The Middle Kingdom, Volume 1 (of 2) / A Survey of the Geography, Government, Literature, Social Life, Arts, and History of the Chinese Empire and its Inhabitants

The consideration of the theory and practice of the Chinese government recommends itself to the attention of the intelligent student of man by several peculiar reasons, among which are its acknowledged antiquity, the multitudes of people it rules, and the comparative quiet enjoyed by its subjects. The government of a heathen nation is so greatly modified by the personal character of the executive, and the people are so liable to confound institutions with men, either from imperfect acquaintance with the nature of those institutions, or from being, through necessity or habit, easily guided and swayed by designing and powerful men, that the long continuance of the Chinese polity is a proof both of its adaptation to the habits and condition of the people, and of its general good management. The antiquity and excellence of such a government, and its orderly administration, might, however, be far greater than it is in China, without being invested with the interest which at present attaches to it in that Empire in consequence of the immense population, whose lives and property, food and well-being, depend to so great a degree upon it. What was at first rather a feeling of curiosity, gradually becomes one of awe, when the evil results of misgovernment, or the beneficent effects of equitable rule, are seen to be so momentous.

The theory of the Chinese government is undoubtedly the patriarchal; the Emperor is the sire, his officers are the responsible elders of its provinces, departments, and districts, as every father of a household is of its inmates. This may, perhaps, be the theory of other governments, but nowhere has it been systematized so thoroughly, and acted upon so consistently and for so long a period, as in China. Two causes, mutually acting upon each other, have, more than anything else, combined to give efficiency to this theory. The ancient rule of Yau and Shun[217] was strictly, so far as the details are known, a patriarchal chieftainship, conferred upon them on account of their excellent character; and their successors under Yu of the Hia dynasty were considered as deriving their power from heaven, to whom they were amenable for its good use. When Chingtang, founder of the Shang dynasty, B.C. 1766, and Wu Wang, of the Chau, B.C. 1122, took up arms against the Emperors, the excuse given was that they had not fulfilled the decrees of heaven, and had thereby forfeited their claim to the throne.

Confucius, in teaching his principles of political ethics, referred to the conduct of those ancient kings both for proof of the correctness of his instructions and for arguments to enforce them. The large number of those who followed him during his lifetime furnishes some evidence that his countrymen assented to the propriety of his teachings. This may account for their reception, illustrated as they were by the high character the sage bore; but it was not till the lapse of two or three centuries that the rulers of China perceived the great security the adoption and diffusion of these doctrines would give their sway. They therefore turned their attention toward the embodiment of these precepts into laws, and toward basing the institutions of government upon them; through all the convulsions and wars which have disturbed the country and changed the reigning families, these writings have done more than any one thing else to uphold the institutions of the Chinese and give them their character and permanence. Education being founded on them, those who as students had been taught to receive and reverence them as the oracles of political wisdom, would, when they entered upon the duties of office, endeavor to carry out, in some degree at least, their principles. Thus the precept and the practice have mutually modified, supported, and enforced each other.

But this civilization is Asiatic and not European, pagan and not Christian. The institutions of China are despotic and defective, and founded on wrong principles. They may have the element of stability, but not of improvement. The patriarchal theory does not make men honorable, truthful, or kind; it does not place woman in her right position, nor teach all classes their obligations to their Maker; the wonder is, to those who know the strength of evil passions in the human breast, that this huge mass of mankind is no worse. We must, indeed, look into its structure in order to discover the causes of this stability, inasmuch as here we have neither a standing army to enforce nor the machinery of a state religion to compel obedience toward a sovereign. A short inspection will show that the great leading principles by which the present administration preserves its power over the people, consist in a system of strict surveillance and mutual responsibility among all classes. These are aided in their efficiency by the geographical isolation of the country, a remarkable spirit of loyal pride in their own history, and a general system of political education and official examinations.

These two principles are enforced by such a minute gradation of rank and subordination of offices as to give the government more of a military character than at first appears, and the whole system is such as to make it one of the most unmixed oligarchies now existing. It is like a network extending over the whole face of society, each individual being isolated in his own mesh but responsibly connected with all around him. The man who knows that it is almost impossible, except by entire seclusion, to escape from the company of secret or acknowledged emissaries of government, will be cautious of offending the laws of the country, knowing, as he must, that though he should himself escape, yet his family, his kindred, or his neighbors will suffer for his offence; that if unable to recompense the sufferers, it will probably be dangerous for him to return home; or if he does, it will be most likely to find his property in the possession of neighbors or officials, who feel conscious of security in plundering one whose offences have forever placed him under a ban.

The effect of these two causes upon the mass of the people is to imbue them with a great fear of the government, both of its officers and its operations; each man considers that safety is best to be found in keeping aloof from both. This mutual surveillance and responsibility, though only partially extended throughout the multitude, necessarily undermines confidence and infuses universal distrust; while this object of complete isolation, though at the expense of justice, truth, honesty, and natural affection, is what the government strives to accomplish and actually does to a wonderful degree. The idea of government in the minds of the uneducated people is that of some ever-present terror, like a sword of Damocles; and so far has this undefined fear of some untoward result when connected with it counteracted the real vigor of the Chinese, that to it may be referred much of their indifference to improvement, contentment with what is already known and possessed, and submission to petty injustice and spoliation.

Men are deterred, too, as much by distrust of each other as by fear of the police, from combining in an intelligent manner to resist governmental exactions because opposed to principles of equity, or joining with their rulers to uphold good order; no such men, and no such instances, as John Hampden going to prison for refusing to subscribe to a forced loan, or Thomas Williams and his companions throwing the tea overboard in Boston harbor, ever occurred in China or any other Asiatic country. They dread illegal societies quite as much from the cruelties this same distrust induces the leaders to exercise over recreant or suspected members, as from apprehension of arrest and punishment by the regular authorities. Thus, with a state of society at times on the verge of insurrection, this mass of people is kept in check by the threefold cord of responsibility, fear, and isolation, each of them strengthening the other, and all depending upon the character of the people for much of their efficiency. Since all the officers of government received their intellectual training when commoners under these influences, it is easy to understand why the supreme powers are so averse to improvement and to foreign intercourse—from both of which causes, in truth, the monarch has the greatest reason to dread lest the charm of his power be weakened and his sceptre pass away.

There is, however, a further explanation for the general peace which prevails to be found back of this. It is owing partly to the diffusion of a political education among the people—teaching them the principles on which all government is founded, and the reasons for those principles flowing from the patriarchal theory—and partly to their plodding, industrious character. A brief exposition of the construction and divisions of the central and provincial governments and their mutual relations, and the various duties devolving upon the departments and officers, will exhibit more of the operation of these principles.

Although the Emperor is regarded as the head of this great organization, as the fly-wheel which sets other wheels of the machine in motion, he is still considered as bound to rule according to the code of the land; and when there is a well-known law, though the source of law, he is expected to follow it in his decrees. The statutes of China form an edifice, the foundations of which were laid by Lí Kwei twenty centuries ago. Successive dynasties have been building thereon ever since, adding, altering, pulling down, and putting together as circumstances seemed to require. The people have a high regard for the code, “and all they seem to desire is its just and impartial execution, independent of caprice and uninfluenced by corruption. That the laws of China are, on the contrary, very frequently violated by those who are their administrators and constitutional guardians, there can, unfortunately, be no question; but to what extent, comparatively with the laws of other countries, must at present be very much a matter of conjecture: at the same time it may be observed, as something in favor of the Chinese system, that there are substantial grounds for believing that neither flagrant nor repeated acts of injustice do, in point of fact, often, in any rank or station, ultimately escape with impunity.”[218] Sir George Staunton is well qualified to speak on this point, and his opinion has been corroborated by most of those who have had similar opportunities of judging; while his translation of the Code has given all persons interested in the question the means of ascertaining the principles on which the government ostensibly acts.

This body of laws is called Ta Tsing Liuh Lí, i.e., ‘Statutes and Rescripts of the Great Pure Dynasty,’ and contains all the laws of the Empire. They are arranged under seven leading heads, viz.: General, Civil, Fiscal, Ritual, Military, and Criminal laws, and those relating to Public Works; and subdivided into four hundred and thirty-six sections, called liuh, or ‘statutes,’ to which the lí, or modern clauses, to limit, explain or alter them, are added; these are now much more numerous than the original statutes. A new edition is published by authority every five years; in the reprint of 1830 the Emperor ordered that the Supreme Court should make but few alterations, lest wily litigants might take advantage of the discrepancies between the new and old law to suit their own purposes. This edition is in twenty-eight volumes, and is one of the most frequently seen books in the shops of any city. The clauses are attached to each statute, and have the same force. No authorized reports of cases and decisions, either of the provincial or supreme courts, are published for general use, though their record is kept in the court where they are decided; the publication of such adjudged cases, as a guide to officers, is not unknown. An extensive collection of notes, comments, and cases, illustrating the practice and theory of the laws, was appended to the edition of 1799.

A short extract from the original preface of the Code, published in 1647, only three years after the Manchu Emperors took the throne, will explain the principles on which it was drawn up. After remarking upon the inconveniences arising from the necessity of aggravating or mitigating the sentences of the magistrates, who, previous to the re-establishment of an authentic code of penal laws, were not in possession of any fixed rules upon which they could build a just decision, the Emperor Shunchí goes on to describe the manner of revising the code:

“A numerous body of magistrates was assembled at the capital, at our command, for the purpose of revising the penal code formerly in force under the late dynasty of Ming, and of digesting the same into a new code, by the exclusion of such parts as were exceptionable and the introduction of others which were likely to contribute to the attainment of justice and the general perfection of the work. The result of their labors having been submitted to our examination, we maturely weighed and considered the various matters it contained, and then instructed a select number of our great officers of state carefully to revise the whole, for the purpose of making such alterations and emendations as might still be found requisite. Wherefore, it being now published, let it be your great care, officers and magistrates of the interior and exterior departments of our Empire, diligently to observe the same, and to forbear in future to give any decision, or to pass any sentence, according to your private sentiments, or upon your unsupported authority. Thus shall the magistrates and people look up with awe and submission to the justice of these institutions, as they find themselves respectively concerned in them; the transgressor will not fail to suffer a strict expiation of his crimes, and will be the instrument of deterring others from similar misconduct; and finally both officers and people will be equally secured for endless generations in the enjoyment of the happy effects of the great and noble virtues of our illustrious progenitors.”

Under the head of General Laws are forty-seven sections, comprising principles and definitions applicable to the whole, and containing some singular notions on equity and criminality. The description of the five ordinary punishments, definition of the ten treasonable offences, regulations for the eight privileged classes, and general directions regarding the conduct of officers of government, are the matters treated of under this head. The title of Section XLIV. is “On the decision of cases not provided for by law;” and the rule is that “such cases may then be determined by an accurate comparison with others which are already provided for, and which approach most nearly to those under investigation, in order to ascertain afterward to what extent an aggravation or mitigation of the punishment would be equitable. A provisional sentence conformable thereto shall be laid before the superior magistrates, and, after receiving their approbation, be submitted to the Emperor’s final decision. Any erroneous judgment which may be pronounced, in consequence of adopting a more summary mode of proceeding in cases of a doubtful nature, shall be punished as wilful deviation from justice.” This, of course, gives great latitude to the magistrate, and as he is thus allowed to decide and act before the new law can be confirmed or annulled, the chief restraints to his injustice in such cases (which, however, are not numerous) lie in the fear of an appeal and its consequences, or of summary reprisals from the suffering parties.

The six remaining divisions pertain to the six administrative boards of the government. The second contains Civil Laws, under twenty-eight sections, divided into two books, one of them referring to the system of government, and the other to the conduct of magistrates, etc. The hereditary succession of rank and titles is regulated, and punishments laid down for those who illegally assume these honors. Most of the nobility of China are Manchus, and none of the hereditary dignities existing previous to the conquest were recognized, except those attached to the family of Confucius. Improperly recommending unfit persons as deserving high honors, appointing and removing officers without the Emperor’s sanction, and leaving stations without due permission, are the principal subjects regulated in the first book. The second book contains rules regarding the interference of superior magistrates with the proceedings of the lower courts, and prohibitions against cabals and treasonable combinations among officers, which are of course capital crimes; all persons in the employ of the state are required to make themselves acquainted with the laws, and even private individuals “who are found capable of explaining the nature and comprehending the objects of the laws, shall receive pardon in all offences resulting purely from accident, or imputable to them only from the guilt of others, provided it be the first offence.”

The third division, of Fiscal Laws, under eighty-two sections, contains rules for enrolling the people, and of succession and inheritance; also laws for regulating marriages between various classes of society, for guarding granaries and treasuries, for preventing and punishing smuggling, for restraining usury, and for overseeing shops. Section LXXVI. orders that persons and families truly represent their profession in life, and restrains them from indulging in a change of occupation; “generation after generation they must not vary or alter it.” This rule is, however, constantly violated. Section XC. exempts the buildings of literary and religious institutions from taxation. The general aim of the laws relating to holding real estate is to secure the cultivation of all the land taken up, and the regular payment of the tax. The proprietor, in some cases, can be deprived of his lands because he does not till them, and though in fact owner in fee simple, he is restricted in the disposition of them by will in many ways, and forfeits them if the taxes are not paid.

The fourth division, of Ritual Laws, under twenty-six sections, contains the regulations for state sacrifices and ceremonies, those appertaining to the worship of ancestors, and whatever belongs to heterodox and magical sects or teachers. The heavy penalties threatened in some of these sections against all illegal combinations under the guise of a new form of worship presents an interesting likeness to the restrictions issued by the English, French, and German princes during and after the Reformation. The Chinese authorities had the same dread lest the people should meet and consult how to resist them. Even processions in honor of the gods may be forbidden for good reason, and are not allowed at all at Peking; while, still more, the rites observed by the Emperor cannot be imitated by any unauthorized person; women are not allowed to congregate in the temples, nor magicians to perform any strange incantations. Few of these laws are really necessary, and those against illegal sects are in fact levelled against political associations, which usually take on a religious guise.

The fifth division, of Military Laws, in seventy-one sections, provides for the protection of the palace and government of the army, for guarding frontier passes, management of the imperial cattle, and forwarding despatches by couriers. Some of these ordinances lay down rules for the protection of the Emperor’s person, and the disposition of his body-guard and troops in the palace, the capital, and over the Empire. The sections relating to the government of the army include the rules for the police of cities; and those designed to secure the protection of the frontier comprise all the enactments against foreign intercourse, some of which have already been referred to in passing. The supply of horses and cattle for the army is a matter of some importance, and is minutely regulated; one law orders all persons who possess vicious and dangerous animals to restrain them, and if through neglect any person is killed or wounded, the owner of the animal shall be obliged to redeem himself from the punishment of manslaughter by paying a fine. This provision to compel the owners of unruly beasts to exercise proper restraint over them is like that laid down by Moses in Exodus XXI., 29, 30. There is as yet no general post-office establishment, but governmental couriers often take private letters; local mails are safely carried by express companies. The required rate of travel for the official post is one hundred miles a day, but it does not ordinarily go more than half that distance. Officers of government are allowed ninety days to make the journey from Peking to Canton, a distance of twelve hundred miles, but couriers frequently travel it in twelve days.

The sixth division, on Criminal Laws, is arranged in eleven books, containing in all one hundred and seventy sections, and is the most important of the whole. The clauses under some of the sections are numerous, and show that it is not for want of proper laws or insufficient threatenings that crimes go unpunished. The books of this division relate to robbery, in which is included high treason and renunciation of allegiance; to homicide and murder; quarrelling and fighting; abusive language; indictments, disobedience to parents, and false accusations; bribery and corruption; forging and frauds; incest and adultery; arrests and escapes of criminals, their imprisonment and execution; and, lastly, miscellaneous offences.

Under Section CCCXXIX. it is ordered that any one who is guilty of addressing abusive language to his or her father or mother, or father’s parents, or a wife who rails at her husband’s parents or grandparents, shall be strangled; provided always that the persons so abused themselves complain to the magistrate, and had personally heard the language addressed to them. This law is the same in regard to children as that contained in Leviticus XX., 9, and the power here given the parent does not seem to be productive of evil. Section CCCLXXXI. has reference to “privately hushing up public crimes,” but its penalties are for the most part a dead letter, and a full account of the various modes adopted in the courts of withdrawing cases from the cognizance of superiors, would form a singular chapter in Chinese jurisprudence. Consequently those who refuse every offer to suppress cases are highly lauded by the people. Another section (CCCLXXXVI.) ordains that whoever is guilty of improper conduct, contrary to the spirit of the laws, but not a breach of any specific article, shall be punished at least with forty blows, and with eighty when of a serious nature. Some of the provisions of this part of the code are praiseworthy, but no part of Chinese legislation is so cruel and irregular as criminal jurisprudence. The permission accorded to the judge to torture the criminal opens the door for much inhumanity.

The seventh division contains thirteen sections relating to Public Works and Ways, such as the weaving of interdicted patterns of silk, repairing dikes, and constructing edifices for government. All public residences, granaries, treasuries and manufactories, embankments and dikes of rivers and canals, forts, walls, and mausolea, must be frequently examined, and kept in repair. Poverty or peculation render many of these laws void, and many subterfuges are often practised by the superintending officer to pocket as much of the funds as he can. One officer, when ordered to repair a wall, made the workmen go over it and chip off the faces of the stones still remaining, then plastering up the holes.

Besides these laws and their numerous clauses, every high provincial officer has the right to issue edicts upon such public matters as require regulation, some of them even affecting life and death, either reviving some old law or giving it an application to the case before him, with such modifications as seem to be necessary. He must report these acts to the proper board at Peking. No such order, which for the time has the force of law, is formally repealed, but gradually falls into oblivion, until circumstances again require its reiteration. This mode of publishing statutes gives rise to a sort of common and unwritten law in villages, to which a council of elders sometimes compels individuals to submit; long usage is also another ground for enforcing them.

Still, with all the tortures and punishments allowed by the law, and all the cruelties superadded upon the criminals by irritated officers or rapacious underlings and jailors, a broad survey of Chinese legislation, judged by its results and the general appearance of society, gives the impression of an administration far superior to other Asiatic countries. A favorable comparison has been made in the Edinburgh Review:[219] “By far the most remarkable thing in this code is its great reasonableness, clearness, and consistency, the business-like brevity and directness of the various provisions, and the plainness and moderation in which they are expressed. There is nothing here of the monstrous verbiage of most other Asiatic productions, none of the superstitious deliration, the miserable incoherence, the tremendous non-sequiturs and eternal repetitions of those oracular performances—nothing even of the turgid adulation, accumulated epithets, and fatiguing self-praise of other Eastern despotisms—but a calm, concise, and distinct series of enactments, savoring throughout of practical judgment and European good sense, and if not always conformable to our improved notions of expediency, in general approaching to them more nearly than the codes of most other nations. When we pass, indeed, from the ravings of the Zendavesta or the Puranas to the tone of sense and business in this Chinese collection, we seem to be passing from darkness to light, from the drivellings of dotage to the exercise of an improved understanding; and redundant and absurdly minute as these laws are in many particulars, we scarcely know any European code that is at once so copious and so consistent, or that is so nearly free from intricacy, bigotry, and fiction. In everything relating to political freedom or individual independence it is indeed wofully defective; but for the repression of disorder and the gentle coercion of a vast population, it appears to be equally mild and efficacious. The state of society for which it was formed appears incidentally to be a low and wretched one; but how could its framers have devised a wiser means of maintaining it in peace and tranquillity?”

This encomium is to a certain extent just, but the practice of legislation in China has probably not been materially improved by the mere possession of a reasonable code of laws, though some melioration in jurisprudence has been effected.[220] The infliction of barbarous punishments, such as blinding, cutting off noses, ears, or other parts of the body, still not uncommon in Persia and Turkey, is not allowed or practised in China; and the government, in minor crimes, contents itself with but little more than opprobrious exposure in the pillory, or castigation, which carry with them no degradation.

The defects in this remarkable body of laws arise from several sources. The degree of liberty that can safely be awarded to the subject is not defined in it, and his rights are unknown in law. The government is despotic, but having no efficient military power in their hands, the lawgivers resort to a minuteness of legislation upon the practice of social and relative virtues and duties which interferes with their observance; though it must be remembered that no pulpit or Sabbath-school exists there to expound and enforce them from a higher code, and the laws must be the chief guide in most cases. The code also exhibits a minute attention to trifles, and an effort to legislate for every possible contingency, which must perplex the judge when dealing with the infinite shades of difference occurring in human actions. There are now many vague and obsolete statutes, ready to serve as a handle to prosecute offenders for the gratification of private pique; and although usage and precedent both combine to prove their disuse, malice and bribery can easily effect their reviviscence and application to the case.

Sheer cruelty, except in cases of treason against the Emperor, cannot be charged against this code as a whole, though many of the laws seem designed to operate chiefly in terrorem, and the penalty is placed higher than the punishment really intended to be inflicted, to the end that the Emperor may have scope for mercy, or, as he says, “for leniency beyond the bounds of the law.” The principle on which this is done is evident, and the commonness of the practice proves that such an exercise of mercy has its effect. The laws of China are not altogether unmeaning words, though the degree of efficiency in their execution is subject to endless variations; some officers are clement, others severe; the people in certain provinces are industrious and peaceable, in others turbulent and averse to quiet occupations, so that one is likely to form a juster idea of their administration by looking at the results as seen in the general aspect of society, and judging of the tree by its fruits, than by drawing inferences applicable to the whole machine of state from particular instances of oppression and insubordination, as has been so often the case with travellers and writers.

The general examination of the Chinese government here proposed may be conveniently considered under the heads of the Emperor and his court, classes of society, the different branches of the supreme administration, the provincial authorities, and the execution of the laws.

The Emperor is at the head of the whole; and if the possession of great power, and being the object of almost unbounded reverence, can impart happiness, he may safely be considered as the happiest mortal living; though to his power there are many checks, and the reverence paid him is proportioned somewhat to the fidelity with which he administers the decrees of heaven. “The Emperor is the sole head of the Chinese constitution and government; he is regarded as the vice-gerent of heaven, especially chosen to govern all nations; and is supreme in everything, holding at once the highest legislative and executive powers, without limit or control.” Both he and the Pope claim to be the vice-gerent of heaven and interpreter of its decrees to the whole world, and these two rulers have emulated each other in their assumption of arrogant titles. The most common appellation employed to denote the Emperor in state papers and among the people is hwangtí, or ‘august sovereign;’ it is defined as “the appellation of one possessing complete virtues, and able to act on heavenly principles.”[221] This title is further defined as meaning heaven: “Heaven speaks not, yet the four seasons follow in regular succession, and all things spring forth. So the three august ones (Fuhhí, Shinnung, and Hwangtí) descended in state, and without even uttering a word the people bowed to their sway; their virtue was inscrutable and boundless like august heaven, and therefore were they called august ones.”

Among the numerous titles given the monarch may be mentioned hwang shang, the ‘august lofty one;’ tien hwang, ‘celestial august one;’ shing hwang, the ‘wise and august,’ i.e., infinite in knowledge and complete in virtue; tien tí, ‘celestial sovereign;’ and shing tí, ‘sacred sovereign,’ because he is able to act on heavenly principles. He is also called tien tsz’, ‘son of heaven,’ because heaven is his father and earth is his mother, and shing tien tsz’, ‘wise son of heaven,’ as being born of heaven and having infinite knowledge; terms which are given him as the ruler of the world by the gift of heaven. He is even addressed, and sometimes refers to himself, under designations which pertain exclusively to heaven. Wan sui yé, ‘sire of ten thousand years,’ is a term used when speaking of him or approaching him, like the words, O king, live forever! addressed to the ancient kings of Persia. Pí hia, ‘beneath the footstool,’ is a sycophantic compellation used by his courtiers, as if they were only worthy of being at the edge of his footstool.

The Emperor usually designates himself by the terms chin, ‘ourself;’ kwa jin, the ‘solitary man,’ or the one man; and kwa kiun, the ‘solitary prince.’ He has been loaded with many ridiculous titles by foreign writers, as Brother of the Sun and Moon, Grandson of the Stars, King of Kings, etc., but no such epithets are known among his subjects. His palace has various appellations, such as hall of audience, golden palace, the ninth entrance, vermilion avenue, vermilion hall, rosy hall, forbidden pavilion, the crimson and forbidden palace, gemmeous steps, golden steps, meridian portal, gemmeous avenue, celestial steps, celestial court, great interior, the maple pavilion, royal house, etc. To see him is to see the dragon’s face; the throne is called the “dragon’s throne,” and also the “divine utensil,” i.e., the thing given him by heaven to sit in when executing his divine mission; his person is styled the dragon’s body, and a five-clawed dragon is emblazoned, like a coat of arms, on his robes, which no one can use or imitate. Thus the Old Dragon, it might be almost said, has coiled himself around the Emperor of China, one of the greatest upholders of his power in this world, and contrived to get himself worshipped, through him, by one-third of mankind.

The Emperor is the fountain of power, rank, honor, and privilege to all within his dominions, which are termed tien hia, meaning all under heaven, and were till recently, even by his highest officers, ignorantly supposed to comprise all mankind. As there can be but one sun in the heavens, so there can be but one hwangtí on earth, the source and dispenser of benefits to the whole world.[222] The same absolute executive power held by him is placed in the hands of his deputies and governor-generals, to be by them exercised within the limits of their jurisdiction. He is the head of religion and the only one qualified to adore heaven; he is the source of law and dispenser of mercy; no right can be held in opposition to his pleasure, no claim maintained against him, no privilege protect from his wrath. All the forces and revenues of the Empire are his, and he has a right to claim the services of all males between sixteen and sixty. In short, the whole Empire is his property, and the only checks upon his despotism are public opinion, the want of an efficient standing army, poverty and the venality of the agents of his power.

When the Manchus found themselves in possession of Peking, they regarded this position as fully entitling them to assume all imperial rights. Their sovereign thus announced his elevation in November, 1644: “I, the Son of Heaven, of the Ta-tsing dynasty, humbly as a subject dare to announce to Imperial Heaven and Sovereign Earth. Though the world is vast, Shangtí looks on all without partiality. My Imperial Grandfather received the gracious decree of Heaven and founded a kingdom in the East, which became firmly established. My Imperial Father succeeding to the kingdom, extended it; and I, Heaven’s servant, in my poor person became the inheritor of the dominion they transmitted. When the Ming dynasty was coming to its end, traitors and men of violence appeared in crowds, involving the people in misery. China was without a ruler. It fell to me reverentially to accept the responsibility of continuing the meritorious work of my ancestors. I saved the people, destroyed their oppressors; and now, in accordance with the desires of all, I fix the urns of Empire at Yen-king.... I, receiving Heaven’s favor, and in accordance with their wishes, announce to Heaven that I have ascended the throne of the Empire, that the name I have chosen for it is the Great Pure, and that the style of my reign is Shun-chí (‘Obedient Rule’). I beg reverentially Heaven and Earth to protect and assist the Empire, so that calamity and disturbance may soon come to an end, and the land enjoy universal peace. For this I humbly pray, and for the acceptance of this sacrifice.”

The present Emperor is the ninth of the Tsing dynasty who has reigned in China. Tsing means Pure, and was taken by the Manchus as a distinctive term for their new dynasty, alluding to the purity of justice they intended to maintain in their sway. Some of the founders of the ancient dynasties derived their dynastic name from their patrimonial estates, as Sung, Han, Chau, etc., but the later ones have adopted names like Yuen, or ‘Original,’ Ming, or ‘Illustrious,’ etc., which indicate their vanity.

The present monarch is still a minor, and the affairs of government are nominally under the direction of the Empress-dowager, who held the same office during the minority of his predecessor, Tungchí. The surname of the reigning family is Gioro, or ‘Golden,’ derived from their ancestral chief, Aisin Gioro, whom they feign to have been the son of a divine virgin. They are the lineal descendants of the Kin, a rude race which drove out the Chinese rulers and occupied the northern provinces about 1130, making Peking their capital for many years. On the approach of the Mongols they were chased away to the east, and retained only a nominal independence; changing their name from Nüchih to Manjurs, they gradually increased in numbers, but did not assume any real importance until they became masters of China. The acknowledged founder of the reigning house was the chief Hien-tsu (1583-1615), whose actual descendants are collectively designated Tsung-shih, or ‘Imperial Clan.’ The second Emperor further limited the Clan by giving to each of his twenty-four sons a personal name of two characters, the first of which, Yun, was the same for all of them. For the succeeding generations he ordered a series of characters to be used by all the members of each, so that through all their ramifications the first name would show their position. Kanghí’s own name was Hiuen, then followed Yun, Hung, Yung, Mien, Yih, and Tsai, the last and present sovereigns being both named Tsai. All who bear this name are direct descendants of Kanghí. Since the application of these seven generation names, eight more have been selected for future use by imperial scions.

In order still further to distinguish those most nearly allied in blood, as sons, nephews, etc., it is required that the second names of each family always consist of characters under the same radical. Thus Kiaking and his brothers wrote their first names Yung, and under the radical gun for the second; Taukwang and his brothers and cousins Mien, and under the radical heart. For some unexplained reason the radicals silk and gold, chosen for the second names of the next two generations, were altered to words and water. This peculiarity is easily represented in the Chinese characters; a comparison can be made in English with the supposed names of a family of sons, as Louis Edward, Louis Edwin, Louis Edwy, Louis Edgar, etc., the word Louis answering to Mien, and the syllable Ed to the radical heart.

The present Emperor’s personal name is Tsai-tien, and, like those of his predecessors, is deemed to be too sacred to be spoken, or the characters to be written in the common form. The same reverence is observed for the names after death, so that twelve characters have been altered since the Manchu monarchs began to reign; Hiuen-wa, which was the personal name of Kanghí, has become permanently altered in its formation. The present sovereign was born August 15, 1871, and on January 12, 1875, succeeded his cousin Tsaishun, who died without issue—the first instance in the Gioro family for nearly three centuries. At this time there was some delay as to which of his cousins should succeed to the dragon throne, when the united council of the princes was led by the mother of the deceased Emperor to adopt her nephew, the son of Prince Chun. The little fellow was sent for at night to be immediately saluted as hwangtí, and ere long brought in before them, cross and sleepy as he was, to begin his reign under the style of Kwangsü, or ‘Illustrious Succession.’

This title is called a kwoh hao, or national designation, and answers more nearly to the name that a new Pope takes with the tiara than to anything else in western lands. It is the expression of the idea which the monarch wishes to associate with his reign, and is the name by which he is known to his subjects during his life. It has been called a period by some writers, but while it is not strictly his name, yet period is not so correct as reign. Usage has made it equivalent in foreign books to the personal name, and it is plainer to say the Emperor Taukwang than the period Taukwang or the reign Taukwang, or still more than to write, as Wade has done, “the Emperor Mien-Ning, the style of whose reign was Tau Kwang;” or than Legge has done, to say, “the Emperor Pattern, of the period Yungching.” In such cases it is not worth the trouble to attempt strict accuracy in a matter so entirely unlike western usages.

The use of the kwoh hao began with Wăn-tí, of the Han dynasty,[223] B.C. 179, and has continued ever since. Some of the early monarchs changed their kwoh hao many times during their reigns; Kao-tsung (A.D. 650-684), for example, had thirteen in a régime of thirty-four years, which induced historians to employ the miao hao, or ancestral name, as more suitable and less liable to confusion. The reason for thus investing the sovereign with a title different from his real name is not fully apparent, but arose probably out of the vanity of the monarch, who wished thus to glorify himself by a high-sounding title, and make his own name somewhat ineffable at the same time. The custom was adopted in Japan about A.D. 645, and is practised in Corea and Annam.

When a monarch ascends the throne, or as it is expressed in Chinese, “when he receives from Heaven and revolving nature the government of the world,” he issues an inaugural proclamation. There is not much change in the wording of these papers, and an extract from the one issued in 1821 will exhibit the practice on such occasions:

The programme of ceremonies to be observed when the Emperor “ascends the summit,” and seats himself on the dragon’s throne, was published for the Emperor Taukwang by the Board of Rites a few days after. It details a long series of prostrations and bowings, leading out and marshalling the various officers of the court and members of the imperial family. After they are all arranged in proper precedence before the throne, “at the appointed hour the president of the Board of Rites shall go and entreat his Majesty to put on his mourning, and come forth by the gate of the eastern palace, and enter at the left door of the middle palace, where his Majesty, before the altar of his deceased imperial father, will respectfully announce that he receives the decree—kneel thrice and bow nine times.”

He then retires, and soon after a large deputation of palace officers “go and solicit his Majesty to put on his imperial robes and proceed to the palace of his mother, the Empress-dowager, to pay his respects. The Empress-dowager will put on her court robes and ascend her throne, before which his Majesty shall kneel thrice and bow nine times.” After this filial ceremony is over the golden chariot is made ready, the officer of the Astronomical Board—whose business is to observe times—is stationed at the palace gate, and when he announces the arrival of the chosen and felicitous moment, his Majesty comes forth and mounts the golden chariot, and the procession advances to the Palace of Protection and Peace. Here the great officers of the Empire are marshalled according to their rank, and when the Emperor sits down in the palace they all kneel and bow nine times.

“This ceremony over, the President of the Board of Rites, stepping forward, shall kneel down and beseech his Majesty, saying, ‘Ascend the imperial throne.’ The Emperor shall then rise from his seat, and the procession moving on in the same order to the Palace of Peace, his Majesty shall ascend the seat of gems and sit down on the imperial throne, with his face to the south.” All present come forward and again make the nine prostrations, after which the proclamation of coronation, as it would be called in Europe, is formally sealed, and then announced to the Empire with similar ceremonies. There are many other lesser rites observed on these occasions, some of them appropriate to such an occasion, and others, according to our notions, bordering on the ludicrous; the whole presenting a strange mixture of religion, splendor, and farce, though as a whole calculated to impress all with a sentiment of awe toward one who gives to heaven, and receives from man, such homage and worship.[224]