Among the points relating to the Chinese people which have attracted the attention of students in the history of intellectual development, their long duration and literary institutions have probably taken precedence. To estimate the causes of the first requires much knowledge of the second, and from them one is gradually led onward to an examination of the government, religion, and social life of this people in the succeeding epochs of their existence. The inquiry will reveal much that is instructive, and show us that, if they have not equalled many other nations in the arts and adornments of life, they have attained a high degree of comfort and developed much that is creditable in education, the science of rule, and security of life and property.

Although the powers of mind exhibited by the greatest writers in China are confessedly inferior to those of Greece and Rome for genius and original conceptions, the good influence exerted by them over their countrymen is far greater, even at this day, than was ever obtained by western sages, as Plato, Aristotle, or Seneca. The thoroughness of Chinese education, the purity and effectiveness of the examinations, or the accuracy and excellency of the literature must not be compared with those of modern Christian countries, for there is really no common measure between the two; they must be taken with other parts of Chinese character, and comparisons drawn, if necessary, with nations possessing similar opportunities. The importance of generally instructing the people was acknowledged even before the time of Confucius, and practised to a good degree at an age when other nations in the world had no such system; and although in his day feudal institutions prevailed, and offices and rank were not attainable in the same manner as at present, on the other hand magistrates and noblemen deemed it necessary to be well acquainted with their ancient writings. It is said in the Book of Rites (B.C. 1200), “that for the purposes of education among the ancients, villages had their schools, districts their academies, departments their colleges, and principalities their universities.” This, so far as we know, was altogether superior to what obtained among the Jews, Persians, and Syrians of the same period.

The great stimulus to literary pursuits is the hope thereby of obtaining office and honor, and the only course of education followed is the classical and historical one prescribed by law. Owing to this undue attention to the classics, the minds of the scholars are not symmetrically trained, and they disparage other branches of literature which do not directly advance this great end. Every department of letters, except jurisprudence, history, and official statistics, is disesteemed in comparison; and the literary graduate of fourscore will be found deficient in most branches of general learning, ignorant of hundreds of common things and events in his national history, which the merest schoolboy in the western world would be ashamed not to know in his. This course of instruction does not form well-balanced minds, but it imbues the future rulers of the land with a full understanding of the principles on which they are to govern, and the policy of the supreme power in using those principles to consolidate its own authority.

Centralization and conservatism were the leading features of the teachings of Confucius which first recommended them to the rulers, and have decided the course of public examinations in selecting officers who would readily uphold these principles. The effect has been that the literary class in China holds the functions of both nobles and priests, a perpetual association, gens æterna in qua memo nascitur, holding in its hands public opinion and legal power to maintain it. The geographical isolation of the people, the nature of the language, and the absence of a landed aristocracy, combine to add efficiency to this system; and when the peculiarities of Chinese character, and the nature of the class-books which do so much to mould that character, are considered, it is impossible to devise a better plan for insuring the perpetuity of the government, or the contentment of the people under that government.

It was about A.D. 600, that Taitsung, of the Tang dynasty, instituted the present plan of preparing and selecting civilians by means of study and degrees, founding his system on the facts that education had always been esteemed, and that the ancient writings were accepted by all as the best instructors of the manners and tastes of the people. According to native historians, the rulers of ancient times made ample provision for the cultivation of literature and promotion of education in all its branches. They supply some details to enable us to understand the mode and the materials of this instruction, and glorify it as they do everything ancient, but probably from the want of authentic accounts in their own hands, they do not clearly describe it. The essays of M. Édouard Biot on the History of Public Instruction in China, contains well-nigh all the information extant on this interesting subject, digested in a very lucid manner. Education is probably as good now as it ever was, and its ability to maintain and develop the character of the people as great as at any time; it is remarkable how much it really has done to form, elevate, and consolidate their national institutions. The Manchu monarchs were not at first favorably disposed to the system of examinations, and frowned upon the literary hierarchy who claimed all honors as their right; but the next generation saw the advantages and necessity of the concours, in preserving its own power.

Boys commence their studies at the age of seven with a teacher; for, even if the father be a literary man he seldom instructs his sons, and very few mothers are able to teach their offspring to read. Maternal training is supposed to consist in giving a right direction to the morals, and enforcing the obedience of the child; but as there are few mothers who do more than compel obedience by commands, or by the rod, so there are none who can teach the infantile mind to look up to its God in prayer and praise.

Among the many treatises for the guidance of teachers, the Siao Hioh, or ‘Juvenile Instructor,’ is regarded as most authoritative. When establishing the elements of education, this book advises fathers to “choose from among their concubines those who are fit for nurses, seeking such as are mild, indulgent, affectionate, benevolent, cheerful, kind, dignified, respectful, and reserved and careful in their conversation, whom they will make governesses over their children. When able to talk, lads must be instructed to answer in a quick, bold tone, and girls in a slow and gentle one. At the age of seven, they should be taught to count and name the cardinal points; but at this age the sexes should not be allowed to sit on the same mat nor eat from the same table. At eight, they must be taught to wait for their superiors, and prefer others to themselves. At ten, the boys must be sent abroad to private tutors, and there remain day and night, studying writing and arithmetic, wearing plain apparel, learning to demean themselves in a manner becoming their age, and acting with sincerity of purpose. At thirteen, they must attend to music and poetry; at fifteen, they must practise archery and charioteering. At the age of twenty, they are in due form to be admitted to the rank of manhood, and learn additional rules of propriety, be faithful in the performance of filial and fraternal duties, and though they possess extensive knowledge, must not affect to teach others. At thirty, they may marry and commence the management of business. At forty, they may enter the service of the state; and if their prince maintains the reign of reason, they must serve him, but otherwise not. At fifty, they may be promoted to the rank of ministers; and at seventy, they must retire from public life.”

Another injunction is, “Let children always be taught to speak the simple truth; to stand erect and in their proper places, and listen with respectful attention.” The way to become a student, “is, with gentleness and self-abasement, to receive implicitly every word the master utters. The pupil, when he sees virtuous people, must follow them, when he hears good maxims, conform to them. He must cherish no wicked designs, but always act uprightly; whether at home or abroad, he must have a fixed residence, and associate with the benevolent, carefully regulating his personal deportment, and controlling the feelings of his heart. He must keep his clothes in order. Every morning he must learn something new, and rehearse the same every evening.” The great end of education, therefore, among the ancient Chinese, was not so much to fill the head with knowledge, as to discipline the heart and purify the affections. One of their writers says, “Those who respect the virtuous and put away unlawful pleasures, serve their parents and prince to the utmost of their ability, and are faithful to their word; these, though they should be considered unlearned, we must pronounce to be educated men.” Although such terms as purity, filial affection, learning, and truth, have higher meanings in a Christian education than are given them by Chinese masters, the inculcation of them in any degree and so decided a manner does great credit to the people, and will never need to be superseded—only raised to a higher grade.[269]

In intercourse with their relatives, children are taught to attend to the minutest points of good breeding; and are instructed in everything relating to their personal appearance, making their toilet, saluting their parents, eating, visiting, and other acts of life. Many of these directions are trivial even to puerility, but they are none too minute in the ideas of the Chinese, and still form the basis of good manners, as much as they did a score of centuries ago; and it can hardly be supposed that Confucius would have risked his influence upon the grave publication of trifles, if he had not been well acquainted with the character of his countrymen. Yet nothing is trifling which conduces to the growth of good manners among a people, though it may not have done all that was wished.[270]

Rules are laid down for students to observe in the prosecution of their studies, which reflect credit on those who set so high a standard for themselves. Dr. Morrison has given a synopsis of a treatise of this sort, called the ‘Complete Collection of Family Jewels,’ and containing a minute specification of duties to be performed by all who would be thorough students. The author directs the tyro to form a fixed resolution to press forward in his studies, setting his mark as high as possible, and thoroughly understanding everything as he goes along. “I have always seen that a man who covets much and devotes himself to universal knowledge, when he reads he presumes on the quickness and celerity of his genius and perceptions, and chapters and volumes pass before his eyes, and issue from his mouth as fluently as water rolls away; but when does he ever apply his mind to rub and educe the essence of a subject? In this manner, although much be read, what is the use of it? Better little and fine, than much and coarse.” He also advises persons to have two or three good volumes lying on their tables, which they can take up at odd moments, and to keep commonplace books in which they can jot down such things as occur to them. They should get rid of distracting thoughts if they wish to advance in their studies; as “if a man’s stomach has been filled by eating greens and other vegetables, although the most precious dainties with exquisite tastes should be given him, he cannot swallow them, he must first get rid of a few portions of the greens; so in reading, the same is true of the mixed thoughts which distract the mind, which are about the dusty affairs of a vulgar world.” The rules given by these writers correspond to those laid down among ourselves, in such books as Todd’s Manual for Students, and reveal the steps which have given the Chinese their intellectual position.[271]

For all grades of scholars, there is but one mode of study; the imitative nature of the Chinese mind is strikingly exhibited in the few attempts on the part of teachers to improve upon the stereotyped practice of their predecessors, although persons of as original minds as the country affords are constantly engaged in education. When the lad commences his studies, an impressive ceremony takes place—or did formerly, for it seems to have fallen into desuetude: the father leads his son to the teacher, who kneels down before the name of some one or other of the ancient sages, and supplicates their blessing upon his pupil; after which, seating himself, he receives the homage and petition of the lad to guide him in his lessons.[272] As is the case in Moslem countries, a present is expected to accompany this initiation into literary pursuits. In all cases this event is further marked by giving the lad his shu ming or ‘book name,’ by which he is called during his future life. The furniture of the school merely consists of a desk and a stool for each pupil, and an elevated seat for the master, for maps, globes, black-boards, diagrams, etc., are yet to come in among its articles of furniture. In one corner is placed a tablet or an inscription on the wall, dedicated to Confucius and the god of Letters; the sage is styled the ‘Teacher and Pattern for All Ages,’ and incense is constantly burned in honor of them both.

The location of school-rooms is usually such as would be considered bad elsewhere, but by comparison with other things in China, is not so. A mat shed which barely protects from the weather, a low, hot upper attic of a shop, a back room in a temple, or rarely a house specially built for the purpose, such are the school-houses in China. The chamber is hired by the master, who regulates his expenses and furnishes his apartment according to the number and condition of his pupils; their average number is about twenty, ranging between ten and forty in day schools, and in private schools seldom exceeding ten. The most thorough course of education is probably pursued in the latter, where a well-qualified teacher is hired by four or five persons living in the same street, or mutually related by birth or marriage, to teach their children at a stipulated salary. In such cases the lads are placed in bright, well-aired apartments, superior to the common school-room. The majority of teachers have been unsuccessful candidates for literary degrees, who having spent the prime of their days in fruitless attempts to attain office, are unfit for manual labor, and unable to enter on mercantile life. In Canton, a teacher of twenty boys receives from half a dollar to a dollar per month from each pupil; in country villages, three, four or five dollars a year are given, with the addition, in most cases, of a small present of eatables from each scholar three or four times a year. Private tutors receive from $150 to $350 or more per annum, according to particular engagement. There are no boarding-schools, nor anything answering to infant schools; nor are public or charity schools established by government, or by private benevolence for the education of the poor.

The first hours of study are from sunrise till ten A.M., when the boys go to breakfast; they reassemble in an hour or more, and continue at their books till about five P.M., when they disperse for the day. In summer, they have no lessons after dinner, but an evening session is often held in the winter, and evening schools are occasionally opened for mechanics and others who are occupied during the day. When a boy comes into school in the morning, he bows reverentially before the tablet of Confucius, salutes his teacher, and then takes his seat. The vacations during the year are few; the longest is before new year, at which time the engagement is completed, and the school closes, to be reöpened after the teacher and parents have made a new arrangement. The common festivals, of which there are a dozen or more, are regarded as holydays, and form very necessary relaxations in a country destitute of the rest of the Sabbath. The requisite qualifications of a teacher are gravity, severity, and patience, and acquaintance with the classics; he has only to teach the same series of books in the same fashion in which he learned them himself and keep a good watch over his charge.

When the lads come together at the opening of the school, their attainments are ascertained; the teacher endeavors to have his pupils nearly equal in this respect, but inasmuch as they are all put to precisely the same tasks, a difference is not material. If the boys are beginners, they are brought up in a line before the desk, holding the San-tsz’ King, or ‘Trimetrical Classic,’ in their hands, and taught to read off the first lines after the teacher until they can repeat them without help. He calls off the first four lines as follows:

when his pupils simultaneously cry out:

Mispronunciations are corrected until each can read the lesson accurately; they are then sent to their seats to commit the sounds to memory. As the sounds are all entire words (not letters, nor syllables, of which they have no idea), the boys are not perplexed, as ours are, with symbols which have no meaning. All the children study aloud, and when one is able to recite the task, he is required to back it—come up to the master’s desk, and stand with his back toward him while rehearsing it.

The San-tsz’ King was compiled by Wang Pih-hao of the Sung dynasty (A.D. 1050) for his private school. It contains ten hundred and sixty-eight words, and half that number of different characters, arranged in one hundred and seventy-eight double lines. It has been commented upon by several persons, one of whom calls it “a ford which the youthful inquirer may readily pass, and thereby reach the fountain-head of the higher courses of learning, or a passport into the regions of classical and historical literature.” This hornbook begins with the nature of man, and the necessity and modes of education, and it is noticeable that the first sentence, the one quoted above, which a Chinese learns at school, contains one of the most disputed doctrines in the ancient heathen world:

The importance of filial and fraternal duties are then inculcated by precept and example, to which succeeds a synopsis of the various branches of learning in an ascending series, under several heads of numbers; the three great powers, the four seasons and four cardinal points, the five elements and five constant virtues, the six kinds of grain and six domestic animals, the seven passions, the eight materials for music, nine degrees of kindred, and ten social duties. A few extracts will exhibit the mode in which these subjects are treated.

To this technical summary succeed rules for a course of academical studies, with a list of the books to be learned, and the order of their use, followed by a synopsis of the general history of China, in an enumeration of the successive dynasties. The work concludes with incidents and motives to learning drawn from the conduct of ancient sages and statesmen, and from considerations of interest and glory. The examples cited are curious instances of pursuit of knowledge under difficulties, and form an inviting part of the treatise.

These quotations illustrate the character of the Trimetrical Classic, and show its imperfections as a book for young minds. It is a syllabus of studies rather than a book to be learned, and ill suited to entice the boy on in his tasks by giving him mental food in an attractive form. Yet its influence has been perhaps as great as the classics during the last four dynasties, from its general use in primary schools, where myriads of lads have “backed” it who have had no leisure to study much more, and when they had crossed this ford could travel no farther. The boy commences his education by learning these maxims; and by the time he has got his degree—and long before, too—the highest truths and examples known in the land are more deeply impressed on his mind than are ever Biblical truths and examples on graduates of Yale, Oxford, Heidelberg or the Sorbonne. Well was it for them that they had learned nothing in it which they had better forget, for its deficiencies, pointed out by Bridgman in his translation, should not lead us to overlook its suggestive synopsis of principles and examples. The commentary explains them very fully, and it is often learned as thoroughly as the text. Many thousands of tracts containing Christian truths written in the same style and with the same title, have been taught with good effect in the mission schools in China.[273]

The next hornbook put into the boy’s hands is the Pih Kia Sing, or ‘Century of Surnames.’ It is a list of the family or clan names commonly in use. Its acquisition also gives him familiarity with four hundred and fifty-four common words employed as names, a knowledge, too, of great importance lest mistakes be made in choosing a wrong character among the scores of homophonous characters in the language. For instance, out of eighty-three common words pronounced kí, six only are clan names, and it is necessary to have these very familiar in the daily intercourse of life. The nature of the work forbids its being studied, but the usefulness of its contents probably explains its position in this series.[274]

The third in the list is the Tsien Tsz’ Wăn, or ‘Millenary Classic,’ unique among all books in the Chinese language, and whose like could not be produced in any other, in that it consists of just a thousand characters, no two of which are alike in form or meaning. The author, Chau Hing-tsz’, flourished about A.D. 550, and according to an account given in the history of the Liang dynasty, wrote it at the Emperor’s request, who had ordered his minister Wang Hí-chí to write out a thousand characters, and give them to him, to see if he could make a connected ode with them. This he did, and presented his performance to his majesty, who rewarded him with rich presents in token of his approval. Some accounts (in order that so singular a work might not want for corresponding wonders) add that he did the task in a single night, under the fear of condign punishment if he failed, and the mental exertion was so great as to turn his hair white. It consists of two hundred and fifty lines, in which rhyme and rhythm are both carefully observed, though there is no more poetry in it than in a multiplication table. The contents of the book are similar but more discursive than those of the Trimetrical Classic. Up to the one hundred and second line, the productions of nature and virtues of the early monarchs, the power and capacities of man, his social duties and mode of conduct, with instructions as to the manner of living, are summarily treated. Thence to the one hundred and sixty-second line, the splendor of the palace, and its high dignitaries, with other illustrious persons and places, are referred to. The last part of the work treats of private and literary life, the pursuits of agriculture, household government, and education, interspersed with some exhortations, and a few illustrations. A few disconnected extracts from Dr. Bridgman’s translation[275] will show the mode in which these subjects are handled. The opening lines are,

after which it takes a survey of the world and its products, and Chinese history, in a very sententious manner, down to the thirty-seventh line, which opens a new subject.

The commentary on the Thousand Character Classic contains many just observations and curious anecdotes to explain this book, whose text is so familiar to the people at large that its lines or characters are used as labels instead of figures, as they take up less room. If Western scholars were as familiar with the acts and sayings of King Wăn, of Su Tsin, or of Kwan Chung, as they are with those of Sesostris, Pericles, or Horace, these incidents and places would naturally enough be deemed more interesting than they now are. But where the power of genius, or the vivid pictures of a brilliant imagination, are wanting to illustrate or beautify a subject, there is comparatively little to interest Europeans in the authors and statesmen of such a distant country and remote period.[276]

The fourth in this series, called Yin Hioh Shí-tieh, or ‘Odes for Children,’ is written in rhymed pentameters, and contains only thirty-four stanzas of four lines. A single extract will show its character, which is, in general, a brief description and praise of literary life, and allusion to the changes of the season, and the beauties of nature.

The examples of intelligent youth rising to the highest offices of state are numerous in all the works designed for beginners, and stories illustrative of their precocity are sometimes given in toy-books and novels. One of the most common instances is here quoted, that of Confucius and Hiang Toh, which is as well known to every Chinese as is the story of George Washington barking the cherry-tree with his hatchet to American youth.