The power of a Chinese father over his children is complete except that it stops short with life. The practice of selling children is common, and though the law makes it a punishable offense, should the sale be effected against the will of the children, the prohibition is practically ignored. In the same way a law exists making infanticide a crime, but as a matter of fact it is never acted upon; and in some parts of the country, more especially in the provinces of Chiang-hsi and Fu-chien, this most unnatural offense prevails among the poorer classes to an alarming extent. Not only do the people acknowledge the existence of the practice, but they even go the length of defending it. It is only however abject poverty which drives parents to this dreadful expedient, and in the more prosperous and wealthy districts the crime is almost unknown. Periodically the mandarins inveigh against the inhumanity of the offense and appeal to the better instincts of the people to put a stop to it; but a stone which stands near a pool outside the city of Foochow bearing the inscription, “Girls may not be drowned here,” testifies with terrible emphasis to the futility of their endeavors.

The large number of cast-a-way bodies of dead infants seen in many parts of China is often regarded, though unjustly, as evidence of the prevalence of this crime. In most instances, however, it really indicates only the denial of burial to infants. This is due, at least in many places, to the following superstition: When they die it is supposed that their bodies have been inhabited by the spirit of a deceased creditor of a previous state of existence. The child during its sickness may be cared for with the greatest tenderness, but if it dies parental love is turned to hate and resentment. It is regarded as an enemy and intruder in the family who has been exacting satisfaction for the old unpaid debt; and having occasioned a great deal of anxiety, trouble, and expense, has left nothing to show for it but disappointment. The uncared for and uncoffined little body is cast away anywhere; and as it is carried out of the door the house is swept, crackers are fired, and gongs beaten to frighten the spirit so that it may never dare enter the house again. Thus do superstitions dry up the fountains of natural affection.

The complete subjection of children to their parents is so firmly imbued in the minds of every Chinese youth, that resistance to the infliction of cruel and even unmerited punishment is seldom if ever offered, and full-grown men submit meekly to be flogged without raising their hands. The law steps in on every occasion in support of parental authority. Filial piety is the leading principle in Chinese ethics.

School life begins at the age of six, and among the wealthier classes great care is shown in the choice of master. The stars having indicated a propitious day for beginning work, the boy presents himself at school, bringing with him two small candles, some sticks of incense, and some paper money, which are burnt at the shrine of Confucius, before which also the little fellow prostrates himself three times. There being no alphabet in Chinese the pupil has to plunge at once into the middle of things and begins by learning to read. Having mastered two elementary books, the next step is to the “Four Books.” Then follow the “Five Classics,” the final desire of Chinese learning. A full comprehension of these Four Books and Five Classics, together with the commentaries upon them, and the power of turning this knowledge to account in the shape of essays and poems, is all that is required at the highest examination in the empire. This course of instruction has been exactly followed out in every school in the empire for many centuries.

The choice of a future calling, which is often so perplexing in our own country, is simplified in China by the fact of there being but two pursuits which a man of respectability and education can follow, namely the mandarinate and trades. The liberal professions as we understand them are unknown in China. The judicial system forbids the existence of the legal profession except in the case of official secretaries attached to the mandarins’ courts; and medicine is represented by charlatans who prey on the follies of their fellowmen and dispense ground tiger’s teeth, snake’s skins, etc., in lieu of drugs. A lad, or his parents for him, has therefore practically to consider whether he should attempt to compete at the general competitive examinations to qualify him for office, or whether he should embark in one of the numerous mercantile concerns which abound among the moneymaking and thrifty Chinese.

The succession of examinations leading up to the various honorary degrees and official positions, are complicated and exacting. The successful candidates have great honor attached to them, and are the prominent and successful people of the empire. These examinations are open to every man in the empire of whatever grade, unless he belong to one of the following four classes, or be the descendant of one such within three generations; actors, prostitutes, jailers, and executioners and servants of mandarins. The theory with regard to these people is that actors and prostitutes being devoid of all shame, and executioners and jailers having become hardened by the cruel nature of their offices, are unfit in their own persons or as represented by their sons to win posts of honor by means of the examinations.

The military examinations are held separately, and though the literary calibre of the candidates is treated much in the same way as at the civil examinations, the same high standard of knowledge is not required; but in addition skill in archery and in the use of warlike weapons is essential. It is illustrative of the backwardness of the Chinese in warlike methods, that though they have been acquainted with the use of gunpowder for some centuries, they revert in the examination of military candidates to the weapons of the ancients, and that while theoretically they are great strategists, strength and skill in the use of these weapons are the only tests required for commissions.

Persons of almost every class and in almost every station of life make an effort to send their boys to school, with the hope that they may distinguish themselves, be advanced to high positions in the state, and reflect honor upon their families. Of those who compete for literary honors a very small proportion are successful in attaining even the first degree, though some strive for it for a lifetime. These unsuccessful candidates and the graduates of the first and second degrees, form the important class of literary men scattered throughout the empire. The large proportion of this class are comparatively poor, and their services may be obtained for a very small remuneration. They are employed to teach the village schools. Rich families in different neighborhoods often assist in keeping up the school for the credit of the village, and opportunities for obtaining an education are thus brought within the reach of all. Graduates of the first and second degrees, generally have the charge of more advanced pupils, and many are engaged as tutors in private families, commanding higher wages. They are also employed as scribes or copyists, and to write letters, family histories, genealogies, etc. In the larger cities schools are established by the government, and in many places free schools are supported by wealthy men, but these institutions do not seem to be popular and are not flourishing.

Though trade practically holds its place as next in estimation to the mandarinate, in theory it should follow both the careers of husbandry and of the mechanical arts. All land is held in free-hold from the government, and principally by clans or families, who pay an annual tax to the crown, amounting to about one-tenth of the produce. As long as this tax is paid regularly the owners are never dispossessed, and properties thus remain in the hands of clans and families for many generations. In order that farming operations shall be properly conducted, there are established in almost every district agricultural boards, consisting of old men learned in husbandry. By these veterans a careful watch is kept over the work done by the neighboring farmers, and in the case of any dereliction of duty or neglect of the prescribed modes of farming, the offender is summoned before the district magistrate, who inflicts the punishment which he considers proportionate to the offense. The appliances of the Chinese for irrigating the fields and winnowing the grain are excellent, but those for getting the largest crops out of the land are of a rude and primitive kind.

Among their artisans the Chinese number carpenters, masons, tailors, shoemakers, workers in iron and brass, and silversmiths and goldsmiths, who can imitate almost any article of foreign manufacture; also workmen in bamboo, carvers, idol makers, needle manufacturers, barbers, hair-dressers, etc. Business men sell almost every kind of goods and commodities wholesale and retail. Large fortunes are amassed very much in the same way and by the same means as are now in our own country. The wealth of the rich is invested in lands or houses, or employed as capital in trade or banking, or is lent out on good security, and often at a high rate of interest.

Traveling in China is slow and leisurely, and the modes of it vary greatly in different parts of the empire. In many of the provinces, especially along the coast and in the south, canals take the place, for the most part, of roads. In the vicinity of Ningpo the country is supplied with a complete network of them, often intersecting each other at distances of one or two miles or less. Farmers frequently have short branch canals running off to their houses, and the farm boat takes the place of the farm wagon. Heavy loaded passage or freight boats ply in every direction. The ordinary charge for passage is less than one-half a cent per mile. The boats are admirably adapted to the people and circumstances, being built for comfort, rather than for speed. These water courses then, with the rivers which are so numerous, furnish the most general way of traveling throughout the empire.

In the north, where the country is level and open, the existence of broad roads enables the people to use rude carts for the conveyance of passengers and freight. Mules are used for riding purposes, and palanquins borne by two horses, or sedan chairs carried by two coolies, are popular ways of traveling. The sea-going junks are very much larger than the river craft, and different in construction. The best ones are divided into water tight compartments and are capable of carrying several thousand tons of cargo. They are generally three-masted and carry huge sails made of matting.

Although the Chinese have the compass, they are without the knowledge necessary for taking nautical observations, so they either hug the land or steer straight by their compasstheir compass until they reach some coast with which they are familiar. In these circumstances it is easy to understand why the loss of junks and lives on the Chinese coast every year is so great. The immense number of people who live in boats on the rivers in southern China, render the terrible typhoons which sweep the sea and land especially destructive. For the most part these boat-people are not of Chinese origin but are remnants of the aborigines of the country. That the race has ever survived is a constant wonder, seeing the hourly and almost momentary danger of drowning in which the children live on board their boats. The only precaution that is ever taken, even in the case of infants, is to tie an empty gourd between their shoulders, so that should they fall into the water they may be kept afloat until help comes. They are born in their boats, they marry in their boats, and die in their boats.

The Chinese calendar and the festivities that accompany different seasons and anniversaries, are peculiarly interesting and different from our own, but space forbids any detailed account of them. The four seasons correspond to ours, and in addition to the four seasons the year is divided into eight parts called “joints,” or divisions, and these are again subdivided into sixteen more called “breaths,” or sources of life. There are forty festivals of China which are celebrated with observances generally throughout the empire and are considered to be important. They do not occur at regular intervals, and there is no periodical day of rest and recreation corresponding at all to our Sunday. The festivities of the new year exceed all others in their prominence and continuance, and in the universality and enthusiasm with which they are observed. “The Feast of Lanterns” and “The Festival of the Tombs” are two of the most interesting of Chinese festivals. The ninth day of the ninth month is a great time for flying kites. On that day thousands of men enjoy the sport and immense kites of all grotesque shapes fill the air. Theaters are very common in China, but the character and associations of the stage are very different from those of western lands and are very much less respected. Actors are regarded as an inferior class. Females do not appear upon the stage, but men act the part of female characters. Gambling is very common in China and is practiced in a variety of ways. Its ill effects are acknowledged, and there are laws prohibiting it, but they are a dead letter. There are many kinds of stringed and reed instruments used by the musicians of China. Bells, also, are very numerous, and excellent sweet toned bells are made. A careful watch is kept over the efforts of composers by the imperial board of music, whose duty it is to keep alive the music of the ancients and to suppress all compositions which are not in harmony with it. It is difficult for western ears to find anything truly beautiful in Chinese music.

The medical art of China is not of a sort to win much admiration from us. The Chinese know nothing of physiology or anatomy. The functions of the heart, lungs, liver, kidneys, and brain are sealed books to them and they recognize no distinction between veins and arteries and between nerves and tendons. Their deeply rooted repugnance to the use of a knife in surgery or to post-mortem examinations prevents the possibility of their acquiring any accurate knowledge of the position of the various organs. They consider that from the heart and pit of the stomach all ideas and delights proceed, and that the gall bladder is the seat of courage. Man’s body is believed to be composed of the five elements, fire, water, metal, wood, earth. The medical profession in China is an open one, for there are no medical colleges and no examination tests to worry the minds of would-be practitioners. Some doctors have prescriptions as valuable and of the same sort as those prepared from herbs and vegetables by many an old woman in our own country settlements. On the other hand, some of the most ridiculous remedies are given, such as tiger’s teeth, gold and silver leaf, and shavings of rhinoceros horns, or ivory. Fortunately for the people inflammatoryinflammatory diseases are almost unknown in China, but small-pox, consumption, and dysentery rage almost unchecked by medical help; skin diseases are very prevalent, and cancer is by no means uncommon. Of late the practice of vaccination has begun to make its way among the people.

There are hosts of superstitions among the Chinese people, and their beliefs regarding spirits and the influence of the dead, of sorcerers, and of devils, are myriad. These superstitions pervade every rank of society, from the highest to the lowest. The general term applied to the whole system of superstition and luck is fung-shwuy, and the practitioners and learned men in this science are called upon to determine what action shall be taken in all sorts of circumstances.

There are benevolent societies in China corresponding in variety and almost in number to those of Christian lands. There are orphan asylums, institutions for the relief of widows, and for the aged and infirm, public hospitals and free schools, together with other kindred institutions more peculiarly Chinese in their character. In some parts of China schools for girls exist, taught by female teachers. In most places, however females are seldom taught letters, and schools for their benefit are not known. Foreigners in establishing them invariably give a small sum of money or some rice for each day’s attendance, and it is thought that these schools could not be kept together in any other way.

The Chinese describe themselves as possessing three religions, or more accurately three sects, namely, Joo keaou, the sect of scholars; Fuh keaou, the sect of Buddha; and Tao keaou, the sect of Tao. Both as regards age and origin, the sect of scholars, or as it is generally called, Confucianism, represents pre-eminently the religion of China. It has its root in the worship of Shang-te, a deity associated with the earliest traditions of the Chinese race. This deity was a personal god, who ruled the affairs of men, rewarding and punishing as appeared just. But during the troublous times which followed the first sovereigns of the Chow dynasty, the belief in a personal deity grew dim, until when Confucius began his career there appeared nothing strange in his atheistic teachings. His concern was with man as a member of society, and the object of his teaching was to lead him into those paths of rectitude which might best contribute to the happiness of the man, and to the well-being of the community of which he formed a part. Man, he held, was born good and was endowed with qualities, which when cultivated and improved by watchfulness and self-restraint, might enable him to acquire godlike wisdom. In the system of Confucius there is no place for a personal god. Man has his destiny in his own hands to make or mar. Neither had Confucius any inducement to offer to encourage men in the practice of virtue, except virtue itself. He was a matter-of-fact, unimaginative man, who was quite content to occupy himself with the study of his fellow men, and was disinclined to grope into the future. Succeeding ages, recognizing the loftiness of his aims, eliminated all that was impracticable and unreal in his system, and held fast to that part of it that was true and good. They clung to the doctrines of filial piety, brotherly love, and virtuous living. It was admiration for the emphasis which he laid on these and other virtues, which has drawn so many millions of men unto him and has adorned every city of the empire with temples built in his honor.

Side by side with the revival of the Joo keaou, under the influence of Confucius, grew up a system of a totally different nature, which when divested of its esoteric doctrines and reduced by the practically minded Chinamen to a code of morals, was destined in future ages to become affiliated with the teachings of the sage. This was Taoism, which was founded by Lao-tzu, who was a contemporary of Confucius. The object of his teaching was to induce men, by the practice of self-abnegation, to reach absorption in something which he called Tao, and which bears a certain resemblance to the Nirvana of the Buddhists. The primary meaning of Tao is “the way,” “the path,” but in Lao-tzu philosophy it was more than the way, it was the way-goer as well. It was an eternal road; along it all beings and things walked; it was everything and nothing, and the cause and effect of all. All things originated from Tao, conformed to Tao, and to Tao at last returned. It was absorption into this “mother of all things” that Lao-tzu aimed at. But these subtilties, to the common people were foolishness, and before long the philosophical doctrine of the identity of existence and non-existence assumed in their eyes a warrant for the old Epicurean motto, “Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.” The pleasures of sense were substituted for the delights of virtue, and to prolong life the votaries began a search for elixirs of immortality, and charms. Taoism quickly degenerated into a system of magic. To-day the monopoly which Taoist priests enjoy as the exponents of the mysteries of nature, inherited from the time when they sought for natural charms, makes them indispensably necessary to all classes, and the most confirmed Confucianist does not hesitate to consult the shaven followers of Lao-tzu on the choice of the site for his house, the position of his family graveyard, or a fortunate day for undertaking an enterprise. Apart from the practice of these magical arts, Taoism has become assimilated with modern Confucianism and is scarcely distinguishable from it.

The teachings of Lao-tzu bore a sufficient resemblance to the musings of Indian sages, that they served to prepare the way for the introduction of Buddhism. A deputation of Buddhists arrived in China in the year 216 B.C., but were harshly treated, and returned to their homes without leaving any impress of their religion. It was not until some sixty years after Christ, in the reign of the Emperor Ming Ti, that Buddhism was actually introduced. One night the emperor dreamed that a monster golden image appeared and said, “Buddha bids you to send to the western countries to search for him and to get books and images.” The emperor obeyed, and sent an embassy to India which returned after an absence of eleven years bringing back images, the sacred writings, and missionaries who could translate these scriptures into Chinese. Thus was introduced into China the knowledge of that system which in purity and loftiness of aim takes its place next to Christianity among the religions of the world. From this time Buddhism grew and prevailed in the land.

The Buddhism of China is not, however, exactly that of India. The Chinese believe in a material paradise, which is obviously inconsistent with the orthodox belief in Nirvana. Like the other faiths of China, orthodox Buddhism could not entirely satisfy the people. Like the Jews of old they were eager after signs, and self interest made their spiritual rulers nothing loth to grant them their desire. From the mountains and monasteries came men who claimed to possess the elixir of immortality, and proclaimed themselves adepts in witchcraft and sorcery. By magic incantations they exorcised evil spirits, and dissipated famine, pestilence, and disease. By the exercise of their supernatural powers they rescued souls from hell, and arrested pain and death. In the services of the church they added ritual to ritual. By such means they won their way among the people, and even sternly orthodox Confucianists make use of their services to chant the liturgies of the dead. But while superstition compels even the wise and the learned to pay homage to this faith, there is scarcely an educated man who would not repudiate a suggestion that he is a follower of Buddha; and though the common people throng the temples to buy charms and consult astrologers, they yet despise both the priests and the religion they profess. But Buddhism has after all been a blessing rather than a curse in China. It has to a certain extent lifted the mind of the people from the too exclusive consideration of mundane affairs, to the contemplation of a future state. It has taught them to value purity of life more highly; to exercise self-constraint and to forget self; and to practise charity towards their neighbors.

It will be seen that no clearly defined line of demarcation separates the three great sects of China. Each in its turn has borrowed from the others, until at the present day it may be doubted whether there are to be found any pure Confucianists, pure Buddhists, or pure Taoists. Confucianism has provided the moral basis on which the national character of the Chinese rests, and Buddhism and Taoism have supplied the supernatural element wanting in that system. Speaking generally then, the religion of China is a medley of the three great sects which are now so closely interlaced that it is impossible either to classify or enumerate the members of each creed. The only other religion of importance in China is Mohammedanism, which is confined to the south-western and north-western provinces of the empire. In this faith also the process of absorption in a national mixture of beliefs is making headway. And since the suppression of the Panthay rebellion in Yun-nan, there has been a gradual decline in the number of the followers of the prophet.

The speech and the written composition of the Chinese differ more than those of any other people. The former addresses itself, like all other languages, to the mind through the ear; the latter speaks to the mind through the eye, not as words but as symbols of ideas. All Chinese literature might be understood and translated though the student of it could not name a single character. The colloquial speech is not difficult of acquisition, but the written composition is slow of learning by foreigners. “Pidgin English” is a mixed Chinese, Portuguese and English language, which is a creation of the necessities of communication between Chinese and foreigners at the open ports, while neither party had the time or means or wish to acquire an accurate knowledge of the language of the other. “Pidgin” is a Chinese attempt to pronounce our word business, and the materials of the lingo are nearly all English words similarly represented or misrepresented. The idiom on the other hand is entirely that of colloquial Chinese. Foreigners master it in a short time so as to carry on long conversations by means of it, and to transact important affairs of business. This jargon is passing away. Chinese who know English and English who know Chinese are increasing in number from year to year.

In the first two chapters, containing a sketch of Chinese history, mention has been made of the greater literary works produced in the early centuries of the empire; and the calamity of the burning of the books has been described. Of the famous classics which are yet cherished we will not speak again here. After the revival of literature, and the encouragement given to it by the successors of the emperor who destroyed the libraries of the empire, the tide has flowed onward in an ever-increasing volume, checked only at times by one of those signal calamities often overtaking the imperial libraries of China. It is noteworthy that however ruthlessly the libraries and intellectual centers have been destroyed, one of the first acts of the successful founders of succeeding dynasties has been to restore them to their former completeness and efficiency.

The Chinese divide their literature into four departments, classical, philosophical, historical and belles lettres. The “nine classics,” of which we have already spoken as being the books studied by every Chinese student, form but the nucleus of the immense mass of literature which has gathered around them. The historical literature of China is the most important branch of the national literature. There are works which record the purely political events of each reign, as well as those on chronology, rites and music, jurisprudence, political economy, state sacrifices, astronomy, geography, and records of the neighboring countries. On drawing, painting, and medicine much has been written. Poems, novels, and romances, dramas, and books written in the colloquialcolloquial style, are frequent in the Chinese literature. There is no more pleasant reading than some of their historical romances, and some of the best novels have been translated into European languages. There is, however, considerable poverty of imagination, little analysis of character, and no interweaving of plot in the fiction.

The glance that we have taken at the habits and customs of life among the Chinese people, shows that while they lack many of the things that we have been taught to believe essential to civilization, they nevertheless are equipped with many good things. They have the same human instincts, and are ready and able to absorb learning with great rapidity, when once they become convinced of the value of it. It is their conservatism and their belief that they are the only truly civilized people in the world, while all others are barbarians, that has made them so slow to adopt any of the better things of western civilization. The war which this work records may prove to be the most effective means that could possibly have been devised to awaken China from the sleep of centuries, and convince her of the value and efficacy of western methods. If this prove true, a description of China written a generation in the future may have to describe the things here related as existing conditions, to be historical facts after twenty years.