THE WALLET OF KAI LUNG

By Ernest Bramah



  “Ho, illustrious passers-by!” says Kai Lung as he spreads out his
  embroidered mat under the mulberry-tree. “It is indeed unlikely
  that you could condescend to stop and listen to the foolish words
  of such an insignificant and altogether deformed person as myself.
  Nevertheless, if you will but retard your elegant footsteps for a
  few moments, this exceedingly unprepossessing individual will
  endeavour to entertain you.” This is a collection of Kai Lung’s
  entertaining tales, told professionally in the market places as he
  travelled about; told sometimes to occupy and divert the minds of
  his enemies when they were intent on torturing him.




I.
THE TRANSMUTATION OF LING


CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION


The sun had dipped behind the western mountains before Kai Lung, with
twenty li or more still between him and the city of Knei Yang, entered
the camphor-laurel forest which stretched almost to his destination.
No person of consequence ever made the journey unattended; but Kai Lung
professed to have no fear, remarking with extempore wisdom, when warned
at the previous village, that a worthless garment covered one with
better protection than that afforded by an army of bowmen. Nevertheless,
when within the gloomy aisles, Kai Lung more than once wished himself
back at the village, or safely behind the mud walls of Knei Yang; and,
making many vows concerning the amount of prayer-paper which he would
assuredly burn when he was actually through the gates, he stepped
out more quickly, until suddenly, at a turn in the glade, he stopped
altogether, while the watchful expression into which he had unguardedly
dropped at once changed into a mask of impassiveness and extreme
unconcern. From behind the next tree projected a long straight rod, not
unlike a slender bamboo at a distance, but, to Kai Lung’s all-seeing
eye, in reality the barrel of a matchlock, which would come into line
with his breast if he took another step. Being a prudent man, more
accustomed to guile and subservience to destiny than to force, he
therefore waited, spreading out his hands in proof of his peaceful
acquiescence, and smiling cheerfully until it should please the owner
of the weapon to step forth. This the unseen did a moment later, still
keeping his gun in an easy and convenient attitude, revealing a stout
body and a scarred face, which in conjunction made it plain to Kai Lung
that he was in the power of Lin Yi, a noted brigand of whom he had heard
much in the villages.

“O illustrious person,” said Kai Lung very earnestly, “this is evidently
an unfortunate mistake. Doubtless you were expecting some exalted
Mandarin to come and render you homage, and were preparing to overwhelm
him with gratified confusion by escorting him yourself to your
well-appointed abode. Indeed, I passed such a one on the road, very
richly apparelled, who inquired of me the way to the mansion of the
dignified and upright Lin Yi. By this time he is perhaps two or three li
towards the east.”

“However distinguished a Mandarin may be, it is fitting that I should
first attend to one whose manners and accomplishments betray him to be
of the Royal House,” replied Lin Yi, with extreme affability. “Precede
me, therefore, to my mean and uninviting hovel, while I gain more
honour than I can reasonably bear by following closely in your elegant
footsteps, and guarding your Imperial person with this inadequate but
heavily-loaded weapon.”

Seeing no chance of immediate escape, Kai Lung led the way, instructed
by the brigand, along a very difficult and bewildering path, until they
reached a cave hidden among the crags. Here Lin Yi called out some words
in the Miaotze tongue, whereupon a follower appeared, and opened a gate
in the stockade of prickly mimosa which guarded the mouth of the den.
Within the enclosure a fire burned, and food was being prepared. At a
word from the chief, the unfortunate Kai Lung found his hands seized and
tied behind his back, while a second later a rough hemp rope was fixed
round his neck, and the other end tied to an overhanging tree.

Lin Yi smiled pleasantly and critically upon these preparations, and
when they were complete dismissed his follower.

“Now we can converse at our ease and without restraint,” he remarked to
Kai Lung. “It will be a distinguished privilege for a person occupying
the important public position which you undoubtedly do; for myself,
my instincts are so degraded and low-minded that nothing gives me more
gratification than to dispense with ceremony.”

To this Kai Lung made no reply, chiefly because at that moment the wind
swayed the tree, and compelled him to stand on his toes in order to
escape suffocation.

“It would be useless to try to conceal from a person of your inspired
intelligence that I am indeed Lin Yi,” continued the robber. “It is a
dignified position to occupy, and one for which I am quite incompetent.
In the sixth month of the third year ago, it chanced that this unworthy
person, at that time engaged in commercial affairs at Knei Yang, became
inextricably immersed in the insidious delights of quail-fighting.
Having been entrusted with a large number of taels with which to
purchase elephants’ teeth, it suddenly occurred to him that if he
doubled the number of taels by staking them upon an exceedingly powerful
and agile quail, he would be able to purchase twice the number of teeth,
and so benefit his patron to a large extent. This matter was clearly
forced upon his notice by a dream, in which he perceived one whom he
then understood to be the benevolent spirit of an ancestor in the act
of stroking a particular quail, upon whose chances he accordingly
placed all he possessed. Doubtless evil spirits had been employed in the
matter; for, to this person’s great astonishment, the quail in question
failed in a very discreditable manner at the encounter. Unfortunately,
this person had risked not only the money which had been entrusted to
him, but all that he had himself become possessed of by some years of
honourable toil and assiduous courtesy as a professional witness in
law cases. Not doubting that his patron would see that he was himself
greatly to blame in confiding so large a sum of money to a comparatively
young man of whom he knew little, this person placed the matter before
him, at the same time showing him that he would suffer in the eyes of
the virtuous if he did not restore this person’s savings, which but for
the presence of the larger sum, and a generous desire to benefit his
patron, he would never have risked in so uncertain a venture as that of
quail-fighting. Although the facts were laid in the form of a dignified
request instead of a demand by legal means, and the reasoning carefully
drawn up in columns of fine parchment by a very illustrious writer, the
reply which this person received showed him plainly that a wrong view
had been taken of the matter, and that the time had arrived when it
became necessary for him to make a suitable rejoinder by leaving the
city without delay.”

“It was a high-minded and disinterested course to take,” said Kai
Lung with great conviction, as Lin Yi paused. “Without doubt evil will
shortly overtake the avaricious-souled person at Knei Yang.”

“It has already done so,” replied Lin Yi. “While passing through this
forest in the season of Many White Vapours, the spirits of his bad deeds
appeared to him in misleading and symmetrical shapes, and drew him out
of the path and away from his bowmen. After suffering many torments, he
found his way here, where, in spite of our continual care, he perished
miserably and in great bodily pain.... But I cannot conceal from
myself, in spite of your distinguished politeness, that I am becoming
intolerably tiresome with my commonplace talk.”

“On the contrary,” replied Kai Lung, “while listening to your voice I
seemed to hear the beating of many gongs of the finest and most polished
brass. I floated in the Middle Air, and for the time I even became
unconscious of the fact that this honourable appendage, though
fashioned, as I perceive, out of the most delicate silk, makes it
exceedingly difficult for me to breathe.”

“Such a thing cannot be permitted,” exclaimed Lin Yi, with some
indignation, as with his own hands he slackened the rope and, taking it
from Kai Lung’s neck, fastened it around his ankle. “Now, in return for
my uninviting confidences, shall not my senses be gladdened by a recital
of the titles and honours borne by your distinguished family? Doubtless,
at this moment many Mandarins of the highest degree are anxiously
awaiting your arrival at Knei Yang, perhaps passing the time by outdoing
one another in protesting the number of taels each would give rather
than permit you to be tormented by fire-brands, or even to lose a single
ear.”

“Alas!” replied Kai Lung, “never was there a truer proverb than that
which says, ‘It is a mark of insincerity of purpose to spend one’s
time in looking for the sacred Emperor in the low-class tea-shops.’
Do Mandarins or the friends of Mandarins travel in mean garments and
unattended? Indeed, the person who is now before you is none other than
the outcast Kai Lung, the story-teller, one of degraded habits and no
very distinguished or reputable ancestors. His friends are few, and
mostly of the criminal class; his wealth is not more than some six or
eight cash, concealed in his left sandal; and his entire stock-in-trade
consists of a few unendurable and badly told stories, to which, however,
it is his presumptuous intention shortly to add a dignified narrative
of the high-born Lin Yi, setting out his domestic virtues and the
honour which he has reflected upon his house, his valour in war, the
destruction of his enemies, and, above all, his great benevolence and
the protection which he extends to the poor and those engaged in the
distinguished arts.”

“The absence of friends is unfortunate,” said Lin Yi thoughtfully, after
he had possessed himself of the coins indicated by Kai Lung, and also
of a much larger amount concealed elsewhere among the story-teller’s
clothing. “My followers are mostly outlawed Miaotze, who have been
driven from their own tribes in Yun Nan for man-eating and disregarding
the sacred laws of hospitality. They are somewhat rapacious, and in this
way it has become a custom that they should have as their own, for
the purpose of exchanging for money, persons such as yourself, whose
insatiable curiosity has led them to this place.”

“The wise and all-knowing Emperor Fohy instituted three degrees of
attainment: Being poor, to obtain justice; being rich, to escape
flattery; and being human, to avoid the passions,” replied Kai Lung.
“To these the practical and enlightened Kang added yet another, the
greatest: Being lean, to yield fatness.”

“In such cases,” observed the brigand, “the Miaotze keep an honoured and
very venerable rite, which chiefly consists in suspending the offender
by a pigtail from a low tree, and placing burning twigs of hemp-palm
between his toes. To this person it seems a foolish and meaningless
habit; but it would not be well to interfere with their religious
observances, however trivial they may appear.”

“Such a course must inevitably end in great loss,” suggested Kai Lung;
“for undoubtedly there are many poor yet honourable persons who would
leave with them a bond for a large number of taels and save the money
with which to redeem it, rather than take part in a ceremony which is
not according to one’s own Book of Rites.”

“They have already suffered in that way on one or two occasions,”
 replied Lin Yi; “so that such a proposal, no matter how nobly intended,
would not gladden their faces. Yet they are simple and docile persons,
and would, without doubt, be moved to any feeling you should desire by
the recital of one of your illustrious stories.”

“An intelligent and discriminating assemblage is more to a story-teller
than much reward of cash from hands that conceal open mouths,” replied
Kai Lung with great feeling. “Nothing would confer more pleasurable
agitation upon this unworthy person than an opportunity of narrating
his entire stock to them. If also the accomplished Lin Yi would bestow
renown upon the occasion by his presence, no omen of good would be
wanting.”

“The pleasures of the city lie far behind me,” said Lin Yi, after
some thought, “and I would cheerfully submit myself to an intellectual
accomplishment such as you are undoubtedly capable of. But as we have
necessity to leave this spot before the hour when the oak-leaves change
into night-moths, one of your amiable stories will be the utmost we can
strengthen our intellects with. Select which you will. In the meantime,
food will be brought to refresh you after your benevolent exertions
in conversing with a person of my vapid understanding. When you have
partaken, or thrown it away as utterly unendurable, the time will have
arrived, and this person, together with all his accomplices, will put
themselves in a position to be subjected to all the most dignified
emotions.”



CHAPTER II

“The story which I have selected for this gratifying occasion,” said Kai
Lung, when, an hour or so later, still pinioned, but released from the
halter, he sat surrounded by the brigands, “is entitled ‘Good and
Evil,’ and it is concerned with the adventures of one Ling, who bore the
honourable name of Ho. The first, and indeed the greater, part of
the narrative, as related by the venerable and accomplished writer
of history Chow-Tan, is taken up by showing how Ling was assuredly
descended from an enlightened Emperor of the race of Tsin; but as the
no less omniscient Ta-lin-hi proves beyond doubt that the person in
question was in no way connected with any but a line of hereditary
ape-worshippers, who entered China from an unknown country many
centuries ago, it would ill become this illiterate person to express
an opinion on either side, and he will in consequence omit the first
seventeen books of the story, and only deal with the three which refer
to the illustrious Ling himself.”


THE STORY OF LING

Narrated by Kai Lung when a prisoner in the camp of Lin Yi.

Ling was the youngest of three sons, and from his youth upwards proved
to be of a mild and studious disposition. Most of his time was spent in
reading the sacred books, and at an early age he found the worship of
apes to be repulsive to his gentle nature, and resolved to break through
the venerable traditions of his family by devoting his time to literary
pursuits, and presenting himself for the public examinations at Canton.
In this his resolution was strengthened by a rumour that an army of
bowmen was shortly to be raised from the Province in which he lived,
so that if he remained he would inevitably be forced into an occupation
which was even more distasteful to him than the one he was leaving.

Having arrived at Canton, Ling’s first care was to obtain particulars of
the examinations, which he clearly perceived, from the unusual
activity displayed on all sides, to be near at hand. On inquiring from
passers-by, he received very conflicting information; for the persons to
whom he spoke were themselves entered for the competition, and therefore
naturally misled him in order to increase their own chances of success.
Perceiving this, Ling determined to apply at once, although the light
was past, to a Mandarin who was concerned in the examinations, lest by
delay he should lose his chance for the year.

“It is an unfortunate event that so distinguished a person should have
selected this day and hour on which to overwhelm us with his affable
politeness!” exclaimed the porter at the gate of the Yamen, when Ling
had explained his reason for going. “On such a day, in the reign of the
virtuous Emperor Hoo Chow, a very benevolent and unassuming ancestor of
my good lord the Mandarin was destroyed by treachery, and ever since his
family has observed the occasion by fasting and no music. This person
would certainly be punished with death if he entered the inner room from
any cause.”

At these words, Ling, who had been simply brought up, and chiefly in the
society of apes, was going away with many expressions of self-reproach
at selecting such a time, when the gate-keeper called him back.

“I am overwhelmed with confusion at the position in which I find
myself,” he remarked, after he had examined his mind for a short time.
“I may meet with an ungraceful and objectionable death if I carry out
your estimable instructions, but I shall certainly merit and receive
a similar fate if I permit so renowned and versatile a person to leave
without a fitting reception. In such matters a person can only trust to
the intervention of good spirits; if, therefore, you will permit this
unworthy individual to wear, while making the venture, the ring which he
perceives upon your finger, and which he recognizes as a very powerful
charm against evil, misunderstandings, and extortion, he will go without
fear.”

Overjoyed at the amiable porter’s efforts on his behalf, Ling did as he
was desired, and the other retired. Presently the door of the Yamen was
opened by an attendant of the house, and Ling bidden to enter. He
was covered with astonishment to find that this person was entirely
unacquainted with his name or purpose.

“Alas!” said the attendant, when Ling had explained his object, “well
said the renowned and inspired Ting Fo, ‘When struck by a thunderbolt it
is unnecessary to consult the Book of Dates as to the precise meaning
of the omen.’ At this moment my noble-minded master is engaged in
conversation with all the most honourable and refined persons in Canton,
while singers and dancers of a very expert and nimble order have been
sent for. The entertainment will undoubtedly last far into the night,
and to present myself even with the excuse of your graceful and delicate
inquiry would certainly result in very objectionable consequences to
this person.”

“It is indeed a day of unprepossessing circumstances,” replied Ling,
and after many honourable remarks concerning his own intellect and
appearance, and those of the person to whom he was speaking, he had
turned to leave when the other continued:

“Ever since your dignified presence illumined this very ordinary
chamber, this person has been endeavouring to bring to his mind an
incident which occurred to him last night while he slept. Now it has
come back to him with a diamond clearness, and he is satisfied that it
was as follows: While he floated in the Middle Air a benevolent spirit
in the form of an elderly and toothless vampire appeared, leading by
the hand a young man, of elegant personality. Smiling encouragingly upon
this person, the spirit said, ‘O Fou, recipient of many favours from
Mandarins and of innumerable taels from gratified persons whom you have
obliged, I am, even at this moment, guiding this exceptional young man
towards your presence; when he arrives do not hesitate, but do as he
desires, no matter how great the danger seems or how inadequately you
may appear to be rewarded on earth.’ The vision then melted, but I now
clearly perceive that with the exception of the embroidered cloak which
you wear, you are the person thus indicated to me. Remove your cloak,
therefore, in order to give the amiable spirit no opportunity of denying
the fact, and I will advance your wishes; for, as the Book of Verses
indicates, ‘The person who patiently awaits a sign from the clouds
for many years, and yet fails to notice the earthquake at his feet, is
devoid of intellect.’”

Convinced that he was assuredly under the especial protection of the
Deities, and that the end of his search was in view, Ling gave his rich
cloak to the attendant, and was immediately shown into another room,
where he was left alone.

After a considerable space of time the door opened and there entered a
person whom Ling at first supposed to be the Mandarin. Indeed, he was
addressing him by his titles when the other interrupted him. “Do not
distress your incomparable mind by searching for honourable names
to apply to so inferior a person as myself,” he said agreeably. “The
mistake is, nevertheless, very natural; for, however miraculous it may
appear, this unseemly individual, who is in reality merely a writer of
spoken words, is admitted to be exceedingly like the dignified Mandarin
himself, though somewhat stouter, clad in better garments, and, it is
said, less obtuse of intellect. This last matter he very much doubts,
for he now finds himself unable to recognize by name one who is
undoubtedly entitled to wear the Royal Yellow.”

With this encouragement Ling once more explained his position, narrating
the events which had enabled him to reach the second chamber of the
Yamen. When he had finished the secretary was overpowered with a
high-minded indignation.

“Assuredly those depraved and rapacious persons who have both misled and
robbed you shall suffer bow-stringing when the whole matter is brought
to light,” he exclaimed. “The noble Mandarin neither fasts nor receives
guests, for, indeed, he has slept since the sun went down. This person
would unhesitatingly break his slumber for so commendable a purpose were
it not for a circumstance of intolerable unavoidableness. It must not
even be told in a low breath beyond the walls of the Yamen, but my
benevolent and high-born lord is in reality a person of very miserly
instinct, and nothing will call him from his natural sleep but the sound
of taels shaken beside his bed. In an unexpected manner it comes about
that this person is quite unsupplied with anything but thin printed
papers of a thousand taels each, and these are quite useless for the
purpose.”

“It is unendurable that so obliging a person should be put to such
inconvenience on behalf of one who will certainly become a public
laughing-stock at the examinations,” said Ling, with deep feeling; and
taking from a concealed spot in his garments a few taels, he placed them
before the secretary for the use he had indicated.

Ling was again left alone for upwards of two strokes of the gong, and
was on the point of sleep when the secretary returned with an expression
of dignified satisfaction upon his countenance. Concluding that he
had been successful in the manner of awakening the Mandarin, Ling was
opening his mouth for a polite speech, which should contain a delicate
allusion to the taels, when the secretary warned him, by affecting a
sudden look of terror, that silence was exceedingly desirable, and at
the same time opened another door and indicated to Ling that he should
pass through.

In the next room Ling was overjoyed to find himself in the presence
of the Mandarin, who received him graciously, and paid many estimable
compliments to the name he bore and the country from which he came.
When at length Ling tore himself from this enchanting conversation, and
explained the reason of his presence, the Mandarin at once became a prey
to the whitest and most melancholy emotions, even plucking two hairs
from his pigtail to prove the extent and conscientiousness of his grief.

“Behold,” he cried at length, “I am resolved that the extortionate and
many-handed persons at Peking who have control of the examination rites
and customs shall no longer grow round-bodied without remark. This
person will unhesitatingly proclaim the true facts of the case without
regarding the danger that the versatile Chancellor or even the sublime
Emperor himself may, while he speaks, be concealed in some part of this
unassuming room to hear his words; for, as it is wisely said, ‘When
marked out by destiny, a person will assuredly be drowned, even though
he passes the whole of his existence among the highest branches of a
date tree.’”

“I am overwhelmed that I should be the cause of such an engaging display
of polished agitation,” said Ling, as the Mandarin paused. “If it would
make your own stomach less heavy, this person will willingly follow your
estimable example, either with or without knowing the reason.”

“The matter is altogether on your account, O most unobtrusive young
man,” replied the Mandarin, when a voice without passion was restored
to him. “It tears me internally with hooks to reflect that you, whose
refined ancestors I might reasonably have known had I passed my youth
in another Province, should be victim to the cupidity of the ones in
authority at Peking. A very short time before you arrived there came a
messenger in haste from those persons, clearly indicating that a legal
toll of sixteen taels was to be made on each printed paper setting forth
the time and manner of the examinations, although, as you may see, the
paper is undoubtedly marked, ‘Persons are given notice that they are
defrauded of any sum which they may be induced to exchange for this
matter.’ Furthermore, there is a legal toll of nine taels on all persons
who have previously been examined--”

“I am happily escaped from that,” exclaimed Ling with some satisfaction
as the Mandarin paused.

“--and twelve taels on all who present themselves for the first time.
This is to be delivered over when the paper is purchased, so that you,
by reason of this unworthy proceeding at Peking, are required to forward
to that place, through this person, no less than thirty-two taels.”

“It is a circumstance of considerable regret,” replied Ling; “for had
I only reached Canton a day earlier, I should, it appears, have avoided
this evil.”

“Undoubtedly it would have been so,” replied the Mandarin, who had
become engrossed in exalted meditation. “However,” he continued a
moment later, as he bowed to Ling with an accomplished smile, “it
would certainly be a more pleasant thought for a person of your refined
intelligence that had you delayed until to-morrow the insatiable persons
at Peking might be demanding twice the amount.”

Pondering the deep wisdom of this remark, Ling took his departure; but
in spite of the most assiduous watchfulness he was unable to discern any
of the three obliging persons to whose efforts his success had been due.




CHAPTER III


It was very late when Ling again reached the small room which he had
selected as soon as he reached Canton, but without waiting for food or
sleep he made himself fully acquainted with the times of the forthcoming
examinations and the details of the circumstances connected with them.
With much satisfaction he found that he had still a week in which to
revive his intellect on the most difficult subjects. Having become
relieved on these points, Ling retired for a few hours’ sleep, but rose
again very early, and gave the whole day with great steadfastness to
contemplation of the sacred classics Y-King, with the exception of a
short period spent in purchasing ink, brushes and writing-leaves. The
following day, having become mentally depressed through witnessing
unaccountable hordes of candidates thronging the streets of Canton,
Ling put aside his books, and passed the time in visiting all the most
celebrated tombs in the neighbourhood of the city. Lightened in mind
by this charitable and agreeable occupation, he returned to his studies
with a fixed resolution, nor did he again falter in his purpose. On the
evening of the examination, when he was sitting alone, reading by the
aid of a single light, as his custom was, a person arrived to see him,
at the same time manifesting a considerable appearance of secrecy
and reserve. Inwardly sighing at the interruption, Ling nevertheless
received him with distinguished consideration and respect, setting tea
before him, and performing towards it many honourable actions with his
own hands. Not until some hours had sped in conversation relating to
the health of the Emperor, the unexpected appearance of a fiery dragon
outside the city, and the insupportable price of opium, did the visitor
allude to the object of his presence.

“It has been observed,” he remarked, “that the accomplished Ling, who
aspires to a satisfactory rank at the examinations, has never before
made the attempt. Doubtless in this case a preternatural wisdom will
avail much, and its fortunate possessor will not go unrewarded. Yet
it is as precious stones among ashes for one to triumph in such
circumstances.”

“The fact is known to this person,” replied Ling sadly, “and the thought
of the years he may have to wait before he shall have passed even the
first degree weighs down his soul with bitterness from time to time.”

“It is no infrequent thing for men of accomplished perseverance, but
merely ordinary intellects, to grow venerable within the four walls
of the examination cell,” continued the other. “Some, again, become
afflicted with various malignant evils, while not a few, chiefly those
who are presenting themselves for the first time, are so overcome on
perceiving the examination paper, and understanding the inadequate
nature of their own accomplishments, that they become an easy prey to
the malicious spirits which are ever on the watch in those places; and,
after covering their leaves with unpresentable remarks and drawings
of men and women of distinguished rank, have at length to be forcibly
carried away by the attendants and secured with heavy chains.”

“Such things undoubtedly exist,” agreed Ling; “yet by a due regard paid
to spirits, both good and bad, a proper esteem for one’s ancestors, and
a sufficiency of charms about the head and body, it is possible to be
closeted with all manner of demons and yet to suffer no evil.”

“It is undoubtedly possible to do so, according to the Immortal
Principles,” admitted the stranger; “but it is not an undertaking in
which a refined person would take intelligent pleasure; as the proverb
says, ‘He is a wise and enlightened suppliant who seeks to discover
an honourable Mandarin, but he is a fool who cries out, “I have found
one.”’ However, it is obvious that the reason of my visit is understood,
and that your distinguished confidence in yourself is merely a graceful
endeavour to obtain my services for a less amount of taels than I should
otherwise have demanded. For half the usual sum, therefore, this person
will take your place in the examination cell, and enable your versatile
name to appear in the winning lists, while you pass your moments in
irreproachable pleasures elsewhere.”

Such a course had never presented itself to Ling. As the person who
narrates this story has already marked, he had passed his life beyond
the influence of the ways and manners of towns, and at the same time
he had naturally been endowed with an unobtrusive highmindedness. It
appeared to him, in consequence, that by accepting this engaging offer
he would be placing those who were competing with him at a disadvantage.
This person clearly sees that it is a difficult matter for him to
explain how this could be, as Ling would undoubtedly reward the services
of the one who took his place, nor would the number of the competitors
be in any way increased; yet in such a way the thing took shape before
his eyes. Knowing, however, that few persons would be able to understand
this action, and being desirous of not injuring the estimable emotions
of the obliging person who had come to him, Ling made a number of
polished excuses in declining, hiding the true reason within himself. In
this way he earned the powerful malignity of the person in question,
who would not depart until he had effected a number of very disagreeable
prophecies connected with unpropitious omens and internal torments, all
of which undoubtedly had a great influence on Ling’s life beyond that
time.

Each day of the examination found Ling alternately elated or depressed,
according to the length and style of the essay which he had written
while enclosed in his solitary examination cell. The trials each lasted
a complete day, and long before the fifteen days which composed the full
examination were passed, Ling found himself half regretting that he had
not accepted his visitor’s offer, or even reviling the day on which he
had abandoned the hereditary calling of his ancestors. However, when,
after all was over, he came to deliberate with himself on his chances of
attaining a degree, he could not disguise from his own mind that he had
well-formed hopes; he was not conscious of any undignified errors, and,
in reply to several questions, he had been able to introduce
curious knowledge which he possessed by means of his exceptional
circumstances--knowledge which it was unlikely that any other candidate
would have been able to make himself master of.

At length the day arrived on which the results were to be made public;
and Ling, together with all the other competitors and many distinguished
persons, attended at the great Hall of Intellectual Coloured Lights
to hear the reading of the lists. Eight thousand candidates had been
examined, and from this number less than two hundred were to be selected
for appointments. Amid a most distinguished silence the winning names
were read out. Waves of most undignified but inevitable emotion passed
over those assembled as the list neared its end, and the chances of
success became less at each spoken word; and then, finding that his
was not among them, together with the greater part of those present, he
became a prey to very inelegant thoughts, which were not lessened by the
refined cries of triumph of the successful persons. Among this confusion
the one who had read the lists was observed to be endeavouring to make
his voice known, whereupon, in the expectation that he had omitted a
name, the tumult was quickly subdued by those who again had pleasurable
visions.

“There was among the candidates one of the name of Ling,” said he, when
no-noise had been obtained. “The written leaves produced by this person
are of a most versatile and conflicting order, so that, indeed, the
accomplished examiners themselves are unable to decide whether they
are very good or very bad. In this matter, therefore, it is clearly
impossible to place the expert and inimitable Ling among the foremost,
as his very uncertain success may have been brought about with the
assistance of evil spirits; nor would it be safe to pass over his
efforts without reward, as he may be under the protection of powerful
but exceedingly ill-advised deities. The estimable Ling is told to
appear again at this place after the gong has been struck three times,
when the matter will have been looked at from all round.”

At this announcement there arose another great tumult, several crying
out that assuredly their written leaves were either very good or very
bad; but no further proclamation was made, and very soon the hall was
cleared by force.

At the time stated Ling again presented himself at the Hall, and was
honourably received.

“The unusual circumstances of the matter have already been put forth,”
 said an elderly Mandarin of engaging appearance, “so that nothing
remains to be made known except the end of our despicable efforts to
come to an agreeable conclusion. In this we have been made successful,
and now desire to notify the result. A very desirable and not
unremunerative office, rarely bestowed in this manner, is lately vacant,
and taking into our minds the circumstances of the event, and the fact
that Ling comes from a Province very esteemed for the warlike instincts
of its inhabitants, we have decided to appoint him commander of the
valiant and blood-thirsty band of archers now stationed at Si-chow, in
the Province of Hu-Nan. We have spoken. Let three guns go off in honour
of the noble and invincible Ling, now and henceforth a commander in
the ever-victorious Army of the Sublime Emperor, brother of the Sun and
Moon, and Upholder of the Four Corners of the World.”




CHAPTER IV


Many hours passed before Ling, now more downcast in mind than the most
unsuccessful student in Canton, returned to his room and sought his
couch of dried rushes. All his efforts to have his distinguished
appointment set aside had been without avail, and he had been ordered to
reach Si-chow within a week. As he passed through the streets, elegant
processions in honour of the winners met him at every corner, and drove
him into the outskirts for the object of quietness. There he remained
until the beating of paper drums and the sound of exulting voices could
be heard no more; but even when he returned lanterns shone in many
dwellings, for two hundred persons were composing verses, setting forth
their renown and undoubted accomplishments, ready to affix to their
doors and send to friends on the next day. Not giving any portion of
his mind to this desirable act of behaviour, Ling flung himself upon the
floor, and, finding sleep unattainable, plunged himself into profound
meditation of a very uninviting order. “Without doubt,” he exclaimed,
“evil can only arise from evil, and as this person has always
endeavoured to lead a life in which his devotions have been equally
divided between the sacred Emperor, his illustrious parents, and his
venerable ancestors, the fault cannot lie with him. Of the excellence of
his parents he has full knowledge; regarding the Emperor, it might
not be safe to conjecture. It is therefore probable that some of his
ancestors were persons of abandoned manner and inelegant habits, to
worship whom results in evil rather than good. Otherwise, how could it
be that one whose chief delight lies in the passive contemplation of the
Four Books and the Five Classics, should be selected by destiny to fill
a position calling for great personal courage and an aggressive nature?
Assuredly it can only end in a mean and insignificant death, perhaps not
even followed by burial.”

In this manner of thought he fell asleep, and after certain very base
and impressive dreams, from which good omens were altogether absent, he
awoke, and rose to begin his preparations for leaving the city. After
two days spent chiefly in obtaining certain safeguards against treachery
and the bullets of foemen, purchasing opium and other gifts with
which to propitiate the soldiers under his charge, and in consulting
well-disposed witches and readers of the future, he set out, and by
travelling in extreme discomfort, reached Si-chow within five days.
During his journey he learned that the entire Province was engaged in
secret rebellion, several towns, indeed, having declared against
the Imperial army without reserve. Those persons to whom Ling spoke
described the rebels, with respectful admiration, as fierce and
unnaturally skilful in all methods of fighting, revengeful and merciless
towards their enemies, very numerous and above the ordinary height of
human beings, and endowed with qualities which made their skin capable
of turning aside every kind of weapon. Furthermore, he was assured that
a large band of the most abandoned and best trained was at that moment
in the immediate neighbourhood of Si-chow.

Ling was not destined long to remain in any doubt concerning the truth
of these matters, for as he made his way through a dark cypress wood,
a few li from the houses of Si-chow, the sounds of a confused outcry
reached his ears, and on stepping aside to a hidden glade some distance
from the path, he beheld a young and elegant maiden of incomparable
beauty being carried away by two persons of most repulsive and
undignified appearance, whose dress and manner clearly betrayed them to
be rebels of the lowest and worst-paid type. At this sight Ling became
possessed of feelings of a savage yet agreeable order, which until
that time he had not conjectured to have any place within his mind, and
without even pausing to consider whether the planets were in favourable
positions for the enterprise to be undertaken at that time, he drew his
sword, and ran forward with loud cries. Unsettled in their intentions
at this unexpected action, the two persons turned and advanced upon Ling
with whirling daggers, discussing among themselves whether it would be
better to kill him at the first blow or to take him alive, and, when
the day had become sufficiently cool for the full enjoyment of the
spectacle, submit him to various objectionable tortures of so degraded a
nature that they were rarely used in the army of the Emperor except upon
the persons of barbarians. Observing that the maiden was not bound, Ling
cried out to her to escape and seek protection within the town, adding,
with a magnanimous absence of vanity:

“Should this person chance to fall, the repose which the presence of
so lovely and graceful a being would undoubtedly bring to his departing
spirit would be out-balanced by the unendurable thought that his
commonplace efforts had not been sufficient to save her from the two
evilly-disposed individuals who are, as he perceives, at this moment,
neglecting no means within their power to accomplish his destruction.”
 Accepting the discernment of these words, the maiden fled, first
bestowing a look upon Ling which clearly indicated an honourable regard
for himself, a high-minded desire that the affair might end profitably
on his account, and an amiable hope that they should meet again, when
these subjects could be expressed more clearly between them.

In the meantime Ling had become at a disadvantage, for the time occupied
in speaking and in making the necessary number of bows in reply to
her entrancing glance had given the other persons an opportunity
of arranging their charms and sacred written sentences to greater
advantage, and of occupying the most favourable ground for the
encounter. Nevertheless, so great was the force of the new emotion which
had entered into Ling’s nature that, without waiting to consider the
dangers or the best method of attack, he rushed upon them, waving his
sword with such force that he appeared as though surrounded by a circle
of very brilliant fire. In this way he reached the rebels, who both fell
unexpectedly at one blow, they, indeed, being under the impression that
the encounter had not commenced in reality, and that Ling was merely
menacing them in order to inspire their minds with terror and raise his
own spirits. However much he regretted this act of the incident which
he had been compelled to take, Ling could not avoid being filled with
intellectual joy at finding that his own charms and omens were more
distinguished than those possessed by the rebels, none of whom, as he
now plainly understood, he need fear.

Examining these things within his mind, and reflecting on the events
of the past few days, by which he had been thrown into a class of
circumstances greatly differing from anything which he had ever sought,
Ling continued his journey, and soon found himself before the southern
gate of Si-chow. Entering the town, he at once formed the resolution of
going before the Mandarin for Warlike Deeds and Arrangements, so that he
might present, without delay, the papers and seals which he had brought
with him from Canton.

“The noble Mandarin Li Keen?” replied the first person to whom Ling
addressed himself. “It would indeed be a difficult and hazardous
conjecture to make concerning his sacred person. By chance he is in the
strongest and best-concealed cellar in Si-chow, unless the sumptuous
attractions of the deepest dry well have induced him to make a short
journey”; and, with a look of great unfriendliness at Ling’s dress and
weapons, this person passed on.

“Doubtless he is fighting single-handed against the armed men by whom
the place is surrounded,” said another; “or perhaps he is constructing
an underground road from the Yamen to Peking, so that we may all escape
when the town is taken. All that can be said with certainty is that the
Heaven-sent and valorous Mandarin has not been seen outside the walls of
his well-fortified residence since the trouble arose; but, as you carry
a sword of conspicuous excellence, you will doubtless be welcome.”

Upon making a third attempt Ling was more successful, for he inquired
of an aged woman, who had neither a reputation for keen and polished
sentences to maintain, nor any interest in the acts of the Mandarin
or of the rebels. From her he learned how to reach the Yamen, and
accordingly turned his footsteps in that direction. When at length
he arrived at the gate, Ling desired his tablets to be carried to the
Mandarin with many expressions of an impressive and engaging nature,
nor did he neglect to reward the porter. It was therefore with the
expression of a misunderstanding mind that he received a reply setting
forth that Li Keen was unable to receive him. In great doubt he
prevailed upon the porter, by means of a still larger reward, again to
carry in his message, and on this occasion an answer in this detail was
placed before him.

“Li Keen,” he was informed, “is indeed awaiting the arrival of one Ling,
a noble and valiant Commander of Bowmen. He is given to understand,
it is true, that a certain person claiming the same honoured name is
standing in somewhat undignified attitudes at the gate, but he is unable
in any way to make these two individuals meet within his intellect. He
would further remind all persons that the refined observances laid down
by the wise and exalted Board of Rites and Ceremonies have a marked and
irreproachable significance when the country is in a state of disorder,
the town surrounded by rebels, and every breathing-space of time of more
than ordinary value.”

Overpowered with becoming shame at having been connected with so
unseemly a breach of civility, for which his great haste had in reality
been accountable, Ling hastened back into the town, and spent many hours
endeavouring to obtain a chair of the requisite colour in which to
visit the Mandarin. In this he was unsuccessful, until it was at length
suggested to him that an ordinary chair, such as stood for hire in the
streets of Si-chow, would be acceptable if covered with blue paper.
Still in some doubt as to what the nature of his reception would be,
Ling had no choice but to take this course, and accordingly he again
reached the Yamen in such a manner, carried by two persons whom he had
obtained for the purpose. While yet hardly at the residence a salute was
suddenly fired; all the gates and doors were, without delay, thrown open
with embarrassing and hospitable profusion, and the Mandarin himself
passed out, and would have assisted Ling to step down from his chair
had not that person, clearly perceiving that such a course would be
too great an honour, evaded him by an unobtrusive display of versatile
dexterity. So numerous and profound were the graceful remarks which each
made concerning the habits and accomplishments of the other that more
than the space of an hour was passed in traversing the small enclosed
ground which led up to the principal door of the Yamen. There an almost
greater time was agreeably spent, both Ling and the Mandarin having
determined that the other should enter first. Undoubtedly Ling, who
was the more powerful of the two, would have conferred this courteous
distinction upon Li Keen had not that person summoned to his side
certain attendants who succeeded in frustrating Ling in his high-minded
intentions, and in forcing him through the doorway in spite of his
conscientious protests against the unsurmountable obligation under which
the circumstance placed him.

Conversing in this intellectual and dignified manner, the strokes of
the gong passed unheeded; tea had been brought into their presence many
times, and night had fallen before the Mandarin allowed Ling to refer
to the matter which had brought him to the place, and to present his
written papers and seals.

“It is a valuable privilege to have so intelligent a person as the
illustrious Ling occupying this position,” remarked the Mandarin, as he
returned the papers; “and not less so on account of the one who
preceded him proving himself to be a person of feeble attainments and an
unendurable deficiency of resource.”

“To one with the all-knowing Li Keen’s mental acquisitions, such a
person must indeed have become excessively offensive,” replied Ling
delicately; “for, as it is truly said, ‘Although there exist many
thousand subjects for elegant conversation, there are persons who cannot
meet a cripple without talking about feet.’”

“He to whom I have referred was such a one,” said Li Keen, appreciating
with an expression of countenance the fitness of Ling’s proverb. “He was
totally inadequate to the requirements of his position; for he possessed
no military knowledge, and was placed in command by those at Peking as
a result of his taking a high place at one of the examinations. But more
than this, although his three years of service were almost completed,
I was quite unsuccessful in convincing him that an unseemly degradation
probably awaited him unless he could furnish me with the means with
which to propitiate the persons in authority at Peking. This he
neglected to do with obstinate pertinacity, which compelled this person
to inquire within himself whether one of so little discernment could be
trusted with an important and arduous office. After much deliberation,
this person came to the decision that the Commander in question was not
a fit person, and he therefore reported him to the Imperial Board
of Punishment at Peking as one subject to frequent and periodical
eccentricities, and possessed of less than ordinary intellect. In
consequence of this act of justice, the Commander was degraded to the
rank of common bowman, and compelled to pay a heavy fine in addition.”

“It was a just and enlightened conclusion of the affair,” said Ling, in
spite of a deep feeling of no enthusiasm, “and one which surprisingly
bore out your own prophecy in the matter.”

“It was an inspired warning to persons who should chance to be in a like
position at any time,” replied Li Keen. “So grasping and corrupt are
those who control affairs in Peking that I have no doubt they would
scarcely hesitate in debasing even one so immaculate as the exceptional
Ling, and placing him in some laborious and ill-paid civil department
should he not accede to their extortionate demands.”

This suggestion did not carry with it the unpleasurable emotions which
the Mandarin anticipated it would. The fierce instincts which had been
aroused within Ling by the incident in the cypress wood had died out,
while his lamentable ignorance of military affairs was ever before his
mind. These circumstances, together with his naturally gentle habits,
made him regard such a degradation rather favourably than otherwise.
He was meditating within himself whether he could arrange such a course
without delay when the Mandarin continued:

“That, however, is a possibility which is remote to the extent of at
least two or three years; do not, therefore, let so unpleasing a thought
cast darkness upon your brows or remove the unparalleled splendour of
so refined an occasion... Doubtless the accomplished Ling is a master of
the art of chess-play, for many of our most thoughtful philosophers have
declared war to be nothing but such a game; let this slow-witted and
cumbersome person have an opportunity, therefore, of polishing his
declining facilities by a pleasant and dignified encounter.”




CHAPTER V


On the next day, having completed his business at the Yamen, Ling left
the town, and without desiring any ceremony quietly betook himself to
his new residence within the camp, which was situated among the millet
fields some distance from Si-chow. As soon as his presence became known
all those who occupied positions of command, and whose years of service
would shortly come to an end, hastened to present themselves before
him, bringing with them offerings according to the rank they held, they
themselves requiring a similar service from those beneath them. First
among these, and next in command to Ling himself, was the Chief of
Bowmen, a person whom Ling observed with extreme satisfaction to be very
powerful in body and possessing a strong and dignified countenance
which showed unquestionable resolution and shone with a tiger-like
tenaciousness of purpose.

“Undoubtedly,” thought Ling, as he observed this noble and prepossessing
person, “here is one who will be able to assist me in whatever
perplexities may arise. Never was there an individual who seemed more
worthy to command and lead; assuredly to him the most intricate and
prolonged military positions will be an enjoyment; the most crafty
stratagems of the enemy as the full moon rising from behind a screen
of rushes. Without making any pretence of knowledge, this person will
explain the facts of the case to him and place himself without limit in
his hands.”

For this purpose he therefore detained the Chief of Bowmen when the
others departed, and complimented him, with many expressive phrases, on
the excellence of his appearance, as the thought occurred to him that
by this means, without disclosing the full measure of his ignorance, the
person in question might be encouraged to speak unrestrainedly of the
nature of his exploits, and perchance thereby explain the use of the
appliances employed and the meaning of the various words of order,
in all of which details the Commander was as yet most disagreeably
imperfect. In this, however, he was disappointed, for the Chief of
Bowmen, greatly to Ling’s surprise, received all his polished sentences
with somewhat foolish smiles of great self-satisfaction, merely replying
from time to time as he displayed his pigtail to greater advantage or
rearranged his gold-embroidered cloak:

“This person must really pray you to desist; the honour is indeed too
great.”

Disappointed in his hope, and not desiring after this circumstance to
expose his shortcomings to one who was obviously not of a highly-refined
understanding, no matter how great his valour in war or his knowledge of
military affairs might be, Ling endeavoured to lead him to converse of
the bowmen under his charge. In this matter he was more successful, for
the Chief spoke at great length and with evilly-inspired contempt of
their inelegance, their undiscriminating and excessive appetites, and
the frequent use which they made of low words and gestures. Desiring to
become acquainted rather with their methods of warfare than with their
domestic details, Ling inquired of him what formation they relied upon
when receiving the foemen.

“It is a matter which has not engaged the attention of this one,”
 replied the Chief, with an excessive absence of interest. “There are so
many affairs of intelligent dignity which cannot be put aside, and
which occupy one from beginning to end. As an example, this person may
describe how the accomplished Li-Lu, generally depicted as the Blue-eyed
Dove of Virtuous and Serpent-like Attitudes, has been scattering glory
upon the Si-chow Hall of Celestial Harmony for many days past. It is
an enlightened display which the high-souled Ling should certainly
endeavour to dignify with his presence, especially at the portion
where the amiable Li-Lu becomes revealed in the appearance of a Peking
sedan-chair bearer and describes the manner and likenesses of certain
persons--chiefly high-priests of Buddha, excessively round-bodied
merchants who feign to be detained within Peking on affairs of commerce,
maidens who attend at the tables of tea-houses, and those of both sexes
who are within the city for the first time to behold its temples and
open spaces--who are conveyed from place to place in the chair.”

“And the bowmen?” suggested Ling, with difficulty restraining an
undignified emotion.

“Really, the elegant Ling will discover them to be persons of deficient
manners, and quite unworthy of occupying his well-bred conversation,”
 replied the Chief. “As regards their methods--if the renowned Ling
insists--they fight by means of their bows, with which they discharge
arrows at the foemen, they themselves hiding behind trees and rocks.
Should the enemy be undisconcerted by the cloud of arrows, and advance,
the bowmen are instructed to make a last endeavour to frighten them back
by uttering loud shouts and feigning the voices of savage beasts of the
forest and deadly snakes.”

“And beyond that?” inquired Ling.

“Beyond that there are no instructions,” replied the Chief. “The
bowmen would then naturally take to flight, or, if such a course became
impossible, run to meet the enemy, protesting that they were convinced
of the justice of their cause, and were determined to fight on their
side in the future.”

“Would it not be of advantage to arm them with cutting weapons also?”
 inquired Ling; “so that when all their arrows were discharged they would
still be able to take part in the fight, and not be lost to us?”

“They would not be lost to us, of course,” replied the Chief, “as we
would still be with them. But such a course as the one you suggest could
not fail to end in dismay. Being as well armed as ourselves, they
would then turn upon us, and, having destroyed us, proceed to establish
leaders of their own.”

As Ling and the Chief of Bowmen conversed in this enlightened manner,
there arose a great outcry from among the tents, and presently there
entered to them a spy who had discovered a strong force of the enemy not
more than ten or twelve li away, who showed every indication of marching
shortly in the direction of Si-chow. In numbers alone, he continued,
they were greatly superior to the bowmen, and all were well armed. The
spreading of this news threw the entire camp into great confusion, many
protesting that the day was not a favourable one on which to fight,
others crying that it was their duty to fall back on Si-chow and protect
the women and children. In the midst of this tumult the Chief of Bowmen
returned to Ling, bearing in his hand a written paper which he regarded
in uncontrollable anguish.

“Oh, illustrious Ling,” he cried, restraining his grief with difficulty,
and leaning for support upon the shoulders of two bowmen, “how
prosperous indeed are you! What greater misfortune can engulf a person
who is both an ambitious soldier and an affectionate son, than to lose
such a chance of glory and promotion as only occurs once within the
lifetime, and an affectionate and venerable father upon the same day?
Behold this mandate to attend, without a moment’s delay, at the funeral
obsequies of one whom I left, only last week, in the fullness of health
and power. The occasion being an unsuitable one, I will not call upon
the courteous Ling to join me in sorrow; but his own devout filial piety
is so well known that I can conscientiously rely upon an application for
absence to be only a matter of official ceremony.”

“The application will certainly be regarded as merely official
ceremony,” replied Ling, without resorting to any delicate pretence of
meaning, “and the refined scruples of the person who is addressing me
will be fully met by the official date of his venerated father’s
death being fixed for a more convenient season. In the meantime, the
unobtrusive Chief of Bowmen may take the opportunity of requesting that
the family tomb be kept unsealed until he is heard from again.”

Ling turned away, as he finished this remark, with a dignified feeling
of not inelegant resentment. In this way he chanced to observe a large
body of soldiers which was leaving the camp accompanied by their lesser
captains, all crowned with garlands of flowers and creeping plants. In
spite of his very inadequate attainments regarding words of order, the
Commander made it understood by means of an exceedingly short sentence
that he was desirous of the men returning without delay.

“Doubtless the accomplished Commander, being but newly arrived in this
neighbourhood, is unacquainted with the significance of this display,”
 said one of the lesser captains pleasantly. “Know then, O wise and
custom-respecting Ling, that on a similar day many years ago this
valiant band of bowmen was engaged in a very honourable affair with
certain of the enemy. Since then it has been the practice to commemorate
the matter with music and other forms of delight within the large square
at Si-chow.”

“Such customs are excellent,” said Ling affably. “On this occasion,
however, the public square will be so insufferably thronged with the
number of timorous and credulous villagers who have pressed into the
town that insufficient justice would be paid to your entrancing display.
In consequence of this, we will select for the purpose some convenient
spot in the neighbourhood. The proceedings will be commenced by a
display of arrow-shooting at moving objects, followed by racing and
dancing, in which this person will lead. I have spoken.”

At these words many of the more courageous among the bowmen became
destructively inspired, and raised shouts of defiance against the enemy,
enumerating at great length the indignities which they would heap upon
their prisoners. Cries of distinction were also given on behalf of Ling,
even the more terrified exclaiming:

“The noble Commander Ling will lead us! He has promised, and assuredly
he will not depart from his word. Shielded by his broad and sacred body,
from which the bullets glance aside harmlessly, we will advance upon the
enemy in the stealthy manner affected by ducks when crossing the swamp.
How altogether superior a person our Commander is when likened unto the
leaders of the foemen--they who go into battle completely surrounded by
their archers!”

Upon this, perceiving the clear direction in which matters were turning,
the Chief of Bowmen again approached Ling.

“Doubtless the highly-favoured person whom I am now addressing has been
endowed with exceptional authority direct from Peking,” he remarked with
insidious politeness. “Otherwise this narrow-minded individual would
suggest that such a decision does not come within the judgment of a
Commander.”

In his ignorance of military matters it had not entered the mind of
Ling that his authority did not give him the power to commence an
attack without consulting other and more distinguished persons. At the
suggestion, which he accepted as being composed of truth, he paused, the
enlightened zeal with which he had been inspired dying out as he plainly
understood the difficulties by which he was enclosed. There seemed a
single expedient path for him in the matter; so, directing a person
of exceptional trustworthiness to prepare himself for a journey, he
inscribed a communication to the Mandarin Li Keen, in which he narrated
the facts and asked for speedy directions, and then despatched it with
great urgency to Si-chow.




CHAPTER VI


When these matters were arranged, Ling returned to his tent, a victim
to feelings of a deep and confused doubt, for all courses seemed to
be surrounded by extreme danger, with the strong possibility of final
disaster. While he was considering these things attentively, the spy who
had brought word of the presence of the enemy again sought him. As he
entered, Ling perceived that his face was the colour of a bleached linen
garment, while there came with him the odour of sickness.

“There are certain matters which this person has not made known,” he
said, having first expressed a request that he might not be compelled to
stand while he conversed. “The bowmen are as an inferior kind of jackal,
and they who lead them are pigs, but this person has observed that the
Heaven-sent Commander has internal organs like steel hardened in a white
fire and polished by running water. For this reason he will narrate
to him the things he has seen--things at which the lesser ones would
undoubtedly perish in terror without offering to strike a blow.”

“Speak,” said Ling, “without fear and without concealment.”

“In numbers the rebels are as three to one with the bowmen, and are,
in addition, armed with matchlocks and other weapons; this much I have
already told,” said the spy. “Yesterday they entered the village of Ki
without resistance, as the dwellers there were all peaceable persons,
who gain a living from the fields, and who neither understood nor
troubled about the matters between the rebels and the army. Relying on
the promises made by the rebel chiefs, the villagers even welcomed them,
as they had been assured that they came as buyers of their corn and
rice. To-day not a house stands in the street of Ki, not a person lives.
The men they slew quickly, or held for torture, as they desired at the
moment; the boys they hung from the trees as marks for their arrows.
Of the women and children this person, who has since been subject to
several attacks of fainting and vomiting, desires not to speak. The
wells of Ki are filled with the bodies of such as had the good fortune
to be warned in time to slay themselves. The cattle drag themselves from
place to place on their forefeet; the fish in the Heng-Kiang are dying,
for they cannot live on water thickened into blood. All these things
this person has seen.”

When he had finished speaking, Ling remained in deep and funereal
thought for some time. In spite of his mild nature, the words which
he had heard filled him with an inextinguishable desire to slay in
hand-to-hand fighting. He regretted that he had placed the decision of
the matter before Li Keen.

“If only this person had a mere handful of brave and expert warriors, he
would not hesitate to fall upon those savage and barbarous characters,
and either destroy them to the last one, or let his band suffer a like
fate,” he murmured to himself.

The return of the messenger found him engaged in reviewing the bowmen,
and still in this mood, so that it was with a commendable feeling of
satisfaction, no less than virtuous contempt, that he learned of the
Mandarin’s journey to Peking as soon as he understood that the rebels
were certainly in the neighbourhood.

“The wise and ornamental Li Keen is undoubtedly consistent in all
matters,” said Ling, with some refined bitterness. “The only
information regarding his duties which this person obtained from him
chanced to be a likening of war to skilful chess-play, and to this end
the accomplished person in question has merely availed himself of a
common expedient which places him at the remote side of the divine
Emperor. Yet this act is not unwelcome, for the responsibility of
deciding what course is to be adopted now clearly rests with this
person. He is, as those who are standing by may perceive, of under the
usual height, and of no particular mental or bodily attainments. But he
has eaten the rice of the Emperor, and wears the Imperial sign
embroidered upon his arm. Before him are encamped the enemies of his
master and of his land, and in no way will he turn his back upon them.
Against brave and skilful men, such as those whom this person commands,
rebels of a low and degraded order are powerless, and are, moreover,
openly forbidden to succeed by the Forty-second Mandate in the Sacred
Book of Arguments. Should it have happened that into this assembly any
person of a perfidious or uncourageous nature has gained entrance by
guile, and has not been detected and driven forth by his outraged
companions (as would certainly occur if such a person were discovered),
I, Ling, Commander of Bowmen, make an especial and well-considered
request that he shall be struck by a molten thunderbolt if he turns to
flight or holds thoughts of treachery.”

Having thus addressed and encouraged the soldiers, Ling instructed them
that each one should cut and fashion for himself a graceful but weighty
club from among the branches of the trees around, and then return to the
tents for the purpose of receiving food and rice spirit.

When noon was passed, allowing such time as would enable him to reach
the camp of the enemy an hour before darkness, Ling arranged the bowmen
in companies of convenient numbers, and commenced the march, sending
forward spies, who were to work silently and bring back tidings from
every point. In this way he penetrated to within a single li of the
ruins of Ki, being informed by the spies that no outposts of the enemy
were between him and that place. Here the first rest was made to
enable the more accurate and bold spies to reach them with trustworthy
information regarding the position and movements of the camp. With
little delay there returned the one who had brought the earliest
tidings, bruised and torn with his successful haste through the forest,
but wearing a complacent and well-satisfied expression of countenance.
Without hesitation or waiting to demand money before he would reveal his
knowledge, he at once disclosed that the greater part of the enemy were
rejoicing among the ruins of Ki, they having discovered there a quantity
of opium and a variety of liquids, while only a small guard remained in
the camp with their weapons ready. At these words Ling sprang from
the ground in gladness, so great was his certainty of destroying the
invaders utterly. It was, however, with less pleasurable emotions that
he considered how he should effect the matter, for it was in no way
advisable to divide his numbers into two bands. Without any feeling of
unendurable conceit, he understood that no one but himself could hold
the bowmen before an assault, however weak. In a similar manner, he
determined that it would be more advisable to attack those in the
village first. These he might have reasonable hopes of cutting down
without warning the camp, or, in any event, before those from the camp
arrived. To assail the camp first would assuredly, by the firing, draw
upon them those from the village, and in whatever evil state these might
arrive, they would, by their numbers, terrify the bowmen, who without
doubt would have suffered some loss from the matchlocks.

Waiting for the last light of day, Ling led on the men again, and
sending forward some of the most reliable, surrounded the place of the
village silently and without detection. In the open space, among broken
casks and other inconsiderable matters, plainly shown by the large fires
at which burned the last remains of the houses of Ki, many men moved
or lay, some already dull or in heavy sleep. As the darkness dropped
suddenly, the signal of a peacock’s shriek, three times uttered, rang
forth, and immediately a cloud of arrows, directed from all sides,
poured in among those who feasted. Seeing their foemen defenceless
before them, the archers neglected the orders they had received, and
throwing away their bows they rushed in with uplifted clubs, uttering
loud shouts of triumph. The next moment a shot was fired in the wood,
drums beat, and in an unbelievably short space of time a small but
well-armed band of the enemy was among them. Now that all need of
caution was at an end, Ling rushed forward with raised sword, calling
to his men that victory was certainly theirs, and dealing discriminating
and inspiriting blows whenever he met a foeman. Three times he formed
the bowmen into a figure emblematic of triumph, and led them against the
line of matchlocks. Twice they fell back, leaving mingled dead under
the feet of the enemy. The third time they stood firm, and Ling threw
himself against the waving rank in a noble and inspired endeavour to
lead the way through. At that moment, when a very distinguished victory
seemed within his hand, his elegant and well-constructed sword broke
upon an iron shield, leaving him defenceless and surrounded by the
enemy.

“Chief among the sublime virtues enjoined by the divine Confucius,”
 began Ling, folding his arms and speaking in an unmoved voice, “is an
intelligent submission--” but at that word he fell beneath a rain of
heavy and unquestionably well-aimed blows.




CHAPTER VII


Between Si-chow and the village of Ki, in a house completely hidden from
travellers by the tall and black trees which surrounded it, lived an
aged and very wise person whose ways and manner of living had become so
distasteful to his neighbours that they at length agreed to regard him
as a powerful and ill-disposed magician. In this way it became a custom
that all very unseemly deeds committed by those who, in the ordinary
course, would not be guilty of such behaviour, should be attributed
to his influence, so that justice might be effected without persons of
assured respectability being put to any inconvenience. Apart from the
feeling which resulted from this just decision, the uncongenial person
in question had become exceedingly unpopular on account of certain
definite actions of his own, as that of causing the greater part of
Si-chow to be burned down by secretly breathing upon the seven sacred
water-jugs to which the town owed its prosperity and freedom from fire.
Furthermore, although possessed of many taels, and able to afford such
food as is to be found upon the tables of Mandarins, he selected from
choice dishes of an objectionable nature; he had been observed to eat
eggs of unbecoming freshness, and the Si-chow Official Printed Leaf made
it public that he had, on an excessively hot occasion, openly partaken
of cow’s milk. It is not a matter for wonder, therefore, that when
unnaturally loud thunder was heard in the neighbourhood of Si-chow
the more ignorant and credulous persons refused to continue in any
description of work until certain ceremonies connected with rice spirit,
and the adherence to a reclining position for some hours, had been
conscientiously observed as a protection against evil.

Not even the most venerable person in Si-chow could remember the time
when the magician had not lived there, and as there existed no written
record narrating the incident, it was with well-founded probability
that he was said to be incapable of death. Contrary to the most general
practice, although quite unmarried, he had adopted no son to found a
line which would worship his memory in future years, but had instead
brought up and caused to be educated in the most difficult varieties
of embroidery a young girl, to whom he referred, for want of a more
suitable description, as the daughter of his sister, although he would
admit without hesitation, when closely questioned, that he had never
possessed a sister, at the same time, however, alluding with some
pride to many illustrious brothers, who had all obtained distinction in
various employments.

Few persons of any high position penetrated into the house of the
magician, and most of these retired with inelegant haste on perceiving
that no domestic altar embellished the great hall. Indeed, not to make
concealment of the fact, the magician was a person who had entirely
neglected the higher virtues in an avaricious pursuit of wealth. In that
way all his time and a very large number of taels had been expended,
testing results by means of the four elements, and putting together
things which had been inadequately arrived at by others. It was
confidently asserted in Si-chow that he possessed every manner of
printed leaf which had been composed in whatsoever language, and all the
most precious charms, including many snake-skins of more than ordinary
rarity, and the fang of a black wolf which had been stung by seven
scorpions.

On the death of his father the magician had become possessed of great
wealth, yet he contributed little to the funeral obsequies nor did any
suggestion of a durable and expensive nature conveying his enlightened
name and virtues down to future times cause his face to become
gladdened. In order to preserve greater secrecy about the enchantments
which he certainly performed, he employed only two persons within the
house, one of whom was blind and the other deaf. In this ingenious
manner he hoped to receive attention and yet be unobserved, the
blind one being unable to see the nature of the incantations which he
undertook, and the deaf one being unable to hear the words. In this,
however, he was unsuccessful, as the two persons always contrived to
be present together, and to explain to one another the nature of the
various matters afterwards; but as they were of somewhat deficient
understanding, the circumstance was unimportant.

It was with more uneasiness that the magician perceived one day that the
maiden whom he had adopted was no longer a child. As he desired secrecy
above all things until he should have completed the one important
matter for which he had laboured all his life, he decided with extreme
unwillingness to put into operation a powerful charm towards her, which
would have the effect of diminishing all her attributes until such time
as he might release her again. Owing to his reluctance in the matter,
however, the magic did not act fully, but only in such a way that her
feet became naturally and without binding the most perfect and beautiful
in the entire province of Hu Nan, so that ever afterwards she was called
Pan Fei Mian, in delicate reference to that Empress whose feet were so
symmetrical that a golden lily sprang up wherever she trod. Afterwards
the magician made no further essay in the matter, chiefly because he
was ever convinced that the accomplishment of his desire was within his
grasp.

The rumours of armed men in the neighbourhood of Si-chow threw the
magician into an unendurable condition of despair. To lose all, as would
most assuredly happen if he had to leave his arranged rooms and secret
preparations and take to flight, was the more bitter because he felt
surer than ever that success was even standing by his side. The very
subtle liquid, which would mix itself into the component parts of the
living creature which drank it, and by an insidious and harmless process
so work that, when the spirit departed, the flesh would become resolved
into a figure of pure and solid gold of the finest quality, had engaged
the refined minds of many of the most expert individuals of remote
ages. With most of these inspired persons, however, the search had
been undertaken in pure-minded benevolence, their chief aim being an
honourable desire to discover a method by which one’s ancestors might
be permanently and effectively preserved in a fit and becoming manner to
receive the worship and veneration of posterity. Yet, in spite of these
amiable motives, and of the fact that the magician merely desired the
possession of the secret to enable him to become excessively wealthy,
the affair had been so arranged that it should come into his possession.

The matter which concerned Mian in the dark wood, when she was only
saved by the appearance of the person who is already known as Ling,
entirely removed all pleasurable emotions from the magician’s mind, and
on many occasions he stated in a definite and systematic manner that he
would shortly end an ignoble career which seemed to be destined only
to gloom and disappointment. In this way an important misunderstanding
arose, for when, two days later, during the sound of matchlock
firing, the magician suddenly approached the presence of Mian with an
uncontrollable haste and an entire absence of dignified demeanour,
and fell dead at her feet without expressing himself on any subject
whatever, she deliberately judged that in this manner he had carried his
remark into effect, nor did the closed vessel of yellow liquid which he
held in his hand seem to lead away from this decision. In reality, the
magician had fallen owing to the heavy and conflicting emotions which
success had engendered in an intellect already greatly weakened by
his continual disregard of the higher virtues; for the bottle, indeed,
contained the perfection of his entire life’s study, the very expensive
and three-times purified gold liquid.

On perceiving the magician’s condition, Mian at once called for the two
attendants, and directed them to bring from an inner chamber all the
most effective curing substances, whether in the form of powder or
liquid. When these proved useless, no matter in what way they were
applied, it became evident that there could be very little hope of
restoring the magician, yet so courageous and grateful for the benefits
which she had received from the person in question was Mian, that, in
spite of the uninviting dangers of the enterprise, she determined to
journey to Ki to invoke the assistance of a certain person who was known
to be very successful in casting out malicious demons from the bodies
of animals, and from casks and barrels, in which they frequently took
refuge, to the great detriment of the quality of the liquid placed
therein.

Not without many hidden fears, Mian set out on her journey, greatly
desiring not to be subjected to an encounter of a nature similar to the
one already recorded; for in such a case she could hardly again hope for
the inspired arrival of the one whom she now often thought of in secret
as the well-formed and symmetrical young sword-user. Nevertheless, an
event of equal significance was destined to prove the wisdom of
the well-known remark concerning thoughts which are occupying one’s
intellect and the unexpected appearance of a very formidable evil
spirit; for as she passed along, quickly yet with so dignified a motion
that the moss received no impression beneath her footsteps, she became
aware of a circumstance which caused her to stop by imparting to her
mind two definite and greatly dissimilar emotions.

In a grassy and open space, on the verge of which she stood, lay
the dead bodies of seventeen rebels, all disposed in very degraded
attitudes, which contrasted strongly with the easy and becoming position
adopted by the eighteenth--one who bore the unmistakable emblems of the
Imperial army. In this brave and noble-looking personage Mian at once
saw her preserver, and not doubting that an inopportune and treacherous
death had overtaken him, she ran forward and raised him in her arms,
being well assured that however indiscreet such an action might appear
in the case of an ordinary person, the most select maiden need not
hesitate to perform so honourable a service in regard to one whose
virtues had by that time undoubtedly placed him among the Three Thousand
Pure Ones. Being disturbed in this providential manner, Ling opened his
eyes, and faintly murmuring, “Oh, sainted and adorable Koon Yam, Goddess
of Charity, intercede for me with Buddha!” he again lost possession of
himself in the Middle Air. At this remark, which plainly proved Ling to
be still alive, in spite of the fact that both the maiden and the person
himself had thoughts to the contrary, Mian found herself surrounded by
a variety of embarrassing circumstances, among which occurred a
remembrance of the dead magician and the wise person at Ki whom she had
set out to summon; but on considering the various natural and sublime
laws which bore directly on the alternative before her, she discovered
that her plain destiny was to endeavour to restore the breath in the
person who was still alive rather than engage on the very unsatisfactory
chance of attempting to call it back to the body from which it had so
long been absent.

Having been inspired to this conclusion--which, when she later examined
her mind, she found not to be repulsive to her own inner feelings--Mian
returned to the house with dexterous speed, and calling together the two
attendants, she endeavoured by means of signs and drawings to explain to
them what she desired to accomplish. Succeeding in this after some delay
(for the persons in question, being very illiterate and narrow-minded,
were unable at first to understand the existence of any recumbent male
person other than the dead magician, whom they thereupon commenced to
bury in the garden with expressions of great satisfaction at their
own intelligence in comprehending Mian’s meaning so readily) they all
journeyed to the wood, and bearing Ling between them, they carried him
to the house without further adventure.




CHAPTER VIII


It was in the month of Hot Dragon Breaths, many weeks after the fight in
the woods of Ki, that Ling again opened his eyes to find himself in an
unknown chamber, and to recognize in the one who visited him from time
to time the incomparable maiden whose life he had saved in the cypress
glade. Not a day had passed in the meanwhile on which Mian had neglected
to offer sacrifices to Chang-Chung, the deity interested in drugs and
healing substances, nor had she wavered in her firm resolve to bring
Ling back to an ordinary existence even when the attendants had
protested that the person in question might without impropriety be sent
to the Restoring Establishment of the Last Chance, so little did his
hope of recovering rest upon the efforts of living beings.

After he had beheld Mian’s face and understood the circumstances of his
escape and recovery, Ling quickly shook off the evil vapours which had
held him down so long, and presently he was able to walk slowly in the
courtyard and in the shady paths of the wood beyond, leaning upon Mian
for the support he still required.

“Oh, graceful one,” he said on such an occasion, when little stood
between him and the full powers which he had known before the battle,
“there is a matter which has been pressing upon this person’s mind for
some time past. It is as dark after light to let the thoughts dwell
around it, yet the thing itself must inevitably soon be regarded, for in
this life one’s actions are for ever regulated by conditions which are
neither of one’s own seeking nor within one’s power of controlling.”

At these words all brightness left Mian’s manner, for she at once
understood that Ling referred to his departure, of which she herself had
lately come to think with unrestrained agitation.

“Oh, Ling,” she exclaimed at length, “most expert of sword-users and
most noble of men, surely never was a maiden more inelegantly placed
than the one who is now by your side. To you she owes her life, yet it
is unseemly for her even to speak of the incident; to you she must
look for protection, yet she cannot ask you to stay by her side. She is
indeed alone. The magician is dead, Ki has fallen, Ling is going, and
Mian is undoubtedly the most unhappy and solitary person between the
Wall and the Nan Hai.”

“Beloved Mian,” exclaimed Ling, with inspiring vehemence, “and is not
the utterly unworthy person before you indebted to you in a double
measure that life is still within him? Is not the strength which now
promotes him to such exceptional audacity as to aspire to your
lovely hand, of your own creating? Only encourage Ling to entertain a
well-founded hope that on his return he shall not find you partaking
of the wedding feast of some wealthy and exceptionally round-bodied
Mandarin, and this person will accomplish the journey to Canton and back
as it were in four strides.”

“Oh, Ling, reflexion of my ideal, holder of my soul, it would indeed
be very disagreeable to my own feelings to make any reply save one,”
 replied Mian, scarcely above a breath-voice. “Gratitude alone would
direct me, were it not that the great love which fills me leaves no
resting-place for any other emotion than itself. Go if you must,
but return quickly, for your absence will weigh upon Mian like a
dragon-dream.”

“Violet light of my eyes,” exclaimed Ling, “even in surroundings which
with the exception of the matter before us are uninspiring in the
extreme, your virtuous and retiring encouragement yet raises me to such
a commanding eminence of demonstrative happiness that I fear I
shall become intolerably self-opinionated towards my fellow-men in
consequence.”

“Such a thing is impossible with my Ling,” said Mian, with conviction.
“But must you indeed journey to Canton?”

“Alas!” replied Ling, “gladly would this person decide against such
a course did the matter rest with him, for as the Verses say, ‘It
is needless to apply the ram’s head to the unlocked door.’ But Ki is
demolished, the unassuming Mandarin Li Keen has retired to Peking, and
of the fortunes of his bowmen this person is entirely ignorant.”

“Such as survived returned to their homes,” replied Mian, “and Si-chow
is safe, for the scattered and broken rebels fled to the mountains
again; so much this person has learned.”

“In that case Si-chow is undoubtedly safe for the time, and can be left
with prudence,” said Ling. “It is an unfortunate circumstance that there
is no Mandarin of authority between here and Canton who can receive from
this person a statement of past facts and give him instructions for the
future.”

“And what will be the nature of such instructions as will be given at
Canton?” demanded Mian.

“By chance they may take the form of raising another company of bowmen,”
 said Ling, with a sigh, “but, indeed, if this person can obtain any
weight by means of his past service, they will tend towards a pleasant
and unambitious civil appointment.”

“Oh, my artless and noble-minded lover!” exclaimed Mian, “assuredly a
veil has been before your eyes during your residence in Canton, and your
naturally benevolent mind has turned all things into good, or you would
not thus hopefully refer to your brilliant exploits in the past. Of what
commercial benefit have they been to the sordid and miserly persons
in authority, or in what way have they diverted a stream of taels into
their insatiable pockets? Far greater is the chance that had Si-chow
fallen many of its household goods would have found their way into the
Yamens of Canton. Assuredly in Li Keen you will have a friend who will
make many delicate allusions to your ancestors when you meet, and yet
one who will float many barbed whispers to follow you when you have
passed; for you have planted shame before him in the eyes of those who
would otherwise neither have eyes to see nor tongues to discuss the
matter. It is for such a reason that this person distrusts all things
connected with the journey, except your constancy, oh, my true and
strong one.”

“Such faithfulness would alone be sufficient to assure my safe return if
the matter were properly represented to the supreme Deities,” said Ling.
“Let not the thin curtain of bitter water stand before your lustrous
eyes any longer, then, the events which have followed one another in the
past few days in a fashion that can only be likened to thunder following
lightning are indeed sufficient to distress one with so refined and
swan-like an organization, but they are now assuredly at an end.”

“It is a hope of daily recurrence to this person,” replied Mian,
honourably endeavouring to restrain the emotion which openly exhibited
itself in her eyes; “for what maiden would not rather make successful
offerings to the Great Mother Kum-Fa than have the most imposing and
verbose Triumphal Arch erected to commemorate an empty and unsatisfying
constancy?”

In this amiable manner the matter was arranged between Ling and Mian, as
they sat together in the magician’s garden drinking peach-tea, which the
two attendants--not without discriminating and significant expressions
between themselves--brought to them from time to time. Here Ling made
clear the whole manner of his life from his earliest memory to the
time when he fell in dignified combat, nor did Mian withhold anything,
explaining in particular such charms and spells of the magician as she
had knowledge of, and in this graceful manner materially assisting her
lover in the many disagreeable encounters and conflicts which he was
shortly to experience.

It was with even more objectionable feelings than before that Ling now
contemplated his journey to Canton, involving as it did the separation
from one who had become as the shadow of his existence, and by whose
side he had an undoubted claim to stand. Yet the necessity of the
undertaking was no less than before, and the full possession of all his
natural powers took away his only excuse for delaying in the matter.
Without any pleasurable anticipations, therefore, he consulted the
Sacred Flat and Round Sticks, and learning that the following day would
be propitious for the journey, he arranged to set out in accordance with
the omen.

When the final moment arrived at which the invisible threads of
constantly passing emotions from one to the other must be broken, and
when Mian perceived that her lover’s horse was restrained at the door by
the two attendants, who with unsuspected delicacy of feeling had taken
this opportunity of withdrawing, the noble endurance which had hitherto
upheld her melted away, and she became involved in very melancholy
and obscure meditations until she observed that Ling also was quickly
becoming affected by a similar gloom.

“Alas!” she exclaimed, “how unworthy a person I am thus to impose upon
my lord a greater burden than that which already weighs him down! Rather
ought this one to dwell upon the happiness of that day, when, after
successfully evading or overthrowing the numerous bands of assassins
which infest the road from here to Canton, and after escaping or
recovering from the many deadly pestilences which invariably reduce that
city at this season of the year, he shall triumphantly return. Assuredly
there is a highly-polished surface united to every action in life,
no matter how funereal it may at first appear. Indeed, there are many
incidents compared with which death itself is welcome, and to this end
Mian has reserved a farewell gift.”

Speaking in this manner the devoted and magnanimous maiden placed in
Ling’s hands the transparent vessel of liquid which the magician had
grasped when he fell. “This person,” she continued, speaking with
difficulty, “places her lover’s welfare incomparably before her own
happiness, and should he ever find himself in a situation which is
unendurably oppressive, and from which death is the only escape--such
as inevitable tortures, the infliction of violent madness, or the
subjection by magic to the will of some designing woman--she begs him
to accept this means of freeing himself without regarding her anguish
beyond expressing a clearly defined last wish that the two persons in
question may be in the end happily reunited in another existence.”

Assured by this last evidence of affection, Ling felt that he had no
longer any reason for internal heaviness; his spirits were immeasurably
raised by the fragrant incense of Mian’s great devotion, and under its
influence he was even able to breathe towards her a few words of similar
comfort as he left the spot and began his journey.




CHAPTER IX


On entering Canton, which he successfully accomplished without any
unpleasant adventure, the marked absence of any dignified ostentation
which had been accountable for many of Ling’s misfortunes in the past,
impelled him again to reside in the same insignificant apartment that
he had occupied when he first visited the city as an unknown
and unimportant candidate. In consequence of this, when Ling was
communicating to any person the signs by which messengers might
find him, he was compelled to add, “the neighbourhood in which this
contemptible person resides is that officially known as ‘the mean
quarter favoured by the lower class of those who murder by treachery,’”
 and for this reason he was not always treated with the regard to which
his attainments entitled him, or which he would have unquestionably
received had he been able to describe himself as of “the partly-drained
and uninfected area reserved to Mandarins and their friends.”

It was with an ignoble feeling of mental distress that Ling exhibited
himself at the Chief Office of Warlike Deeds and Arrangements on the
following day; for the many disadvantageous incidents of his past life
had repeated themselves before his eyes while he slept, and the not
unhopeful emotions which he had felt when in the inspiring presence of
Mian were now altogether absent. In spite of the fact that he reached
the office during the early gong strokes of the morning, it was not
until the withdrawal of light that he reached any person who was in a
position to speak with him on the matter, so numerous were the lesser
ones through whose chambers he had to pass in the process. At length he
found himself in the presence of an upper one who had the appearance
of being acquainted with the circumstances, and who received him with
dignity, though not with any embarrassing exhibition of respect or
servility.

“‘The hero of the illustrious encounter beyond the walls of Si-chow,’”
 exclaimed that official, reading the words from the tablet of
introduction which Ling had caused to be carried into him, and at the
same time examining the person in question closely. “Indeed, no such one
is known to those within this office, unless the words chance to point
to the courteous and unassuming Mandarin Li Keen, who, however, is at
this moment recovering his health at Peking, as set forth in the amiable
and impartial report which we have lately received from him.”

At these words Ling plainly understood that there was little hope of the
last events becoming profitable on his account.

“Did not the report to which allusion has been made bear reference to
one Ling, Commander of the Archers, who thrice led on the fighting men,
and who was finally successful in causing the rebels to disperse towards
the mountains?” he asked, in a voice which somewhat trembled.

“There is certainly reference to one of the name you mention,” said
the other; “but regarding the terms--perhaps this person would better
protect his own estimable time by displaying the report within your
sight.”

With these words the upper one struck a gong several times, and after
receiving from an inner chamber the parchment in question, he placed
it before Ling, at the same time directing a lesser one to interpose
between it and the one who read it a large sheet of transparent
substance, so that destruction might not come to it, no matter in
what way its contents affected the reader. Thereon Ling perceived the
following facts, very skilfully inscribed with the evident purpose of
inducing persons to believe, without question, that words so elegantly
traced must of necessity be truthful also.

  A Benevolent Example of the Intelligent Arrangement by which the
  most Worthy Persons outlive those who are Incapable.

  The circumstances connected with the office of the valuable and
  accomplished Mandarin of Warlike Deeds and Arrangements at Si-chow
  have, in recent times, been of anything but a prepossessing order.
  Owing to the very inadequate methods adopted by those who earn a
  livelihood by conveying necessities from the more enlightened
  portions of the Empire to that place, it so came about that for a
  period of five days the Yamen was entirely unsupplied with the
  fins of sharks or even with goats’ eyes. To add to the polished
  Mandarin’s distress of mind the barbarous and slow-witted rebels
  who infest those parts took this opportunity to destroy the town
  and most of its inhabitants, the matter coming about as follows:

  The feeble and commonplace person named Ling who commands the
  bowmen had but recently been elevated to that distinguished
  position from a menial and degraded occupation (for which, indeed,
  his stunted intellect more aptly fitted him); and being in
  consequence very greatly puffed out in self-gratification, he
  became an easy prey to the cunning of the rebels, and allowed
  himself to be beguiled into a trap, paying for this contemptible
  stupidity with his life. The town of Si-chow was then attacked,
  and being in this manner left defenceless through the weakness--or
  treachery--of the person Ling, who had contrived to encompass the
  entire destruction of his unyielding company, it fell after a
  determined and irreproachable resistance; the Mandarin Li Keen
  being told, as, covered with the blood of the foemen, he was
  dragged away from the thickest part of the unequal conflict by his
  followers, that he was the last person to leave the town. On his
  way to Peking with news of this valiant defence, the Mandarin was
  joined by the Chief of Bowmen, who had understood and avoided the
  very obvious snare into which the stagnant-minded Commander had
  led his followers, in spite of disinterested advice to the
  contrary. For this intelligent perception, and for general
  nobility of conduct when in battle, the versatile Chief of Bowmen
  is by this written paper strongly recommended to the dignity of
  receiving the small metal Embellishment of Valour.

  It has been suggested to the Mandarin Li Keen that the bestowal of
  the Crystal Button would only be a fit and graceful reward for his
  indefatigable efforts to uphold the dignity of the sublime
  Emperor; but to all such persons the Mandarin has sternly replied
  that such a proposal would more fitly originate from the renowned
  and valuable Office of Warlike Deeds and Arrangements, he well
  knowing that the wise and engaging persons who conduct that
  indispensable and well-regulated department are gracefully
  voracious in their efforts to reward merit, even when it is
  displayed, as in the case in question, by one who from his
  position will inevitably soon be urgently petitioning in a like
  manner on their behalf.

When Ling had finished reading this elegantly arranged but exceedingly
misleading parchment, he looked up with eyes from which he vainly
endeavoured to restrain the signs of undignified emotion, and said to
the upper one:

“It is difficult employment for a person to refrain from unendurable
thoughts when his unassuming and really conscientious efforts are
represented in a spirit of no satisfaction, yet in this matter the very
expert Li Keen appears to have gone beyond himself; the Commander Ling,
who is herein represented as being slain by the enemy, is, indeed, the
person who is standing before you, and all the other statements are in a
like exactness.”

“The short-sighted individual who for some hidden desire of his own is
endeavouring to present himself as the corrupt and degraded creature
Ling, has overlooked one important circumstance,” said the upper one,
smiling in a very intolerable manner, at the same time causing his head
to move slightly from side to side in the fashion of one who rebukes
with assumed geniality; and, turning over the written paper, he
displayed upon the under side the Imperial vermilion Sign. “Perhaps,”
 he continued, “the omniscient person will still continue in his remarks,
even with the evidence of the Emperor’s unerring pencil to refute him.”

At these words and the undoubted testimony of the red mark, which
plainly declared the whole of the written matter to be composed of
truth, no matter what might afterwards transpire, Ling understood that
very little prosperity remained with him.

“But the town of Si-chow,” he suggested, after examining his mind; “if
any person in authority visited the place, he would inevitably find it
standing and its inhabitants in agreeable health.”

“The persistent person who is so assiduously occupying my intellectual
moments with empty words seems to be unaccountably deficient in his
knowledge of the customs of refined society and of the meaning of the
Imperial Signet,” said the other, with an entire absence of benevolent
consideration. “That Si-chow has fallen and that Ling is dead are two
utterly uncontroversial matters truthfully recorded. If a person visited
Si-chow, he might find it rebuilt or even inhabited by those from the
neighbouring villages or by evil spirits taking the forms of the ones
who formerly lived there; as in a like manner, Ling might be restored
to existence by magic, or his body might be found and possessed by
an outcast demon who desired to revisit the earth for a period. Such
circumstances do not in any way disturb the announcement that Si-chow
has without question fallen, and that Ling has officially ceased to
live, of which events notifications have been sent to all who are
concerned in the matters.”

As the upper one ceased speaking, four strokes sounded upon the gong,
and Ling immediately found himself carried into the street by the
current of both lesser and upper ones who poured forth at the signal.
The termination of this conversation left Ling in a more unenviable
state of dejection than any of the many preceding misfortunes had
done, for with enlarged inducements to possess himself of a competent
appointment he seemed to be even further removed from this attainment
than he had been at any time in his life. He might, indeed, present
himself again for the public examinations; but in order to do even that
it would be necessary for him to wait almost a year, nor could he assure
himself that his efforts would again be likely to result in an equal
success. Doubts also arose within his mind of the course which he should
follow in such a case; whether to adopt a new name, involving as it
would certain humiliation and perhaps disgrace if detection overtook
his footsteps, or still to possess the title of one who was in a measure
dead, and hazard the likelihood of having any prosperity which he might
obtain reduced to nothing if the fact should become public.

As Ling reflected upon such details he found himself without intention
before the house of a wise person who had become very wealthy by
advising others on all matters, but chiefly on those connected with
strange occurrences and such events as could not be settled definitely
either one way or the other until a remote period had been reached.
Becoming assailed by a curious desire to know what manner of evils
particularly attached themselves to such as were officially dead but who
nevertheless had an ordinary existence, Ling placed himself before this
person, and after arranging the manner of reward related to him so many
of the circumstances as were necessary to enable a full understanding to
be reached, but at the same time in no way betraying his own interest in
the matter.

“Such inflictions are to no degree frequent,” said the wise person after
he had consulted a polished sphere of the finest red jade for some
time; “and this is in a measure to be regretted, as the hair of these
persons--provided they die a violent death, which is invariably the
case--constitutes a certain protection against being struck by falling
stars, or becoming involved in unsuccessful law cases. The persons in
question can be recognized with certainty in the public ways by the
unnatural pallor of their faces and by the general repulsiveness of
their appearance, but as they soon take refuge in suicide, unless
they have the fortune to be removed previously by accident, it is an
infrequent matter that one is gratified by the sight. During their
existence they are subject to many disorders from which the generality
of human beings are benevolently preserved; they possess no rights
of any kind, and if by any chance they are detected in an act of a
seemingly depraved nature, they are liable to judgment at the hands of
the passers-by without any form whatever, and to punishment of a more
severe order than that administered to commonplace criminals. There
are many other disadvantages affecting such persons when they reach the
Middle Air, of which the chief--”

“This person is immeasurably indebted for such a clear explanation of
the position,” interrupted Ling, who had a feeling of not desiring
to penetrate further into the detail; “but as he perceives a line
of anxious ones eagerly waiting at the door to obtain advice and
consolation from so expert and amiable a wizard, he will not make
himself uncongenial any longer with his very feeble topics of
conversation.”

By this time Ling plainly comprehended that he had been marked out
from the beginning--perhaps for all the knowledge which he had to the
opposite effect, from a period in the life of a far-removed ancestor--to
be an object of marked derision and the victim of all manner of
malevolent demons in whatever actions he undertook. In this condition
of understanding his mind turned gratefully to the parting gift of Mian
whom he had now no hope of possessing; for the intolerable thought
of uniting her to so objectionable a being as himself would have been
dismissed as utterly inelegant even had he been in a manner of living
to provide for her adequately, which itself seemed clearly impossible.
Disregarding all similar emotions, therefore, he walked without pausing
to his abode, and stretching his body upon the rushes, drank the entire
liquid unhesitatingly, and prepared to pass beyond with a tranquil mind
entirely given up to thoughts and images of Mian.




CHAPTER X


Upon a certain occasion, the particulars of which have already been
recorded, Ling had judged himself to have passed into the form of a
spirit on beholding the ethereal form of Mian bending over him. After
swallowing the entire liquid, which had cost the dead magician so much
to distil and make perfect, it was with a well-assured determination of
never again awakening that he lost the outward senses and floated in the
Middle Air, so that when his eyes next opened upon what seemed to be
the bare walls of his own chamber, his first thought was a natural
conviction that the matter had been so arranged either out of a
charitable desire that he should not be overcome by a too sudden
transition to unparalleled splendour, or that such a reception was the
outcome of some dignified jest on the part of certain lesser and more
cheerful spirits. After waiting in one position for several hours,
however, and receiving no summons or manifestation of a celestial
nature, he began to doubt the qualities of the liquid, and applying
certain tests, he soon ascertained that he was still in the lower world
and unharmed. Nevertheless, this circumstance did not tend in any way
to depress his mind, for, doubtless owing to some hidden virtue of
the fluid, he felt an enjoyable emotion that he still lived; all his
attributes appeared to be purified, and he experienced an inspired
certainty of feeling that an illustrious and highly-remunerative future
lay before one who still had an ordinary existence after being both
officially killed and self-poisoned.

In this intelligent disposition thoughts of Mian recurred to him with
unreproved persistence, and in order to convey to her an account of the
various matters which had engaged him since his arrival at the city, and
a well-considered declaration of the unchanged state of his own feelings
towards her, he composed and despatched with impetuous haste the
following delicate verses:



CONSTANCY

  About the walls and gates of Canton
  Are many pleasing and entertaining maidens;
  Indeed, in the eyes of their friends and of the passers-by
  Some of them are exceptionally adorable.
  The person who is inscribing these lines, however,
  Sees before him, as it were, an assemblage of deformed and un-prepossessing hags,
  Venerable in age and inconsiderable in appearance;
  For the dignified and majestic image of Mian is ever before him,
  Making all others very inferior.

  Within the houses and streets of Canton
  Hang many bright lanterns.
  The ordinary person who has occasion to walk by night
  Professes to find them highly lustrous.
  But there is one who thinks contrary facts,
  And when he goes forth he carries two long curved poles
  To prevent him from stumbling among the dark and hidden places;
  For he has gazed into the brilliant and pellucid orbs of Mian,
  And all other lights are dull and practically opaque.

  In various parts of the literary quarter of Canton
  Reside such as spend their time in inward contemplation.
  In spite of their generally uninviting exteriors
  Their reflexions are often of a very profound order.
  Yet the unpopular and persistently-abused Ling
  Would unhesitatingly prefer his own thoughts to theirs,
  For what makes this person’s thoughts far more pleasing
  Is that they are invariably connected with the virtuous and ornamental Mian.

Becoming very amiably disposed after this agreeable occupation, Ling
surveyed himself at the disc of polished metal, and observed with
surprise and shame the rough and uninviting condition of his person. He
had, indeed, although it was not until some time later that he became
aware of the circumstance, slept for five days without interruption, and
it need not therefore be a matter of wonder or of reproach to him that
his smooth surfaces had become covered with short hair. Reviling himself
bitterly for the appearance which he conceived he must have exhibited
when he conducted his business, and to which he now in part attributed
his ill-success, Ling went forth without delay, and quickly discovering
one of those who remove hair publicly for a very small sum, he placed
himself in the chair, and directed that his face, arms, and legs should
be denuded after the manner affected by the ones who make a practice of
observing the most recent customs.

“Did the illustrious individual who is now conferring distinction on
this really worn-out chair by occupying it express himself in favour of
having the face entirely denuded?” demanded the one who conducted the
operation; for these persons have become famous for their elegant and
persistent ability to discourse, and frequently assume ignorance in
order that they themselves may make reply, and not for the purpose
of gaining knowledge. “Now, in the objectionable opinion of this
unintelligent person, who has a presumptuous habit of offering his
very undesirable advice, a slight covering on the upper lip, delicately
arranged and somewhat fiercely pointed at the extremities, would
bestow an appearance of--how shall this illiterate person explain
himself?--dignity?--matured reflexion?--doubtless the accomplished
nobleman before me will understand what is intended with a more
knife-like accuracy than this person can describe it--but confer that
highly desirable effect upon the face of which at present it is entirely
destitute... ‘Entirely denuded?’ Then without fail it shall certainly be
so, O incomparable personage... Does the versatile Mandarin now present
profess any concern as to the condition of the rice plants?... Indeed,
the remark is an inspired one; the subject is totally devoid of interest
to a person of intelligence ... A remarkable and gravity-removing event
transpired within the notice of this unassuming person recently. A
discriminating individual had purchased from him a portion of his justly
renowned Thrice-extracted Essence of Celestial Herb Oil--a preparation
which in this experienced person’s opinion, indeed, would greatly
relieve the undoubted afflictions from which the one before him is
evidently suffering--when after once anointing himself--”

A lengthy period containing no words caused Ling, who had in the
meantime closed his eyes and lost Canton and all else in delicate
thoughts of Mian, to look up. That which met his attention on doing so
filled him with an intelligent wonder, for the person before him held in
his hand what had the appearance of a tuft of bright yellow hair, which
shone in the light of the sun with a most engaging splendour, but which
he nevertheless regarded with a most undignified expression of confusion
and awe.

“Illustrious demon,” he cried at length, kow-towing very respectfully,
“have the extreme amiableness to be of a benevolent disposition, and do
not take an unworthy and entirely unremunerative revenge upon this
very unimportant person for failing to detect and honour you from the
beginning.”

“Such words indicate nothing beyond an excess of hemp spirit,” answered
Ling, with signs of displeasure. “To gain my explicit esteem, make me
smooth without delay, and do not exhibit before me the lock of hair
which, from its colour and appearance, has evidently adorned the head of
one of those maidens whose duty it is to quench the thirst of travellers
in the long narrow rooms of this city.”

“Majestic and anonymous spirit,” said the other, with extreme reverence,
and an entire absence of the appearance of one who had gazed into
too many vessels, “if such be your plainly-expressed desire, this
superficial person will at once proceed to make smooth your peach-like
skin, and with a carefulness inspired by the certainty that the most
unimportant wound would give forth liquid fire, in which he would
undoubtedly perish. Nevertheless, he desires to make it evident that
this hair is from the head of no maiden, being, indeed, the uneven
termination of your own sacred pigtail, which this excessively
self-confident slave took the inexcusable liberty of removing, and which
changed in this manner within his hand in order to administer a fit
reproof for his intolerable presumption.”

Impressed by the mien and unquestionable earnestness of the remover of
hair, Ling took the matter which had occasioned these various emotions
in his hand and examined it. His amazement was still greater when he
perceived that--in spite of the fact that it presented every appearance
of having been cut from his own person--none of the qualities of hair
remained in it; it was hard and wire-like, possessing, indeed, both the
nature and the appearance of a metal.

As he gazed fixedly and with astonishment, there came back into
the remembrance of Ling certain obscure and little-understood facts
connected with the limitless wealth possessed by the Yellow Emperor--of
which the great gold life-like image in the Temple of Internal Symmetry
at Peking alone bears witness now--and of his lost secret. Many very
forcible prophecies and omens in his own earlier life, of which
the rendering and accomplishment had hitherto seemed to be dark and
incomplete, passed before him, and various matters which Mian had
related to him concerning the habits and speech of the magician took
definite form within his mind. Deeply impressed by the exact manner in
which all these circumstances fitted together, one into another, Ling
rewarded the person before him greatly beyond his expectation, and
hurried without delay to his own chamber.




CHAPTER XI


For many hours Ling remained in his room, examining in his mind all
passages, either in his own life or in the lives of others, which might
by any chance have influence on the event before him. In this thorough
way he became assured that the competition and its results, his journey
to Si-chow with the encounter in the cypress wood, the flight of the
incapable and treacherous Mandarin, and the battle of Ki, were all,
down to the matter of the smallest detail, parts of a symmetrical and
complete scheme, tending to his present condition. Cheered and upheld
by this proof of the fact that very able deities were at work on
his behalf, he turned his intellect from the entrancing subject to a
contemplation of the manner in which his condition would enable him to
frustrate the uninventive villainies of the obstinate person Li Keen,
and to provide a suitable house and mode of living to which he would be
justified in introducing Mian, after adequate marriage ceremonies had
been observed between them. In this endeavour he was less successful
than he had imagined would be the case, for when he had first fully
understood that his body was of such a substance that nothing was
wanting to transmute it into fine gold but the absence of the living
spirit, he had naturally, and without deeply examining the detail,
assumed that so much gold might be considered to be in his possession.
Now, however, a very definite thought arose within him that his own
wishes and interests would have been better secured had the benevolent
spirits who undertook the matter placed the secret within his knowledge
in such a way as to enable him to administer the fluid to some very
heavy and inexpensive animal, so that the issue which seemed inevitable
before the enjoyment of the riches could be entered upon should not
have touched his own comfort so closely. To a person of Ling’s refined
imagination it could not fail to be a subject of internal reproach that
while he would become the most precious dead body in the world, his
value in life might not be very honourably placed even by the most
complimentary one who should require his services. Then came the
thought, which, however degraded, he found himself unable to put quite
beyond him, that if in the meantime he were able to gain a sufficiency
for Mian and himself, even her pure and delicate love might not be able
to bear so offensive a test as that of seeing him grow old and remain
intolerably healthy--perhaps with advancing years actually becoming
lighter day by day, and thereby lessening in value before her eyes--when
the natural infirmities of age and the presence of an ever-increasing
posterity would make even a moderate amount of taels of inestimable
value.

No doubt remained in Ling’s mind that the process of frequently making
smooth his surfaces would yield an amount of gold enough to suffice for
his own needs, but a brief consideration of the matter convinced him
that this source would be inadequate to maintain an entire household
even if he continually denuded himself to an almost ignominious extent.
As he fully weighed these varying chances the certainty became more
clear to him with every thought that for the virtuous enjoyment of
Mian’s society one great sacrifice was required of him. This act, it
seemed to be intimated, would without delay provide for an affluent
and lengthy future, and at the same time would influence all the
spirits--even those who had been hitherto evilly-disposed towards
him--in such a manner that his enemies would be removed from his path
by a process which would expose them to public ridicule, and he would be
assured in founding an illustrious and enduring line. To accomplish this
successfully necessitated the loss of at least the greater part of one
entire member, and for some time the disadvantages of going through an
existence with only a single leg or arm seemed more than a sufficient
price to pay even for the definite advantages which would be made
over to him in return. This unworthy thought, however, could not long
withstand the memory of Mian’s steadfast and high-minded affection,
and the certainty of her enlightened gladness at his return even in the
imperfect condition which he anticipated. Nor was there absent from his
mind a dimly-understood hope that the matter did not finally rest with
him, but that everything which he might be inspired to do was in reality
only a portion of the complete and arranged system into which he had
been drawn, and in which his part had been assigned to him from the
beginning without power for him to deviate, no matter how much to the
contrary the thing should appear.

As no advantage would be gained by making any delay, Ling at once sought
the most favourable means of putting his resolution into practice, and
after many skilful and insidious inquiries he learnt of an accomplished
person who made a consistent habit of cutting off limbs which had become
troublesome to their possessors either through accident or disease.
Furthermore, he was said to be of a sincere and charitable disposition,
and many persons declared that on no occasion had he been known to
make use of the helpless condition of those who visited him in order to
extort money from them.

Coming to the ill-considered conclusion that he would be able to conceal
within his own breast the true reason for the operation, Ling placed
himself before the person in question, and exhibited the matter to
him so that it would appear as though his desires were promoted by the
presence of a small but persistent sprite which had taken its abode
within his left thigh, and there resisted every effort of the most
experienced wise persons to induce it to come forth again. Satisfied
with this explanation of the necessity of the deed, the one who
undertook the matter proceeded, with Ling’s assistance, to sharpen his
cutting instruments and to heat the hardening irons; but no sooner had
he made a shallow mark to indicate the lines which his knife should
take, than his subtle observation at once showed him that the facts had
been represented to him in a wrong sense, and that his visitor, indeed,
was composed of no common substance. Being of a gentle and forbearing
disposition, he did not manifest any indication of rage at the
discovery, but amiably and unassumingly pointed out that such a course
was not respectful towards himself, and that, moreover, Ling might incur
certain well-defined and highly undesirable maladies as a punishment for
the deception.

Overcome with remorse at deceiving so courteous and noble-minded
a person, Ling fully explained the circumstances to him, not even
concealing from him certain facts which related to the actions of remote
ancestors, but which, nevertheless, appeared to have influenced the
succession of events. When he had made an end of the narrative, the
other said:

“Behold now, it is truly remarked that every Mandarin has three hands
and every soldier a like number of feet, yet it is a saying which is
rather to be regarded as manifesting the deep wisdom and discrimination
of the speaker than as an actual fact which can be taken advantage of
when one is so minded--least of all by so valiant a Commander as the one
before me, who has clearly proved that in time of battle he has exactly
reversed the position.”

“The loss would undoubtedly be of considerable inconvenience
occasionally,” admitted Ling, “yet none the less the sage remark of Huai
Mei-shan, ‘When actually in the embrace of a voracious and powerful
wild animal, the desirability of leaving a limb is not a matter to be
subjected to lengthy consideration,’ is undoubtedly a valuable guide for
general conduct. This person has endured many misfortunes and suffered
many injustices; he has known the wolf-gnawings of great hopes, which
have withered and daily grown less when the difficulties of maintaining
an honourable and illustrious career have unfolded themselves within his
sight. Before him still lie the attractions of a moderate competency to
be shared with the one whose absence would make even the Upper Region
unendurable, and after having this entrancing future once shattered
by the tiger-like cupidity of a depraved and incapable Mandarin, he is
determined to welcome even the sacrifice which you condemn rather than
let the opportunity vanish through indecision.”

“It is not an unworthy or abandoned decision,” said the one whose aid
Ling had invoked, “nor a matter in which this person would refrain from
taking part, were there no other and more agreeable means by which the
same results may be attained. A circumstance has occurred within
this superficial person’s mind, however: A brother of the one who
is addressing you is by profession one of those who purchase large
undertakings for which they have not the money to pay, and who thereupon
by various expedients gain the ear of the thrifty, enticing them by fair
offers of return to entrust their savings for the purpose of paying off
the debt. These persons are ever on the watch for transactions by which
they inevitably prosper without incurring any obligation, and doubtless
my brother will be able to gather a just share of the value of your
highly-remunerative body without submitting you to the insufferable
annoyance of losing a great part of it prematurely.”

Without clearly understanding how so inviting an arrangement could be
effected, the manner of speaking was exceedingly alluring to Ling’s
mind, perplexed as he had become through weighing and considering
the various attitudes of the entire matter. To receive a certain and
sufficient sum of money without his person being in any way mutilated
would be a satisfactory, but as far as he had been able to observe an
unapproachable, solution to the difficulty. In the mind of the amiable
person with whom he was conversing, however, the accomplishment did not
appear to be surrounded by unnatural obstacles, so that Ling was content
to leave the entire design in his hands, after stating that he would
again present himself on a certain occasion when it was asserted that
the brother in question would be present.

So internally lightened did Ling feel after this inspiring conversation,
and so confident of a speedy success had the obliging person’s words
made him become, that for the first time since his return to Canton he
was able to take an intellectual interest in the pleasures of the city.
Becoming aware that the celebrated play entitled “The Precious Lamp
of Spotted Butterfly Temple” was in process of being shown at the Tea
Garden of Rainbow Lights and Voices, he purchased an entrance, and after
passing several hours in this conscientious enjoyment, returned to
his chamber, and passed a night untroubled by any manifestations of an
unpleasant nature.




CHAPTER XII


Chang-ch’un, the brother of the one to whom Ling had applied in his
determination, was confidently stated to be one of the richest persons
in Canton. So great was the number of enterprises in which he had
possessions, that he himself was unable to keep an account of them,
and it was asserted that upon occasions he had run through the streets,
crying aloud that such an undertaking had been the subject of most
inferior and uninviting dreams and omens (a custom observed by those who
wish a venture ill), whereas upon returning and consulting his written
parchments, it became plain to him that he had indulged in a very
objectionable exhibition, as he himself was the person most interested
in the success of the matter. Far from discouraging him, however, such
incidents tended to his advantage, as he could consistently point to
them in proof of his unquestionable commercial honourableness, and in
this way many persons of all classes, not only in Canton, or in the
Province, but all over the Empire, would unhesitatingly entrust money
to be placed in undertakings which he had purchased and was willing to
describe as “of much good.” A certain class of printed leaves--those in
which Chang-ch’un did not insert purchased mentions of his forthcoming
ventures or verses recording his virtues (in return for buying many
examples of the printed leaf containing them)--took frequent occasion of
reminding persons that Chang-ch’un owed the beginning of his prosperity
to finding a written parchment connected with a Mandarin of exalted rank
and a low caste attendant at the Ti-i tea-house among the paper
heaps, which it was at that time his occupation to assort into various
departments according to their quality and commercial value. Such
printed leaves freely and unhesitatingly predicted that the day on which
he would publicly lose face was incomparably nearer than that on which
the Imperial army would receive its back pay, and in a quaint and
gravity-removing manner advised him to protect himself against an
obscure but inevitable poverty by learning the accomplishment of
chair-carrying--an occupation for which his talents and achievements
fitted him in a high degree, they remarked.

In spite of these evilly intentioned remarks, and of illustrations
representing him as being bowstrung for treacherous killing, being
seized in the action of secretly conveying money from passers-by to
himself and other similar annoying references to his private life,
Chang-ch’un did not fail to prosper, and his undertakings succeeded to
such an extent that without inquiry into the detail many persons were
content to describe as “gold-lined” anything to which he affixed his
sign, and to hazard their savings for staking upon the ventures. In all
other departments of life Chang was equally successful; his chief wife
was the daughter of one who stood high in the Emperor’s favour; his
repast table was never unsupplied with sea-snails, rats’ tongues,
or delicacies of an equally expensive nature, and it was confidently
maintained that there was no official in Canton, not even putting aside
the Taotai, who dare neglect to fondle Chang’s hand if he publicly
offered it to him for that purpose.

It was at the most illustrious point of his existence--at the time,
indeed, when after purchasing without money the renowned and proficient
charm-water Ho-Ko for a million taels, he had sold it again for
ten--that Chang was informed by his brother of the circumstances
connected with Ling. After becoming specially assured that the matter
was indeed such as it was represented to be, Chang at once discerned
that the venture was of too certain and profitable a nature to be put
before those who entrusted their money to him in ordinary and doubtful
cases. He accordingly called together certain persons whom he was
desirous of obliging, and informing them privately and apart
from business terms that the opportunity was one of exceptional
attractiveness, he placed the facts before them. After displaying a
number of diagrams bearing upon the matter, he proposed that they should
form an enterprise to be called “The Ling (After Death) Without Much
Risk Assembly.” The manner of conducting this undertaking he explained
to be as follows: The body of Ling, whenever the spirit left it, should
become as theirs to be used for profit. For this benefit they would pay
Ling fifty thousand taels when the understanding was definitely arrived
at, five thousand taels each year until the matter ended, and when that
period arrived another fifty thousand taels to persons depending upon
him during his life. Having stated the figure business, Chang-ch’un
put down his written papers, and causing his face to assume the look of
irrepressible but dignified satisfaction which it was his custom to wear
on most occasions, and especially when he had what appeared at first
sight to be evil news to communicate to public assemblages of those
who had entrusted money to his ventures, he proceeded to disclose the
advantages of such a system. At the extreme, he said, the amount which
they would be required to pay would be two hundred and fifty
thousand taels; but this was in reality a very misleading view of the
circumstance, as he would endeavour to show them. For one detail, he had
allotted to Ling thirty years of existence, which was the extreme amount
according to the calculations of those skilled in such prophecies; but,
as they were all undoubtedly aware, persons of very expert intellects
were known to enjoy a much shorter period of life than the gross and
ordinary, and as Ling was clearly one of the former, by the fact of his
contriving so ingenious a method of enriching himself, they might with
reasonable foresight rely upon his departing when half the period had
been attained; in that way seventy-five thousand taels would be restored
to them, for every year represented a saving of five thousand. Another
agreeable contemplation was that of the last sum, for by such a time
they would have arrived at the most pleasurable part of the enterprise:
a million taels’ worth of pure gold would be displayed before them, and
the question of the final fifty thousand could be disposed of by cutting
off an arm or half a leg. Whether they adopted that course, or decided
to increase their fortunes by exposing so exceptional and symmetrical a
wonder to the public gaze in all the principal cities of the Empire, was
a circumstance which would have to be examined within their minds when
the time approached. In such a way the detail of purchase stood
revealed as only fifty thousand taels in reality, a sum so despicably
insignificant that he had internal pains at mentioning it to so wealthy
a group of Mandarins, and he had not yet made clear to them that each
year they would receive gold to the amount of almost a thousand taels.
This would be the result of Ling making smooth his surfaces, and it
would enable them to know that the person in question actually existed,
and to keep the circumstances before their intellects.

When Chang-Ch’un had made the various facts clear to this extent, those
who were assembled expressed their feelings as favourably turned towards
the project, provided the tests to which Ling was to be put should prove
encouraging, and a secure and intelligent understanding of things to be
done and not to be done could be arrived at between them. To this end
Ling was brought into the chamber, and fixing his thoughts steadfastly
upon Mian, he permitted portions to be cut from various parts of his
body without betraying any signs of ignoble agitation. No sooner had
the pieces been separated and the virtue of Ling’s existence passed from
them than they changed colour and hardened, nor could the most delicate
and searching trials to which they were exposed by a skilful worker
in metals, who was obtained for the purpose, disclose any particular,
however minute, in which they differed from the finest gold. The hair,
the nails, and the teeth were similarly affected, and even Ling’s
blood dried into a fine gold powder. This detail of the trial being
successfully completed, Ling subjected himself to intricate questioning
on all matters connected with his religion and manner of conducting
himself, both in public and privately, the history and behaviour of his
ancestors, the various omens and remarkable sayings which had reference
to his life and destiny, and the intentions which he then possessed
regarding his future movements and habits of living. All the wise
sayings and written and printed leaves which made any allusion to the
existence of and possibility of discovery of the wonderful gold fluid
were closely examined, and found to be in agreement, whereupon those
present made no further delay in admitting that the facts were indeed
as they had been described, and indulged in a dignified stroking of
each other’s faces as an expression of pleasure and in proof of their
satisfaction at taking part in so entrancing and remunerative an affair.
At Chang’s command many rare and expensive wines were then brought
in, and partaken of without restraint by all persons, the repast being
lightened by numerous well-considered and gravity-removing jests having
reference to Ling and the unusual composition of his person. So amiably
were the hours occupied that it was past the time of no light when Chang
rose and read at full length the statement of things to be done and
things not to be done, which was to be sealed by Ling for his part and
the other persons who were present for theirs. It so happened, however,
that at that period Ling’s mind was filled with brilliant and versatile
thoughts and images of Mian, and many-hued visions of the manner in
which they would spend the entrancing future which was now before them,
and in this way it chanced that he did not give any portion of his
intellect to the reading, mistaking it, indeed, for a delicate and very
ably-composed set of verses which Chang-ch’un was reciting as a formal
blessing on parting. Nor was it until he was desired to affix his
sign that Ling discovered his mistake, and being of too respectful and
unobtrusive a disposition to require the matter to be repeated then, he
carried out the obligation without in any particular understanding the
written words to which he was agreeing.

As Ling walked through the streets to his chamber after leaving the
house and company of Chang-Ch’un, holding firmly among his garments the
thin printed papers to the amount of fifty thousand taels which he had
received, and repeatedly speaking to himself in terms of general and
specific encouragement at the fortunate events of the past few days, he
became aware that a person of mean and rapacious appearance, whom he
had some memory of having observed within the residence he had but
just left, was continually by his side. Not at first doubting that
the circumstance resulted from a benevolent desire on the part of
Chang-ch’un that he should be protected on his passage through the city,
Ling affected not to observe the incident; but upon reaching his own
door the person in question persistently endeavoured to pass in also.
Forming a fresh judgment about the matter, Ling, who was very powerfully
constructed, and whose natural instincts were enhanced in every degree
by the potent fluid of which he had lately partaken, repeatedly threw
him across the street until he became weary of the diversion. At
length, however, the thought arose that one who patiently submitted
to continually striking the opposite houses with his head must have
something of importance to communicate, whereupon he courteously invited
him to enter the apartment and unweigh his mind.

“The facts of the case appear to have been somewhat inadequately
represented,” said the stranger, bowing obsequiously, “for this
unornamental person was assured by the benignant Chang-ch’un that the
one whose shadow he was to become was of a mild and forbearing nature.”

“Such words are as the conversation of birds to me,” replied Ling, not
conjecturing how the matter had fallen about. “This person has just left
the presence of the elegant and successful Chang-ch’un, and no word that
he spoke gave indication of such a follower or such a service.”

“Then it is indeed certain that the various transactions have not been
fully understood,” exclaimed the other, “for the exact communication to
this unseemly one was, ‘The valuable and enlightened Ling has heard and
agreed to the different things to be done and not to be done, one
phrase of which arranges for your continual presence, so that he will
anticipate your attentions.’”

At these words the truth became as daylight before Ling’s eyes, and
he perceived that the written paper to which he had affixed his sign
contained the detail of such an office as that of the person before him.
When too late, more than ever did he regret that he had not formed some
pretext for causing the document to be read a second time, as in view of
his immediate intentions such an arrangement as the one to which he had
agreed had every appearance of becoming of an irksome and perplexing
nature. Desiring to know the length of the attendant’s commands, Ling
asked him for a clear statement of his duties, feigning that he had
missed that portion of the reading through a momentary attack of the
giddy sickness. To this request the stranger, who explained that his
name was Wang, instantly replied that his written and spoken orders
were: never to permit more than an arm’s length of space to separate
them; to prevent, by whatever force was necessary for the purpose, all
attempts at evading the things to be done and not to be done, and to
ignore as of no interest all other circumstances. It seemed to Ling,
in consequence, that little seclusion would be enjoyed unless an
arrangement could be effected between Wang and himself; so to this end,
after noticing the evident poverty and covetousness of the person in
question, he made him an honourable offer of frequent rewards, provided
a greater distance was allowed to come between them as soon as Si-chow
was reached. On his side, Ling undertook not to break through the
wording of the things to be done and not to be done, and to notify to
Wang any movements upon which he meditated. In this reputable manner
the obstacle was ingeniously removed, and the intelligent nature of the
device was clearly proved by the fact that not only Ling but Wang also
had in the future a much greater liberty of action than would have
been possible if it had been necessary to observe the short-sighted and
evidently hastily-thought-of condition which Chang-ch’un had endeavoured
to impose.




CHAPTER XIII


In spite of his natural desire to return to Mian as quickly as possible,
Ling judged it expedient to give several days to the occupation of
purchasing apparel of the richest kinds, weapons and armour in large
quantities, jewels and ornaments of worked metals and other objects to
indicate his changed position. Nor did he neglect actions of a pious
and charitable nature, for almost his first care was to arrange with the
chief ones at the Temple of Benevolent Intentions that each year, on the
day corresponding to that on which he drank the gold fluid, a sumptuous
and well-constructed coffin should be presented to the most deserving
poor and aged person within that quarter of the city in which he had
resided. When these preparations were completed, Ling set out with an
extensive train of attendants; but riding on before, accompanied only by
Wang, he quickly reached Si-chow without adventure.

The meeting between Ling and Mian was affecting to such an extent
that the blind and deaf attendants wept openly without reproach,
notwithstanding the fact that neither could become possessed of more
than a half of the occurrence. Eagerly the two reunited ones examined
each other’s features to discover whether the separation had brought
about any change in the beloved and well-remembered lines. Ling
discovered upon Mian the shadow of an anxious care at his absence, while
the disappointments and trials which Ling had experienced in Canton had
left traces which were plainly visible to Mian’s penetrating gaze. In
such an entrancing occupation the time was to them without hours until
a feeling of hunger recalled them to lesser matters, when a variety
of very select foods and liquids was placed before them without delay.
After this elegant repast had been partaken of, Mian, supporting herself
upon Ling’s shoulder, made a request that he would disclose to her all
the matters which had come under his observation both within the city
and during his journey to and from that place. Upon this encouragement,
Ling proceeded to unfold his mind, not withholding anything which
appeared to be of interest, no matter how slight. When he had reached
Canton without any perilous adventure, Mian breathed more freely; as he
recorded the interview at the Office of Warlike Deeds and Arrangements,
she trembled at the insidious malignity of the evil person Li Keen. The
conversation with the wise reader of the future concerning the various
states of such as be officially dead almost threw her into the rigid
sickness, from which, however, the wonderful circumstance of the
discovered properties of the gold fluid quickly recalled her. But to
Ling’s great astonishment no sooner had he made plain the exceptional
advantages which he had derived from the circumstances, and the nature
of the undertaking at which he had arrived with Chang-ch’un, than she
became a prey to the most intolerable and unrestrained anguish.

“Oh, my devoted but excessively ill-advised lover,” she exclaimed
wildly, and in tones which clearly indicated that she was inspired by
every variety of affectionate emotion, “has the unendurable position
in which you and all your household will be placed by the degrading
commercial schemes and instincts of the mercenary-souled person
Chang-ch’un occupied no place in your generally well-regulated
intellect? Inevitably will those who drink our almond tea, in order
to have an opportunity of judging the value of the appointments of the
house, pass the jesting remark that while the Lings assuredly have ‘a
dead person’s bones in the secret chamber,’ at the present they will not
have one in the family graveyard by reason of the death of Ling himself.
Better to lose a thousand limbs during life than the entire person after
death; nor would your adoring Mian hesitate to clasp proudly to her
organ of affection the veriest trunk that had parted with all its
attributes in a noble and sacrificing endeavour to preserve at least
some dignified proportions to embellish the Ancestral Temple and to
receive the worship of posterity.”

“Alas!” replied Ling, with extravagant humiliation, “it is indeed true;
and this person is degraded beyond the common lot of those who break
images and commit thefts from sacred places. The side of the transaction
which is at present engaging our attention never occurred to this
superficial individual until now.”

“Wise and incomparable one,” said Mian, in no degree able to restrain
the fountains of bitter water which clouded her delicate and expressive
eyes, “in spite of this person’s biting and ungracious words do not, she
makes a formal petition, doubt the deathless strength of her affection.
Cheerfully, in order to avert the matter in question, or even to save
her lover the anguish of unavailing and soul-eating remorse, would she
consign herself to a badly-constructed and slow-consuming fire or expose
her body to various undignified tortures. Happy are those even to whom
is left a little ash to be placed in a precious urn and diligently
guarded, for it, in any event, truly represents all that is left of the
once living person, whereas after an honourable and spotless existence
my illustrious but unthinking lord will be blended with a variety of
baser substances and passed from hand to hand, his immaculate organs
serving to reward murderers for their deeds and to tempt the weak and
vicious to all manner of unmentionable crimes.”

So overcome was Ling by the distressing nature of the oversight he had
permitted that he could find no words with which to comfort Mian, who,
after some moments, continued:

“There are even worse visions of degradation which occur to this person.
By chance, that which was once the noble-minded Ling may be disposed of,
not to the Imperial Treasury for converting into pieces of exchange, but
to some undiscriminating worker in metals who will fashion out of his
beautiful and symmetrical stomach an elegant food-dish, so that from the
ultimate developments of the circumstance may arise the fact that his
own descendants, instead of worshipping him, use his internal organs
for this doubtful if not absolutely unclean purpose, and thereby suffer
numerous well-merited afflictions, to the end that the finally-despised
Ling and this discredited person, instead of founding a vigorous and
prolific generation, become the parents of a line of feeble-minded and
physically-depressed lepers.”

“Oh, my peacock-eyed one!” exclaimed Ling, in immeasurable distress, “so
proficient an exhibition of virtuous grief crushes this misguided person
completely to the ground. Rather would he uncomplainingly lose his
pigtail than--”

“Such a course,” said a discordant voice, as the unpresentable person
Wang stepped forth from behind a hanging curtain, where, indeed, he had
stood concealed during the entire conversation, “is especially forbidden
by the twenty-third detail of the things to be done and not to be done.”

“What new adversity is this?” cried Mian, pressing to Ling with a still
closer embrace. “Having disposed of your incomparable body after death,
surely an adequate amount of liberty and seclusion remains to us during
life.”

“Nevertheless,” interposed the dog-like Wang, “the refined person in
question must not attempt to lose or to dispose of his striking and
invaluable pigtail; for by such an action he would be breaking through
his spoken and written word whereby he undertook to be ruled by the
things to be done and not to be done; and he would also be robbing the
ingenious-minded Chang-ch’un.”

“Alas!” lamented the unhappy Ling, “that which appeared to be the end of
all this person’s troubles is obviously simply the commencement of a new
and more extensive variety. Understand, O conscientious but exceedingly
inopportune Wang, that the words which passed from this person’s mouth
did not indicate a fixed determination, but merely served to show the
unfeigned depth of his emotion. Be content that he has no intention of
evading the definite principles of the things to be done and not to
be done, and in the meantime honour this commonplace establishment by
retiring to the hot and ill-ventilated chamber, and there partaking of a
suitable repast which shall be prepared without delay.”

When Wang had departed, which he did with somewhat unseemly haste,
Ling made an end of recording his narrative, which Mian’s grief had
interrupted. In this way he explained to her the reason of Wang’s
presence, and assured her that by reason of the arrangement he had made
with that person, his near existence would not be so unsupportable to
them as might at first appear to be the case.

While they were still conversing together, and endeavouring to divert
their minds from the objectionable facts which had recently come within
their notice, an attendant entered and disclosed that the train of
servants and merchandise which Ling had preceded on the journey was
arriving. At this fresh example of her lover’s consistent thought
for her, Mian almost forgot her recent agitation, and eagerly lending
herself to the entrancing occupation of unfolding and displaying the
various objects, her brow finally lost the last trace of sadness.
Greatly beyond the imaginings of anticipation were the expensive
articles with which Ling proudly surrounded her; and in examining and
learning the cost of the set jewels and worked metals, the ornamental
garments for both persons, the wood and paper appointments for the
house--even incenses, perfumes, spices and rare viands had not been
forgotten--the day was quickly and profitably spent.

When the hour of sunset arrived, Ling, having learned that certain
preparations which he had commanded were fully carried out, took Mian by
the hand and led her into the chief apartment of the house, where were
assembled all the followers and attendants, even down to the illiterate
and superfluous Wang. In the centre of the room upon a table of the
finest ebony stood a vessel of burning incense, some dishes of the most
highly-esteemed fruit, and an abundance of old and very sweet wine.
Before these emblems Ling and Mian placed themselves in an attitude of
deep humiliation, and formally expressed their gratitude to the Chief
Deity for having called them into existence, to the cultivated earth
for supplying them with the means of sustaining life, to the Emperor for
providing the numerous safeguards by which their persons were protected
at all times, and to their parents for educating them. This adequate
ceremony being completed, Ling explicitly desired all those present to
observe the fact that the two persons in question were, by that fact and
from that time, made as one being, and the bond between them, incapable
of severance.

When the ruling night-lantern came out from among the clouds, Ling and
Mian became possessed of a great desire to go forth with pressed hands
and look again on the forest paths and glades in which they had spent
many hours of exceptional happiness before Ling’s journey to Canton.
Leaving the attendants to continue the feasting and drum-beating in a
completely unrestrained manner, they therefore passed out unperceived,
and wandering among the trees, presently stood on the banks of the
Heng-Kiang.

“Oh, my beloved!” exclaimed Mian, gazing at the brilliant and unruffled
water, “greatly would this person esteem a short river journey, such as
we often enjoyed together in the days when you were recovering.”

Ling, to whom the expressed desires of Mian were as the word of the
Emperor, instantly prepared the small and ornamental junk which was
fastened near for this purpose, and was about to step in, when a
presumptuous and highly objectionable hand restrained him.

“Behold,” remarked a voice which Ling had some difficulty in ascribing
to any known person, so greatly had it changed from its usual tone,
“behold how the immature and altogether too-inferior Ling observes his
spoken and written assertions!”

At this low-conditioned speech, Ling drew his well-tempered sword
without further thought, in spite of the restraining arms of Mian,
but at the sight of the utterly incapable person Wang, who stood near
smiling meaninglessly and waving his arms with a continuous and backward
motion, he again replaced it.

“Such remarks can be left to fall unheeded from the lips of one who
bears every indication of being steeped in rice spirit,” he said with
unprovoked dignity.

“It will be the plain duty of this expert and uncorruptible person
to furnish the unnecessary, but, nevertheless, very severe and
self-opinionated Chang-ch’un with a written account of how the
traitorous and deceptive Ling has endeavoured to break through the
thirty-fourth vessel of the liquids to be consumed and not to be
consumed,” continued Wang with increased deliberation and an entire
absence of attention to Ling’s action and speech, “and how by this
refined person’s unfailing civility and resourceful strategy he has been
frustrated.”

“Perchance,” said Ling, after examining his thoughts for a short space,
and reflecting that the list of things to be done and not to be done was
to him as a blank leaf, “there may even be some small portion of that
which is accurate in his statement. In what manner,” he continued,
addressing the really unendurable person, who was by this time preparing
to pass the night in the cool swamp by the river’s edge, “does this
one endanger any detail of the written and sealed parchment by such an
action?”

“Inasmuch,” replied Wang, pausing in the process of removing his
outer garments, “as the seventy-ninth--the intricate name given
to it escapes this person’s tongue at the moment--but the
ninety-seventh--experLingknowswhamean--provides that any person, with or
without, attempting or not avoiding to travel by sea, lake, or river,
or to place himself in such a position as he may reasonably and
intelligently be drowned in salt water, fresh water, or--or honourable
rice spirit, shall be guilty of, and suffer--complete loss of memory.”
 With these words the immoderate and contemptible person sank down in a
very profound slumber.

“Alas!” said Ling, turning to Mian, who stood near, unable to retire
even had she desired, by reason of the extreme agitation into which
the incident had thrown her delicate mind and body, “how intensely
aggravating a circumstance that we are compelled to entertain so
dissolute a one by reason of this person’s preoccupation when the matter
was read. Nevertheless, it is not unlikely that the detail he spoke of
was such as he insisted, to the extent of making it a thing not to be
done to journey in any manner by water. It shall be an early endeavour
of this person to get these restraining details equitably amended; but
in the meantime we will retrace our footsteps through the wood, and
the enraptured Ling will make a well-thought-out attempt to lighten the
passage by a recital of his recently-composed verses on the subject of
‘Exile from the Loved One; or, Farewell and Return.’”




CHAPTER XIV


“My beloved lord!” said Mian sadly, on a morning after many days had
passed since the return of Ling, “have you not every possession for
which the heart of a wise person searches? Yet the dark mark is scarcely
ever absent from your symmetrical brow. If she who stands before you,
and is henceforth an integral part of your organization, has failed you
in any particular, no matter how unimportant, explain the matter to her,
and the amendment will be a speedy and a joyful task.”

It was indeed true that Ling’s mind was troubled, but the fault did not
lie with Mian, as the person in question was fully aware, for before
her eyes as before those of Ling the unevadable compact which had been
entered into with Chang-ch’un was ever present, insidiously planting
bitterness within even the most select and accomplished delights. Nor
with increasing time did the obstinate and intrusive person Wang become
more dignified in his behaviour; on the contrary, he freely made use of
his position to indulge in every variety of abandonment, and almost each
day he prevented, by reason of his knowledge of the things to be done
and not to be done, some refined and permissible entertainment
upon which Ling and Mian had determined. Ling had despatched many
communications upon this subject to Chang-ch’un, praying also that
some expert way out of the annoyance of the lesser and more unimportant
things not to be done should be arrived at, but the time when he might
reasonably expect an answer to these written papers had not yet arrived.

It was about this period that intelligence was brought to Ling from the
villages on the road to Peking, how Li Keen, having secretly ascertained
that his Yamen was standing and his goods uninjured, had determined
to return, and was indeed at that hour within a hundred li of Si-chow.
Furthermore, he had repeatedly been understood to pronounce clearly
that he considered Ling to be the head and beginning of all his
inconveniences, and to declare that the first act of justice which
he should accomplish on his return would be to submit the person in
question to the most unbearable tortures, and then cause him to lose his
head publicly as an outrager of the settled state of things and an
enemy of those who loved tranquillity. Not doubting that Li Keen would
endeavour to gain an advantage by treachery if the chance presented
itself, Ling determined to go forth to meet him, and without delay
settle the entire disturbance in one well-chosen and fatally-destructive
encounter. To this end, rather than disturb the placid mind of Mian,
to whom the thought of the engagement would be weighted with many
disquieting fears, he gave out that he was going upon an expedition
to surprise and capture certain fish of a very delicate flavour, and
attended by only two persons, he set forth in the early part of the day.

Some hours later, owing to an ill-considered remark on the part of the
deaf attendant, to whom the matter had been explained in an imperfect
light, Mian became possessed of the true facts of the case, and
immediately all the pleasure of existence went from her. She despaired
of ever again beholding Ling in an ordinary state, and mournfully
reproached herself for the bitter words which had risen to her lips when
the circumstance of his condition and the arrangement with Chang-ch’un
first became known to her. After spending an interval in a polished
lament at the manner in which things were inevitably tending, the
thought occurred to Mian whether by any means in her power she could
influence the course and settled method of affairs. In this situation
the memory of the person Wang, and the fact that on several occasions he
had made himself objectionable when Ling had proposed to place himself
in such a position that he incurred some very remote chance of death
by drowning or by fire, recurred to her. Subduing the natural and
pure-minded repulsion which she invariably experienced at the mere
thought of so debased an individual, she sought for him, and discovering
him in the act of constructing cardboard figures of men and animals,
which it was his custom to dispose skilfully in little-frequented paths
for the purpose of enjoying the sudden terror of those who passed by,
she quickly put the matter before him, urging him, by some means, to
prevent the encounter, which must assuredly cost the life of the one
whom he had so often previously obstructed from incurring the slightest
risk.

“By no means,” exclaimed Wang, when he at length understood the full
meaning of the project; “it would be a most unpresentable action for
this commonplace person to interfere in so honourable an undertaking.
Had the priceless body of the intrepid Ling been in any danger of
disappearing, as, for example, by drowning or being consumed in fire,
the nature of the circumstance would have been different. As the
matter exists, however, there is every appearance that the far-seeing
Chang-ch’un will soon reap the deserved reward of his somewhat
speculative enterprise, and to that end this person will immediately
procure a wooden barrier and the services of four robust carriers, and
proceed to the scene of the conflict.”

Deprived of even this hope of preventing the encounter, Mian betook
herself in extreme dejection to the secret room of the magician, which
had been unopened since the day when the two attendants had searched for
substances to apply to their master, and there she diligently examined
every object in the remote chance of discovering something which might
prove of value in averting the matter in question.

Not anticipating that the true reason of his journey would become known
to Mian, Ling continued on his way without haste, and passing through
Si-chow before the sun had risen, entered upon the great road to Peking.
At a convenient distance from the town he came to a favourable piece of
ground where he decided to await the arrival of Li Keen, spending the
time profitably in polishing his already brilliant sword, and making
observations upon the nature of the spot and the condition of the
surrounding omens, on which the success of his expedition would largely
depend.

As the sun reached the highest point in the open sky the sound of an
approaching company could be plainly heard; but at the moment when the
chair of the Mandarin appeared within the sight of those who waited, the
great luminary, upon which all portents depend directly or indirectly,
changed to the colour of new-drawn blood and began to sink towards
the earth. Without any misgivings, therefore, Ling disposed his two
attendants in the wood, with instructions to step forth and aid him if
he should be attacked by overwhelming numbers, while he himself remained
in the way. As the chair approached, the Mandarin observed a person
standing alone, and thinking that it was one who, hearing of his return,
had come out of the town to honour him, he commanded the bearers to
pause. Thereupon, stepping up to the opening, Ling struck the deceptive
and incapable Li Keen on the cheek, at the same time crying in a full
voice, “Come forth, O traitorous and two-stomached Mandarin! for this
person is very desirous of assisting you in the fulfilment of your
boastful words. Here is a most irreproachable sword which will serve
excellently to cut off this person’s undignified head; here is a
waistcord which can be tightened around his breast, thereby producing
excruciating pains over the entire body.”

At the knowledge of who the one before him was, and when he heard the
words which unhesitatingly announced Ling’s fixed purpose, Li Keen first
urged the carriers to fall upon Ling and slay him, and then, perceiving
that such a course was exceedingly distasteful to their natural
tendencies, to take up the chair and save him by flight. But Ling in
the meantime engaged their attention, and fully explained to them the
treacherous and unworthy conduct of Li Keen, showing them how his death
would be a just retribution for his ill-spent life, and promising them
each a considerable reward in addition to their arranged payment when
the matter in question had been accomplished. Becoming convinced of the
justice of Ling’s cause, they turned upon Li Keen, insisting that he
should at once attempt to carry out the ill-judged threats against Ling,
of which they were consistent witnesses, and announcing that, if he
failed to do so, they would certainly bear him themselves to a not far
distant well of stagnant water, and there gain the approbation of the
good spirits by freeing the land of so unnatural a monster.

Seeing only a dishonourable death on either side, Li Keen drew his
sword, and made use of every artifice of which he had knowledge in
order to disarm Ling or to take him at a disadvantage. In this he was
unsuccessful, for Ling, who was by nature a very expert sword-user,
struck him repeatedly, until he at length fell in an expiring condition,
remarking with his last words that he had indeed been a narrow-minded
and extortionate person during his life, and that his death was an
enlightened act of celestial accuracy.

Directing Wang and his four hired persons, who had in the meantime
arrived, to give the body of the Mandarin an honourable burial in the
deep of the wood, Ling rewarded and dismissed the chairbearers, and
without delay proceeded to Si-chow, where he charitably distributed the
goods and possessions of Li Keen among the poor of the town. Having
in this able and conscientious manner completely proved the misleading
nature of the disgraceful statements which the Mandarin had spread
abroad concerning him, Ling turned his footsteps towards Mian, whose
entrancing joy at his safe return was judged by both persons to be a
sufficient reward for the mental distress with which their separation
had been accompanied.




CHAPTER XV


After the departure of Ling from Canton, the commercial affairs of
Chang-ch’un began, from a secret and undetectable cause, to assume an
ill-regulated condition. No venture which he undertook maintained a
profitable attitude, so that many persons who in former times had been
content to display the printed papers setting forth his name and
virtues in an easily-seen position in their receiving-rooms, now placed
themselves daily before his house in order to accuse him of using their
taels in ways which they themselves had not sufficiently understood, and
for the purpose of warning passers-by against his inducements. It was
in vain that Chang proposed new undertakings, each of an infallibly
more prosperous nature than those before; the persons who had hitherto
supported him were all entrusting their money to one named Pung Soo, who
required millions where Chang had been content with thousands, and who
persistently insisted on greeting the sacred Emperor as an equal.

In this unenviable state Chang’s mind continually returned to thoughts
of Ling, whose lifeless body would so opportunely serve to dispel the
embarrassing perplexities of existence which were settling thickly about
him. Urged forward by a variety of circumstances which placed him in
an entirely different spirit from the honourable bearing which he had
formerly maintained, he now closely examined all the papers connected
with the matter, to discover whether he might not be able to effect his
purpose with an outward exhibition of law forms. While engaged in this
degrading occupation, a detail came to his notice which caused him to
become very amiably disposed and confident of success. Proceeding with
the matter, he caused a well-supported report to be spread about that
Ling was suffering from a wasting sickness, which, without in any
measure shortening his life, would cause him to return to the size and
weight of a newly-born child, and being by these means enabled to secure
the entire matter of “The Ling (After Death) Without Much Risk Assembly”
 at a very small outlay, he did so, and then, calling together a company
of those who hire themselves out for purposes of violence, journeyed to
Si-chow.

Ling and Mian were seated together at a table in the great room,
examining a vessel of some clear liquid, when Chang-ch’un entered with
his armed ones, in direct opposition to the general laws of ordinary
conduct and the rulings of hospitality. At the sight, which plainly
indicated a threatened display of violence, Ling seized his renowned
sword, which was never far distant from him, and prepared to carry out
his spoken vow, that any person overstepping a certain mark on the floor
would assuredly fall.

“Put away your undoubtedly competent weapon, O Ling,” said Chang, who
was desirous that the matter should be arranged if possible without any
loss to himself, “for such a course can be honourably adopted when it
is taken into consideration that we are as twenty to one, and have,
moreover, the appearance of being inspired by law forms.”

“There are certain matters of allowed justice which over-rule all
other law forms,” replied Ling, taking a surer hold of his sword-grasp.
“Explain, for your part, O obviously double-dealing Chang-ch’un, from
whom this person only recently parted on terms of equality and courtesy,
why you come not with an agreeable face and a peaceful following,
but with a countenance which indicates both violence and terror, and
accompanied by many whom this person recognizes as the most outcast and
degraded from the narrow and evil-smelling ways of Canton?”

“In spite of your blustering words,” said Chang, with some attempt at an
exhibition of dignity, “this person is endowed by every right, and
comes only for the obtaining, by the help of this expert and proficient
gathering, should such a length become necessary, of his just claims.
Understand that in the time since the venture was arranged this person
has become possessed of all the property of ‘The Ling (After Death)
Without Much Risk Assembly,’ and thereby he is competent to act fully
in the matter. It has now come within his attention that the one Ling
to whom the particulars refer is officially dead, and as the written
and sealed document clearly undertook that the person’s body was to be
delivered up for whatever use the Assembly decided whenever death should
possess it, this person has now come for the honourable carrying out of
the undertaking.”

At these words the true nature of the hidden contrivance into which he
had fallen descended upon Ling like a heavy and unavoidable thunderbolt.
Nevertheless, being by nature and by reason of his late exploits
fearless of death, except for the sake of the loved one by his side, he
betrayed no sign of discreditable emotion at the discovery.

“In such a case,” he replied, with an appearance of entirely
disregarding the danger of the position, “the complete parchment must be
of necessity overthrown; for if this person is now officially dead, he
was equally so at the time of sealing, and arrangements entered into by
dead persons have no actual existence.”

“That is a matter which has never been efficiently decided,” admitted
Chang-ch’un, with no appearance of being thrown into a state of
confusion at the suggestion, “and doubtless the case in question can by
various means be brought in the end before the Court of Final Settlement
at Peking, where it may indeed be judged in the manner you assert. But
as such a process must infallibly consume the wealth of a province and
the years of an ordinary lifetime, and as it is this person’s unmoved
intention to carry out his own view of the undertaking without delay,
such speculations are not matters of profound interest.”

Upon this Chang gave certain instructions to his followers, who
thereupon prepared to advance. Perceiving that the last detail of the
affair had been arrived at, Ling threw back his hanging garment, and
was on the point of rushing forward to meet them, when Mian, who had
maintained a possessed and reliant attitude throughout, pushed towards
him the vessel of pure and sparkling liquid with which they had been
engaged when so presumptuously broken in upon, at the same time speaking
to him certain words in an outside language. A new and Heaven-sent
confidence immediately took possession of Ling, and striking his sword
against the wall with such irresistible force that the entire chamber
trembled and the feeble-minded assassins shrank back in unrestrained
terror, he leapt upon the table, grasping in one hand the open vessel.

“Behold the end, O most uninventive and slow-witted Chang-ch’un!” he
cried in a dreadful and awe-compelling voice. “As a reward for your
faithless and traitorous behaviour, learn how such avaricious-minded
incompetence turns and fastens itself upon the vitals of those who beget
it. In spite of many things which were not of a graceful nature
towards him, this person has unassumingly maintained his part of the
undertaking, and would have followed such a course conscientiously to
the last. As it is, when he has made an end of speaking, the body
which you are already covetously estimating in taels will in no way
be distinguishable from that of the meanest and most ordinary maker of
commercial ventures in Canton. For, behold! the fluid which he holds in
his hand, and which it is his fixed intention to drain to the last drop,
is in truth nothing but a secret and exceedingly powerful counteractor
against the virtues of the gold drug; and though but a single particle
passed his lips, and the swords of your brilliant and versatile
murderers met the next moment in his breast, the body which fell at your
feet would be meet for worms rather than for the melting-pot.”

It was indeed such a substance as Ling represented it to be, Mian
having discovered it during her very systematic examination of the dead
magician’s inner room. Its composition and distillation had involved
that self-opinionated person in many years of arduous toil, for with a
somewhat unintelligent lack of foresight he had obstinately determined
to perfect the antidote before he turned his attention to the drug
itself. Had the matter been more ingeniously arranged, he would
undoubtedly have enjoyed an earlier triumph and an affluent and
respected old age.

At Ling’s earnest words and prepared attitude an instant conviction of
the truth of his assertions took possession of Chang. Therefore, seeing
nothing but immediate and unevadable ruin at the next step, he called
out in a loud and imploring voice that he should desist, and no harm
would come upon him. To this Ling consented, first insisting that the
followers should be dismissed without delay, and Chang alone remain to
have conversation on the matter. By this just act the lower parts of
Canton were greatly purified, for the persons in question being driven
forth into the woods, mostly perished by encounters with wild animals,
or at the hands of the enraged villagers, to whom Ling had by this time
become greatly endeared.

When the usual state had been restored, Ling made clear to Chang the
altered nature of the conditions to which he would alone agree. “It is
a noble-minded and magnanimous proposal on your part, and one to which
this misguided person had no claim,” admitted Chang, as he affixed his
seal to the written undertaking and committed the former parchment to
be consumed by fire. By this arrangement it was agreed that Ling should
receive only one-half of the yearly payment which had formerly been
promised, and that no sum of taels should become due to those depending
on him at his death. In return for these valuable allowances, there were
to exist no details of things to be done and not to be done, Ling merely
giving an honourable promise to observe the matter in a just spirit,
while--most esteemed of all--only a portion of his body was to pass to
Chang when the end arrived, the upper part remaining to embellish the
family altar and receive the veneration of posterity.

                  *       *       *       *       *

As the great sky-lantern rose above the trees and the time of no-noise
fell upon the woods, a flower-laden pleasure-junk moved away from its
restraining cords, and, without any sense of motion, gently bore Ling
and Mian between the sweet-smelling banks of the Heng-Kiang. Presently
Mian drew from beneath her flowing garment an instrument of stringed
wood, and touching it with a quick but delicate stroke, like the flight
and pausing of a butterfly, told in well-balanced words a refined
narrative of two illustrious and noble-looking persons, and how, after
many disagreeable evils and unendurable separations, they entered upon a
destined state of earthly prosperity and celestial favour. When she made
an end of the verses, Ling turned the junk’s head by one well-directed
stroke of the paddle, and prepared by using similar means to return to
the place of mooring.

“Indeed,” he remarked, ceasing for a moment to continue this skilful
occupation, “the words which you have just spoken might, without
injustice, be applied to the two persons who are now conversing
together. For after suffering misfortunes and wrongs beyond an
appropriate portion, they have now reached that period of existence when
a tranquil and contemplative future is assured to them. In this manner
is the sage and matured utterance of the inspired philosopher Nien-tsu
again proved: that the life of every person is largely composed of two
varieties of circumstances which together build up his existence--the
Good and the Evil.”

                     THE END OF THE STORY OF LING




CHAPTER XVI


When Kai Lung, the story-teller, made an end of speaking, he was
immediately greeted with a variety of delicate and pleasing remarks, all
persons who had witnessed the matter, down even to the lowest type of
Miaotze, who by reason of their obscure circumstances had been unable to
understand the meaning of a word that had been spoken, maintaining
that Kai Lung’s accomplishment of continuing for upwards of three hours
without a pause had afforded an entertainment of a very high and refined
order. While these polished sayings were being composed, together with
many others of a similar nature, Lin Yi suddenly leapt to his feet with
a variety of highly objectionable remarks concerning the ancestors of
all those who were present, and declaring that the story of Ling
was merely a well-considered stratagem to cause them to forget the
expedition which they had determined upon, for by that time it should
have been completely carried out. It was undoubtedly a fact that the
hour spoken of for the undertaking had long passed, Lin Yi having
completely overlooked the speed of time in his benevolent anxiety that
the polite and valorous Ling should in the end attain to a high and
remunerative destiny.

In spite of Kai Lung’s consistent denials of any treachery, he could not
but be aware that the incident tended greatly to his disadvantage in
the eyes of those whom he had fixed a desire to conciliate, nor did
his well-intentioned offer that he would without hesitation repeat the
display for a like number of hours effect his amiable purpose. How the
complication would finally have been determined without interruption is
a matter merely of imagination, for at that moment an outpost, who had
been engaged in guarding the secrecy of the expedition, threw himself
into the enclosure in a torn and breathless condition, having run
through the forest many li in a winding direction for the explicit
purpose of warning Lin Yi that his intentions had become known, and that
he and his followers would undoubtedly be surprised and overcome if they
left the camp.

At this intimation of the eminent service which Kai Lung had rendered
them, the nature of their faces towards him at once changed completely,
those who only a moment before had been demanding his death particularly
hailing him as their inspired and unobtrusive protector, and in all
probability, indeed, a virtuous and benignant spirit in disguise.

Bending under the weight of offerings which Lin Yi and his followers
pressed upon him, together with many clearly set out desires for his
future prosperity, and assured of their unalterable protection on all
future occasions, Kai Lung again turned his face towards the lanterns
of Knei Yang. Far down the side of the mountain they followed his
footsteps, now by a rolling stone, now by a snapping branch of yellow
pine. Once again they heard his voice, cheerfully repeating to himself;
“Among the highest virtues of a pure existence--” But beyond that point
the gentle forest breath bore him away.




II.
THE STORY OF YUNG CHANG


  Narrated by Kai Lung, in the open space of the tea-shop of The
  Celestial Principles, at Wu-whei.

“Ho, illustrious passers-by!” said Kai Lung, the story-teller, as he
spread out his embroidered mat under the mulberry-tree. “It is indeed
unlikely that you would condescend to stop and listen to the foolish
words of such an insignificant and altogether deformed person as myself.
Nevertheless, if you will but retard your elegant footsteps for a few
moments, this exceedingly unprepossessing individual will endeavour
to entertain you with the recital of the adventures of the noble Yung
Chang, as recorded by the celebrated Pe-ku-hi.”

Thus adjured, the more leisurely-minded drew near to hear the history
of Yung Chang. There was Sing You the fruit-seller, and Li Ton-ti the
wood-carver; Hi Seng left his clients to cry in vain for water; and Wang
Yu, the idle pipe-maker, closed his shop of “The Fountain of Beauty,”
 and hung on the shutter the gilt dragon to keep away customers in his
absence. These, together with a few more shopkeepers and a dozen or so
loafers, constituted a respectable audience by the time Kai Lung was
ready.

“It would be more seemly if this ill-conditioned person who is now
addressing such a distinguished assembly were to reward his fine and
noble-looking hearers for their trouble,” apologized the story-teller.
“But, as the Book of Verses says, ‘The meaner the slave, the greater the
lord’; and it is, therefore, not unlikely that this majestic concourse
will reward the despicable efforts of their servant by handfuls of coins
till the air appears as though filled with swarms of locusts in the
season of much heat. In particular, there is among this august crowd
of Mandarins one Wang Yu, who has departed on three previous occasions
without bestowing the reward of a single cash. If the feeble and
covetous-minded Wang Yu will place within this very ordinary bowl the
price of one of his exceedingly ill-made pipes, this unworthy person
will proceed.”

“Vast chasms can be filled, but the heart of man never,” quoted the
pipe-maker in retort. “Oh, most incapable of story-tellers, have you
not on two separate occasions slept beneath my utterly inadequate roof
without payment?”

But he, nevertheless, deposited three cash in the bowl, and drew nearer
among the front row of the listeners.

“It was during the reign of the enlightened Emperor Tsing Nung,” began
Kai Lung, without further introduction, “that there lived at a village
near Honan a wealthy and avaricious maker of idols, named Ti Hung. So
skilful had he become in the making of clay idols that his fame had
spread for many li round, and idol-sellers from all the neighbouring
villages, and even from the towns, came to him for their stock. No other
idol-maker between Honan and Nanking employed so many clay-gatherers or
so many modellers; yet, with all his riches, his avarice increased till
at length he employed men whom he called ‘agents’ and ‘travellers,’ who
went from house to house selling his idols and extolling his virtues in
verses composed by the most illustrious poets of the day. He did this
in order that he might turn into his own pocket the full price of the
idols, grudging those who would otherwise have sold them the few cash
which they would make. Owing to this he had many enemies, and his army
of travellers made him still more; for they were more rapacious than
the scorpion, and more obstinate than the ox. Indeed, there is still the
proverb, ‘With honey it is possible to soften the heart of the he-goat;
but a blow from an iron cleaver is taken as a mark of welcome by an
agent of Ti Hung.’ So that people barred the doors at their approach,
and even hung out signs of death and mourning.

“Now, among all his travellers there was none more successful, more
abandoned, and more valuable to Ti Hung than Li Ting. So depraved was
Li Ting that he was never known to visit the tombs of his ancestors;
indeed, it was said that he had been heard to mock their venerable
memories, and that he had jestingly offered to sell them to anyone who
should chance to be without ancestors of his own. This objectionable
person would call at the houses of the most illustrious Mandarins, and
would command the slaves to carry to their masters his tablets, on which
were inscribed his name and his virtues. Reaching their presence, he
would salute them with the greeting of an equal, ‘How is your stomach?’
and then proceed to exhibit samples of his wares, greatly overrating
their value. ‘Behold!’ he would exclaim, ‘is not this elegantly-moulded
idol worthy of the place of honour in this sumptuous mansion which my
presence defiles to such an extent that twelve basins of rose-water
will not remove the stain? Are not its eyes more delicate than the most
select of almonds? and is not its stomach rounder than the cupolas upon
the high temple at Peking? Yet, in spite of its perfections, it is not
worthy of the acceptance of so distinguished a Mandarin, and therefore
I will accept in return the quarter-tael, which, indeed, is less than my
illustrious master gives for the clay alone.’

“In this manner Li Ting disposed of many idols at high rates, and
thereby endeared himself so much to the avaricious heart of Ti Hung that
he promised him his beautiful daughter Ning in marriage.

“Ning was indeed very lovely. Her eyelashes were like the finest willow
twigs that grow in the marshes by the Yang-tse-Kiang; her cheeks were
fairer than poppies; and when she bathed in the Hoang Ho, her body
seemed transparent. Her brow was finer than the most polished jade;
while she seemed to walk, like a winged bird, without weight, her hair
floating in a cloud. Indeed, she was the most beautiful creature that
has ever existed.”

“Now may you grow thin and shrivel up like a fallen lemon; but it is
false!” cried Wang Yu, starting up suddenly and unexpectedly. “At
Chee Chou, at the shop of ‘The Heaven-sent Sugar-cane,’ there lives a
beautiful and virtuous girl who is more than all that. Her eyes are like
the inside circles on the peacock’s feathers; her teeth are finer than
the scales on the Sacred Dragon; her--”

“If it is the wish of this illustriously-endowed gathering that this
exceedingly illiterate paper tiger should occupy their august moments
with a description of the deformities of the very ordinary young person
at Chee Chou,” said Kai Lung imperturbably, “then the remainder of the
history of the noble-minded Yung Chang can remain until an evil fate has
overtaken Wang Yu, as it assuredly will shortly.”

“A fair wind raises no storm,” said Wang Yu sulkily; and Kai Lung
continued:

“Such loveliness could not escape the evil eye of Li Ting, and
accordingly, as he grew in favour with Ti Hung, he obtained his consent
to the drawing up of the marriage contracts. More than this, he had
already sent to Ning two bracelets of the finest gold, tied together
with a scarlet thread, as a betrothal present. But, as the proverb
says, ‘The good bee will not touch the faded flower,’ and Ning, although
compelled by the second of the Five Great Principles to respect her
father, was unable to regard the marriage with anything but abhorrence.
Perhaps this was not altogether the fault of Li Ting, for on the evening
of the day on which she had received his present, she walked in the
rice fields, and sitting down at the foot of a funereal cypress, whose
highest branches pierced the Middle Air, she cried aloud:

“‘I cannot control my bitterness. Of what use is it that I should be
called the “White Pigeon among Golden Lilies,” if my beauty is but for
the hog-like eyes of the exceedingly objectionable Li Ting? Ah, Yung
Chang, my unfortunate lover! what evil spirit pursues you that you
cannot pass your examination for the second degree? My noble-minded but
ambitious boy, why were you not content with an agricultural or even a
manufacturing career and happiness? By aspiring to a literary degree,
you have placed a barrier wider than the Whang Hai between us.’

“‘As the earth seems small to the soaring swallow, so shall insuperable
obstacles be overcome by the heart worn smooth with a fixed purpose,’
said a voice beside her, and Yung Chang stepped from behind the cypress
tree, where he had been waiting for Ning. ‘O one more symmetrical than
the chrysanthemum,’ he continued, ‘I shall yet, with the aid of my
ancestors, pass the second degree, and even obtain a position of high
trust in the public office at Peking.’

“‘And in the meantime,’ pouted Ning, ‘I shall have partaken of the
wedding-cake of the utterly unpresentable Li Ting.’ And she exhibited
the bracelets which she had that day received.

“‘Alas!’ said Yung Chang, ‘there are times when one is tempted to doubt
even the most efficacious and violent means. I had hoped that by this
time Li Ting would have come to a sudden and most unseemly end; for I
have drawn up and affixed in the most conspicuous places notifications
of his character, similar to the one here.’

“Ning turned, and beheld fastened to the trunk of the cypress an
exceedingly elegantly written and composed notice, which Yung read to
her as follows:

             “‘BEWARE OF INCURRING DEATH FROM STARVATION

  “‘Let the distinguished inhabitants of this district observe the
  exceedingly ungraceful walk and bearing of the low person who
  calls himself Li Ting. Truthfully, it is that of a dog in the act
  of being dragged to the river because his sores and diseases
  render him objectionable in the house of his master. So will this
  hunchbacked person be dragged to the place of execution, and be
  bowstrung, to the great relief of all who respect the five senses;
  A Respectful Physiognomy, Passionless Reflexion, Soft Speech,
  Acute Hearing, Piercing Sight.

  “‘He hopes to attain to the Red Button and the Peacock’s Feather;
  but the right hand of the Deity itches, and Li Ting will assuredly
  be removed suddenly.’

“‘Li Ting must certainly be in league with the evil forces if he can
withstand so powerful a weapon,’ said Ning admiringly, when her lover
had finished reading. ‘Even now he is starting on a journey, nor will he
return till the first day of the month when the sparrows go to the sea
and are changed into oysters. Perhaps the fate will overtake him while
he is away. If not--’

“‘If not,’ said Yung, taking up her words as she paused, ‘then I have
yet another hope. A moment ago you were regretting my choice of a
literary career. Learn, then, the value of knowledge. By its aid
(assisted, indeed, by the spirits of my ancestors) I have discovered a
new and strange thing, for which I can find no word. By using this new
system of reckoning, your illustrious but exceedingly narrow-minded and
miserly father would be able to make five taels where he now makes one.
Would he not, in consideration for this, consent to receive me as a
son-in-law, and dismiss the inelegant and unworthy Li Ting?’

“‘In the unlikely event of your being able to convince my illustrious
parent of what you say, it would assuredly be so,’ replied Ning. ‘But
in what way could you do so? My sublime and charitable father already
employs all the means in his power to reap the full reward of his sacred
industry. His “solid house-hold gods” are in reality mere shells of
clay; higher-priced images are correspondingly constructed, and his clay
gatherers and modellers are all paid on a “profit-sharing system.”
 Nay, further, it is beyond likelihood that he should wish for more
purchasers, for so great is his fame that those who come to buy have
sometimes to wait for days in consequence of those before them; for my
exceedingly methodical sire entrusts none with the receiving of money,
and the exchanges are therefore made slowly. Frequently an unnaturally
devout person will require as many as a hundred idols, and so the
greater part of the day will be passed.’

“‘In what way?’ inquired Yung tremulously.

“‘Why, in order that the countings may not get mixed, of course; it is
necessary that when he has paid for one idol he should carry it to a
place aside, and then return and pay for the second, carrying it to the
first, and in such a manner to the end. In this way the sun sinks behind
the mountains.’

“‘But,’ said Yung, his voice thick with his great discovery, ‘if he
could pay for the entire quantity at once, then it would take but a
hundredth part of the time, and so more idols could be sold.’

“‘How could this be done?’ inquired Ning wonderingly. ‘Surely it is
impossible to conjecture the value of so many idols.’

“‘To the unlearned it would indeed be impossible,’ replied Yung proudly,
‘but by the aid of my literary researches I have been enabled to
discover a process by which such results would be not a matter of
conjecture, but of certainty. These figures I have committed to tablets,
which I am prepared to give to your mercenary and slow-witted father
in return for your incomparable hand, a share of the profits, and the
dismissal of the uninventive and morally threadbare Li Ting.’

“‘When the earth-worm boasts of his elegant wings, the eagle can afford
to be silent,’ said a harsh voice behind them; and turning hastily they
beheld Li Ting, who had come upon them unawares. ‘Oh, most insignificant
of table-spoilers,’ he continued, ‘it is very evident that much
over-study has softened your usually well-educated brains. Were it
not that you are obviously mentally afflicted, I should unhesitatingly
persuade my beautiful and refined sword to introduce you to the spirits
of your ignoble ancestors. As it is, I will merely cut off your nose and
your left ear, so that people may not say that the Dragon of the Earth
sleeps and wickedness goes unpunished.’

“Both had already drawn their swords, and very soon the blows were so
hard and swift that, in the dusk of the evening, it seemed as though the
air were filled with innumerable and many-coloured fireworks. Each was
a practised swordsman, and there was no advantage gained on either side,
when Ning, who had fled on the appearance of Li Ting, reappeared, urging
on her father, whose usually leisurely footsteps were quickened by
the dread that the duel must surely result in certain loss to himself,
either of a valuable servant, or of the discovery which Ning had briefly
explained to him, and of which he at once saw the value.

“‘Oh, most distinguished and expert persons,’ he exclaimed breathlessly,
as soon as he was within hearing distance, ‘do not trouble to give so
marvellous an exhibition for the benefit of this unworthy individual,
who is the only observer of your illustrious dexterity! Indeed, your
honourable condescension so fills this illiterate person with shame that
his hearing is thereby preternaturally sharpened, and he can plainly
distinguish many voices from beyond the Hoang Ho, crying for the
Heaven-sent representative of the degraded Ti Hung to bring them more
idols. Bend, therefore, your refined footsteps in the direction of
Poo Chow, O Li Ting, and leave me to make myself objectionable to this
exceptional young man with my intolerable commonplaces.’

“‘The shadow falls in such a direction as the sun wills,’ said Li Ting,
as he replaced his sword and departed.

“‘Yung Chang,’ said the merchant, ‘I am informed that you have made a
discovery that would be of great value to me, as it undoubtedly would if
it is all that you say. Let us discuss the matter without ceremony. Can
you prove to me that your system possesses the merit you claim for it?
If so, then the matter of arrangement will be easy.’

“‘I am convinced of the absolute certainty and accuracy of the
discovery,’ replied Yung Chang. ‘It is not as though it were an ordinary
matter of human intelligence, for this was discovered to me as I was
worshipping at the tomb of my ancestors. The method is regulated by
a system of squares, triangles, and cubes. But as the practical proof
might be long, and as I hesitate to keep your adorable daughter out in
the damp night air, may I not call at your inimitable dwelling in the
morning, when we can go into the matter thoroughly?’

“I will not weary this intelligent gathering, each member of which
doubtless knows all the books on mathematics off by heart, with a
recital of the means by which Yung Chang proved to Ti Hung the accuracy
of his tables and the value of his discovery of the multiplication
table, which till then had been undreamt of,” continued the
story-teller. “It is sufficient to know that he did so, and that Ti Hung
agreed to his terms, only stipulating that Li Ting should not be made
aware of his dismissal until he had returned and given in his accounts.
The share of the profits that Yung was to receive was cut down very low
by Ti Hung, but the young man did not mind that, as he would live with
his father-in-law for the future.

“With the introduction of this new system, the business increased like
a river at flood-time. All rivals were left far behind, and Ti Hung put
out this sign:

                          “NO WAITING HERE!

  “Good-morning! Have you worshipped one of Ti Hung’s refined
  ninety-nine cash idols?

  “Let the purchasers of ill-constructed idols at other
  establishments, where they have grown old and venerable while
  waiting for the all-thumb proprietors to count up to ten, come to
  the shop of Ti Hung and regain their lost youth. Our ninety-nine
  cash idols are worth a tael a set. We do not, however, claim that
  they will do everything. The ninety-nine cash idols of Ti Hung
  will not, for example, purify linen, but even the most contented
  and frozen-brained person cannot be happy until he possesses one.
  What is happiness? The exceedingly well-educated Philosopher
  defines it as the accomplishment of all our desires. Everyone
  desires one of the Ti Hung’s ninety-nine cash idols, therefore get
  one; but be sure that it is Ti Hung’s.

  “Have you a bad idol? If so, dismiss it, and get one of Ti Hung’s
  ninety-nine cash specimens.

  “Why does your idol look old sooner than your neighbours? Because
  yours is not one of Ti Hung’s ninety-nine cash marvels.

    “They bring all delights to the old and the young,
    The elegant idols supplied by Ti Hung.

  “N.B.--The ‘Great Sacrifice’ idol, forty-five cash; delivered,
  carriage free, in quantities of not less than twelve, at any
  temple, on the evening before the sacrifice.

“It was about this time that Li Ting returned. His journey had been more
than usually successful, and he was well satisfied in consequence. It
was not until he had made out his accounts and handed in his money that
Ti Hung informed him of his agreement with Yung Chang.

“‘Oh, most treacherous and excessively unpopular Ti Hung,’ exclaimed
Li Ting, in a terrible voice, ‘this is the return you make for all my
entrancing efforts in your services, then? It is in this way that you
reward my exceedingly unconscientious recommendations of your very
inferior and unendurable clay idols, with their goggle eyes and concave
stomachs! Before I go, however, I request to be inspired to make the
following remark--that I confidently predict your ruin. And now this
low and undignified person will finally shake the elegant dust of your
distinguished house from his thoroughly inadequate feet, and proceed to
offer his incapable services to the rival establishment over the way.’

“‘The machinations of such an evilly-disposed person as Li Ting will
certainly be exceedingly subtle,’ said Ti Hung to his son-in-law when
the traveller had departed. ‘I must counteract his omens. Herewith I
wish to prophecy that henceforth I shall enjoy an unbroken run of good
fortune. I have spoken, and assuredly I shall not eat my words.’

“As the time went on, it seemed as though Ti Hung had indeed spoken
truly. The ease and celerity with which he transacted his business
brought him customers and dealers from more remote regions than ever,
for they could spend days on the journey and still save time. The
army of clay-gatherers and modellers grew larger and larger, and the
work-sheds stretched almost down to the river’s edge. Only one thing
troubled Ti Hung, and that was the uncongenial disposition of his
son-in-law, for Yung took no further interest in the industry to which
his discovery had given so great an impetus, but resolutely set to work
again to pass his examination for the second degree.

“‘It is an exceedingly distinguished and honourable thing to have failed
thirty-five times, and still to be undiscouraged,’ admitted Ti Hung;
‘but I cannot cleanse my throat from bitterness when I consider that
my noble and lucrative business must pass into the hands of strangers,
perhaps even into the possession of the unendurable Li Ting.’

“But it had been appointed that this degrading thing should not happen,
however, and it was indeed fortunate that Yung did not abandon his
literary pursuits; for after some time it became very apparent to Ti
Hung that there was something radically wrong with his business. It was
not that his custom was falling off in any way; indeed, it had lately
increased in a manner that was phenomenal, and when the merchant came to
look into the matter, he found to his astonishment that the least order
he had received in the past week had been for a hundred idols. All the
sales had been large, and yet Ti Hung found himself most unaccountably
deficient in taels. He was puzzled and alarmed, and for the next few
days he looked into the business closely. Then it was that the reason
was revealed, both for the falling off in the receipts and for the
increase in the orders. The calculations of the unfortunate Yung Chang
were correct up to a hundred, but at that number he had made a gigantic
error--which, however, he was never able to detect and rectify--with
the result that all transactions above that point worked out at a
considerable loss to the seller. It was in vain that the panic-stricken
Ti Hung goaded his miserable son-in-law to correct the mistake; it
was equally in vain that he tried to stem the current of his enormous
commercial popularity. He had competed for public favour, and he had won
it, and every day his business increased till ruin grasped him by the
pigtail. Then came an order from one firm at Peking for five millions of
the ninety-nine cash idols, and at that Ti Hung put up his shutters, and
sat down in the dust.

“‘Behold!’ he exclaimed, ‘in the course of a lifetime there are many
very disagreeable evils that may overtake a person. He may offend the
Sacred Dragon, and be in consequence reduced to a fine dry powder; or he
may incur the displeasure of the benevolent and pure-minded Emperor, and
be condemned to death by roasting; he may also be troubled by demons or
by the disturbed spirits of his ancestors, or be struck by thunderbolts.
Indeed, there are numerous annoyances, but they become as Heaven-sent
blessings in comparison to a self-opinionated and more than ordinarily
weak-minded son-in-law. Of what avail is it that I have habitually
sold one idol for the value of a hundred? The very objectionable man in
possession sits in my delectable summer-house, and the unavoidable
legal documents settle around me like a flock of pigeons. It is indeed
necessary that I should declare myself to be in voluntary liquidation,
and make an assignment of my book debts for the benefit of my creditors.
Having accomplished this, I will proceed to the well-constructed tomb
of my illustrious ancestors, and having kow-towed at their incomparable
shrines, I will put an end to my distinguished troubles with this
exceedingly well-polished sword.’

“‘The wise man can adapt himself to circumstances as water takes the
shape of the vase that contains it,’ said the well-known voice of
Li Ting. ‘Let not the lion and the tiger fight at the bidding of the
jackal. By combining our forces all may be well with you yet. Assist
me to dispose of the entirely superfluous Yung Chang and to marry
the elegant and symmetrical Ning, and in return I will allot to you a
portion of my not inconsiderable income.’

“‘However high the tree, the leaves fall to the ground, and your hour
has come at last, O detestable Li Ting!’ said Yung, who had heard the
speakers and crept upon them unperceived. ‘As for my distinguished
and immaculate father-in-law, doubtless the heat has affected his
indefatigable brains, or he would not have listened to your contemptible
suggestion. For yourself, draw!’

“Both swords flashed, but before a blow could be struck the spirits
of his ancestors hurled Li Ting lifeless to the ground, to avenge the
memories that their unworthy descendant had so often reviled.

“‘So perish all the enemies of Yung Chang,’ said the victor. ‘And now,
my venerated but exceedingly short-sighted father-in-law, learn how
narrowly you have escaped making yourself exceedingly objectionable
to yourself. I have just received intelligence from Peking that I have
passed the second degree, and have in consequence been appointed to a
remunerative position under the Government. This will enable us to live
in comfort, if not in affluence, and the rest of your engaging days can
be peacefully spent in flying kites.’”




III.
THE PROBATION OF SEN HENG


  Related by Kai Lung, at Wu-whei, as a rebuke to Wang Yu and
  certain others who had questioned the practical value of his
  stories.

“It is an undoubted fact that this person has not realized the direct
remunerative advantage which he confidently anticipated,” remarked the
idle and discontented pipe-maker Wang Yu, as, with a few other persons
of similar inclination, he sat in the shade of the great mulberry tree
at Wu-whei, waiting for the evil influence of certain very mysterious
sounds, which had lately been heard, to pass away before he resumed
his occupation. “When the seemingly proficient and trustworthy Kai Lung
first made it his practice to journey to Wu-whei, and narrate to us the
doings of persons of all classes of life,” he continued, “it seemed to
this one that by closely following the recital of how Mandarins obtained
their high position, and exceptionally rich persons their wealth, he
must, in the end, inevitably be rendered competent to follow in their
illustrious footsteps. Yet in how entirely contrary a direction has
the whole course of events tended! In spite of the honourable intention
which involved a frequent absence from his place of commerce, those
who journeyed thither with the set purpose of possessing one of his
justly-famed opium pipes so perversely regarded the matter that, after
two or three fruitless visits, they deliberately turned their footsteps
towards the workshop of the inelegant Ming-yo, whose pipes are
confessedly greatly inferior to those produced by the person who is now
speaking. Nevertheless, the rapacious Kai Lung, to whose influence
the falling off in custom was thus directly attributable, persistently
declined to bear any share whatever in the loss which his profession
caused, and, indeed, regarded the circumstance from so grasping and
narrow-minded a point of observation that he would not even go to the
length of suffering this much-persecuted one to join the circle of his
hearers without on every occasion making the customary offering. In this
manner a well-intentioned pursuit of riches has insidiously led this
person within measurable distance of the bolted dungeon for those who do
not meet their just debts, while the only distinction likely to result
from his assiduous study of the customs and methods of those high
in power is that of being publicly bowstrung as a warning to others.
Manifestedly the pointed finger of the unreliable Kai Lung is a very
treacherous guide.”

“It is related,” said a dispassionate voice behind them, “that a person
of limited intelligence, on being assured that he would certainly one
day enjoy an adequate competence if he closely followed the industrious
habits of the thrifty bee, spent the greater part of his life in
anointing his thighs with the yellow powder which he laboriously
collected from the flowers of the field. It is not so recorded; but
doubtless the nameless one in question was by profession a maker of
opium pipes, for this person has observed from time to time how that
occupation, above all others, tends to degrade the mental faculties, and
to debase its followers to a lower position than that of the beasts of
labour. Learn therefrom, O superficial Wang Yu, that wisdom lies in
an intelligent perception of great principles, and not in a slavish
imitation of details which are, for the most part, beyond your simple
and insufficient understanding.”

“Such may, indeed, be the case, Kai Lung,” replied Wang Yu sullenly--for
it was the story-teller in question who had approached unperceived, and
who now stood before them--“but it is none the less a fact that, on the
last occasion when this misguided person joined the attending circle
at your uplifted voice, a Mandarin of the third degree chanced to
pass through Wu-whei, and halted at the door-step of ‘The Fountain of
Beauty,’ fully intending to entrust this one with the designing and
fashioning of a pipe of exceptional elaborateness. This matter, by his
absence, has now passed from him, and to-day, through listening to the
narrative of how the accomplished Yuin-Pel doubled his fortune, he is
the poorer by many taels.”

“Yet to-morrow, when the name of the Mandarin of the third degree
appears in the list of persons who have transferred their entire
property to those who are nearly related to them in order to avoid it
being seized to satisfy the just claims made against them,” replied Kai
Lung, “you will be able to regard yourself the richer by so many taels.”

At these words, which recalled to the minds of all who were present the
not uncommon manner of behaving observed by those of exalted rank, who
freely engaged persons to supply them with costly articles without in
any way regarding the price to be paid, Wang Yu was silent.

“Nevertheless,” exclaimed a thin voice from the edge of the group which
surrounded Kai Lung, “it in nowise follows that the stories are in
themselves excellent, or of such a nature that the hearing of their
recital will profit a person. Wang Yu may be satisfied with empty words,
but there are others present who were studying deep matters when Wang
Yu was learning the art of walking. If Kai Lung’s stories are of such
remunerative benefit as the person in question claims, how does it
chance that Kai Lung himself who is assuredly the best acquainted with
them, stands before us in mean apparel, and on all occasions confessing
an unassuming poverty?”

“It is Yan-hi Pung,” went from mouth to mouth among the
bystanders--“Yan-hi Pung, who traces on paper the words of chants and
historical tales, and sells them to such as can afford to buy. And
although his motive in exposing the emptiness of Kai Lung’s stories may
not be Heaven-sent--inasmuch as Kai Lung provides us with such matter
as he himself purveys, only at a much more moderate price--yet his words
are well considered, and must therefore be regarded.”

“O Yan-hi Pung,” replied Kai Lung, hearing the name from those who
stood about him, and moving towards the aged person, who stood meanwhile
leaning upon his staff, and looking from side to side with quickly
moving eyelids in a manner very offensive towards the story-teller,
“your just remark shows you to be a person of exceptional wisdom, even
as your well-bowed legs prove you to be one of great bodily strength;
for justice is ever obvious and wisdom hidden, and they who build
structures for endurance discard the straight and upright and insist
upon such an arch as you so symmetrically exemplify.”

Speaking in this conciliatory manner, Kai Lung came up to Yan-hi Pung,
and taking between his fingers a disc of thick polished crystal,
which the aged and short-sighted chant-writer used for the purpose of
magnifying and bringing nearer the letters upon which he was engaged,
and which hung around his neck by an embroidered cord, the story-teller
held it aloft, crying aloud:

“Observe closely, and presently it will be revealed and made clear how
the apparently very conflicting words of the wise Yan-hi Pung, and those
of this unassuming but nevertheless conscientious person who is now
addressing you, are, in reality, as one great truth.”

With this assurance Kai Lung moved the crystal somewhat, so that it
engaged the sun’s rays, and concentrated them upon the uncovered crown
of the unsuspecting and still objectionably-engaged person before
him. Without a moment’s pause, Yan-hi Pung leapt high into the air,
repeatedly pressing his hand to the spot thus selected and crying aloud:

“Evil dragons and thunderbolts! but the touch was as hot as a scar left
by the uncut nail of the sublime Buddha!”

“Yet the crystal--” remarked Kai Lung composedly, passing it into the
hands of those who stood near.

“Is as cool as the innermost leaves of the riverside sycamore,” they
declared.

Kai Lung said nothing further, but raised both his hands above his head,
as if demanding their judgment. Thereupon a loud shout went up on his
behalf, for the greater part of them loved to see the manner in which
he brushed aside those who would oppose him; and the sight of the aged
person Yan-hi Pung leaping far into the air had caused them to become
exceptionally amused, and, in consequence, very amiably disposed towards
the one who had afforded them the entertainment.

“The story of Sen Heng,” began Kai Lung, when the discussion had
terminated in the manner already recorded, “concerns itself with one who
possessed an unsuspecting and ingenious nature, which ill-fitted him
to take an ordinary part in the everyday affairs of life, no matter how
engaging such a character rendered him among his friends and relations.
Having at an early age been entrusted with a burden of rice and other
produce from his father’s fields to dispose of in the best possible
manner at a neighbouring mart, and having completed the transaction in a
manner extremely advantageous to those with whom he trafficked but very
intolerable to the one who had sent him, it at once became apparent that
some other means of gaining a livelihood must be discovered for him.

“‘Beyond all doubt,’ said his father, after considering the matter for a
period, ‘it is a case in which one should be governed by the wise advice
and example of the Mandarin Poo-chow.’

“‘Illustrious sire,’ exclaimed Sen Heng, who chanced to be present, ‘the
illiterate person who stands before you is entirely unacquainted
with the one to whom you have referred; nevertheless, he will, as you
suggest, at once set forth, and journeying with all speed to the abode
of the estimable Poo-chow, solicit his experience and advice.’

“‘Unless a more serious loss should be occasioned,’ replied the father
coldly, ‘there is no necessity to adopt so extreme a course. The
benevolent Mandarin in question existed at a remote period of the Thang
dynasty, and the incident to which an allusion has been made arose in
the following way: To the public court of the enlightened Poo-chow there
came one day a youth of very inferior appearance and hesitating
manner, who besought his explicit advice, saying: “The degraded and
unprepossessing being before you, O select and venerable Mandarin, is by
nature and attainments a person of the utmost timidity and fearfulness.
From this cause life itself has become a detestable observance in his
eyes, for those who should be his companions of both sexes hold him in
undisguised contempt, making various unendurable allusions to the colour
and nature of his internal organs whenever he would endeavour to join
them. Instruct him, therefore, the manner in which this cowardice may be
removed, and no service in return will be esteemed too great.” “There
is a remedy,” replied the benevolent Mandarin, without any hesitation
whatever, “which if properly carried out is efficacious beyond the
possibility of failure. Certain component parts of your body are
lacking, and before the desired result can be obtained these must be
supplied from without. Of all courageous things the tiger is the most
fearless, and in consequence it combines all those ingredients which you
require; furthermore, as the teeth of the tiger are the instruments with
which it accomplishes its vengeful purpose, there reside the essential
principles of its inimitable courage. Let the person who seeks
instruction in the matter, therefore, do as follows: taking the teeth of
a full-grown tiger as soon as it is slain, and before the essences
have time to return into the body, he shall grind them to a powder, and
mixing the powder with a portion of rice, consume it. After seven days
he must repeat the observance, and yet again a third time, after another
similar lapse. Let him, then, return for further guidance; for the
present the matter interests this person no further.” At these words the
youth departed, filled with a new and inspired hope; for the wisdom of
the sagacious Poo-chow was a matter which did not admit of any doubt
whatever, and he had spoken with well-defined certainty of the success
of the experiment. Nevertheless, after several days industriously spent
in endeavouring to obtain by purchase the teeth of a newly-slain tiger,
the details of the undertaking began to assume a new and entirely
unforeseen aspect; for those whom he approached as being the most
likely to possess what he required either became very immoderately and
disagreeably amused at the nature of the request, or regarded it as a
new and ill-judged form of ridicule, which they prepared to avenge by
blows and by base remarks of the most personal variety. At length it
became unavoidably obvious to the youth that if he was to obtain the
articles in question it would first be necessary that he should become
adept in the art of slaying tigers, for in no other way were the
required conditions likely to be present. Although the prospect was one
which did not greatly tend to allure him, yet he did not regard it
with the utterly incapable emotions which would have been present on an
earlier occasion; for the habit of continually guarding himself from
the onslaughts of those who received his inquiry in an attitude of
narrow-minded distrust had inspired him with a new-found valour, while
his amiable and unrestrained manner of life increased his bodily vigour
in every degree. First perfecting himself in the use of the bow and
arrow, therefore, he betook himself to a wild and very extensive forest,
and there concealed himself among the upper foliage of a tall tree
standing by the side of a pool of water. On the second night of his
watch, the youth perceived a large but somewhat ill-conditioned tiger
approaching the pool for the purpose of quenching its thirst, whereupon
he tremblingly fitted an arrow to his bowstring, and profiting by the
instruction he had received, succeeded in piercing the creature to
the heart. After fulfilling the observance laid upon him by the
discriminating Poo-chow, the youth determined to remain in the forest,
and sustain himself upon such food as fell to his weapons, until the
time arrived when he should carry out the rite for the last time. At the
end of seven days, so subtle had he become in all kinds of hunting, and
so strengthened by the meat and herbs upon which he existed, that he
disdained to avail himself of the shelter of a tree, but standing openly
by the side of the water, he engaged the attention of the first tiger
which came to drink, and discharged arrow after arrow into its body with
unfailing power and precision. So entrancing, indeed, had the pursuit
become that the next seven days lengthened out into the apparent period
of as many moons, in such a leisurely manner did they rise and fall. On
the appointed day, without waiting for the evening to arrive, the youth
set out with the first appearance of light, and penetrated into the most
inaccessible jungles, crying aloud words of taunt-laden challenge to all
the beasts therein, and accusing the ancestors of their race of every
imaginable variety of evil behaviour. Yet so great had become the renown
of the one who stood forth, and so widely had the warning voice been
passed from tree to tree, preparing all who dwelt in the forest against
his anger, that not even the fiercest replied openly, though low growls
and mutterings proceeded from every cave within a bow-shot’s distance
around. Wearying quickly of such feeble and timorous demonstrations, the
youth rushed into the cave from which the loudest murmurs proceeded, and
there discovered a tiger of unnatural size, surrounded by the bones of
innumerable ones whom it had devoured; for from time to time its
ravages became so great and unbearable, that armies were raised in
the neighbouring villages and sent to destroy it, but more than a
few stragglers never returned. Plainly recognizing that a just and
inevitable vengeance had overtaken it, the tiger made only a very
inferior exhibition of resistance, and the youth, having first stunned
it with a blow of his closed hand, seized it by the middle, and
repeatedly dashed its head against the rocky sides of its retreat. He
then performed for the third time the ceremony enjoined by the Mandarin,
and having cast upon the cringing and despicable forms concealed in the
surrounding woods and caves a look of dignified and ineffable contempt,
set out upon his homeward journey, and in the space of three days’ time
reached the town of the versatile Poo-chow. “Behold,” exclaimed that
person, when, lifting up his eyes, he saw the youth approaching laden
with the skins of the tigers and other spoils, “now at least the youths
and maidens of your native village will no longer withdraw themselves
from the company of so undoubtedly heroic a person.” “Illustrious
Mandarin,” replied the other, casting both his weapons and his trophies
before his inspired adviser’s feet, “what has this person to do with the
little ones of either sex? Give him rather the foremost place in your
ever-victorious company of bowmen, so that he may repay in part the
undoubted debt under which he henceforth exists.” This proposal found
favour with the pure-minded Poo-chow, so that in course of time the
unassuming youth who had come supplicating his advice became the
valiant commander of his army, and the one eventually chosen to present
plighting gifts to his only daughter.’

“When the father had completed the narrative of how the faint-hearted
youth became in the end a courageous and resourceful leader of bowmen,
Sen looked up, and not in any degree understanding the purpose of the
story, or why it had been set forth before him, exclaimed:

“‘Undoubtedly the counsel of the graceful and intelligent Mandarin
Poo-chow was of inestimable service in the case recorded, and this
person would gladly adopt it as his guide for the future, on the chance
of it leading to a similar honourable career; but alas! there are no
tigers to be found throughout this Province.’

“‘It is a loss which those who are engaged in commerce in the city of
Hankow strive to supply adequately,’ replied his father, who had an
assured feeling that it would be of no avail to endeavour to show
Sen that the story which he had just related was one setting forth a
definite precept rather than fixing an exact manner of behaviour. ‘For
that reason,’ he continued, ‘this person has concluded an arrangement by
which you will journey to that place, and there enter into the house of
commerce of an expert and conscientious vendor of moving contrivances.
Among so rapacious and keen-witted a class of persons as they of Hankow,
it is exceedingly unlikely that your amiable disposition will involve
any individual one in an unavoidably serious loss, and even should
such an unforeseen event come to pass, there will, at least, be the
undeniable satisfaction of the thought that the unfortunate occurrence
will in no way affect the prosperity of those to whom you are bound by
the natural ties of affection.’

“‘Benevolent and virtuous-minded father,’ replied Sen gently, but
speaking with an inspired conviction; ‘from his earliest infancy this
unassuming one has been instructed in an inviolable regard for the Five
General Principles of Fidelity to the Emperor, Respect for Parents,
Harmony between Husband and Wife, Agreement among Brothers, and
Constancy in Friendship. It will be entirely unnecessary to inform so
pious-minded a person as the one now being addressed that no evil can
attend the footsteps of an individual who courteously observes these
enactments.’

“‘Without doubt it is so arranged by the protecting Deities,’ replied
the father; ‘yet it is an exceedingly desirable thing for those who are
responsible in the matter that the footsteps to which reference has been
made should not linger in the neighbourhood of the village, but should,
with all possible speed, turn in the direction of Hankow.’

“In this manner it came to pass that Sen Heng set forth on the following
day, and coming without delay to the great and powerful city of Hankow,
sought out the house of commerce known as ‘The Pure Gilt Dragon of
Exceptional Symmetry,’ where the versatile King-y-Yang engaged in the
entrancing occupation of contriving moving figures, and other devices of
an ingenious and mirth-provoking character, which he entrusted into the
hands of numerous persons to sell throughout the Province. From this
cause, although enjoying a very agreeable recompense from the sale
of the objects, the greatly perturbed King-y-Yang suffered continual
internal misgivings; for the habit of behaving of those whom he
appointed to go forth in the manner described was such that he could not
entirely dismiss from his mind an assured conviction that the details
were not invariably as they were represented to be. Frequently would
one return in a very deficient and unpresentable condition of garment,
asserting that on his return, while passing through a lonely and
unprotected district, he had been assailed by an armed band of robbers,
and despoiled of all he possessed. Another would claim to have been made
the sport of evil spirits, who led him astray by means of false signs
in the forest, and finally destroyed his entire burden of commodities,
accompanying the unworthy act by loud cries of triumph and remarks of
an insulting nature concerning King-y-Yang; for the honourable character
and charitable actions of the person in question had made him very
objectionable to that class of beings. Others continually accounted
for the absence of the required number of taels by declaring that at
a certain point of their journey they were made the object of marks
of amiable condescension on the part of a high and dignified public
official, who, on learning in whose service they were, immediately
professed an intimate personal friendship with the estimable
King-y-Yang, and, out of a feeling of gratified respect for him, took
away all such contrivances as remained undisposed of, promising to
arrange the payment with the refined King-y-Yang himself when they
should next meet. For these reasons King-y-Yang was especially desirous
of obtaining one whose spoken word could be received, upon all points,
as an assured fact, and it was, therefore, with an emotion of internal
lightness that he confidently heard from those who were acquainted
with the person that Sen Heng was, by nature and endowments, utterly
incapable of representing matters of even the most insignificant degree
to be otherwise than what they really were.

Filled with an acute anxiety to discover what amount of success would
be accorded to his latest contrivance, King-y-Yang led Sen Heng to a
secluded chamber, and there instructed him in the method of selling
certain apparently very ingeniously constructed ducks, which would have
the appearance of swimming about on the surface of an open vessel of
water, at the same time uttering loud and ever-increasing cries, after
the manner of their kind. With ill-restrained admiration at the skilful
nature of the deception, King-y-Yang pointed out that the ducks which
were to be disposed of, and upon which a seemingly very low price was
fixed, did not, in reality, possess any of these accomplishments, but
would, on the contrary, if placed in water, at once sink to the bottom
in a most incapable manner; it being part of Sen’s duty to exhibit only
a specially prepared creature which was restrained upon the surface by
means of hidden cords, and, while bending over it, to simulate the cries
as agreed upon. After satisfying himself that Sen could perform these
movements competently, King-y-Yang sent him forth, particularly charging
him that he should not return without a sum of money which fully
represented the entire number of ducks entrusted to him, or an adequate
number of unsold ducks to compensate for the deficiency.

“At the end of seven days Sen returned to King-y-Yang, and although
entirely without money, even to the extent of being unable to provide
himself with the merest necessities of a frugal existence, he honourably
returned the full number of ducks with which he had set out. It then
became evident that although Sen had diligently perfected himself in the
sounds and movements which King-y-Yang had contrived, he had not
fully understood that they were to be executed stealthily, but had,
in consequence, manifested the accomplishment openly, not unreasonably
supposing that such an exhibition would be an additional inducement to
those who appeared to be well-disposed towards the purchase. From this
cause it came about that although large crowds were attracted by Sen’s
manner of conducting the enterprise, none actually engaged to purchase
even the least expensively-valued of the ducks, although several
publicly complimented Sen on his exceptional proficiency, and repeatedly
urged him to louder and more frequent cries, suggesting that by such
means possible buyers might be attracted to the spot from remote and
inaccessible villages in the neighbourhood.

“When King-y-Yang learned how the venture had been carried out, he
became most intolerably self-opinionated in his expressions towards
Sen’s mental attainments and the manner of his bringing up. It was
entirely in vain that the one referred to pointed out in a tone of
persuasive and courteous restraint that he had not, down to the most
minute particulars, transgressed either the general or the specific
obligations of the Five General Principles, and that, therefore, he was
blameless, and even worthy of commendation for the manner in which he
had acted. With an inelegant absence of all refined feeling, King-y-Yang
most incapably declined to discuss the various aspects of the
controversy in an amiable manner, asserting, indeed, that for the
consideration of as many brass cash as Sen had mentioned principles
he would cause him to be thrown into prison as a person of unnatural
ineptitude. Then, without rewarding Sen for the time spent in his
service, or even inviting him to partake of food and wine, the
insufferable deviser of very indifferent animated contrivances again
sent him out, this time into the streets of Hankow with a number of
delicately inlaid boxes, remarking in a tone of voice which plainly
indicated an exactly contrary desire that he would be filled with an
overwhelming satisfaction if Sen could discover any excuse for returning
a second time without disposing of anything. This remark Sen’s ingenuous
nature led him to regard as a definite fact, so that when a passer-by,
who tarried to examine the boxes chanced to remark that the colours
might have been arranged to greater advantage, in which case he would
certainly have purchased at least one of the articles, Sen hastened
back, although in a distant part of the city, to inform King-y-Yang of
the suggestion, adding that he himself had been favourably impressed
with the improvement which could be effected by such an alteration.

“The nature of King-y-Yang’s emotion when Sen again presented himself
before him--and when by repeatedly applied tests on various parts of his
body he understood that he was neither the victim of malicious demons,
nor wandering in an insensible condition in the Middle Air, but that the
cause of the return was such as had been plainly stated--was of so mixed
and benumbing a variety, that for a considerable space of time he was
quite unable to express himself in any way, either by words or by signs.
By the time these attributes returned there had formed itself within
King-y-Yang’s mind a design of most contemptible malignity, which seemed
to present to his enfeebled intellect a scheme by which Sen would be
adequately punished, and finally disposed of, without causing him any
further trouble in the matter. For this purpose he concealed the real
condition of his sentiments towards Sen, and warmly expressed himself in
terms of delicate flattery regarding that one’s sumptuous and unfailing
taste in the matter of the blending of the colours. Without doubt, he
continued, such an alteration as the one proposed would greatly increase
the attractiveness of the inlaid boxes, and the matter should be engaged
upon without delay. In the meantime, however, not to waste the immediate
services of so discriminating and persevering a servant, he would
entrust Sen with a mission of exceptional importance, which would
certainly tend greatly to his remunerative benefit. In the district
of Yun, in the north-western part of the Province, said the crafty
and treacherous King-y-Yang, a particular kind of insect was greatly
esteemed on account of the beneficent influence which it exercised over
the rice plants, causing them to mature earlier, and to attain a greater
size than ever happened in its absence. In recent years this creature
had rarely been seen in the neighbourhood of Yun, and, in consequence,
the earth-tillers throughout that country had been brought into a most
disconcerting state of poverty, and would, inevitably, be prepared to
exchange whatever they still possessed for even a few of the insects, in
order that they might liberate them to increase, and so entirely reverse
the objectionable state of things. Speaking in this manner, King-y-Yang
entrusted to Sen a carefully prepared box containing a score of the
insects, obtained at a great cost from a country beyond the Bitter
Water, and after giving him further directions concerning the journey,
and enjoining the utmost secrecy about the valuable contents of the box,
he sent him forth.

“The discreet and sagacious will already have understood the nature of
King-y-Yang’s intolerable artifice; but, for the benefit of the amiable
and unsuspecting, it is necessary to make it clear that the words which
he had spoken bore no sort of resemblance to affairs as they really
existed. The district around Yun was indeed involved in a most
unprepossessing destitution, but this had been caused, not by the
absence of any rare and auspicious insect, but by the presence of vast
hordes of locusts, which had overwhelmed and devoured the entire face
the country. It so chanced that among the recently constructed devices
at ‘The Pure Gilt Dragon of Exceptional Symmetry’ were a number of
elegant representations of rice fields and fruit gardens so skilfully
fashioned that they deceived even the creatures, and attracted, among
other living things, all the locusts in Hankow into that place of
commerce. It was a number of these insects that King-y-Yang vindictively
placed in the box which he instructed Sen to carry to Yun, well knowing
that the reception which would be accorded to anyone who appeared there
on such a mission would be of so fatally destructive a kind that the
consideration of his return need not engage a single conjecture.

“Entirely tranquil in intellect--for the possibility of King-y-Yang’s
intention being in any way other than what he had represented it to
be did not arise within Sen’s ingenuous mind--the person in question
cheerfully set forth on his long but unavoidable march towards the
region of Yun. As he journeyed along the way, the nature of his
meditation brought up before him the events which had taken place since
his arrival at Hankow; and, for the first time, it was brought within
his understanding that the story of the youth and the three tigers,
which his father had related to him, was in the likeness of a proverb,
by which counsel and warning is conveyed in a graceful and inoffensive
manner. Readily applying the fable to his own condition, he could not
doubt but that the first two animals to be overthrown were represented
by the two undertakings which he had already conscientiously performed
in the matter of the mechanical ducks and the inlaid boxes, and the
conviction that he was even then engaged on the third and last trial
filled him with an intelligent gladness so unobtrusive and refined that
he could express his entrancing emotions in no other way than by lifting
up his voice and uttering the far-reaching cries which he had used on
the first of the occasions just referred to.

“In this manner the first part of the journey passed away with engaging
celerity. Anxious as Sen undoubtedly was to complete the third task, and
approach the details which, in his own case, would correspond with the
command of the bowmen and the marriage with the Mandarin’s daughter of
the person in the story, the noontide heat compelled him to rest in the
shade by the wayside for a lengthy period each day. During one of
these pauses it occurred to his versatile mind that the time which was
otherwise uselessly expended might be well disposed of in endeavouring
to increase the value and condition of the creatures under his care by
instructing them in the performance of some simple accomplishments,
such as might not be too laborious for their feeble and immature
understanding. In this he was more successful than he had imagined could
possibly be the case, for the discriminating insects, from the first,
had every appearance of recognizing that Sen was inspired by a sincere
regard for their ultimate benefit, and was not merely using them for
his own advancement. So assiduously did they devote themselves to their
allotted tasks, that in a very short space of time there was no detail
in connexion with their own simple domestic arrangements that was not
understood and daily carried out by an appointed band. Entranced at this
intelligent manner of conducting themselves, Sen industriously applied
his time to the more congenial task of instructing them in the refined
arts, and presently he had the enchanting satisfaction of witnessing a
number of the most cultivated faultlessly and unhesitatingly perform a
portion of the well-known gravity-removing play entitled “The Benevolent
Omen of White Dragon Tea Garden; or, Three Times a Mandarin.” Not even
content with this elevating display, Sen ingeniously contrived, from
various objects which he discovered at different points by the wayside,
an effective and life-like representation of a war-junk, for which he
trained a crew, who, at an agreed signal, would take up their appointed
places and go through the required movements, both of sailing, and of
discharging the guns, in a reliable and efficient manner.

“As Sen was one day educating the least competent of the insects in the
simpler parts of banner-carriers, gong-beaters, and the like, to their
more graceful and versatile companions, he lifted up his eyes and
beheld, standing by his side, a person of very elaborately embroidered
apparel and commanding personality, who had all the appearance of one
who had been observing his movements for some space of time. Calling
up within his remembrance the warning which he had received from
King-y-Yang, Sen was preparing to restore the creatures to their closed
box, when the stranger, in a loud and dignified voice, commanded him to
refrain, adding:

“‘There is, resting at a spot within the immediate neighbourhood,
a person of illustrious name and ancestry, who would doubtless be
gratified to witness the diverting actions of which this one has
recently been a spectator. As the reward of a tael cannot be unwelcome
to a person of your inferior appearance and unpresentable garments, take
up your box without delay, and follow the one who is now before you.’

“With these words the richly-clad stranger led the way through a narrow
woodland path, closely followed by Sen, to whom the attraction of the
promised reward--a larger sum, indeed, than he had ever possessed--was
sufficiently alluring to make him determined that the other should not,
for the briefest possible moment, pass beyond his sight.

“Not to withhold that which Sen was entirely ignorant of until a later
period, it is now revealed that the person in question was the official
Provider of Diversions and Pleasurable Occupations to the sacred
and illimitable Emperor, who was then engaged in making an unusually
extensive march through the eight Provinces surrounding his Capital--for
the acute and well-educated will not need to be reminded that Nanking
occupied that position at the time now engaged with. Until his
providential discovery of Sen, the distinguished Provider had been
immersed in a most unenviable condition of despair, for his enlightened
but exceedingly perverse-minded master had, of late, declined to be
in any way amused, or even interested, by the simple and unpretentious
entertainment which could be obtained in so inaccessible a region. The
well-intentioned efforts of the followers of the Court, who engagingly
endeavoured to divert the Imperial mind by performing certain feats
which they remembered to have witnessed on previous occasions, but
which, until the necessity arose, they had never essayed, were entirely
without result of a beneficial order. Even the accomplished Provider’s
one attainment--that of striking together both the hands and the feet
thrice simultaneously, while leaping into the air, and at the same time
producing a sound not unlike that emitted by a large and vigorous bee
when held captive in the fold of a robe, an action which never failed
to throw the illustrious Emperor into a most uncontrollable state of
amusement when performed within the Imperial Palace--now only drew
from him the unsympathetic, if not actually offensive, remark that the
attitude and the noise bore a marked resemblance to those produced by a
person when being bowstrung, adding, with unprepossessing significance,
that of the two entertainments he had an unevadable conviction that the
bowstringing would be the more acceptable and gravity-removing.

“When Sen beheld the size and the silk-hung magnificence of the camp
into which his guide led him, he was filled with astonishment, and at
the same time recognized that he had acted in an injudicious and hasty
manner by so readily accepting the offer of a tael; whereas, if he had
been in possession of the true facts of the case, as they now appeared,
he would certainly have endeavoured to obtain double that amount before
consenting. As he was hesitating within himself whether the matter might
not even yet be arranged in a more advantageous manner, he was suddenly
led forward into the most striking and ornamental of the tents, and
commanded to engage the attention of the one in whose presence he found
himself, without delay.

“From the first moment when the inimitable creatures began, at Sen’s
spoken word, to go through the ordinary details of their domestic
affairs, there was no sort of doubt as to the nature of the success with
which their well-trained exertions would be received. The dark shadows
instantly forsook the enraptured Emperor’s select brow, and from time
to time he expressed himself in words of most unrestrained and intimate
encouragement. So exuberant became the overjoyed Provider’s emotion at
having at length succeeded in obtaining the services of one who was
able to recall his Imperial master’s unclouded countenance, that he came
forward in a most unpresentable state of haste, and rose into the air
uncommanded, for the display of his usually not unwelcome acquirement.
This he would doubtless have executed competently had not Sen, who stood
immediately behind him, suddenly and unexpectedly raised his voice in
a very vigorous and proficient duck cry, thereby causing the one before
him to endeavour to turn around in alarm, while yet in the air--an
intermingled state of movements of both the body and the mind that
caused him to abandon his original intention in a manner which removed
the gravity of the Emperor to an even more pronounced degree than had
been effected by the diverting attitudes of the insects.

“When the gratified Emperor had beheld every portion of the tasks
which Sen had instilled into the minds of the insects, down even to the
minutest detail, he called the well-satisfied Provider before him,
and addressing him in a voice which might be designed to betray either
sternness or an amiable indulgence, said:

“‘You, O Shan-se, are reported to be a person of no particular intellect
or discernment, and, for this reason, these ones who are speaking have a
desire to know how the matter will present itself in your eyes. Which
is it the more commendable and honourable for a person to train to
a condition of unfailing excellence, human beings of confessed
intelligence or insects of a low and degraded standard?’

“To this remark the discriminating Shan-se made no reply, being, indeed,
undecided in his mind whether such a course was expected of him. On
several previous occasions the somewhat introspective Emperor had
addressed himself to persons in what they judged to be the form of a
question, as one might say, ‘How blue is the unapproachable air canopy,
and how delicately imagined the colour of the clouds!’ yet when they had
expressed their deliberate opinion on the subjects referred to,
stating the exact degree of blueness, and the like, the nature of
their reception ever afterwards was such that, for the future, persons
endeavoured to determine exactly the intention of the Emperor’s mind
before declaring themselves in words. Being exceedingly doubtful on this
occasion, therefore, the very cautious Shan-se adopted the more prudent
and uncompromising attitude, and smiling acquiescently, he raised both
his hands with a self-deprecatory movement.

“‘Alas!’ exclaimed the Emperor, in a tone which plainly indicated that
the evasive Shan-se had adopted a course which did not commend itself,
‘how unendurable a condition of affairs is it for a person of acute
mental perception to be annoyed by the inopportune behaviour of one
who is only fit to mix on terms of equality with beggars, and low-caste
street cleaners--’

“‘Such a condition of affairs is indeed most offensively unbearable,
illustrious Being,’ remarked Shan-se, who clearly perceived that his
former silence had not been productive of a delicate state of feeling
towards himself.

“‘It has frequently been said,’ continued the courteous and pure-minded
Emperor, only signifying his refined displeasure at Shan-se’s really
ill-considered observation by so arranging his position that the person
in question on longer enjoyed the sublime distinction of gazing upon his
benevolent face, ‘that titles and offices have been accorded, from time
to time, without any regard for the fitting qualifications of those to
whom they were presented. The truth that such a state of things does
occasionally exist has been brought before our eyes during the past
few days by the abandoned and inefficient behaviour of one who will
henceforth be a marked official; yet it has always been our endeavour
to reward expert and unassuming merit, whenever it is discovered. As
we were setting forth, when we were interrupted in a most obstinate and
superfluous manner, the one who can guide and cultivate the minds of
unthinking, and not infrequently obstinate and rapacious, insects would
certainly enjoy an even greater measure of success if entrusted with the
discriminating intellects of human beings. For this reason it appears
that no more fitting person could be found to occupy the important and
well-rewarded position of Chief Arranger of the Competitive Examinations
than the one before us--provided his opinions and manner of expressing
himself are such as commend themselves to us. To satisfy us on this
point let Sen Heng now stand forth and declare his beliefs.’

“On this invitation Sen advanced the requisite number of paces, and not
in any degree understanding what was required of him, determined that
the occasion was one when he might fittingly declare the Five General
Principles which were ever present in his mind. ‘Unquestioning Fidelity
to the Sacred Emperor--’ he began, when the person in question signified
that the trial was over.

“‘After so competent and inspired an expression as that which has just
been uttered, which, if rightly considered, includes all lesser things,
it is unnecessary to say more,’ he declared affably. ‘The appointment
which has already been specified is now declared to be legally
conferred. The evening will be devoted to a repetition of the entrancing
manoeuvres performed by the insects, to be followed by a feast and music
in honour of the recognized worth and position of the accomplished Sen
Heng. There is really no necessity for the apparently over-fatigued
Shan-se to attend the festival.’

“In such a manner was the foundation of Sen’s ultimate prosperity
established, by which he came in the process of time to occupy a very
high place in public esteem. Yet, being a person of honourably-minded
conscientiousness, he did not hesitate, when questioned by those who
made pilgrimages to him for the purpose of learning by what means he
had risen to so remunerative a position, to ascribe his success, not
entirely to his own intelligent perception of persons and events, but,
in part, also to a never-failing regard for the dictates of the Five
General Principles, and a discriminating subservience to the inspired
wisdom of the venerable Poo-chow, as conveyed to him in the story of
the faint-hearted youth and the three tigers. This story Sen furthermore
caused to be inscribed in letters of gold, and displayed in a prominent
position in his native village, where it has since doubtless been the
means of instructing and advancing countless observant ones who have not
been too insufferable to be guided by the experience of those who have
gone before.”




IV.
THE EXPERIMENT OF THE MANDARIN CHAN HUNG


  Related by Kai Lung at Shan Tzu, on the occasion of his receiving
  a very unexpected reward.

“There are certainly many occasions when the principles of the Mandarin
Chan Hung appear to find practical favour in the eyes of those who form
this usually uncomplaining person’s audiences at Shan Tzu,” remarked Kai
Lung, with patient resignation, as he took up his collecting-bowl and
transferred the few brass coins which it held to a concealed place among
his garments. “Has the village lately suffered from a visit of one
of those persons who come armed with authority to remove by force or
stratagem such goods as bear names other than those possessed by their
holders? or is it, indeed--as they of Wu-whei confidently assert--that
when the Day of Vows arrives the people of Shan Tzu, with one accord,
undertake to deny themselves in the matter of gifts and free offerings,
in spite of every conflicting impulse?”

“They of Wu-whei!” exclaimed a self-opinionated bystander, who had
by some means obtained an inferior public office, and who was, in
consequence, enabled to be present on all occasions without contributing
any offering. “Well is that village named ‘The Refuge of Unworthiness,’
for its dwellers do little but rob and illtreat strangers, and spread
evil and lying reports concerning better endowed ones than themselves.”

“Such a condition of affairs may exist,” replied Kai Lung, without
any indication of concern either one way or the other; “yet it is an
undeniable fact that they reward this commonplace story-teller’s too
often underestimated efforts in a manner which betrays them either to
be of noble birth, or very desirous of putting to shame their less
prosperous neighbouring places.”

“Such exhibitions of uncalled-for lavishness are merely the signs of an
ill-regulated and inordinate vanity,” remarked a Mandarin of the eighth
grade, who chanced to be passing, and who stopped to listen to Kai
Lung’s words. “Nevertheless, it is not fitting that a collection of
decaying hovels, which Wu-whei assuredly is, should, in however small
a detail, appear to rise above Shan Tzu, so that if the versatile and
unassuming Kai Lung will again honour this assembly by allowing his
well-constructed bowl to pass freely to and fro, this obscure and
otherwise entirely superfluous individual will make it his especial care
that the brass of Wu-whei shall be answered with solid copper, and its
debased pewter with doubly refined silver.”

With these encouraging words the very opportune Mandarin of the eighth
grade himself followed the story-teller’s collecting-bowl, observing
closely what each person contributed, so that, although he gave nothing
from his own store, Kai Lung had never before received so honourable an
amount.

“O illustrious Kai Lung,” exclaimed a very industrious and ill-clad
herb-gatherer, who, in spite of his poverty, could not refrain from
mingling with listeners whenever the story-teller appeared in Shan Tzu,
“a single piece of brass money is to this person more than a block
of solid gold to many of Wu-whei; yet he has twice made the customary
offering, once freely, once because a courteous and pure-minded
individual who possesses certain written papers of his connected with
the repayment of some few taels walked behind the bowl and engaged
his eyes with an unmistakable and very significant glance. This fact
emboldens him to make the following petition: that in place of the not
altogether unknown story of Yung Chang which had been announced the
proficient and nimble-minded Kai Lung will entice our attention with the
history of the Mandarin Chan Hung, to which reference has already been
made.”

“The occasion is undoubtedly one which calls for recognition to an
unusual degree,” replied Kai Lung with extreme affability. “To that end
this person will accordingly narrate the story which has been suggested,
notwithstanding the fact that it has been specially prepared for
the ears of the sublime Emperor, who is at this moment awaiting this
unseemly one’s arrival in Peking with every mark of ill-restrained
impatience, tempered only by his expectation of being the first to hear
the story of the well-meaning but somewhat premature Chan Hung.

“The Mandarin in question lived during the reign of the accomplished
Emperor Tsint-Sin, his Yamen being at Fow Hou, in the Province of
Shan-Tung, of which place he was consequently the chief official. In his
conscientious desire to administer a pure and beneficent rule, he not
infrequently made himself a very prominent object for public disregard,
especially by his attempts to introduce untried things, when from
time to time such matters arose within his mind and seemed to promise
agreeable and remunerative results. In this manner it came about that
the streets of Fow Hou were covered with large flat stones, to the great
inconvenience of those persons who had, from a very remote period, been
in the habit of passing the night on the soft clay which at all
seasons of the year afforded a pleasant and efficient resting-place.
Nevertheless, in certain matters his engaging efforts were attended by
an obvious success. Having noticed that misfortunes and losses are much
less keenly felt when they immediately follow in the steps of an earlier
evil, the benevolent and humane-minded Chan Hung devised an ingenious
method of lightening the burden of a necessary taxation by arranging
that those persons who were the most heavily involved should be made the
victims of an attack and robbery on the night before the matter became
due. By this thoughtful expedient the unpleasant duty of parting from so
many taels was almost imperceptibly led up to, and when, after the lapse
of some slight period, the first sums of money were secretly returned,
with a written proverb appropriate to the occasion, the public rejoicing
of those who, had the matter been left to its natural course,
would still have been filling the air with bitter and unendurable
lamentations, plainly testified to the inspired wisdom of the
enlightened Mandarin.

“The well-merited success of this amiable expedient caused the Mandarin
Chan Hung every variety of intelligent emotion, and no day passed
without him devoting a portion of his time to the labour of discovering
other advantages of a similar nature. Engrossed in deep and very sublime
thought of this order, he chanced upon a certain day to be journeying
through Fow Hou, when he met a person of irregular intellect, who
made an uncertain livelihood by following the unassuming and
charitably-disposed from place to place, chanting in a loud voice set
verses recording their virtues, which he composed in their honour. On
account of his undoubted infirmities this person was permitted a greater
freedom of speech with those above him than would have been the case had
his condition been merely ordinary; so that when Chan Hung observed him
becoming very grossly amused on his approach, to such an extent indeed,
that he neglected to perform any of the fitting acts of obeisance,
the wise and noble-minded Mandarin did not in any degree suffer his
complacency to be affected, but, drawing near, addressed him in a calm
and dignified manner.

“‘Why, O Ming-hi,’ he said, ‘do you permit your gravity to be removed
to such an exaggerated degree at the sight of this in no way striking
or exceptional person? and why, indeed, do you stand in so unbecoming
an attitude in the presence of one who, in spite of his depraved
inferiority, is unquestionably your official superior, and could,
without any hesitation, condemn you to the tortures or even to
bowstringing on the spot?’

“‘Mandarin,’ exclaimed Ming-hi, stepping up to Chan Hung, and, without
any hesitation, pressing the gilt button which adorned the official’s
body garment, accompanying the action by a continuous muffled noise
which suggested the repeated striking of a hidden bell, ‘you wonder that
this person stands erect on your approach, neither rolling his lowered
head repeatedly from side to side, nor tracing circles in the dust
of Fow Hou with his submissive stomach? Know then, the meaning of the
proverb, “Distrust an inordinate appearance of servility. The estimable
person who retires from your presence walking backwards may adopt that
deferential manner in order to keep concealed the long double-edged
knife with which he had hoped to slay you.” The excessive amusement that
seized this offensive person when he beheld your well-defined figure in
the distance arose from his perception of your internal satisfaction,
which is, indeed, unmistakably reflected in your symmetrical
countenance. For, O Mandarin, in spite of your honourable endeavours
to turn things which are devious into a straight line, the matters upon
which you engage your versatile intellect--little as you suspect the
fact--are as grains of the finest Foo-chow sand in comparison with that
which escapes your attention.’

“‘Strange are your words, O Ming-hi, and dark to this person your
meaning,’ replied Chan Hung, whose feelings were evenly balanced between
a desire to know what thing he had neglected and a fear that his dignity
might suffer if he were observed to remain long conversing with a person
of Ming-hi’s low mental attainments. ‘Without delay, and with an entire
absence of lengthy and ornamental forms of speech, express the omission
to which you have made reference; for this person has an uneasy inside
emotion that you are merely endeavouring to engage his attention to
the end that you may make an unseemly and irrelevant reply, and thereby
involve him in an undeserved ridicule.’

“‘Such a device would be the pastime of one of immature years, and could
have no place in this person’s habit of conduct,’ replied Ming-hi, with
every appearance of a fixed sincerity. ‘Moreover, the matter is one
which touches his own welfare closely, and, expressed in the fashion
which the proficient Mandarin has commanded, may be set forth as
follows: By a wise and all-knowing divine system, it is arranged that
certain honourable occupations, which by their nature cannot become
remunerative to any marked degree, shall be singled out for special
marks of reverence, so that those who engage therein may be compensated
in dignity for what they must inevitably lack in taels. By this
refined dispensation the literary occupations, which are in general the
highroads to the Establishment of Public Support and Uniform Apparel,
are held in the highest veneration. Agriculture, from which it is
possible to wrest a competency, follows in esteem; while the various
branches of commerce, leading as they do to vast possessions and the
attendant luxury, are very justly deprived of all the attributes
of dignity and respect. Yet observe, O justice-loving Mandarin, how
unbecomingly this ingenious system of universal compensation has been
debased at the instance of grasping and avaricious ones. Dignity, riches
and ease now go hand in hand, and the highest rewarded in all matters
are also the most esteemed, whereas, if the discriminating provision of
those who have gone before and so arranged it was observed, the direct
contrary would be the case.’

“‘It is a state of things which is somewhat difficult to imagine in
general matters of life, in spite of the fair-seemingness of your
words,’ said the Mandarin thoughtfully; ‘nor can this rather obtuse and
slow-witted person fully grasp the practical application of the system
on the edge of the moment. In what manner would it operate in the case
of ordinary persons, for example?’

“‘There should be a fixed and settled arrangement that the low-minded
and degrading occupations--such as that of following charitable persons
from place to place, chanting verses composed in their honour, that of
misleading travellers who inquire the way, so that they fall into the
hands of robbers, and the like callings--should be the most highly
rewarded to the end that those who are engaged therein may obtain
some solace for the loss of dignity they experience, and the mean
intellectual position which they are compelled to maintain. By this
device they would be enabled to possess certain advantages and degrees
of comfort which at present are utterly beyond their grasp, so that in
the end they would escape being entirely debased. To turn to the other
foot, those who are now high in position, and engaged in professions
which enjoy the confidence of all persons, have that which in itself is
sufficient to insure contentment. Furthermore, the most proficient
and engaging in every department, mean or high-minded, have certain
attributes of respect among those beneath them, so that they might
justly be content with the lowest reward in whatever calling they
professed, the least skilful and most left-handed being compensated for
the mental anguish which they must undoubtedly suffer by receiving the
greatest number of taels.’

“‘Such a scheme would, as far as the matter has been expressed, appear
to possess all the claims of respect, and to be, indeed, what was
originally intended by those who framed the essentials of existence,’
said Chan Hung, when he had for some space of time considered the
details. ‘In one point, however, this person fails to perceive how
the arrangement could be amiably conducted in Fow Hou. The one who
is addressing you maintains, as a matter of right, a position of
exceptional respect, nor, if he must express himself upon such a detail,
are his excessively fatiguing duties entirely unremunerative...’

“‘In the case of the distinguished and unalterable Mandarin,’ exclaimed
Ming-hi, with no appearance of hesitation, ‘the matter would of
necessity be arranged otherwise. Being from that time, as it were, the
controller of the destinies and remunerations of all those in Fow Hou,
he would, manifestly, be outside the working of the scheme; standing
apart and regulating, like the person who turns the handle of the
corn-mill, but does not suffer himself to be drawn between the
stones, he could still maintain both his respect and his remuneration
unaltered.’

“‘If the detail could honourably be regarded in such a light,’ said Chan
Hung, ‘this person would, without delay, so rearrange matters in Fow
Hou, and thereby create universal justice and an unceasing contentment
within the minds of all.’

“‘Undoubtedly such a course could be justly followed,’ assented Ming-hi,
‘for in precisely that manner of working was the complete scheme
revealed to this highly-favoured person.’

“Entirely wrapped up in thoughts concerning the inception and manner of
operation of this project Chan Hung began to retrace his steps towards
the Yamen, failing to observe in his benevolent abstraction of mind,
that the unaffectedly depraved person Ming-hi was stretching out his
feet towards him and indulging in every other form of low-minded and
undignified contempt.

“Before he reached the door of his residence the Mandarin overtook
one who occupied a high position of confidence and remuneration in the
Department of Public Fireworks and Coloured Lights. Fully assured of
this versatile person’s enthusiasm on behalf of so humane and charitable
a device, Chan Hung explained the entire matter to him without delay,
and expressly desired that if there were any details which appeared
capable of improvement, he would declare himself clearly regarding them.

“‘Alas!’ exclaimed the person with whom the Mandarin was conversing,
speaking in so unfeignedly disturbed and terrified a voice that several
who were passing by stopped in order to learn the full circumstance,
‘have this person’s ears been made the object of some unnaturally
light-minded demon’s ill-disposed pastime, or does the usually
well-balanced Chan Hung in reality contemplate so violent and un-Chinese
an action? What but evil could arise from a single word of the change
which he proposes to the extent of a full written book? The entire fixed
nature of events would become reversed; persons would no longer be fully
accountable to one another; and Fow Hou being thus thrown into a most
unendurable state of confusion, the protecting Deities would doubtless
withdraw their influence, and the entire region would soon be given over
to the malicious guardianship of rapacious and evilly-disposed spirits.
Let this person entreat the almost invariably clear-sighted Chan Hung
to return at once to his adequately equipped and sumptuous Yamen, and
barring well the door of his inner chamber, so that it can only be
opened from the outside, partake of several sleeping essences of unusual
strength, after which he will awake in an undoubtedly refreshed state
of mind, and in a condition to observe matters with his accustomed
diamond-like penetration.’

“‘By no means!’ cried one of those who had stopped to learn the occasion
of the incident--a very inferior maker of unserviceable imitation
pigtails--‘the devout and conscientious-minded Mandarin Chan Hung speaks
as the inspired mouth-piece of the omnipotent Buddha, and must, for
that reason, be obeyed in every detail. This person would unhesitatingly
counsel the now invaluable Mandarin to proceed to his well-constructed
residence without delay, and there calling together his entire staff of
those who set down his spoken words, put the complete Heaven-sent
plan into operation, and beyond recall, before he retires to his inner
chamber.’

“Upon this there arose a most inelegant display of undignified emotions
on the part of the assembly which had by this time gathered together.
While those who occupied honourable and remunerative positions very
earnestly entreated the Mandarin to act in the manner which had been
suggested by the first speaker, others--who had, in the meantime, made
use of imagined figures, and thereby discovered that the proposed change
would be greatly to their advantage--raised shouts of encouragement
towards the proposal of the pigtail-maker, urging the noble Mandarin not
to become small in the face towards the insignificant few who were ever
opposed to enlightened reform, but to maintain an unflaccid upper lip,
and carry the entire matter through to its destined end. In the course
of this very unseemly tumult, which soon involved all persons present
in hostile demonstrations towards each other, both the Mandarin and
the official from the Fireworks and Coloured Lights Department found
an opportunity to pass away secretly, the former to consider well the
various sides of the matter, towards which he became better disposed
with every thought, the latter to find a purchaser of his appointment
and leave Fow Hou before the likelihood of Chan Hung’s scheme became
generally known.

“At this point an earlier circumstance, which affected the future
unrolling of events to no insignificant degree, must be made known,
concerning as it does Lila, the fair and very accomplished daughter
of Chan Hung. Possessing no son or heir to succeed him, the Mandarin
exhibited towards Lila a very unusual depth of affection, so marked,
indeed, that when certain evil-minded ones endeavoured to encompass
his degradation, on the plea of eccentricity of character, the written
papers which they dispatched to the high ones at Peking contained no
other accusation in support of the contention than that the individual
in question regarded his daughter with an obvious pride and pleasure
which no person of well-balanced intellect lavished on any but a son.

“It was his really conscientious desire to establish Lila’s welfare
above all things that had caused Chan Hung to become in some degree
undecided when conversing with Ming-hi on the detail of the scheme; for,
unaffected as the Mandarin himself would have been at the prospect of
an honourable poverty, it was no part of his intention that the adorable
and exceptionally-refined Lila should be drawn into such an existence.
That, indeed, had been the essential of his reply on a certain and not
far removed occasion, when two persons of widely differing positions
had each made a formal request that he might be allowed to present
marriage-pledging gifts to the very desirable Lila. Maintaining an
enlightened openness of mind upon the subject, the Mandarin had replied
that nothing but the merit of undoubted suitableness of a person would
affect him in such a decision. As it was ordained by the wise and
unchanging Deities that merit should always be fittingly rewarded,
he went on to express himself, and as the most suitable person was
obviously the one who could the most agreeably provide for her, the
two circumstances inevitably tended to the decision that the one chosen
should be the person who could amass the greatest number of taels. To
this end he instructed them both to present themselves at the end of
a year, bringing with them the entire profits of their undertakings
between the two periods.

“This deliberate pronouncement affected the two persons in question in
an entirely opposite manner, for one of them was little removed from a
condition of incessant and most uninviting poverty, while the other was
the very highly-rewarded picture-maker Pe-tsing. Both to this latter
person, and to the other one, Lee Sing, the ultimate conclusion of the
matter did not seem to be a question of any conjecture therefore, and,
in consequence, the one became most offensively self-confident, and
the other leaden-minded to an equal degree, neither remembering the
unswerving wisdom of the proverb, ‘Wait! all men are but as the black,
horn-cased beetles which overrun the inferior cooking-rooms of the city,
and even at this moment the heavily-shod and unerring foot of Buddha may
be lifted.’

“Lee Sing was, by profession, one of those who hunt and ensnare the
brilliantly-coloured winged insects which are to be found in various
parts of the Empire in great variety and abundance, it being his duty
to send a certain number every year to Peking to contribute to the
amusement of the dignified Emperor. In spite of the not too intelligent
nature of the occupation, Lee Sing took an honourable pride in all
matters connected with it. He disdained, with well-expressed contempt,
to avail himself of the stealthy and somewhat deceptive methods employed
by others engaged in a similar manner of life. In this way he had, from
necessity, acquired agility to an exceptional degree, so that he could
leap far into the air, and while in that position select from a passing
band of insects any which he might desire. This useful accomplishment
was, in a measure, the direct means of bringing together the person in
question and the engaging Lila; for, on a certain occasion, when Lee
Sing was passing through the streets of Fow Hou, he heard a great
outcry, and beheld persons of all ranks running towards him, pointing
at the same time in an upward direction. Turning his gaze in the manner
indicated, Lee beheld, with every variety of astonishment, a powerful
and unnaturally large bird of prey, carrying in its talons the
lovely and now insensible Lila, to whom it had been attracted by the
magnificence of her raiment. The rapacious and evilly-inspired creature
was already above the highest dwelling-houses when Lee first beheld it,
and was plainly directing its course towards the inaccessible mountain
crags beyond the city walls. Nevertheless, Lee resolved upon an
inspired effort, and without any hesitation bounded towards it with such
well-directed proficiency, that if he had not stretched forth his hand
on passing he would inevitably have been carried far above the desired
object. In this manner he succeeded in dragging the repulsive and
completely disconcerted monster to the ground, where its graceful and
unassuming prisoner was released, and the presumptuous bird itself
torn to pieces amid continuous shouts of a most respectful and engaging
description in honour of Lee and of his versatile attainment.

“In consequence of this incident the grateful Lila would often
deliberately leave the society of the rich and well-endowed in order
to accompany Lee on his journeys in pursuit of exceptionally-precious
winged insects. Regarding his unusual ability as the undoubted cause of
her existence at that moment, she took an all-absorbing pride in such
displays, and would utter loud and frequent exclamations of triumph when
Lee leaped out from behind some rock, where he had lain concealed, and
with unfailing regularity secured the object of his adroit movement. In
this manner a state of feeling which was by no means favourable to
the aspiring picture-maker Pe-tsing had long existed between the two
persons; but when Lee Sing put the matter in the form of an explicit
petition before Chan Hung (to which adequate reference has already been
made), the nature of the decision then arrived at seemed to clothe
the realization of their virtuous and estimable desires with an air of
extreme improbability.

“‘Oh, Lee,’ exclaimed the greatly-disappointed maiden when her lover had
explained to her the nature of the arrangement--for in her unassuming
admiration of the noble qualities of Lee she had anticipated that Chan
Hung would at once have received him with ceremonious embraces and
assurances of his permanent affection--‘how unendurable a state of
things is this in which we have become involved! Far removed from this
one’s anticipations was the thought of becoming inalienably associated
with that outrageous person Pe-tsing, or of entering upon an existence
which will necessitate a feigned admiration of his really unpresentable
efforts. Yet in such a manner must the entire circumstance complete its
course unless some ingenious method of evading it can be discovered in
the meantime. Alas, my beloved one! the occupation of ensnaring winged
insects is indeed an alluring one, but as far as this person has
observed, it is also exceedingly unproductive of taels. Could not some
more expeditious means of enriching yourself be discovered? Frequently
has the unnoticed but nevertheless very attentive Lila heard her father
and the round-bodied ones who visit him speak of exploits which seem
to consist of assuming the shapes of certain wild animals, and in that
guise appearing from time to time at the place of exchange within
the city walls. As this form of entertainment is undoubtedly very
remunerative in its results, could not the versatile and ready-witted
Lee conceal himself within the skin of a bear, or some other untamed
beast, and in this garb, joining them unperceived, play an appointed
part and receive a just share of the reward?’

“‘The result of such an enterprise might, if the matter chanced to take
an unforeseen development, prove of a very doubtful nature,’ replied
Lee Sing, to whom, indeed, the proposed venture appeared in a somewhat
undignified light, although, with refined consideration, he withheld
such a thought from Lila, who had proposed it for him, and also
confessed that her usually immaculate father had taken part in such an
exhibition. ‘Nevertheless, do not permit the dark shadow of an inward
cloud to reflect itself upon your almost invariably amiable countenance,
for this person has become possessed of a valuable internal suggestion
which, although he has hitherto neglected, being content with a small
but assured competency, would doubtless bring together a serviceable
number of taels if rightly utilized.’

“‘Greatly does this person fear that the valuable internal suggestion
of Lee Sing will weigh but lightly in the commercial balance against
the very rapidly executed pictures of Pe-tsing,’ said Lila, who had not
fully recalled from her mind a disturbing emotion that Lee would
have been well advised to have availed himself of her ingenious and
well-thought-out suggestion. ‘But of what does the matter consist?’

“‘It is the best explained by a recital of the circumstances leading up
to it,’ said Lee. ‘Upon an occasion when this person was passing through
the streets of Fow Hou, there gathered around him a company of those who
had, on previous occasions, beheld his exceptional powers of hurtling
himself through the air in an upward direction, praying that he would
again delight their senses by a similar spectacle. Not being unwilling
to afford those estimable persons of the amusement they desired, this
one, without any elaborate show of affected hesitancy, put himself
into the necessary position, and would without doubt have risen
uninterruptedly almost into the Middle Air, had he not, in making the
preparatory movements, placed his left foot upon an over-ripe wampee
which lay unperceived on the ground. In consequence of this really
blameworthy want of caution the entire manner and direction of this
short-sighted individual’s movements underwent a sudden and complete
change, so that to those who stood around it appeared as though he were
making a well-directed endeavour to penetrate through the upper surface
of the earth. This unexpected display had the effect of removing the
gravity of even the most aged and severe-minded persons present, and for
the space of some moments the behaviour and positions of those who stood
around were such that they were quite unable to render any assistance,
greatly as they doubtless wished to do so. Being in this manner allowed
a period for inward reflexion of a very concentrated order, it arose
within this one’s mind that at every similar occurrence which he had
witnessed, those who observed the event had been seized in a like
fashion, being very excessively amused. The fact was made even more
undoubted by the manner of behaving of an exceedingly stout and
round-faced person, who had not been present from the beginning, but who
was affected to a most incredible extent when the details, as they had
occurred, were made plain to him, he declaring, with many references to
the Sacred Dragon and the Seven Walled Temple at Peking, that he would
willingly have contributed a specified number of taels rather than
have missed the diversion. When at length this person reached his own
chamber, he diligently applied himself to the task of carrying into
practical effect the suggestion which had arisen in his mind. By an
arrangement of transparent glasses and reflecting surfaces--which, were
it not for a well-defined natural modesty, he would certainly be tempted
to describe as highly ingenious--he ultimately succeeded in bringing
about the effect he desired.’

“With these words Lee put into Lila’s hands an object which closely
resembled the contrivances by which those who are not sufficiently
powerful to obtain positions near the raised platform, in the Halls of
Celestial Harmony, are nevertheless enabled to observe the complexions
and attire of all around them. Regulating it by means of a hidden
spring, he requested her to follow closely the actions of a
heavily-burdened passerby who was at that moment some little distance
beyond them. Scarcely had Lila raised the glass to her eyes than she
became irresistibly amused to a most infectious degree, greatly to the
satisfaction of Lee, who therein beheld the realization of his hopes.
Not for the briefest space of time would she permit the object to pass
from her, but directed it at every person who came within her sight,
with frequent and unfeigned exclamations of wonder and delight.

“‘How pleasant and fascinating a device is this!’ exclaimed Lila at
length. ‘By what means is so diverting and gravity-removing a result
obtained?’

“‘Further than that it is the concentration of much labour of
continually trying with glasses and reflecting surfaces, this person is
totally unable to explain it,’ replied Lee. ‘The chief thing, however,
is that at whatever moving object it is directed--no matter whether a
person so observed is being carried in a chair, riding upon an animal,
or merely walking--at a certain point he has every appearance of being
unexpectedly hurled to the ground in a most violent and mirth-provoking
manner. Would not the stout and round-faced one, who would cheerfully
have contributed a certain number of taels to see this person manifest a
similar exhibition, unhesitatingly lay out that sum to secure the means
of so gratifying his emotions whenever he felt the desire, even with
the revered persons of the most dignified ones in the Empire? Is there,
indeed, a single person between the Wall and the Bitter Waters on the
South who is so devoid of ambition that he would miss the opportunity of
subjecting, as it were, perhaps even the sacred Emperor himself to the
exceptional feat?’

“‘The temptation to possess one would inevitably prove overwhelming to
any person of ordinary intelligence,’ admitted Lila. ‘Yet, in spite of
this one’s unassumed admiration for the contrivance, internal doubts
regarding the ultimate happiness of the two persons who are now
discussing the matter again attack her. She recollects, somewhat dimly,
an almost forgotten, but nevertheless, very unassailable proverb, which
declares that more contentment of mind can assuredly be obtained from
the unexpected discovery of a tael among the folds of a discarded
garment than could, in the most favourable circumstances, ensue from
the well-thought-out construction of a new and hitherto unknown
device. Furthermore, although the span of a year may seem unaccountably
protracted when persons who reciprocate engaging sentiments are
parted, yet when the acceptance or refusal of Pe-tsing’s undesirable
pledging-gifts hangs upon the accomplishment of a remote and not very
probable object within that period, it becomes as a breath of wind
passing through an autumn forest.’

“Since the day when Lila and Lee had sat together side by side, and
conversed in this unrestrained and irreproachable manner, the great
sky-lantern had many times been obscured for a period. Only an
insignificant portion of the year remained, yet the affairs of Lee Sing
were in no more prosperous a condition than before, nor had he found an
opportunity to set aside any store of taels. Each day the unsupportable
Pe-tsing became more and more obtrusive and self-conceited, even to
the extent of throwing far into the air coins of insignificant value
whenever he chanced to pass Lee in the street, at the same time urging
him to leap after them and thereby secure at least one or two pieces of
money against the day of calculating. In a similar but entirely opposite
fashion, Lila and Lee experienced the acutest pangs of an ever-growing
despair, until their only form of greeting consisted in gazing into each
other’s eyes with a soul-benumbing expression of self-reproach.

“Yet at this very time, when even the natural and unalterable powers
seemed to be conspiring against the success of Lee’s modest and
inoffensive hopes, an event was taking place which was shortly to
reverse the entire settled arrangement of persons and affairs, and
involved Fow Hou in a very inextricable state of uncertainty. For, not
to make a pretence of concealing a matter which has been already in part
revealed, the Mandarin Chan Hung had by this time determined to act in
the manner which Ming-hi had suggested; so that on a certain morning
Lee Sing was visited by two persons, bearing between them a very weighty
sack of taels, who also conveyed to him the fact that a like amount
would be deposited within his door at the end of each succeeding seven
days. Although Lee’s occupation had in the past been very meagrely
rewarded, either by taels or by honour, the circumstance which resulted
in his now receiving so excessively large a sum is not made clear until
the detail of Ming-hi’s scheme is closely examined. The matter then
becomes plain, for it had been suggested by that person that the most
proficient in any occupation should be rewarded to a certain extent,
and the least proficient to another stated extent, the original amounts
being reversed. When those engaged by Chang Hung to draw up the various
rates came to the profession of ensnaring winged insects, however, they
discovered that Lee Sing was the only one of that description in Fow
Hou, so that it became necessary in consequence to allot him a double
portion, one amount as the most proficient, and a much larger amount as
the least proficient.

“It is unnecessary now to follow the not altogether satisfactory
condition of affairs which began to exist in Fow Hou as soon as the
scheme was put into operation. The full written papers dealing with the
matter are in the Hall of Public Reference at Peking, and can be seen by
any person on the payment of a few taels to everyone connected with
the establishment. Those who found their possessions reduced thereby
completely overlooked the obvious justice of the arrangement, and
immediately began to take most severe measures to have the order put
aside; while those who suddenly and unexpectedly found themselves
raised to positions of affluence tended to the same end by conducting
themselves in a most incapable and undiscriminating manner. And during
the entire period that this state of things existed in Fow Hou the
really contemptible Ming-hi continually followed Chan Hung about from
place to place, spreading out his feet towards him, and allowing himself
to become openly amused to a most unseemly extent.

“Chief among those who sought to have the original manner of rewarding
persons again established was the picture-maker, Pe-tsing, who now found
himself in a condition of most abject poverty, so unbearable, indeed,
that he frequently went by night, carrying a lantern, in the hope that
he might discover some of the small pieces of money which he had been
accustomed to throw into the air on meeting Lee Sing. To his pangs of
hunger was added the fear that he would certainly lose Lila, so that
from day to day he redoubled his efforts, and in the end, by using false
statements and other artifices of a questionable nature, the party which
he led was successful in obtaining the degradation of Chan Hung and his
dismissal from office, together with an entire reversal of all his plans
and enactments.

“On the last day of the year which Chan Hung had appointed as the period
of test for his daughter’s suitors, the person in question was seated
in a chamber of his new abode--a residence of unassuming appearance but
undoubted comfort--surrounded by Lila and Lee, when the hanging curtains
were suddenly flung aside, and Pe-tsing, followed by two persons of low
rank bearing sacks of money, appeared among them.

“‘Chan Hung,’ he said at length, ‘in the past events arose which
compelled this person to place himself against you in your official
position. Nevertheless, he has always maintained towards you personally
an unchanging affection, and understanding full well that you are one of
those who maintain their spoken word in spite of all happenings, he has
now come to exhibit the taels which he has collected together, and to
claim the fulfilment of your deliberate promise.’

“With these words the commonplace picture-maker poured forth the
contents of the sacks, and stood looking at Lila in a most confident and
unprepossessing manner.

“‘Pe-tsing,’ replied Chan Hung, rising from his couch and speaking in so
severe and impressive a voice that the two servants of Pe-tsing at once
fled in great apprehension, ‘this person has also found it necessary, in
his official position, to oppose you; but here the similarity ends,
for, on his part, he has never felt towards you the remotest degree of
affection. Nevertheless, he is always desirous, as you say, that persons
should regard their spoken word, and as you seem to hold a promise
from the Chief Mandarin of Fow Hou regarding marriage-gifts towards
his daughter, he would advise you to go at once to that person.
A misunderstanding has evidently arisen, for the one whom you are
addressing is merely Chan Hung, and the words spoken by the Mandarin
have no sort of interest for him--indeed, he understands that all that
person’s acts have been reversed, so that he fails to see how anyone
at all can regard you and your claim in other than a gravity-removing
light. Furthermore, the maiden in question is now definitely and
irretrievably pledged to this faithful and successful one by my side,
who, as you will doubtless be gracefully overjoyed to learn, has
recently disposed of a most ingenious and diverting contrivance for an
enormous number of taels, so many, indeed, that both the immediate and
the far-distant future of all the persons who are here before you are
now in no sort of doubt whatever.’

“At these words the three persons whom he had interrupted again turned
their attention to the matter before them; but as Pe-tsing walked away,
he observed, though he failed to understand the meaning, that they all
raised certain objects to their eyes, and at once became amused to a
most striking and uncontrollable degree.”




V.
THE CONFESSION OF KAI LUNG


     Related by himself at Wu-whei when other matter failed him.

As Kai Lung, the story-teller, unrolled his mat and selected, with grave
deliberation, the spot under the mulberry-tree which would the longest
remain sheltered from the sun’s rays, his impassive eye wandered round
the thin circle of listeners who had been drawn together by his uplifted
voice, with a glance which, had it expressed his actual thoughts, would
have betrayed a keen desire that the assembly should be composed of
strangers rather than of his most consistent patrons, to whom his stock
of tales was indeed becoming embarrassingly familiar. Nevertheless, when
he began there was nothing in his voice but a trace of insufficiently
restrained triumph, such as might be fitly assumed by one who has
discovered and makes known for the first time a story by the renowned
historian Lo Cha.

“The adventures of the enlightened and nobly-born Yuin-Pel--”

“Have already thrice been narrated within Wu-whei by the versatile but
exceedingly uninventive Kai Lung,” remarked Wang Yu placidly. “Indeed,
has there not come to be a saying by which an exceptionally frugal
host’s rice, having undoubtedly seen the inside of the pot many times,
is now known in this town as Kai-Pel?”

“Alas!” exclaimed Kai Lung, “well was this person warned of Wu-whei
in the previous village, as a place of desolation and excessively
bad taste, whose inhabitants, led by an evil-minded maker of very
commonplace pipes, named Wang Yu, are unable to discriminate in all
matters not connected with the cooking of food and the evasion of just
debts. They at Shan Tzu hung on to my cloak as I strove to leave them,
praying that I would again entrance their ears with what they termed the
melodious word-music of this person’s inimitable version of the inspired
story of Yuin-Pel.”

“Truly the story of Yuin-Pel is in itself excellent,” interposed the
conciliatory Hi Seng; “and Kai Lung’s accomplishment of having three
times repeated it here without deviating in the particular of a single
word from the first recital stamps him as a story-teller of no ordinary
degree. Yet the saying ‘Although it is desirable to lose persistently
when playing at squares and circles with the broad-minded and sagacious
Emperor, it is none the less a fact that the observance of this
etiquette deprives the intellectual diversion of much of its interest
for both players,’ is no less true today than when the all knowing H’sou
uttered it.”

“They well said--they of Shan Tzu--that the people of Wu-whei were
intolerably ignorant and of low descent,” continued Kai Lung, without
heeding the interruption; “that although invariably of a timorous
nature, even to the extent of retiring to the woods on the approach of
those who select bowmen for the Imperial army, all they require in a
story is that it shall be garnished with deeds of bloodshed and violence
to the exclusion of the higher qualities of well-imagined metaphors and
literary style which alone constitute true excellence.”

“Yet it has been said,” suggested Hi Seng, “that the inimitable Kai
Lung can so mould a narrative in the telling that all the emotions
are conveyed therein without unduly disturbing the intellects of the
hearers.”

“O amiable Hi Seng,” replied Kai Lung with extreme affability,
“doubtless you are the most expert of water-carriers, and on a hot
and dusty day, when the insatiable desire of all persons is towards a
draught of unusual length without much regard to its composition, the
sight of your goat-skins is indeed a welcome omen; yet when in the
season of Cold White Rains you chance to meet the belated chair-carrier
who has been reluctantly persuaded into conveying persons beyond the
limit of the city, the solitary official watchman who knows that his
chief is not at hand, or a returning band of those who make a practise
of remaining in the long narrow rooms until they are driven forth at a
certain gong-stroke, can you supply them with the smallest portion of
that invigorating rice spirit for which alone they crave? From this
simple and homely illustration, specially conceived to meet the
requirements of your stunted and meagre understanding, learn not to
expect both grace and thorns from the willow-tree. Nevertheless, your
very immature remarks on the art of story-telling are in no degree more
foolish than those frequently uttered by persons who make a living by
such a practice; in proof of which this person will relate to the select
and discriminating company now assembled an entirely new and unrecorded
story--that, indeed, of the unworthy, but frequently highly-rewarded Kai
Lung himself.”

“The story of Kai Lung!” exclaimed Wang Yu. “Why not the story of Ting,
the sightless beggar, who has sat all his life outside the Temple of
Miraculous Cures? Who is Kai Lung, that he should have a story? Is he
not known to us all here? Is not his speech that of this Province, his
food mean, his arms and legs unshaven? Does he carry a sword or wear
silk raiment? Frequently have we seen him fatigued with journeying; many
times has he arrived destitute of money; nor, on those occasions when a
newly-appointed and unnecessarily officious Mandarin has commanded
him to betake himself elsewhere and struck him with a rod has Kai Lung
caused the stick to turn into a deadly serpent and destroy its master,
as did the just and dignified Lu Fei. How, then, can Kai Lung have a
story that is not also the story of Wang Yu and Hi Seng, and all others
here?”

“Indeed, if the refined and enlightened Wang Yu so decides, it must
assuredly be true,” said Kai Lung patiently; “yet (since even trifles
serve to dispel the darker thoughts of existence) would not the
history of so small a matter as an opium pipe chain his intelligent
consideration? such a pipe, for example, as this person beheld only
today exposed for sale, the bowl composed of the finest red clay,
delicately baked and fashioned, the long bamboo stem smoother than the
sacred tooth of the divine Buddha, the spreading support patiently and
cunningly carved with scenes representing the Seven Joys, and the Tenth
Hell of unbelievers.”

“Ah!” exclaimed Wang Yu eagerly, “it is indeed as you say, a Mandarin
among masterpieces. That pipe, O most unobserving Kai Lung, is the work
of this retiring and superficial person who is now addressing you, and,
though the fact evidently escaped your all-seeing glance, the place
where it is exposed is none other than his shop of ‘The Fountain of
Beauty,’ which you have on many occasions endowed with your honourable
presence.”

“Doubtless the carving is the work of the accomplished Wang Yu, and the
fitting together,” replied Kai Lung; “but the materials for so refined
and ornamental a production must of necessity have been brought many
thousand li; the clay perhaps from the renowned beds of Honan, the wood
from Peking, and the bamboo from one of the great forests of the North.”

“For what reason?” said Wang Yu proudly. “At this person’s very door
is a pit of red clay, purer and infinitely more regular than any to
be found at Honan; the hard wood of Wu-whei is extolled among carvers
throughout the Empire, while no bamboo is straighter or more smooth than
that which grows in the neighbouring woods.”

“O most inconsistent Wang Yu!” cried the story-teller, “assuredly a very
commendable local pride has dimmed your usually penetrating eyesight.
Is not the clay pit of which you speak that in which you fashioned
exceedingly unsymmetrical imitations of rat-pies in your childhood? How,
then, can it be equal to those of Honan, which you have never seen?
In the dark glades of these woods have you not chased the gorgeous
butterfly, and, in later years, the no less gaily attired maidens of
Wu-whei in the entrancing game of Kiss in the Circle? Have not the
bamboo-trees to which you have referred provided you with the ideal
material wherewith to roof over those cunningly-constructed pits into
which it has ever been the chief delight of the young and audacious to
lure dignified and unnaturally stout Mandarins? All these things you
have seen and used ever since your mother made a successful offering to
the Goddess Kum-Fa. How, then, can they be even equal to the products of
remote Honan and fabulous Peking? Assuredly the generally veracious Wang
Yu speaks this time with closed eyes and will, upon mature reflexion,
eat his words.”

The silence was broken by a very aged man who arose from among the
bystanders.

“Behold the length of this person’s pigtail,” he exclaimed, “the
whiteness of his moustaches and the venerable appearance of his beard!
There is no more aged person present--if, indeed, there be such a one
in all the Province. It accordingly devolves upon him to speak in this
matter, which shall be as follows: The noble-minded and proficient Kai
Lung shall relate the story as he has proposed, and the garrulous Wang
Yu shall twice contribute to Kai Lung’s bowl when it is passed round,
once for himself and once for this person, in order that he may learn
either to be more discreet or more proficient in the art of aptly
replying.”

“The events which it is this person’s presumptuous intention to describe
to this large-hearted and providentially indulgent gathering,” began
Kai Lung, when his audience had become settled, and the wooden bowl had
passed to and fro among them, “did not occupy many years, although they
were of a nature which made them of far more importance than all the
remainder of his existence, thereby supporting the sage discernment of
the philosopher Wen-weng, who first made the observation that man is
greatly inferior to the meanest fly, inasmuch as that creature, although
granted only a day’s span of life, contrives during that period to
fulfil all the allotted functions of existence.

“Unutterably to the astonishment and dismay of this person and all those
connected with him (for several of the most expensive readers of the
future to be found in the Empire had declared that his life would be
marked by great events, his career a source of continual wonder, and his
death a misfortune to those who had dealings with him) his efforts to
take a degree at the public literary competitions were not attended with
any adequate success. In view of the plainly expressed advice of his
father it therefore became desirable that this person should turn his
attention to some other method of regaining the esteem of those upon
whom he was dependent for all the necessaries of existence. Not having
the means wherewith to engage in any form of commerce, and being
entirely ignorant of all matters save the now useless details of
attempting to pass public examinations, he reluctantly decided that he
was destined to become one of those who imagine and write out stories
and similar devices for printed leaves and books.

“This determination was favourably received, and upon learning it, this
person’s dignified father took him aside, and with many assurances of
regard presented to him a written sentence, which, he said, would be of
incomparable value to one engaged in a literary career, and should
in fact, without any particular qualifications, insure an honourable
competency. He himself, he added, with what at the time appeared to
this one as an unnecessary regard for detail, having taken a very
high degree, and being in consequence appointed to a distinguished and
remunerative position under the Board of Fines and Tortures, had never
made any use of it.

“The written sentence, indeed, was all that it had been pronounced. It
had been composed by a remote ancestor, who had spent his entire life in
crystallizing all his knowledge and experience into a few written lines,
which as a result became correspondingly precious. It defined in a very
original and profound manner several undisputable principles, and was so
engagingly subtle in its manner of expression that the most superficial
person was irresistibly thrown into a deep inward contemplation upon
reading it. When it was complete, the person who had contrived this
ingenious masterpiece, discovering by means of omens that he still had
ten years to live, devoted each remaining year to the task of reducing
the sentence by one word without in any way altering its meaning. This
unapproachable example of conciseness found such favour in the eyes
of those who issue printed leaves that as fast as this person could
inscribe stories containing it they were eagerly purchased; and had it
not been for a very incapable want of foresight on this narrow-minded
individual’s part, doubtless it would still be affording him an
agreeable and permanent means of living.

“Unquestionably the enlightened Wen-weng was well acquainted with the
subject when he exclaimed, ‘Better a frugal dish of olives flavoured
with honey than the most sumptuously devised puppy-pie of which the
greater portion is sent forth in silver-lined boxes and partaken of
by others.’ At that time, however, this versatile saying--which so
gracefully conveys the truth of the undeniable fact that what a person
possesses is sufficient if he restrain his mind from desiring
aught else--would have been lightly treated by this self-conceited
story-teller even if his immature faculties had enabled him fully to
understand the import of so profound and well-digested a remark.

“At that time Tiao Ts’un was undoubtedly the most beautiful maiden in
all Peking. So frequently were the verses describing her habits and
appearances affixed in the most prominent places of the city, that many
persons obtained an honourable livelihood by frequenting those spots
and disposing of the sacks of written papers which they collected to
merchants who engaged in that commerce. Owing to the fame attained by
his written sentence, this really very much inferior being had many
opportunities of meeting the incomparable maiden Tiao at flower-feasts,
melon-seed assemblies, and those gatherings where persons of both sexes
exhibit themselves in revolving attitudes, and are permitted to embrace
openly without reproach; whereupon he became so subservient to her
charms and virtues that he lost no opportunity of making himself utterly
unendurable to any who might chance to speak to, or even gaze upon, this
Heaven-sent creature.

“So successful was this person in his endeavour to meet the sublime
Tiao and to gain her conscientious esteem that all emotions of prudence
forsook him, or it would soon have become apparent even to his enfeebled
understanding that such consistent good fortune could only be the work
of unforgiving and malignant spirits whose ill-will he had in some way
earned, and who were luring him on in order that they might accomplish
his destruction. That object was achieved on a certain evening when this
person stood alone with Tiao upon an eminence overlooking the city and
watched the great sky-lantern rise from behind the hills. Under these
delicate and ennobling influences he gave speech to many very ornamental
and refined thoughts which arose within his mind concerning the graceful
brilliance of the light which was cast all around, yet notwithstanding
which a still more exceptional and brilliant light was shining in his
own internal organs by reason of the nearness of an even purer and more
engaging orb. There was no need, this person felt, to hide even his most
inside thoughts from the dignified and sympathetic being at his side, so
without hesitation he spoke--in what he believes even now must have been
a very decorative manner--of the many thousand persons who were then
wrapped in sleep, of the constantly changing lights which appeared in
the city beneath, and of the vastness which everywhere lay around.

“‘O Kai Lung,’ exclaimed the lovely Tiao, when this person had made an
end of speaking, ‘how expertly and in what a proficient manner do you
express yourself, uttering even the sentiments which this person has
felt inwardly, but for which she has no words. Why, indeed, do you not
inscribe them in a book?’

“Under her elevating influence it had already occurred to this
illiterate individual that it would be a more dignified and, perhaps,
even a more profitable course for him to write out and dispose of, to
those who print such matters, the versatile and high-minded expressions
which now continually formed his thoughts, rather than be dependent upon
the concise sentence for which, indeed, he was indebted to the wisdom of
a remote ancestor. Tiao’s spoken word fully settled his determination,
so that without delay he set himself to the task of composing a story
which should omit the usual sentence, but should contain instead a large
number of his most graceful and diamond-like thoughts. So engrossed did
this near-sighted and superficial person become in the task (which daily
seemed to increase rather than lessen as new and still more sublime
images arose within his mind) that many months passed before the
matter was complete. In the end, instead of a story, it had assumed the
proportions of an important and many-volumed book; while Tiao had in the
meantime accepted the wedding gifts of an objectionable and excessively
round-bodied individual, who had amassed an inconceivable number of
taels by inducing persons to take part in what at first sight appeared
to be an ingenious but very easy competition connected with the order in
which certain horses should arrive at a given and clearly defined spot.
By that time, however, this unduly sanguine story-teller had become
completely entranced in his work, and merely regarded Tiao-Ts’un as a
Heaven-sent but no longer necessary incentive to his success. With
every hope, therefore, he went forth to dispose of his written leaves,
confident of finding some very wealthy person who would be in a
condition to pay him the correct value of the work.

“At the end of two years this somewhat disillusionized but still
undaunted person chanced to hear of a benevolent and unassuming body of
men who made a habit of issuing works in which they discerned merit,
but which, nevertheless, others were unanimous in describing as ‘of no
good.’ Here this person was received with gracious effusion, and
being in a position to impress those with whom he was dealing with his
undoubted knowledge of the subject, he finally succeeded in making a
very advantageous arrangement by which he was to pay one-half of the
number of taels expended in producing the work, and to receive in return
all the profits which should result from the undertaking. Those who
were concerned in the matter were so engagingly impressed with the
incomparable literary merit displayed in the production that they
counselled a great number of copies being made ready in order, as they
said, that this person should not lose by there being any delay
when once the accomplishment became the one topic of conversation in
tea-houses and yamens. From this cause it came about that the matter of
taels to be expended was much greater than had been anticipated at the
beginning, so that when the day arrived on which the volumes were to
be sent forth this person found that almost his last piece of money had
disappeared.

“Alas! how small a share has a person in the work of controlling his own
destiny. Had only the necessarily penurious and now almost degraded Kai
Lung been born a brief span before the great writer Lo Kuan Chang, his
name would have been received with every mark of esteem from one end of
the Empire to the other, while taels and honourable decorations would
have been showered upon him. For the truth, which could no longer be
concealed, revealed the fact that this inopportune individual possessed
a mind framed in such a manner that his thoughts had already been the
thoughts of the inspired Lo Kuan, who, as this person would not be so
presumptuous as to inform this ornamental and well-informed gathering,
was the most ingenious and versatile-minded composer of written words
that this Empire--and therefore the entire world--has seen, as, indeed,
his honourable title of ‘The Many-hued Mandarin Duck of the Yang-tse’
plainly indicates.

“Although this self-opinionated person had frequently been greatly
surprised himself during the writing of his long work by the brilliance
and manysidedness of the thoughts and metaphors which arose in his mind
without conscious effort, it was not until the appearance of the printed
leaves which make a custom of warning persons against being persuaded
into buying certain books that he definitely understood how all these
things had been fully expressed many dynasties ago by the all-knowing
Lo Kuan Chang, and formed, indeed, the great national standard of
unapproachable excellence. Unfortunately, this person had been so deeply
engrossed all his life in literary pursuits that he had never found an
opportunity to glance at the works in question, or he would have escaped
the embarrassing position in which he now found himself.

“It was with a hopeless sense of illness of ease that this unhappy one
reached the day on which the printed leaves already alluded to would
make known their deliberate opinion of his writing, the extremity of his
hope being that some would at least credit him with honourable motives,
and perhaps a knowledge that if the inspired Lo Kuan Chan had never
been born the entire matter might have been brought to a very different
conclusion. Alas! only one among the many printed leaves which
made reference to the venture contained any words of friendship or
encouragement. This benevolent exception was sent forth from a city
in the extreme Northern Province of the Empire, and contained many
inspiring though delicately guarded messages of hope for the one to whom
they gracefully alluded as ‘this undoubtedly youthful, but nevertheless,
distinctly promising writer of books.’ While admitting that altogether
they found the production undeniably tedious, they claimed to have
discovered indications of an obvious talent, and therefore they
unhesitatingly counselled the person in question to take courage at the
prospect of a moderate competency which was certainly within his grasp
if he restrained his somewhat over-ambitious impulses and closely
observed the simple subjects and manner of expression of their own Chang
Chow, whose ‘Lines to a Wayside Chrysanthemum,’ ‘Mongolians who Have,’
and several other composed pieces, they then set forth. Although it
became plain that the writer of this amiably devised notice was, like
this incapable person, entirely unacquainted with the masterpieces of
Lo Kuan Chang, yet the indisputable fact remained that, entirely on
its merit, the work had been greeted with undoubted enthusiasm, so that
after purchasing many examples of the refined printed leaf containing
it, this person sat far into the night continually reading over the one
unprejudiced and discriminating expression.

“All the other printed leaves displayed a complete absence of good
taste in dealing with the matter. One boldly asserted that the entire
circumstance was the outcome of a foolish jest or wager on the part of
a person who possessed a million taels; another predicted that it was a
cunning and elaborately thought-out method of obtaining the attention of
the people on the part of certain persons who claimed to vend a reliable
and fragrantly-scented cleansing substance. The _Valley of Hoang Rose
Leaves and Sweetness_ hoped, in a spirit of no sincerity, that the
ingenious Kai Lung would not rest on his tea-leaves, but would soon
send forth an equally entertaining amended example of the _Sayings of
Confucious_ and other sacred works, while the _Pure Essence of the Seven
Days’ Happenings_ merely printed side by side portions from the two
books under the large inscription, ‘IS THERE REALLY ANY NEED FOR US TO
EXPRESS OURSELVES MORE CLEARLY?’

“The disappointment both as regards public esteem and taels--for, after
the manner in which the work had been received by those who advise
on such productions, not a single example was purchased--threw this
ill-destined individual into a condition of most unendurable depression,
from which he was only aroused by a remarkable example of the unfailing
wisdom of the proverb which says ‘Before hastening to secure a possible
reward of five taels by dragging an unobservant person away from a
falling building, examine well his features lest you find, when too
late, that it is one to whom you are indebted for double that amount.’
Disappointed in the hope of securing large gains from the sale of his
great work, this person now turned his attention again to his former
means of living, only to find, however, that the discredit in which he
had become involved even attached itself to his concise sentence; for in
place of the remunerative and honourable manner in which it was formerly
received, it was now regarded on all hands with open suspicion. Instead
of meekly kow-towing to an evidently pre-arranged doom, the last
misfortune aroused this usually resigned story-teller to an ungovernable
frenzy. Regarding the accomplished but at the same time exceedingly
over-productive Lo Kuan Chang as the beginning of all his evils, he took
a solemn oath as a mark of disapproval that he had not been content to
inscribe on paper only half of his brilliant thoughts, leaving the other
half for the benefit of this hard-striving and equally well-endowed
individual, in which case there would have been a sufficiency of taels
and of fame for both.

“For a very considerable space of time this person could conceive no
method by which he might attain his object. At length, however, as
a result of very keen and subtle intellectual searching, and many
well-selected sacrifices, it was conveyed by means of a dream that
one very ingenious yet simple way was possible. The renowned and
universally-admired writings of the distinguished Lo Kuan for the most
part take their action within a few dynasties of their creator’s
own time: all that remained for this inventive person to accomplish,
therefore, was to trace out the entire matter, making the words and
speeches to proceed from the mouths of those who existed in still
earlier periods. By this crafty method it would at once appear as though
the not-too-original Lo Kuan had been indebted to one who came before
him for all his most subtle thoughts, and, in consequence, his tomb
would become dishonoured and his memory execrated. Without any delay
this person cheerfully set himself to the somewhat laborious task
before him. Lo Kuan’s well-known exclamation of the Emperor Tsing on the
battlefield of Shih-ho, ‘A sedan-chair! a sedan-chair! This person will
unhesitatingly exchange his entire and well-regulated Empire for such an
article,’ was attributed to an Emperor who lived several thousand years
before the treacherous and unpopular Tsing. The new matter of a no less
frequently quoted portion ran: ‘O nobly intentioned but nevertheless
exceedingly morose Tung-shin, the object before you is your
distinguished and evilly-disposed-of father’s honourably-inspired
demon,’ the change of a name effecting whatever alteration was
necessary; while the delicately-imagined speech beginning ‘The person
who becomes amused at matters resulting from double-edged knives has
assuredly never felt the effect of a well-directed blow himself’ was
taken from the mouth of one person and placed in that of one of his
remote ancestors. In such a manner, without in any great degree altering
the matter of Lo Kuan’s works, all the scenes and persons introduced
were transferred to much earlier dynasties than those affected by the
incomparable writer himself, the final effect being to give an air of
extreme unoriginality to his really undoubtedly genuine conceptions.

“Satisfied with his accomplishment, and followed by a hired person
of low class bearing the writings, which, by nature of the research
necessary in fixing the various dates and places so that even the wary
should be deceived, had occupied the greater part of a year, this now
fully confident story-teller--unmindful of the well-tried excellence of
the inspired saying, ‘Money is hundred-footed; upon perceiving a
tael lying apparently unobserved upon the floor, do not lose the time
necessary in stooping, but quickly place your foot upon it, for one
fails nothing in dignity thereby; but should it be a gold piece,
distrust all things, and valuing dignity but as an empty name, cast your
entire body upon it’--went forth to complete his great task of finally
erasing from the mind and records of the Empire the hitherto venerated
name of Lo Kuan Chang. Entering the place of commerce of the one who
seemed the most favourable for the purpose, he placed the facts as they
would in future be represented before him, explained the undoubtedly
remunerative fame that would ensue to all concerned in the enterprise
of sending forth the printed books in their new form, and, opening at a
venture the written leaves which he had brought with him, read out the
following words as an indication of the similarity of the entire work:

  “‘_Whai-Keng_. Friends, Chinamen, labourers who are engaged in
  agricultural pursuits, entrust to this person your acute and
  well-educated ears;

  “‘He has merely come to assist in depositing the body of Ko’ung in
  the Family Temple, not for the purpose of making remarks about him
  of a graceful and highly complimentary nature;

  “‘The unremunerative actions of which persons may have been guilty
  possess an exceedingly undesirable amount of endurance;

  “‘The successful and well-considered almost invariably are
  involved in a directly contrary course;

  “‘This person desires nothing more than a like fate to await
  Ko’ung.’

“When this one had read so far, he paused in order to give the other
an opportunity of breaking in and offering half his possessions to
be allowed to share in the undertaking. As he remained unaccountably
silent, however, an inelegant pause occurred which this person at length
broke by desiring an expressed opinion on the matter.

“‘O exceedingly painstaking, but nevertheless highly inopportune Kai
Lung,’ he replied at length, while in his countenance this person
read an expression of no-encouragement towards his venture, ‘all your
entrancing efforts do undoubtedly appear to attract the undesirable
attention of some spiteful and tyrannical demon. This closely-written
and elaborately devised work is in reality not worth the labour of a
single stroke, nor is there in all Peking a sender forth of printed
leaves who would encourage any project connected with its issue.’

“‘But the importance of such a fact as that which would clearly show the
hitherto venerated Lo Kuan Chang to be a person who passed off as his
own the work of an earlier one!’ cried this person in despair, well
knowing that the deliberately expressed opinion of the one before him
was a matter that would rule all others. ‘Consider the interest of the
discovery.’

“‘The interest would not demand more than a few lines in the ordinary
printed leaves,’ replied the other calmly. ‘Indeed, in a manner of
speaking, it is entirely a detail of no consequence whether or not the
sublime Lo Kuan ever existed. In reality his very commonplace name may
have been simply Lung; his inspired work may have been written a score
of dynasties before him by some other person, or they may have been
composed by the enlightened Emperor of the period, who desired to
conceal the fact, yet these matters would not for a moment engage the
interest of any ordinary passer-by. Lo Kuan Chang is not a person in the
ordinary expression; he is an embodiment of a distinguished and utterly
unassailable national institution. The Heaven-sent works with which
he is, by general consent, connected form the necessary unchangeable
standard of literary excellence, and remain for ever above rivalry and
above mistrust. For this reason the matter is plainly one which does not
interest this person.’

“In the course of a not uneventful existence this self-deprecatory
person has suffered many reverses and disappointments. During his youth
the high-minded Empress on one occasion stopped and openly complimented
him on the dignified outline presented by his body in profile, and when
he was relying upon this incident to secure him a very remunerative
public office, a jealous and powerful Mandarin substituted a somewhat
similar, though really very much inferior, person for him at the
interview which the Empress had commanded. Frequently in matters of
commerce which have appeared to promise very satisfactorily at the
beginning this person has been induced to entrust sums of money to
others, when he had hoped from the indications and the manner of
speaking that the exact contrary would be the case; and in one
instance he was released at a vast price from the torture dungeon in
Canton--where he had been thrown by the subtle and unconscientious
plots of one who could not relate stories in so accurate and unvarying
a manner as himself--on the day before that on which all persons were
freely set at liberty on account of exceptional public rejoicing. Yet in
spite of these and many other very unendurable incidents, this impetuous
and ill-starred being never felt so great a desire to retire to a
solitary place and there disfigure himself permanently as a mark of
his unfeigned internal displeasure, as on the occasion when he endured
extreme poverty and great personal inconvenience for an entire year in
order that he might take away face from the memory of a person who was
so placed that no one expressed any interest in the matter.

“Since then this very ill-clad and really necessitous person has
devoted himself to the honourable but exceedingly arduous and in general
unremunerative occupation of story-telling. To this he would add nothing
save that not infrequently a nobly-born and highly-cultured audience
is so entranced with his commonplace efforts to hold the attention,
especially when a story not hitherto known has been related, that in
order to afford it an opportunity of expressing its gratification, he
has been requested to allow another offering to be made by all persons
present at the conclusion of the entertainment.”




VI.
THE VENGEANCE OF TUNG FEL


For a period not to be measured by days or weeks the air of Ching-fow
had been as unrestful as that of the locust plains beyond the Great
Wall, for every speech which passed bore two faces, one fair to hear,
as a greeting, but the other insidiously speaking behind a screen, of
rebellion, violence, and the hope of overturning the fixed order of
events. With those whom they did not mistrust of treachery persons spoke
in low voices of definite plans, while at all times there might appear
in prominent places of the city skilfully composed notices setting
forth great wrongs and injustices towards which resignation and a lowly
bearing were outwardly counselled, yet with the same words cunningly
inflaming the minds, even of the patient, as no pouring out of
passionate thoughts and undignified threatenings could have done. Among
the people, unknown, unseen, and unsuspected, except to the proved ones
to whom they desired to reveal themselves, moved the agents of the Three
Societies. While to the many of Ching-fow nothing was desired or even
thought of behind the downfall of their own officials, and, chief of
all, the execution of the evil-minded and depraved Mandarin Ping Siang,
whose cruelties and extortions had made his name an object of wide and
deserved loathing, the agents only regarded the city as a bright spot in
the line of blood and fire which they were fanning into life from Peking
to Canton, and which would presumably burst forth and involve the entire
Empire.

Although it had of late become a plain fact, by reason of the manner
of behaving of the people, that events of a sudden and turbulent nature
could not long be restrained, yet outwardly there was no exhibition of
violence, not even to the length of resisting those whom Ping Siang sent
to enforce his unjust demands, chiefly because a well-founded whisper
had been sent round that nothing was to be done until Tung Fel should
arrive, which would not be until the seventh day in the month of Winged
Dragons. To this all persons agreed, for the more aged among them,
who, by virtue of their years, were also the formers of opinion in all
matters, called up within their memories certain events connected with
the two persons in question which appeared to give to Tung Fel the
privilege of expressing himself clearly when the matter of finally
dealing with the malicious and self-willed Mandarin should be engaged
upon.

Among the mountains which enclose Ching-fow on the southern side dwelt
a jade-seeker, who also kept goats. Although a young man and entirely
without relations, he had, by patient industry, contrived to collect
together a large flock of the best-formed and most prolific goats to be
found in the neighbourhood, all the money which he received in exchange
for jade being quickly bartered again for the finest animals which he
could obtain. He was dauntless in penetrating to the most inaccessible
parts of the mountains in search of the stone, unfailing in his skilful
care of the flock, in which he took much honourable pride, and on all
occasions discreet and unassumingly restrained in his discourse and
manner of life. Knowing this to be his invariable practice, it was with
emotions of an agreeable curiosity that on the seventh day of the month
of Winged Dragons those persons who were passing from place to place in
the city beheld this young man, Yang Hu, descending the mountain path
with unmistakable signs of profound agitation, and an entire absence of
prudent care. Following him closely to the inner square of the city, on
the continually expressed plea that they themselves had business in
that quarter, these persons observed Yang Hu take up a position of
unendurable dejection as he gazed reproachfully at the figure of the
all-knowing Buddha which surmounted the Temple where it was his custom
to sacrifice.

“Alas!” he exclaimed, lifting up his voice, when it became plain that
a large number of people was assembled awaiting his words, “to what end
does a person strive in this excessively evilly-regulated district? Or
is it that this obscure and ill-destined one alone is marked out as with
a deep white cross for humiliation and ruin? Father, and Sacred Temple
of Ancestral Virtues, wherein the meanest can repose their trust, he has
none; while now, being more destitute than the beggar at the gate, the
hope of honourable marriage and a robust family of sons is more remote
than the chance of finding the miracle-working Crystal Image which marks
the last footstep of the Pure One. Yesterday this person possessed no
secret store of silver or gold, nor had he knowledge of any special
amount of jade hidden among the mountains, but to his call there
responded four score goats, the most select and majestic to be found in
all the Province, of which, nevertheless, it was his yearly custom to
sacrifice one, as those here can testify, and to offer another as a duty
to the Yamen of Ping Siang, in neither case opening his eyes widely when
the hour for selecting arrived. Yet in what an unseemly manner is his
respectful piety and courteous loyalty rewarded! To-day, before this
person went forth on his usual quest, there came those bearing written
papers by which they claimed, on the authority of Ping Siang, the
whole of this person’s flock, as a punishment and fine for his not
contributing without warning to the Celebration of Kissing the Emperor’s
Face--the very obligation of such a matter being entirely unknown to
him. Nevertheless, those who came drove off this person’s entire
wealth, the desperately won increase of a life full of great toil and
uncomplainingly endured hardship, leaving him only his cave in the
rocks, which even the most grasping of many-handed Mandarins cannot
remove, his cloak of skins, which no beggar would gratefully receive,
and a bright and increasing light of deep hate scorching within his mind
which nothing but the blood of the obdurate extortioner can efficiently
quench. No protection of charms or heavily-mailed bowmen shall
avail him, for in his craving for just revenge this person will meet
witchcraft with a Heaven-sent cause and oppose an unsleeping subtlety
against strength. Therefore let not the innocent suffer through an
insufficient understanding, O Divine One, but direct the hand of your
faithful worshipper towards the heart that is proud in tyranny, and
holds as empty words the clearly defined promise of an all-seeing
justice.”

Scarcely had Yang Hu made an end of speaking before there happened an
event which could be regarded in no other light than as a direct answer
to his plainly expressed request for a definite sign. Upon the clear
air, which had become unnaturally still at Yang Hu’s words, as though
to remove any chance of doubt that this indeed was the requested answer,
came the loud beating of many very powerful brass gongs, indicating the
approach of some person of undoubted importance. In a very brief period
the procession reached the square, the gong-beaters being followed
by persons carrying banners, bowmen in armour, others bearing various
weapons and instruments of torture, slaves displaying innumerable
changes of raiment to prove the rank and consequence of their master,
umbrella carriers and fan wavers, and finally, preceded by incense
burners and surrounded by servants who cleared away all obstructions by
means of their formidable and heavily knotted lashes, the unworthy and
deceitful Mandarin Ping Siang, who sat in a silk-hung and elaborately
wrought chair, looking from side to side with gestures and expressions
of contempt and ill-restrained cupidity.

At the sign of this powerful but unscrupulous person all those who were
present fell upon their faces, leaving a broad space in their midst,
except Yang Hu, who stepped back into the shadow of a doorway, being
resolved that he would not prostrate himself before one whom Heaven had
pointed out as the proper object of his just vengeance.

When the chair of Ping Siang could no longer be observed in the
distance, and the sound of his many gongs had died away, all the persons
who had knelt at his approach rose to their feet, meeting each other’s
eyes with glances of assured and profound significance. At length there
stepped forth an exceedingly aged man, who was generally believed to
have the power of reading omens and forecasting futures, so that at his
upraised hand all persons became silent.

“Behold!” he exclaimed, “none can turn aside in doubt from the
deliberately pointed finger of Buddha. Henceforth, in spite of the
well-intentioned suggestions of those who would shield him under the
plea of exacting orders from high ones at Peking or extortions practised
by slaves under him of which he is ignorant, there can no longer be any
two voices concerning the guilty one. Yet what does the knowledge of
the cormorant’s cry avail the golden carp in the shallow waters of the
Yuen-Kiang? A prickly mormosa is an adequate protection against a naked
man armed only with a just cause, and a company of bowmen has been known
to quench an entire city’s Heaven-felt desire for retribution. This
person, and doubtless others also, would have experienced a more
heartfelt enthusiasm in the matter if the sublime and omnipotent
Buddha had gone a step further, and pointed out not only the one to
be punished, but also the instrument by which the destiny could be
prudently and effectively accomplished.”

From the mountain path which led to Yang Hu’s cave came a voice, like
an expressly devised reply to this speech. It was that of some person
uttering the “Chant of Rewards and Penalties”:

  “How strong is the mountain sycamore!
  “Its branches reach the Middle Air, and the eye of none can pierce
      its foliage;
  “It draws power and nourishment from all around, so that weeds
      alone may flourish under its shadow.
  “Robbers find safety within the hollow of its trunk; its branches
      hide vampires and all manner of evil things which prey upon
      the innocent;
  “The wild boar of the forest sharpen their tusks against the bark,
      for it is harder than flint, and the axe of the woodsman turns
      back upon the striker.
  “Then cries the sycamore, ‘Hail and rain have no power against me,
      nor can the fiercest sun penetrate beyond my outside fringe;
  “‘The man who impiously raises his hand against me falls by his
      own stroke and weapon.
  “‘Can there be a greater or a more powerful than this one?
      Assuredly, _I_ am Buddha; let all things obey me.’
  “Whereupon the weeds bow their heads, whispering among themselves,
      ‘The voice of the Tall One we hear, but not that of Buddha.
      Indeed, it is doubtless as he says.’
  “In his musk-scented Heaven Buddha laughs, and not deigning to
      raise his head from the lap of the Phœnix Goddess, he thrusts
      forth a stone which lies by his foot.
  “Saying, ‘A god’s present for a god. Take it carefully, O
      presumptuous Little One, for it is hot to the touch.’
  “The thunderbolt falls and the mighty tree is rent in twain. ‘They
      asked for my messenger,’ said the Pure One, turning again to
      repose.
  “_Lo, he comes_!”

With the last spoken word there came into the sight of those who were
collected together a person of stern yet engaging appearance. His hands
and face were the colour of mulberry stain by long exposure to the sun,
while his eyes looked forth like two watch-fires outside a wolf-haunted
camp. His long pigtail was tangled with the binding tendrils of the
forest, and damp with the dew of an open couch. His apparel was in no
way striking or brilliant, yet he strode with the dignity and air of a
high official, pushing before him a covered box upon wheels.

“It is Tung Fel!” cried many who stood there watching his approach,
in tones which showed those who spoke to be inspired by a variety of
impressive emotions. “Undoubtedly this is the seventh day of the month
of Winged Dragons, and, as he specifically stated would be the case, lo!
he has come.”

Few were the words of greeting which Tung Fel accorded even to the most
venerable of those who awaited him.

“This person has slept, partaken of fruit and herbs, and devoted an
allotted time to inward contemplation,” he said briefly. “Other and
more weighty matters than the exchange of dignified compliments and the
admiration of each other’s profiles remain to be accomplished. What, for
example, is the significance of the written parchment which is displayed
in so obtrusive a manner before our eyes? Bring it to this person
without delay.”

At these words all those present followed Tung Fel’s gaze with
astonishment, for conspicuously displayed upon the wall of the Temple
was a written notice which all joined in asserting had not been there
the moment before, though no man had approached the spot. Nevertheless
it was quickly brought to Tung Fel, who took it without any fear or
hesitation and read aloud the words which it contained.

           “TO THE CUSTOM-RESPECTING PERSONS OF CHING-FOW.

  “Truly the span of existence of any upon this earth is brief and
  not to be considered; therefore, O unfortunate dwellers of
  Ching-fow, let it not affect your digestion that your bodies are
  in peril of sudden and most excruciating tortures and your Family
  Temples in danger of humiliating disregard.

  “Why do your thoughts follow the actions of the noble Mandarin
  Ping Siang so insidiously, and why after each unjust exaction do
  your eyes look redly towards the Yamen?

  “Is he not the little finger of those at Peking, obeying their
  commands and only carrying out the taxation which others have
  devised? Indeed, he himself has stated such to be the fact. If,
  therefore, a terrible and unforeseen fate overtook the usually
  cautious and well-armed Ping Siang, doubtless--perhaps after the
  lapse of some considerable time--another would be sent from Peking
  for a like purpose, and in this way, after a too-brief period of
  heaven-sent rest and prosperity, affairs would regulate themselves
  into almost as unendurable a condition as before.

  “Therefore ponder these things well, O passer-by. Yesterday the
  only man-child of Huang the wood-carver was taken away to be sold
  into slavery by the emissaries of the most just Ping Siang (who
  would not have acted thus, we are assured, were it not for the
  insatiable ones at Peking), as it had become plain that the very
  necessitous Huang had no other possession to contribute to the
  amount to be expended in coloured lights as a mark of public
  rejoicing on the occasion of the moonday of the sublime Emperor.
  The illiterate and prosaic-minded Huang, having in a most unseemly
  manner reviled and even assailed those who acted in the matter,
  has been effectively disposed of, and his wife now alternately
  laughs and shrieks in the Establishment of Irregular Intellects.

  “For this reason, gazer, and because the matter touches you more
  closely than, in your self-imagined security, you are prone to
  think, deal expediently with the time at your disposal. Look twice
  and lingeringly to-night upon the face of your first-born, and
  clasp the form of your favourite one in a closer embrace, for he
  by whose hand the blow is directed may already have cast devouring
  eyes upon their fairness, and to-morrow he may say to his armed
  men: ‘The time is come; bring her to me.’”

“From the last sentence of the well-intentioned and undoubtedly
moderately-framed notice this person will take two phrases,” remarked
Tung Fel, folding the written paper and placing it among his
garments, “which shall serve him as the title of the lifelike and
accurately-represented play which it is his self-conceited intention
now to disclose to this select and unprejudiced gathering. The scene
represents an enlightened and well-merited justice overtaking an
arrogant and intolerable being who--need this person add?--existed many
dynasties ago, and the title is:

                         “THE TIME IS COME!
                           BY WHOSE HAND?”

Delivering himself in this manner, Tung Fel drew back the hanging
drapery which concealed the front of his large box, and disclosed to
those who were gathered round, not, as they had expected, a passage
from the Record of the Three Kingdoms, or some other dramatic work of
undoubted merit, but an ingeniously constructed representation of a
scene outside the walls of their own Ching-fow. On one side was a small
but minutely accurate copy of a wood-burner’s hut, which was known to
all present, while behind stood out the distant but nevertheless
unmistakable walls of the city. But it was the nearest part of the
spectacle that first held the attention of the entranced beholders, for
there disported themselves, in every variety of guileless and
attractive attitude, a number of young and entirely unconcerned doves.
Scarcely had the delighted onlookers fully observed the pleasing and
effective scene, or uttered their expressions of polished satisfaction
at the graceful and unassuming behaviour of the pretty creatures before
them, than the view entirely changed, and, as if by magic, the massive
and inelegant building of Ping Siang’s Yamen was presented before them.
As all gazed, astonished, the great door of the Yamen opened
stealthily, and without a moment’s pause a lean and ill-conditioned
rat, of unnatural size and rapacity, dashed out and seized the most
select and engaging of the unsuspecting prey in its hungry jaws. With
the expiring cry of the innocent victim the entire box was immediately,
and in the most unexpected manner, involved in a profound darkness,
which cleared away as suddenly and revealed the forms of the despoiler
and the victim lying dead by each other’s side.

Tung Fel came forward to receive the well-selected compliments of all
who had witnessed the entertainment.

“It may be objected,” he remarked, “that the play is, in a manner of
expressing one’s self, incomplete; for it is unrevealed by whose hand
the act of justice was accomplished. Yet in this detail is the accuracy
of the representation justified, for though the time has come, the hand
by which retribution is accorded shall never be observed.”

In such a manner did Tung Fel come to Ching-fow on the seventh day of
the month of Winged Dragons, throwing aside all restraint, and no longer
urging prudence or delay. Of all the throng which stood before him
scarcely one was without a deep offence against Ping Siang, while those
who had not as yet suffered feared what the morrow might display.

A wandering monk from the Island of Irredeemable Plagues was the first
to step forth in response to Tung Fel’s plainly understood suggestion.

“There is no necessity for this person to undertake further acts of
benevolence,” he remarked, dropping the cloak from his shoulder and
displaying the hundred and eight scars of extreme virtue; “nor,” he
continued, holding up his left hand, from which three fingers were burnt
away, “have greater endurances been neglected. Yet the matter before
this distinguished gathering is one which merits the favourable
consideration of all persons, and this one will in no manner turn away,
recounting former actions, while he allows others to press forward
towards the accomplishment of the just and divinely-inspired act.”

With these words the devout and unassuming person in question inscribed
his name upon a square piece of rice-paper, attesting his sincerity to
the fixed purpose for which it was designed by dipping his thumb into
the mixed blood of the slain animals and impressing this unalterable
seal upon the paper also. He was followed by a seller of drugs and
subtle medicines, whose entire stock had been seized and destroyed by
order of Ping Siang, so that no one in Ching-fow might obtain poison
for his destruction. Then came an overwhelming stream of persons, all of
whom had received some severe and well-remembered injury at the hands
of the malicious and vindictive Mandarin. All these followed a similar
observance, inscribing their names and binding themselves by the Blood
Oath. Last of all Yang Hu stepped up, partly from a natural modesty
which restrained him from offering himself when so many more versatile
persons of proved excellence were willing to engage in the matter, and
partly because an ill-advised conflict was taking place within his mind
as to whether the extreme course which was contemplated was the most
expedient to pursue. At last, however, he plainly perceived that he
could not honourably withhold himself from an affair that was in a
measure the direct outcome of his own unendurable loss, so that without
further hesitation he added his obscure name to the many illustrious
ones already in Tung Fel’s keeping.

When at length dark fell upon the city and the cries of the watchmen,
warning all prudent ones to bar well their doors against robbers,
as they themselves were withdrawing until the morrow, no longer rang
through the narrow ways of Ching-fow, all those persons who had pledged
themselves by name and seal went forth silently, and came together at
the place whereof Tung Fel had secretly conveyed them knowledge. There
Tung Fel, standing somewhat apart, placed all the folded papers in the
form of a circle, and having performed over them certain observances
designed to insure a just decision and to keep away evil influences,
submitted the selection to the discriminating choice of the Sacred
Flat and Round Sticks. Having in this manner secured the name of
the appointed person who should carry out the act of justice and
retribution, Tung Fel unfolded the paper, inscribed certain words upon
it, and replaced it among the others.

“The moment before great deeds,” began Tung Fel, stepping forward and
addressing himself to the expectant ones who were gathered round, “is
not the time for light speech, nor, indeed, for sentences of dignified
length, no matter how pleasantly turned to the ear they may be. Before
this person stand many who are undoubtedly illustrious in various
arts and virtues, yet one among them is pre-eminently marked out for
distinction in that his name shall be handed down in imperishable
history as that of a patriot of a pure-minded and uncompromising degree.
With him there is no need of further speech, and to this end I have
inscribed certain words upon his namepaper. To everyone this person will
now return the paper which has been entrusted to him, folded so that
the nature of its contents shall be an unwritten leaf to all others. Nor
shall the papers be unfolded by any until he is within his own chamber,
with barred doors, where all, save the one who shall find the message,
shall remain, not venturing forth until daybreak. I, Tung Fel, have
spoken, and assuredly I shall not eat my word, which is that a certain
and most degrading death awaits any who transgress these commands.”

It was with the short and sudden breath of the cowering antelope when
the stealthy tread of the pitiless tiger approaches its lair, that Yang
Hu opened his paper in the seclusion of his own cave; for his mind was
darkened with an inspired inside emotion that he, the one doubting among
the eagerly proffering and destructively inclined multitude, would
be chosen to accomplish the high aim for which, indeed, he felt
exceptionally unworthy. The written sentence which he perceived
immediately upon unfolding the paper, instructing him to appear again
before Tung Fel at the hour of midnight, was, therefore, nothing but
the echo and fulfilment of his own thoughts, and served in reality to
impress his mind with calmer feelings of dignified unconcern than would
have been the case had he not been chosen. Having neither possessions
nor relations, the occupation of disposing of his goods and making
ceremonious and affectionate leavetakings of his family, against the
occurrence of any unforeseen disaster, engrossed no portion of Yang Hu’s
time. Yet there was one matter to which no reference has yet been made,
but which now forces itself obtrusively upon the attention, which was
in a large measure responsible for many of the most prominent actions
of Yang Hu’s life, and, indeed, in no small degree influenced his
hesitation in offering himself before Tung Fel.

Not a bowshot distance from the place where the mountain path entered
the outskirts of the city lived Hiya-ai-Shao with her parents, who
were persons of assured position, though of no particular wealth. For a
period not confined to a single year it had been the custom of Yang Hu
to offer to this elegant and refined maiden all the rarest pieces
of jade which he could discover, while the most symmetrical and
remunerative she-goat in his flock enjoyed the honourable distinction of
bearing her incomparable name. Towards the almond garden of Hiya’s abode
Yang Hu turned his footsteps upon leaving his cave, and standing there,
concealed from all sides by the white and abundant flower-laden foliage,
he uttered a sound which had long been an agreed signal between them.
Presently a faint perfume of choo-lan spoke of her near approach, and
without delay Hiya herself stood by his side.

“Well-endowed one,” said Yang Hu, when at length they had gazed upon
each other’s features and made renewals of their protestations of mutual
regard, “the fixed intentions of a person have often been fitly likened
to the seed of the tree-peony, so ineffectual are their efforts among
the winds of constantly changing circumstance. The definite hope of
this person had long pointed towards a small but adequate habitation,
surrounded by sweet-smelling olive-trees and not far distant from the
jade cliffs and pastures which would afford a sufficient remuneration
and a means of living. This entrancing picture has been blotted out for
the time, and in its place this person finds himself face to face with
an arduous and dangerous undertaking, followed, perhaps, by hasty and
immediate flight. Yet if the adorable Hiya will prove the unchanging
depths of her constantly expressed intention by accompanying him as
far as the village of Hing where suitable marriage ceremonies can be
observed without delay, the exile will in reality be in the nature of
a triumphal procession, and the emotions with which this person has
hitherto regarded the entire circumstance will undergo a complete and
highly accomplished change.”

“Oh, Yang!” exclaimed the maiden, whose feelings at hearing these words
were in no way different from those of her lover when he was on the
point of opening the folded paper upon which Tung Fel had written; “what
is the nature of the mission upon which you are so impetuously resolved?
and why will it be followed by flight?”

“The nature of the undertaking cannot be revealed by reason of a
deliberately taken oath,” replied Yang Hu; “and the reason of its
possible consequence is a less important question to the two persons who
are here conversing together than of whether the amiable and graceful
Hiya is willing to carry out her often-expressed desire for an
opportunity of displaying the true depths of her emotions towards this
one.”

“Alas!” said Hiya, “the sentiments which this person expressed with
irreproachable honourableness when the sun was high in the heavens and
the probability of secretly leaving an undoubtedly well-appointed home
was engagingly remote, seem to have an entirely different significance
when recalled by night in a damp orchard, and on the eve of their
fulfilment. To deceive one’s parents is an ignoble prospect;
furthermore, it is often an exceedingly difficult undertaking. Let the
matter be arranged in this way: that Yang leaves the ultimate details
of the scheme to Hiya’s expedient care, he proceeding without delay
to Hing, or, even more desirable, to the further town of Liyunnan,
and there awaiting her coming. By such means the risk of discovery and
pursuit will be lessened, Yang will be able to set forth on his journey
with greater speed, and this one will have an opportunity of getting
together certain articles without which, indeed, she would be very
inadequately equipped.”

In spite of his conscientious desire that Hiya should be by his side
on the journey, together with an unendurable certainty that evil would
arise from the course she proposed, Yang was compelled by an innate
feeling of respect to agree to her wishes, and in this manner the
arrangement was definitely concluded. Thereupon Hiya, without delay,
returned to the dwelling, remarking that otherwise her absence might be
detected and the entire circumstance thereby discovered, leaving Yang Hu
to continue his journey and again present himself before Tung Fel, as he
had been instructed.

Tung Fel was engaged with brush and ink when Yang Hu entered. Round him
were many written parchments, some venerable with age, and a variety
of other matters, among which might be clearly perceived weapons, and
devices for reading the future. He greeted Yang with many tokens of
dignified respect, and with an evidently restrained emotion led him
towards the light of a hanging lantern, where he gazed into his face for
a considerable period with every indication of exceptional concern.

“Yang Hu,” he said at length, “at such a moment many dark and searching
thoughts may naturally arise in the mind concerning objects and reasons,
omens, and the moving cycle of events. Yet in all these, out of a wisdom
gained by deep endurance and a hardly-won experience beyond the common
lot, this person would say, Be content. The hand of destiny, though it
may at times appear to move in a devious manner, is ever approaching its
appointed aim. To this end were you chosen.”

“The choice was openly made by wise and proficient omens,” replied Yang
Hu, without any display of uncertainty of purpose, “and this person is
content.”

Tung Fel then administered to Yang the Oath of Buddha’s Face and the One
called the Unutterable (which may not be further described in written
words) thereby binding his body and soul, and the souls and repose of
all who had gone before him in direct line and all who should in a like
manner follow after, to the accomplishment of the design. All spoken
matter being thus complete between them, he gave him a mask with which
he should pass unknown through the streets and into the presence of Ping
Siang, a variety of weapons to use as the occasion arose, and a sign
by which the attendants at the Yamen would admit him without further
questioning.

As Yang Hu passed through the streets of Ching-fow, which were in a
great measure deserted owing to the command of Tung Fel, he was aware of
many mournful and foreboding sounds which accompanied him on all sides,
while shadowy faces, bearing signs of intolerable anguish and despair,
continually formed themselves out of the wind. By the time he reached
the Yamen a tempest of exceptional violence was in progress, nor were
other omens absent which tended to indicate that matters of a very
unpropitious nature were about to take place.

At each successive door of the Yamen the attendant stepped back and
covered his face, so that he should by no chance perceive who had come
upon so destructive a mission, the instant Yang Hu uttered the sign with
which Tung Fel had provided him. In this manner Yang quickly reached the
door of the inner chamber upon which was inscribed: “Let the person who
comes with a doubtful countenance, unbidden, or meditating treachery,
remember the curse and manner of death which attended Lai Kuen, who
slew the one over him; so shall he turn and go forth in safety.” This
unworthy safeguard at the hands of a person who passed his entire life
in altering the fixed nature of justice, and who never went beyond his
outer gate without an armed company of bowmen, inspired Yang Hu with
so incautious a contempt, that without any hesitation he drew forth his
brush and ink, and in a spirit of bitter signification added the words,
“‘Come, let us eat together,’ said the wolf to the she-goat.”

Being now within a step of Ping Siang and the completion of his
undertaking, Yang Hu drew tighter the cords of his mask, tested and
proved his weapons, and then, without further delay, threw open the door
before him and stepped into the chamber, barring the door quickly so
that no person might leave or enter without his consent.

At this interruption and manner of behaving, which clearly indicated
the nature of the errand upon which the person before him had come,
Ping Siang rose from his couch and stretched out his hand towards a gong
which lay beside him.

“All summonses for aid are now unavailing, Ping Siang,” exclaimed Yang,
without in any measure using delicate or set phrases of speech; “for,
as you have doubtless informed yourself, the slaves of tyrants are the
first to welcome the downfall of their lord.”

“The matter of your speech is as emptiness to this person,” replied the
Mandarin, affecting with extreme difficulty an appearance of no-concern.
“In what manner has he fallen? And how will the depraved and self-willed
person before him avoid the well-deserved tortures which certainly await
him in the public square on the morrow, as the reward of his intolerable
presumptions?”

“O Mandarin,” cried Yang Hu, “the fitness and occasion for such speeches
as the one to which you have just given utterance lie as far behind you
as the smoke of yesterday’s sacrifice. With what manner of eyes have you
frequently journeyed through Ching-fow of late, if the signs and
omens there have not already warned you to prepare a coffin adequately
designed to receive your well-proportioned body? Has not the pungent
vapour of burning houses assailed your senses at every turn, or the salt
tears from the eyes of forlorn ones dashed your peach-tea and spiced
foods with bitterness?”

“Alas!” exclaimed Ping Siang, “this person now certainly begins to
perceive that many things which he has unthinkingly allowed would
present a very unendurable face to others.”

“In such a manner has it appeared to all Ching-fow,” said Yang Hu; “and
the justice of your death has been universally admitted. Even should
this one fail there would be an innumerable company eager to take his
place. Therefore, O Ping Siang, as the only favour which it is within
this person’s power to accord, select that which in your opinion is the
most agreeable manner and weapon for your end.”

“It is truly said that at the Final Gate of the Two Ways the necessity
for elegant and well-chosen sentences ends,” remarked Ping Siang with a
sigh, “otherwise the manner of your address would be open to reproach.
By your side this person perceives a long and apparently highly-tempered
sword, which, in his opinion, will serve the purpose efficiently. Having
no remarks of an improving but nevertheless exceedingly tedious nature
with which to imprint the occasion for the benefit of those who come
after, his only request is that the blow shall be an unhesitating and
sufficiently well-directed one.”

At these words Yang Hu threw back his cloak to grasp the sword-handle,
when the Mandarin, with his eyes fixed on the naked arm, and evidently
inspired by every manner of conflicting emotions, uttered a cry of
unspeakable wonder and incomparable surprise.

“The Serpent!” he cried, in a voice from which all evenness and control
were absent. “The Sacred Serpent of our Race! O mysterious one, who and
whence are you?”

Engulfed in an all-absorbing doubt at the nature of events, Yang could
only gaze at the form of the serpent which had been clearly impressed
upon his arm from the earliest time of his remembrance, while Ping
Siang, tearing the silk garment from his own arm and displaying thereon
a similar form, continued:

“Behold the inevitable and unvarying birthmark of our race! So it was
with this person’s father and the ones before him; so it was with his
treacherously-stolen son; so it will be to the end of all time.”

Trembling beyond all power of restraint, Yang removed the mask which had
hitherto concealed his face.

“Father or race has this person none,” he said, looking into Ping
Siang’s features with an all-engaging hope, tempered in a measure by a
soul-benumbing dread; “nor memory or tradition of an earlier state than
when he herded goats and sought for jade in the southern mountains.”

“Nevertheless,” exclaimed the Mandarin, whose countenance was lightened
with an interest and a benevolent emotion which had never been seen
there before, “beyond all possibility of doubting, you are this
person’s lost and greatly-desired son, stolen away many years ago by
the treacherous conduct of an unworthy woman, yet now happily and
miraculously restored to cherish his declining years and perpetuate an
honourable name and race.”

“Happily!” exclaimed Yang, with fervent indications of uncontrollable
bitterness. “Oh, my illustrious sire, at whose venerated feet this
unworthy person now prostrates himself with well-merited marks of
reverence and self-abasement, has the errand upon which an ignoble son
entered--the every memory of which now causes him the acutest agony
of the lost, but which nevertheless he is pledged to Tung Fel by the
Unutterable Oath to perform--has this unnatural and eternally cursed
thing escaped your versatile mind?”

“Tung Fel!” cried Ping Siang. “Is, then, this blow also by the hand of
that malicious and vindictive person? Oh, what a cycle of events and
interchanging lines of destiny do your words disclose!”

“Who, then, is Tung Fel, my revered Father?” demanded Yang.

“It is a matter which must be made clear from the beginning,” replied
Ping Siang. “At one time this person and Tung Fel were, by nature
and endowments, united in the most amiable bonds of an inseparable
friendship. Presently Tung Fel signed the preliminary contract of
a marriage with one who seemed to be endowed with every variety of
enchanting and virtuous grace, but who was, nevertheless, as the
unrolling of future events irresistibly discovered, a person of
irregular character and undignified habits. On the eve of the marriage
ceremony this person was made known to her by the undoubtedly enraptured
Tung Fel, whereupon he too fell into the snare of her engaging
personality, and putting aside all thoughts of prudent restraint, made
her more remunerative offers of marriage than Tung Fel could by any
possible chance overbid. In such a manner--for after the nature of
her kind riches were exceptionally attractive to her degraded
imagination--she became this person’s wife, and the mother of his only
son. In spite of these great honours, however, the undoubted perversity
of her nature made her an easy accomplice to the duplicity of Tung
Fel, who, by means of various disguises, found frequent opportunity of
uttering in her presence numerous well-thought-out suggestions specially
designed to lead her imagination towards an existence in which this
person had no adequate representation. Becoming at length terrified at
the possibility of these unworthy emotions, obtruding themselves upon
this person’s notice, the two in question fled together, taking with
them the one who without any doubt is now before me. Despite the most
assiduous search and very tempting and profitable offers of reward, no
information of a reliable nature could be obtained, and at length
this dispirited and completely changed person gave up the pursuit as
unavailing. With his son and heir, upon whose future he had greatly
hoped, all emotions of a generous and high-minded nature left him, and
in a very short space of time he became the avaricious and deservedly
unpopular individual against whose extortions the amiable and
long-suffering ones of Ching-fow have for so many years protested
mildly. The sudden and not altogether unexpected fate which is now
on the point of reaching him is altogether too lenient to be entirely
adequate.”

“Oh, my distinguished and really immaculate sire!” cried Yang Hu, in a
voice which expressed the deepest feelings of contrition. “No oaths or
vows, however sacred, can induce this person to stretch forth his hand
against the one who stands before him.”

“Nevertheless,” replied Ping Siang, speaking of the matter as though it
were one which did not closely concern his own existence, “to neglect
the Unutterable Oath would inevitably involve not only the two persons
who are now conversing together, but also those before and those who are
to come after in direct line, in a much worse condition of affairs. That
is a fate which this person would by no means permit to exist, for one
of his chief desires has ever been to establish a strong and vigorous
line, to which end, indeed, he was even now concluding a marriage
arrangement with the beautiful and refined Hiya-ai-Shao, whom he had
at length persuaded into accepting his betrothal tokens without
reluctance.”

“Hiya-ai-Shao!” exclaimed Yang; “she has accepted your silk-bound
gifts?”

“The matter need not concern us now,” replied the Mandarin, not
observing in his complicated emotions the manner in which the name of
Hiya had affected Yang, revealing as it undoubtedly did the treachery of
his beloved one. “There only appears to be one honourable way in which
the full circumstances can be arranged, and this person will in no
measure endeavour to avoid it.”

“Such an end is neither ignoble nor painful,” he said, in an unchanging
voice; “nor will this one in any way shrink from so easy and honourable
a solution.”

“The affairs of the future do not exhibit themselves in delicately
coloured hues to this person,” said Yang Hu; “and he would, if the thing
could be so arranged, cheerfully submit to a similar fate in order that
a longer period of existence should be assured to one who has every
variety of claim upon his affection.”

“The proposal is a graceful and conscientious one,” said Ping Siang,
“and is, moreover, a gratifying omen of the future of our race, which
must of necessity be left in your hands. But, for that reason itself,
such a course cannot be pursued. Nevertheless, the events of the past
few hours have been of so exceedingly prosperous and agreeable a nature
that this short-sighted and frequently desponding person can now
pass beyond with a tranquil countenance and every assurance of divine
favour.”

With these words Ping Siang indicated that he was desirous of setting
forth the Final Expression, and arranging the necessary matters upon the
table beside him, he stretched forth his hands over Yang Hu, who placed
himself in a suitable attitude of reverence and abasement.

“Yang Hu,” began the Mandarin, “undoubted son, and, after the
accomplishment of the intention which it is our fixed purpose to carry
out, fitting representative of the person who is here before you,
engrave well within your mind the various details upon which he now
gives utterance. Regard the virtues; endeavour to pass an amiable and
at the same time not unremunerative existence; and on all occasions
sacrifice freely, to the end that the torments of those who have gone
before may be made lighter, and that others may be induced in turn to
perform a like benevolent charity for yourself. Having expressed
himself upon these general subjects, this person now makes a last and
respectfully-considered desire, which it is his deliberate wish should
be carried to the proper deities as his final expression of opinion:
That Yang Hu may grow as supple as the dried juice of the bending-palm,
and as straight as the most vigorous bamboo from the forests of the
North. That he may increase beyond the prolificness of the white-necked
crow and cover the ground after the fashion of the binding grass.
That in battle his sword may be as a vividly-coloured and many-forked
lightning flash, accompanied by thunderbolts as irresistible as Buddha’s
divine wrath; in peace his voice as resounding as the rolling of many
powerful drums among the Khingan Mountains. That when the kindled fire
of his existence returns to the great Mountain of Pure Flame the earth
shall accept again its component parts, and in no way restrain the
divine essence from journeying to its destined happiness. These words
are Ping Siang’s last expression of opinion before he passes beyond,
given in the unvarying assurance that so sacred and important a petition
will in no way be neglected.”

Having in this manner completed all the affairs which seemed to be of
a necessary and urgent nature, and fixing his last glance upon Yang Hu
with every variety of affectionate and estimable emotion, the Mandarin
drank a sufficient quantity of the liquid, and placing himself upon a
couch in an attitude of repose, passed in this dignified and unassuming
manner into the Upper Air.

After the space of a few moments spent in arranging certain objects and
in inward contemplation, Yang Hu crossed the chamber, still holding
the half-filled vessel of gold-leaf in his hand, and drawing back the
hanging silk, gazed over the silent streets of Ching-fow and towards the
great sky-lantern above.

“Hiya is faithless,” he said at length in an unspeaking voice; “this
person’s mother a bitter-tasting memory, his father a swiftly passing
shadow that is now for ever lost.” His eyes rested upon the closed
vessel in his hand. “Gladly would--” his thoughts began, but with
this unworthy image a new impression formed itself within his mind. “A
clearly-expressed wish was uttered,” he concluded, “and Tung Fel still
remains.” With this resolution he stepped back into the chamber and
struck the gong loudly.




VII.
THE CAREER OF THE CHARITABLE QUEN-KI-TONG


                     FIRST PERIOD
                  THE PUBLIC OFFICIAL

“The motives which inspired the actions of the devout Quen-Ki-Tong have
long been ill-reported,” said Kai Lung the story-teller, upon a certain
occasion at Wu-whei, “and, as a consequence, his illustrious memory has
suffered somewhat. Even as the insignificant earth-worm may bring
the precious and many coloured jewel to the surface, so has it been
permitted to this obscure and superficially educated one to discover
the truth of the entire matter among the badly-arranged and frequently
really illegible documents preserved at the Hall of Public Reference at
Peking. Without fear of contradiction, therefore, he now sets forth the
credible version.

“Quen-Ki-Tong was one who throughout his life had been compelled by
the opposing force of circumstances to be content with what was offered
rather than attain to that which he desired. Having been allowed to
wander over the edge of an exceedingly steep crag, while still a child,
by the aged and untrustworthy person who had the care of him, and yet
suffering little hurt, he was carried back to the city in triumph,
by the one in question, who, to cover her neglect, declared amid
many chants of exultation that as he slept a majestic winged form had
snatched him from her arms and traced magical figures with his body on
the ground in token of the distinguished sacred existence for which he
was undoubtedly set apart. In such a manner he became famed at a very
early age for an unassuming mildness of character and an almost inspired
piety of life, so that on every side frequent opportunity was given him
for the display of these amiable qualities. Should it chance that an
insufficient quantity of puppy-pie had been prepared for the family
repast, the undesirable but necessary portion of cold dried rat would
inevitably be allotted to the uncomplaining Quen, doubtless accompanied
by the engaging but unnecessary remark that he alone had a Heaven-sent
intellect which was fixed upon more sublime images than even the
best constructed puppy-pie. Should the number of sedan-chairs not be
sufficient to bear to the Exhibition of Kites all who were desirous of
becoming entertained in such a fashion, inevitably would Quen be the one
left behind, in order that he might have adequate leisure for dignified
and pure-minded internal reflexion.

“In this manner it came about that when a very wealthy but unnaturally
avaricious and evil-tempered person who was connected with Quen’s father
in matters of commerce expressed his fixed determination that the most
deserving and enlightened of his friend’s sons should enter into a
marriage agreement with his daughter, there was no manner of hesitation
among those concerned, who admitted without any questioning between
themselves that Quen was undeniably the one referred to.

“Though naturally not possessing an insignificant intellect, a
continuous habit, together with a most irreproachable sense of filial
duty, subdued within Quen’s internal organs whatever reluctance he might
have otherwise displayed in the matter, so that as courteously as was
necessary he presented to the undoubtedly very ordinary and slow-witted
maiden in question the gifts of irretrievable intention, and honourably
carried out his spoken and written words towards her.

“For a period of years the circumstances of the various persons did not
in any degree change, Quen in the meantime becoming more pure-souled
and inward-seeing with each moon-change, after the manner of the sublime
Lien-ti, who studied to maintain an unmoved endurance in all varieties
of events by placing his body to a greater extent each day in a vessel
of boiling liquid. Nevertheless, the good and charitable deities to
whom Quen unceasingly sacrificed were not altogether unmindful of his
virtues; for a son was born, and an evil disease which arose from a most
undignified display of uncontrollable emotion on her part ended in his
wife being deposited with becoming ceremony in the Family Temple.

“Upon a certain evening, when Quen sat in his inner chamber deliberating
upon the really beneficent yet somewhat inexplicable arrangement of the
all-seeing ones to whom he was very amiably disposed in consequence of
the unwonted tranquillity which he now enjoyed, yet who, it appeared to
him, could have set out the entire matter in a much more satisfactory
way from the beginning, he was made aware by the unexpected beating of
many gongs, and by other signs of refined and deferential welcome, that
a person of exalted rank was approaching his residence. While he was
still hesitating in his uncertainty regarding the most courteous and
delicate form of self-abasement with which to honour so important a
visitor--whether to rush forth and allow the chair-carriers to pass over
his prostrate form, to make a pretence of being a low-caste slave, and
in that guise doing menial service, or to conceal himself beneath
a massive and overhanging table until his guest should have availed
himself of the opportunity to examine at his leisure whatever the room
contained--the person in question stood before him. In every detail of
dress and appointment he had the undoubted appearance of being one to
whom no door might be safely closed.

“‘Alas!’ exclaimed Quen, ‘how inferior and ill-contrived is the mind
of a person of my feeble intellectual attainments. Even at this moment,
when the near approach of one who obviously commands every engaging
accomplishment might reasonably be expected to call up within it an
adequate amount of commonplace resource, its ill-destined possessor
finds himself entirely incapable of conducting himself with the fitting
outward marks of his great internal respect. This residence is certainly
unprepossessing in the extreme, yet it contains many objects of some
value and of great rarity; illiterate as this person is, he would not
be so presumptuous as to offer any for your acceptance, but if you will
confer upon him the favour of selecting that which appears to be the
most priceless and unreplaceable, he will immediately, and with every
manifestation of extreme delight, break it irredeemably in your honour,
to prove the unaffected depth of his gratified emotions.’

“‘Quen-Ki-Tong,’ replied the person before him, speaking with an evident
sincerity of purpose, ‘pleasant to this one’s ears are your words,
breathing as they do an obvious hospitality and a due regard for the
forms of etiquette. But if, indeed, you are desirous of gaining this
person’s explicit regard, break no articles of fine porcelain or rare
inlaid wood in proof of it, but immediately dismiss to a very distant
spot the three-score gong-beaters who have enclosed him within two solid
rings, and who are now carrying out their duties in so diligent a manner
that he greatly doubts if the unimpaired faculties of hearing will ever
be fully restored. Furthermore, if your exceedingly amiable intentions
desire fuller expression, cause an unstinted number of vessels of some
uninflammable liquid to be conveyed into your chrysanthemum garden and
there poured over the numerous fireworks and coloured lights which still
appear to be in progress. Doubtless they are well-intentioned marks of
respect, but they caused this person considerable apprehension as he
passed among them, and, indeed, give to this unusually pleasant and
unassuming spot the by no means inviting atmosphere of a low-class
tea-house garden during the festivities attending the birthday of the
sacred Emperor.’

“‘This person is overwhelmed with a most unendurable confusion that the
matters referred to should have been regarded in such a light,’ replied
Quen humbly. ‘Although he himself had no knowledge of them until this
moment, he is confident that they in no wise differ from the usual
honourable manifestations with which it is customary in this Province to
welcome strangers of exceptional rank and titles.’

“‘The welcome was of a most dignified and impressive nature,’ replied
the stranger, with every appearance of not desiring to cause Quen any
uneasy internal doubts; ‘yet the fact is none the less true that at the
moment this person’s head seems to contain an exceedingly powerful and
well-equipped band; and also, that as he passed through the courtyard
an ingeniously constructed but somewhat unmanageable figure of gigantic
size, composed entirely of jets of many-coloured flame, leaped out
suddenly from behind a dark wall and made an almost successful attempt
to embrace him in its ever-revolving arms. Lo Yuen greatly fears that
the time when he would have rejoiced in the necessary display of agility
to which the incident gave rise has for ever passed away.’

“‘Lo Yuen!’ exclaimed Quen, with an unaffected mingling of the emotions
of reverential awe and pleasureable anticipation. ‘Can it indeed be
an uncontroversial fact that so learned and ornamental a person as the
renowned Controller of Unsolicited Degrees stands beneath this inelegant
person’s utterly unpresentable roof! Now, indeed, he plainly understands
why this ill-conditioned chamber has the appearance of being filled with
a Heaven-sent brilliance, and why at the first spoken words of the one
before him a melodious sound, like the rushing waters of the sacred
Tien-Kiang, seemed to fill his ears.’

“‘Undoubtedly the chamber is pervaded by a very exceptional splendour,’
replied Lo Yuen, who, in spite of his high position, regarded graceful
talk and well-imagined compliments in a spirit of no-satisfaction; ‘yet
this commonplace-minded one has a fixed conviction that it is caused
by the crimson-eyed and pink-fire-breathing dragon which, despite your
slave’s most assiduous efforts, is now endeavouring to climb through
the aperture behind you. The noise which still fills his ears, also,
resembles rather the despairing cries of the Ten Thousand Lost Ones at
the first sight of the Pit of Liquid and Red-hot Malachite, yet
without question both proceed from the same cause. Laying aside further
ceremony, therefore, permit this greatly over-estimated person to
disclose the object of his inopportune visit. Long have your amiable
virtues been observed and appreciated by the high ones at Peking, O
Quen-Ki-Tong. Too long have they been unrewarded and passed over in
silence. Nevertheless, the moment of acknowledgement and advancement has
at length arrived; for, as the Book of Verses clearly says, “Even the
three-legged mule may contrive to reach the agreed spot in advance of
the others, provided a circular running space has been selected and
the number of rounds be sufficiently ample.” It is this otherwise
uninteresting and obtrusive person’s graceful duty to convey to you the
agreeable intelligence that the honourable and not ill-rewarded office
of Guarder of the Imperial Silkworms has been conferred upon you, and
to require you to proceed without delay to Peking, so that fitting
ceremonies of admittance may be performed before the fifteenth day of
the month of Feathered Insects.’

“Alas! how frequently does the purchaser of seemingly vigorous and
exceptionally low-priced flower-seeds discover, when too late, that they
are, in reality, fashioned from the root of the prolific and valueless
tzu-ka, skilfully covered with a disguising varnish! Instead of
presenting himself at the place of commerce frequented by those who
entrust money to others on the promise of an increased repayment when
certain very probable events have come to pass (so that if all
else failed he would still possess a serviceable number of taels),
Quen-Ki-Tong entirely neglected the demands of a most ordinary prudence,
nor could he be induced to set out on his journey until he had passed
seven days in public feasting to mark his good fortune, and then devoted
fourteen more days to fasting and various acts of penance, in order to
make known the regret with which he acknowledged his entire unworthiness
for the honour before him. Owing to this very conscientious, but
nevertheless somewhat short-sighted manner of behaving, Quen found
himself unable to reach Peking before the day preceding that to which Lo
Yuen had made special reference. From this cause it came about that only
sufficient time remained to perform the various ceremonies of admission,
without in any degree counselling Quen as to his duties and procedure in
the fulfilment of his really important office.

“Among the many necessary and venerable ceremonies observed during the
changing periods of the year, none occupy a more important place than
those for which the fifteenth day of the month of Feathered Insects is
reserved, conveying as they do a respectful and delicately-fashioned
petition that the various affairs upon which persons in every
condition of life are engaged may arrive at a pleasant and remunerative
conclusion. At the earliest stroke of the gong the versatile Emperor,
accompanied by many persons of irreproachable ancestry and certain
others, very elaborately attired, proceeds to an open space set apart
for the occasion. With unassuming dexterity the benevolent Emperor for
a brief span of time engages in the menial occupation of a person of
low class, and with his own hands ploughs an assigned portion of land in
order that the enlightened spirits under whose direct guardianship the
earth is placed may not become lax in their disinterested efforts to
promote its fruitfulness. In this charitable exertion he is followed
by various other persons of recognized position, the first being, by
custom, the Guarder of the Imperial Silkworms, while at the same time
the amiably-disposed Empress plants an allotted number of mulberry
trees, and deposits upon their leaves the carefully reared insects
which she receives from the hands of their Guarder. In the case of the
accomplished Emperor an ingenious contrivance is resorted to by which
the soil is drawn aside by means of hidden strings as the plough passes
by, the implement in question being itself constructed from paper of the
highest quality, while the oxen which draw it are, in reality,
ordinary persons cunningly concealed within masks of cardboard. In this
thoughtful manner the actual labours of the sublime Emperor are greatly
lessened, while no chance is afforded for an inauspicious omen to be
created by the rebellious behaviour of a maliciously-inclined ox, or by
any other event of an unforeseen nature. All the other persons, however,
are required to make themselves proficient in the art of ploughing,
before the ceremony, so that the chances of the attendant spirits
discovering the deception which has been practised upon them in the case
of the Emperor may not be increased by its needless repetition. It was
chiefly for this reason that Lo Yuen had urged Quen to journey to Peking
as speedily as possible, but owing to the very short time which remained
between his arrival and the ceremony of ploughing, not only had the
person in question neglected to profit by instruction, but he was not
even aware of the obligation which awaited him. When, therefore, in
spite of every respectful protest on his part, he was led up to a
massively-constructed implement drawn by two powerful and undeniably
evilly-intentioned-looking animals, it was with every sign of great
internal misgivings, and an entire absence of enthusiasm in the
entertainment, that he commenced his not too well understood task. In
this matter he was by no means mistaken, for it soon became plain to all
observers--of whom an immense concourse was assembled--that the usually
self-possessed Guarder of the Imperial Silkworms was conducting
himself in a most undignified manner; for though he still clung to the
plough-handles with an inspired tenacity, his body assumed every variety
of base and uninviting attitude. Encouraged by this inelegant state
of affairs, the evil spirits which are ever on the watch to turn into
derision the charitable intentions of the pure-minded entered into
the bodies of the oxen and provoked within their minds a sudden and
malignant confidence that the time had arrived when they might with
safety break into revolt and throw off the outward signs of their
dependent condition. From these various causes it came about that Quen
was, without warning, borne with irresistible certainty against the
majestic person of the sacred Emperor, the inlaid box of Imperial
silkworms, which up to that time had remained safely among the folds
of his silk garment, alone serving to avert an even more violent and
ill-destined blow.

“Well said the wise and deep-thinking Ye-te, in his book entitled
_Proverbs of Everyday Happenings_, ‘Should a person on returning from
the city discover his house to be in flames, let him examine well the
change which he has received from the chair-carrier before it is too
late; for evil never travels alone.’ Scarcely had the unfortunate Quen
recovered his natural attributes from the effect of the disgraceful
occurrence which has been recorded (which, indeed, furnished the matter
of a song and many unpresentable jests among the low-class persons
of the city), than the magnanimous Empress reached that detail of the
tree-planting ceremony when it was requisite that she should deposit the
living emblems of the desired increase and prosperity upon the leaves.
Stretching forth her delicately-proportioned hand to Quen for this
purpose, she received from the still greatly confused person in question
the Imperial silkworms in so unseemly a condition that her eyes had
scarcely rested upon them before she was seized with the rigid
sickness, and in that state fell to the ground. At this new and entirely
unforeseen calamity a very disagreeable certainty of approaching evil
began to take possession of all those who stood around, many crying
aloud that every omen of good was wanting, and declaring that unless
something of a markedly propitiatory nature was quickly accomplished,
the agriculture of the entire Empire would cease to flourish, and the
various departments of the commerce in silk would undoubtedly be thrown
into a state of most inextricable confusion. Indeed, in spite of all
things designed to have a contrary effect, the matter came about in the
way predicted, for the Hoang-Ho seven times overcame its restraining
barriers, and poured its waters over the surrounding country, thereby
gaining for the first time its well-deserved title of ‘The Sorrow of
China,’ by which dishonourable but exceedingly appropriate designation
it is known to this day.

“The manner of greeting which would have been accorded to Quen had
he returned to the official quarter of the city, or the nature of his
treatment by the baser class of the ordinary people if they succeeded
in enticing him to come among them, formed a topic of such uninviting
conjecture that the humane-minded Lo Yuen, who had observed the
entire course of events from an elevated spot, determined to make
a well-directed effort towards his safety. To this end he quickly
purchased the esteem of several of those who make a profession of their
strength, holding out the hope of still further reward if they conducted
the venture to a successful termination. Uttering loud cries of an
impending vengeance, as Lo Yuen had instructed them in the matter,
and displaying their exceptional proportions to the astonishment and
misgivings of all beholders, these persons tore open the opium-tent in
which Quen had concealed himself, and, thrusting aside all opposition,
quickly dragged him forth. Holding him high upon their shoulders, in
spite of his frequent and ill-advised endeavours to cast himself to
the ground, some surrounded those who bore him--after the manner of
disposing his troops affected by a skilful leader when the enemy begin
to waver--and crying aloud that it was their unchanging purpose to
submit him to the test of burning splinters and afterwards to torture
him, they succeeded by this stratagem in bringing him through the
crowd; and hurling back or outstripping those who endeavoured to follow,
conveyed him secretly and unperceived to a deserted and appointed
spot. Here Quen was obliged to remain until other events caused the
recollection of the many to become clouded and unconcerned towards him,
suffering frequent inconveniences in spite of the powerful protection
of Lo Yuen, and not at all times being able to regard the most necessary
repast as an appointment of undoubted certainty. At length, in the guise
of a wandering conjurer who was unable to display his accomplishments
owing to an entire loss of the power of movement in his arms, Quen
passed undetected from the city, and safely reaching the distant and
unimportant town of Lu-Kwo, gave himself up to a protracted period of
lamentation and self-reproach at the unprepossessing manner in which he
had conducted his otherwise very inviting affairs.


                     SECOND PERIOD
                  THE TEMPLE BUILDER

Two hand-counts of years passed away and Quen still remained at Lu-kwo,
all desire of returning either to Peking or to the place of his birth
having by this time faded into nothingness. Accepting the inevitable
fact that he was not destined ever to become a person with whom taels
were plentiful, and yet being unwilling to forego the charitable manner
of life which he had always been accustomed to observe, it came about
that he spent the greater part of his time in collecting together such
sums of money as he could procure from the amiable and well-disposed,
and with them building temples and engaging in other benevolent works.
From this cause it arose the Quen obtained around Lu-kwo a reputation
for high-minded piety, in no degree less than that which had been
conferred upon him in earlier times, so that pilgrims from far distant
places would purposely contrive their journey so as to pass through the
town containing so unassuming and virtuous a person.

“During this entire period Quen had been accompanied by his only son, a
youth of respectful personality, in whose entertaining society he took
an intelligent interest. Even when deeply engaged in what he justly
regarded as the crowning work of his existence--the planning and
erecting of an exceptionally well-endowed marble temple, which was to
be entirely covered on the outside with silver paper, and on the inside
with gold-leaf--he did not fail to observe the various conditions of
Liao’s existence, and the changing emotions which from time to
time possessed him. Therefore, when the person in question, without
displaying any signs of internal sickness, and likewise persistently
denying that he had lost any considerable sum of money, disclosed a
continuous habit of turning aside with an unaffected expression of
distaste from all manner of food, and passed the entire night in
observing the course of the great sky-lantern rather than in sleep, the
sage and discriminating Quen took him one day aside, and asked him, as
one who might aid him in the matter, who the maiden was, and what class
and position her father occupied.

“‘Alas!’ exclaimed Liao, with many unfeigned manifestations of an
unbearable fate, ‘to what degree do the class and position of her
entirely unnecessary parents affect the question? or how little hope
can this sacrilegious one reasonably have of ever progressing as far as
earthly details of a pecuniary character in the case of so adorable and
far-removed a Being? The uttermost extent of this wildly-hoping person’s
ambition is that when the incomparably symmetrical Ts’ain learns of
the steadfast light of his devotion, she may be inspired to deposit an
emblematic chrysanthemum upon his tomb in the Family Temple. For such a
reward he will cheerfully devote the unswerving fidelity of a lifetime
to her service, not distressing her gentle and retiring nature by the
expression of what must inevitably be a hopeless passion, but patiently
and uncomplainingly guarding her footsteps as from a distance.’

“Being in this manner made aware of the reason of Liao’s frequent and
unrestrained exclamations of intolerable despair, and of his fixed
determination with regard to the maiden Ts’ain (which seemed, above
all else, to indicate a resolution to shun her presence) Quen could not
regard the immediately-following actions of his son with anything but an
emotion of confusion. For when his eyes next rested upon the exceedingly
contradictory Liao, he was seated in the open space before the house in
which Ts’ain dwelt, playing upon an instrument of stringed woods, and
chanting verses into which the names of the two persons in question
had been skilfully introduced without restraint, his whole manner of
behaving being with the evident purpose of attracting the maiden’s
favourable attention. After an absence of many days, spent in this
graceful and complimentary manner, Liao returned suddenly to the house
of his father, and, prostrating his body before him, made a specific
request for his assistance.

“‘As regards Ts’ain and myself,’ he continued, ‘all things are arranged,
and but for the unfortunate coincidence of this person’s poverty and
of her father’s cupidity, the details of the wedding ceremony would
undoubtedly now be in a very advanced condition. Upon these entrancing
and well-discussed plans, however, the shadow of the grasping and
commonplace Ah-Ping has fallen like the inopportune opium-pipe from the
mouth of a person examining substances of an explosive nature; for the
one referred to demands a large and utterly unobtainable amount of taels
before he will suffer his greatly-sought-after daughter to accept the
gifts of irretrievable intention.’

“‘Grievous indeed is your plight,’ replied Quen, when he thus understood
the manner of obstacle which impeded his son’s hopes; ‘for in the nature
of taels the most diverse men are to be measured through the same mesh.
As the proverb says, “‘All money is evil,’ exclaimed the philosopher
with extreme weariness, as he gathered up the gold pieces in exchange,
but presently discovering that one among them was such indeed as he had
described, he rushed forth without tarrying to take up a street garment;
and with an entire absence of dignity traversed all the ways of the city
in the hope of finding the one who had defrauded him.” Well does this
person know the mercenary Ah-Ping, and the unyielding nature of his
closed hand; for often, but always fruitlessly, he has entered his
presence on affairs connected with the erecting of certain temples.
Nevertheless, the matter is one which does not admit of any incapable
faltering, to which end this one will seek out the obdurate Ah-Ping
without delay, and endeavour to entrap him by some means in the course
of argument.’

“From the time of his earliest youth Ah-Ping had unceasingly devoted
himself to the object of getting together an overwhelming number of
taels, using for this purpose various means which, without being really
degrading or contrary to the written law, were not such as might have
been cheerfully engaged in by a person of high-minded honourableness. In
consequence of this, as he grew more feeble in body, and more venerable
in appearance, he began to express frequent and bitter doubts as to
whether his manner of life had been really well arranged; for, in spite
of his great wealth, he had grown to adopt a most inexpensive habit
on all occasions, having no desire to spend; and an ever-increasing
apprehension began to possess him that after he had passed beyond, his
sons would be very disinclined to sacrifice and burn money sufficient to
keep him in an affluent condition in the Upper Air. In such a state of
mind was Ah-Ping when Quen-Ki-Tong appeared before him, for it had just
been revealed to him that his eldest and favourite son had, by flattery
and by openly praising the dexterity with which he used his brush
and ink, entrapped him into inscribing his entire name upon certain
unwritten sheets of parchment, which the one in question immediately
sold to such as were heavily indebted to Ah-Ping.

“‘If a person can be guilty of this really unfilial behaviour during the
lifetime of his father,’ exclaimed Ah-Ping, in a tone of unrestrained
vexation, ‘can it be prudently relied upon that he will carry out his
wishes after death, when they involve the remitting to him of several
thousand taels each year? O estimable Quen-Ki-Tong, how immeasurably
superior is the celestial outlook upon which you may safely rely as your
portion! When you are enjoying every variety of sumptuous profusion,
as the reward of your untiring charitable exertions here on earth, the
spirit of this short-sighted person will be engaged in doing menial
servitude for the inferior deities, and perhaps scarcely able, even by
those means, to clothe himself according to the changing nature of the
seasons.’

“‘Yet,’ replied Quen, ‘the necessity for so laborious and unremunerative
an existence may even now be averted by taking efficient precautions
before you pass to the Upper Air.’

“‘In what way?’ demanded Ah-Ping, with an awakening hope that the matter
might not be entirely destitute of cheerfulness, yet at the same time
preparing to examine with even unbecoming intrusiveness any expedient
which Quen might lay before him. ‘Is it not explicitly stated that
sacrifices and acts of a like nature, when performed at the end of one’s
existence by a person who to that time has professed no sort of interest
in such matters, shall in no degree be entered as to his good, but
rather regarded as examples of deliberate presumptuousness, and made the
excuse for subjecting him to more severe tortures and acts of penance
than would be his portion if he neglected the custom altogether?’

“‘Undoubtedly such is the case,’ replied Quen; ‘and on that account it
would indicate a most regrettable want of foresight for you to conduct
your affairs in the manner indicated. The only undeniably safe course
is for you to entrust the amount you will require to a person of
exceptional piety, receiving in return his written word to repay the
full sum whenever you shall claim it from him in the Upper Air. By this
crafty method the amount will be placed at the disposal of the person
in question as soon as he has passed beyond, and he will be held by his
written word to return it to you whenever you shall demand it.’

“So amiably impressed with this ingenious scheme was Ah-Ping that he
would at once have entered more fully into the detail had the thought
not arisen in his mind that the person before him was the father of
Liao, who urgently required a certain large sum, and that for this
reason he might with prudence inquire more fully into the matter
elsewhere, in case Quen himself should have been imperceptibly led
aside, even though he possessed intentions of a most unswerving
honourableness. To this end, therefore, he desired to converse again
with Quen on the matter, pleading that at that moment a gathering
of those who direct enterprises of a commercial nature required his
presence. Nevertheless, he would not permit the person referred to to
depart until he had complimented him, in both general and specific
terms, on the high character of his life and actions, and the
intelligent nature of his understanding, which had enabled him with so
little mental exertion to discover an efficient plan.

“Without delay Ah-Ping sought out those most skilled in all varieties
of law-forms, in extorting money by devices capable of very different
meanings, and in expedients for evading just debts; but all agreed that
such an arrangement as the one he put before them would be unavoidably
binding, provided the person who received the money alluded to spent it
in the exercise of his charitable desires, and provided also that the
written agreement bore the duty seal of the high ones at Peking, and was
deposited in the coffin of the lender. Fully satisfied, and rejoicing
greatly that he could in this way adequately provide for his future and
entrap the avaricious ones of his house, Ah-Ping collected together the
greater part of his possessions, and converting it into pieces of gold,
entrusted them to Quen on the exact understanding that has already been
described, he receiving in turn Quen’s written and thumb-signed paper
of repayment, and his assurance that the whole amount should be expended
upon the silver-paper and gold-leaf Temple with which he was still
engaged.

“It is owing to this circumstance that Quen-Ki-Tong’s irreproachable
name has come to be lightly regarded by many who may be fitly likened to
the latter person in the subtle and experienced proverb, ‘The wise man’s
eyes fell before the gaze of the fool, fearing that if he looked he
must cry aloud, “Thou hopeless one!” “There,” said the fool to himself,
“behold this person’s power!”’ These badly educated and undiscriminating
persons, being entirely unable to explain the ensuing train of events,
unhesitatingly declare that Quen-Ki-Tong applied a portion of the money
which he had received from Ah-Ping in the manner described to the object
of acquiring Ts’ain for his son Liao. In this feeble and incapable
fashion they endeavour to stigmatize the pure-minded Quen as one who
acted directly contrary to his deliberately spoken word, whereas the
desired result was brought about in a much more artful manner; they
describe the commercially successful Ah-Ping as a person of very
inferior prudence, and one easily imposed upon; while they entirely pass
over, as a detail outside the true facts, the written paper preserved
among the sacred relics in the Temple, which announces, among other
gifts of a small and uninviting character, ‘Thirty thousand taels from
an elderly ginseng merchant of Lu-kwo, who desires to remain nameless,
through the hand of Quen-Ki-Tong.’ The full happening in its real and
harmless face is now set forth for the first time.

“Some weeks after the recorded arrangement had been arrived at by
Ah-Ping and Quen, when the taels in question had been expended upon the
Temple and were, therefore, infallibly beyond recall, the former person
chanced to be passing through the public garden in Lu-kwo when he heard
a voice lifted up in the expression of every unendurable feeling of
dejection to which one can give utterance. Stepping aside to learn the
cause of so unprepossessing a display of unrestrained agitation, and
in the hope that perhaps he might be able to use the incident in a
remunerative manner, Ah-Ping quickly discovered the unhappy being who,
entirely regardless of the embroidered silk robe which he wore, reclined
upon a raised bank of uninviting earth, and waved his hands from side to
side as his internal emotions urged him.

“‘Quen-Ki-Tong!’ exclaimed Ah-Ping, not fully convinced that the fact
was as he stated it in spite of the image clearly impressed upon his
imagination; ‘to what unpropitious occurrence is so unlooked-for an
exhibition due? Are those who traffic in gold-leaf demanding a high and
prohibitive price for that commodity, or has some evil and vindicative
spirit taken up its abode within the completed portion of the Temple,
and by its offensive but nevertheless diverting remarks and actions
removed all semblance of gravity from the countenances of those who
daily come to admire the construction?’

“‘O thrice unfortunate Ah-Ping,’ replied Quen when he observed the
distinguishing marks of the person before him, ‘scarcely can this
greatly overwhelmed one raise his eyes to your open and intelligent
countenance; for through him you are on the point of experiencing a very
severe financial blow, and it is, indeed, on your account more than on
his own that he is now indulging in these outward signs of a grief too
far down to be expressed in spoken words.’ And at the memory of his
former occupation, Quen again waved his arms from side to side with
untiring assiduousness.

“‘Strange indeed to this person’s ears are your words,’ said Ah-Ping,
outwardly unmoved, but with an apprehensive internal pain that he would
have regarded Quen’s display of emotion with an easier stomach if his
own taels were safely concealed under the floor of his inner chamber.
‘The sum which this one entrusted to you has, without any pretence
been expended upon the Temple, while the written paper concerning the
repayment bears the duty seal of the high ones at Peking. How, then, can
Ah-Ping suffer a loss at the hands of Quen-Ki-Tong?’

“‘Ah-Ping,’ said Quen, with every appearance of desiring that both
persons should regard the matter in a conciliatory spirit, ‘do not
permit the awaiting demons, which are ever on the alert to enter into
a person’s mind when he becomes distressed out of the common order of
events, to take possession of your usually discriminating faculties
until you have fully understood how this affair has come about. It is no
unknown thing for a person of even exceptional intelligence to reverse
his entire manner of living towards the end of a long and consistent
existence; the far-seeing and not lightly-moved Ah-Ping himself has
already done so. In a similar, but entirely contrary manner, the person
who is now before you finds himself impelled towards that which will
certainly bear a very unpresentable face when the circumstances
become known; yet by no other means is he capable of attaining his
greatly-desired object.’

“‘And to what end does that trend?’ demanded Ah-Ping, in no degree
understanding how the matter affected him.

“‘While occupied with enterprises which those of an engaging and
complimentary nature are accustomed to refer to as charitable,
this person has almost entirely neglected a duty of scarcely less
importance--that of establishing an unending line, through which his
name and actions shall be kept alive to all time,’ replied Quen. ‘Having
now inquired into the matter, he finds that his only son, through whom
alone the desired result can be obtained, has become unbearably attached
to a maiden for whom a very large sum is demanded in exchange. The
thought of obtaining no advantage from an entire life of self-denial
is certainly unprepossessing in the extreme, but so, even to a more
advanced degree, is the certainty that otherwise the family monuments
will be untended, and the temple of domestic virtues become an early
ruin. This person has submitted the dilemma to the test of omens, and
after considering well the reply, he has decided to obtain the price of
the maiden in a not very honourable manner, which now presents itself,
so that Liao may send out his silk-bound gifts without delay.’

“‘It is an unalluring alternative,’ said Ah-Ping, whose only inside
thought was one of gratification that the exchange money for Ts’ain
would so soon be in his possession, ‘yet this person fails to perceive
how you could act otherwise after the decision of the omens. He now
understands, moreover, that the loss you referred to on his part was in
the nature of a figure of speech, as one makes use of thunderbolts
and delicately-scented flowers to convey ideas of harsh and amiable
passions, and alluded in reality to the forthcoming departure of his
daughter, who is, as you so versatilely suggested, the comfort and
riches of his old age.’

“‘O venerable, but at this moment somewhat obtuse, Ah-Ping,’ cried
Quen, with a recurrence to his former method of expressing his unfeigned
agitation, ‘is your evenly-balanced mind unable to grasp the essential
fact of how this person’s contemplated action will affect your own
celestial condition? It is a distressing but entirely unavoidable fact,
that if this person acts in the manner which he has determined upon, he
will be condemned to the lowest place of torment reserved for those
who fail at the end of an otherwise pure existence, and in this he
will never have an opportunity of meeting the very much higher placed
Ah-Ping, and of restoring to him the thirty-thousand taels as agreed
upon.’

“At these ill-destined words, all power of rigidness departed from
Ah-Ping’s limbs, and he sank down upon the forbidding earth by Quen’s
side.

“‘O most unfortunate one who is now speaking,’ he exclaimed, when at
length his guarding spirit deemed it prudent to restore his power of
expressing himself in words, ‘happy indeed would have been your lot had
you been content to traffic in ginseng and other commodities of which
you have actual knowledge. O amiable Quen, this matter must be in some
way arranged without causing you to deviate from the entrancing paths of
your habitual virtue. Could not the very reasonable Liao be induced to
look favourably upon the attractions of some low-priced maiden, in which
case this not really hard-stomached person would be willing to advance
the necessary amount, until such time as it could be restored, at a very
low and unremunerative rate of interest?’

“‘This person has observed every variety of practical humility in the
course of his life,’ replied Quen with commendable dignity, ‘yet he now
finds himself totally unable to overcome an inward repugnance to the
thought of perpetuating his honoured name and race through the medium of
any low-priced maiden. To this end has he decided.’

“Those who were well acquainted with Ah-Ping in matters of commerce did
not hesitate to declare that his great wealth had been acquired by his
consistent habit of forming an opinion quickly while others hesitated.
On the occasion in question he only engaged his mind with the opposing
circumstances for a few moments before he definitely fixed upon the
course which he should pursue.

“‘Quen-Ki-Tong,’ he said, with an evident intermingling of many very
conflicting emotions, ‘retain to the end this well-merited reputation
for unaffected honourableness which you have so fittingly earned. Few
in the entire Empire, with powers so versatilely pointing to an eminent
position in any chosen direction, would have been content to pass their
lives in an unremunerative existence devoted to actions of charity. Had
you selected an entirely different manner of living, this person has
every confidence that he, and many others in Lu-kwo, would by this time
be experiencing a very ignoble poverty. For this reason he will make
it his most prominent ambition to hasten the realization of the amiable
hopes expressed both by Liao and by Ts’ain, concerning their
future relationship. In this, indeed, he himself will be more than
exceptionally fortunate should the former one prove to possess even a
portion of the clear-sighted sagaciousness exhibited by his engaging
father.’

           “VERSES COMPOSED BY A MUSICIAN OF LU-KWO, ON THE
                 OCCASION OF THE WEDDING CEREMONY OF
                           LIAO AND TS’AIN

  “Bright hued is the morning, the dark clouds have fallen;
  At the mere waving of Quen’s virtuous hands they melted away.
  Happy is Liao in the possession of so accomplished a parent,
  Happy also is Quen to have so discriminating a son.

  “The two persons in question sit, side by side, upon an
      embroidered couch,
  Listening to the well-expressed compliments of those who pass to
      and fro.
  From time to time their eyes meet, and glances of a very
      significant amusement pass between them;
  Can it be that on so ceremonious an occasion they are recalling
      events of a gravity-removing nature?

  “The gentle and rainbow-like Ts’ain has already arrived,
  With the graceful motion of a silver carp gliding through a screen
      of rushes, she moves among those who are assembled.
  On the brow of her somewhat contentious father there rests the
      shadow of an ill-repressed sorrow;
  Doubtless the frequently-misjudged Ah-Ping is thinking of his
      lonely hearth, now that he is for ever parted from that which
      he holds most precious.

  “In the most commodious chamber of the house the elegant
      wedding-gifts are conspicuously displayed; let us stand beside
      the one which we have contributed, and point out its
      excellence to those who pass by.
  Surely the time cannot be far distant when the sound of many gongs
      will announce that the very desirable repast is at length to
      be partaken of.”




VIII.
THE VISION OF YIN, THE SON OF YAT HUANG


When Yin, the son of Yat Huang, had passed beyond the years assigned
to the pursuit of boyhood, he was placed in the care of the hunchback
Quang, so that he might be fully instructed in the management of the
various weapons used in warfare, and also in the art of stratagem, by
which a skilful leader is often enabled to conquer when opposed to an
otherwise overwhelming multitude. In all these accomplishments Quang
excelled to an exceptional degree; for although unprepossessing in
appearance he united matchless strength to an untiring subtlety. No
other person in the entire Province of Kiang-si could hurl a javelin so
unerringly while uttering sounds of terrifying menace, or could cause
his sword to revolve around him so rapidly, while his face looked
out from the glittering circles with an expression of ill-intentioned
malignity that never failed to inspire his adversary with irrepressible
emotions of alarm. No other person could so successfully feign to
be devoid of life for almost any length of time, or by his manner of
behaving create the fixed impression that he was one of insufficient
understanding, and therefore harmless. It was for these reasons that
Quang was chosen as the instructor of Yin by Yat Huang, who, without
possessing any official degree, was a person to whom marks of obeisance
were paid not only within his own town, but for a distance of many li
around it.

At length the time arrived when Yin would in the ordinary course of
events pass from the instructorship of Quang in order to devote himself
to the commerce in which his father was engaged, and from time to time
the unavoidable thought arose persistently within his mind that although
Yat Huang doubtless knew better than he did what the circumstances of
the future required, yet his manner of life for the past years was not
such that he could contemplate engaging in the occupation of buying and
selling porcelain clay with feelings of an overwhelming interest. Quang,
however, maintained with every manifestation of inspired assurance that
Yat Huang was to be commended down to the smallest detail, inasmuch
as proficiency in the use of both blunt and sharp-edged weapons, and a
faculty for passing undetected through the midst of an encamped body
of foemen, fitted a person for the every-day affairs of life above all
other accomplishments.

“Without doubt the very accomplished Yat Huan is well advised on this
point,” continued Quang, “for even this mentally short-sighted person
can call up within his understanding numerous specific incidents in the
ordinary career of one engaged in the commerce of porcelain clay when
such attainments would be of great remunerative benefit. Does the
well-endowed Yin think, for example, that even the most depraved person
would endeavour to gain an advantage over him in the matter of buying or
selling porcelain clay if he fully understood the fact that the one with
whom he was trafficking could unhesitatingly transfix four persons with
one arrow at the distance of a hundred paces? Or to what advantage would
it be that a body of unscrupulous outcasts who owned a field of inferior
clay should surround it with drawn swords by day and night, endeavouring
meanwhile to dispose of it as material of the finest quality, if the one
whom they endeavoured to ensnare in this manner possessed the power of
being able to pass through their ranks unseen and examine the clay at
his leisure?”

“In the cases to which reference has been made, the possession of those
qualities would undoubtedly be of considerable use,” admitted Yin;
“yet, in spite of his entire ignorance of commercial matters, this one
has a confident feeling that it would be more profitable to avoid such
very doubtful forms of barter altogether rather than spend eight years
in acquiring the arts by which to defeat them. That, however, is a
question which concerns this person’s virtuous and engaging father more
than his unworthy self, and his only regret is that no opportunity has
offered by which he might prove that he has applied himself diligently
to your instruction and example, O amiable Quang.”

It had long been a regret to Quang also that no incident of a disturbing
nature had arisen whereby Yin could have shown himself proficient in the
methods of defence and attack which he had taught him. This deficiency
he had endeavoured to overcome, as far as possible, by constructing
life-like models of all the most powerful and ferocious types of
warriors and the fiercest and most relentless animals of the forest,
so that Yin might become familiar with their appearance and discover in
what manner each could be the most expeditiously engaged.

“Nevertheless,” remarked Quang, on an occasion when Yin appeared to be
covered with honourable pride at having approached an unusually large
and repulsive-looking tiger so stealthily that had the animal been
really alive it would certainly have failed to perceive him, “such
accomplishments are by no means to be regarded as conclusive in
themselves. To steal insidiously upon a destructively-included wild
beast and transfix it with one well-directed blow of a spear is attended
by difficulties and emotions which are entirely absent in the case of a
wickerwork animal covered with canvas-cloth, no matter how deceptive in
appearance the latter may be.”

To afford Yin a more trustworthy example of how he should engage with
an adversary of formidable proportions, Quang resolved upon an ingenious
plan. Procuring the skin of a grey wolf, he concealed himself within it,
and in the early morning, while the mist-damp was still upon the ground,
he set forth to meet Yin, who had on a previous occasion spoken to
him of his intention to be at a certain spot at such an hour. In this
conscientious enterprise, the painstaking Quang would doubtless have
been successful, and Yin gained an assured proficiency and experience,
had it not chanced that on the journey Quang encountered a labourer of
low caste who was crossing the enclosed ground on his way to the rice
field in which he worked. This contemptible and inopportune person,
not having at any period of his existence perfected himself in the
recognized and elegant methods of attack and defence, did not act in
the manner which would assuredly have been adopted by Yin in similar
circumstances, and for which Quang would have been fully prepared. On
the contrary, without the least indication of what his intention was,
he suddenly struck Quang, who was hesitating for a moment what action to
take, a most intolerable blow with a formidable staff which he carried.
The stroke in question inflicted itself upon Quang upon that part of the
body where the head becomes connected with the neck, and would certainly
have been followed by others of equal force and precision had not Quang
in the meantime decided that the most dignified course for him to adopt
would be to disclose his name and titles without delay. Upon learning
these facts, the one who stood before him became very grossly and
offensively amused, and having taken from Quang everything of value
which he carried among his garments, went on his way, leaving Yin’s
instructor to retrace his steps in unendurable dejection, as he then
found that he possessed no further interest whatever in the undertaking.

When Yat Huang was satisfied that his son was sufficiently skilled in
the various arts of warfare, he called him to his inner chamber, and
having barred the door securely, he placed Yin under a very binding oath
not to reveal, until an appointed period, the matter which he was going
to put before him.

“From father to son, in unbroken line for ten generations, has such a
custom been observed,” he said, “for the course of events is not to be
lightly entered upon. At the commencement of that cycle, which period is
now fully fifteen score years ago, a very wise person chanced to incur
the displeasure of the Emperor of that time, and being in consequence
driven out of the capital, he fled to the mountains. There his subtle
discernment and the pure and solitary existence which he led resulted in
his becoming endowed with faculties beyond those possessed by ordinary
beings. When he felt the end of his earthly career to be at hand he
descended into the plain, where, in a state of great destitution and
bodily anguish, he was discovered by the one whom this person has
referred to as the first of the line of ancestors. In return for the
care and hospitality with which he was unhesitatingly received,
the admittedly inspired hermit spent the remainder of his days in
determining the destinies of his rescuer’s family and posterity. It
is an undoubted fact that he predicted how one would, by well-directed
enterprise and adventure, rise to a position of such eminence in the
land that he counselled the details to be kept secret, lest the envy
and hostility of the ambitious and unworthy should be raised. From this
cause it has been customary to reveal the matter fully from father
to son, at stated periods, and the setting out of the particulars in
written words has been severely discouraged. Wise as this precaution
certainly was, it has resulted in a very inconvenient state of things;
for a remote ancestor--the fifth in line from the beginning--experienced
such vicissitudes that he returned from his travels in a state of most
abandoned idiocy, and when the time arrived that he should, in turn,
communicate to his son, he was only able to repeat over and over again
the name of the pious hermit to whom the family was so greatly indebted,
coupling it each time with a new and markedly offensive epithet. The
essential details of the undertaking having in this manner passed beyond
recall, succeeding generations, which were merely acquainted with the
fact that a very prosperous future awaited the one who fulfilled the
conditions, have in vain attempted to conform to them. It is not an
alluring undertaking, inasmuch as nothing of the method to be pursued
can be learned, except that it was the custom of the early ones, who
held the full knowledge, to set out from home and return after a period
of years. Yet so clearly expressed was the prophecy, and so great the
reward of the successful, that all have eagerly journeyed forth when
the time came, knowing nothing beyond that which this person has now
unfolded to you.”

When Yat Huang reached the end of the matter which it was his duty to
disclose, Yin for some time pondered the circumstances before replying.
In spite of a most engaging reverence for everything of a sacred nature,
he could not consider the inspired remark of the well-intentioned hermit
without feelings of a most persistent doubt, for it occurred to him that
if the person in question had really been as wise as he was represented
to be, he might reasonably have been expected to avoid the unaccountable
error of offending the enlightened and powerful Emperor under whom he
lived. Nevertheless, the prospect of engaging in the trade of porcelain
clay was less attractive in his eyes than that of setting forth upon a
journey of adventure, so that at length he expressed his willingness to
act after the manner of those who had gone before him.

This decision was received by Yat Huang with an equal intermingling of
the feelings of delight and concern, for although he would have by no
means pleasurably contemplated Yin breaking through a venerable and
esteemed custom, he was unable to put entirely from him the thought of
the degrading fate which had overtaken the fifth in line who made the
venture. It was, indeed, to guard Yin as much as possible against
the dangers to which he would become exposed, if he determined on the
expedition, that the entire course of his training had been selected. In
order that no precaution of a propitious nature should be neglected, Yat
Huang at once despatched written words of welcome to all with whom he
was acquainted, bidding them partake of a great banquet which he was
preparing to mark the occasion of his son’s leave-taking. Every variety
of sacrifice was offered up to the controlling deities, both good and
bad; the ten ancestors were continuously exhorted to take Yin under
their special protection, and sets of verses recording his virtues and
ambitions were freely distributed among the necessitous and low-caste
who could not be received at the feast.

The dinner itself exceeded in magnificence any similar event that
had ever taken place in Ching-toi. So great was the polished ceremony
observed on the occasion, that each guest had half a score of cups of
the finest apricot-tea successively placed before him and taken away
untasted, while Yat Huang went to each in turn protesting vehemently
that the honour of covering such pure-minded and distinguished persons
was more than his badly designed roof could reasonably bear, and
wittingly giving an entrancing air of reality to the spoken compliment
by begging them to move somewhat to one side so that they might escape
the heavy central beam if the event which he alluded to chanced to take
place. After several hours had been spent in this congenial occupation,
Yat Huang proceeded to read aloud several of the sixteen discourses on
education which, taken together, form the discriminating and infallible
example of conduct known as the Holy Edict. As each detail was dwelt
upon Yin arose from his couch and gave his deliberate testimony that
all the required tests and rites had been observed in his own case.
The first part of the repast was then partaken of, the nature of the
ingredients and the manner of preparing them being fully explained,
and in a like manner through each succeeding one of the four-and-forty
courses. At the conclusion Yin again arose, being encouraged by the
repeated uttering of his name by those present, and with extreme modesty
and brilliance set forth his manner of thinking concerning all subjects
with which he was acquainted.

Early on the morning of the following day Yin set out on his travels,
entirely unaccompanied, and carrying with him nothing beyond a sum of
money, a silk robe, and a well-tried and reliable spear. For many days
he journeyed in a northerly direction, without encountering anything
sufficiently unusual to engage his attention. This, however, was
doubtless part of a pre-arranged scheme so that he should not be drawn
from a destined path, for at a small village lying on the southern shore
of a large lake, called by those around Silent Water, he heard of the
existence of a certain sacred island, distant a full day’s sailing,
which was barren of all forms of living things, and contained only a
single gigantic rock of divine origin and majestic appearance. Many
persons, the villagers asserted, had sailed to the island in the hope
of learning the portent of the rock, but none ever returned, and they
themselves avoided coming even within sight of it; for the sacred stone,
they declared, exercised an evil influence over their ships, and would,
if permitted, draw them out of their course and towards itself. For this
reason Yin could find no guide, whatever reward he offered, who would
accompany him; but having with difficulty succeeded in hiring a small
boat of inconsiderable value, he embarked with food, incense, and
materials for building fires, and after rowing consistently for nearly
the whole of the day, came within sight of the island at evening.
Thereafter the necessity of further exertion ceased, for, as they of the
village had declared would be the case, the vessel moved gently forward,
in an unswerving line, without being in any way propelled, and reaching
its destination in a marvellously short space of time, passed behind a
protecting spur of land and came to rest. It then being night, Yin did
no more than carry his stores to a place of safety, and after lighting
a sacrificial fire and prostrating himself before the rock, passed into
the Middle Air.

In the morning Yin’s spirit came back to the earth amid the sound of
music of a celestial origin, which ceased immediately he recovered full
consciousness. Accepting this manifestation as an omen of Divine favour,
Yin journeyed towards the centre of the island where the rock stood,
at every step passing the bones of innumerable ones who had come on a
similar quest to his, and perished. Many of these had left behind them
inscriptions on wood or bone testifying their deliberate opinion of the
sacred rock, the island, their protecting deities, and the entire train
of circumstances, which had resulted in their being in such a condition.
These were for the most part of a maledictory and unencouraging nature,
so that after reading a few, Yin endeavoured to pass without being in
any degree influenced by such ill-judged outbursts.

“Accursed be the ancestors of this tormented one to four generations
back!” was prominently traced upon an unusually large shoulder-blade.
“May they at this moment be simmering in a vat of unrefined dragon’s
blood, as a reward for having so undiscriminatingly reared the person
who inscribes these words only to attain this end!” “Be warned, O later
one, by the signs around!” Another and more practical-minded person had
written: “Retreat with all haste to your vessel, and escape while
there is yet time. Should you, by chance, again reach land through this
warning, do not neglect, out of an emotion of gratitude, to burn an
appropriate amount of sacrifice paper for the lessening of the torments
of the spirit of Li-Kao,” to which an unscrupulous one, who was plainly
desirous of sharing in the benefit of the requested sacrifice, without
suffering the exertion of inscribing a warning after the amiable manner
of Li-Kao, had added the words, “and that of Huan Sin.”

Halting at a convenient distance from one side of the rock which,
without being carved by any person’s hand, naturally resembled the
symmetrical countenance of a recumbent dragon (which he therefore
conjectured to be the chief point of the entire mass), Yin built
his fire and began an unremitting course of sacrifice and respectful
ceremony. This manner of conduct he observed conscientiously for
the space of seven days. Towards the end of that period a feeling of
unendurable dejection began to possess him, for his stores of all kinds
were beginning to fail, and he could not entirely put behind him the
memory of the various well-intentioned warnings which he had received,
or the sight of the fleshless ones who had lined his path. On the eighth
day, being weak with hunger and, by reason of an intolerable thirst,
unable to restrain his body any longer in the spot where he had hitherto
continuously prostrated himself nine-and-ninety times each hour without
ceasing, he rose to his feet and retraced his steps to the boat in order
that he might fill his water-skins and procure a further supply of food.

With a complicated emotion, in which was present every abandoned and
disagreeable thought to which a person becomes a prey in moments of
exceptional mental and bodily anguish, he perceived as soon as
he reached the edge of the water that the boat, upon which he was
confidently relying to carry him back when all else failed, had
disappeared as entirely as the smoke from an extinguished opium pipe.
At this sight Yin clearly understood the meaning of Li-Kao’s unregarded
warning, and recognized that nothing could now save him from adding his
incorruptible parts to those of the unfortunate ones whose unhappy
fate had, seven days ago, engaged his refined pity. Unaccountably
strengthened in body by the indignation which possessed him, and
inspired with a virtuous repulsion at the treacherous manner of behaving
on the part of those who guided his destinies, he hastened back to
his place of obeisance, and perceiving that the habitually placid and
introspective expression on the dragon face had imperceptibly changed
into one of offensive cunning and unconcealed contempt, he snatched up
his spear and, without the consideration of a moment, hurled it at
a score of paces distance full into the sacred but nevertheless very
unprepossessing face before him.

At the instant when the presumptuous weapon touched the holy stone the
entire intervening space between the earth and the sky was filled with
innumerable flashes of forked and many-tongued lightning, so that the
island had the appearance of being the scene of a very extensive but
somewhat badly-arranged display of costly fireworks. At the same
time the thunder rolled among the clouds and beneath the sea in an
exceedingly disconcerting manner. At the first indication of these
celestial movements a sudden blindness came upon Yin, and all power of
thought or movement forsook him; nevertheless, he experienced an emotion
of flight through the air, as though borne upwards upon the back of a
winged creature. When this emotion ceased, the blindness went from him
as suddenly and entirely as if a cloth had been pulled away from his
eyes, and he perceived that he was held in the midst of a boundless
space, with no other object in view than the sacred rock, which had
opened, as it were, revealing a mighty throng within, at the sight of
whom Yin’s internal organs trembled as they would never have moved at
ordinary danger, for it was put into his spirit that these in whose
presence he stood were the sacred Emperors of his country from the
earliest time until the usurpation of the Chinese throne by the
devouring Tartar hordes from the North.

As Yin gazed in fear-stricken amazement, a knowledge of the various Pure
Ones who composed the assembly came upon him. He understood that the
three unclad and commanding figures which stood together were the
Emperors of the Heaven, Earth, and Man, whose reigns covered a space of
more than eighty thousand years, commencing from the time when the world
began its span of existence. Next to them stood one wearing a robe of
leopard-skin, his hand resting upon a staff of a massive club, while on
his face the expression of tranquillity which marked his predecessors
had changed into one of alert wakefulness; it was the Emperor of Houses,
whose reign marked the opening of the never-ending strife between man
and all other creatures. By his side stood his successor, the Emperor of
Fire, holding in his right hand the emblem of the knotted cord, by which
he taught man to cultivate his mental faculties, while from his mouth
issued smoke and flame, signifying that by the introduction of fire he
had raised his subjects to a state of civilized life.

On the other side of the boundless chamber which seemed to be contained
within the rocks were Fou-Hy, Tchang-Ki, Tcheng-Nung, and Huang,
standing or reclining together. The first of these framed the calendar,
organized property, thought out the eight Essential Diagrams, encouraged
the various branches of hunting, and the rearing of domestic animals,
and instituted marriage. From his couch floated melodious sounds
in remembrance of his discovery of the property of stringed woods.
Tchang-Ki, who manifested the property of herbs and growing plants, wore
a robe signifying his attainments by means of embroidered symbols.
His hand rested on the head of the dragon, while at his feet flowed a
bottomless canal of the purest water. The discovery of written letters
by Tcheng-Nung, and his ingenious plan of grouping them after the manner
of the constellations of stars, was emblemized in a similar manner,
while Huang, or the Yellow Emperor, was surrounded by ores of the
useful and precious metals, weapons of warfare, written books, silks
and articles of attire, coined money, and a variety of objects, all
testifying to his ingenuity and inspired energy.

These illustrious ones, being the greatest, were the first to take
Yin’s attention, but beyond them he beheld an innumerable concourse of
Emperors who not infrequently outshone their majestic predecessors in
the richness of their apparel and the magnificence of the jewels which
they wore. There Yin perceived Hung-Hoang, who first caused the chants
to be collected, and other rulers of the Tcheon dynasty; Yong-Tching,
who compiled the Holy Edict; Thang rulers whose line is rightly called
“the golden,” from the unsurpassed excellence of the composed verses
which it produced; renowned Emperors of the versatile Han dynasty; and,
standing apart, and shunned by all, the malignant and narrow-minded
Tsing-Su-Hoang, who caused the Sacred Books to be burned.

Even while Yin looked and wondered, in great fear, a rolling voice,
coming from one who sat in the midst of all, holding in his right hand
the sun, and in his left the moon, sounded forth, like the music of many
brass instruments playing in unison. It was the First Man who spoke.

“Yin, son of Yat Huang, and creature of the Lower Part,” he said,
“listen well to the words I speak, for brief is the span of your
tarrying in the Upper Air, nor will the utterance I now give forth ever
come unto your ears again, either on the earth, or when, blindly groping
in the Middle Distance, your spirit takes its nightly flight. They who
are gathered around, and whose voices I speak, bid me say this: Although
immeasurably above you in all matters, both of knowledge and of power,
yet we greet you as one who is well-intentioned, and inspired with
honourable ambition. Had you been content to entreat and despair, as did
all the feeble and incapable ones whose white bones formed your pathway,
your ultimate fate would have in no wise differed from theirs. But
inasmuch as you held yourself valiantly, and, being taken, raised an
instinctive hand in return, you have been chosen; for the day to mute
submission has, for the time or for ever, passed away, and the hour is
when China shall be saved, not by supplication, but by the spear.”

“A state of things which would have been highly unnecessary if I had
been permitted to carry out my intention fully, and restore man to his
prehistoric simplicity,” interrupted Tsin-Su-Hoang. “For that reason,
when the voice of the assemblage expresses itself, it must be understood
that it represents in no measure the views of Tsin-Su-Hoang.”

“In the matter of what has gone before, and that which will follow
hereafter,” continued the Voice dispassionately, “Yin, the son
of Yat-Huang, must concede that it is in no part the utterance of
Tsin-Su-Hoang--Tsin-Su-Hoang who burned the Sacred Books.”

At the mention of the name and offence of this degraded being a great
sound went up from the entire multitude--a universal cry of execration,
not greatly dissimilar from that which may be frequently heard in the
crowded Temple of Impartiality when the one whose duty it is to take up,
at a venture, the folded papers, announces that the sublime Emperor,
or some mandarin of exalted rank, has been so fortunate as to hold
the winning number in the Annual State Lottery. So vengeance-laden and
mournful was the combined and evidently preconcerted wail, that Yin
was compelled to shield his ears against it; yet the inconsiderable
Tsin-Su-Hoang, on whose account it was raised, seemed in no degree to
be affected by it, he, doubtless, having become hardened by hearing
a similar outburst, at fixed hours, throughout interminable cycles of
time.

When the last echo of the cry had passed away the Voice continued to
speak.

“Soon the earth will again receive you, Yin,” it said, “for it is not
respectful that a lower one should be long permitted to gaze upon our
exalted faces. Yet when you go forth and stand once more among men this
is laid on you: that henceforth you are as a being devoted to a fixed
and unchanging end, and whatever moves towards the restoring of the
throne of the Central Empire the outcast but unalterably sacred line of
its true sovereigns shall have your arm and mind. By what combination
of force and stratagem this can be accomplished may not be honourably
revealed by us, the all-knowing. Nevertheless, omens and guidance shall
not be lacking from time to time, and from the beginning the weapon by
which you have attained to this distinction shall be as a sign of our
favour and protection over you.”

When the Voice made an end of speaking the sudden blindness came upon
Yin, as it had done before, and from the sense of motion which he
experienced, he conjectured that he was being conveyed back to the
island. Undoubtedly this was the case, for presently there came upon him
the feeling that he was awakening from a deep and refreshing sleep,
and opening his eyes, which he now found himself able to do without
any difficulty, he immediately discovered that he was reclining at full
length on the ground, and at a distance of about a score of paces from
the dragon head. His first thought was to engage in a lengthy course
of self-abasement before it, but remembering the words which had been
spoken to him while in the Upper Air, he refrained, and even ventured to
go forward with a confident but somewhat self-deprecatory air, to
regain the spear, which he perceived lying at the foot of the rock. With
feelings of a reassuring nature he then saw that the very undesirable
expression which he had last beheld upon the dragon face had melted into
one of encouraging urbanity and benignant esteem.

Close by the place where he had landed he discovered his boat, newly
furnished with wine and food of a much more attractive profusion than
that which he had purchased in the village. Embarking in it, he made as
though he would have returned to the south, but the spear which he held
turned within his grasp, and pointed in an exactly opposite direction.
Regarding this fact as an express command on the part of the Deities,
Yin turned his boat to the north, and in the space of two days’
time--being continually guided by the fixed indication of the spear--he
reached the shore and prepared to continue his travels in the same
direction, upheld and inspired by the knowledge that henceforth he moved
under the direct influence of very powerful spirits.




IX.
THE ILL-REGULATED DESTINY OF KIN YEN, THE PICTURE-MAKER


  As recorded by himself before his sudden departure from Peking,
  owing to circumstances which are made plain in the following
  narrative.

There are moments in the life of a person when the saying of the wise
Ni-Hyu that “Misfortune comes to all men and to most women” is endowed
with double force. At such times the faithful child of the Sun is a prey
to the whitest and most funereal thoughts, and even the inspired
wisdom of his illustrious ancestors seems more than doubtful, while the
continued inactivity of the Sacred Dragon appears for the time to give
colour to the scoffs of the Western barbarian. A little while ago these
misgivings would have found no resting-place in the bosom of the writer.
Now, however--but the matter must be made clear from the beginning.

The name of the despicable person who here sets forth his immature story
is Kin Yen, and he is a native of Kia-Lu in the Province of Che-Kiang.
Having purchased from a very aged man the position of Hereditary
Instructor in the Art of Drawing Birds and Flowers, he gave lessons in
these accomplishments until he had saved sufficient money to journey
to Peking. Here it was his presumptuous intention to learn the art of
drawing figures in order that he might illustrate printed leaves of
a more distinguished class than those which would accept what true
politeness compels him to call his exceedingly unsymmetrical pictures
of birds and flowers. Accordingly, when the time arrived, he disposed of
his Hereditary Instructorship, having first ascertained in the interests
of his pupils that his successor was a person of refined morals and
great filial piety.

Alas! it is well written, “The road to eminence lies through the cheap
and exceedingly uninviting eating-houses.” In spite of this person’s
great economy, and of his having begged his way from Kia-Lu to Peking in
the guise of a pilgrim, journeying to burn incense in the sacred Temple
of Truth near that city, when once within the latter place his taels
melted away like the smile of a person of low class when he discovers
that the mandarin’s stern words were not intended as a jest. Moreover,
he found that the story-makers of Peking, receiving higher rewards
than those at Kia-Lu, considered themselves bound to introduce living
characters into all their tales, and in consequence the very ornamental
drawings of birds and flowers which he had entwined into a legend
entitled “The Last Fight of the Heaven-sent Tcheng”--a story which
had been entrusted to him for illustration as a test of his skill--was
returned to him with a communication in which the writer revealed his
real meaning by stating contrary facts. It therefore became necessary
that he should become competent in the art of drawing figures without
delay, and with this object he called at the picture-room of Tieng Lin,
a person whose experience was so great that he could, without discomfort
to himself, draw men and women of all classes, both good and bad. When
the person who is setting forth this narrative revealed to Tieng Lin the
utmost amount of money he could afford to give for instruction in the
art of drawing living figures, Tieng Lin’s face became as overcast as
the sky immediately before the Great Rains, for in his ignorance of
this incapable person’s poverty he had treated him with equality and
courtesy, nor had he kept him waiting in the mean room on the plea that
he was at that moment closeted with the Sacred Emperor. However, upon
receiving an assurance that a rumour would be spread in which the number
of taels should be multiplied by ten, and that the sum itself should be
brought in advance, Tieng Lin promised to instruct this person in the
art of drawing five characters, which, he said, would be sufficient
to illustrate all stories except those by the most expensive and
highly-rewarded story-tellers--men who have become so proficient that
they not infrequently introduce a score or more of living persons into
their tales without confusion.

After considerable deliberation, this unassuming person selected the
following characters, judging them to be the most useful, and the most
readily applicable to all phases and situations of life:

1. A bad person, wearing a long dark pigtail and smoking an opium pipe.
His arms to be folded, and his clothes new and very expensive.

2. A woman of low class. One who removes dust and useless things from
the rooms of the over-fastidious and of those who have long nails; she
to be carrying her trade-signs.

3. A person from Pe-ling, endowed with qualities which cause the
beholder to be amused. This character to be especially designed to go
with the short sayings which remove gravity.

4. One who, having incurred the displeasure of the sublime Emperor, has
been decapitated in consequence.

5. An ordinary person of no striking or distinguished appearance. One
who can be safely introduced in all places and circumstances without
great fear of detection.

After many months spent in constant practice and in taking measurements,
this unenviable person attained a very high degree of proficiency, and
could draw any of the five characters without hesitation. With renewed
hope, therefore, he again approached those who sit in easy-chairs, and
concealing his identity (for they are stiff at bending, and when once
a picture-maker is classed as “of no good” he remains so to the end, in
spite of change), he succeeded in getting entrusted with a story by
the elegant and refined Kyen Tal. This writer, as he remembered with
distrust, confines his distinguished efforts entirely to the doings of
sailors and of those connected with the sea, and this tale, indeed, he
found upon reading to be the narrative of how a Hang-Chow junk and its
crew, consisting mostly of aged persons, were beguiled out of their
course by an exceedingly ill-disposed dragon, and wrecked upon an island
of naked barbarians. It was, therefore, with a somewhat heavy stomach
that this person set himself the task of arranging his five characters
as so to illustrate the words of the story.

The sayings of the ancient philosopher Tai Loo are indeed very subtle,
and the truth of his remark, “After being disturbed in one’s dignity by
a mandarin’s foot it is no unusual occurrence to fall flat on the
face in crossing a muddy street,” was now apparent. Great as was the
disadvantage owing to the nature of the five characters, this became as
nothing when it presently appeared that the avaricious and clay-souled
Tieng Lin, taking advantage of the blindness of this person’s
enthusiasm, had taught him the figures so that they all gazed in the
same direction. In consequence of this it would have been impossible
that two should be placed as in the act of conversing together had not
the noble Kyen Tal been inspired to write that “his companions turned
from him in horror.” This incident the ingenious person who is recording
these facts made the subject of three separate drawings, and having
in one or two other places effected skilful changes in the writing, so
similar in style to the strokes of the illustrious Kyen Tal as to
be undetectable, he found little difficulty in making use of all his
characters. The risks of the future, however, were too great to be run
with impunity; therefore it was arranged, by means of money--for this
person was fast becoming acquainted with the ways of Peking--that an
emissary from one who sat in an easy-chair should call upon him for a
conference, the narrative of which appeared in this form in the _Peking
Printed Leaves of Thrice-distilled Truth:_

  The brilliant and amiable young picture-maker Kin Yen, in spite of
  the immediate and universal success of his accomplished efforts,
  is still quite rotund in intellect, nor is he, if we may use a
  form of speaking affected by our friends across the Hoang Hai,
  “suffering from swollen feet.” A person with no recognized
  position, but one who occasionally does inferior work of this
  nature for us, recently surprised Kin Yen without warning, and
  found him in his sumptuously appointed picture-room, busy with
  compasses and tracing-paper. About the place were scattered in
  elegant confusion several of his recent masterpieces. From the
  subsequent conversation we are in a position to make it known that
  in future this refined and versatile person will confine himself
  entirely to illustrations of processions, funerals, armies on the
  march, persons pursued by others, and kindred subjects which
  appeal strongly to his imagination. Kin Yen has severe emotions on
  the subject of individuality in art, and does not hesitate to
  express himself forcibly with reference to those who are content
  to degrade the names of their ancestors by turning out what he
  wittily describes as “so much of varied mediocrity.”

The prominence obtained by this pleasantly-composed notice--for it was
copied by others who were unaware of the circumstance of its origin--had
the desired effect. In future, when one of those who sit in easy-chairs
wished for a picture after the kind mentioned, he would say to his
lesser one: “Oh, send to the graceful and versatile Kin Yen; he becomes
inspired on the subject of funerals,” or persons escaping from prison,
or families walking to the temple, or whatever it might be. In that way
this narrow-minded and illiterate person was soon both looked at and
rich, so that it was his daily practice to be carried, in silk garments,
past the houses of those who had known him in poverty, and on these
occasions he would puff out his cheeks and pull his moustaches, looking
fiercely from side to side.

True are the words written in the elegant and distinguished Book of
Verses: “Beware lest when being kissed by the all-seeing Emperor, you
step upon the elusive banana-peel.” It was at the height of eminence in
this altogether degraded person’s career that he encountered the being
who led him on to his present altogether too lamentable condition.

Tien Nung is the earthly name by which is known she who combines all the
most illustrious attributes which have been possessed of women since the
days of the divine Fou-Hy. Her father is a person of very gross habits,
and lives by selling inferior merchandise covered with some of good
quality. Upon past occasions, when under the direct influence of Tien,
and in the hope of gaining some money benefit, this person may have
spoken of him in terms of praise, and may even have recommended friends
to entrust articles of value to him, or to procure goods on his advice.
Now, however, he records it as his unalterable decision that the father
of Tien Nung is by profession a person who obtains goods by stratagem,
and that, moreover, it is impossible to gain an advantage over him on
matters of exchange.

The events that have happened prove the deep wisdom of Li Pen when
he exclaimed “The whitest of pigeons, no matter how excellent in the
silk-hung chamber, is not to be followed on the field of battle.” Tien
herself was all that the most exacting of persons could demand, but
her opinions on the subject of picture-making were not formed by heavy
thought, and it would have been well if this had been borne in mind by
this person. One morning he chanced to meet her while carrying open in
his hands four sets of printed leaves containing his pictures.

“I have observed,” said Tien, after the usual personal inquiries had
been exchanged, “that the renowned Kin Yen, who is the object of the
keenest envy among his brother picture-makers, so little regards the
sacredness of his accomplished art that never by any chance does he
depict persons of the very highest excellence. Let not the words of an
impetuous maiden disarrange his digestive organs if they should seem
too bold to the high-souled Kin Yen, but this matter has, since she has
known him, troubled the eyelids of Tien. Here,” she continued, taking
from this person’s hand one of the printed leaves which he was carrying,
“in this illustration of persons returning from extinguishing a fire,
is there one who appears to possess those qualities which appeal to
all that is intellectual and competitive within one? Can it be that the
immaculate Kin Yen is unacquainted with the subtle distinction between
the really select and the vastly ordinary? Ah, undiscriminating Kin Yen!
are not the eyelashes of the person who is addressing you as threads
of fine gold to junk’s cables when compared with those of the extremely
commonplace female who is here pictured in the art of carrying a bucket?
Can the most refined lack of vanity hide from you the fact that your own
person is infinitely rounder than this of the evilly-intentioned-looking
individual with the opium pipe? O blind Kin Yen!”

Here she fled in honourable confusion, leaving this person standing in
the street, astounded, and a prey to the most distinguished emotions of
a complicated nature.

“Oh, Tien,” he cried at length, “inspired by those bright eyes, narrower
than the most select of the three thousand and one possessed by the
sublime Buddha, the almost fallen Kin Yen will yet prove himself worthy
of your esteemed consideration. He will, without delay, learn to draw
two new living persons, and will incorporate in them the likenesses
which you have suggested.”

Returning swiftly to his abode, he therefore inscribed and despatched
this letter, in proof of his resolve:

“To the Heaven-sent human chrysanthemum, in whose body reside the
Celestial Principles and the imprisoned colours of the rainbow.

“From the very offensive and self-opinionated picture-maker.

“Henceforth this person will take no rest, nor eat any but the commonest
food, until he shall have carried out the wishes of his one Jade Star,
she whose teeth he is not worthy to blacken.

“When Kin Yen has been entrusted with a story which contains a being in
some degree reflecting the character of Tien, he will embellish it with
her irreproachable profile and come to hear her words. Till then he bids
her farewell.”

From that moment most of this person’s time was necessarily spent in
learning to draw the two new characters, and in consequence of this he
lost much work, and, indeed, the greater part of the connexion which
he had been at such pains to form gradually slipped away from him. Many
months passed before he was competent to reproduce persons resembling
Tien and himself, for in this he was unassisted by Tieng Lin, and his
progress was slow.

At length, being satisfied, he called upon the least fierce of those
who sit in easy-chairs, and requested that he might be entrusted with a
story for picture-making.

“We should have been covered with honourable joy to set in operation
the brush of the inspired Kin Yen,” replied the other with agreeable
condescension; “only at the moment, it does not chance that we have
before us any stories in which funerals, or beggars being driven from
the city, form the chief incidents. Perhaps if the polished Kin Yen
should happen to be passing this ill-constructed office in about six
months’ time--”

“The brush of Kin Yen will never again depict funerals, or labourers
arranging themselves to receive pay or similar subjects,” exclaimed this
person impetuously, “for, as it is well said, ‘The lightning discovers
objects which the paper-lantern fails to reveal.’ In future none
but tales dealing with the most distinguished persons shall have his
attention.”

“If this be the true word of the dignified Kin Yen, it is possible that
we may be able to animate his inspired faculties,” was the response.
“But in that case, as a new style must be in the nature of an
experiment, and as our public has come to regard Kin Yen as the
great exponent of Art Facing in One Direction, we cannot continue the
exceedingly liberal payment with which we have been accustomed to reward
his elegant exertions.”

“Provided the story be suitable, that is a matter of less importance,”
 replied this person.

“The story,” said the one in the easy-chair, “is by the refined
Tong-king, and it treats of the high-minded and conscientious doubts
of one who would become a priest of Fo. When preparing for this
distinguished office he discovers within himself leanings towards
the religion of Lao-Tse. His illustrious scruples are enhanced by his
affection for Wu Ping, who now appears in the story.”

“And the ending?” inquired this person, for it was desirable that the
two should marry happily.

“The inimitable stories of Tong-king never have any real ending, and
this one, being in his most elevated style, has even less end than
most of them. But the whole narrative is permeated with the odour of
joss-sticks and honourable high-mindedness, and the two characters are
both of noble birth.”

As it might be some time before another story so suitable should be
offered, or one which would afford so good an opportunity of wafting
incense to Tien, and of displaying her incomparable outline in dignified
and magnanimous attitudes, this was eagerly accepted, and for the next
week this obscure person spent all his days and nights in picturing the
lovely Tien and his debased self in the characters of the nobly-born
young priest of Fo and Wu Ping. The pictures finished, he caused them to
be carefully conveyed to the office, and then, sitting down, spent
many hours in composing the following letter, to be sent to Tien,
accompanying a copy of the printed leaves wherein the story and his
drawing should appear:

“When the light has for a period been hidden from a person, it is
no uncommon thing for him to be struck blind on gazing at the sun;
therefore, if the sublime Tien values the eyes of Kin Yen, let her hide
herself behind a gauze screen on his approach.

“The trembling words of Tien have sunk deep into the inside of Kin Yen
and become part of his being. Never again can he depict persons of the
quality and in the position he was wont to do.

“With this he sends his latest efforts. In each case he conceives his
drawings to be the pictures of the written words; in the noble Tien’s
case it is undoubtedly so, in his own he aspires to it. Doubtless the
unobtrusive Tien would make no claim to the character and manner of
behaving of the one in the story, yet Kin Yen confidently asserts that
she is to the other as the glove is to the hand, and he is filled with
the most intelligent delight at being able to exhibit her in her true
robes, by which she will be known to all who see her, in spite of her
dignified protests. Kin Yen hopes; he will come this evening after
sunset.”

The week which passed between the finishing of the pictures and the
appearance of the eminent printed leaves containing them was the longest
in this near-sighted person’s ill-spent life. But at length the day
arrived, and going with exceedingly mean haste to the place of sale, he
purchased a copy and sent it, together with the letter of his honourable
intention, on which he had bestowed so much care, to Tien.

Not till then did it occur to this inconsiderable one that the
impetuousness of his action was ill-judged; for might it not be that the
pictures were evilly-printed, or that the delicate and fragrant words
painting the character of the one who now bore the features of Tien had
undergone some change?

To satisfy himself, scarce as taels had become with him, he purchased
another copy.

There are many exalted sayings of the wise and venerable Confucious
constructed so as to be of service and consolation in moments of strong
mental distress. These for the greater part recommend tranquillity
of mind, a complete abnegation of the human passions and the
like behaviour. The person who is here endeavouring to bring this
badly-constructed account of his dishonourable career to a close
pondered these for some moments after twice glancing through the matter
in the printed leaves, and then, finding the faculties of speech and
movement restored to him, procured a two-edged knife of distinguished
brilliance and went forth to call upon the one who sits in an
easy-chair.

“Behold,” said the lesser one, insidiously stepping in between this
person an the inner door, “my intellectual and all-knowing chief is not
here to-day. May his entirely insufficient substitute offer words of
congratulation to the inspired Kin Yen on his effective and striking
pictures in this week’s issue?”

“His altogether insufficient substitute,” answered this person, with
difficulty mastering his great rage, “may and shall offer words of
explanation to the inspired Kin Yen, setting forth the reason of his
pictures being used, not with the high-minded story of the elegant
Tong-king for which they were executed, but accompanying exceedingly
base, foolish, and ungrammatical words written by Klan-hi, the Peking
remover of gravity--words which will evermore brand the dew-like Tien
as a person of light speech and no refinement”; and in his agony this
person struck the lacquered table several times with his elegant knife.

“O Kin Yen,” exclaimed the lesser one, “this matter rests not here. It
is a thing beyond the sphere of the individual who is addressing you.
All he can tell is that the graceful Tong-king withdrew his exceedingly
tedious story for some reason at the final moment, and as your eminent
drawings had been paid for, my chief of the inner office decided to use
them with this story of Klan-hi. But surely it cannot be that there is
aught in the story to displease your illustrious personality?”

“Judge for yourself,” this person said, “first understanding that the
two immaculate characters figuring as the personages of the narrative
are exact copies of this dishonoured person himself and of the willowy
Tien, daughter of the vastly rich Pe-li-Chen, whom he was hopeful of
marrying.”

Selecting one of the least offensive of the passages in the work, this
unhappy person read the following immature and inelegant words:

“This well-satisfied writer of printed leaves had a highly-distinguished
time last night. After Chow had departed to see about food, and the junk
had been fastened up at the lock of Kilung, on the Yang-tse-Kiang, he
and the round-bodied Shang were journeying along the narrow path by the
river-side when the right leg of the graceful and popular person who
is narrating these events disappeared into the river. Suffering no
apprehension in the dark, but that the vanishing limb was the left leg
of Shang, this intelligent writer allowed his impassiveness to melt away
to an exaggerated degree; but at that moment the circumstance became
plain to the round-bodied Shang, who was in consequence very grossly
amused at the mishap and misapprehension of your good lord, the writer,
at the same time pointing out the matter as it really was. Then it
chanced that there came by one of the maidens who carry tea and jest for
small sums of money to the sitters at the little tables with round white
tops, at which this remarkable person, the confidant of many mandarins,
ever desirous of displaying his priceless power of removing gravity,
said to her:

“‘How much of gladness, Ning-Ning? By the Sacred Serpent this is plainly
your night out.’

“Perceiving the true facts of the predicament of this commendable
writer, she replied:

“‘Suffer not your illustrious pigtail to be removed, venerable Wang; for
in this maiden’s estimation it is indeed your night in.’

“There are times when this valued person wonders whether his method
of removing gravity be in reality very antique or quite new. On such
occasions the world, with all its schools, and those who interfere in
the concerns of others, continues to revolve around him. The wondrous
sky-lanterns come out silently two by two like to the crystallized music
of stringed woods. Then, in the mystery of no-noise, his head becomes
greatly enlarged with celestial and highly-profound thoughts; his
groping hand seems to touch matter which may be written out in his
impressive style and sold to those who print leaves, and he goes home to
write out such.”

When this person looked up after reading, with tears of shame in his
eyes, he perceived that the lesser one had cautiously disappeared.
Therefore, being unable to gain admittance to the inner office, he
returned to his home.

Here the remark of the omniscient Tai Loo again fixes itself upon the
attention. No sooner had this incapable person reached his house than he
became aware that a parcel had arrived for him from the still adorable
Tien. Retiring to a distance from it, he opened the accompanying letter
and read:

“When a virtuous maiden has been made the victim of a heartless jest or
a piece of coarse stupidity at a person’s hands, it is no uncommon thing
for him to be struck blind on meeting her father. Therefore, if the
degraded and evil-minded Kin Yen values his eyes, ears, nose, pigtail,
even his dishonourable breath, let him hide himself behind a fortified
wall at Pe-li-Chen’s approach.

“With this Tien returns everything she has ever accepted from Kin Yen.
She even includes the brace of puppies which she received anonymously
about a month ago, and which she did not eat, but kept for reasons of
her own--reasons entirely unconnected with the vapid and exceedingly
conceited Kin Yen.”

As though this letter, and the puppies of which this person now heard
for the first time, making him aware of the existence of a rival lover,
were not enough, there almost immediately arrived a letter from Tien’s
father:

“This person has taken the advice of those skilled in extorting money by
means of law forms, and he finds that Kin Yen has been guilty of a grave
and highly expensive act. This is increased by the fact that Tien had
conveyed his seemingly distinguished intentions to all her friends,
before whom she now stands in an exceedingly ungraceful attitude. The
machinery for depriving Kin Yen of all the necessaries of existence
shall be put into operation at once.”

At this point, the person who is now concluding his obscure and
commonplace history, having spent his last piece of money on joss-sticks
and incense-paper, and being convinced of the presence of the spirits of
his ancestors, is inspired to make the following prophecies: That Tieng
Lin, who imposed upon him in the matter of picture-making, shall come
to a sudden end, accompanied by great internal pains, after suffering
extreme poverty; that the one who sits in an easy-chair, together with
his lesser one and all who make stories for them, shall, while sailing
to a rice feast during the Festival of Flowers, be precipitated into the
water and slowly devoured by sea monsters, Klan-hi in particular being
tortured in the process; that Pel-li-Chen, the father of Tien, shall
be seized with the dancing sickness when in the presence of the august
Emperor, and being in consequence suspected of treachery, shall, to
prove the truth of his denials, be submitted to the tests of boiling
tar, red-hot swords, and of being dropped from a great height on to the
Sacred Stone of Goodness and Badness, in each of which he shall fail to
convince his judges or to establish his innocence, to the amusement of
all beholders.

These are the true words of Kin Yen, the picture-maker, who, having
unweighed his mind and exposed the avaricious villainy of certain
persons, is now retiring by night to a very select and hidden spot in
the Khingan Mountains.