you. On hearing these words, Hs was at [p. 382] first very much alarmed; 
however, he had grown so accustomed to his friends society, that his fears soon 
passed away; and, filling up a goblet, he said, with a sigh, Liu-lang, old fellow, drink 
this up, and away with melancholy. Its hard to lose you; but Im glad enough for your 
sake, and wont think of my own sorrow. He then inquired of Liu-lang who was to be 
his substitute; to which the latter replied, Come to the river-bank to-morrow 
afternoon and youll see a woman drowned: she is the one. Just then the village cocks 
began to crow, and, with tears in their eyes, the two friends bade each other farewell. 

Next day Hs waited on the river-bank to see if anything would happen, and lo! 
a woman carrying a child in her arms came along. When close to the edge of the river, 
she stumbled and fell into the water, managing, however, to throw the child safely on 
to the bank, where it lay kicking and sprawling and crying at the top of its voice. The 
woman herself sank and rose several times, until at last she succeeded in clutching 
hold of the bank and pulled herself, dripping, out; and then, after resting awhile, she 
picked up the child and went on her way. All this time Hs had been in a great state of 
excitement, and was on the point of running to help the woman out of the water; but 
he remembered that she was to be the substitute of his friend, and accordingly 
restrained himself from doing so.2 Then when he saw the woman get out by herself, [p. 
383] he began to suspect that Liu-langs words had not been fulfilled. 

That night he went to fish as usual, and before long the young man arrived and 
said, We meet once again: there is no need now to speak of separation. Hs asked 
him how it was so; to which he replied, The woman you saw had already taken my 
place, but I could not bear to hear the child cry, and I saw that my one life would be 
purchased at the expense of their two lives, wherefore I let her go, and now I cannot 
say when I shall have another chance.3 The union of our destinies may not yet be 
worked out. Alas! sighed Hs, this noble conduct of yours is enough to move God 
Almighty. 

After this the two friends went on much as they had done before, until one day 
Liu-lang again said he had come to bid Hs farewell. Hs thought he had found 
another substitute, but Liu-lang told him that his former behaviour had so pleased 
Almighty Heaven, that he had been appointed guardian angel of Wu-chen, in the 
Chao-yan district, and that on the following morning he would start for his new post. 
And if you do not forget the days of our friendship, added he, I pray you come and 
see me, in spite of the long journey. Truly, replied Hs, you well deserved to be 
made a God; but the paths of Gods and men lie in different directions, and even if the 
distance were nothing, how should I manage to meet you again? Dont be afraid on 
that score, said Liu-lang, but come; and then he went away, and Hs returned 


home. 

The latter immediately began to prepare for the journey, which caused his wife 
to laugh at him and say, Supposing you do find such a place at the end of that long 
journey, you wont be able to hold a conversation with a clay image. Hs, however, 
paid no attention to her remarks, and [p. 384] travelled straight to Chao-yuan, where 
he learned from the inhabitants that there really was a village called Wu-chn, whither 
he forthwith proceeded and took up his abode at an inn. 

He then inquired of the landlord where the village temple was; to which the 
latter replied by asking him somewhat hurriedly if he was speaking to Mr. Hs. Hs 
informed him that his name was Hs, asking in reply how he came to know it; 
whereupon the landlord further inquired if his native place was not Tzu-chou. Hs 
told him it it was, and again asked him how he knew all this; to which the landlord 
made no answer, but rushed out of the room; and in a few moments the place was 
crowded with old and young, men, women, and children, all come to visit Hs. They 
then told him that a few nights before they had seen their guardian deity in a vision, 
and he had informed them that Mr. Hs would shortly arrive, and had bidden them to 
provide him with travelling expenses, &c. Hs was very much astonished at this, and 
went off at once to the shrine, where he invoked his friend as follows:Ever since we 
parted I have had you daily and nightly in my thoughts; and now that I have fulfilled 
my promise of coming to see you, I have to thank you for the orders you have issued to 
the people of the place. As for me, I have nothing to offer you but a cup of wine, which 
I pray you accept as though we were drinking together on the river-bank. He then 
burnt a quantity of paper money,4 when lo! a wind suddenly arose, which, after 
whirling round and round behind the shrine, soon dropped, and all was still. That 
night Hs dreamed that his friend came to him, dressed in his official cap and robes, 
and very different in appearance from what he used to be, and thanked him, saying, 
It is truly kind of you to visit me thus: I only regret that my position makes me unable 
to meet you face to face, and that though near we are still so far. The people here will 
give you a trifle, which pray accept for my sake; and when you go away, I will see you 
a short way on your journey. 

A few days afterwards Hs prepared to start, in spite of the numerous 
invitations to stay which poured in upon him from all sides; and then the inhabitants 
loaded him with presents of all kinds, and escorted him out of the pillage. There a 
whirlwind arose and accompanied him several miles, when he turned round [p. 385] 
and invoked his friend thus:Liu-lang, take care of your valued person. Do not 
trouble yourself to come any farther.5 Your noble heart will ensure happiness to this 
district, and there is no occasion for me to give a word of advice to my old friend. By-
and-by the whirlwind ceased, and the villagers, who were much astonished, returned 
to their own homes. 

Hs, too, travelled homewards, and being now a man of some means, ceased to 
work any more as a fisherman. And whenever he met a Chao-yuan man he would ask 
him about that guardian angel, being always informed in reply that he was a most 
beneficent God. Some say the place was Shih-kng-chuang, in Chang-chin: I cant 
say which it was myself. 

 

1 See No. XLV., note 8. 


2 We have in this story the keynote to the notorious and much-to-be-
deprecated dislike of the Chinese people to assist in saving the lives of drowning 
strangers. Some of our readers may, perhaps, not be aware that the Government of 
Hong-Kong has found it necessary to insert a clause on the junk-clearances issued in 
that colony, by which the junkmen are bound to assist to the utmost in saving life. 
The apparent apathy of the Chinese in this respect comes before us, however, in quite 
a different light when coupled with the superstition that disembodied spirits of 
persons who have met a violent death may return to the world of mortals if only 
fortunate enough to secure a substitute. For among the crowd of shades, anxious all 
to revisit their sweet sons, may perchance be some dear relative or friend of the man 
who stands calmly by while another is drowning and it may be that to assist the 
drowning stranger would be to take the longed-for chance away from ones own kith 
and kin. Therefore, the superstition-ridden Chinaman turns away, often perhaps, as 
in the story before us, with feelings of pity and remorse. And yet this belief has not 
prevented the establishment, especially on the river Yang-tsze, of institutions provided 
with lifeboats, for the express purpose of saving life in those dangerous waters; so true 
is it that when the Chinese people wish to move en masse in any given direction, the 
fragile barrier of superstition is trampled down and scattered to the winds. 

3 As there are good and bad foxes, so may devils be beneficent or malicious 
according to circumstances and Chinese apologists for the discourtesy of the term 
foreign devils, as applied to Europeans and Americans alike, have gone so far as to 
declare that in this particular instance the allusion is to the more virtuous among the 
denizens of the Infernal Regions. 

4 See No. XCVII, note 7. 

5 A phrase constantly repeated, in other terms, by a guest to a host who is 
politely escorting him to the door. 

CVIII. THE PRIESTS WARNING 

A MAN named Chang died suddenly, and was escorted at once by devil-lictors[1] 
into the presence of the King of Purgatory. His Majesty turned to Changs record of 
good and evil, and then, in great anger, told the lictors they had brought the wrong 
man, and bade them take him back again. As they left the judgment-hall, Chang 
persuaded his escort to let him have a look at Purgatory; and, accordingly, the devils 
conducted him through the nine sections,2 pointing out to him the Knife Hill,3 the 
Sword Tree, and other objects of interest. 

By-and-by, they reached a place where there was a Buddhist priest, hanging 
suspended in the air head downwards, by a rope through a hole in his leg. He was 
shrieking with pain, and longing for death; and when Chang approached, lo! he saw 
that it was his own brother. In great distress, he asked his guides the reason of this 
punishment; and they informed him that the priest was suffering thus for collecting 
subscriptions on behalf of his order, and then [p. 386] privately squandering the 
proceeds in gambling and debauchery.4 Nor, added they, will he escape this 
torment unless he repents him of his misdeeds. When Chang came round,5 he 
thought his brother was already dead, and hurried off to the Hsing-fu monastery, to 
which the latter belonged. As he went in at the door, he heard a loud shrieking; and, 
on proceeding to his brothers room, he found him laid up with a very bad abscess in 
his leg, the leg itself being tied up above him to the wall, this being, as his brother 


informed him, the only bearable position in which he could lie. Chang now told him 
what he had seen in Purgatory, at which the priest was so terrified, that he at once 
gave up taking wine and meat,6 and devoted himself entirely to religious exercises. In 
a fortnight he was well, and was known ever afterwards as a most exemplary priest. 

 

1 The spiritual lictors who are supposed to arrest the souls of dying persons are 
also believed to be armed with warrants signed and sealed in due form as in the world 
above. 

2 Literally, the nine dark places, which will remind readers of Dante of the 
nine bolgie of the Inferno. 

3 This is a cliff over which sinners are hurled, to alight upon the upright points 
of knives below. The branches of the Sword Tree are sharp blades which cut and hack 
all who pass within reach. 

4 Crimes by no means unknown to the clergy of China. 

5 That is, when the lictors had returned his soul to its tenement. 

6 See No. VI., note 2. 

CIX. METEMPSYCHOSIS 

MR. LIN, who took his masters degree in the same year as the late Mr. Wn Pi,1 
could remember what had happened to him in his previous state of existence, and 
once told the whole story, as follows:I was originally of a good family, but, after 
leading a very dissolute life, I died at the age of sixty-two. On being conducted into the 
presence of the King of Purgatory, he received me civilly, bade me be seated, and 
offered me a cup of tea. I noticed, however, that the tea in His Majestys cup was clear 
and limpid, while that in my own was muddy, like the lees of wine. It then flashed 
across me that this was the potion which was given to all disembodied spirits to 
render them oblivious of the past:2 and, accordingly, when the King was looking [p. 
387] the other way, I seized the opportunity of pouring it under the table, pretending 
afterwards that I had drunk it all up. 

My record of good and evil was now presented for inspection, and when the 
King saw what it was, he flew into a great passion, and ordered the attendant devils to 
drag me away, and send me back to earth as a horse. I was immediately seized and 
bound, and the devils carried me off to a house, the door-sill of which was so high I 
could not step over it. While I was trying to do so, the devils behind lashed me with all 
their might, causing me such pain that I made a great spring, andlo and behold! I 
was a horse in a stable. The mare has got a nice colt, I then heard a man call out; 
but, although I was perfectly aware of all that was passing, I could say nothing myself. 
Hunger now came upon me, and I was glad to be suckled by the mare; and by the end 
of four or five years I had grown into a fine strong horse, dreadfully afraid of the whip, 
and running away at the very sight of it. When my master rode me, it was always with 
a saddle cloth, and at a leisurely pace, which was bearable enough; but when the 
servants mounted me barebacked, and dug their heels into me, the pain struck into 
my vitals; and at length I refused all food, and in three days I died. 

Reappearing before the King of Purgatory, His Majesty was enraged to find that 
I had thus tried to shirk working out my time; and, flaying me forthwith, condemned 


me to go back again as a dog. And when I did not move, the devils came behind me 
and lashed me until I ran away from them into the open country, where, thinking I 
had better die right off, I jumped over a cliff, and lay at the bottom unable to move. I 
then saw that I was among a litter of puppies, and that an old bitch was licking and 
suckling me by turns; whereby I knew that I was once more among mortals. In this 
hateful form I continued for some time, longing to kill myself, and yet fearing to incur 
the penalty of shirking. 

At length, I purposely bit my master in the leg, and tore him badly; whereupon 
he had me destroyed, and I was taken again into the presence of the King, who was so 
displeased with my vicious behaviour that he condemned me to become a snake, and 
shut me up in a dark room, where I could see nothing. After a while I managed to 
climb up the wall, bore a hole [p. 388] in the roof, and escape; and immediately I 
found myself lying in the grass, a veritable snake. Then I registered a vow that I would 
harm no living thing, and I lived for some years, feeding upon berries and suchlike, 
ever remembering neither to take my own life, nor by injuring any one to incite them 
to take it, but longing all the while for the happy release, which did not come to me. 
One day, as I was sleeping in the grass, I heard the noise of a passing cart, and, on 
trying to get across the road out of its way, I was caught by the wheel, and cut in two. 
The King was astonished to see me back so soon, but I humbly told my story, and, in 
pity for the innocent creature that loses its life, he pardoned me, and permitted me to 
be born again at my appointed time as a human being. 

Such was Mr. Lins story. He could speak as soon as he came into the world; 
and could repeat anything he had once read. In the year 1621 he took his masters 
degree, and was never tired of telling people to put saddle-cloths on their horses, and 
recollect that the pain of being gripped by the knees is even worse than the lash itself. 

 

1 In A.D. 1621. 

2 According to the Y li chao (see Appendix, l0th Court), this potion is 
administered by an old beldame, named Mother Mng, who sits upon the Terrace of 
Oblivion. Whether they swallow much or little it matters not; but sometimes there are 
perverse devils who altogether refuse to drink. Then beneath their feet sharp blades 
start up, and a copper tube is forced down their throats, by which means they are 
compelled to swallow some. 

CX. THE FORTY STRINGS OF CASH 

MR. JUSTICE WANG had a steward, who was possessed of considerable means. 
One night the latter dreamt that a man rushed in and said to him, To-day you must 
repay me those forty strings of cash. The steward asked who he was; to which the 
man made no answer, but hurried past him into the womens apartments. When the 
steward awoke, he found that his wife had been delivered of a son; and, knowing at 
once that retribution was at hand, he set aside forty strings of cash to be spent solely 
in food, clothes, medicines, and so on, for the baby. By the time the child was between 
three and four years old, the steward found that of the forty strings only about seven 
hundred cash remained; and when the wet-nurse, who happened to be standing by, 
brought the child and dandled it in her arms before him, he looked at it and said, The 
forty strings are all but repaid; it is time you were off again. Thereupon the child 
changed colour; its head fell back, [p. 389] and its eyes stared fixedly, and, when they 


tried to revive it, lo! respiration had already ceased. The father then took the balance 
of the forty strings, and with it defrayed the childs funeral expensestruly a warning 
to people to be sure and pay their debts. 

Formerly, an old childless man consulted a great many Buddhist priests on the 
subject. One of them said to him, If you owe no one anything, and no one owes you 
anything, how can you expect to have children? A good son is the repayment of a 
former debt; a bad son is a dunning creditor, at whose birth there is no rejoicing, at 
whose death no lamentations. 

 

1 And such is actually the prevalent belief in China to this day. 

CXI. SAVING LIFE 

A CERTAIN gentleman of Shn-yu, who had taken the highest degree, could 
remember himself in a previous state of existence. He said he had formerly been a 
scholar, and had died in middle life; and that when he appeared before the judge of 
Purgatory, there stood the cauldrons, the boiling oil, and other apparatus of torture, 
exactly as we read about them on earth. In the eastern corner of the hall were a 
number of frames from which hung the skins of sheep, dogs, oxen, horses, &c.; and 
when anybody was condemned to reappear in life under any one of these forms, his 
skin was stripped off and a skin was taken from the proper frame and fixed on to his 
body. The gentleman of whom I am writing heard himself sentenced to become a sheep; 
and the attendant devils had already clothed him in a sheeps skin in the manner 
above described, when the clerk of the record informed the Judge that the criminal 
before him had once saved another mans life. The judge consulted his books, and 
forthwith cried out, I pardon him; for although his sins have been many, this one act 
has redeemed them all. The devils then tried to take off the sheeps skin, but it was so 
tightly stuck on him [p. 390] that they couldn't move it. However, after great efforts, 
and causing the gentleman most excruciating agony, they managed to tear it off bit by 
bit, though not quite so cleanly as one might have wished. In fact, a piece as big as the 
palm of a man's hand was left near his shoulder; and when he was born again into the 
world, there was a great patch of hair on his back, which grew again as fast as it was 
cut off. 

 

1 Note 2 to No. CVII, should be read here. To save life is indeed the bounden 
duty of every good Buddhist, for which he will be proportionately rewarded in the 
world to come. 

CXII. THE SALT SMUGGLER 

WANG SHIH, of Kao-wan, a petty salt huckster, was inordinately fond of 
gambling. One night he was arrested by two men, whom he took for lictors of the Salt 
Gabelle; and, flinging down what salt he had with him, he tried to make his escape.1 
He found, however, that his legs would not move with him, and he was forthwith 
seized and bound. "We are not sent by the Salt Commissioner," cried his captors, in 
reply to an entreaty to set him free; "we are the devil-constables of Purgatory." Wang 
was horribly frightened at this, and begged the devils to let him bid farewell to his wife 
and children; but this they refused to do, saying, "You aren't going to die; you are only 


wanted for a little job there is down below." Wang asked what the job was; to which 
the devils replied, "A new Judge has come into office, and, finding the river[2] and the 
eighteen hells choked up with the bodies of sinners, he [p. 391] has determined to 
employ three classes of mortals to clean them out. These are thieves, unlicensed 
founders,3 and unlicensed dealers in salt, and, for the dirtiest work of all, he is going 
to take musicians.4 

Wang accompanied the devils until at length they reached a city, where he was 
brought before the Judge, who was sitting in his judgment-hall. On turning up his 
record in the books, one of the devils explained that the prisoner had been arrested for 
unlicensed trading; whereupon the judge became very angry, and said, Those who 
drive an illicit trade in salt, not only defraud the State of its proper revenue, but also 
prey upon the livelihood of the people. Those, however, whom the greedy officials and 
corrupt traders of today denounce as unlicensed traders, are among the most virtuous 
of mankindneedy unfortunates who struggle to save a few cash in the purchase of 
their pint of salt.5 Are they your unlicensed traders? The Judge then bade the lictors 
buy four pecks of salt, and send it to Wangs house for him, together with that which 
had been found upon him; and, at the same time, he gave Wang an iron scourge, and 
told him to superintend the works at the river. 

So Wang followed the devils, and [p. 392] found the river swarming with people 
like ants in an ant-hill. The water was turbid and red, the stench from it being almost 
unbearable, while those who were employed in cleaning it out were working there 
naked. Sometimes they would sink down in the horrid mass of decaying bodies: 
sometimes they would get lazy, and then the iron scourge was applied to their backs. 
The assistant-superintendents had small scented balls, which they held in their 
mouths. Wang himself approached the bank, and saw the licensed salt-merchant of 
Kao-wan[6] in the midst of it all, and thrashed him well with his scourge, until he was 
afraid he would never come up again. This went on for three days and three nights, by 
which time half the workmen were dead, and the work completed; whereupon the 
same two devils escorted him home again, and then he waked up. 

As a matter of fact, Wang had gone out to sell some salt, and had not come 
back. Next morning, when his wife opened the house door, she found two bags of salt 
in the court-yard; and, as her husband did not return, she sent off some people to 
search for him, and they discovered him lying senseless by the wayside. He was 
immediately conveyed home, where, after a little time, he recovered consciousness and 
related what had taken place. Strange to say, the licensed salt-merchant had fallen 
down in a fit on the previous evening, and had only just recovered; and Wang, hearing 
that his body was covered with soresthe result of the beating with the iron scourge
went off to his house to see him; however, directly the wretched man set eyes on Wang, 
he hastily covered himself up with the bed-clothes, forgetting that they were no longer 
at the infernal river. He did not recover from his injuries for a year, after which he 
retired from trade. 

 

1 Salt is a Government monopoly in China, and its sale is only permitted to 
licensed dealers. It is a contraband article of commerce, whether for impart or export, 
to foreign nations trading with China. In an account of a journey from Swatow to 
Canton in March-April, 1877, I wrote: " propos of salt, we came across a good-sized 
bunker of it when stowing away our things in the space below the deck. The boatmen 


could not resist the temptation of doing a little smuggling on the way up. . . . At a 
secluded point in a bamboo-shaded bend of the river, they ran the boat alongside the 
bank, and were instantly met by a number of suspicious-looking gentlemen with 
baskets, who soon relieved them of the smuggled salt and separated in different 
directions." Thus do the people of China seek to lighten the grievous pressure of this 
tax. A curious custom exists in Canton. Certain blind old men and women are allowed 
to hawk salt about the streets, and earn a scanty living from the profits they are able 
to make. 

2 The Styx. 

3 These words require some explanation. Ordinarily they would be taken in the 
sense of casting cash of a base description; but they might equally well signify the 
casting of iron articles of any kind, and thereby hang some curious details. Iron 
foundries in China may only be opened under license from the local officials, and the 
articles there made, consisting chiefly of cooking utensils, may only be sold within a 
given area, each district having its own particular foundries, from which alone the 
supplies of the neighbourhood may be derived. Free trade in iron is much feared by 
the authorities, as thereby pirates and rebels would be enabled to supply themselves 
with arms. At the framing of the Treaty of Tientsin, with its accompanying tariff and 
rules, iron was not specified among other prohibited articles of commerce. 
Consequently, British merchants would appear to have a full right to purchase iron in 
the interior and convey it to any of the open ports under Transit-pass. But the Chinese 
officials steadily refuse to acknowledge or permit the exercise of this right, putting 
forward their own time-honoured custom with regard to iron, and enumerating the 
disadvantages to China were such an innovation to be brought about. 

4 The allusion is to women, of a not very respectable class. 

5 No Chinese magistrate would pass sentence upon a man who stole food under 
stress of hunger, even if such a criminal were ever brought before him. 

6 His own village. 

7 The whole story is meant as a satire upon the iniquity of the Salt Gabelle. [p. 
393] 

CXIII. COLLECTING SUBSCRIPTIONS 

THE FROG-GOD frequently employs a magician to deliver its oracles to those 
who have faith. Should the magician declare that the God is pleased, happiness is 
sure to follow; but if he says the God is angry, women and children[1] sit sorrowfully 
about, and neglect even their meals. Such is the customary belief, and it is probably 
not altogether devoid of foundation. 

There was a certain wealthy merchant, named Chou, who was a very stingy 
man. Once, when some repairs were necessary to the temple of the God of War,2 and 
rich and poor were subscribing as much as each could afford, he alone gave nothing.3 
By-and-by the works were stopped for want of funds, and the committee of 
management were at a loss what to do next. 

It happened that just then there was a festival in honour of the Frog-God, at 
which [p. 394] the magician suddenly cried out, General Chou[4] has given orders for 
a further subscription. Bring forth the books. The people all shouting assent to this, 


the magician went on to say, Those who have already subscribed will not be 
compelled to do so again; those who have not subscribed must give according to their 
means. Thereupon various persons began to put down their names, and when this 
was finished, the magician examined the books. He then asked if Mr. Chou was 
present; and the latter, who was skulking behind, in dread lest he should be detected 
by the God, had no alternative but to come to the front. Put yourself down for one 
hundred taels, said the magician to him; and when Chou hesitated, he cried out to 
him in anger, You could give two hundred for your own bad purposes: how much 
more should you do so in a good cause? alluding to a scandalous intrigue of Chous, 
the consequences of which he had averted by payment of the sum mentioned. This put 
our friend to the blush, and he was obliged to enter his name for one hundred taels, at 
which his wife was very angry, and said the magician was a rogue, and whenever he 
came to collect the money he was put off with some excuse. 

Shortly afterwards, Chou was one day going to sleep, when he heard a noise 
outside his house, like the blowing of an ox, and beheld a huge frog walking leisurely 
through the front door, which was just big enough to let it pass. Once inside, the 
creature laid itself down to sleep, with its head on the threshold, to the great horror of 
all the inmates; upon which Chou observed that it had probably come to collect his 
subscription, and, burning some incense, he vowed that he would pay down thirty 
taels on the spot, and send the balance later on. The frog, however, did not move, so 
Chou promised fifty, and then there was a slight decrease in the frogs size. Another 
twenty brought it down to the size of a peck measure; and when Chou said the full 
amount should be paid on the spot, the frog became suddenly no larger than ones fist, 
and disappeared through a hole in the wall. Chou immediately sent off fifty taels, [p. 
395] at which all the other subscribers were much astonished, not knowing what had 
taken place. 

A few days afterwards the magician said Chou still owed fifty taels, and that he 
had better send it in soon; so Chou forwarded ten more, hoping now to have done with 
the matter. However, as he and his wife were one day sitting down to dinner, the frog 
reappeared, and, glaring with anger, took up a position on the bed, which creaked 
under it, as though unable to bear the weight. Putting its head on the pillow, the frog 
went off to sleep, its body gradually swelling up until it was as big as a buffalo, and 
nearly filled the room, causing Chou to send off the balance of his subscription 
without a moments delay. There was now no diminution in the size of the frogs body; 
and by-and-by crowds of small frogs came hopping in, boring through the walls, 
jumping on the bed, catching flies on the cooking-stove, and dying in the saucepans, 
until the place was quite unbearable. 

Three days passed thus, and then Chou sought out the magician, and asked 
him what was to be done. The latter said he could manage it, and began by vowing on 
behalf of Chou twenty more taels subscription. At this the frog raised its head, and a 
further increase caused it to move one foot; and by the time a hundred taels was 
reached, the frog was walking out of the door. At the door, however, it stopped, and lay 
down once more, which the magician explained by saying, that immediate payment 
was required; so Chou handed over the amount at once, and the frog, shrinking down 
to its usual size, mingled with its companions, and departed with them. 

The repairs to the temple were accordingly completed, but for lighting the 
eyes,5 and the attendant festivities, [p. 396] some further subscriptions were wanted. 
Suddenly, the magician, pointing at the managers, cried out, There is money short; of 


fifteen men, two of you are defaulters. At this, all declared they had given what they 
could afford; but the magician went on to say, It is not a question of what you can 
afford; you have misappropriated the funds[6] that should not have been touched, and 
misfortune would come upon you, but that, in return for your exertions, I shall 
endeavour to avert it from you. The magician himself is not without taint.[7] Let him 
set you a good example. Thereupon, the magician rushed into his house, and brought 
out all the money he had, saying, I stole eight taels myself, which I will now refund. 
He then weighed what silver he had, and finding that it only amounted to a little over 
six taels, he made one of the bystanders take a note of the difference. Then the others 
came forward and paid up, each what he had misappropriated from the public fund. 
All this time the magician had been in a divine ecstasy, not knowing what he was 
saying; and when he came round, and was told what had happened, his shame knew 
no bounds, so he pawned some of his clothes, and paid in the balance of his own debt. 
As to the two defaulters who did not pay, one of them was ill for a month and more; 
while the other had a bad attack of boils. 

 

1 The chief supporters of superstition in China. 

2 See No. I., note 4. 

3 Such is one of the most common causes of hostile demonstration against 
Chinese Christians. The latter, acting under the orders of the missionaries, frequently 
refuse to subscribe to the various local celebrations and processions, the great annual 
festivities, and ceremonies of all kinds, on the grounds that these are idolatrous and 
forbidden by the Christian faith. Hence bad feeling, high words, blows, and sometimes 
bloodshed. I say frequently, because many cases have come to light in which 
converts have quietly subscribed like other people rather than risk an emeute.[A] 

An amusing incident came under my own special notice not very long ago. A 
missionary appeared before me one day to complain that a certain convert of his had 
been posted in his own village, and cut off from his civic rights for two years, merely 
because he had agreed to let a room of his house to be used as a missionary dp.t. I 
took a copy of the placard which was handed to me in proof of this statement, and 
found it to run thus:In consequence of  having entered into an agreement with 
a barbarian pastor, to lease to the said barbarian pastor a room in his house to be 
used as a missionary chapel, we, the elders of this village, do hereby debar  from 
the privilege of worshipping in our ancestral hall for the space of two years. It is 
needless, of course, to mention that Ancestral Worship is or was prohibited by all 
sects of missionaries in China alike; or that, when I pointed this out to the individual 
in question, who could not have understood the import of the Chinese placard, the 
charge was promptly withdrawn. 

4 An historical character who was formerly among the ranks of the Yellow 
Turban rebels, but subsequently entered the service of Kuan Y (see No. I., note 4), 
and was canonised by an Emperor of the last dynasty. 

5 This curious ceremony is the final touch to a newly-built or newly-restored 
temple, and consists in giving expression to the eyes of the freshly-painted idols, 
which have been purposely left blank by the painter. Up to that time these blocks of 
clay or wood are not supposed to have been animated by the spiritual presence of the 
deity in question; but no sooner are the eyes lighted than the gratified God smiles 


down upon the handsome decorations thus provided by devout and trusting 
suppliants. 

There is a cognate custom belonging to the ceremonies of ancestral worship, of 
great importance in the eyes of the Chinese. On a certain day after the death of a 
parent, the surviving head of the family proceeds with much solemnity to dab a spot of 
ink upon the memorial tablet of the deceased. This is believed to give to the departed 
spirit the power of remaining near to, and watching over the fortunes of, those left 
behind. 

6 Such indeed is the fate of a percentage of all public subscriptions raised and 
handled by Chinese of no matter what class. An application was once made to me for a 
donation to a native foundling hospital at Swatow, on the ground that I was known as 
a read (Chinese) book man, and that consequently other persons, both Chinese and 
foreigners, might be induced to follow my example. On my declining to subscribe, the 
manager of the concern informed me that if I would only put down my name for fifty 
dollars, say 10, no call should be made upon me for the money. What a blessing it is 
to live in Christian England, where peculation and corruption are unknown! 

7 The reader must recollect that these are the words of the God, speaking from 
the magicians body. 

[A] A seditious tumult; an outbreak. [p. 397] 

CXIV. TAOIST MIRACLES 

AT Chi-nan Fu there lived a certain priest: I cannot say whence he came, or 
what was his name. Winter and summer alike he wore but one unlined robe, and a 
yellow girdle about his waist, with neither shirt nor trousers. He combed his hair with 
a broken comb, holding the ends in his mouth, like the strings of a hat. By day he 
wandered about the market-place; at night he slept in the street, and to a distance of 
several feet round where he lay, the ice and snow would melt. 

When he first arrived at Chi-nan he used to perform miracles, and the people 
vied with each other in making him presents. One day a disreputable young fellow 
gave him a quantity of wine, and begged him in return to divulge the secret of his 
power; and when the priest refused, the young man watched him get into the river to 
bathe, and then ran off with his clothes. The priest called out to him to bring them 
back, promising that he would do as the young man required; but the latter, 
distrusting the priests good faith, refused to do so; whereupon the priests girdle was 
forthwith changed into a snake, several spans in circumference, which coiled itself 
round its new masters head, and glared and hissed terribly. The young man now fell 
on his knees, and humbly prayed the priest to save his life; at which the priest put his 
girdle on again, and a snake that had appeared to be his girdle, wriggled away and 
disappeared. 

The priests fame was thus firmly established, and the gentry and officials of the 
place were constantly inviting him to join them in their festive parties. By-and-by the 
priest said he was going to invite his entertainers to a return feast; and at the 
appointed time each one of them found on his table a formal invitation to a banquet at 
the Water Pavilion, but no one knew who had brought the letters. However, they all 
went, and were met at the door by the priest, in his usual garb; and when they got 
inside, the place was all desolate and bare, with no banquet ready. Im afraid I shall 


be obliged to ask you gentlemen to let me use your attendants, said the priest to [p. 
398] his guests; I am a poor man, and keep no servants myself. To this all readily 
consented; whereupon the priest drew a double door upon the wall, and rapped upon 
it with his knuckles. Somebody answered from within, and immediately the door was 
thrown open, and a splendid array of handsome chairs, and tables loaded with 
exquisite viands and costly wines, burst upon the gaze of the astonished guests. The 
priest bade the attendants receive all these things from the door, and bring them 
outside, cautioning them on no account to speak with the people inside; and thus a 
most luxurious entertainment was provided, to the great amazement of all present. 

Now this Pavilion stood upon the bank of a small lake, and every year, at the 
proper season, it was literally covered with lilies; but, at the time of this feast, the 
weather was cold, and the surface of the lake was of a smoky green colour. Its a 
pity, said one of the guests, that the lilies are not outa sentiment in which the 
others very cordially agreed, when suddenly a servant came running in to say that, at 
that moment, the lake was a perfect mass of lilies. Every one jumped up directly, and 
ran to look out of the window, and, lo! it was so; and in another minute the fragrant 
perfume of the flowers was borne towards them by the breeze. Hardly knowing what to 
make of this strange sight, they sent off some servants, in a boat, to gather a few of 
the lilies, but they soon returned empty-handed, saying, that the flowers seemed to 
shift their position as fast as they rowed towards them; at which the priest laughed, 
and said, These are but the lilies of your imagination, and have no real existence. 
And later on, when the wine was finished, the flowers began to droop and fade; and 
by-and-by a breeze from the north carried off every sign of them, leaving the lake as it 
had been before. 

A certain Taotai,2 at Chi-non, was much taken with this priest, and gave him 
rooms at his yamn. One day he had some friends to dinner, and set before them 
some [p. 399] very choice old wine that he had, and of which he only brought out a 
small quantity at a time, not wishing to get through it too rapidly. The guests, however, 
liked it so much that they asked for more; upon which the Taotai said, he was very 
sorry but it was all finished. The priest smiled at this, and said, I can give the 
gentlemen some, if they, will oblige me by accepting it; and immediately inserted the 
wine-kettle[3] in his sleeve, bringing it out again directly, and pouring out for the 
guests. This wine tasted exactly like the choice wine they had just been drinking, and 
the priest gave them all as much of it as they wanted, which made the Taotai suspect 
that something was wrong; so, after the dinner, he went into his cellar to look at his 
own stock, when he found the jars closely tied down, with unbroken seals, but one 
and all empty. In a great rage, he caused the priest to be arrested for sorcery, and 
proceeded to have him bambooed; but no sooner had the bamboo touched the priest 
than the Taotai himself felt a sting of pain, which increased at every blow; and, in a 
few moments, there was the priest writhing and shrieking under every cut,[4] while the 
Taotai was sitting in a pool of blood. 

Accordingly, the punishment was soon stopped, and the priest was commanded 
to leave Chi-non, which he did, and I know not whither he went. He was subsequently 
seen at Nan-king, dressed precisely as of old; but on being spoken to, he only smiled 
and made no reply. 

 

1 It is considered a serious breach of Chinese etiquette to accept invitations 


without returning the compliment at an early date. 

2 A high Chinese official, known to foreigners as Intendant of Circuit; the circuit 
being a circuit of Prefectures, over which he has full control, subject only to the 
approval of the highest provincial authorities. It is with this functionary that foreign 
Consuls rank. 

3 See No. XCIII., note 3. 

4 Of course only pretending to be hurt, the pain of the blows being transferred 
by his magical art to the back of the Taotai. [p. 400] 

CXV. ARRIVAL OF BUDDHIST PRIESTS 

Two Buddhist priests having arrived from the West[1] one went to the Wu-tai 
hill, while the other hung up his staff[2] at Tai-shan. Their clothes, complexions, 
language, and features were very different from those of our country. They further said 
they had crossed the Fiery Mountains, from the peaks of which smoke was always 
issuing as from the chimney of a furnace; that they could only travel after rain, and 
that excessive caution was necessary to avoid displacing any stone and thus giving a 
vent to the flames. They also stated that they had passed through the River of Sand, in 
the middle of which was a crystal hill with perpendicular sides and perfectly 
transparent and that there was a defile just broad enough to admit a single cart, its 
entrance guarded by two dragons with crossed horns. Those who wished to pass 
prostrated themselves before these dragons, and on receiving permission to enter, the 
horns opened and let them through. The dragons were of a white colour, and their 
scales and bristles seemed to be of crystal. Eighteen winters and summers these 
priests had been on the road; and of twelve who started from the West together, only 
two reached China.3 These two said that in their country four of our mountains are 
held in great esteem, namely, Tai, Hua, Wu-tai, and Lo-chia. The people there also 
think that China[4] is paved with yellow gold, that Kuan-yin and Wn-shu[5] are still 
alive, and that they have only come here to be sure of their Buddhahood and of 
immortal life. Hearing these words, it struck me that this was precisely what our own 
people say and think about the West; and that if travellers from each country could 
only meet half-way and tell each other the true state of affairs, there would be some 
hearty laughter on botd sides, and a saving of much unnecessary trouble. 

 

1 That is, missionaries from India. 

2 See No. LVI., note 10. 

2 Much of the above recalls Fa Hsiens narrative of his celebrated journey from 
China to India in the early years of the fifth century of our era, with which our author 
was evidently well acquainted. That courageous traveller complained that of those who 
had set out with him some had stopped on the way and others had died, leaving him 
only his own shadow as a companion. 

4 This may almost be said to have been the belief of the Arabs at the date of the 
composition of The Arabian Nights. 

5 For Kuan-yin, see No. XXXIII., note 7. Wn-shu, or Man-jusiri, is the God of 
Wisdom, and is generally represented as riding on a lion, in attendance, together with 
Pu-hsien, the God of Action, who rides an elephant, upon Shakyamuni Buddha. [p. 


401] 

CXVI. THE STOLEN EYES 

WHEN His Excellency Mr. Tang, of our village, was quite a child, a relative of 
his took him to a temple to see the usual theatrical performances.l He was a clever 
little fellow, afraid of nothing and nobody; and when he saw one of the clay images in 
the vestibule staring at him with its great glass[2] eyes, the temptation was irresistible; 
and, secretly gouging them out with his finger, he carried them off with him. 

When they reached home, his relative was taken suddenly ill, and remained for 
a long time speechless; at length, jumping up, he cried out several times in a voice of 
thunder, Why did you gouge out my eyes? His family did not know what to make of 
this, until little Tang told them what he had done; they then immediately began to 
pray to the possessed man, saying, A mere child, unconscious of the wickedness of 
his act, took away in his fun thy sacred eyes. They shall be reverently replaced. 
Thereupon the voice exclaimed, In that case, I shall go away; and he had hardly 
spoken before Tangs relative fell flat upon the ground and lay there in a state of 
insensibility for some time. 

When he recovered, they asked him concerning what he had said; but he 
remembered nothing of it. The eyes were then forthwith restored to their original 
sockets. 

 

1 See No. XLVIII., note 4. 

2 The term here used stands for a vitreous composition that has long been 
prepared by the Chinese. [p. 402] 

CXVII. THE INVISIBLE PRIEST 

MR. HAN was a gentleman of good family, on very intimate terms with a skilful 
Taoist priest and magician named Tan, who, when sitting amongst other guests, would 
suddenly become invisible. Mr. Han was extremely anxious to learn this art, but Tan 
refused all his entreaties, Not, as he said, because I want to keep the secret for 
myself, but simply as a matter of principle. To teach the superior man[1] would be well 
enough; others, however, would avail themselves of such knowledge to plunder their 
neighbours. There is no fear that you would do this, though even you might be 
tempted in certain ways. Mr. Han, finding all his efforts unavailing, flew into a great 
passion, and secretly arranged with his servants that they should give the magician a 
sound beating; and, in order to prevent his escape through the power of making 
himself invisible, he had his threshing-floor[2] covered with a fine ash-dust, so that at 
any rate his foot-steps would be seen and the servants could strike just above them.3 
He then inveigled Tan to the appointed spot, which he had no sooner reached than 
Hans servants began to belabour him on all sides with leathern thongs. Tan 
immediately became invisible, but his footprints were clearly seen as he moved about 
hither and thither to avoid the blows, and the servants went on striking above them 
until finally he succeeded in getting away. 

Mr. Han then went home, and subsequently Tan reappeared and told the 
servants that he could stay there no longer, adding that before he went he intended to 


give them all a feast in return for many things they had done for him. And diving into 
his sleeve he brought forth a quantity of delicious meats and wines, which he spread 
out upon [p. 403] the table, begging them to sit down and enjoy themselves. The 
servants did so, and one and all of them got drunk and insensible; upon which Tan 
picked each of them up and stowed them away in his sleeve. 

When Mr. Han heard of this, he begged Tan to perform some other trick; so Tan 
drew upon the wall a city, and knocking at the gate with his hand it was instantly 
thrown open. He then put inside it his wallet and clothes, and stepping through the 
gateway himself, waved his hand and bade Mr. Han farewell. The city gates were now 
closed, and Tan vanished from their sight. 

It was said that he appeared again in Ching-chou, where he taught little boys 
to paint a circle on their hands, and, by dabbing this on to another persons face or 
clothes, to imprint the circle on the place thus struck without a trace of it being left 
behind upon the hand. 

 

1 The perfect man, according to the Confucian standard. 

2 A large, smooth area of concrete, to be seen outside all country houses of any 
size, and used for preparing the various kinds of grain. Compare, The not uncommon 
practice of strewing ashes to show the footprints of ghosts or demons takes for granted 
that they are substantial bodies.Tylors Primitive Culture, Vol. I., P. 455. 

CXVIII. THE CENSOR IN PURGATORY 

JUST beyond Fng-tu[1] there is a fathomless cave which is reputed to be the 
entrance to Purgatory. All the implements of torture employed therein are of human 
manufacture; old, worn-out gyves and fetters being occasionally found at the mouth of 
the cave, and as regularly replaced by new ones, which disappear the same night, and 
for which the magistrate of the district makes a formal charge[2] in his accounts. 

Under the Ming dynasty, there was a certain Censor[3] [p. 404] named Hua, 
whose duties brought him to this place; and hearing the story of the cave, he said he 
did not believe it, but would penetrate into it and see for himself. People tried to 
dissuade him from such an enterprise; however, he paid no heed to their 
remonstrances, and entered the cave with a lighted candle in his hand, followed by 
two attendants. They had proceeded about half a mile, when suddenly the candle was 
violently extinguished, and Mr. Hua saw before him a broad flight of steps leading up 
to the Ten Courts, or judgment-halls, in each of which a judge was sitting with his 
robes and tablets all complete. On the eastern side there was one vacant place; and 
when the judges saw Mr. Hua, they hastened down the steps to meet him, and each 
one cried out, So you have come at last, have you? I hope you have been quite well 
since last we met. Mr. Hua asked what the place was; to which they replied that it 
was the Court of Purgatory, and then Mr. Hua in a great fright was about to take his 
leave, when the judges stopped him, saying, No, no, Sir! that is your seat there; how 
can you imagine you are to go back again? Thereupon Mr. Hua was overwhelmed 
with fear, and begged and implored the judges to forgive him; but the latter declared 
they could not interfere with the decrees of fate, and taking down the register of Life 
and Death they showed him that it had been ordained that on such a day of such a 
month his living body would pass into the realms of darkness. When Mr. Hua read 


these words he shivered and shook as if iced water was being poured down his back, 
and thinking of his old mother and his young children, his tears began to flow. At that 
juncture an angel in golden armour appeared, holding in his hand a document written 
on yellow silk,4 before which the judges all performed a respectful obeisance. They 
then unfolded and read the document, which was nothing more or less than a general 
pardon from the Almighty for the suffering sinners in Purgatory, by virtue of which Mr. 
Huas fate would be set aside, and he would be enabled to return once more to [p. 405] 
the light of day. 

Thereupon the judges congratulated him upon his release, and started him on 
his way home; but he had not got more than a few steps of the way before he found 
himself plunged in total darkness. He was just beginning to despair, when forth from 
the gloom came a God with a red face and a long beard, rays of light shooting out from 
his body and illuminating the darkness around. Mr. Hua made up to him at once, and 
begged to know how he could get out of the cave; to which the God curtly replied, 
Repeat the sutras of Buddha and vanished instantly from his sight. Now Mr. Hua 
had forgotten almost all the sutras he had ever known; however, he remembered a 
little of the diamond sutra, and, clasping his hands in an attitude of prayer, he began 
to repeat it aloud. No sooner had he done this than a faint streak of light glimmered 
through the darkness, and revealed to him the direction of the path; but the next 
moment he was at a loss how to go on, and the light forthwith disappeared. He then 
set himself to think hard what the next verse was, and as fast as he recollected and 
could go on repeating, so fast did the light reappear to guide him on his way, until at 
length he emerged once more from the mouth of the cave. 

As to the fate of the two servants who accompanied him it is needless to inquire. 

 

1 Fng-tu is a district city in the province of Szechuen, and near it are said to 
be fire-wells, otherwise known as the entrance to Purgatory, the capital city of which is 
also called Fng-tu. 

2 To the Imperial Treasury. From what I know of the barefacedness of similar 
official impostures, I should say that this statement is quite within the bounds of truth. 
For instance, at Amoy 1 per cent. is collected by the local mandarins on all imports, 
ostensibly for the purpose of providing the Imperial table with a delicious kind of birds 
nest said to be found in the neighbourhood Seven-tenths of the sum thus collected is 
pocketed by the various officials of the place, and with the remaining three-tenths a 
certain quantity of the ordinary article of commerce is imported from the Straits and 
forwarded to Peking. 

3 See No. XXXII., note 4. 

4 An imperial mandate is always written on yellow silk, and the ceremony of 
opening and perusing it is accompanied by prostiations and other acts of reverential 
submission. 

CXIX. MR. WILLOW AND THE LOCUSTS 

DURING the Ming dynasty a plague of locusts visited Ching-yen, and was 
advancing rapidly towards the I district, when the magistrate of that place, in great 
tribulation at the impending disaster, retired one day to sleep behind the screen in his 
office. There he dreamt that a young graduate, named Willow, wearing a tall hat and a 


green robe, and of very commanding stature, came to see him, and declared that he 
could tell the magistrate how to get rid of the locusts. To-morrow, said he, on [p. 
406] the south-west road, you will see a woman riding[2] on a large jennet: she is the 
Spirit of the Locusts; ask her, and she will help you. 

The magistrate thought this strange advice; however, he got everything ready, 
and waited, as he had been told, at the roadside. By-and-by, along came a woman 
with her hair tied up in a knot, and a serge cape over her shoulders, riding slowly 
northwards on an old mule; whereupon the magistrate burned some sticks of incense, 
and, seizing the mules bridle, humbly presented a goblet of wine. The woman asked 
him what he wanted; to which he replied, Lady, I implore you to save my small 
magistracy from the dreadful ravages of your locusts. Oho! said the woman, that 
scoundrel, Willow, has been letting the cat out of the bag, has he? He shall suffer for it: 
I wont touch your crops. She then drank three cups of wine, and vanished out of 
sight. 

Subsequently, when the locusts did come, they flew high in the air, and did not 
settle on the crops; but they stripped the leaves off every willow-tree far and wide; and 
then the magistrate awaked to the fact that the graduate of his dream was the Spirit of 
the Willows. Some said that this happy result was owing to the magistrates care for 
the welfare of his people. 

 

1 Innumerable pamphlets have been published in China on the best methods of 
getting rid of these destructive insects, but none to my knowledge contains much 
sound or practical advice. 

2 See No. LII, note i. The mules of the North of China are marvels of beauty and 
strength; and the price of a fine animal often goes as high as 100. 

CXX. MR. TUNG, OR VIRTUE REWARDED 

AT Ching-chou there lived a Mr. Tung, President of one of the Six Boards, 
whose domestic regulations were so strict that the men and women servants were not 
allowed to speak to each other.1 One day he caught a slave-girl laughing and talking 
with one of his attendants, and gave them both a sound rating. That night he retired 
to sleep, accompanied by his valet-de-chambre, in his library, the door of which, as it 
was very hot weather, was left wide open. When the night was far advanced, the valet 
was awakened by a noise at his master's bed: and, opening [p. 407] his eyes, he saw, 
by the light of the moon, the attendant above mentioned pass out of the door with 
something in his hand. Recognising the man as one of the family, he thought nothing 
of the occurrence, but turned round and went to sleep again. 

Soon after, however, he was again aroused by the noise of footsteps tramping 
heavily across the room, and, looking up, he beheld a huge being with a red face and a 
long beard, very like the God of War,2 carrying a mans head. Horribly frightened, he 
crawled under the bed, and then he heard sounds above him as of clothes being 
shaken out, and as if some one was being shampooed.3 In a few moments, the boots 
tramped once more across the room and went away; and then he gradually put out his 
head, and, seeing the dawn beginning to peep through the window, he stretched out 
his hand to reach his clothes. These he found to be soaked through and through, and, 
on applying his hand to his nose, he smelt the smell of blood. He now called out loudly 


to his master, who jumped up at once; and, by the light of a candle, they saw that the 
bed-clothes and pillows were alike steeped in blood. 

Just then some constables knocked at the door, and when Mr. Tung went out 
to see who it was, the constables were all astonishment; for, said they, a few 
minutes ago a man rushed wildly up to our yamn, and said he had killed his master; 
and, as he himself was covered with blood, he was arrested, and turned out to be a 
servant of yours. He also declared that he had buried your head alongside the temple 
of the God of War; and when we went to look, there, indeed, was a freshly-dug hole, 
but the head was gone. Mr. Tung was amazed at all this story, and, on proceeding to 
the magistrates yamn, he discovered that the man in charge was the attendant 
whom he had scolded the day before. Thereupon, the criminal was severely bambooed 
and released; and then Mr. Tung, who was unwilling to make an enemy of a man of 
this stamp, gave him the girl to wife. 

However, a few nights afterwards the people who lived next door to the newly-
married couple heard a terrific crash in their house, and, rushing in to see what was 
the matter, found that husband and wife, and the bedstead [p. 408] as well, had been 
cut clean in two as if by a sword. The ways of the God are many, indeed, but few more 
extraordinary than this.4 

 

1 See No. XL., note 2, and No. XCIV., note 3. 

2 See No. I., note 4. 

3 See No. LXIX., note 8. 

4 It was the God of War who replaced Mr. Tungs head after it had actually been 
cut off and buried. 

CXXI. THE DEAD PRIEST 

A CERTAIN Taoist priest, overtaken in his wanderings by the shades of evening, 
sought refuge in a small Buddhist monastery. The monks apartment was, however, 
locked so he threw his mat down in the vestibule of the shrine, and seated himself 
upon it. In the middle of the night, when all was still, he heard a sound of some one 
opening the door behind him; and looking round, he saw a Buddhist priest, covered 
with blood from head to foot, who did not seem to notice that anybody else was 
present. Accordingly, he himself pretended not to be aware of what was going on; and 
then he saw the other priest enter the shrine, mount the altar, and remain there some 
time, embracing Buddhas head and laughing by turns. 

When morning came, he found the monks room still locked; and, suspecting 
something was wrong, he walked to a neighbouring village, where he told the people 
what he had seen. Thereupon the villagers went back with him, and broke open the 
door, and there before them lay the priest weltering in his blood, having evidently been 
killed by robbers, who had stripped the place bare. 

Anxious now to find out what had made the disembodied spirit of the priest 
laugh in the way it had been seen to do, they proceeded to inspect the head of the 
Buddha on the altar; and, at the back of it, they noticed a small mark, scraping 
through which they discovered a sum of over thirty ounces of silver. This sum was 
forthwith used for defraying the: funeral expenses of the murdered man. [p. 409] 


CXXII. THE FLYING COW 

A CERTAIN man, who had bought a fine cow, dreamt the same night that wings 
grew out of the animals back, and that it had flown away. Regarding this as an omen 
of some pending misfortune, he led the cow off to market again, and sold it at a 
ruinous loss. 

Wrapping up in a cloth the silver he received, he slung it over his back, and was 
half-way home, when he saw a falcon eating part of a hare.l Approaching the bird, he 
found it was quite tame, and accordingly tied it by the leg to one of the corners of the 
cloth, in which his money was. The falcon fluttered about a good deal, trying to escape; 
and, by-and-by, the mans hold being for a moment relaxed, away went the bird, cloth, 
money, and all. It was destiny, said the man every time he told the story; ignorant as 
he was, first, that no faith should be put in dreams;2 and, secondly, that people 
shouldnt take things they see by the wayside.3 Quadrupeds dont usually fly. 

 

1 See No. VI., note 1. 

2 The highly educated Confucianist rises above the superstition that darkens 
the lives of his less fortunate fellow countrymen. Had such a dream as the above 
received an inauspicious interpretation at the hands of some local soothsayer the 
owner of the animal would in nine cases out of ten have taken an early opportunity of 
getting rid of it. 

3 The Chinese love to refer to the good old time of their fore-fathers, when a 
man who dropped anything on the highway would have no cause to hurry back for 
fear of its being carried off by a stranger. 

CXXIII. THE MIRROR AND LISTEN TRICK 

AT I-tu there lived a family of the name of Cheng. The two sons were both 
distinguished scholars, but the elder was early known to fame, and, consequently, the 
favourite with his parents, who also extended their preference to his wife. The younger 
brother was a trifle wild, which displeased his father and mother very much, and 
made them regard his wife, too, with anything but a friendly eye. [p. 410] The latter 
reproached her husband for being the cause of this, and asked him why he, being a 
man like his brother, could not vindicate the slights that were put upon her. This 
piqued him; and, setting to work in good earnest, he soon gained a fair reputation, 
though still not equal to his brothers. 

That year the two went up for the highest degree; and, on New Years Eve, the 
wife of the younger, very anxious for the success of her husband, secretly tried the 
mirror and listen trick.1 She saw two men pushing each other in jest, and heard 
them say, You go and get cool, which remark she was quite unable to interpret for 
good or for bad, so she thought no more about the matter. 

After the examination, the two brothers returned home; and one day, when the 
weather was extremely hot, and their two wives were hard at work in the cook-house, 
preparing food for their field-labourers, a messenger rode up in hot haste[2] to 
announce that the elder brother had passed. Thereupon his mother went into the 
cook-house, and, calling to her daughter-in-law, said, Your husband has passed; you 
go and get cool. Rage and grief now filled the breast of the second sons wife, who, 


with tears in her eyes, continued her task of cooking, when suddenly another 
messenger rushed in to say, that the second son had passed too. At this, his wife flung 
down her frying-pan, and cried out, Now Ill go and get cool; and as in the heat of her 
excitement she uttered these words, the recollection of her trial of the mirror and 
listen trick flashed upon her, and she knew that the words of that evening had been 
fulfilled. 

 

1 One method is to wrap an old mirror (formerly a polished metal disc) in a 
handkerchief, and then, no one being present, to bow seven times towards the Spirit of 
the Hearth: after which the first words heard spoken by any one will give a clue to the 
issue under investigation. Another method is to close the eyes and take seven paces, 
opening them at the seventh and getting some hint from the objects first seen in a 
mirror held in the hand, coupled with the words first spoken within the experimenters 
hearing. 

2 In former days, these messengers of good tidings to candidates whose homes 
were in distant parts used to earn handsome sums if first to announce the news; but 
now the telegraph has taken their occupation from them. [p. 411] 

CXXIV. THE CATTLE PLAGUE 

CHN HUA-FNG, of Mng-shan, overpowered by the great heat, went and lay 
down under a tree, when suddenly up came a man with a thick comforter round his 
neck, who also sat down on a stone in the shade, and began fanning himself as hard 
as he could, the perspiration all the time running off him like a waterfall. Chn rose 
and said to him with a smile, If, Sir, you were to remove that comforter, you would be 
cool enough without the help of a fan. It would be easy enough, replied the stranger, 
to take off my comforter; but the difficulty would be in getting it on again. He then 
went on to converse generally upon other matters, in a manner which betokened 
considerable refinement; and by-and-by he exclaimed, What I should like now is just 
a draught of iced wine to cool the twelve joints of my oesophagus.1 Come along, 
then, cried Chn, my house is close by, and I shall be happy to give you what you 
want. 

So off they went together; and Chn set before them some capital wine, which 
he produced from a cave, cold enough to numb their teeth. The stranger was delighted, 
and remained there drinking until late in the evening, when, all at once, it began to 
rain. Chn lighted a lamp; and he and his guest, who now took off the comforter, sat 
talking together in dshabille. Every now and again the former thought he saw a light 
coming from the back of the strangers head; and when at length he had gone off into 
a tipsy sleep, Chn took the light to examine more closely. He found behind the ears a 
large cavity, partitioned by a number of membranes, and looking like a lattice, with a 
thin skin hanging down in front of each, the spaces being apparently empty. In great 
astonishment Chn took a hair-pin, and inserted it into one of these places, when pff! 
out flew something like a tiny cow, [p. 412] which broke through the window,2 and 
was gone. 

This frightened Chn, and he determined to play no more tricks; just then, 
however, the stranger waked up. Alas! cried he, you have been at my head, and 
have let out the Cattle Plague. What is to be done now? Chn asked what he meant: 
upon which the stranger said, There is no object in further concealment. I will tell you 


all. I am the Angel of Pestilence for the six kinds of domestic animals. That form which 
you have let out attacks oxen, and I fear that, for miles round, few will escape alive. 
Now Chn himself was a cattle-farmer, and when, he heard this was dreadfully 
alarmed, and implored the stranger to tell him what to do. What to do! replied he; 
why, I shall not escape punishment myself; how can I tell you what to do? However, 
you will find powdered Ku-tsan[3] an efficacious remedythat is, if you dont keep it 
a secret for your private use.4 The stranger then departed, first of all piling up a 
quantity of earth in a niche in the wall, a handful of which, he told Chn, given to 
each animal, might prove of some avail. 

Before long the plague did break out; and Chn, who was desirous of making a 
little money by it, told the remedy to no one, with the exception of his younger brother. 
The latter tried it on his own beasts with great success; while, on the other hand, 
those belonging to Chn himself died off, to the number of fifty head,5 leaving him 
only four or five old cows, which showed every sign of soon sharing the same fate. In 
his distress, Chn suddenly bethought himself of the earth in the niche; and, as a last 
resource, gave some to the sick animals. By the next morning they were quite well, 
and then he knew that his secrecy about the remedy had caused it to have no effect. 
From that moment his stock went on increasing, and in a few years he had as many 
as ever. 

 

1 Accurate anatomical descriptions must not be looked for in Chinese literature. 
Man has three hundred and sixty-five bones, corresponding to the number of days it 
takes the heavens to revolve. From the Hsi yan lu, or Instructions to Coroners, Book 
I., ch. 12. See No. XIV., note 8. 

2 See No. X., note 7. 

3 Sophora flavescens, Ait. 

4 As the Chinese invariably do whenever they get hold of a useful prescription 
or remedy. Master workmen also invariably try to withhold something of their art from 
the apprentices they engage to teach. 

5 The text has of two hundred hoofs. [p. 413] 

CXXV. THE MARRIAGE OF THE VIRGIN GODDESS 

AT Kuei-chi there is a shrine to the Plum Virgin, who was formerly a young lady 
named Ma, and lived at Tung-wan. Her betrothed husband dying before the wedding, 
she swore she would never marry, and at thirty years of age she died. Her kinsfolk 
built a shrine to her memory, and gave her the title of the Plum Virgin. 

Some years afterwards, a Mr. Chin, on his way to the examination, happened to 
pass by the shrine; and entering in, he walked up and down thinking very much of the 
young lady in whose honour it had been erected. That night he dreamt that a servant 
came to summon him into the presence of the Goddess; and that, in obedience to her 
command, he went and found her waiting for him just outside the shrine. I am deeply 
grateful to you, Sir, said the Goddess, on his approach, for giving me so large a share 
of your thoughts; and I intend to repay you by becoming your humble handmaid. Mr. 
Chin bowed an assent; and then the Goddess escorted him back, saying, When your 
place is ready, I will come and fetch you. 


On waking in the morning, Mr. Chin was not over-pleased with his dream; 
however, that very night every one of the villagers dreamt that the Goddess appeared 
and said she was going to marry Mr. Chin, bidding them at once prepare an image of 
him. This the village elders, out of respect for their Goddess, positively refused to do; 
until at length they all began to fall ill, and then they made a clay image of Mr. Chin 
and placed it on the left of the Goddess. 

Mr. Chin now told his wife that the Plum Virgin had come for him; and, putting 
on his official cap and robes, he straight-way died. Thereupon his wife was very angry; 
and, going to the shrine, she first abused the Goddess, and then, getting on the altar, 
slapped her face well. The Goddess is now called Chins virgin wife. [p. 414] 

CXXVI. THE WINE INSECT 

A MR. LIN of Chang-span was extremely fat, and so fond of wine that he would 
often finish a pitcher by himself. However, he owned about fifty acres of land, half of 
which was covered with millet, and being well off, he did not consider that his drinking 
would bring him into trouble. One day a foreign Buddhist priest saw him, and 
remarked that he appeared to be suffering from some extraordinary complaint. Mr. Lin 
said nothing was the matter with him; whereupon the priest asked him if he often got 
drunk. Lin acknowledged that he did; and the priest told him that he was afflicted by 
the wine insect. Dear me! cried Lin, in great alarm, do you think you could cure 
me? The priest declared there would be no difficulty in doing so; but when Lin asked 
him what drugs he intended to use, the priest said he should not use any at all. 

He then made Lin lie down in the sun; and tying his hands and feet together, he 
placed a stoup of good wine about half a foot from his head. By-and-by, Lin felt a 
deadly thirst coming on; and the flavour of the wine passing through his nostrils 
seemed to set his vitals on fire. Just then he experienced a tickling sensation in his 
throat, and something ran out of his mouth and jumped into the wine. On being 
released from his bonds, he saw that it was an insect about three inches in length, 
which wriggled about in the wine like a tadpole, and had mouth and eyes all complete. 
Lin was overjoyed, and offered money to the priest, who refused to take it, saying all 
he wanted was the insect, which he explained to Lin was the essence of wine, and 
which, on being stirred up in water, would turn it into wine. Lin tried this, and found 
it was so; and ever afterwards he detested the sight of wine. 

He subsequently became very thin, and so poor that he had hardly enough to 
eat and drink.2 [p. 415] 

 

1 The ordinary wine of China is a spirit distilled from rice. See No. XCIII., note 
3. 

2 The commentator would have us believe that Mr. Lins fondness for wine was 
to him an element of health and happiness rather than a disease to be cured, and that 
the priest was wrong in meddling with the natural bent of his constitution. 

CXXVII. THE FAITHFUL DOG 

A CERTAIN man of Lu-ngan, whose father had been cast into prison, and was 
brought almost to deaths door,[1] scraped together one hundred ounces of silver, and 


set out for the city to try and arrange for his parents release. Jumping on a mule, he 
saw that a black dog, belonging to the family, was following him. He tried in vain to 
make the dog remain at home; and when, after travelling for some miles, he got off his 
mule to rest awhile, he picked up a large stone and threw it at the dog, which then ran 
off. 

However, he was no sooner on the road again, than up came the dog, and tried 
to stop the mule by holding on to its tail. His master beat it off with the whip; 
whereupon the dog ran barking loudly in front of the mule, and seemed to be using 
every means in its power to cause his master to stop. The latter thought this a very 
inauspicious omen, and turning upon the animal in a rage, drove it away out of sight. 

He now went on to the city; but when, in the dusk of the evening, he arrived 
there, he found that about half his money was gone. In a terrible state of mind, he 
tossed about all night; then all of a sudden it flashed across him that the strange 
behaviour of the dog might possibly have some meaning; so getting up very early, he 
left the city as soon as the gates were open,2 and though, from the number of passers-
by, he never expected to find his money again, he went on until he reached the spot 
where he had got off his mule the day before. There he saw his dog lying dead upon 
the ground, its hair having apparently been wetted through with [p. 416] 
perspiration;3 and, lifting up the body by one of its ears, he found his lost silver. Full 
of gratitude he bought a coffin and buried the dead animal; and the people now call 
the place the Grave of the Faithful Dog. 

 

1 In an entry on torture (see No. LXXIII., note 2) which occurs in my Glossary of 
Reference I made the following statement:The real tortures of a Chinese prison are 
the filthy dens in which the unfortunate victims are confined, the stench in which they 
have to draw breath, the fetters and manacles by which they are secured, the absolute 
insufficiency even of the disgusting rations doled out to them, and above all the 
mental agony which must ensue in a country with no Habeas corpus to protect the 
lives and fortunes of its citizens. 

2 For a small bribe, the soldiers at the gates of a Chinese city will usually pass 
people in and out by means of a ladder placed against the wall at some convenient 
spot. 

3 I believe it is with us only a recently determined fact that dogs perspire 
through the skin. 

CXXVIII. AN EARTHQUAKE 

IN 1668 there was a very severe earthquake.[1] I myself was staying at Chi-hsia, 
and happened to be that night sitting over a kettle of wine with my cousin Li Tu. All of 
a sudden we heard a noise like thunder, travelling from the south-east in a north-
westerly direction. We were much astonished at this, and quite unable to account for 
the noise; in another moment the table began to rock, and the wine-cups were upset; 
the beams and supports of the house snapped here and there with a crash, and we 
looked at each other in fear and trembling. By-and-by we knew that it was an 
earthquake; and, rushing out, we ,saw houses and other buildings, as it were, fall 
down and get up again; and, amidst the sounds of crashing walls, we heard the 
shrieks of women and children, the whole mass being like a great seething cauldron. 


Men were giddy and could not stand, but rolled about on the ground; the river 
overflowed its banks;. cocks crowed, and dogs barked from one end of the city to the 
other. 

In a little while the quaking began to subside; and then might be seen men and 
women running half naked about the streets, all anxious to tell their own experiences, 
and forgetting that they had on little or no clothing. I subsequently heard that a well 
was closed up and rendered useless by this earthquake that a house was turned 
completely round, so as to face the opposite direction; that the Chi-hsia hill was riven 
open, and that the waters of the I river flowed in and made a lake of an acre and more. 
Truly such an earthquake as this is of rare occurrence. 

 

1 The exact date is giventhe 17th of the 6th moon, which would probably fall 
towards the end of June. [p. 417] 

CXXIX. MAKING ANIMALS 

THE tricks for bewitching people are many. Sometimes drugs are put in their 
food, and when they eat they become dazed, and follow the person who has bewitched 
them. This is commonly called ta hs pa; in Kiang-nan it is known as che hs. Little 
children are most frequently bewitched in this way. There is also what is called 
making animals, which is better known on the south side of the River.1 

One day a man arrived at an inn in Yang-chou, leading with him five donkeys. 
Tying them up near the stable, he told the landlord he would be back in a few minutes, 
and bade him give his donkeys no water. He had not been gone long before the 
donkeys, which were standing out in the glare of the sun, began to kick about, and 
make a noise; whereupon the landlord untied them, and was going to put them in the 
shade, when suddenly they espied water, and made a rush to get at it. So the landlord 
let them drink; and no sooner had the water touched their lips than they rolled on the 
ground, and changed into women. In great astonishment the landlord asked them 
whence they came; but their tongues were tied, and they could not answer, so he hid 
them in his private apartments, and at that moment their owner returned, bringing 
with him five sheep. The latter immediately asked the landlord where his donkeys were; 
to which the landlord replied by offering him some wine, saying, the donkeys would be 
brought to him directly. He then went out and gave the sheep some water, on drinking 
which they were all changed into boys. Accordingly, he communicated with the 
authorities, and the stranger was arrested and forthwith beheaded. 

 

1 See No. XCVIII., note 1. [p. 418] 

CXXX CRUELTY AVENGED 

A CERTAIN magistrate caused a petty oil-vendor, who was brought before him 
for some trifling misdemeanour, and whose statements were very confused, to be 
bambooed to death. The former subsequently rose to high rank; and having amassed 
considerable wealth, set about building himself a fine house. On the day when the 
great beam was to be fixed in its place,1 among the friends and relatives who arrived 
to offer their congratulations, he was horrified to see the oilman walk in. At the same 


instant one of the servants came rushing up to announce to him the birth of a son 
whereupon, he mournfully remarked, The house not yet finished, and its destroyer 
already here. The bystanders thought he was joking, for they had not seen what he 
had seen.2 However, when that boy grew up, by his frivolity and extravagance he quite 
ruined his father. He was finally obliged himself to go into service; and spent all his 
earnings in oil, which he swallowed in large quantities. 

 

1 This corresponds to our ceremony of laying the foundation stone, except that 
one commemorates the beginning, the other the completion, of a new building. 

2 That is, the disembodied spirit of the oilman. 

CXXXI. THE WEI-CHI DEVIL 

A CERTAIN general, who had resigned his command, and had retired to his own 
home, was very fond of roaming about and amusing himself with win and wei-chi.[1] 
One [p. 419] dayit was the 9th of the 9th moon, when everybody goes up high[2]as 
he was playing with some friends, a stranger walked up, and watched the game 
intently for some time without going away. He was a miserable-looking creature, with 
a very ragged coat, but nevertheless possessed of a refined and courteous air. The 
general begged him to be seated, an offer which he accepted, being all the time 
extremely deferential in his manner. I suppose you are pretty good at this, said the 
general, pointing to the board; try a bout with one of my friends here. The stranger 
made a great many apologies in reply, but finally accepted, and played a game in 
which, apparently to his great disappointment, he was beaten. He played another with 
the same result; and now, refusing all offers of wine, he seemed to think of nothing 
but how to get some one to play with him. 

Thus he went on until the afternoon was well advanced; when suddenly, just as 
he was in the middle of a most exciting game, which depended on a single place, he 
rushed forward, and throwing himself at the feet of the general, loudly implored his 
protection. The general did not know what to make of this; however, he raised him up, 
and said, Its only a game: why get so excited? To this the stranger replied by begging 
the general not to let his gardener seize him; and when the general asked what 
gardener he meant, he said the mans name was Ma-chng. Now this Ma-chng was 
often employed as a lictor by the Ruler of Purgatory, and would sometimes remain 
away as much as ten days, serving the warrants of death; accordingly, the general 
sent off to inquire about him, and found that he had been in a trance for two days.3 
His master cried out that he had better not behave rudely to his guest, but at that very 
moment the stranger sank down to the ground, and was gone. 

The general was lost in astonishment; however, he now knew that the man was 
a disembodied spirit, and on the next day, when Ma-chng came round, he asked him 
for full particulars. The gentleman was a native of [p. 420] Hu-hsiang, replied the 
gardener, who was passionately addicted to wei-chi, and had lost a great deal of 
money by it. His father, being much grieved at his behaviour, confined him to the 
house; but he was always getting out, and indulging the fatal passion, and at last his 
father died of a broken heart. In consequence of this, the Ruler of Purgatory curtailed 
his term of life, and condemned him to become a hungry devil,4 in which state he has 
already passed seven years. And now that the Phoenix Tower[5] is completed, an order 
has been issued for the literati to present themselves, and compose an inscription to 


be cut on stone, as a memorial thereof, by which means they would secure their own 
salvation as a reward. Many of the shades failing to arrive at the appointed time, God 
was very angry with the Ruler of Purgatory, and the latter sent me off, and others who 
are employed in the same way, to hunt up the defaulters. But as you, Sir, bade me 
treat the gentleman with respect, I did not venture to bind him. The general inquired 
what had become of the stranger; to which the gardener replied, He is now a mere 
menial in Purgatory, and can never be born again. Alas! cried his master, thus it is 
that men are ruined by any inordinate passion.6 

 

1 A most abstruse and complicated game of skill for which the Chinese claim an 
antiquity of four thousand years, and which I was the first to introduce to a European 
public through an article in the Temple Bar Magazine for January 1877. A propos of 
which, an accomplished American lady, Miss A. M. Fielde, of Swatow, wrote as 
follows:The game seems to me the peer of chess. . . . It is a game for the slow, 
persistent, astute, multitudinous Chinese; while chess, by the picturesque appearance 
of the board, the variety and prominent individuality of the men, and the erratic 
combination of the attack,is for the Anglo-Saxon. 

2 On this day, annually dedicated to kite-flying, picnics, and good cheer, 
everybody tries to get up to as great an elevation as possible, in the hope, as some say, 
of thereby prolonging life. It was this day4th October, 1878which was fixed for the 
total extermination of foreigners in Foochow. 

3 See No. XXVI., note 3. 

4 One of the prtas, or the fourth of the six paths (gati) of existence, the other 
five being (1) angels, (2) men, (3) demons, (5) brute beasts, and (6) sinners in hell. The 
term is often used colloquially for a self-invited guest. 

5 An imaginary building in the Infernal Regions. 

6 Mencius reckoned to play wei-chi for money among the five unfilial acts. 

CXXXII. THE FORTUNE-HUNTER PUNISHED 

A CERTAIN mans uncle had no children and the nephew, with an eye to his 
uncles property, volunteered to become his adopted son.1 When the uncle died all the 
property passed accordingly to his nephew, who thereupon broke faith as to his part of 
the contract.2 He did the same with [p. 421] another uncle, and thus united three 
properties in his own person, whereby he became the richest man of the 
neighbourhood. 

Suddenly he fell ill, and seemed to go out of his mind; for he cried out, So you 
wish to live in wealth, do you? and immediately seizing a sharp knife, he began 
hacking away at his own body until he had strewed the floor with pieces of flesh. He 
then exclaimed, You cut off other peoples posterity and expect to have posterity 
yourself, do you? and forthwith he ripped himself open and died. Shortly afterwards 
his son, too, died, and the property fell into the hands of strangers. Is not this a 
retribution to be dreaded? 

 

1 See No. LV., note 9 and No. XCIV., note 6. 


2 That is, in carrying out the obligations he had entered into, such as 
conducting the ceremonies of ancestral worship, repairing the family tombs, &c. 

CXXXIII. LIFE PROLONGED 

A CERTAIN cloth merchant of Chang-ching was stopping at Tai-ngan, when he 
heard of a magician who was said to be very skilled in casting nativities. So he went off 
at once to consult him; but the magician would not undertake the task, saying, Your 
destiny is bad: you had better hurry home. At this the merchant was dreadfully 
frightened, and, packing up his wares, set off towards Chang-ching. 

On the way he fell in with a man in short clothes,l like a constable; and the two 
soon struck up a friendly intimacy, taking their meals together. By-and-by the 
merchant asked the stranger what his business was; and the latter told him he was 
going to Chang-ching to serve summonses, producing at the same time a document 
and showing it to the merchant, who, on looking closely, saw a list of names, at the 
head of which was his own. In great astonishment he inquired what he had done that 
he should be arrested thus; to which his companion replied, I am not a living being: I 
am a lictor in the employ of the infernal authorities, and I presume your term of life 
has expired. The merchant burst into [p. 423] tears and implored the lictor to spare 
him, which the latter declared was impossible; But, added he, there are a great 
many names down, and it will take me some time to get through them: you go off 
home and settle up your affairs, and, as a slight return for your friendship, Ill call for 
you last. 

A few minutes afterwards they reached a stream where the bridge was in ruins, 
and people could only cross with great difficulty; at which the lictor remarked, You 
are now on the road to death, and not a single cash can you carry away with you. 
Repair this bridge and benefit the public; and thus from a great outlay you may 
possibly yourself derive some small advantage. The merchant said he would do so; 
and when he got home, he bade his wife and children prepare for his coming 
dissolution, and at the same time set men to work and made the bridge sound and 
strong again. 

Some time elapsed, but no lictor arrived; and his suspicions began to be 
aroused, when one day the latter walked in and said, I reported that affair of the 
bridge to the Municipal God,2 who communicated it to the Ruler of Purgatory; and for 
that good act your span of life has been lengthened, and your name struck out of the 
list. I have now come to announce this to you. The merchant was profuse in his 
thanks; and the next time he went to Tai-ngan, he burnt a quantity of paper ingots,3 
and made offerings and libations to the lictor, out of gratitude for what he had done. 

Suddenly the lictor himself appeared and cried out, Do you wish to ruin me? 
Happily my new master has only just taken up his post, and he has not noticed this, 
or where should I be?4 The lictor then escorted the merchant some distance; and, at 
parting, bade him never return by that road, but, if he had any business at Tai-ngan, 
to go thither by a roundabout way. 

 

1 The long flowing robe is a sign of respectability which all but the very poorest 
classes love to affect in public. At the port of Haiphong, shoes are the criterion of 
social standing; but, as a rule, the well-to-do native merchants prefer to go barefoot 


rather than give the authorities a chance of exacting heavier squeezes, on the strength 
of such a palpable acknowledgment of wealth. 

2 See No. I., note 1. 

3 See No. LVI., note 7 and No. XCVII., note 7. 

4 The lictor had no right to divulge his errand when he first met the cloth 
merchant, or to remove the latters name from the top to the bottom of the list. 

CXXXIV. THE CLAY IMAGE 

ON the river I there lived a man named Ma, who married a wife from the Wang 
family, with whom he was very happy in his domestic life. Ma, however, died young; 
and his wifes parents were unwilling that their daughter should remain a widow, but 
she resisted all their importunities, and declared firmly she would never marry again. 
It is a noble resolve of yours, I allow, argued her mother; but you are still a mere girl, 
and you have no children. Besides, I notice that people who start with such rigid 
determinations always end by doing something discreditable, and therefore you had 
better get married as soon as you can, which is no more than is done every day. The 
girl swore she would rather die than consent, and accordingly her mother had no 
alternative but to let her alone. 

She then ordered a clay image to be made, exactly resembling her late 
husband;[1] and whenever she took her own meals, she would set meat and wine 
before it, precisely as if her husband had been there. One night she was on the point 
of retiring to rest, when suddenly she saw the clay image stretch itself and step down 
from the table, increasing all the while in height, until it was as tall as a man, and 
neither more nor less than her own husband. In great alarm she called out to her 
mother, but the image stopped her, saying, Dont do that! I am but showing my 
gratitude for your affectionate care of me, and it is chill and uncomfortable in the 
realms below. Such devotion as yours casts its light back on generations gone by; and 
now I, who was cut off in my prime because my father did evil, and was condemned to 
be without an heir, have been permitted, in consequence of your virtuous conduct, to 
visit you once again, that our ancestral line may yet remain unbroken.2 Every 
morning at cock-crow her husband resumed his [p. 424] usual form and size as the 
clay image; and after a time he told her that their hour of separation had come, upon 
which husband and wife bade each other an eternal farewell. 

By-and-by the widow, to the great astonishment of her mother, bore a son, 
which caused no small amusement among the neighbours who heard the story; and, 
as the girl herself had no proof of what she stated to be the case, a certain beadle[3] of 
the place, who had an old grudge against her husband, went off and informed the 
magistrate of what had occurred. After some investigation, the magistrate exclaimed, I 
have heard that the children of disembodied spirits have no shadow; and that those 
who have shadows are not genuine. Thereupon they took Mas child into the sunshine, 
and lo there was but a very faint shadow, like a thin vapour. The magistrate then drew 
blood from the child, and smeared it on the clay image; upon which the blood at once 
soaked in and left no stain. Another clay image being produced and the same 
experiment tried, the blood remained on the surface so that it could be wiped away.4 

The girls story was thus acknowledged to be true; and when the child grew up, 
and in every feature was the counterpart of Ma, there was no longer any room for 


suspicion. 

 

1 The clay image makers of Tientsin are wonderfully clever in taking likenesses 
by these means. Some of the most skilful will even manipulate the clay behind their 
backs, and then, adding the proper colours, will succeed in producing an exceedingly 
good resemblance. They find, however, more difficulty with foreign faces, to which they 
are less accustomed in the trade. 

2 See No. LXI., note 3. 

3 See No. LXIV., note 2. 

4 Such is the officially authorised method of determining a doubtful 
relationship between a dead parent and a living child, substituting a bone for the clay 
image here mentioned. 

CXXXV. DISHONESTY PUNISHED 

AT Chiao-chou there lived a man named Liu Hsi-chuan, who was steward to 
His Excellency Mr. Fa. When already over forty a son was born to him, whom he loved 
very dearly, and quite spoilt by always letting him have his own way. When the boy 
grew up he led a dissolute, extravagant life, and ran through all his fathers property. 
By-and-by he fell sick, and then he declared that nothing would cure him but a slice 
off a fat old favourite mule they had; upon which his father had another and more 
worthless animal killed; but his son found out he was being tricked, and, after 
abusing his father soundly, his symptoms became more and more alarming. The mule 
was [p. 425] accordingly killed, and some of it was served up to the sick man; however, 
he only just tasted it and sent the rest away. From that time he got gradually worse 
and worse, and finally died, to the great grief of his father, who would gladly have died 
too. 

Three or four years afterwards, as some of the villagers were worshipping on 
Mount Tai, they saw a man riding on a mule, the very image of Mr. Lius dead son; and, 
on approaching more closely, they saw that it was actually he.1 Jumping from his 
mule,2 he made them a salutation, and then they began to chat with him on various 
subjects, always carefully avoiding that one of his own death. They asked him what he 
was doing there; to which he replied that he was only roaming about, and inquired of 
them in his turn at what inn they were staying; For, added he, I have an 
engagement just now, but I will visit you to-morrow. So they told him the name of the 
inn, and took their leave, not expecting to see him again. 

However, the next day he came, and, tying his mule to a post outside, went in 
to see them. Your father, observed one of the villagers, is always thinking about you. 
Why do you not go and pay him a visit? The young man asked to whom he was 
alluding; and, at the mention of his fathers name, he changed colour and said, If he 
is anxious to see me, kindly tell him that on the 7th of the 4th moon I will await him 
here. He then went away, and the villagers returned and told Mr. Liu all that had 
taken place. 

At the appointed time the latter was very desirous of going to see his son; but 
his master dissuaded him, saying that he thought from what he knew of his son that 
the interview might possibly not turn out as he would desire; Although, added he, if 


you are bent upon going, I should be sorry to stand in your way. Let me, however, 
counsel you to conceal yourself in a cupboard, and thus, by observing what takes 
place, you will know better how to act, and avoid running into any danger. 

This he accordingly did, and, when his son came, Mr. [p. 426] Fa received him 
at the inn. Wheres Mr. Liu? cried the son, Oh, he hasnt come, replied Mr. Fa. The 
old beast! What does he mean by that? exclaimed his son; whereupon Mr. Fa asked 
him what he meant by cursing his own father. My father! shrieked the son; why, 
hes nothing more to me than a former rascally partner in trade, who cheated me out 
of all my money, and for which I have since avenged myself on him.3 What sort of a 
father is that, I should like to know? He then went out of the door; and his father 
crept out of the cupboard from which, with the perspiration streaming down him and 
hardly daring to breathe, he had heard all that had passed, and sorrowfully wended 
his way home again. 

 

1 In various savage superstitions the minute resemblance of soul to body is 
forcibly stated.Myths and Myth-makers, by John Fiske, p. 228. 

2 An important point in Chinese etiquette. It is not considered polite for a 
person in a sitting position to address an equal who is standing. 

3 By becoming his son and behaving badly to him. See No. CX., note 1, and the 
text to which it refers. 

CXXXVI. THE MAD PRIEST 

A CERTAIN mad priest, whose name I do not know, lived in a temple on the 
hills. He would sing and cry by turns, without any apparent reason; and once 
somebody saw him boiling a stone for his dinner. At the autumn festival of the 9th day 
of the 9th moon,[l] an official of the district went up in that direction for the usual 
picnic, taking with him his chair and his red umbrellas. After luncheon he was 
passing by the temple, and had hardly reached the door, when out rushed the priest, 
barefooted and ragged, and, himself opening a yellow umbrella, cried out as the 
attendants of a mandarin do when ordering the people to stand back. He then 
approached the official, and made as though he were jesting at him; at which the 
latter was extremely indignant, and bade his servants drive the priest away. The priest 
moved off with the servants after him, and in another moment had thrown down his 
yellow umbrella, which split into a number of pieces, each piece changing immediately 
into a falcon, and flying about in all directions. The umbrella handle became a huge 
serpent, with red scales and glaring eyes; and then the party would have turned and 
fled, but that one of them declared [p. 427] it was only an optical delusion, and that 
the creature couldnt do any hurt. The speaker accordingly seized a knife and rushed 
at the serpent, which forthwith opened its mouth and swallowed its assailant whole. 
In a terrible fright the servants crowded round their master and hurried him away, not 
stopping to draw breath until they were fully a mile off. 

By-and-by several of them stealthily returned to see what was going on; and, on 
entering the temple, they found that both priest and serpent had disappeared. But 
from an old ash-tree hard by they heard a sound proceeding,a sound, as it were, of a 
donkey panting; and at first they were afraid to go near, though after a while they 
ventured to peep through a hole in the tree, which was an old hollow trunk; and there, 


jammed hard and fast with his head downwards, was the rash assailant of the serpent. 
It being quite impossible to drag him out, they began at once to cut the tree away but 
by the time they had set him free he was already perfectly unconscious. However, he 
ultimately came round and was carried home; but from this day the priest was never 
seen again.2 

 

1 See No. CXXXI., note 2. 

2 The story is intended as a satire on those puffed-up dignitaries who cannot 
even go to a picnic without all the retinue belonging to their particular rank. See No. 
LVI., note 5. 

CXXXVII. FEASTING THE RULER OF PURGATORY 

AT Ching-hai there lived a young man, named Shao, whose family was very 
poor. On the occasion of his mother completing her cycle,l he arranged a quantity of 
meat-offerings and wine on a table in the court-yard, and proceeded to invoke the 
Gods in the usual manner; but when he rose from his knees, lo and behold! all the 
meat and wine had disappeared. His mother thought this was a bad omen, and that 
she was not destined to enjoy a long life; however, she said nothing on the subject to 
her son, who was himself quite at a loss to account for what had happened. 

A short time afterwards the Literary Chancellor[2] arrived; and young Shao, 
scraping together [p. 428] what funds he could, went off to present himself as a 
candidate. On the road he met with a man who gave him such a cordial invitation to 
his house that he willingly accepted and the stranger led him to a stately mansion, 
with towers and terraces rising one above the other as far as the eye could reach. ln 
one of the apartments was a king, sitting upon a throne, who received Shao in a very 
friendly manner; and, after regaling him with an excellent banquet, said, I have to 
thank you for the food and drink you gave my servants that day we passed your 
house. Shao was greatly astonished at this remark, when the King proceeded, I am 
the Ruler of Purgatory. Dont you recollect sacrificing on your mothers birthday? The 
King then bestowed on Shao a packet of silver, saying, Pray accept this in return for 
your kindness. Shao thanked him and retired; and in another moment the palace and 
its occupants had one and all vanished from his sight, leaving him alone in the midst 
of some tall trees. 

On opening his packet he found it to contain five ounces of pure gold; and, after 
defraying the expenses of his examination, half was still left, which he carried home 
and gave to his mother. 

 

1 See No. XXIII., note 8. 

2 The examiner for the bachelors, or lowest, degree. 

CXXXVIII. THE PICTURE HORSE 

A CERTAIN Mr. Tsui, of Lin-ching, was too poor to keep his garden walls in 
repair, and used often to find a strange horse lying down on the grass inside. It was a 
black horse marked with white, and having a scrubby tail, which looked as if the end 


had been burnt off;[1] and, though always driven away, would still return to the same 
spot. Now Mr. Tsui had a friend, who was holding an appointment in Shansi; and 
though he had frequently felt desirous of paying him a visit, he had no means of 
travelling so far. Accordingly, he one day caught the strange horse, and, putting a 
saddle on its back, rode away, telling his servants that if the owner of the horse should 
appear, he was to inform him where the animal was to be found. 

The horse [p. 429] started off at a very rapid pace, and, in a short time, they 
were thirty or forty miles from home; but at night it did not seem to care for its food, 
so the next day Mr. Tsui, who thought perhaps illness might be the cause, held the 
horse in, and would not let it gallop so fast. However, the animal did not seem to 
approve of this, and kicked and foamed until at length Mr. Tsui let it go at the same 
old pace; and by midday he had reached his destination. 

As he rode into the town, the people were astonished to hear of the marvellous 
journey just accomplished, and the Prince[2] sent to say he should like to buy the 
horse. Mr. Tsui, fearing that the real owner might come forward, was compelled to 
refuse this offer; but when, after six months had elapsed, no inquiries had been made, 
he agreed to accept eight hundred ounces of silver, and handed over the horse to the 
Prince. He then bought himself a good mule, and returned home. 

Subsequently, the Prince had occasion to use the horse for some important 
business at Lin-ching; and when there it took the opportunity to run away. The officer 
in charge pursued it right up to the house of a Mr. Tsng, who lived next door to Mr. 
Tsui, and saw it run in and disappear. Thereupon he called upon Mr. Tsng to restore 
it to him; and, on the latter declaring he had never even seen the animal, the officer 
walked into his private apartments, where he found, hanging on the wall, a picture of 
a horse, by Chn Tz.-ang,3 exactly like the one he was in search of, and with part of 
the tail burnt away by a joss-stick. 

It was now clear that the Princes horse was a supernatural creature; but the 
officer, being afraid to go back without it, would have prosecuted Mr. Tsng, had not 
Tsui, whose eight hundred ounces of silver had since increased to something like ten 
thousand, stepped in and paid back the original purchase-money. Mr. Tsng was 
exceedingly grateful to him for this act of kindness, ignorant, as he was, of the 
previous sale of the horse by Tsui to the Prince. 

 

1 The Chinese never cut the tails of their horses or mules. 

2 One of the feudal Governors of bygone days. 

3 A.D. 656-698. Better known as a poet. [p. 430] 

CXXXIX. THE BUTTERFLYS REVENGE 

MR. WANG, of Chang-shan, was in the habit, when a District Magistrate, of 
commuting the fines and penalties of the Penal Code, inflicted on the various 
prisoners, for a corresponding number of butterflies. These he would let go all at once 
in the court, rejoicing to see them fluttering hither and thither, like so many tinsel 
snippings borne about by the breeze. One night he dreamt that a young lady, dressed 
in gay-coloured clothes, appeared to him and said, Your cruel practice has brought 
many of my sisters to an untimely end, and now you shall pay the penalty of thus 


gratifying your tastes. The young lady then changed into a butterfly and flew away. 

Next day, the magistrate was sitting alone, over a cup of wine, when it was 
announced to him that the censor was at the door; and out he ran at once to receive 
His Excellency, with a white flower, that some of his women had put in his official hat, 
still sticking there. His Excellency was very angry at what he deemed a piece of 
disrespect to himself; and, after severely censuring Mr. Wang, turned round and went 
away. Thenceforward no more penalties were commuted for butterflies. 

CXL. THE DOCTOR 

A CERTAIN poor man, named Chang, who lived at I, fell in one day with a 
Taoist priest. The latter was highly skilled in the science of physiognomy;[1] and, after 
looking at Changs features, said to him, You would make your fortune as a doctor. 
Alas! replied Chang, I can barely read and write; how then could I follow such a 
calling as that? And where, you simple fellow, asked the priest, is the necessity for 
a doctor to be a scholar? You just try, thats all. Thereupon Chang returned home; 
and, being very poor, he simply collected a few of the commonest prescriptions, and 
set up a small stall with a handful of fishes teeth and some dry honey-comb [p. 431] 
from a wasps nest,2 hoping thus to earn, by his tongue, enough to keep body and 
soul together, to which, however, no one paid any particular attention. 

Now it chanced that just then the Governor of Ching-chou was suffering from a 
bad cough, and had given orders to his subordinates to send to him the most skilful 
doctors in their respective districts; and the magistrate of I, which was an out-of-the-
way mountainous district, being unable to lay his hands on any one whom he could 
send in, gave orders to the beadle[3] to do the best he could under the circumstances. 
Accordingly, Chang was nominated by the people, and the magistrate put his name 
down to go in to the Governor. When Chang heard of his appointment, he happened to 
be suffering himself from a bad attack of bronchitis, which he was quite unable to 
cure, and he begged, therefore, to be excused; but the magistrate would not hear of 
this, and forwarded him at once in charge of some constables. 

While crossing the hills, he became very thirsty, and went into a village to ask 
for a drink of water; but water there was worth its weight in jade, and no one would 
give him any. By-and-by he saw an old woman washing a quantity of vegetables in a 
scanty supply of water, which was consequently, very thick and muddy; and, being 
unable to bear his thirst any longer, he obtained this and drank it up. Shortly 
afterwards he found that his cough was quite cured, and then it occurred to him that 
he had hit upon a capital remedy. 

When he reached the city, he learned that a great many doctors had already 
tried their hand upon the patient, but without success; so asking for a private room in 
which to prepare his medicines, he obtained from the town some bunches of bishop-
wort, and proceeded to wash them as the old woman had done. He then took the dirty 
water, and gave a dose of it to the Governor, who was immediately and permanently 
relieved. The patient was overjoyed; and, besides making Chang a handsome present, 
gave him a certificate written in golden characters, in consequence of which his fame 
spread far and wide;4 and of the numerous cases he subsequently [p. 432] undertook, 
in not a single instance did he fail to effect a cure. 

One day, however, a patient came to him, complaining of a violent chill; and 
Chang, who happened to be tipsy at the time, treated him by mistake for remittent 


fever. When he got sober, he became aware of what he had done but he said nothing 
to anybody about it, and three days afterwards the same patient waited upon him with 
all kinds of presents to thank him for a rapid recovery. Such cases as this were by no 
means rare with him; and soon he got so rich that he would not attend when 
summoned to visit a sick person, unless the summons was accompanied by a heavy 
fee and a comfortable chair to ride in.5 

 

1 Advertisements of these professors of physiognomy are to be seen in every 
Chinese city. 

2 In order to make some show for the public eye. 

3 See No. LXIV., note 2, 

4 A doctor of any repute generally has large numbers of such certificates, 
generally engraved on wood, hanging before and about his front door. When I was 
stationed at Swatow, the Chinese writer at Her Majestys Consulate presented one to 
Dr. E. J. Scott, the resident medical practitioner, who had cured him of opium-
smoking. It bore two principal characters, Miraculous Indeed! accompanied by a few 
remarks, in a smaller-sized character, laudatory of Dr. Scotts professional skill. 
Banners, with graceful inscriptions written upon them, are frequently presented by 
Chinese passengers to the captains of coasting steamers who may have brought them 
safely through bad weather. 

5 The story is intended as a satire upon Chinese doctors generally, whose ranks 
are recruited from the swarms of half-educated candidates who have been rejected at 
the great competitive examinations, medical diplomas being quite unknown in China. 
Doctors fees are, by a pleasant fiction, called horse-money; and all prescriptions are 
made up by the local apothecary, never by the physician himself. 

CXLI. SNOW IN SUMMER 

ON the 6th day of the 7th moon[1] of the year Ting-Hai (1647) there was a heavy 
fall of snow at Soochow. The people were in a great state of consternation at this, and 
went off to the temple of the Great Prince[2] to pray. Then the spirit moved one of them 
to say, You now address me as Your Honour. Make it Your Excellency, and, though I 
am but a lesser deity, it may be well worth your while to do so. Thereupon the people 
began to use the latter term, and the snow stopped at once; from [p. 433] which I infer 
that flattery is just as pleasant to divine as to mortal ears.3 

 

1 This would be exactly at the hottest season. 

2 The Jupiter Pluvius of the neighbourhood, 

3 A sneer at the superstitious custom of praying for good or bad weather, which 
obtains in China from the Son of Heaven himself down to the lowest agriculturist 
whose interests are involved. Droughts, floods, famines, and pestilences are alike set 
down to the anger of Heaven, to be appeased only by prayer and repentance. 


CXLII. PLANCHETTE 

AT Chang-shan there lived a man, named Wang Jui-ting, who understood the 
art of planchette.[1] He called himself [p. 434] a disciple of L Tung-ping[2] and some 
one said he was probably that worthys crane. At his sances the subjects were always 
literaryessays, poetry, and so on. The well-known scholar, Li Chili, thought very 
highly of him, and availed himself of his aid on more than one occasion; so that by 
degrees the literati generally also patronised him. His responses to questions of doubt 
or difficulty were remarkable for their reasonableness; matters of mere good or bad 
fortune he did not care to enter into. 

In 1631, just after the examination at Chi-nan, a number of the candidates 
requested Mr. Wang to tell them how they would stand on the list; and after having 
examined their essays, he proceeded to pass his opinion on their merits.3 Among the 
rest there happened to be one who was very intimate with another candidate, not 
present, whose name was Li Pien; and who, being an enthusiastic student and a deep 
thinker, was confidently expected to appear among the successful few. Accordingly, 
the friend submitted Mr. Lis essay for inspection; and in a few minutes two characters 
appeared on the sandnamely, Number one. After a short interval this sentence 
followed:The decision given just now had reference to Mr. Lis essay simply as an 
essay. Mr. Lis destiny is darkly obscured, and he will suffer accordingly. It is strange, 
indeed, that a mans literary powers and his destiny should thus be out of harmony.4 
Surely the Examiner will judge of him by his essay;but stay: I will go and see how 
matters stand. Another pause ensued, and then these words were written down:I 
have been over to the Examiners yarnen, and have found a pretty state of things going 
on; instead of reading the candidates papers himself; he has handed them over to his 
clerks, some half-dozen illiterate fellows who purchased their own degrees, [p. 435] 
and who, in their previous existence, had no status what-ever,hungry devils[5] 
begging their bread in all directions; and who, after eight hundred years passed in the 
murky gloom of the infernal regions, have lost all discrimination, like men long buried 
in a cave and suddenly transferred to the light of day. Among them may be one or two 
who have risen above their former selves, but the odds are against an essay falling into 
the hands of one of these. The young men then begged to know if there was any 
method by which such an evil might be counteracted; to which the planchette replied 
that there was, but, as it was universally understood, there was no occasion for asking 
the question. 

Thereupon they went off and told Mr. Li, who was so much distressed at the 
prediction that he submitted his essay to His Excellency Sun Tz.-mei, one of the 
finest scholars of the day. This gentleman examined it, and was so pleased with its 
literary merit that he told Li he was quite sure to pass, and the latter thought no more 
about the planchette prophecy. However, when the list came out, there he was down 
in the fourth class; and this so much disconcerted His Excellency Mr. Sun, that he 
went carefully through the essay again for fear lest any blemishes might have escaped 
his attention. Then he cried out, Well, I have always thought this Examiner to be a 
scholar; he can never have made such a mistake as this; it must be the fault of some 
of his drunken assistants, who dont know the mere rudiments of composition. 

This fulfilment of the prophecy raised Mr. Wang very high in the estimation of 
the candidates, who forthwith went and burned incense and invoked the spirit of the 
planchette, which at once replied in the following terms:Let not Mr. Li be 


disheartened by temporary failure. Let him rather strive to improve himself still 
further, and next year he may be among the first on the list. Li carried out these 
injunctions and after a time the story reached the ears of the Examiner, who gratified 
Li by making a public acknowledgment that there had been some miscarriage of 
justice at the examination; and the following year he was passed high up on the list.6 

 

1 Planchette was in full swing in China at the date of the composition of these 
stories, more than 200 years ago, and remains so at the present day. The character chi, 
used here and elsewhere for Planchette, is defined in the Shuo Wn, a Chinese 
dictionary, published A.D. 100, to inquire by divination on doubtful topics, no 
mention being made of the particular manner in which responses are obtained. For 
the purpose of writing from personal experience, I once attended a sance at a temple 
in Amoy, and witnessed the whole performance. After much delay, I was requested to 
write on a slip of paper any question I might have to put to the God; and, accordingly, 
I took pencil and wrote down, A humble suppliant ventures to inquire if he will win 
the Manila lottery. This question was then placed upon the altar, at the feet of the 
God and shortly afterwards two respectable-looking Chinamen, not priests, 
approached a small table covered with sand, and each seized one arm of a forked piece 
of wood, at the fork of which was a stumpy end, at right angles to the plane of the 
arms. Immediately the attendants began burning quantities of joss-paper, while the 
two performers whirled the instrument round and round at a rapid rate, its vertical 
point being all the time pressed down upon the table of sand. All of a sudden the 
whirling movement stopped, and the point of the instrument rapidly traced a 
character in the sand which was at once identified by several of the bystanders, and 
forthwith copied down by a clerk in attendance. The whirling movement was then 
continued until a similar pause was made and another character appeared and so on, 
until I had four lines of correctly-rhymed Chinese verse, each line consisting of seven 
characters. The following is an almost word-for-word translation: 

The pulse of human nature throbs from England to Cathay, 

And gambling mortals ever love to swell their gains by play; 

For gold in this vile world of ours is everywhere a prize 

A thousand taels shall meet the prayer that on this altar lies. 

 

As the question is not concealed from view, all that is necessary for such a 
hollow deception is a quick-witted versifier who can put together a poetical response 
stans pede in uno. But in such matters the unlettered masses of China are easily 
outwitted, and are a profitable source of income to the more astute of their fellow-
countrymen. 

2 A recluse who flourished in the eighth century of our era, and who, for his 
devotion to the Taoist religion, was subsequently canonised as one of the Eight 
Immortals. He is generally represented as riding on a crane. 

3 That is, by means of the planchette-table. 

4 Our author was here evidently thinking of his own unlucky fate. 

5 See No. CXXXI., note 4. 

6 See No. LXXV., note I. 


CXLIII. FRIENDSHIP WITH FOXES 

A CERTAIN man had an enormous stack of straw, as big as a hill, in which his 
servants, taking what was daily required for use, had made quite a hole. In this hole a 
fox fixed his abode, and would often show himself to the master of the house under 
the form of an old man. One day the latter invited the master to walk into the cave, 
which he at first declined, but accepted on being pressed by the fox; and when he got 
inside, lo! he saw a long suite of handsome apartments. They then sat down, and 
exquisitely perfumed tea and wine were brought; but the place was so gloomy that 
there was no difference between night and day. By-and-by, the entertainment being 
over, the guest took his leave; and on looking back the beautiful rooms and their 
contents had all disappeared. 

The old man himself was in the habit of going away in the evening and 
returning with the first streaks of morning; and as no one was able to follow him, the 
master of the house asked him one day whither he went. To this he replied that a 
friend invited him to take wine; and then the master begged to be allowed to 
accompany him, a proposal to which the old man very reluctantly consented. However, 
he seized the master by the arm, and away they went as though riding on the wings of 
the wind; and, in about the time it takes to cook a pot of millet, they reached a city, 
and walked into a restaurant, where there were a number of people drinking together 
and making a great noise. The old man led his companion to a gallery above, from 
which they could look down on the feasters below; and he himself went down and 
brought away from the tables all kinds of nice food and wine, without appearing to be 
seen or noticed by any of the company. After awhile a man dressed in red garments 
came forward and laid upon the table some dishes of cumquats;[1] and the master at 
once requested the old man to go down and get him some of these. Ah, replied the 
latter, that is an upright man: I cannot approach him. Thereupon the master said to 
[p. 437] himself, By thus seeking the companionship of a fox, I then am deflected 
from the true course. Henceforth I, too, will be an upright man. 

No sooner had he formed this resolution, than he suddenly lost all control over 
his body, and fell from the gallery down among the revellers below. These gentlemen 
were much astonished by his unexpected descent; and he himself, looking up, saw 
there was no gallery to the house, but only a large beam upon which he had been 
sitting. He now detailed the whole of the circumstances, and those present made up a 
purse for him to pay his travelling expenses; for he was at Yu-taione thousand li 
from home. 

 

1 Literally, golden oranges. These are skilfully preserved by the Cantonese, 
and form a delicious sweetmeat for dessert, 

CXLIV. THE GREAT RAT 

DURING the reign of the Emperor Wan Li,[1] the palace was troubled by the 
presence of a huge rat, quite as big as a cat, which ate up all the cats that were set to 
catch it. Just then it chanced that among the tribute offerings sent by some foreign 
State was a lion-cat, as white as snow. This cat was accordingly put into the room 
where the rat usually appeared; and, the door being closely shut, a secret watch was 
kept. By-and-by the rat came out of its hole and rushed at the cat, which turned and 


fled, finally jumping up on the table. The rat followed, upon which the cat jumped 
down; and thus they went on up and down for some time. Those who were watching 
said the cat was afraid and of no use; however, in a little while the rat began to jump 
less briskly, and soon after squatted down out of breath. Then the cat rushed at it, 
and, seizing the rat by the back of the neck, shook and shook while its victim 
squeaked and squeaked, until life was extinct. Thus they knew that the cat was not 
afraid, but merely waited for its adversary to be fatigued, fleeing when pursued and 
itself pursuing the fleeing rat. Truly, many a bad swordsman may be compared with 
that rat! 

 

1 A.D. 1573-1620 the epoch of the most celebrated blue china. 

CXLV. WOLVES 

I.A CERTAIN village butcher, who had bought some meat at market and was 
returning home in the evening, suddenly came across a wolf, which followed him 
closely, its mouth watering at the sight of what he was carrying. The butcher drew his 
knife and drove the animal off; and then reflecting that his meat was the attraction, he 
determined to hang it up in a tree and fetch it the next morning. This he accordingly 
did, and the wolf followed him no further; but when he went at daylight to recover his 
property, he saw something hanging up in the tree resembling a human corpse. It 
turned out to be the wolf, which, in its efforts to get at the meat, had been caught on 
the meat-hook like a fish; and as the skin of a wolf was just then worth ten ounces of 
silver, the butcher found himself possessed of quite a little capital. Here we have a 
laughable instance of the result of climbing trees to catch fish.1 

II.A butcher, while travelling alone at night, was sore pressed by a wolf, and 
took refuge in an old mat shed which had been put up for the watchman of the crops. 
There he lay, while the wolf sniffed at him from outside, and at length thrust in one of 
its paws from underneath. This the butcher seized hold of at once, and held it firmly, 
so that the wolf couldnt stir; and then, having no other weapon at hand, he took a 
small knife he had with him and slit the skin underneath the wolfs paw. He now 
proceeded to blow into it, as butchers blow into pork; 2 and after vigorously blowing 
for some time, he found that the wolf had ceased to struggle; upon which he went 
outside and saw the animal lying on the ground, swelled up to the size of a cow, and 
unable to bend its legs or close its open mouth. Thereupon he threw it across his 
shoulders and carried it off home. However, such a feat as this could only be 
accomplished by a butcher. 

 

1 A satirical remark of Mencius (Book I.), used by the sage when combating the 
visionary projects of a monarch of antiquity. 

2 This disgusting process is too frequently performed by native butchers at the 
present day, in order to give their meat a more tempting appearance. Water is also 
blown in through a tube, to make it heavier and inexperienced housekeepers are often 
astonished to find how light ducks and geese become after being cooked, not knowing 
that the fraudulent poulterer had previously stuffed their throats as full as possible of 
sand. 


CXLVI. SINGULAR VERDICT 

A SERVANT in the employ of a Mr. Sun was sleeping alone one night, when all 
of a sudden he was arrested and carried before the tribunal of the Ruler of Purgatory. 
This is not the right man, cried His Majesty, and immediately sent him back. 
However, after this the servant was afraid to sleep on that bed again, and took up his 
quarters elsewhere. But another servant, named Kuo Ngan, seeing the vacant place, 
went and occupied it. A third servant, named Li Lu, who had an old standing grudge 
against the first, stole up to the bed that same night with a knife in his hand, and 
killed Kuo Ngan[1] in mistake for his enemy. Kuos father at once brought the case 
before the magistrate of the place, pleading that the murdered man was his only son 
on whom he depended for his living; and the magistrate decided that Kuo was to take 
Li Lu in the place of his dead son, much to the discomfiture of the old man. Truly the 
descent of the first servant into Purgatory was not so marvellous as the magistrates 
decision! 

 

1 This was the man whose destiny it was really to die just then, and appear 
before the Ruler of Purgatory. 

CXLVII. THE GRATEFUL DOG 

A CERTAIN trader who had been doing business at Wu-hu and was returning 
home with the large profits he had made, saw on the river-bank a butcher tying up a 
dog.1 He bought the animal for much more than its value, and carried it along with 
him in his boat. Now the boatman had formerly been a bandit; and, tempted by his 
passengers [p. 440] wealth, ran the boat among the rushes, and, drawing a knife, 
prepared to slay him. The trader begged the man to leave him a whole skin;2 so the 
boatman wrapped him up in a carpet and threw him into the river. The dog, on seeing 
what was done, whined piteously, and, jumping into the river, seized the bundle with 
his teeth and did his best to keep the trader above water until at length a shallow spot 
was reached. The animal then succeeded by continuous barking in attracting the 
attention of some people on the bank, and they hauled the bundle out of the river, and 
released the trader, who was still alive. 

The latter asked to be taken back to Wu-hu, where he might look out for the 
robber boatman; but just as he was about to start, lo the dog was missing. The trader 
was much distressed at this; and after spending some days at Wu-hu without being 
able to find, among the forest of masts collected there, the particular boat he wanted, 
he was on the point of returning home with a friend, when suddenly the dog 
reappeared, and seemed by its barking to invite its master to follow in a certain 
direction. This the trader did, until at length the dog jumped on a boat and seized one 
of the boatmen by the leg. No beating could make the animal let go; and on looking 
closely at the man, the trader saw he was the identical boatman who had robbed and 
tried to murder him. He had changed his clothes and also his boat, so that at first he 
was not recognisable; he was now, however, arrested, and the whole of the money was 
found in his boat. 

To think that a dog could show gratitude like that! Truly there are not a few 
persons who would be put to shame by that faithful animal.3 

 


1 The city of Canton boasts several cat and dog restaurants; but the 
consumption of this kind of food is much less universal than is generally supposed. 

2 Not in our sense of the term. It was not death, but decapitation, or even 
mutilation, from which the trader begged to be spared. See No. LXXII., note 6. 

3 The Chinese dog is usually an ill-fed, barking cur, without one redeeming 
trait in its character. Valued as a guardian of house and property, this animal does 
not hold the same social position as with us; its very name is a byword of reproach; 
and the people of Tongking explain their filthy custom of blackening the teeth on the 
ground that a dogs teeth are white. [p. 441] 

CXLVIII. THE GREAT TEST 

BEFORE Mr. Yang Ta-hung[1] was known to fame, he had already acquired 
some reputation as a scholar in his own part of the country, and felt convinced himself 
that his was to be no mean destiny. When the list of successful candidates at the 
examination was brought to where he lived, he was in the middle of dinner, and 
rushed out with his mouth full to ask if his name was there or not; and on hearing 
that it was not, he experienced such a revulsion of feeling that what he then swallowed 
stuck fast like a lump in his chest and made him very ill. His friends tried to appease 
him by advising him to try at the further examination of the rejected, and when he 
urged that he had no money, they subscribed ten ounces of silver and started him on 
his way. 

That night he dreamt that a man appeared to him and said, Ahead of you there 
is one who can cure your complaint: beseech him to aid you. The man then added 

A tune on the flute neath the riverside willow 

Oh, show no regret when tis cast to the billow! 

 

Next day, Mr. Yang actually met a Taoist priest sitting beneath a willow tree; and, 
making him a bow, asked him to prescribe for his malady. You have come to the 
wrong person, replied the priest, smiling; I cannot cure diseases; but had you asked 
me for a tune on the flute, I could have possibly helped you. Then Mr. Yang knew that 
his dream was being fulfilled; and going down on his knees offered the priest all the 
money he had. The priest took it, but immediately threw it into the river, at which Mr. 
Yang, thinking how hardly he had come by his money, was moved to express his 
regret. Aha! cried the priest at this; so you are not indifferent, eh? Youll find your 
money all safe on the bank. There indeed Mr. Yang found it, at which he was so much 
astonished that he [p. 442] addressed the priest as though he had been an angel. I 
am no angel, said the priest, but here comes one; whereupon Mr. Yang looked 
behind him, and the priest seized the opportunity to give him a slap on the back, 
crying out at the same time, You worldly-minded fellow! This blow brought up the 
lump of food that had stuck in his chest, and he felt better at once; but when he 
looked round the priest had disappeared.2 

 

1 A celebrated scholar and statesman, who flourished towards the close of the 
Ming dynasty, and distinguished himself by his impeachment of the powerful eunuch, 
Wei Chung-hsien,a dangerous step to take in those eunuch-ridden times. 


2 Mr. Yang was a man of tried virtue, and had he been able to tolerate the loss 
of his money, the priest would have given him, not merely a cure for the bodily ailment 
under which he was sufering, but a knowledge of those means by which he might have 
obtained the salvation of his soul, and have enrolled himself among the ranks of the 
Taoist Immortals. To those, however, remarks the author, who lament that Mr. Yang 
was too worldly-minded to secure this great prize, I reply, Better one more good man 
on earth, than an extra angel in heaven. 

CXLIX. THE ALCHEMIST[1] 

AT Chang-ngan there lived a scholar named Chia Tz.-lung, who one day 
noticed a very refined-looking stranger; and, on making inquiries about him, learnt 
that he was a Mr. Chn who had taken lodgings hard by. Accordingly, next day Chia 
called and sent in his card, but did not see Chn, who happened to be out at the time. 
The same thing occurred thrice, and at length Chia engaged some one to watch. and 
let him know when Mr. Chn was at home. However, even then the latter would not 
come forth to receive his guest, and Chia had to go in and rout him out. 

The two now entered into conversation, and soon became mutually charmed 
with each other and by-and-by Chia sent off a servant to bring wine from a 
neighbouring wine-shop. Mr. Chn proved himself a pleasant boon companion, and 
when the wine was nearly finished, he went to a box and took from it some wine-cups 
and a large and beautiful jade tankard, into the latter of which he poured a single cup 
of wine, and lo! it was filled to the brim. They then proceeded to help themselves from 
the tankard; but how [p. 443] ever much they took out, the contents never seemed to 
diminish. Chia was astonished at this, and begged Mr. Chn to tell him how it was 
done. Ah, replied Mr. Chn, I tried to avoid making your acquaintance solely 
because of your one bad qualityavarice. The art I practise is a secret known to the 
Immortals only: how can I divulge it to you? You do me wrong, rejoined Chia, in 
thus attributing avarice to me. The avaricious, indeed, are always poor. Mr. Chn 
laughed, and they separated for that day; but from that time they were constantly 
together, and all ceremony was laid aside between them. 

Whenever Chia wanted money, Mr. Chn would bring out a black stone, and, 
muttering a charm, would rub it on a tile or a brick, which was forthwith changed into 
a lump of silver. This silver he would give to Chia, and it was always just as much as 
he actually required, neither more nor less; and if ever the latter asked for more, Mr. 
Chn would rally him on the subject of avarice. 

Finally, Chia determined to try and get possession of this stone; and one day, 
when Mr. Chn was sleeping off the fumes of a drinking-bout, he tried to extract it 
from his clothes. However, Chn detected him at once, and declared that they could be 
friends no more, and next day he left the place altogether. About a year afterwards 
Chia was one day wandering by the river-bank, when he saw a handsome-looking 
stone, marvellously like that in the possession of Mr. Chn; and he picked it up at 
once and carried it home with him. 

A few days passed away, and suddenly Mr. Chn presented himself at Chias 
house, and explained that the stone in question possessed the property of changing 
anything into gold, and had been bestowed upon him long before by a certain Taoist 
priest, whom he had followed as a disciple. Alas! added he, I got tipsy and lost it; 
but divination told me where it was, and if you will now restore it to me, I shall take 


care to repay your kindness. You have divined rightly, replied Chia; the stone is 
with me; but recollect, if you please, that the indigent Kuan Chung[2] shared the 
wealth of his friend Pao Shu. At this hint Mr. Chn said he would give Chia one 
hundred ounces of silver; to which the latter replied that one hundred ounces was a 
fair offer, but that he would far sooner have Mr. Chn teach him the [p. 444] formula 
to utter when rubbing the stone on anything, so as just to try the thing once himself. 
Mr. Chn was afraid to do this; whereupon Chia cried out, You are an Immortal 
yourself; you must know well enough that I would never deceive a friend. So Mr. Chn 
was prevailed upon to teach him the formula, and then Chia would have tried the art 
upon the immense stone washing-block[3] which was lying near at hand had not Mr. 
Chn seized his arm and begged. him not to do anything so outrageous. Chia then 
picked up half a brick and laid it on the washing-block, saying to Mr. Chn, This little 
piece is not too much, surely? Accordingly, Mr. Chn relaxed his hold and let Chia 
proceed; which he did by promptly ignoring the half brick and quickly rubbing the 
stone on the washing-block. Mr. Chn turned pale when he saw him do this, and 
made a. dash. forward to get hold of the stone; but it was too late, the washing-block 
was already a solid mass of silver, and Chia quietly handed him back the stone, Alas! 
alas! cried Mr. Chn in despair, what is to be done now? For having. thus irregularly 
conferred wealth upon a mortal,4 Heaven will surely punish me. Oh, if you would save 
me, give away one hundred coffins[5] and one hundred suits of wadded clothes. My 
friend, replied Chia, my object in getting money was not to hoard it up like a miser. 

Mr. Chn was delighted at this and during the next three years Chia engaged in 
trade, taking care to be all the time fulfilling his promise to Mr. Chn. At the expiration 
of that time Mr. Chn himself reappeared, and, grasping Chias hand, said to him, 
Trustworthy and noble friend, when we last parted the Spirit of Happiness impeached 
me before God,6 and my name was erased from the list of angels. But now that you 
have carried out my request, [p. 445] that sentence has accordingly been rescinded. 
Go on as you have begun, without ceasing. Chia asked Mr. Chn what office he filled 
in heaven; to which the latter replied that he was only a fox, who, by a sinless life, had 
finally attained to that clear perception of the Truth which leads to immortality. Wine 
was then brought, and the two friends enjoyed themselves together as of old; and even 
when Chia had passed the age of ninety years, that fox still used to visit him from time 
to time. 

 

1 Alchemy is first mentioned in Chinese history B.C. 133, and was widely 
cultivated in China during the Han dynasty by priests of the Taoist religion. 

2 See No. XXII., note 1. 

3 These are used, together with a heavy wooden baton, by the Chinese 
washerman, the effect being most disastrous to a European wardrobe, 

4 For thus interfering with the appointments of destiny. 

5 To provide coffins for poor people has ever been regarded as an act of 
transcendent merit. The tornado at Canton in April 1878, in which several thousand 
lives were lost, afforded an admirable opportunity for the exercise of this form of 
charityan opportunity which was very largely availed of by the benevolent. 

6 For usurping its prerogative by allowing Chia to obtain unauthorised wealth. 


CL. RAISING THE DEAD 

MR. TANG PING, who took the highest degree in the year 1661, was suffering 
from a protracted illness, when suddenly he felt, as it were, a warm glow rising from 
his extremities upwards. By the time it had reached his knees, his feet were perfectly 
numb and without sensation; and before long his knees and the lower part of his body 
were similarly affected. Gradually this glow worked its way up until it attacked the 
heart,1 and then some painful moments ensued. Every single incident of Mr. Tangs 
life from his boyhood upwards, no matter how trivial, seemed to surge through his 
mind, borne along on the tide of his hearts blood. At the revival of any virtuous act of 
his, he experienced a delicious feeling of peace and calm; but when any wicked deed 
passed before his mind, a painful disturbance took place within him, like oil boiling 
and fretting in a cauldron. He was quite unable to describe the pangs he suffered: 
however, he mentioned that he could recollect having stolen, when only seven or eight 
years old, some young birds from their nest, and having killed them; and for this alone, 
he said, boiling blood rushed through his heart during the space of an ordinary meal-
time. Then when all the acts of his life had passed one after another in panorama 
before him, the warm glow proceeded up his throat, and, entering the brain, issued 
out at the top of his head like smoke from a chimney. 

By-and-by Mr. Tangs soul escaped from his body by the same aperture, and 
wandered far away, forgetting all about the tenement it had [p. 446] left behind. Just 
at that moment a huge giant carne along, and, seizing the soul, thrust it into his 
sleeve, where it remained cramped and confined, huddled up with a crowd of others, 
until existence was almost unbearable. Suddenly Mr. Tang reflected that Buddha 
alone could save him from this horrible state, and forthwith he began to call upon his 
holy name.2 At the third or fourth invocation he fell out of the giants sleeve, 
whereupon the latter picked him up and put him back; but this happened several 
times, and at length the giant, wearied of picking him up, let him lie where he was. 

The soul lay there for some time, not knowing in which direction to proceed; 
however, it soon recollected that the land of Buddha was in the west, and westwards 
accordingly it began to shape its course. In a little while the soul came upon a 
Buddhist priest sitting by the roadside, and hastening forwards, respectfully inquired 
of him which was the right way. The record of life and death for scholars, replied the 
priest, is in the hands of Wn-chang[3] and Confucius; any application must receive 
the consent of both. 

The priest then directed Mr. Tang on his way, and the latter journeyed along 
until he reached a Confucian temple, in which the Sage was sitting with his face to the 
south.4 On hearing his business, Confucius referred him on to Wn-chang; and, 
proceeding onwards in the direction indicated, Mr. Tang by-and-by arrived at what 
seemed to be the palace of a king, within which sat Wn-chang precisely as we depict 
him on earth. You are an upright man, replied the God, in reply to Mr. Tangs prayer, 
and are certainly entitled to a longer span of life; but by this time your mortal body 
has become decomposed, and unless you can secure the assistance of Pu-sa,5 I can 
give you no aid. 

So Mr. Tang set off once more, and hurried along until he came to a 
magnificent shrine standing in a thick grove of tall bamboos; and, entering in, he 
stood in the presence of the God, on whose head was the ushnisha,6 whose golden [p. 
447] face was round like the full moon, and at whose side was a green willow-branch 


bending gracefully over the lip of a vase. Humbly Mr. Tang prostrated himself on the 
ground, and repeated what Wn-chang had, said to him; but Pu-sa seemed to think it 
would be impossible to grant his request, until one of the Lohans[7] who stood by 
cried out, O God, Thou canst perform this miracle: take earth and make his flesh; 
take a sprig of willow and make his bones. Thereupon Pu-sa broke off a piece from 
the willow-branch in the vase beside him; and, pouring a little of the water upon the 
ground, he made clay, and, casting the whole over Mr. Tangs soul, bade an attendant 
lead the body back to the place where his coffin was. 

At that instant Mr. Tangs family heard a groan proceeding from within his 
coffin, and, on rushing to it and helping out the lately-deceased man, they found he 
had quite recovered. He had then been dead seven days. 

 

1 See No. XIV., note 5. 

2 See No. LIV., note 3. 

3 The God of Literature. 

4 See No. LXXVIL, note 1. 

5 See No. XXVI, note 5. 

6 A fleshy protuberance on the head, which is the distinguishing mark of a 
Buddha. 

7 The eighteen personal disciples of Shakyamuni Buddha. Sixteen of these are 
Hindoos, which number was subsequently increased by the addition of two Chinese 
Buddhists. 

CLI. FNG-SHUI[1] 

AT I-chou there lived a high official named Sung, whose family were all ardent 
supporters of Fng-Shui; so much so, that even the women-folk read books[2] on the 
subject, and understood the principles of the science. When Mr. [p. 448] Sung died, 
his two sons set up separate establishments,3 and each invited to his own house 
geomancers from far and near, who had any reputation in their art, to select a spot for 
the dead mans grave. By degrees, they had collected together as many as a hundred 
apiece, and every day they would scour the country round, each at the head of his 
own particular regiment. After about a month of this work, both sides had fixed upon 
a suitable position for the grave; and the geomancers engaged by one brother declared 
that if their spot was selected he would certainly some day be made a marquis, while 
the other brother was similarly informed, by his geomancers, that by adopting their 
choice, he would infallibly rise to the rank of Secretary of State. Thus, neither brother 
would give way to the other, but each set about making the grave in his own particular 
place,pitching marquees, and arranging banners, and making all necessary 
preparations for the funeral. 

Then when the coffin arrived at the point where roads branched off to the two 
graves, the two brothers, each leading on his own little army of geomancers, bore 
down upon it with a view to gaining possession of the corpse. From morn till dewy eve 
the battle raged; and as neither gained any advantage over the other, the mourners 
and friends, who had come to witness the ceremony of burial, stole away one by one 


and the coolies, who were carrying the coffin, after changing the poles from one 
shoulder to another until they were quite worn out, put the body down by the roadside, 
and went off home. 

It then became necessary to make some protection for the coffin against the 
wind and rain; whereupon the elder brother immediately set about building a hut 
close by, in which he purposed leaving some of his attendants to keep guard; but he 
had no sooner begun than the younger brother followed his example; and when the 
elder built a second and third, the younger also built a second and third and as this 
went on for the space of three whole years, by the end of that time the place had 
become quite a little village. 

By-and-by, both brothers died, one directly after the other; and then their two 
wives determined to cast to [p. 449] the winds the decision of each party of 
geomancers. Accordingly, they went together to the two spots in question; and after 
inspecting them carefully, declared that neither was suitable. The next step was to 
jointly engage another set of geomancers, who submitted for their approval several 
different spots, and ten days had hardly passed away before the two women had 
agreed upon the position for their father-in-laws grave, which, as the wife of the 
younger brother prophesied, would surely give to the family a high military degree. So 
the body was buried, and within three years Mr. Sungs eldest grandson, who had 
entered as a military cadet, actually took the corresponding degree to a literary master 
of arts. 

[Fng-Shui, adds the author, may or may not be based upon sound 
principles; at any rate, to indulge a morbid belief in it is utter folly; and thus to join 
issue and fight while a coffin is relegated to the roadside, is hardly in accordance with 
the doctrines of filial piety or fraternal love. Can people believe that mere Position will 
improve the fortunes of their family? At any rate, that two women should have thus 
quietly settled the matter is certainly worthy of record.] 

 

1 Literally, wind and water, or that which cannot be seen and that which 
cannot be grasped. I have explained the term in my Chinese Sketches, p. 143, as a 
system of geomancy, by the science of which it is possible to determine the desirability 
of sites,whether of tombs, houses, or cities, from the configuration of such natural 
objects as rivers, trees, and hills, and to foretell with certainty the fortunes of any 
family, community, or individual according to the spot selected; by the art of which it 
is in the power of the geomancer to counteract evil influences by good ones, to 
transform straight and noxious outlines into undulating and propitious curves, and 
rescue whole districts from the devastation of flood or pestilence. 

2 As a rule, only the daughters of wealthy families receive any education to 
speak of. 

3. A reprehensible proceeding in the eyes of all respectable Chinese, both from a 
moral and a practical point of view; for when brothers fall out, says the proverb, 
strangers get an advantage over them. 

CLII. THE LINGERING DEATH 

THERE was a man in our village who led an exceedingly disreputable life. One 
morning when he got up rather early, two men appeared, and led him away to the 


marketplace, where he saw a butcher hanging up half a pig. As they approached, the 
two men shoved him with all their might against the dead animal, and lo! his own 
flesh began to blend with the pork before him, while his conductors hurried off in an 
opposite direction. By-and-by the butcher wanted to sell a piece of his meat; and, 
seizing a knife, began to cut off the quantity required.. At every touch of the blade our 
disreputable friend experienced a severe pang, which penetrated into his very marrow; 
and when, at length, an old man came and haggled over the weight given him, crying 
out for a little bit more fat, or an extra portion [p. 450] of lean,1 then, as the butcher 
sliced away the pork ounce by ounce, the pain was unendurable in the extreme. 

By about nine oclock the pork was all sold, and our hero went home, 
whereupon his family asked him what he meant by staying in bed so late.2 He then 
narrated all that had taken place, and on making inquiries, they found that the pork 
butcher had only just come home; besides which our friend was able to tell him every 
pound of meat he had sold, and every slice. he had cut off. Fancy a man being put to 
the lingering death[3] like this before breakfast! 

 

1 Chinese tradesmen invariably begin by giving short weight in such 
transactions as these, partly in order to be in a position to gratify the customer by 
throwing in a trifle more and thus acquire a reputation for fair dealing. 

2 It was only his soul that had left the house. 

3 See No. LVI., note 12. 

CLIII. DREAMING HONOURS 

WANG Tzu-NGAN was a Tung-chang man, and a scholar of some repute, but 
unfortunate at the public examinations. On one occasion, after having been up for his 
masters degree, his anxiety was very great; and when the time for the publication of 
the list drew near, he drank himself gloriously tipsy, and went and lay down on the 
bed. In a few moments a man rushed in, and cried out, Sir! you have passed! 
whereupon Wang jumped up, and. said, Give him ten strings of cash.1 Wangs wife, 
seeing he was drunk, and wishing to keep him quiet, replied, You go on sleeping: Ive 
given him the money. 

So Wang lay down again, but before long in came another man who informed 
Wang that his name was among the successful candidates for the highest degree. 
Why, I havent been up for it yet, said Wang; how can I have passed? What! you 
dont mean to say you have forgotten the examination? answered the man; and then 
Wang got up once more, and gave orders to present the informant with ten strings of 
cash. All right, replied his wife; [p. 451] you go on sleeping: Ive given him the 
money. 

Another short interval, and in burst a third messenger to say that Wang had 
been elected a member of the National Academy, and that two official servants had 
come to escort him thither. Sure enough there were the two servants bowing at the 
bedside, and accordingly Wang directed that they should be served with wine and 
meat, which his wife, smiling at his drunken nonsense, declared had been already 
done. Wang now bethought him that he should go out and receive the congratulations 
of the neighbours, and roared out several times to his official servants; but without 
receiving any answer. Go to sleep, said his wife, and wait till I have fetched them; 


and after awhile the servants actually came in; whereupon Wang stamped and swore 
at them for being such idiots as to go away. 

What! you wretched scoundrel, cried the servants, are you cursing us in 
earnest, when we are only joking with you! At this Wangs rage knew no bounds, and 
he set upon the men, and gave them a sound beating, knocking the hat of one off on 
to the ground. In the mle, he himself tumbled over, and his wife ran in to pick him 
up, saying, Shame upon you, for getting so drunk as this! I was only punishing the 
servants as they deserved,, replied Wang; why do you call me drunk? Do you mean 
the old woman who cooks our rice and boils the water for your foot-bath, asked his 
wife, smiling, that you talk of servants to wait upon your poverty-stricken carcase? 
At this sally all the women burst out in a roar of laughter; and Wang, who was just 
beginning to get sober, waked up as if from a dream, and knew that there was no 
reality in all that had taken place. 

However, he recollected the spot where the servants hat had fallen off, and on 
going thither to look for it, lo! he beheld a tiny official hat, no larger than a wine-cup, 
lying there behind the door. They were all much astonished at this, and Wang himself 
cried out, Formerly people were thus tricked by devils; and now foxes are playing the 
fool with me!2 

 

1 See No. CXXIII., note 2. 

2 A common saying is, Foxes in the north; devils in the south, as illustrative 
of the folk-lore of these two great divisions of China. [p. 452] 

CLIV. THE SHE-WOLF AND THE HERD-BOYS 

TWO herd-boys went up among the hills and found a wolfs lair with two little 
wolves in it. Seizing each of them one, they forthwith climbed two trees which stood 
there, at a distance of forty or fifty paces apart. Before long the old wolf came back, 
and, finding her cubs gone, was in a great state of distress. Just then, one of the herd-
boys pinched his cub and made it squeak; whereupon the mother ran angrily towards 
the tree whence the sound proceeded, and tried to climb up it. At this juncture, the 
boy in the other tree pinched the other cub, and thereby diverted the wolfs attention 
in that direction. But no sooner had she reached the foot of the second tree, than the 
boy who had first pinched his cub did so again, and away ran the old wolf back to the 
tree in which her other young one was. Thus they went on time after time, until the 
mother was dead tired, and lay down exhausted on the ground. 

Then, when after some time she showed no signs of moving, the herd-boys crept 
stealthily down, and found that the wolf was already stiff and cold. And truly, it is 
better to meet a blustering foe with his hand upon his sword-hilt, by retiring within 
doors, and leaving him to fret his violence away unopposed; for such is but the 
behaviour of brute beasts, of which men thus take advantage. 

CLV. ADULTERATION[1] PUNISHED 

AT Chin-ling there lived a seller of spirits, who was in the habit of adulterating 
his liquor with water and a certain drug, the effect of which was that even a few cups 
would make the strongest-headed man as drunk as a jelly-fish.2 Thus his shop 


acquired a reputation for having a good article on sale, and by degrees he became a 
rich man. One [p. 453] morning, on getting up, he found a fox lying drunk alongside of 
the spirit vat; and tying its legs together, he was about to fetch a knife, when suddenly 
the fox waked up, and began pleading for its life, promising in return to do anything 
the spirit-merchant might require. The latter then released the animal, which instantly 
changed into the form of a human being. Now, at that very time, the wife of a 
neighbour was suffering under fox influence, and this recently-transformed animal 
confessed to the spirit-merchant that it was he who had been troubling her. 
Thereupon the spirit-merchant, who knew the lady in question to be a celebrated 
beauty, begged his fox friend to secretly introduce him to her. 

After raising some objections, the fox at length consented, and conducted the 
spirit-merchant to a cave, where he gave him a suit of serge clothes, which he said 
had belonged to his late brother, and in which he told him he could easily go. The 
merchant put them on, and returned home, when, to his great delight, he observed 
that no one could see him, but that if he changed into his ordinary clothes everybody 
could see him as before. Accordingly he set off with the fox for his neighbours house; 
and, when they arrived, the first thing they beheld was a charm on the wall, like a 
great wriggling dragon. At this the fox was greatly alarmed, and said, That scoundrel 
of a priest! I cant go any farther. He then ran off home, leaving the spirit-merchant to 
proceed by himself. The latter walked quietly in, to find that the dragon on the wall 
was a real one, and preparing to fly at him, so he too turned, and ran away as fast as 
his legs could carry him. The fact was that the family had engaged a priest to drive 
away the fox influence; and he, not being able to go at the moment himself, gave them 
this charm to stick up on the wall. 

The following day the priest himself came, and, arranging an altar, proceeded to 
exorcise the fox. All the villagers crowded round to see, and among others was the 
spirit-merchant, who, in the middle of the ceremony, suddenly changed colour, and 
hurried out of the front door, where he fell on the ground in the shape of a fox, having 
his clothes still hanging about his arms and legs. The bystanders would have killed 
him on the spot, but his wife begged them to spare him; and the priest let her take the 
fox home, where in a few days it died. [p. 454] 

 

1 In no country in the world is adulteration more extensively practised than in 
China, the only formal check upon it being a religious onethe dread of punishment 
in the world below. 

2 The text has here a word (literally, mud ) explained to be the name of a 
boneless aquatic creature, which on being removed from the water lies motionless like 
a lump of mud. The common term for a jelly-fish is shui-mu, water-mother. 

CLVI. A CHINESE SOLOMON 

IN our district there lived two men, named Hu Chng and Fng Ngan, between 
whom there existed an old feud. The former, however, was the stronger of the two; and 
accordingly Fng disguised his feelings under a specious appearance of friendship, 
though Hu never placed much faith in his professions. One day they were drinking 
together, and being both of them rather the worse for liquor, they began to brag of the 
various exploits they had achieved. What care I for poverty, cried Hu, when I can lay 
a hundred ounces of silver on the table at a moments notice? Now Fng was well 


aware of the state of Hus affairs, and did not hesitate to scout such pretensions, until 
Hu further informed him in perfect seriousness that the day before he had met a 
merchant travelling with a large sum of money and had tumbled him down a dry well 
by the wayside; in confirmation of which he produced several hundred ounces of silver, 
which really belonged to a brother-in-law on whose behalf he was managing some 
negotiations for the purchase of land. 

When they separated, Fng went off and gave information to the magistrate of 
the place, who summoned Hu to answer to the charge. Hu then told the actual facts of 
the case, and his brother-in-law and the owner of the land in question corroborated 
his statement. However, on examining the dry well by letting a man down with.a rope 
round him, lo! there was a headless corpse lying at the bottom. Hu was horrified at 
this, and called Heaven to witness that he was innocent; whereupon the magistrate 
ordered him twenty or thirty blows on the mouth for lying in the presence of such 
irrefragable proof, and cast him into the condemned cell, where he lay loaded with 
chains. 

Orders were issued that the corpse was not to be removed, and a notification 
was made to the people, calling upon the relatives of the deceased to come forward 
and claim the body. Next day a woman appeared, and said deceased was her husband; 
that his name was Ho, and that he was proceeding on business with a large sum of 
money about him when he was killed by Hu. The magistrate observed that possibly 
the body in the well might not be that of her [p. 455] husband, to which the woman 
replied that she felt sure it was; and accordingly the corpse was brought up and 
examined, when the womans story was found to be correct. She herself did not go 
near the body, but stood at a little distance making the most doleful lamentations; 
until at length the magistrate said, We have got the murderer, but the body is not 
complete; you go home and wait until the head has been discovered, when life shall be 
given for life. 

He then summoned Hu before him, and told him to produce the head by the 
next day under penalty of severe torture; but Hu only wandered about with the guard 
sent in charge of him, crying and lamenting his fate, but finding nothing. The 
instruments of torture were then produced, and preparations were made as if for 
torturing Hu; however, they were not applied,1 and finally the magistrate sent him 
back to prison, saying, I suppose that in your hurry you didnt notice where you 
dropped the head. The woman was then brought before him again; and on learning 
that her relatives consisted only of one uncle, the magistrate remarked, A young 
woman like you, left alone in the world, will hardly be able to earn a livelihood. [Here 
she burst into tears and implored the magistrates pity.] The punishment of the guilty 
man has been already decided upon, but until we get the head, the case cannot be 
closed. As soon as it is closed, the best thing you can do is to marry again. A young 
woman like yourself should not be in and out of a police court. The woman thanked 
the magistrate and retired; and the latter issued a notice to the people, calling upon 
them to make a search for the head. 

On the following day, a man named Wang, a fellow villager of the deceased, 
reported that he had found the missing head; and his report proving to be true, he 
was rewarded with 1000 cash. The magistrate now summoned the womans uncle 
above mentioned, and told him that the case was complete, but that as it involved 
such an important matter as the life of a human being, there would necessarily be 
some delay in closing it for good and all.2 [p. 456] Meanwhile, added the magistrate, 


your niece is a young woman and has no children; persuade her to marry again and 
so keep herself out of these troubles, and never mind what people may say.3 The 
uncle at first refused to do this; upon which the magistrate was obliged to threaten 
him, until he was ultimately forced to consent. 

At this, the woman appeared before the magistrate to thank him for what he 
had done; whereupon the latter gave out that any person who was willing to take the 
woman to wife was to present himself at his yamn. Immediately afterwards an 
application was madeby the very man who had found the head. The magistrate then 
sent for the woman and asked her if she could say who was the real murderer; to 
which she replied that Hu Chng had done the deed. No! cried the magistrate; it 
was not he. It was you and this man here. [Here both began loudly to protest their 
innocence.] I have long known this; but, fearing to leave the smallest loophole for 
escape, I have tarried thus long in elucidating the circumstances. How [to the woman], 
before the corpse was removed from the well, were you so certain that it was your 
husbands body? Because you already knew he was dead. And does a trader who has 
several hundred ounces of silver about him dress as shabbily as your husband was 
dressed? And you [to the man], how did you manage to find the head so readily? 
Because you were in a hurry to marry the woman. 

The two culprits stood there as pale as death, unable to utter a word in their 
defence; and on the application of torture both confessed the crime. For this man, the 
womans paramour, had killed her husband, curiously enough, about the time of Hu 
Chngs braggart joke. He was accordingly released, but Fng suffered the penalty of a 
false accuser; he was severely bambooed, and banished for three years. The case was 
thus brought to a close without the wrongful punishment of a single person. [p. 457] 

 

1 See No. LXXIII, note 2. 

2 There is a widespread belief that human life in China is held at a cheap rate. 
This may be accounted for by the fact that death is the legal punishment for many 
crimes not considered capital in the West; and by the severe measures that are always 
taken in cases of rebellion, when the innocent and guilty are often indiscriminately 
massacred. In times of tranquillity, however, this is not the case; and the execution of 
a criminal is surrounded by a number of formalities which go far to prevent the 
shedding of innocent blood. The Hsi yan lu (see No. XIV., note 8) opens with the 
words, There is nothing more important than human life. 

3 See No. LXVII., note 1. 

CLVII. THE RUKH 

Two herons built their nest under one of the ornaments on the roof of a temple 
at Tientsin. The accumulated dust of years in the shrine below concealed a huge 
serpent, having the diameter of a washing-basin; and whenever the herons young 
were ready to fly, the reptile proceeded to the nest and swallowed every one of them, to 
the great distress of the bereaved parents. This took place three years consecutively, 
and people thought the birds would build there no more. 

However, the following year they came again; and when the time was drawing 
nigh for their young ones to take wing, away they flew, and remained absent for nearly 
three days. On their return, they went straight to the nest, and began amidst much 


noisy chattering to feed their young ones as usual. Just then the serpent crawled up 
to reach his prey; and as he was nearing the nest the parent-birds flew out and 
screamed loudly in mid-air. Immediately, there was heard a mighty flapping of wings, 
and darkness came over the face of the earth, which the astonished spectators now 
perceived to be caused by a huge bird obscuring the light of the sun. Down it swooped 
with the speed of wind or falling rain, and, striking the serpent with its talons, tore its 
head off at a blow, bringing down at the same time several feet of the masonry of the 
temple. 

Then it flew away, the herons accompanying it as though escorting a guest. The 
nest too had come down, and of the two young birds one was killed by the fall; the 
other was taken by the priests and put in the bell tower, whither the old birds 
returned to feed it until thoroughly fledged, when it spread its wings and was gone.1 [p. 
458] 

 

1 This story is inserted chiefly in illustration of the fact that all countries have a 
record of some enormous bird such as the rukh of The Arabian Nights. 

CLVIII. THE FAITHFUL GANDER[1] 

A SPORTSMAN of Tientsin, having snared a wild goose, was followed to his 
home by the gander, which flew round and round him in great distress, and only went 
away at nightfall. Next day, when the sportsman went out, there was the bird again; 
and at length it alighted quite close to his feet. He was on the point of seizing it when 
suddenly it stretched out its neck and disgorged a piece of pure gold; whereupon, the 
sportsman, understanding what the bird meant, cried out, I see! this is to ransom 
your mate, eh? Accordingly, he at once released the goose, and the two birds flew 
away with many expressions of their mutual joy, leaving to the sportsman nearly three 
ounces of pure gold. 

Can, then, mere birds have such feelings as these? Of all sorrows there is no 
sorrow like separation from those we love; and it seems that the same holds good even 
of dumb animals. 

 

1 See No. XXXV., note 3. 

CLIX. THE ELEPHANTS AND THE LION 

A HUNTSMAN of Kuang-si, who was out on the hills with his bow and arrows, 
lay down to rest awhile, and unwittingly fell fast asleep. As he was slumbering, an 
elephant came up, and, coiling his trunk around the man, carried him off. The latter 
gave himself up for dead; but before long the elephant had deposited him at the foot of 
a tall tree, and had summoned up a whole herd of comrades, who crowded about the 
huntsman as though asking his assistance. The elephant who had brought him went 
and lay down under the tree, and first looked up into its branches and then looked 
down at the man, apparently requesting him to get up into the tree. So the latter 
jumped on the elephants back and then clambered up to the topmost branch, not 
knowing what he was expected to do next. 

By-and-by a lion[1] arrived, and from among the frightened herd [p. 459] chose 


out a fat elephant, which he seemed as though about to devour. The others remained 
there trembling, not daring to run away, but looking wistfully up into the tree. 
Thereupon the huntsman drew an arrow from his quiver and shot the lion dead, at 
which all the elephants below made him a grateful obeisance. He then descended, 
when the elephant lay down again and invited him to mount by pulling at his clothes 
with its trunk. This he did, and was carried to a place where the animal scratched the 
ground with its foot, and revealed to him a vast number of old tusks. He jumped down 
and collected them in a bundle, after which the elephant conveyed him to a spot 
whence he easily found his way home.2 

 

1 The term here used refers to a creature which partakes rather of the fabulous 
than of the real. The Kuang yn says it is a kind of lion; but other authorities 
describe it as a horse. Its favourite food is tiger-flesh. Incense-burners are often made 
after the lion pattern and called by this name, the smoke of the incense issuing from 
the mouth of the animal, like our own gargoyles. 

2 Compare the elephant story in the seventh voyage of Es-Sindibd of the Sea 
(Lanes Arabian Nights, vol. iii., p. 77). 

CLX. THE HIDDEN TREASURE 

LI YEH-SHNG was a second son of a rich old man who used to bury his 
money, and who was known to his fellow-townsmen as Old Crocks. One day the 
father fell sick, and summoned his sons to divide the property between them.1 He 
gave four-fifths to the elder and only one-fifth to the younger, saying to the latter, It is 
not that I love your brother more than I love you: I have other money stored away, and 
when you are alone I will hand that over to you. 

A few days afterwards the old man grew worse, and Yeh-shng, afraid that his 
father might die at any moment, seized an opportunity of seeing him alone to ask 
about the money that he himself was to receive. All, replied the dying man, the sum 
of our joys and of our sorrows is determined by fate. You are now happy in the 
possession of a virtuous wife, and have no right to an increase of wealth. For, as a 
matter of fact, this second son was married to a lady from the Ch family whose virtue 
equalled that of any of the heroines of history: hence his fathers remark. Yeh-shng, 
however, was not satisfied, and implored to be [p. 460] allowed to have the money; and 
at length the old man got angry and said, You are only just turned twenty; you have 
known none of the trials of life, and were I to give a thousand ounces of gold, it would 
soon be all spent. Go! and, until you have drunk the cup of bitterness to its dregs, 
expect no money from me. Now Yeh-shng was a filial son, and when his father 
spoke thus he did not venture to say any more, and hoped for his speedy recovery, 
that he might have a chance of coaxing him to comply with his request. 

But the old man got worse and worse, and at length died; whereupon the elder 
brother took no trouble about the funeral ceremonies, leaving it all to the younger, 
who, being an open-handed fellow, made no difficulties about the expense. The latter 
was also fond of seeing a great deal of company at his house, and his wife often had to 
get three or four meals a day ready for guests; and, as her husband did very little 
towards looking after his affairs, and was further sponged upon by all the needy ones 
of the neighbourhood, they were soon reduced to a state of poverty. The elder brother 
helped them to keep body and soul together, but he died shortly afterwards, and this 


resource was cut off from them. 

Then, by dint of borrowing in the spring and repaying in the autumn,2 they still 
managed to exist, until at last it came to parting with their land, and they were left 
actually destitute. At that juncture their eldest son died, followed soon after by his 
mother; and Yeh-shng was left almost by himself in the world. 

He now married the widow of a sheep-dealer, who had a little capital; and she 
was very strict with him, and wouldnt let him waste time and money with his friends. 
One night his father appeared to him and said, My son, you have drained your cup of 
bitterness to the dregs, You shall now have the money. I will bring it to you. When 
Yeh-shng woke up, he thought it was merely a poor mans dream; but the next day, 
while laying the foundations of a wall, he did come upon a quantity of gold. And then 
he knew what his father had meant by when you are alone; for of those about him at 
that time, more than half were gone. 

 

1 All sons, whether by wife or concubine, share equally, and in preference to 
daughters, even though there should be a written will in favour of the latter, the power 
of bequeathing by will, except as regards trifling matters of detail, being practically 
non-existent. 

2 This has reference to the seed-time and harvest. [p. 461] 

CLXI. THE BOATMEN OF LAO-LUNG 

WHEN His Excellency Chu was Viceroy of Kuang-tong, there were constant 
complaints from the traders of mysterious disappearances; sometimes as many as 
three or four of them disappearing at once and never being seen or heard of again. At 
length the number of such cases, filed of course against some person or persons 
unknown, multiplied to such an extent that they were simply put on record, and but 
little notice was further taken of them by the local officials. Thus, when His Excellency 
entered upon his duties, he found more than a hundred plaints of the kind, besides 
innumerable cases in which the missing mans relatives lived at a distance and had 
not instituted proceedings. 

The mystery so preyed upon the new Viceroys mind that he lost all appetite for 
food; and when, finally, all the inquiries he had set on foot resulted in no clue to an 
elucidation of these strange disappearances, then His Excellency proceeded to wash 
and purify himself, and, having notified the Municipal God,1 he took to fasting and 
sleeping in his study alone. While he was in ecstasy, lo! an official entered, holding a 
tablet in his hand, and said that he had come from the Municipal temple with the 
following instructions to the Viceroy: 

Snow on the whiskers descending: 

Live clouds falling from heaven: 

Wood in water buoyed up: 

In the wall an opening effected. 

 

The official then retired, and the Viceroy waked up; but it was only after a night 
of tossing and turning that he hit upon what seemed to him the solution of the enigma. 
The first line, argued he, must signify old [lao in Chinese]; the second refers to the 


dragon[2] [lung in Chinese]; the third is clearly a boat; and the fourth a door [here 
taken in its secondary senseman]. 

Now, to the east of the province, not far from the pass by which traders from 
the north connect their line of trade with the southern [p. 462] seas, there was 
actually a ferry known as the Old Dragon (Lao-lung); and thither the Viceroy 
immediately despatched a force to arrest those employed in carrying people backwards 
and forwards. More than fifty men were caught, and they all confessed at once without 
the application of torture. In fact, they were bandits under the guise of boatmen;3 and 
after beguiling passengers on board, they would either drug them or burn stupefying 
incense until they were senseless, finally cutting them open and putting a large stone 
inside to make the body sink. 

Such was the horrible story, the discovery of which brought throngs to the 
Viceroys door to serenade him in terms of gratitude and praise.4 

 

1 See No. I., note 1. 

2 Clouds being naturally connected in every Chinamans mind with these 
fabulous creatures, the origin of which has been traced by some to waterspouts. See 
No. LXXXI., note 2. 

3 Boat-men is the solution of the last two lines of the enigma. 

4 The author actually supplies a list of the persons who signed a congratulatory 
petition to the Viceroy on the arrest and punishment of the criminals. 

CLXII. THE PIOUS SURGEON 

A CERTAIN veterinary surgeon, named Hou, was carrying food to his field 
labourers, when suddenly a whirlwind arose in his path. Hou seized a spoon and 
poured out a libation of gruel, whereupon the wind immediately dropped. On another 
occasion, he was wandering about the municipal temple when he noticed an image of 
Liu Chan presenting the melon,1 in whose eye was a great splotch of dirt. Dear me, 
Sir Liu! cried Hou, who has been ill-using you like this? He then scraped away the 
dirt with his finger-nail, and passed on. 

Some years afterwards, as he was lying down very ill, two lictors walked in and 
carried him off to a yamn, where they insisted on his bribing them heavily. Hou was 
at his wits end what to do; but just [p. 463] at that moment a personage dressed in 
green robes came forth, who was greatly astonished at seeing him there, and asked 
what it all meant. Our hero at once explained; whereupon the man in green turned 
upon the lictors and abused them for not showing proper respect to Mr. Hou. 

Meanwhile a drum sounded like the roll of thunder, and the man in green told 
Hou that it was for the morning session, and that he would have to attend. Leading 
Hou within, he put him in his proper place, and, promising to inquire into the charge 
against him, went forward and whispered a few words to one of the clerks. Oh, said 
the latter, advancing and making a bow to the veterinary surgeon, yours is a trifling 
matter. We shall merely have to confront you with a horse, and then you can go home 
again. 

Shortly afterwards, Hous case was called; upon which he went forward and 


knelt down, as did also a horse which was prosecuting him. The judge now informed 
Hou that he was accused by the horse of having caused its death by medicines, and 
asked him if he pleaded guilty or not guilty. My lord, replied Hou, the prosecutor 
was attacked by the cattle-plague, for which I treated him accordingly; and he actually 
recovered from the disease, though he died on the following day. Am I to be held 
responsible for that ? The horse now proceeded to tell his story; and after the usual 
cross-examination and cries for justice, the judge gave orders to look up the horses 
term of life in the Book of Fate. Therein it appeared that the animals destiny had 
doomed it to death on the very day on which it had died; whereupon the judge cried 
out, Your term of years had already expired; why bring this false charge? Away with 
you! and turning to Hou, the judge added, You are a worthy man, and may be 
permitted to live. 

The lictors were accordingly instructed to escort him back, and with them went 
out both the clerk and the man in green clothes, who bade the lictors take every 
possible care of Hou by the way. You gentlemen are very kind, said Hou, but I 
havent the honour of your acquaintance, .and should be glad to know to whom I am 
so much indebted. Three years ago, replied the man in green, I was travelling in 
your neighbourhood, and was suffering very much from thirst, which you relieved for 
me by a few spoonfuls of gruel. I have not forgotten [p. 464] that act. And my name, 
observed the other, is Liu Chan. You once took a splotch of dirt out of my eye that 
was troubling me very much. I am only sorry that the wine and food we have down 
here is unsuitable to offer you. Farewell. Hou now understood all that had happened, 
and went off home with the two lictors, where he would have regaled them with some 
refreshment, but they refused to take even a cup of tea. He then waked up and found 
that he had been dead for two days. 

From this time forth he led a more virtuous life than ever, always pouring out 
libations to Liu Chan at all the festivals of the year. Thus he reached the age of 
eighty, a hale and hearty man, still able to sit in the saddle; until one day he met Liu 
Chan riding on horseback, as if about to make a long journey. After a little friendly 
conversation, the latter said to him, Your time is up, and the warrant for your arrest 
is already issued; but I have ordered the constables to delay awhile, and you can now 
spend three days in preparing for death, at the expiration of which I will come and 
fetch you. I have purchased a small appointment for you in the realms below,2 by 
which you will be more comfortable. So Hou went home and told his wife and children; 
and after collecting his friends and relatives, and making all necessary preparations, 
on the evening of the fourth day he cried out, Liu Chan has come! and, getting into 
his coffin,3 lay down and died. 

 

1 When the soul of the Emperor Tai Tsung of the Tang dynasty was in the 
infernal regions, it promised to send Yen-lo (the Chinese Yama or Pluto) a melon; and 
when His Majesty recovered from the trance into which he had been plunged, he gave 
orders that his promise was to be fulfilled. Just then a man, named Liu Chan, 
observed a priest with a hairpin belonging to his wife, and misconstruing the manner 
in which possession of it had been obtained, abused his wife so severely that she 
committed suicide. Liu Chan himself then determined to follow her example, and 
convey the melon to Yen-lo; for which act he was subsequently deified. See the Hsi yu 
chi, Section XI. 


2 As the Chinese believe that their disembodied spirits proceed to a world 
organised on much the same model as the one they know, so do they think that there 
will be social distinctions of rank and emolument proportioned to the merits of each. 

3 A dying man is almost always moved into his coffin to die; and aged persons 
frequently take to sleeping regularly in the coffins provided against the inevitable hour 
by the pious thoughtfulness of a loving son. Even in middle life Chinese like to see 
their coffins ready for them, and store them sometimes on their own premises, 
sometimes in the outhouses of a neighbouring temple. 

CLXIII. ANOTHER SOLOMON 

AT Tai-yan there lived a middle-aged woman with her widowed daughter-in-
law. The former was on terms of too great intimacy with a notably bad character of the 
[p. 465] neighbourhood; and the latter, who objected very strongly to this, did her best 
to keep the man from the house. The elder woman accordingly tried to send the other 
back to her family, but she would not go; and at length things came to such a pass 
that the mother-in-law actually went to the mandarin of the place and charged her 
daughter-in-law with the offence she herself was committing. When the mandarin 
inquired the name of the man concerned, she said she had only seen him in the dark 
and didnt know who he was, referring him for information to the accused. The latter, 
on being summoned, gave the mans name, but retorted the charge on her mother-in-
law; and when the man was confronted with them, he promptly declared both their 
stories to be false. The mandarin, however, said there was a prima facie case against 
him, and ordered him to be severely beaten, whereupon he confessed that it was the 
daughter-in-law whom he went to visit. This the woman herself flatly denied, even 
under torture; and on being released, appealed to a higher court, with a very similar 
result. 

Thus the case dragged on, until a Mr. Sun, who was well known for his judicial 
acumen, was appointed district magistrate at that place. Calling the parties before him, 
he bade his lictors prepare stones and knives, at which they were much exercised in 
their minds, the severest tortures allowed by law being merely gyves and fetters.1 
However, everything was got ready, and the next day Mr. Sun proceeded with his 
investigation. After hearing all that each one of the three had to say, he delivered the 
following judgment:The case is a simple one; for although I cannot say which of you 
two women is the guilty one, there is no doubt about the man, who has evidently been 
the means of bringing discredit on a virtuous family. Take those stones and knives 
there and put him to death. I will be responsible. Thereupon the two women began to 
stone the man, especially the younger one, who seized the biggest stones she could see 
and threw them at him with all the might of her pent-up anger; while the mother-in-
law chose small stones and struck him on non-vital parts.2 So with the knives: the [p. 
466] daughter-in-law would have killed him at the first blow, had not the mandarin 
stopped her, and said, Hold! I now know who is the guilty woman. The mother-in-law 
was then tortured until she confessed, and the case was thus terminated. 

 

1 See No. LXXIII., note 2. 

2 The Chinese distinguish sixteen vital spots on the front of the body and six on 
the back, with thirty-six and twenty non-vital spots in similar positions, respectively. 
They allow, however, that a severe blow on a non-vital spot might cause death, and 


vice versa. 

CLXIV. THE INCORRUPT OFFICIAL 

MR. Wu, Sub-prefect of Chi-nan, was an upright man, and would have no share 
in the bribery and corruption which was extensively carried on, and at which the 
higher authorities connived, and in the proceeds of which they actually shared. The 
Prefect tried to bully him into adopting a similar plan, and went so far as to abuse him 
in violent language, upon which Mr. Wu fired up and exclaimed, Though I am but a 
subordinate official, you should impeach me for anything you have against me in the 
regular way; you have not the right to abuse me thus. Die I may, but I will never 
consent to degrade my office and turn aside the course of justice for the sake of filthy 
lucre. At this outbreak the Prefect changed his tone, and tried to soothe him. . . . 
[How dare people accuse the age of being corrupt, when it is themselves who will not 
walk in the straight path.] 

One day after this a certain fox-medium[1] came to the Prefects yamn just as a 
feast was in full swing, and was thus addressed by a guest:You who pretend to 
know everything, say how many officials there are in this Prefecture. One, replied 
the medium; at which the company laughed heartily, until the medium continued, 
There are really seventy-two holders of office, but Mr. Sub-prefect Wu is the only one 
who can justly be called an official. 

 

1 Certain classes of soothsayers are believed by the Chinese to be possessed by 
foxes, which animals have the power of looking into the future, &c., &c. 

APPENDIX I. 

THE Y LI CHAO CHUAN 

VISITORS to Chinese temples of the Taoist persuasion usually make at once for 
what is popularly known amongst foreigners as the Chamber of Horrors. These 
belong specially to Taoism, or the ethics of Right in the abstract, as opposed to 
abstract Wrong, and are not found in temples consecrated to the religion of Buddha. 
Modern Taoism, however, once a purely metaphysical system, is now so leavened with 
the superstitions of Buddhism, and has borrowed so much material from its younger 
rival, that an ordinary Chinaman can hardly tell one from the other, and generally 
regards them as to all intents and purposes the same. These rightly-named Chambers 
of Horrorsfor Madame Tussaud has nothing more ghastly to show in the whole of 
her wonderful collectionrepresent the Ten Courts of Purgatory, through some or all 
of which erring souls must pass before they are suffered to be born again into the 
world under another form, or transferred to the eternal bliss reserved for the righteous 
alone. As a description of these Ten Courts may not be uninteresting to some of my 
readers, and as the subject has a direct bearing upon many of the stories in the 
previous collection, I hereto append my translation of a well-known Taoist work[1] 
which is circulated gratuitously all over the Chinese Empire by people who are 
anxious to lay up a store of good works against the day of reckoning to come. Those 
who are acquainted with Dantes Divine Comedy will recollect that the poets idea of a 
Christian Purgatory was a series of nine lessening circles arranged one above the other, 
so as to form a cone. The Taoist believes that his Purgatory consists of Ten Courts of 


justice situated in different positions at the bottom of a great ocean which lies down in 
the depths of the earth. These are subdivided into special wards, different forms of 
torture being inflicted in each. A perusal of this work will show what punishments the 
wicked Chinaman has to expect in the unseen world, and by what means he may hope 
to obtain a partial or complete remission of his sins. 

The Divine Panorama, published by the Mercy of Y Ti,2 
that Men and Women may repent them of their faults 
and make Atonement for their Crimes. 

On the birthday of the Saviour Pu-sa,3 as the spirits of Purgatory were 
thronging round to offer their congratulations, the ruler of the Infernal Regions spake 
as follows:My wish is to release all souls, and every moon as this day comes round I 
would wholly 

 

1 The Y Li Chao Chuan; or Divine Panorama. 

2 The Divine Ruler, immediately below God Himself. 

3 See No. XXVI. note 5. [p. 468] 

or partially remit the punishment of erring shades, and give them life once more in one 
of the Six Paths.4 But alas! the wicked are many and the virtuous few. Nevertheless, 
the punishments in the dark region are too severe, and require some modification. Any 
wicked soul that repents and induces one or two others to do likewise shall be allowed 
to set this off against the punishments which should be inflicted. 

The Judges of the Ten Courts of Purgatory then agreed that all who led virtuous 
lives from their youth upwards shall be escorted at their death to the land of the 
Immortals; that all whose balance of good and evil is exact shall escape the bitterness 
of the Three States,5 and be born again among men; that those who have repaid their 
debts of gratitude and friendship, and fulfilled their destiny, yet have a balance of evil 
against them, shall pass through the various Courts of Purgatory and then be born 
again amongst men, rich, poor, old, young, diseased or crippled, to be put a second 
time upon trial. Then, if they behave well they may enter into some happy state; but if 
badly, they will be dragged by horrid devils through all the Courts, suffering bitterly as 
they go, and will again be born, to endure in life the uttermost of poverty and 
wretchedness, in death the everlasting tortures of hell. Those who are disloyal, unfilial, 
who commit suicide, take life, or disbelieve the doctrine of Cause and Effect,6 saying 
to themselves that when a man dies there is an end of him, that when he has lost his 
skin[7] he has already suffered the worst that can befall him, that living men can be 
tortured, but no one ever saw a mans ghost in the pillory, that after death all is 
unknown, &c., &c.,truly these men do not know that the body alone perishes but 
the soul lives for ever and ever; and that whatsoever evil they do in this life, the same 
will be done unto them in the life to come. All who commit such crimes are handed 
over to the everlasting tortures of hell; for alas! in spite of the teachings of the Three 
Systems[8] some will persist in regarding these warnings as vain and empty talk. 
Lightly they speak of Divine mercy, and knowingly commit many crimes, not more 
than one in a hundred ever coming to repentance. Therefore the punishments of 
Purgatory were strictly carried out and the tortures dreadfully severe. 


But now it has been mercifully ordained that any man or woman, young, old, 
weak or strong, who may have sinned in any way, shall be permitted to obtain 
remission of the same by keeping his or her thoughts constantly fixed on Pu-sa and 
on the birthdays of the judges of the Ten Courts, by fasting and prayer, and by vows 
never to sin again. Or for every good work done in life they shall be allowed to escape 
one ward in the Courts below. From this rule to be excepted disloyal ministers, unfilial 
sons, suicides, those who plot in secret against good people, those who are struck by 
lightning (lit. thunder), those who perish by flood or fire, by wild animals or poisonous 
reptiles[9]these to pass through all the Courts and be punished according to their 
deserts. All other sinners to be allowed to claim their good works as a set-off against 

 

4 See Authors Own Record (in Introduction), note 28. 

5 The three worst of the Six Paths. 

6 That the state of one life is the result of behaviour in a previous 
existence. 

7 Lit.the skin purse (of his bones). 

8 Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism. 

9 Violent deaths are regarded with horror by the Chinese. They hold that 
a truly virtuous man always dies either of illness or old age. [p. 469] 

evil, thus partly escaping the agonies of hell and receiving some reward for their 
virtuous deeds. 

This account of mans wickedness on the earth and the punishments in store 
for him was written in language intelligible to every man and woman, and was 
submitted for the approval of Pu-sa, the intention being to wait the return[10] of some 
virtuous soul among the sons of men, and by these means publish it all over the earth. 
When Pu-sa saw what had been done, he said it was good; and on the 3rd of the 8th 
moon proceeded with the ten judges of Purgatory to lay this book before God.[11] 

Then God said, Good indeed! Good indeed! Henceforth let all spirits take note 
of any mortal who vows to lead a virtuous life and, repenting, promises to sin no more. 
Two punishments shall be remitted him. And if, in addition to this, he succeeds in 
doing five virtuous acts, then he shall escape all punishment and be born again in 
some happy stateif a woman she shall be born as a man.[A] But more than five 
virtuous acts shall enable such a soul to obtain the salvation of others, and redeem 
wife and family from the tortures of hell. Let these regulations be published in the 
Divine Panorama and circulated on earth by the spirits of the City Guardians.12 In 
fear and trembling obey this decree and carry it reverently into effect. 

THE FIRST COURT 

His Infernal Majesty Chin Kuang is specially in charge of the register of life and 
death both for old and young, and presides at the judgment-seat in the lower regions. 
His court is situated in the great Ocean, away beyond the Wu-chiao rock,13 far to the 
west near the murky road which leads to the Yellow Springs.14 Every man and woman 


dying in old age whose fate it is to be born again into the world, if their tale of good 
and evil works is equally balanced, are sent to the First Court, and thence transferred 
back to Life, male becoming female, female male, rich poor, and poor rich, according to 
their several deserts. But those whose good deeds are outnumbered by their bad are 
sent to a terrace on the right of the Court, called the Terrace of the Mirror of Sin, ten 
feet in height. The mirror is about fifty feet[15] in circumference and hangs towards 
the east. Above are seven characters written horizontally:Sin Mirror Terrace upon 
no good men. There the wicked souls are able to see the naughtiness of their own 
hearts while they were among the living, and the danger of death and hell. Then do 
they realise the proverb, 

Ten thousand taels of yellow gold cannot be brought away: 

But every crime will tell its tale upon the judgment day. 

 

When the souls have been to the Terrace and seen their wickednesses, they are 
forwarded into the Second Court, where they are tortured and dismissed to the proper 
hell. 

Should there be any one enjoying life without reflecting that Heaven and Earth 
produce mortals, that father and mother bring 

 

10 Good people go to Purgatory in the flesh, and are at once passed up to 
Heaven without suffering any torture, or are sent back to earth again. 

11 The Supreme Ruler. 

12 See No. I., note 1. 

13 Supposed to be the gate of the Infernal Regions. 

14 Hades. 

15 Literally ten armfuls. 

[A] No sexism here! Im reminded of Chinese genealogists, who say that 
they find lines of ancestors extending back into deep antiquitybut only 
the names of the men are preserved. [p. 470] 

the child to maturitytruly no easy matter; and, ignoring the four obligations,16 
before receiving the summons, lightly sever the thread of their own existence by 
cutting their throats, hanging, poisoning, or drowning themselves:then such 
suicides, if the deed was not done out of loyalty, filial piety, chastity, or friendship, for 
which they would go to Heaven, but in a trivial burst of rage, or fearing the 
consequences of a crime which would not amount to death, or in the hope of falsely 
injuring a fellow-creaturethen such suicides, when the last breath has left their 
bodies, shall be escorted to this Court by the Spirits of the Threshold and of the 
Hearth. They shall be placed in the Hunger and Thirst Section, and every day from 
seven till eleven oclock they will resume their mortal coil, and suffer again the pain 
and bitterness of death. 

After seventy days, or one or two years, as the case may be, they will be 


conducted back to the scene of their suicide, but will not be permitted to taste the 
funeral meats, or avail themselves of the usual offerings to the dead. Bitterly will they 
repent, unable as they will be to render themselves visible and frighten people,17 
vainly striving to procure a substitute.18 For when the substitute shall have been 
harmlessly entrapped, the Spirits of the Threshold and Hearth will reconduct the 
erring soul back to this Court, whence it will be sent on to the Second Court, where its 
balance of good and evil will be struck, and dreadful tortures applied, being finally 
passed on through the Various Courts to the utter misery of hell. Should any one have 
such intention of suicide and thus threaten a fellow creature, even though he does not 
commit the act but continues to live not without virtue, yet shall it not be permitted in 
any way to remit his punishment. Any soul which after suicide shall not remain 
invisible, but shall frighten people to death, will be seized by black-faced, long-tusked 
devils and tortured in the various hells, to be finally thrust into the great Gehenna, for 
ever to remain hung up in chains, and not permitted to be born again. 

Every Buddhist or Taoist priest who receives money for prayers and liturgies, 
but skips over words and misses out sentences, on arriving at this, the First Court, 
will be sent to the section for the completion of Prayer, and there in a small dark room 
he shall pick out such passages as he has omitted, and make good the deficiency as 
best he can, by the uncertain light of an infinitesimal wick burning in a gallon of oil. 
Even good and virtuous priests must also repair any omissions they may have 
(accidentally) made, and so must every man or woman who in private devotion may 
have omitted or wrongly repeated any part of the sacred writings from over-
earnestness, their attention not being properly fixed on the actual words they repeat. 
The same applies to female priests. A dispensation from Buddha to remit such 
punishment is put in force on the first day of each month when the names are entered 
in the register of the virtuous. 

 

16 To Heaven, Earth, sovereign, and relatives. 

17 Held to be a great relief to the spirits of the dead. 

18 It is commonly believed that if the spirit of a murdered man can 
secure the violent death of some other person he returns to earth again 
as if nothing had happened, the spirit of his victim passing into the world 
below and suffering all the misery of a disembodied soul in his stead. See 
No. XLV., note 8. [p. 471] 

O ye dwellers upon earth, on the 1st day of the 2nd moon, fasting turn to the north 
and make oath to abstain from evil and fix your thoughts on good, that ye may escape 
hell! The precepts of Buddha are circulated over the whole world to warn mankind to 
believe and repent, that when the last hour comes their spirits may be escorted by 
dark-robed boys to realms of bliss and happiness in the west. 

THE SECOND COURT 

His Infernal Majesty Chu Chiang reigns at the bottom of the great Ocean. Away 
to the south, below the Wu-chiao rocks, he has a vast hell, many leagues in extent, 
and subdivided into sixteen wards, as follows: 

In the first, nothing but black clouds and constant sand-storms. In the second, 


mud and filth. In the third, chevaux de frise. In the fourth, gnawing hunger. In the 
fifth, burning thirst. In the sixth, blood and pus. In the seventh, the shades are 
plunged into a brazen cauldron (of boiling water). In the eighth, the same punishment 
is repeated many times. In the ninth, they are put into iron clothes. In the tenth, they 
are stretched on a rack to regulation length. In the eleventh, they are pecked by fowls. 
In the twelfth, they have only rivers of lime to drink. In the thirteenth they are hacked 
to pieces. In the fourteenth, the leaves of the trees are as sharp as sword-points. In the 
fifteenth they are pursued by foxes and wolves. In the sixteenth, all is ice and snow. 

Those, who lead astray young boys and girls, and then escape punishment by 
cutting off their hair and entering the priesthood;19 those who filch letters, pictures, 
books, &c., entrusted to their care, and then pretend to have lost them; those who 
injure a fellow-creatures ear, eye, hand, foot, fingers, or toes; those who practise as 
doctors without any knowledge of the medical art; those who will not ransom grown-
up slave-girls;20 those who, contracting marriage for the sake of gain, falsely state 
their ages; or those who in cases of betrothal, before actual marriage, find out that one 
of the contracting parties is a bad character, and yet do not come forward to say so, 
but inflict an irreparable wrong on the innocent one;such offenders, when their 
quota of crime has been cast up, their youth or age and the consequences of their acts 
taken into consideration, will be seized by horrid red-faced devils and thrust into the 
great Hell, and thence despatched to the particular ward in which they are to be 
tormented. When their time of suffering there has expired, they will be moved into the 
Third Court, there to be tortured and passed on to Gehenna. 

O ye men and women of the world, take this book and warn all sinners, or copy 
it out and circulate it for general information! If 

 

19 A very common trick in China. The drunken bully Lu Ta in the 
celebrated novel Shui-hu saved himself by these means, and I have heard 
that the Mandarin who in the war of 1842 spent a large sum in 
constructing a paddle-wheel steamer to be worked by men, hoping 
thereby to match the wheel-ships of the Outer Barbarians, is now 
expiating his failure at a monastery in Fukien. A propos of which, it may 
not be generally known at this moment (1880) there are small paddle-
wheel boats for Chinese passengers, plying up and down the Canton 
River, the wheels of which are turned by gangs of coolies, who perform a 
movement precisely similar to that required on the treadmill. 

20 In order that their marriage destiny may not be interfered with. It is 
considered disgraceful not to accept the ransom of a slave girl of fifteen 
or sixteen years of age. See No. XXVI., note 8. [p. 472] 

you see people sick and ill, give medicine to heal them. If you see people poor and 
hungry, feed them. If you see people in difficulties, give money to save them. Repent 
your past errors, and you will be allowed to cancel that evil by future good, so that 
when the hour arrives you will pass at once into the Tenth Court, and thence return 
again to existence on earth. 

Let such as love all creatures endowed with life, and do not recklessly cut and 
slay, but teach their children not to harm small animals and insects let these, on the 
1st of the 3rd moon, register an oath not to take life, but to aid in preserving it. Thus 


they will avoid passing through Purgatory, and will also enter at once the Tenth Hall, 
to be born again in some happy state. 

THE THIRD COURT 

His Infernal Majesty Sung Ti reigns at the bottom of the great Ocean, away to 
the south-east, below the Wu-chiao rock, in the Gehenna of Black Ropes. This Hall is 
many leagues wide, and is subdivided into sixteen wards, as follows: 

In the first everything is Salt; above, below, and all round, the eye rests upon 
Salt alone. The shades feed upon it, and suffer horrid torments in consequence. When 
the fit has passed away they return to it once again, and suffer agonies more 
unutterable than before. In the second, the erring shades are bound with cords and 
carry heavily-weighted cangues. In the third, they are perpetually pierced through the 
ribs. In the fourth, their faces are scraped with iron and copper knives. In the fifth, 
their fat is scraped away from their bodies. In the sixth, their hearts and livers are 
squeezed with pincers. In the seventh, their eyes are gouged. In the eighth, they are 
flayed. In the ninth, their feet are cut off. In the tenth, their finger-nails and toe-nails 
are pulled out. In the eleventh, their blood is sucked. In the twelfth, they are hung up 
head downwards. In the thirteenth, their shoulder-bones are split. In the fourteenth, 
they are tormented by insects and reptiles. In the fifteenth, they are beaten on the 
thighs. In the sixteenth, their hearts are scratched. 

Those who enjoy the light of day without reflecting on the Imperial bounty;21 
officers of State who revel in large emoluments without reciprocating their sovereigns 
goodness; private individuals who do not repay the debt of water and earth;22 wives 
and concubines who slight their marital lords; those who fail in their duties as acting 
sons,23 or such as reap what advantages there are and then go off to their own homes; 
slaves who disregard their masters; official underlings who are ungrateful to their 
superiors; working partners who behave badly to the moneyed partner; culprits who 
escape from prison or abscond from their place of banishment; those who break their 
bail and get others into trouble; 

 

21 The soil of China belongs, every inch of it, to the Emperor. 
Consequently, the people owe him a debt of gratitude for permitting them 
to live upon it. 

22 Do their duty as men and women. 

23 A Chinaman may have three kinds of fathers: (1) his real father, (2) an 
adopted father, such as an uncle without children to whom he has been 
given as heir, and (3) the man his widowed mother may marry. The first 
two are to all intents and purposes equal; the third is entitled only to one 
years mourning instead of the usual three. [p. 473] 

and those infatuated ones who have long omitted to pray and repentall these, even 
though they have a set-off of good deeds, must pass through the misery of every ward. 
Those who interfere with another mans Fng-Shui; those who obstruct funeral 
obsequies or the completion of graves; those who in digging come on a coffin and do 
not immediately cover it up, but injure the bones; those who steal or avoid paying up 
their quota of grain;24 those who lose all record of the site of their family burying-


place; those who incite others to commit crimes; those who promote litigation; those 
who write anonymous placards; those who repudiate a betrothal; those who forge 
deeds and other documents; those who receive payment of a debt without signing a 
receipt or giving up the IOU; those who counterfeit signatures and seals; those who 
alter bills; those who injure posterity in any wayall these, and similar offenders, 
shall be punished according to the gravity of each offence. Devils with big knives will 
seize the erring ones and thrust them into the great Gehenna; besides which they 
shall expiate their sins in the proper number of wards, and shall then he forwarded to 
the Fourth Court, where they shall be tortured and dismissed to the general Gehenna. 

O ye sons of men, on the 8th day of the 2nd moon, register an oath that ye will 
do no evil. Thus you may escape the bitterness of these hells. 

THE FOURTH COURT 

The Lord of the Five Senses reigns at the bottom of the great Ocean, away to the 
east below the Wu-chiao rock. His Court is many leagues wide, and is subdivided into 
sixteen wards, as follows: 

In the first, the wicked shades are hung up and water is continually poured 
over them. In the second, they are made to kneel on chains and pieces of split bamboo. 
In the third, their hands are scalded with boiling water. In the fourth, their hands 
swell and stream with perspiration. In the fifth, their muscles are cut and their bones 
pulled out. In the sixth their shoulders are pricked with a trident and the skin rubbed 
with a hard brush. In the seventh, holes are bored into their flesh. In the eighth, they 
are made to sit on spikes. In the ninth, they wear iron clothes. In the tenth they are 
placed under heavy pieces of wood, stone, earth, or tiles. In the eleventh, their eyes are 
put out. In the twelfth, their mouths are choked with dust. In the thirteenth, they are 
perpetually dosed with nasty medicines. In the fourteenth, it is so slippery, they are 
always falling down. In the fifteenth, their mouths are painfully pricked. In the 
sixteenth, their bodies are buried under broken stones, &e., the head alone being left 
out. 

Those who cheat the customs and evade taxes; those who repudiate their rent, 
use weighted scales, sell sham medicines, water their rice,25 utter base coin, get 
deeply in debt, sell doctored[26] silks and satins, scrape[27] or add size to linen cloth; 
those who do not 

 

24 As taxes. 

25 Visitors to Peking may often see the junkmen at Tung-chou pouring 
water by the bucketful on to newly arrived cargoes of Imperial rice in 
order to make up the right weight and conceal the amount they have 
filched on the way. 

26 That is, with a false gloss on them. 

27 In order to raise the nap and give an appearance of strength and 
goodness. [p. 474] 

make way for the cripples, old and young; those who encroach upon petty trade 
rights[28] of old or young; those who delay in delivering letters entrusted to them; steal 


bricks from walls as they pass by, or oil and candles from lamps;29 poor people who 
do not behave properly and rich people who are not compassionate to the poor; those 
who promise a loan and go back on their word; those who see people suffering from 
illness yet cannot bring themselves to part with certain useful drugs they may have in 
their possession; those who know good prescriptions but keep them secret; those who 
throw vessels which have contained medicine or broken cups and bottles into the 
street; those who allow their mules and ponies to be a nuisance to other people; those 
who destroy their neighbours crops or his walls and fences; those who try to bewitch 
their enemies,30 and those who try to frighten people in any way,all these shall be 
punished according to the gravity of their offences, and shall be thrust by the devils 
into the great Gehenna until their time arrives for passing into the Fifth Court. 

O ye children of this world, if on the 18th day of the 2nd moon you register an 
oath to sin no more, then you may escape the various wards of this Hall and if to this 
book you add examples of rewards and punishments following upon virtues and 
crimes, and hand them down to posterity for the good of the human race, so that all 
who read may repent them of their wickednessthen they will be without sin, and you 
not without merit! 

THE FIFTH COURT 

His Infernal Majesty Yen Lo[31] said,Our proper place is in the First Court; 
but, pitying those who die by foul means, and should be sent back to earth to have 
their wrongs redressed, we have moved our judgment-seat to the great hell at the 
bottom of the Ocean, away to the north-east below the Wu-chiao rock, and have 
subdivided this hell into sixteen wards for the torment of souls. All those shades who 
come before us have already suffered long tortures in the previous four Courts, 
whence, if they are hardened sinners, they are passed on after seven days to this 
Court, where, if again found to be utterly hardened, corruption will overtake them by 
the fifth or seventh day. All shades cry out either that they have left some vow 
unfulfilled, or that they wish to build a temple or a bridge, make a road, clean out a 
river or well, publish some book teaching people to be virtuous, that they have not 
released their due number of lives, that they have filial duties or funeral obsequies to 
perform, some act of kindness to repay, &c., 

 

28 Costermongers and others acquire certain rights to doorsteps or snug 
corners in Chinese cities which are not usually infringed by competitors 
in the same line of business. Chair-coolies, carrying-coolies, ferrymen, 
&c., also claim whole districts as their particular field of operations, and 
are very jealous of any interference. I know of a case in which the right of 
scavengering a town had been in the same family for generations, and 
no one dreamt of trying to take it out of their hands. 

29 Chiefly alluding to small temples where some pious spirit may have 
lighted a lamp or candle to the glory of his favourite Pu-sa. 

30 This is done either by making a figure of the person to be injured and 
burning it in a slow fire, like the old practice of the wax figure in English 
history; or by obtaining his nativity characters, writing them out on a 
piece of paper and burning them in a candle, muttering all the time 
whatsoever mischief it is hoped will befall him. 


31 Popularly known as the Chinese Pluto. The Indian Yama. [p. 475] 

&c. For these reasons they pray to be allowed to return once more to the light of day, 
and are always ready to make oath that henceforth they will lead most exemplary lives. 
We, hearing this, reply,In days gone by ye openly worked evil, but now that your 
boat has reached the midstream, ye bethink yourselves, of caulking the leak. For 
although Pu-sa in his great mercy decreed that there should be a modification of 
torture, and that good works might be set off against evil, the same being submitted to 
God and ratified by Divine Decree, to be further published in the realms below and in 
the Infernal Cityyet we judges of the Ten Courts have not yet received one single 
virtuous man amongst us, who, coming in the flesh, might carry this Divine Panorama 
back with him to the light of day. Truly those who suffer in hell and on earth cannot 
complain, and virtuous men are rare! But now ye have come to my Court, having 
beheld your own wickedness in the mirror of sin. No morebull-headed, horse-faced 
devils, away with them to the Terrace as that they may once more gaze upon their lost 
homes! 

This Terrace is curved in front like a bow; it looks east, west, and south. It is 
eighty-one li from one extreme to the other. The back part is like the string of the bow; 
it is enclosed by a wall of sharp swords. It is 490 feet high; its sides are knife-blades; 
and the whole is in sixty-three storeys. No good shade comes to this Terrace; neither 
do those whose balance of good and evil is exact. Wicked souls alone behold their 
homes close by and can see and hear what is going on. They hear old and young 
talking together; they see their last wishes disregarded and their instructions 
disobeyed. Everything seems to have undergone a change. The property they scraped 
together with so much trouble is dissipated and gone. The husband thinks of taking 
another wife; the widow meditates second nuptials.33 Strangers are in possession of 
the old estate; there is nothing to divide amongst the children. Debts long since paid 
are brought again for settlement, and the survivors are called upon to acknowledge 
claims upon the departed. Debts owed are lost for want of evidence, with endless 
recriminations, abuse, and general confusion, all of which falls upon the three 
families[34] of the deceased. They in their anger speak ill of him that is gone. He sees 
his children become corrupt, and his friends fall away. Some, perhaps, for the sake of 
bygone times, may stroke the coffin and let fall a tear, departing quickly with a cold 
smile. Worse than that, the wife sees her husband tortured in the yamn; the husband 
sees his wife victim to some horrible disease, lands gone, houses destroyed by flood or 
fire, and everything in an unutterable confusionthe reward of former sins.35 All 
souls, after the misery of the Terrace, will be thrust into the great Gehenna, and, when 
the amount of wickedness of each has been ascertained, they will be passed through 
the sixteen wards for the punishment of evil 

 

32 The celebrated See-ones-home Terrace. 

33 Regarded by the Chinese with intense disgust. 

34 Fathers, mothers, and wifes families. 

35 I know of few more pathetic passages throughout all the exquisite 
imagery of the Divine Comedy than this in which the guilty soul is 
supposed to look back to the home he has but lately left and gaze in 


bitter anguish on his desolate hearth and broken household gods. For 
once the gross tortures of Chinese Purgatory give place to as refined and 
as dreadful a punishment as human ingenuity could well devise. [p. 476] 

hearts. In the Gehenna they will be buried under wooden pillars, bound with copper 
snakes, crushed by iron dogs, tied tightly hand and foot, be ripped open and have 
their hearts torn out, minced up and given to snakes, their entrails being thrown to 
dogs. Then, when their time is up, the pain will cease and their bodies become whole 
once more, preparatory to being passed through the sixteen wards. 

In the first are non-worshippers and sceptics. In the second, those who have 
destroyed or hurt living creatures. In the third, those who do not fulfil their vows. In 
the fourth, believers in false doctrines, magicians, and sorcerers. In the fifth, those 
who tyrannise over the weak but cringe to the strong; also those who openly wish for 
anothers death. In the sixth, those who try to put their misfortunes on to other 
peoples shoulders. In the seventh, those who lead immoral lives. In the eighth, those 
who injure others to benefit themselves. In the ninth, those who are parsimonious and 
will not help people in trouble. In the tenth, those who steal and involve the innocent. 
In the eleventh, those who forget kindness or seek revenge. In the twelfth, those who 
by pernicious drugs stir up others to quarrel, keeping themselves out of harms way. 
In the thirteenth, those who deceive or spread false reports. In the fourteenth, those 
who love brawling and implicate others. In the fifteenth, those who envy the virtuous 
and wise. In the sixteenth, those who are lost in vice, evil speakers, slanderers, and 
suchlike. 

All who disbelieve the doctrine of Cause and Effect, who obstruct good works, 
make a pretence of piety, talk of other peoples sins, burn or injure religious books, 
omit to fast when praying for the sick, interfere with the adoration of Buddha, slander 
the priesthood, or, if scholars, abstain from instructing women and children; those 
who dig up graves and obliterate all traces thereof, set light to woods and forests, allow 
their servants to be careless in handling fire and thus endanger their neighbours 
property; those who wantonly discharge arrows and bolts, who try their strength 
against the sick or weak, throw potsherds over a wall, poison fish, let off guns, catch 
birds either with net, sticky pole,36 or trap; those who throw down salt to kill plants, 
who do not bury dead cats and venomous snakes deep in the ground, who dig out 
corpses, who break the soil or alter their walls and stoves at wrong seasons,37 who 
encroach on the public road or take possession of other peoples land, who fill up wells 
and drains &c., &c.,all these, when they return from the Terrace, shall first be 
tortured in the great Gehenna, and then such as are to have their hearts minced shall 
be passed into the sixteen wards, thence to be sent on to the Sixth Court for the 
punishment of other crimes. Those who in life have not been guilty of the above sins, 
or, having sinned, did on the 8th day of the 1st moon, fasting, register a vow to sin no 
more, shall not only escape the punishments of this Court, but shall also gain some 
further remission of torture in the Sixth Court. Those, however, who are guilty of 
taking life, of gross immorality, of stealing and implicating 

 

36 A long pole tipped with a kind of birdlime is cautiously inserted 
between the branches of a tree, and then suddenly dabbed on to some 
unsuspecting sparrow. 


37 If this is done in winter or spring the Spirits of the Hearth and 
Threshold are liable to catch cold. [p. 477] 

the innocent, of ingratitude and revenge, of infatuated vice which no warnings can 
turn from its course,these shall not escape one jot of their punishments. 

THE SIXTH COURT 

This Court is situated at the bottom of the great Ocean, due north of the Wu-
chiao rock. It is a vast, noisy Gehenna, many leagues in extent, and around it are 
sixteen wards. 

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

Those discontented ones who rail against Heaven and revile Earth, who are 
always finding fault either with the wind, thunder, heat, cold, fine weather or rain; 
those who let their tears fall towards the north,38 who steal the gold from the 
inside[39] or scrape the gilding from the outside of images; those who take holy names 
in vain, who show no respect for written paper, who throw down dirt and rubbish near 
pagodas or temples, who use dirty cookhouses and stoves for preparing the sacrificial 
meats, who do not abstain from eating beef and dog flesh;40 those who have in their 
possession blasphemous or obscene books and do not destroy them, who obliterate or 
tear books which teach man to be good, who carve on common articles of household 
use the symbol of the origin of a things,41 the Sun and Moon and Seven Stars, the 
Royal Mother and the God of Longevity on the same article,42 or representations of 
any of the Immortals; those who embroider the Svastika[43] on fancy work, or mark 
characters on silk, satin, or cloth, on banners, beds, chairs, tables, or any kind of 
utensil; those who secretly wear clothes adorned with the dragon and the phoenix[44] 
only to be trampled under foot, who buy up grain and hold until the price is 
exorbitantly highall these shall be thrust into the great and noisy 

 

38 I presume because God sits with his face to the south. 

39 Pious and wealthy people often give orders for an image of a certain 
Pu-sa to be made with an ounce or so of gold inside. 

40 Primarily, because no living thing should be killed for food. The ox 
and the dog are specified because of their kindly services to man in tilling 
the earth and guarding his home. 

41 The symbol of the Yin and the Yang. 


42 One being male and the other female. This calls to mind the extreme 
modesty of a celebrated French Lady, who would not put books by male 
and female authors on the same shelf. 

43 The symbol on Buddhas heart; more commonly known to the 
Western world as Thors Hammer. 

44 Emblems of imperial dignity. [p. 478] 

Gehenna, there to be examined as to their misdeeds and passed accordingly into one 
of the sixteen wards, whence, at the expiration of their time, they will be sent for 
further questioning on to the Seventh Court. 

All dwellers upon earth who on the 8th day of the 3rd moon, fasting, register a 
vow from that date to sin no more, and, on the 14th and 15th of the 5th moon, the 3rd 
of the 8th moon, and the l0th of the 10th moon, to practise abstinence, vowing, 
moreover, to exert themselves to convert others,these shall escape the bitterness of 
all the above-mentioned wards. 

THE SEVENTH COURT 

His Infernal Majesty Tai Shan reigns at the bottom of the great Ocean, away to 
the north-west, below the Wu-chiao rock. His is a vast, noisy Court, measuring many 
leagues in circumference and subdivided into sixteen wards, as follows: 

In the first, the wicked souls are made to swallow their own blood. In the 
second, their legs are pierced and thrust into a fiery pit. In the third, their chests are 
cut open. In the fourth, their hair is torn out with iron combs. In the fifth, they are 
gnawed by dogs. In the sixth, great stones are placed on their heads. In the seventh, 
their skulls are pierced. In the eighth, they wear fiery clothes. In the ninth, their skin 
is torn and pulled by pigs. In the tenth, they are pecked by huge birds. In the eleventh, 
they are hung up and beaten on the feet. In the twelfth, their tongues are pulled out 
and their jaws bored. In the thirteenth, they are disembowelled. In the fourteenth, they 
are trampled on by mules and bitten by badgers. In the fifteenth, their fingers are 
ironed with hot irons. In the sixteenth, they are boiled in oil. 

All mortals who practise eating red lead[45] and certain other nauseous 
articles,[46] who spend more than they should upon wine, who kidnap human beings 
for sale, who steal clothes and ornaments from coffins, who break up dead mens 
bones for medicine, who separate people from their relatives, who sell the girl brought 
up in the house to be their sons wife, who allow their wives[47] to drown female 
children, who stifle their illegitimate offspring, who unite to cheat another in gambling, 
who act as tutors without being properly strict, and thus wrong their pupils, who beat 
and injure their slaves without estimating the punishment by the fault, who regard 
districts entrusted to their charge in the light of so much spoil, who disobey their 
elders, who talk at random and go back on their word, who stir up others to quarrel 
and fightall these shall, upon verification of their sins, be taken from the great 
Gehenna and passed through the proper wards, to be forwarded when their time has 
expired to the Eighth Court, again to be tortured according to their deserts. 

All things may not be used as drugs. It is bad enough to slay birds, beasts, 
reptiles, and fishes, in order to prepare medicine for the sick; but to use red lead and 
many of the filthy messes in vogue is beyond all bounds of decency, and those who 


foul their mouths 

 

45 Supposed to confer immortality. 

46 Unfit for translation. 

47 This is ingeniously expressed, as if mothers were the prime movers in 
such unnatural arts. [p. 479] 

with these nasty mixtures, no matter how virtuous they may otherwise be, will not 
only derive no benefit from saying their prayers, but will be punished for so doing 
without mercy. 

Ye who hear these words, make haste to repent! From today forbear to take life, 
buy many birds and animals in order to set them free,48 and every morning when you 
wash your teeth mutter a prayer to Buddha. Thus, when your last hour comes, a good 
angel will stand by your side and purify you of your former sins. 

Some steal the bones of people who have been burnt to death or the bodies of 
illegitimate children, for the purpose of compounding medicines; others steal skulls 
and bones (from graves) with the same object. Worst of all are those who carry off 
bones by the basketful, using the hard ones for making various articles and grinding 
down the soft ones for the manufacture of pottery.[49] These, no matter what may 
have been their good works on earth, will not obtain thereby any remission of 
punishment; but when they are brought down below, the Ruler of the Infernal Regions 
will first pass them from the great Gehenna into the proper wards, and will send 
instructions to the Tenth Court that when they are born again on earth it shall be 
either without ears, or eyes, hand, foot, mouth, lips, or nose, or maimed in some way 
or other.[A] Yet such as have thus sinned may still avoid this punishment, if only they 
are willing to pray and repent, vowing never to sin again. Or if they buy coffins for the 
poor and persuade others to do likewise, by these means giving a decent burial to 
many corpsesthen, when the death-summons comes, the Spirits of the Home and 
Hearth will make a black mark upon the warrant, and punishment will be remitted. 

Sometimes, when there is a famine, people have nothing to eat and die of 
hunger, and wicked men, almost before the breath is out of their bodies, cut them up 
and sell their flesh to others for fooda horrid crime indeed. Those who are guilty of 
such practices will, on arrival in the lower regions, be tortured in the various Courts 
for the space of forty-nine[50] days, and then the judge of the Tenth Court will be 
instructed to notify the judge of the First Court to put them down in his register for a 
new birth,if among men, as hungry, famished outcasts, and if among animals as 
loathing the food that falls to their lot, and by-and-by perishing of hunger. Such is 
their reward. Besides the above, those who have eaten what is unfit for food and 
willingly continue to do so, will be punished either among men or animals according to 
their deserts. Their throats will swell, and though devoured by hunger they will be 
unable to swallow, and thus die. Those who do not err a second time may be forgiven 
as they deserve; but those who in times of distress subscribe money for the sufferers, 
prepare gruel, give away rice to the needy, or distribute ginger tea[51] and soup in the 
open street, and thus sustain life a little longer and do real good to their 

 


48 On fte days at temples it is not uncommon to see cages full of birds 
hawked about among the holiday-makers, that those who feel twinges of 
conscience may purchase a sparrow or two and relieve themselves from 
anxiety by the simple means of setting them at liberty. 

49 Bones are used in glazing porcelain, to give a higher finish. 

50 The seven periods of seven days each which occur immediately after a 
death and at which the departed shade is appeased with food and 
offerings of various kinds. 

51 To warm them. 

[A] Not a particularly kind view of the disabled. [p. 480] 

fellow creaturesall these shall not only obtain remission of their sins, but carry on a 
balance of good to their account which shall ensure them a happy old age in the life to 
come.52 Of the above three clauses, two were proposed by the officials attached to this 
Seventh Court, the third by the Chief Justice of the great Gehenna, and the whole 
submitted together for the approval of God, the following Rescript being obtained:
Let it be as proposed; let the three clauses be copied into the Divine Panorama, and 
let the officials concerned be promoted or rewarded. Also, in case of crimes other than 
those already provided for, let such be punished according to the statutes of the 
Rulers of the Four Continents on earth, and let any evasion of punishment and 
implication of innocent people be at once reported by the proper officials for our 
consideration. This from the Throne! Obey! 

O ye sons and daughters of men, if on the 27th of the 3rd moon, fasting and 
turned towards the north, ye register a vow to pray and repent, and to publish the 
whole of the Divine Panorama for the enlightenment of mankind, then ye may escape 
the bitterness of this Seventh Court. 

THE EIGHTH COURT 

His Infernal Majesty Tu Shih reigns at the bottom of the great Ocean, due east 
below the Wu-chiao rock, in a vast noisy Court many leagues in extent, subdivided 
into sixteen wards as follows: 

In the first, the wicked souls are rolled down mountains in carts. In the second, 
they are shut up in huge saucepans. In the third, they are minced. In the fourth, their 
noses, eyes, mouths, &c., are stopped up. In the fifth, their uvulas are cut off. In the 
sixth they are exposed to all kinds of filth. In the seventh, their extremities are cut off. 
In the eighth, their viscera[53] are fried. In the ninth, their marrow is cauterised. In 
the tenth, their bowels are scratched. In the eleventh, they are inwardly burned with 
fire. In the twelfth, they are disembowelled. In the thirteenth, their chests are torn 
open. In the fourteenth, their skulls are split and their teeth dragged out. In the 
fifteenth, they are hacked and gashed. In the sixteenth, they are pricked with steel 
prongs. 

Those who are unfilial, who do not nourish their relatives while alive or bury 
them when dead, who subject their parents to fright, sorrow, or anxiety if they do 
not quickly repent them of their former sins, the Spirit of the Hearth will report their 
misdoings and gradually deprive them of what prosperity they may be enjoying. Those 


who indulge in magic and sorcery will, after death, when they have been tortured in 
the other Courts, be brought here to this Court, and dragged backwards by bull-
headed, horse-faced devils to be thrust into the great Gehenna. Then when they have 
been tortured in the various wards they will be passed on to the Tenth Court, whence 
at the expiration of a kalpa[54] they will be sent back to earth with changed heads and 
faces for ever to find their place amongst the brute creation. But those who believe in 
the 

 

52 When they are born again on earth. 

53 Heart, lungs, spleen, liver, and kidneys. 

54 Many millions of years. [p. 481] 

Divine Panorama, and on the 1st of the 4th moon make a vow of repentance, repeating 
the same every night and morning to the Spirit of the Hearth, shall, by virtue of one of 
three characters, obedient, acquiescent, or repentant, to be traced on their foreheads at 
death by the Spirit of the Hearth, escape half the punishments from the First to the 
Seventh Court, inclusive, and escape this Eighth Court altogether, being passed on to 
the Ninth Court, where cases of arson and poisoning are investigated, and finally born 
again from the Tenth Court among mankind as before. 

To this God added, Whosoever may circulate the Divine Panorama for the 
information of the world at large shall escape all punishment from the First to the 
Eighth Court, inclusive. Passing through the Ninth and Tenth Courts, they shall be 
born again amongst men in some happy state. 

THE NINTH COURT 

His Infernal Majesty Ping Tng reigns at the bottom of the great Ocean, away to 
the south-west, below the Wu-chiao rock. His is the vast, circular hell of A-pi, many 
leagues in breadth, jealously enclosed by an iron net, and subdivided into sixteen 
wards, as follows: 

In the first, the wicked souls have their bones beaten and their bodies scorched. 
In the second, their muscles are drawn out and their bones rapped. In the third, 
ducks eat their heart and liver. In the fourth, dogs eat their intestines and lungs. In 
the fifth, they are splashed with hot oil. In the sixth, their heads are crushed in a 
frame, and their tongues and teeth are drawn out. In the seventh, their brains are 
taken out and their skulls filled with hedgehogs. In the eighth, their heads are 
steamed and their brains scraped. In the ninth, they are dragged about by sheep till 
they drop to pieces. In the tenth, they are squeezed in a wooden press and pricked on 
the head. In the eleventh, their hearts are ground in a mill. In the twelfth, boiling 
water drips on to their bodies. In the thirteenth, they are stung by wasps. In the 
fourteenth, they are tortured by ants and maggots; they are then stewed, and finally 
wrung out (like clothes). In the fifteenth, they are stung by scorpions. In the sixteenth, 
they are tortured by venomous snakes, crimson and scarlet. 

All who on earth have committed one of the ten great crimes, and have deserved 
either the lingering death, decapitation, strangulation, or other punishment, shall, 
after passing through the tortures of the previous Courts, be brought to this Court, 
together with those guilty of arson, of making ku poison,55 bad books, stupefying 


drugs, and many other disgraceful acts. Then, if it be found that, hearkening to the 
words of the Divine Panorama, they subsequently destroyed the blocks of these books, 
burnt their prescriptions, and ceased practising the magical art, they shall escape the 
punishments of 

 

55 The following recipe for this deadly poison is given in the well-known 
Chinese work Instructions to Coroners:Take a quantity of insects of all 
kinds and throw them into a vessel of any kind; cover them up, and let a 
year pass away before you look at them again. The insects will have 
killed and eaten each other, until there is only one survivor, and this one 
is Ku. [p. 482] 

this Court and be passed on to the Tenth Court, thence to be born again amongst the 
sons of men. But if, having heard the warnings of the Divine Panorama, they still 
continue to sin, from the Second to the Eighth Court their tortures shall be increased. 
They shall be bound on to a hollow copper pillar, clasping it round with their hands 
and feet. Then the pillar shall be filled with fierce fire, so as to burn into their heart 
and liver; and afterwards their feet shall be plunged into the great Gehenna of A-pi, 
knives shall be thrust into their lungs, they shall bite their own hearts, and gradually 
sink to the uttermost depths of hell, there to endure excruciating torments until the 
victims of their wickedness have either recovered the property out of which they were 
cheated, or the life that was taken away from them, and until every trace of book, 
prescription, picture, &c., formerly used by these wicked souls has disappeared from 
the face of the earth. Then, and only then, may they pass into the Tenth Court to be 
born again in one of the Six States of existence. 

O ye who have committed such crimes as these, on the 8th of the 4th moon, or 
the 1st or 15th (of any moon), fasting swear that you will buy up all bad books and 
magical pamphlets and utterly destroy them with fire; or that you will circulate copies 
of the Divine Panorama to be a warning to others! Then, when your last moment is at 
hand, the Spirit of the Hearth will write on your forehead the two words He obeyed, 
and from the Second up to the Ninth Court your good deeds will be rewarded by a 
diminution of such punishments as you have incurred. People in the higher ranks of 
life who secure incendiaries or murderers, who destroy the blocks of bad books, or 
publish notices warning others, and offer rewards for the production of such books, 
will be rewarded by the success of their sons and grandsons at the public 
examinations. Poor people who, by a great effort, manage to have the Divine Panorama 
circulated for the benefit of mankind, will be forwarded at once to the Tenth Court, 
and thence be born again in some happy state on earth. 

THE TENTH COURT 

His Infernal Majesty Chuan Lun[56] reigns in the Dark Land, due east, away 
below the Wu-chiao rock, just opposite the Wu-cho of this world. There he has six 
bridges, of gold, silver, jade, stone, wood, and planks, over which all souls must pass. 
He examines the shades that are sent from the other courts, and, according to their 
deserts, sends them back to earth as men, women, old, young, high, low, rich, or poor, 
forwarding monthly a list of their names to the judge of the First Court for 
transmission to Fng-tu.57 

The regulations provide that all beasts, birds, fishes, and insects, whether biped, 


quadruped, or otherwise, shall after death become chien,58 to be born again for long 
and short lives alternately. But such as may possibly have taken life, and such as 
must necessarily have taken life, will pass through a revolution of the Wheel, and 

 

56 He who turns the wheel; a chakravartti raja. 

57 The capital city of the Infernal Regions. 

58 The ghosts of dead people are believed to be liable to death. The ghost 
of a ghost is called chien. [p. 483] 

then, when their sins have been examined, they will be sent up on earth to receive the 
proper retribution. At the end of every year a report will be forwarded to Fng-tu. 

Those scholars who study the Book of Changes, or priests who chant their 
liturgies, cannot be tortured in the Ten Courts for the sins they have committed. When 
they come to this Court their names and features are taken down in a book kept for 
the purpose, and they are forwarded to Mother Mng, who drives them on to the 
Terrace of Oblivion and doses them with the draught of forgetfulness. Then they are 
born again in the world for a day, a week, or it may be a year, when they die once 
more; and now, having forgotten the holy words of the Three Religions,59 they are 
carried off by devils to the various Courts, and are properly punished for their former 
crimes. 

All souls whose balance of good and evil is exact, whose period of punishment is 
completed, or whose crimes are many and good deeds few, as soon as their future 
state has been decided,man, woman, beautiful, ugly, comfort, toil, wealth, or poverty, 
as the case may be,must pass through the Terrace of Oblivion. 

Amongst those shades, on their way to be born again in the world of human 
beings, there are often to be found women who cry out that they have some old and 
bitter wrong to avenge,60 and that rather than be born again amongst men they would 
prefer to enter the ranks of hungry devils.61 On examining them more closely it 
generally comes out that they are the virtuous victims of some wicked student, who 
may perhaps have an eye to their money, and accordingly dresses himself out to 
entrap them, or promises marriage when sometimes he has a wife already, or offers to 
take care of an aged mother or a late husbands children. Thus the foolish women are 
beguiled, and put their property in the wicked mans hands. By-and-by he turns 
round upon and reviles them, and, losing face in the eyes of their relatives and friends, 
with no one to redress their wrong, they are driven to commit suicide. Then, 
hearing[62] that their seducer is likely to succeed at the examination, they beg and 
implore to be allowed to go back and compass his death. Now, although what they 
urge is true enough, yet that mans destiny may not be worked out, or the transmitted 
effects of his ancestors virtue may not have passed away;63 therefore, as a 
compromise, these injured shades are allowed to send a spirit to the Examination Hall 
to hinder and confuse him in the preparation of his paper, or to change the names on 
the published list of successful candidates; and finally, when his hour arrives, to 
proceed with the spirit who carries the death-summons, seize him, and bring him to 
the First Court for judgment. 

Ye who on the 17th of the 4th moon swear to carry out the precepts of the 


Divine Panorama, and frequently make these words the subject of your conversation, 
may in the life to come be born again 

 

59 Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism. 

60 Women are considered in China to be far more revengeful than men. Cf. 
Sweet is revenge, especially to women. 

61 See Authors Own Record (in Introduction), note 28. 

62 While in Purgatory. 

63 It was mentioned above that the rewards for virtue would he continued to a 
mans sons and grandsons. [p. 484] 

amongst men and escape official punishments, fire, flood, and all accidents to the 
body. 

The place where the Wheel of Fate goes round is many leagues in extent, 
enclosed on all sides by an iron palisade. Within are eighty-one subdivisions, each of 
which has its proper officers and magisterial appointments. Beyond the palisade there 
is a labyrinth of 108,000 paths leading by direct and circuitous routes back to earth. 
Inside it is as dark as pitch, and through it pass the spirits of priest and layman alike. 
But to one who looks from the outside everything is seen as clear as crystal, and the 
attendants who guard the place all have the faces and features they had at their birth. 
These attendants are chosen from virtuous people who in life were noted for filial piety, 
friendship, or respect for life, and are sent here to look after the working of the Wheel 
and such duties. If for a space of five years they make no mistakes they are promoted 
to a higher office; but if found to be lazy or careless they are reported to the Throne for 
punishment. 

Those who in life have been unfilial or have destroyed much life, when they 
have been tortured in the various Courts are brought here and beaten to death with 
peach twigs. They then become chien, and with changed heads and altered faces are 
turned out into the labyrinth to proceed by the path which ends in the brute creation. 

Birds, beasts, fishes, and insects may after many myriads of kalpas again 
resume their original shapes; and if there are any that during three existences do not 
destroy life, they may be born amongst human beings as a reward, a record being 
made and their names forwarded to the First Court for approval. But all shades of 
men and women must proceed to the Terrace of Oblivion. 

Mother Mng was born in the Earlier Han Dynasty. In her childhood she 
studied books of the Confucian school; when she grew up she chanted the liturgies of 
Buddha. Of the past and the future she had no care, but occupied herself in exhorting 
mankind to desist from taking life and become vegetarians. At eighty-one years of age 
her hair was white and her complexion like a childs She lived and died a virgin, 
calling herself simply Mng; but men called her Mother Mng. She retired to the hills 
and lived as a religieuse until the Later Han. 

Then because certain evil-doers, relying on their knowledge of the past, used to 
beguile women by pretending to have been their husbands in a former life, God 
commissioned Mother Mng to build the Terrace of Oblivion, and appointed her as 
guardian, with devils to wait upon her and execute her commands. It was arranged 


that all shades who had been sentenced in the Ten Courts to return in various 
conditions to earth should first be dosed by her with a decoction of herbs, sweet, bitter, 
acrid, sour, or salt. Thus they forget everything that has previously happened to them, 
and carry away with them to earth some slight weaknesses, such as the mouth 
watering at the thought (of something nice), laughter inducing perspiration, fear 
inducing tears, anger inducing sobs, or spitting from nervousness. Good spirits who 
go back into the world will have their senses of sight, hearing, smell, and taste very 
much increased in power, and their physical strength and constitution generally will 
be much bettered. But evil spirits [p. 485] will experience the exact contrary of this, as 
a reward for previous sins and as a warning to others to pray and repent.1[1] 

The Terrace is situated in front of the Ten Courts, outside the six bridges. It is 
square, measuring ten (Chinese) feet every way, and surrounded by 108 small rooms. 
To the east there is a raised path, one foot four inches in breadth, and in the rooms 
abovementioned are prepared cups of forgetfulness ready for the arrival of the shades. 
Whether they swallow much or little it matters not; but sometimes there are perverse 
devils who altogether refuse to drink. Then beneath their feet ssharp blades start up, 
and a copper tube is forced down their throats, by which means they are compelled to 
swallow some. When they have drunk, they are raised by the attendants and escorted 
back by the same path. They are next pushed on to the Bitter Bamboo floating bridge, 
with torrents of rushing red water on either side. Half-way across they perceive written 
in large characters on a red cliff on the opposite side the following lines: 

To be a man is easy, but to act up to ones responsibilities as such 
is hard. 

Yet to be a man once again is perhaps harder still. 

 

For those who would be born again in some happy state there is no 
great difficulty; 

It is only necessary to keep mouth and heart in harmony, 

 

When the shades have read these words they try to jump on shore, but are 
beaten back into the water by two huge devils. One has on a black official hat and 
embroidered clothes; in his hand he holds a paper pencil, and over his shoulder he 
carries a sharp sword. Instruments of torture hang at his waist, fiercely he glares out 
of his large round eyes and laughs a horrid laugh. His name is Short Life. 

The other has a dirty face smeared with blood; he has on a white coat, an 
abacus in his hand and a rice sack over his shoulder. Round his neck hangs a string 
of paper money; his brow contracts hideously, and he utters long sighs. His name is 
They have their reward, and his duty is to push the shades into the red water. The 
wicked and foolish rejoice at the prospect of being born once more as human beings; 
but the better shades weep and mourn that in life they did not lay up a store of 
virtuous acts, and thus pass away from the state of mortals for ever.64 Yet they all 
rush on to birth like an infatuated or drunken crowd; and again, in their early 
childhood, hanker after the forbidden flavours.65 Then, regardless of consequences, 
they begin to destroy life, and thus forfeit all claims to the mercy and compassion of 
God. They take no thought as to the end that must overtake them; and finally, they 
bring themselves once more to the same horrid plight. 

1[1] [T.C. Again, not too kind to the disabled.] 


 

64 That is, go to heaven. 

65 Of meat, wine, &c. [p. 486] 

APPENDIX II. 

ANCESTRAL WORSHIP 

The rudimentary form of all religion is the propitiation of dead ancestors, who 
are supposed to be still existing, and to be capable of working good or evil to their 
descendants.SPENCERS ESSAYS. Vol. iii., p. 102. The Origin of Animal Worship. 

BILOCATION 

As a general rule, people are apt to consider it impossible for a man to be in 
two places at once, and indeed a saying to that effect has become a popular saw. But 
the rule is so far from being universally accepted, that the word bilocation has been 
invented to express the miraculous faculty possessed by certain saints of the Roman 
Church, of being in two places at once; like St. Alfonso di Liguori, who had the useful 
power of preaching his sermon in church, while he was confessing penitents at home. 
TYLORs Primitive Culture. Vol. i., p. 447. 

BURIAL RITES 

Hence the various burial ritesthe placing of weapons and valuables along 
with the body, the daily bringing of food to it, &c. I hope hereafter to show that with 
such knowledge of facts as he has, this interpretation is the most reasonable the 
savage can arrive at. SPENCERS ESSAYS. Vol. iii., p. 104, The Origin of Animal 
Worship. 

DREAMS 

The distinction so easily made by us between our life in dreams and our real 
life is one which the savage recognises in but a vague way; and he cannot express 
even that distinction which he perceives. When he awakes, and to those who have 
seen him lying quietly asleep, describes where he has been, and what he has done, his 
rude language fails to state the difference between seeing and dreaming that he saw, 
doing and dreaming that he did. From this inadequacy of his language it not only 
results that he cannot truly represent this difference to others, but also that he cannot 
truly represent it to himself. SPENCERS ESSAYS. Vol. iii., pp. 103, 104. [p. 487] 

SHADE OR SHADOW 

The ghost or phantasm seen by the dreamer or the visionary is an 
unsubstantial form, like a shadow, and thus the familiar term of the shade comes in 
to express the soul. Thus the Tasmanian word for the shadow is also that for the spirit; 
the Algonquin Indians describe a mans soul as otahchuk, his shadow; the Quich 
language uses natub for shadow, soul; the Arawac ueja means shadow, soul, image; 
the Abipones made the one word lokal serve for shadow, soul, echo, image. 
TYLORs Primitive Culture. Vol. i., p. 430. 

SHADOW 

Thus the dead in Purgatory knew that Dante was alive when they saw that, 
unlike theirs, his figure cast a shadow on the ground.TYLORs Primitive Culture. Vol. 


i., p. 431. 

THE SOUL 

The savage, conceiving a corpse to be deserted by the active personality who 
dwelt in it, conceives this active personality to be still existing, and his feelings and 
ideas concerning it form the basis of his superstitions.SPENCERS ESSAYS. Vol. iii., 
p. 103. The Origin o f Animal Worship. 

TRANSMIGRATION 

Whether the Buddhists receive the full Hindu doctrine of the migration of the 
individual soul from birth to birth, or whether they refine away into metaphysical 
subtleties the notion of continued personality, they do consistently and systematically 
hold that a mans life in former existences is the cause of his now being what he is, 
while at this moment he is accumulating merit or demerit whose result will determine 
his fate in future lives.TYLORS Primitive Culture. Vol. ii., p. 12. 

TRANSMIGRATION 

Memory, it is true, fails generally to recall these past births, but memory, as we 
know, stops short of the beginning even of this present life.TYLORs Primitive 
Culture. Vol. ii., p. 12. 

TRANSMIGRATION 

As for believers, savage or civilised, in the great doctrine of metempsychosis, 
these not only consider that an animal may have a soul, but that this soul may have 
inhabited a human being, and thus the creature may be in fact their own ancestor or 
once familiar friend.TYLORs Primitive Culture. Vol. i., p. 469. [p. 488] 

TREE-SOULS 

Orthodox Buddhism decided against the tree-souls, and consequently against 
the scruple to harm them, declaring trees to have no mind nor sentient principle, 
though admitting that certain dewas or spirits do reside in the body of trees, and 
speak from within them.TYLORs Primitive Culture.Vol. i., p. 475. 

 

 


 

 


