The attention which has of late been attracted to the study of European and Asiatic folk-lore happily renders unnecessary any apology for an effort to bring to the knowledge of English readers the vast, and as yet almost unworked, field of which it is the design of these pages to treat. The numerous and in many cases able works recently published have not only placed at the disposal of students a vast mass of facts bearing on the science, but have so fully vindicated its claims to the consideration of the ethnologist and philologist, that any introductory essay in the same direction is unnecessary. The labours of Professor Max Müller, the Brothers Grimm, Baring Gould, Kuhn, Kelly, Thorpe, Dasent, Wilson, Ralston, and Spence Hardy, of Muir, Bleeke, and others, have satisfactorily paved the way for successors in the field. The widespread traditions of the Aryan family, down to the homely superstitions of our own peasantry, the myths of Oceanica and the popular tales of Scandinavia, have alike received illustration, and often erudite comment from capable pens. In endeavouring to do for the folk-lore of China what has been so well done for that of other countries I shall in one respect enjoy an exceptional advantage. No serious attempt has yet been made to prove its kinship with the familiar beliefs of the Aryan races; and the following pages may therefore claim, on the score of novelty alone, an attention which might otherwise be denied them.
That a population so enormous as that which owns the nominal sway of the Dragon Throne—variously estimated at from 250,000,000 to 400,000,000—should present a field of most interesting enquiry, is less strange than that so few enquirers should as yet have essayed to explore it. The extreme difficulties of the language and the fact that few who study it for even conversational purposes do so except for a specific end, and to fulfil some defined duty, have doubtless mainly contributed to this state of affairs. Whatever the cause, however, the fact remains that the folk-lore of the oldest and most populous nation of [2]the globe, rich in the traditions of a period to which modern history is but a thing of yesterday, has been hitherto almost ignored by even the most successful students of Chinese. Those least acquainted with the people and their customs need not be assured that in China, as in most other parts of the world, there are certain subjects regarding which quaint and curious superstitions, beliefs and practices obtain amongst the populace. Unlike the civilized nations of Europe and America, however, China numbers amongst believers in the truth of these superstitions a vast public of some pretensions to education—such as it is—and of social position in the eyes of their countrymen. The doings of every Chinaman, from Emperor to coolie, are affected and guided by astrological portents, divinations, etc., in which even the more highly educated, who affect to despise them, place a practical trust. The half-cynical disbelief of the mandarin and literate, becomes firm conviction in the peasant; and China presents the now-a-days singular spectacle of an entire nation, numbering over three hundred millions of souls, whose everyday life is framed to meet the exigencies of a puerile system of superstition.
It must not, however, be supposed that these superstitious beliefs differ to any material extent from those current amongst humanity elsewhere. The variations will be found to lie rather in detail than in principle; and just as white replaces black for the mourning colour, but leaves untouched the custom of adopting a special costume as a sign of grief, so it will be found that a variation or even apparent contradiction in the beliefs we are about to deal with are in like manner the outcome of motives common to the inhabitants of almost all countries alike. Thus, the Scottish custom of opening the windows of the room in which a person has died, to give the soul free egress, is, in some parts of China, paralleled by the practice of making a hole in the roof. The Lancashire superstition as to the “first foot” on New Year’s Day finds its Chinese counterpart in the dislike expressed to meeting a woman or a Buddhist priest under such conditions. I forbear to here enlarge upon such agreements in superstition, as they will be found treated of at length in the following pages. The one grand distinction between Chinese and European folk-lore lies, as above intimated, in the different powers they exert over the respective communities. In the one case it is either a matter only of amused indifference or of interested research to all but the lowest classes of the population. In the other it represents an all-pervading system of regulations believed in or complied with by high and low alike. We must not, however, forget at how very recent a date we, who now pride ourselves on our civilization and enlightenment, were emancipated from the thraldom of similar and equally oppressive beliefs. To turn for a moment to the page of western history, we find that the belief in omens, divinations, &c., has, ever since the earliest times, influenced communities beside whom we incline, with somewhat undue arrogance, to term the Chinese “barbarous.” St. Chrysostom and many of the early fathers inveighed against popular superstitions in no measured way. In the eighth century we find a Council of Church dignitaries, Pope Gregory III., Charlemagne and his successors, and the abbots and bishops of Scotland and France, vehemently denouncing beliefs similar in all [3]respects to those in vogue in China. The great Martin Luther himself believed in superstitions as gross as any recorded.1 We turn with abhorrence from the story of Matthew Hopkins, the witch-finder, and cannot forget that, almost within the memory of our own great grandfathers, the Puritans of the New World outvied in their superstitious bigotry the worst absurdities recorded in Chinese annals. It is well to recall these matters to mind, because the enlightenment of the present day is apt to sneer too unreservedly at the blind gropings after truth of less favoured races. The popular folk-lore of Norway, Germany and Brittany presents features quite as quaint as those we shall come across in dealing with their Asiatic congeners.
Nor, when we leave the domain of what we may term domestic folk-lore—superstitions as to days and seasons, charms, omens, lucky numbers, &c.,—and ascend to that of myths and legends, is the parallelism between Chinese and Aryan belief less striking and interesting. We miss of course all that can be traced to Christianity; but the powers of nature have appealed as strongly to the wonder and dread of the sons of Han as they did to the races of whom we ourselves are the successors and heirs. “Language,” says a recent writer, “in its immature phases, has created, without any conscious exercise of imagination, most of the old-world, pathetic legends, which, different garbs notwithstanding, meet us like familiar friends in the early records of nations so widely divergent that it would be hard to discover any other trace of kinship.” I will not here pause to ask how fully this applies to Chinese. The myth-making faculty is in any case the common heritage of mankind; and narrow as are the limits within which it has been exercised by the Chinese, and grotesque as are the forms assumed by its productions, they evidence the same yearning to idealise the mysterious powers of the universe, the same poetic faculty, if more rudely expressed, as has characterized mankind since the Chaldean astrologers kept their lonely vigils, and found in the star-studded heavens materials for the mythic beliefs of the long-forgotten past.
In view then of the interesting and almost limitless field of research presented by the superstitious beliefs of nearly a third of the human race, it is, as I have said, more than remarkable that no one has yet essayed the task of compiling some record of their peculiarities. Scattered allusions to them undoubtedly pervade a large number of recent contributions to our better knowledge of China, while certain subjects have been dealt with more at length—in some cases with much ability. Mr. T. Watters has struck a rich vein of curious information in his articles on Chinese notions respecting Pigeons, Doves, and Foxes; while Mr. Stent, in his paper on Chinese Legends, has given some interesting examples of [4]the romances or tales which are current among the Chinese. As Mr. Stent says, almost every place in China has some legend attached to it, the whole constituting a mass of material for collectors of folk-lore, not only interesting from its own quaintness, but useful for comparison with the legends of other nations.2 Mr. Kingsmill’s discussion of the mythical origin of the Chow Dynasty, Dr. Eitel’s account of the curious Buddhist fable which includes the Hwang-ho among the sacred rivers flowing from the Himalayan Lake, and Mr. Mayers’s sketch of the rise and growth of the cult of the god of Literature in China, all contain curious and suggestive matter on this head. They deal however only with portions of the subject.
A writer in the year 1798 remarked that “the study of popular antiquities (of which folk-lore is an important branch) though the materials of it lie so widely diffused, and indeed seem to obtrude themselves upon every one’s attention, does not appear to have engaged so much the notice of enquirers into human life and manners as might have been expected.” But the last seventy years have witnessed an activity in this direction which would allow of the formation of a small library of works dealing only with such matters. It is time that China were added to the list of countries whose folk-lore has been recorded for comparative purposes. And any shortcomings of execution on the part of the present writer will, it is hoped, be condoned on the score of its being the first attempt to deal systematically with the vast array of material at disposal.
Any arrangement of subjects is of course arbitrary; but I shall endeavour to follow what seems to me the most natural order of sequence; and I must here be pardoned for devoting a short space to explaining what I conceive that order to be. The unstudied arrangement of many able works on European folk-lore, although perhaps adding additional charm to their perusal on the part of the general reader, somewhat militates against their use for handy reference by those who care to study them for the sake of comparison. It is therefore much to be desired that some general system could be agreed upon by those who care to make this entertaining subject a matter of serious research. With some diffidence I adopt an arrangement which deals in the first instance with superstitions personal to the individual, such as those relating to birth, marriage and death—superstitions which we find equally disseminated amongst the most degraded and the most civilized peoples of the earth. To these succeed the beliefs accorded to the good or evil luck attaching to days or seasons. Next to them come the credence placed in lucky numbers, portents, auguries and dreams, succeeded by the popular beliefs in charms, spells and divinations. These are followed by accounts of popular superstitions—such as those relating to drowned men, the last piece of edible left upon a plate, the virtues of human blood, &c. Entering the domain of the more technically supernatural, but still dealing with beliefs immediately affecting the happiness or misery of mankind, we come to witchcraft and demonology,—sprites, elves and fairies, such as those who, to quote a native composition, “come in clouds and go in mist;” who make use of “grass that when cut makes horses, or beans that when scattered become fighting men.”3 [5]Ghosts and apparitions are naturally connected with the foregoing. The next section refers to dragons, serpents, fabulous animals, and monsters, which play as important a part in the popular legends of China as in those of Christendom. Long before our patron saint St. George slew the monster so long depicted on the now extinct five-shilling piece, a doughty Chinese champion (a lady, by the way) had performed a similar feat, and had been also embalmed in popular memory; while the snake, regarded with not less awe as an incarnation of the supernatural in China than in Europe, figures conspicuously in her legendary lore. Natural phenomena, such as typhoons, earthquakes, floods, &c., which I next deal with, have naturally, here as elsewhere, been attributed to supernatural influence from time immemorial. Legends form the next division of our subject, commencing with those of locality; for the hills and vales of Cathay have their haunted spots, and its cities too have their haunted houses. Legends of Locality and Household Tales conclude this branch of the subject, a selection of the best known, and those of an essentially popular nature, being alone given. Fables and Proverbial Lore complete the series; but the latter has been too fully dealt with in separate works and essays to render more than passing reference to its characteristics necessary.
Briefly tabulated, then, the Chapters will be arranged in the following order:—
That it is difficult in all cases to draw the precise line in classification, those who have paid any attention to the subject will readily understand; and the most that can be done is to adopt some system which, however faulty, is handy for reference.
The word “Folk-lore” can be applied to many of the domestic traditions of China only as a matter of literary convenience. The word which, according to Mr. Kelly, was invented (or rather first used in its generic sense) by the late [6]editor of Notes and Queries,4 is indeed the only one in the language which satisfactorily expresses the subject of which it treats, and has met with general acceptance. But there is this difference between most of the folk-lore of the Aryan races and that of China. In the former case it chiefly relates to legends and superstitions handed down from generation to generation by word of mouth; in the latter it necessarily includes much that is to be found in print at every native bookstall. Old Moore’s and Zadkiel’s Almanacks represent this sort of literature in England, but do not of course contain a tithe of what is current amongst the people. In China such literature flourishes like a rank weed, to the partial destruction of aught else more useful and ennobling. In addition to these native “authorities,” a vast amount of material relating to the subject is to be found in the columns of the foreign and native newspapers. The aid thus afforded has been fully availed of in the following chapters, though it must not of course be supposed that there does not also exist a large amount of veritable lore, a knowledge of which has been perpetuated in the ordinary conversational way. The cheapness of the press has indeed proved in China a powerful help in preserving much that might otherwise have died out. The precise form of any superstition can therefore be frequently traced, thanks to this conservative element, and differing versions of popular myths are easily referred to their true origins.
It does not appear that the great teachers of China have done much, except in an indirect way, to encourage popular superstitions. But faint references—and those chiefly to ceremonial matters—are to be found in the classics, nor does popular belief credit Confucius, Mencius, Lao-tzü, and others with more than inferential approval of the superstitions current in their own day. The principle of filial reverence for age has probably contributed more than anything else to imbue the minds of the people with a respect for anything, from a porcelain bowl to an aphorism or proverb, which savours of antiquity; and folk-lore shares with ethics the benefits of the national bias. As regards details, the folk-lore of China is much the same as that of Europe, with here and there some unexpected contradictions. Many of these superstitions are, and of course must be, equally childish, whether finding their home in a Cornish hamlet or a Chinese town; but it is none the less interesting to find that they often exist in almost identical shape in places so far asunder. To the mind of the present writer they convey far deeper assurances of a common origin between differing races than the often untrustworthy resemblances of isolated words in their respective tongues.
It will probably be found that the theory which refers the greater portion of the folk-lore of Europe to the Oriental cradle of the Aryan races, from whence it was disseminated by their migrations westward, is equally applicable to the folk-lore of China. The first-named supposition has been ably supported by Kelly and his brother workers, and if, as is believed, equally strong grounds can be shewn for adopting the second, a contribution of some importance to ethnology, [7]and indirectly to philology, will have been made. And it is difficult, when the domestic superstitions of Scotland or the tales of New England witchcraft, the drear legends of Iceland or the myths of Thuringia are found to be almost identical with beliefs in little-known China,—when the almond-eyed mother of Kwangtung is found repeating to her offspring the mystic nonsense uttered by her Hindoo or Turkish sister, as she too, under other skies, listens to the prattle of childish tongues—it is, I say, difficult to deny that a strong case has been made out for a common fount whence the folk-lore of at least two continents has flowed Eastward and Westward in ever-accumulating streams. I need not here refer to such essentially related peoples as the Japanese, Tibetans, Mongolians, &c., whose superstitions are so analogous to those of the Chinese as to be fairly classed under the same head. Such information as has been available respecting them, will be found collated in its proper place.
I have slightly touched in a preceding paragraph upon the unusually widespread belief accorded in China to signs and omens, legends, charms, &c., and a passing remark as to the extent to which this belief obtains may not be out of place. The Court of China, like courts elsewhere, sets the fashion in this as in other matters, and both the marriage of the late Sovereign and the recent accession of the new infant Emperor has afforded an apt illustration of how thoroughly superstition is interwoven with the political system of the country. Thus, at the marriage of Tung-chi with Ah-lu-te, the young lady received amongst the bridal gifts ten pieces of green and white jade called ju-i5—“Heart’s delight.” They were of mystic import, being supposed to possess the power of conferring joy and happiness on their owner.6 The lucky days for the various ceremonies were fixed by the court astrologers, and nothing was done without reference to their predictions. Such phrases as “so and so being a lucky day, His Imperial Majesty will proceed &c.,” are of constant occurrence in the court circulars. But the burdens laid upon the august inhabitants of the “Forbidden City” are but light compared to those borne by the rest of the people. Whether it be to build a house or assume office, to marry a wife or open a school, to set out on a journey or complete a bargain, nothing can be done by any Chinese without reference to Geomancy. Nor are more homely details less under the control of superstitious belief. Every act connected with birth, marriage or death, the bringing up of children and the enterprises of manhood, are alike referred to some detail of this curiously all-pervading system. The superstitions indeed exist amongst ourselves, those really affected by them being only the most ignorant of the population. But in China all are, or assume to be, firm believers in the occult influences of the charm or incantation which custom decrees shall be used. The veriest “Lancashire witch” was no more a slave to her own belief in witchcraft than are average Chinese to their faith in the virtues of divination. Folk-lore therefore assumes in China a place almost unknown to it elsewhere, and no student of the manners and customs of its people can overlook its influence on their every-day life. [8]
1 Luther himself believed in the existence of a stone (the ætita), which superstition gave out was to be found in eagle’s nests, and which possessed the power of detecting thieves! It is not, we imagine, generally known that Luther was grossly superstitious—but he was. It is, we think, in the Colloquia Mensalia, edited by Lauterbach, that Luther is said to have expressed his belief in, among other traditions, the following—that three toads spitted on a stick extracted poison from wounds; that the swan sang sweetly before death; that the electors of Germany could touch for the scrofula, and that the 38th year of man’s life was one of peculiar danger to him.—Englishman. ↑