foot grows at the end of her tongue, [ls
compressing the feet a more foolish custom than
tight-lacing? It is certainly less dangerous to
health.]
One day is as good as three, if you do
everything at its proper time.—The less indulgence
you yield to yourself, the more you have to spare
for others.—Rich folk find relations in the most
distant lands; the poor find none, not even in
the bosom of their own family.—The truths
which we are the least fond of learning, are
those which it most behoves us to know.—We
pardon everything in the person who never
pardons himself.—Rich people have the greatest
number of wants.—We ought not to employ
those whom we suspect, nor suspect those whom
we employ.—You never need have all your wits
about you so much as when you have to do with
a fool.—Dissolute prince, pitiless master.—
Marble, however polished it may be, is not the
less cold nor hard for that; the same is the case
with courtiers.—It is better to save one dying
man, than to bury a hundred dead.
The leading feature of Chinese morality is
filial piety; it is the starting-point of every
virtue, of every social duty, the basis of family
ties, the principle of government, the
fundamental law of all other laws. Consequently, the
penal code of China contains several clauses
concerning the duties of children towards their
father and mother. It stigmatises as impious
whoever brings a lawsuit against his near
relations, insults them, or omits to put on mourning
for them. The obligatory rules for mourning
are three years for relations of the first
degree, nine months for those of the second, five
for those of the third degree, and three months
for the rest. Death is the punishment for
striking one's senior relations, for insulting or
falsely accusing them. Parricide, in particular,
is punished by torture to death with knives.
The writings of philosophers, the proclamations
of emperors, the addresses of mandarins, are
continually eulogising filial piety, and invoking
it on every occasion, even à propos of resistance
to authority, disobedience to the law, infringements
of the rights of property, and attempts
on the life of others. On the other hand, they
refer to filial piety, acts of obedience,
compassion, probity, and courage. In consequence
of this principle, the titles of the first
mandarins are transmissible not to their sons but
to their ancestors. By an honorary right, the
glory acquired by a son reverts to his father.
Confucius, in reply to his disciple Tse-hia,
who asked, "How ought a son to behave to the
enemy of his father?" answered, "He will lie
down to sleep in garments of mourning, with no
pillow but his weapons; he will accept no
employment, and will not suffer his father's enemy
to remain on the earth. If he meets him, whether
in the market or in the palace court, he will not
return home to fetch his arms, but will attack
him on the spot." He moreover said, "Your
father's murderer ought not to remain beneath
the same sky with yourself; you must not lay
down your arms whilst your brother's murderer
exists; and you cannot dwell in the same kingdom
with the murderer of your friend."
Confucius might have done better had he
advised an appeal to the law for the punishment
of the murderer; but his words are only the
expression of a noble sentiment pushed to the
extreme.
According to law, a father may, first, sell,
pledge, hire, or bind his children; secondly, keep
them always in a state of minority; thirdly,
dispose by will of the whole of his property to
their prejudice; and, fourthly, at any time
reassert his paternal rights. At his death, the
paternal uncle, or the elder brother, inherits
those rights. The law even pursues any neglect
of the mourning prescribed for near relations.
The dominant power of filial love is expressed
by numerous sayings which are in everybody's
mouth; such as: A good son never believes that
he has succeeded in any undertaking until he
has obtained the suffrage of his father.—To praise
a son, is to boast of oneself; to blame a
father, is to disgrace oneself.—What a good
son fears, is, not the threats, the reproaches, nor
the violence of his father, but his silence.—A
good son, is a good brother, a good husband, a
good father, a good relation, a good friend, a
good neighbour, and a good citizen; a bad son,
is nothing but a bad son.—He who fears that
the thunder-bolt should wake his parents, has
no fear on his own account.—Respect and love
are the two wings of filial piety.
In spite of this worship paid by the son to
the parent, there are laws and customs which
offer a sad contrast to its spirit. Thus, a son
must refuse to recognise as his mother his
father's wife, if repudiated by him, and also his
widow, if she marries again. The son of one of
his father's secondary wives must obey and serve
the first wife as if she were his mother, and wear
mourning for her, to the exclusion of his real
mother. It ought to be stated, to Confucius's
honour, that he did not dictate any of these
arbitrary and inconsistent laws; they were
introduced by Buddhist or Tartar influence, and
made to prevail over his more natural teachings.
A singular mode of testifying filial piety
consists in preparing, during the lifetime of a father
or mother, the coffin destined to receive the
remains. The sum expended on this ill-omened
present is large in proportion to the strength of
affection which it is proposed to manifest. It is
presented with all due form, in the hope of causing
an agreeable surprise. The serious illness
of a parent affords the opportunity of displaying
a lively interest in his health, by bringing the
coffin and placing it close to his bed; he can
then die witn the delightful satisfaction of knowing
that everything has been prepared to render
him due funereal honour. The coffin in China
plays the same part that the viaticum does in
Roman Catholic countries. This custom
habituates them to regard the approach of death
without emotion. Chinese persons in easy
circumstances find a pleasure in undertaking their
own proper funerals and arranging a bier that
suits their taste.
Dickens Journals Online