The Awakening of China by W.A.P. Martin

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In the absence of any explanation it may be concluded that during
the suspension of hostilities negotiations were proceeding which
resulted not in the destruction of the natives, but in their
incorporation with their more civilised neighbours. This first
recorded amalgamation of the kind was doubtless an instance of
a process of growth that continued for many centuries, resulting
in the absorption of all the native tribes on the north of the
Yang-tse and of most of those on the south. The expanding state
was eventually composed of a vast body of natives who submitted
[Page 69]
to their civilised conquerors, much as the people of Mexico and
Peru consented to be ruled by a handful of Spaniards.[*]

[Footnote *: To this day, the bulk of the people in those countries
show but small traces of Spanish blood. Juarez, the famous dictator,
was a pure Indian.]

As late as the Christian era any authentic account of permanent
conquests in China to the south of the "Great River" is still wanting,
though warlike expeditions in that direction were not infrequent. The
people of the northern provinces called themselves _Han-jin_,
"men of Han" or "sons of Han," while those of the south styled
themselves _T'ang-jin_, "men of T'ang." Does not this indicate
that, while the former were moulded into unity by the great dynasty
which took its name from the river Han (206 B. c.), the latter
did not become Chinese until the brilliant period of the T'angs,
nearly a thousand years later? Further confirmation need not be
adduced to show that the empire of the Far East contemporary with,
and superior in civilisation to, ancient Rome, embraced less than
the eighteen provinces of China Proper. Of the nine districts into
which it was divided by Ta-yue, 2100 B. C. not one was south of
the "Great River."

[Page 70]
CHAPTER XIV

THE MYTHICAL PERIOD

_Account of Creation--P'an-ku, the Ancient Founder--The Three
Sovereigns--The Five Rulers, the Beginnings of Human Civilisation--The
Golden Age--Yau, the Unselfish Monarch--Shun, the Paragon of Domestic
Virtues--Story of Ta-yue--Rise of Hereditary Monarchy_

Unlike the Greeks and Hindoos, the Chinese are deficient in the sort
of imagination that breeds a poetical mythology. They are not, however,
wanting in that pride of race which is prone to lay claim to the past
as well as to the future. They have accordingly constructed, not a
mythology, but a fictitious history which begins with the creation of
the world.

How men and animals were made they do not say; but they assert that
heaven and earth were united in a state of chaos until a divine man,
whom they call P'an-ku, the "ancient founder," rent them asunder.
Pictures show him wielding his sledge-hammer and disengaging sun
and moon from overlying hills--a grotesque conception in strong
contrast with the simple and sublime statement, "God said, 'Let
there be light' and there was light." P'an-ku was followed by a
divine being named Nue-wa, in regard to whom it
[Page 71]
is doubtful whether to speak in the feminine or in the masculine
gender. Designated queen more frequently than king, it is said
of her that, a portion of the sky having fallen down (probably
owing to the defective work of her predecessor), she rebuilt it
with precious stones of many colours. _Lien shih pu tien_,
"to patch the sky with precious stones," is a set phrase by which
the Chinese indicate that which is fabulous and absurd.

Instead of filling the long interval between the creation of the
world and the birth of history with gods and fairies, the Chinese
cover that period by three sovereigns whom they call after their
favourite triad, heaven, earth, and man, giving them the respective
titles Tien-hwang, Ti-hwang, and Jin-hwang. Each of these reigned
eighteen thousand years; but what they reigned over is not apparent.
At all events they seem to have contributed little to the comfort
of their people; for at the close of that long period the wretched
inhabitants of the empire--the only country then known to exist
on earth--had no houses, no clothes, no laws, and no letters.

Now come five personages who, in accordance with Chinese historical
propriety, are likewise invested with imperial dignity and are
called Wu-ti, "the five rulers." Collectively they represent the
first appearance of the useful arts, the rude beginnings of human
civilisation. One of these rulers, noticing that birds constructed
nests, taught his people to build huts, from which he is called the
"nest builder." Another was the Prometheus of his day and obtained
fire, not, however, by stealing it from the sun, but by
[Page 72]
honestly working for it with two pieces of wood which he rubbed
together. The third of these rulers, named Fuhi, appears to have been
the teacher of his people in the art of rearing domestic animals;
in other words, the initiator of pastoral life, and possibly the
originator of sacrificial offerings. The fourth in order introduced
husbandry. As has been stated in a previous chapter (see page 36),
he has no name except Shin-nung, "divine husbandman"; and under
that title he continues to be worshipped at the present day as
the Ceres of China. The Emperor every spring repairs to his temple
to plough a few furrows by way of encouragement to his people. The
last of the five personages is called the "yellow ruler," whether
from the colour of his robes, or as ruler of the yellow race, is
left in doubt. He is credited with the invention of letters and
the cycle of sixty years, the foundation of Chinese chronology
(2700 B. C.).

Unlike the long twilight which precedes the dawn in high latitudes,
the semi-mythical age was brief, covering no more than two reigns,
those of Yao and Shun. Confucius regarded these as included in
the "five rulers." To make room for them, he omits the first two;
and he seldom refers to the others, but appears to accept them as
real personages. He is no critic; but he has shown good sense in
drawing the line no further back. He has made the epoch of these
last a golden age (2356-2206) which is not the creation of a poet,
but the conception of a philosopher who wished to have an open space
on which to build up his political theories. He found, moreover,
in these primitive times some features by which he was
[Page 73]
greatly fascinated. The simplicity and freedom which appeared to
prevail in those far-off days were to him very attractive.

It is related that Yao, the type of an unselfish monarch, while
on a tour of inspection in the disguise of a peasant, heard an
old man singing this song to the notes of his guitar:

"I plough my ground and eat my own bread,
I dig my well and drink my own water:
What use have I for king or court?"

Yao returned to his palace, rejoicing that the state of his country
was such that his people were able to forget him.

Another feature which the Chinese hold up in bold relief is the fact
that in those days the occupancy of the throne was not hereditary.
Yao is said to have reigned a hundred years. When he was growing old
he saw with grief that his son showed no signs of being a worthy
successor. Setting him aside, therefore, he asked his ministers
to recommend someone as his heir. They all agreed in nominating
Shun. "What are his merits?" asked the King. "Filial piety and
fraternal kindness," they replied. "By these virtues he has wrought
a reform in a family noted for perverseness." The King desiring
to know the facts, they related the following story:

"Shun's father is an ill-natured, blind man. He has a cruel stepmother
and a selfish, petulant younger brother. This boy, the pet of his
parents, treated Shun with insolence; and the father and mother
joined in persecuting the elder son. Shun, without showing resentment,
cried aloud to Heaven and obtained
[Page 74]
patience to bear their harshness. By duty and affection he has won
the hearts of all three." "Bring him before me," said the King; "I
have yet another trial by which to test his virtues." Yao made him
his son-in-law, giving him his two daughters at once. He wished to
see whether the good son and brother would also be a good husband and
father--an example for his people in all their domestic relations.
Shun accepted the test with becoming resignation and comported
himself to the satisfaction of the old king, who raised him to the
throne. After a reign of fifty years, partly as Yao's associate,
Shun followed the example of his father-in-law. Passing by his
own son, he left the throne to Ta-yue or Yue, a man who had been
subjected to trials far more serious than that of having to live
in the same house with a pair of pretty princesses.

A question discussed in the school of Mencius, many centuries later,
may be cited here for the light it throws on the use made by Chinese
schoolmen of the examples of this period. "Suppose," said one of
his students, "that Shun's father had killed a man, would Shun,
being king, have allowed him to be condemned?" "No," replied the
master; "he would have renounced the throne and, taking his father
on his shoulders, he would have fled away to the seaside, rejoicing
in the consciousness of having performed the duty of a filial son."
Shun continues to be cited as the paragon of domestic virtues,
occupying the first place in a list of twenty-four who are noted
for filial piety.

The trial by which the virtues of Ta-yue were proved
[Page 75]
was an extraordinary feat of engineering--nothing less than the
subduing of the waters of a deluge. "The waters," said the King,
"embosom the high hills and insolently menace heaven itself. Who
will find us a man to take them in hand and keep them in place?"
His ministers recommended one Kun. Kun failed to accomplish the
task, and Shun, who in this case hardly serves for the model of a
just ruler, put him to death. Then the task was imposed on Ta-yue, the
son of the man who had been executed. After nine years of incredible
hardships he brought the work to a successful termination. During this
time he extended his care to the rivers of more than one province,
dredging, ditching, and diking. Three times he passed his own door
and, though he heard the cries of his infant son, he did not once
enter his house. The son of a criminal who had suffered death,
a throne was the meed of his diligence and ability.

A temple in Hanyang, at the confluence of two rivers, commemorates
Ta-yue's exploit, which certainly throws the labours of Hercules
completely into the shade. On the opposite side of the river stands
a pillar, inscribed in antique hieroglyphics, which professes to
record this great achievement. It is a copy of one which stands
on Mount Hang; and the characters, in the tadpole style, are so
ancient that doubts as to their actual meaning exist among scholars
of the present day. Each letter is accordingly accompanied by its
equivalent in modern Chinese. The stone purports to have been erected
by Ta-yue himself--good ground for suspicion--but it has been
[Page 76]
proved to be a fabrication of a later age, though still very ancient.[*]

[Footnote *: Dr. Haenisch of Berlin has taken great pains to expose
the imposture.]

In the two preceding reigns the sovereign had always consulted
the public good rather than family interest--a form of monarchy
which the Chinese call elective, but which has never been followed,
save that the Emperor exercises the right of choice among his sons
irrespective of primogeniture. The man who bears the odium of having
departed from the unselfish policy of Yao and Shun is this same
Ta-yue. He left the throne to his son and, as the Chinese say, "made
of the empire a family estate."

This narrative comes from the _Shu-King_ or "Book of History,"
the most venerated of the Five Classics edited by Confucius; but
the reader will readily perceive that it is no more historical
than the stories of Codrus or Numa Pompilius.

In the reign of Yao we have an account of astronomical observations
made with a view to fixing the length of the year. The King tells
one man to go to the east and another to the west, to observe the
culmination and transit of certain stars. As a result he says they
will find that the year consists of 366 days, a close approximation
for that epoch. The absurdity of this style, which attributes
omniscience to the prince and leaves to his agents nothing but
the task of verification, should not be allowed to detract from
the credit due to their observations. The result arrived at was
about the same as that reached by the Babylonians at the same date
(2356 B. c.)

Other rulers who are credited with great inventions
[Page 77]
probably made them in the same way. Whether under Fuhi or Hwang-ti,
Ts'ang-kie is recognised as the Cadmus of China, the author of its
written characters; and Tanao, a minister of Hwang-ti, is admitted
to be the author of the cycle of sixty. Both of those emperors
may be imagined as calling up their ministers and saying to one,
"Go and invent the art of writing," and to the other, "Work out
a system of chronology."

In the same way, the inception of the culture of the silkworm and the
discovery of the magnetic needle are attributed to the predecessors
of Yao, probably on the principle that treasure-trove was the property
of the King and that if no claimant for the honour could be found
it must be attributed to some ancient monarch. The production of
silk, as woman's work, they profess to assign to the consort of one
of those worthies--a thing improbable if not impossible, her place
of residence being in the north of China. Their picture-writing tells
a different tale. Their word for a southern barbarian, compounded of
"silk" and "worm," points to the south as the source of that useful
industry, much as our word "silk," derived from _sericum_,
points to China as its origin.

[Page 78]
CHAPTER XV

THE THREE DYNASTIES

_The House of Hia--Ta-yu's Consideration for His Subjects--Kie's
Excesses--The House of Shang--Shang-tang, the Founder, Offers Himself
as a Sacrificial Victim, and Brings Rain--Chou-sin Sets Fire to
His Own Palace and Perishes in the Flames--The House of Chou_

The Hia, Shang and Chou dynasties together extend over the twenty-two
centuries preceding the Christian Era. The first occupies 440 years;
the second, 644; and the last, in the midst of turmoil and anarchy,
drags out a miserable existence of 874 years. They are grouped
together as the San Tai or San Wang, "the Three Houses of Kings,"
because that title was employed by the founder of each. Some of
their successors were called _Ti_; but _Hwang-ti_, the
term for "emperor" now in use, was never employed until it was
assumed by the builder of the Great Wall on the overthrow of the
feudal states and the consolidation of the empire, 240 B. C.

THE HOUSE OF HIA, 2205-1766 B. C.
(17 kings, 2 usurpers)

Unlike most founders of royal houses, who come to the throne through
a deluge of blood, Ta-yue, as has been shown in the last chapter,
climbed to that eminence
[Page 79]
through a deluge of water. Like Noah, the hero of an earlier deluge,
he seems to have indulged, for once at least, too freely in the use
of wine. A chapter in the "Book of History," entitled "A Warning
Against Wine," informs us that one Yiti having made wine presented
it to his prince. Ta-yue was delighted with it, but discontinued its
use, saying that in time to come kings would lose their thrones
through a fondness for the beverage. In China "wine" is a common
name for all intoxicating drinks. That referred to in this passage
was doubtless a distillation from rice or millet.

In the discharge of his public duties Ta-yue showed himself no less
diligent than in contending with the waters. He hung at his door a
bell which the poorest of his subjects might ring and thus obtain
immediate attention. It is said that when taking a bath, if he heard
the bell he sometimes rushed out without adjusting his raiment
and that while partaking of a meal, if the bell rang he did not
allow himself time to swallow his rice.

Prior to laying down his toilsome dignity Ta-yue caused to be cast
nine brazen tripods, each bearing an outline map or a description
of one of the provinces of the empire. In later ages these were
deemed preeminently the patent of imperial power. On one occasion a
feudal prince asked the question, "How heavy are these tripods?" A
minister of state, suspecting an intention to remove them and usurp
the power, replied in a long speech, proving the divine commission
of his master, and asked in conclusion, "Why then should you inquire
the weight of these tripods?"

[Page 80]
Of the subsequent reigns nothing worth repetition is recorded except
the fall of the dynasty. This, however, is due more to the meagreness
of the language of that day than to the insignificance of the seventeen
kings. Is it not probable that they were occupied in making good
their claim to the nine provinces emblazoned on the tripods?

Kie, the last king, is said to have fallen under the fascination
of a beautiful woman and to have spent his time in undignified
carousals. He built a mountain of flesh and filled a tank with
wine, and to amuse her he caused 3,000 of his courtiers to go on
all fours and drink from the tank like so many cows.

THE SHANG DYNASTY, 1766-1122 B. C.
(28 kings)

The founder of this dynasty was Shang-tang, or Cheng-tang, who to
great valour added the virtues of humanity and justice. Pitying
the oppressions of the people, he came to them as a deliverer;
and the frivolous tyrant was compelled to retire into obscurity.
A more remarkable exhibition of public spirit was the offering
of himself as a victim to propitiate the wrath of Heaven. In a
prolonged famine, his prayers having failed to bring rain, the
soothsayers said that a human victim was required. "It shall be
myself," he replied; and, stripping off his regal robes, he laid
himself on the altar. A copious shower was the response to this
act of devotion.

The successor of Shang-tang was his grandson T'ai-kia, who was under
the tutelage of a wise minister
[Page 81]
named I-yin. Observing the indolence and pleasure-loving disposition
of the young man, the minister sent him into retirement for three
years that he might acquire habits of sobriety and diligence. The
circumstance that makes this incident worth recording is that the
minister, instead of retaining the power in his own family, restored
the throne to its rightful occupant.

Another king of this house, by name P'an-keng, has no claim to
distinction other than that of having moved his capital five times.
As we are not told that he was pursued by vindictive enemies, we
are left to the conjecture that he was escaping from disastrous
floods, or, perhaps under the influence of a silly superstition,
was in quest of some luckier site.

Things went from bad to worse, and finally Chou-sin surpassed in
evil excesses the man who had brought ruin upon the House of Hia.
The House of Shang of course suffered the same fate. An ambitious
but kind-hearted prince came forward to succour the people, and
was welcomed by them as a deliverer. The tyrant, seeing that all
was lost, arrayed himself in festal robes, set fire to his own
palace, and, like another Sardanapalus, perished in the flames.

He and Kie make a couple who are held up to everlasting execration
as a warning to tyrannical princes. Like his remote predecessor,
Chou-sin is reputed to have been led into his evil courses by a
wicked woman, named Ta-ki. One suspects that neither one nor the
other stood in need of such prompting. According to history, bad
kings are generally worse than bad queens. In China, however, a
woman is considered out of place
[Page 82]
when she lays her hand on the helm of state. Hence the tendency
to blacken the names of those famous court beauties.

If Mencius may be believed, the tyrants themselves were not quite
so profligate as the story makes them. He says, "Dirty water has
a tendency to accumulate in the lowest sinks"; and he warns the
princes of his time not to put themselves in a position in which
future ages will continue to heap opprobrium on their memory.

Of the wise founders of this dynasty it is said that they "made
religion the basis of education," as did the Romans, who prided
themselves on devotion to their gods. In both cases natural religion
degenerated into gross superstition. In the number of their gods
the Chinese have exceeded the Romans; and they refer the worship
of many of them to the Shang dynasty.

The following dynasty, that of Chou (35 sovereigns, 1122-249 B.
C.) merits a separate chapter.

[Page 83]
CHAPTER XVI

HOUSE OF CHOU

_Wen-wang, the founder--Rise and Progress of Culture--Communistic
Land Tenure--Origin of the term "Middle Kingdom"--Duke Chou and
Cheng wang, "The Completer"--A Royal Traveller--Li and Yu, two
bad kings_

The merciful conqueror who at this time rescued the people from
oppression was Wu-wang, the martial king. He found, it is said, the
people "hanging with their heads downward" and set them on their
feet. On the eve of the decisive battle he harangued his troops,
appealing to the Deity as the arbiter, and expressing confidence in
the result. "The tyrant," he said, "has ten myriads of soldiers,
and I have but one myriad. His soldiers, however, have ten myriads
of hearts, while my army has but one heart."

When the battle had been fought and won he turned his war-horses
out to pasture and ordained that they should be forever free from
yoke and saddle. Could he have been less humane in the treatment
of his new subjects?

The credit of his victory he gave to ten wise counsellors, one
of whom was his mother. History, however, ascribes it in a large
degree to his father, Wen-wang,
[Page 84]
who was then dead, but who had prepared the way for his son's triumph.

Wen-wang, the Beauclerc of the Chous, is one of the most notable
figures in the ancient history of China. A vassal prince, by wise
management rather than by military prowess he succeeded in enlarging
his dominions so that he became possessor of two-thirds of the
empire. He is applauded for his wisdom in still paying homage to
his feeble chief. The latter, however, must have regarded him with
no little suspicion, as Wen-wang was thrown into prison, and only
regained his liberty at the cost of a heavy ransom. Wen-wang apparently
anticipated a mortal struggle; for it is related that, seeing an
old man fishing, he detected in him an able general who had fled
the service of the tyrant. "You," said he, "are the very man I
have been looking for"; and, taking him up into his chariot, as
Jehu did Jonadab, he rejoiced in the assurance of coming victory.
The fisherman was Kiang Tai Kung, the ancestor of the royal House
of Ts'i in Shantung. Though eighty-one years of age he took command
of the cavalry and presided in the councils of his new master.

Fitting it was that the Beauclerc, Wen-wang should be the real
founder of the new dynasty; for now for the first time those pictured
symbols become living blossoms from which the fruits of learning and
philosophy are to be gathered. The rise and progress of a generous
culture is the chief characteristic of the House of Chou. Besides
encouraging letters Wen-wang contributed much to the new literature.
He is known as a commentator in the _Yih-King_, "Book of Changes,"
[Page 85]
pronounced by Confucius the profoundest of the ancient classics--a
book which he never understood.

In theory there was under this and the preceding dynasty no private
ownership of land. The arable ground was laid out in plots of nine
squares, thus:

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| | | |
| | | |
|---|---|---|
| | | |
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Eight of these were assigned to the people to cultivate for themselves;
and the middle square was reserved for the government and tilled
by the joint labour of all. The simple-hearted souls of that day
are said to have prayed that the rains might first descend on the
public field and then visit their private grounds.

In later years this communistic scheme was found not to work perfectly,
owing, it is said, to the decay of public virtue. A statesman, named
Shangyang, converted the tenure of land into fee simple--a natural
evolution which was, however, regarded as quite too revolutionary
and earned for him the execrations of the populace.

The charming simplicity of the above little diagram would seem
to have suggested the arrangement of fiefs in the state, in which
the irregular feudality of former times became moulded into a
symmetrical system. The sovereign state was in the centre; and those
of the feudal barons were ranged on the four sides in successive
rows. The central portion was designated _Chung Kwoh_, "Middle
Kingdom," a title which has come to be applied to the whole empire,
implying, of course, that all the nations of the earth are its
vassals.

Laid out with the order of a camp and ruled with martial vigour,
the new state prospered for a few reigns.
[Page 86]
At length, however, smitten with a disease of the heart the members
no longer obeyed the behests of the head. Decay and anarchy are
written on the last pages of the history of the House of Chou.

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