to ensure my arriving in Peking before the examination ordered by the Emperor, what leisure then could I have had for taking pleasure and loitering about, but if you will not believe my declaration, you have only to enquire of the old man who accompanied me and he will tell you the same thing." "He," answered Shoo-chêng, "is of course in a league with you, and I might ask him a long time before I could get anything like the truth out of him, but you need not flatter yourself you are going to deceive me, for sooner or later I shall find out all about it. But on the first day of my arrival I do not wish to quarrel with you so we will drop the subject, only there is that bird carved in stone that I gave you as a keepsake when you left, and which you promised to look at continually in order to keep me always in your thoughts, and to return to me should we ever be so fortunate as to meet again. said, if you remember, that it was one of a pair, which pair was an emblem of husband and wife, when we were parted they were divided, and now that we are by the blessing of heaven once more restored to each others arms, let the Yuen and the Yang also be re-united." On hearing these words Choo-lun turned pale, and, breaking out into a cold perspiration, began trembling from head to foot, and answered with a stammer, "Th-th-the Yu-yuen and the Ya-ya-yang! Oh yes, I-I-I've ta-ta-taken great ca-ca-care of it, I-I-I'll gi-gi-give it t-t-to you to-toto-morrow." 66 But," answered his wife, "you promised to carry it about on your person as a souvenir of me, that on looking at it you might think of me why then have you not got it with you now? it's very evident that the moment you left the house you threw all thoughts of your wife behind your back." "How da-da-dare I," replied Choo-lun, "d-d-do such a th-th-thing as th-th-that, I c-c-can as-s-s-sure you that I have it qu-qu-quite safe." "If you have it quite safe," answered Shoo-cheng, "I suppose it is in this house, and the best thing you can do will be to go and bring it here; if you stand there trembling in that way you will only confirm my suspicions, that you have given it to some one whom you love better than me, and the only way to convince me to the contrary will be to show me that it is still in your possession." Choo-lun finding that he would not be able to deceive his wife in this matter, replied, "How dare I to have given away to another person the charm which my wife gave me as a souvenir of herself; but I will tell you the truth, we were attacked by robbers in Shantung, and while I was flying from them to save my life I think it must have fallen to the ground, and in my hurry did not notice the loss until it was too late. The reason that I trembled was partly the remembrance of that day's dangers and partly my dislike to tell you that I had lost your present." "Whom," replied his wife, "do you expect to cheat with this story, it will not succeed with me I can assure you, but since you fell among robbers, and yet you appear to be without hurt, you must have been rescued by somebody, are you sure that you did not take the bird and present it to them in return for their kindness." Now it's evident from this speech that she wanted her husband to speak the truth out, and then it would have been easy to

have explained matters thoroughly and to have sent and brought Keaou-choo up to the house, but Choolun fancying that his wife was just on the point of breaking out in a rage, was more than ever frightened and less inclined to declare the real state of the case, he therefore again stoutly declared that he had lost it and that he thought it must have fallen from his person as he was riding away from the robbers at full speed to save his life from their clutches. Shoo-chêng seeing that he was determined not to acknowledge in the slightest anything of his relationship with Keaou-choo and her family, put her hand into her sleeve and drawing forth one of the two birds, said, "You say you lost my present to you in Shantung, look at this and tell me what it is." Choo-lun looked at the bird for a moment and saw that it was not the one his wife had given him when he left home, he therefore replied, "This is the one which you kept, and not that which I lost in Shantung, what a pity that the pair is now divided and that each one must remain solitary, deprived of its mate. But I will take it to a famous jeweller here in the capital and order him to make one to match this, and so replace the one which has been so unfortunately lost." "Have I not already told you,” replied Shoo-cheng, "that this jewel was brought from a distant country, and that in the length and breadth of the Chinese empire it cannot be matched, how then can the jeweller make one like it? if you can find the one which is lost, then it will be well, but otherwise it must remain imperfect for all the jewellers in Peking." "The original is already lost," said her husband, " of what use then to talk about that." To this Shoo-chêng made no reply, but again looking in her sleeve she drew forth the other bird and exclaimed, "If you still persist in declaring that it is lost, what, may I ask, is this?" Choo-lun took the jewel and looked at it for a minute with earnestness, truly there could be no doubt that this was the very bird he had given to Keaou-choo, and the sight of it filled him with a hundred doubts and fears. However, he felt that he must force himself to make some answer, so he said, "All I can imagine is that this is a fairy gem, and must of necessity be united the one part to the other; so that when I lost the part which I had with me in Shantung, it possessed the power of flying back to Shaouhing, where you had the other half, and joining itself to its mate." On hearing this, Shoo-chêng put on an appearance of anger and answered, "Fine nonsense, fine nonsense indeed, this you are talking, the jewel is not alive, how then could it possess the power of flying into my hand, cease this childishness and say at once to whom it was that you gave it, if you say it of your own accord I will forgive you all the more easily." But Choo-lun could not be persuaded to confess, but adhered firmly to his old story, saying, "That which my wife presented to me as a keepsake how dare I give away to anyone else? really I am not attempting to impose upon you, I tell you the truth when I say that I lost it on the road." "You still say," replied his wife, "that you are not trying to impose upon me, why it is as easy as possible to see that your words are all pretence and nonsense, perhaps you think that because you are a Chwang yuen and

have received a good appointment that I am afraid of you, and will not dare to annoy you, but if you go on in this way I can promise you that you will soon find out your mistake, and that it will not be long before I reckon up accounts with you and punish you as you deserve." So saying, and accompanying her threat with every appearance of anger and vexation, she seized hold of the hand of the girl she had brought with her and dragged her into the house, leaving Choo-lun in a state of anxiety and trepidation, wondering how the bird, which was evidently that which he had given to Keaou-choo, had come into the possession of his wife. But although he was longing and burning with desire to know all about it, yet he had not the courage to go to his wife and put the question to her, but having seen his old servant's wife go into the house with her mistress and then come out again and pass over to that part of the building where her husband was living, he determined to follow her and endeavour to learn the particulars from her.

If you would wish to know what the old servant said you must take the trouble to turn to the next chapter, and you will find out.

(To be continued.)

EXPLANATORY NOTE TO “A CURE FOR JEALOUSY." By CHARLES CARROLL, Esq.

18. HAN-SIN.-Han-sin was a General of the lan dynasty (which lasted from B.C. 234 to A.D. 15), being once defeated he was obliged to fly for his life disguised as a common soldier. During his flight he came upon an old woman washing clothes by a river side, and on a bench near her he observed a basin of rice; being ready to die with hunger, he begged to be allowed to take a few mouthfuls of her simple meal, and at once received permission, The old woman observing the avidity with which he swallowed it, said, "It is evident that you are in greater need of sustenance than I am, you had better finish the basin." He gladly availed himself of this offer, and went on his way refreshed and strengthened. The General not long after was again in power, and did not forget to reward the old woman, without whose kindness he would probably have never been able to escape his enemies.

ON THE LITERATI OF CHINA.
(From the Chinese Recorder.)

For my present purpose the gentry may be considered as included in the literati, as China can scarcely be said to possess any class of men corresponding to the class known by that name among us, and the Chinese themselves would not, I think, recognize the distinction. Now in the first place I must divide the body of men known as the Literati into two classes-the literati proper and the socalled literati.

The former are at present a comparatively small number of individuals and seem to be decreasing from year to year. They may be known on the streets by characteristics very like those which mark their brother sages in the west. They have generally an antique appearance, wear the skull-cap irregularly on the head, look through a pair of large

spectacles, and carry under their arm an umbrella of Mrs. Gampish dimensions. They generally shuffle along the streets at an uneasy pace, and they are usually found to disappear with a jerk into a second-hand book shop or some other congenial

retreat.

If you enter into any conversation with one of these men you are astonished at the amount of learning, bearing on his own country chiefly, which he has accumulated. The classics of course he can repeat, but he also knows intimately the voluminous annotations to these. The histories of the various dynasties, the great men they produced, and the lives and works of the latter are all known to him. Not unfrequently too these learned men show an acquaintance not only with all that is orthodox but also with a large amount of heterodoxy. Thus they are often well informel in the history and literature of Buddhism. Nor do they leave unread the works of the Tauists, and Chwang-tsz, Lau-tsz, and Han-fei-tsz are better known to them than such men as Scotus Frigena and Roger Bacon are to their brethren in the West.

Now these, who are genuine literati, seldom or never take part in local broils and disturbances. They rarely raise an outcry against foreignerseither against their religion or against their mere existence among the natives. Though strictly orthodox and privately quite opposed to the introduction of anything barbarian, they like to lead a quiet philosopher's life, believing that the world can never become so good that there will not be some in it bad enough to leave Confucianism for even Christianity.

But I come now to the second division-the socalled Literati, and it is to these that I wish more particularly to refer. They are of tolerably easy recognition in any Chinese city. They are generally young looking and rather flashy, but those who are somewhat advanced in years generally wear a grave and haughty look. The cap is either adjusted perfectly straight on the head so that the ornament for the front is in a line with the nose, or else it is raked a little to the side. The long dress is as if fresh out of the folds-the shoes plain but neat, and everything about them argues punctiliousness and a wish to appear well before the world. In one hand is usually a fan inscribed with a few verses, the work of a friend or companion. They are the very essence of politeness and there is an air of classic decorum about all their movements. These men, however, have very often only the name and external semblance of literati and are quite ignorant of their own history and literature. If you try to open a conversation with them about the sacred books, they generally tell you that they studied those books when young but now they have forgotten them.

When the would-be-literary family is rich, a tutor is engaged to prepare the hope of the house for his "degree." A weary time this wretch has trying to impart to his pupil not only information but also the capacity of acquiring information. After several 66 years grinding," the promising youth goes up to the examination and comes back duly "plucked." This, of course, is ill-luck, but

B

another trial is equally unsuccessful, and finally a literary title is obtained by purchase.

It is indeed, a subject of much sorrow to the genuine literati in China that literary titles should be soll and so cheaply as they are now. 30 or 40 dollars will in some places obtain the right to be regarded as a man of letters, and who would not purchase so enviable a distinction at that slight cost! If the rich youth, however, ultimately succeed in obtaining his Siutsai* by examination, he from that moment struts with peacock magnificence among the ignoble fowl which surround him; his claim to a literary character is beyond dispute; and he sheds a glory over the unlettered family to which he belongs.

These examinations do not by any means form a test of a man's general attainments. For many years the element of most importance in the first of these at least has been fine writing. Hence those who seek for degrees pay more attention to style than the acquisition of knowledge, and the books most studied are the collections of literary essays. On several occasions attempts have been made to introduce reforms but without any permanent success, and the mode in which the thought is expressed may now count for more than the thought itself. Thus many of those who have actually obtained literary honours in the proper way are yet without scholarly learning, and many know only the letter of the classics without being able to appreciate the inner spirit.

Suppose a foreigner is looking out for a teacher and he invites one of these so-called literati to introduce one to him. He is sure to be told of one whom the man knows, a person of vast erudition, deeply versed in the literature as well of modern as of ancient times, with an intellect clear as the sun, and who is at present out of official employment by some unfortunate accident. This prodigy of intelligence comes on the appointed day with his friend, and the two are very careful in going through the proper bows and other forms of politeness to be observed on a ceremonial visit. "Well Sir," says the foreigner, "Your friend has told me that you are a very learned man, and as I want to know as much as I can about your country I hope you will become my teacher. Have you read any Buddhist works?" "Oh," says the prodigy with a Pecksniflian smile, "we of the learned body do not read heretical writings." "Oh, no, of course, I ought to have known that. Well I want to study the P'un ts'ao and some other works on animals and vegetables." "Oh, I never read any of those they are only for doctors and druggists." Well, there were I believe some celebrated authors under the Sung dynasty and I want to read some of their works-say those of Chow Leen-hi." "Ah yes," replies the prodigy, "there were several illustrious scholars at that period but I am not acquainted with their works." "Good! Oh, I was forgetting. Will you kindly tell me what you have read ?" "I have read the Four Books and the Five King.† We of the learned denomination regard these as the most important of all books, and if one knows them he has enough *B. A. degree + Confucian Literature

66

for this life." Just imagine a German youth coming to England to study English life and literature with a teacher, and the man who offers himself for that post stating as his qualifications that he had learned his Catechism, Creed, How doth the Little Busy Bee, and Persuasives to Early Piety. But suppose the foreigner engages the prodigy of learning and proceeds to read the Four Books with him, he soon finds that neither to these does his knowledge extend. He can read the text and give the explanations which accompany it, but beyond these he is absolutely ignorant. Not only is he utterly unable to offer any original solution for a difficulty but he is also ignorant of all the parallel passages which would throw light on the obscurity. Wherever Chu-hit fails him, he is utterly helpless.

If again we turn to affairs external to their country, we find these so-called literati still more lamentably ignorant. Thus, for instance, with the foreign countries with which China is now on terms of friendship they have little or no acquaintance. Of England if they know anything they know little more than that it is a Jesus-worshipping, opium-selling country, perched on the northwest corner of the world and abutting on chaos. France is to them a country of similar barbarians worshipping the Lord of Heaven and a cross, sometimes at peace and sometimes at war with England. America consists of a number of escaped Englishmen who some time ago successfully rebelled against England and who are so hopelessly barbarous that they have never yet been able to establish an Imperial form of Government. Nor is it to be wondered at that these so-called literati are thus devoid of knowledge, in as much as they seldom read a good book, and possess scarcely any. Of some I have been assured that they have not a single literary work in their houses. Others have a few, such as classics, a book of quotations, two or three collections of essays, and a historical romance. These form the library, and whether read or not make their owner a literary man. This is as if one were to acquire at home a learned repute by having a library composed of the Bible, Macaulay's Essays, the Book of Quotations, and Gulliver's Travels.

Being thus grossly ignorant with reference as well to their own country as to foreign lands they resort to various devices in order to keep up their literary reputation. One of the commonest of these is abuse of heterodoxy, a practice in which they are often very inconsistent. Thus one of these individuals will ridicule and revile the worshipping of the popular deities, and will condemn in round terms the whole system of Buddhism or Tauism as vile and pernicious. Yet this man's wife, with his knowledge and consent, will frequent temples, burn incense, make vows, pray for the recovery of any sick men ber of the family, and consult the gods respecting the future. Speak to the husband on the subject and he will probably answer with a smile of conscious superiority:-"Oh, old women are fond of the clergy!" Nay more, these very men will themselves pray to the Queen of Heaven, or the goddess of Eyes and Ears, or any other deity,

The Celebrated Commentator on the Classics.

will learn Buddhist prayers, and consult Tauist fortune-tellers.

Another device is the maintenance of a literary man in the family. Sometimes for a ridiculously small annual stipend a poor but accomplished scholar is retained in the household to serve the double purpose of educating the family and adding a literary savour to the house. Just as in England a man whose readings in literature consist of perusals of the Field and Farmers' Magazine, educates his family, and acquires for his house a pious and literary repute by giving board-wages to a meek but seedy curate. These would-be literati are also among themselves a sort of Mutual-admiration Society, and by praising and admiring each other, they seek to be regarded as genuine sages. They make little Confuciuses and Menciuses of each other, and talk of doing in their "shoddy" establishments, what Cheu-kung and Wen-wang did ages ago in the State. Does a guest come late to dinner, the host compliments him on his resemblance to Confucius in being one who in his love of learning forgets the requirements of his body. Does the dolt sit silent during the meal, he is like the "Master" who neither talked while eating nor spoke while sleeping. Does he keep his women kind in order, he is like one of those ancient worthies who first reduced their household to peace and then applied themselves to rectify the empire. So these moderns believe for themselves and each other that there is only wanting the appearance of a Phoenix or a Unicorn, and then they will rise to power and recall the holy days of antiquity.

Now it is these so-called literati who are generally the promoters of the disturbances raised against foreigners. The poor peasants when left to themselves seldom object to our visits or residence, and in many places it is notorious that they rather like us. But they are very much under the power of a few rich or ambitious families who are jealous of any encroachment on their power and prerogatives. Hence to Christianity and Western ideas in general as their latest opponents these "brummagem" literati, whether in private or official life, show a very bitter hatred and determined hostility. They leave no underhand expedient untried-they resort to all sneaking and crafty devices, revive against Christians the scandals which had been originally invented against others and which had lain dead for a long period. Such are many of the vile calumnies set forth in the pamphlet which came lately into the hands of the missionaries at Tungchow. Now if those who are genuine Confucianists, who believe in and love their venerable books and hoary doctrines, were strenuously to oppose all innovations coming from foreign sources we should be bound to respect the feelings which prompt the antagonism. Nor less should we respect the simple unreasoning faith in their many deities which the people have, if this faith should lead them to withstand Christianity. But I do not think we can respect those who are, (to borrow a metaphor applied to them by a zealous Confucianist,) merely frames on which the externals of a Confucianist are hung, and who have no internal merit or excellence whatOUTIS.

⚫ver.

BUDDHIST PHILOSOPHY. Continued from page 221 of Vol. I.

If, as Rémusat and Upham* appear to insist is the case, every monastic follower of Buddha be a priest, then Bandya or Bonzet must be rendered into English by the word clergyman.' But there will still remain as much difference between Bandya and Sangha as, in Christian estimation, between an ordinary parson of the present day, and one of the inspired primitive professors. Of old, the spirit descended upon all alike; and Sangha was this hallowed and gifted congregation. But the glory has passed away, and the term been long sanctified and set apart. So has, in part, and for similar reasons, the word Arhata. But Bandya, as a generic title, and Bhikshu, Srávaka, and Chailaka, as specific ones, are still every-day names of every-day people, priests, if it must be so, but as I conceive, ascetics or monks merely. In the thick night of ignorance and superstition which still envelopes Tibet, the people fancy they yet behold Arhatas in the persons of their divine Lámas. No such imagination however possesses the heads of the followers of Buddha in Nepaul, Ceylon, or Indo-China;

*Bhikshu now appears to be the word rendered priest by us in Ceylon. But it is unquestionably mendicant, holy beggar, as Thero is Nayaka or Superior and Upásika Servitor, of a Convent. See Fahian, 12, 172, 234.

The possible meaning of this word has employed in vain the sagacity of sundry critics. In its proper form of Bandya (Vandya), it is pure Sanskrit, signify. ing a person entitled to reverence, and is derived from Vandana.

Equally curious and instructive is it to find in the Sanskrit records of Buddhism the solution of so many enigmas collected by travellers from all parts of Asia; e grege, Elphinstone's mound is a genuine Chaitya, and its proper name is Manikúlaya, or the place of the precious relic. The mound is a tomb temple. The "tumuli eorum Christi altaria" of the poet, is more true of Buddhism than even of the most perverted model of Christianity; the cause being probably the same, originally, in reference to both creeds, viz., persecution and martyrdom, with consequent divine honours to the sufferers. The Bauddhas, however, have in this matter gone a step further in the descending scale of representative adoration than the Catholics; for they worship the mere image of that structure which is devoted to the enshrining of the relics of their saints; they worship the architectural model or form of the Chaitya.

The Chaitya of Sambhunáth in Nepaul is affirmed to cove Jyoti rúpya Swayambhu, or the self-existent, in the form of flame: nor was there ever anything exclusive of theism in the connection of tomb and temple: for Chaityas were always dedicated to the Celestial Buddhas, not only in Nepaul, but in the plains of India, as the Chaityas of Sanchi, of Gyá, and of Bag, demonstrate. The Dhyani Buddhas appear in the oldest monuments of the continent and islands.

Buddhist monachism agrees surprisingly with Christian, whether owing to Nestorian infusion among the Uighurs or otherwise. Thus there are several orders of monks in both; in the former mendicant saints, naked or scantly clothed saints, and learned saints like the Franciscans, Dominicans, etc., and all of both creeds are usually social though hermits also be found.

though in the last mentioned country the name Arhata is popularly applied to the modern order of the clergy, an order growing there, as in Nepaul, (if my opinions be sound) out of that deviation from the primitive genius and type of the system which resulted necessarily from its popular diffusion as the rule of life and practice of whole nations.

In conclusion I would observe, that, in my apprehension, Rémusat's interpretation of the various senses of the Triadic doctrine is neither very complete, nor very accurate. In a religious point of view, by the first member is understood the founder of the creed, and all who, following his steps, have reached the full rank of a Maháyánika Buddha; by the second, the law or scriptures of the sect; and by the third, the congregation of the faithful, or primitive church, or body of original disciples, or any and every assemblage of true, i. e., of concentual ascetical observers of the law, past or present.

In a philosophical light, the precedence of Buddha or of Dharma indicates the theistic or atheistic school. With the former, Buddha is intellectual essence, the efficient cause of all, and underived. Dharma is material essence,|| the plastic cause, and underived, a co-equal biunity with Buddha; or else the plastic cause, as before, but dependent and derived from Buddha. Sangha is derived from, and compounded of Buddha and Dharma, is their collective energy in the state of action; the immediate operative cause of creation, its type or its agent.' With the latter or atheistic schools, Dharma is Diva natura, matter as the sole entity, invested with intrinsic activity and intelligence, the efficient and material cause of all.

Buddha is derivative from Dharma, is the active and intelligent force of nature, first put off from it and then operating upon it. Sangha is the result of that operation; is embryotic creation, the type and sum of all specific forms, which are spontaneously evolved from the union of Buddha with Dharma.*‡ The above are the principal distinctions; others there are which I cannot venture here to dwell on.

With regard to Rémusat's remark, "on voit que les trois noms sont placés sur le même niveau, comme

§ Bodhanatmaka iti Buddha, 'the intellectual essence is Buddha.'

|| Dharanitmaka iti Dharma, 'the holding, sustaining or containing substance is Dharma.' Again, Prakriteswari iti Prajna, 'the material goddess is Prajna,' one of the names of Dharma. The word Prajna is compounded of the intensive prefix pra, and jnana wisdom, or jna, to know. It imports the supreme wisdom of nature. Dharma is the universal substratum, is that which supports all form and quality in space. The Bauddha Dharma is the exact equivalent of the Brahmanical Matra. Matra is that which measures space; Dharma that which supports form and quality in space; both are very just and philosophical ideas relative to what we call matter and substance. substans or supporter of all phænomena, whatever its nature, is Dharma.

**

The

Samudayatmika iti Sangha, the multitudinous essence is Sangha:' multitude is the diagnosis of the versatile universe, as unity is of that of abstraction. *Prajnaopayatmakam Jagatah, from Prajna and Upaya, the world. Upaya is the energy of Prajna.

les trois représentations des mêmes êtres dans les planches de M. Hodgson avec cette différence que sur celles-ci, Sangha est à droite, et Dharma à gauche," I may just add, that the placing of Sangha to the right is a merely ritual technicality, conformable to the pújá of the Dakshinácháras,* and that all the philosophers and religionists are agreed in postponing Sangha to Dharma.

I possess very many drawings exbibiting the arrangement mentioned by Rémusat; but all subservient to mere ritual purposes and consequently worthy of no serious attention. The Matantara, or variorum text of the Pújáris of the present day, displays an infinite variety of formula,† illustrated by corresponding sculptural and pictorial devices, embodied in those works, and transferred from them to the walls and interior of temples existing all over the valley of Nepaul.

THE SWABHAVIKA DOCTRINE.

1. All things are governed or perfected by Swabháva; I too am governed by Swabháva. (Ashta Sahasrika.)

2. It is proper for the worshipper at the time of worship to reflect thus: I am Nirlipta,§ and the object of my worship is Nirlipta; I am that God (Iswara) to whom I address myself. Thus meditating, the worshipper should make pújá to all the celestials: for example, to Vajra Satwa Buddha, let him pay his adorations, first, by recollecting that all things with their Vija Mantras come from Swabháva in this order: from the vija || of the letter Y, air; from that of the letter R, fire; from that of the letter V, or B, water; and from that of the letter L, earth; and from that of the letter S, Mount Sumeru. On the summit of Sumeru is a lotos of precious stones, and above the lotos, a moon crescent, upon which sits, supremely exalted, Vajra Satwa. And as all (other) things proceed from Swabháva, so also does Vajra Satwa, thence called the self-existent." (Pújá Kánda.)

All things and beings (in the versatile universe) which are alike perishable, false as a dream, treacherous as a mirage, proceed, according to some, from Swabháva (nature), and according to others, from God (Iswara); and hence it is said, that Swabháva