A number of people believe in spirits, and make it a pleasure to summon them into their presence by way of pastime. A cylindrical box, containing a number of little sticks, each of which bears a number, may be seen in every temple, and before the altars of every god. When a man wants to know his future, he first of all burns candles and incense before the god; then he kneels down at the altar, holding one of these boxes in his hands. He then asks the question that he wants to have answered, and shakes the box gently until one of the little sticks fall out. This he picks up, and places it before the god; then hetakes two hemispheres, and throws them to the ground. If they fall on the flat side, that means that the little stick is the right one; but if on the convex side, that means that the stick is no good, and the thing must begin over again. If the stick has been recognised to be right, it is taken to the guardian of the temple, who gives a number corresponding to the one printed on it. This number has written on it a motto such as you see in crackers in Europe, and it is according to this motto that the future is read. Sometimes most extraordinary results are obtained by this means; at other times, however, the answer has no sense or portent.
Sometimes a plate is taken, and a piece of paper carefully wetted is applied to it. A Taoist priest is called, who begins by making mysterious gestures over the dish, and then rubs the paper on it with a piece of paper tightly rolled up. This rubbing produces a quantity of figures and scenes, and from these figures and scenes the future is predicted. Supposing a theft has been committed, theplate will show the scene of the theft, with the portrait of the thief. A cheap and easy way of detecting crime, it must be admitted. More than that, it shows what punishment will befall the guilty man. If a needle is taken and the eyes of the portrait of the thief in the dish be struck with it, the real offender instantaneously becomes blind.
We have also a number of inspired hypnotic mediums and lucid somnambulists. They go to sleep, the spirit moves them, they rise up and predict what is going to happen, or cure the sick. They can be pricked with pins without feeling any pain, and can walk on burning coals without burning themselves.
We have no want of literary gods. A large dish is taken filled with sand, and then the two ends of a carved stick of wood are moved over it. The god guides the points, and a number of acrostic sentences and poems are the result, written in the sand. The spirits of well-known literary men of bygone ages are called for, and they are begged to attend the meeting, and to give some specimens of their poetictalents. Let me describe one of these scenes.
The brush, after having moved about for some time, announces that a literary god is approaching. At once it begins to trace out the following quatrain:—
“Twilight covers half the mountains,The tired birds return to their nests.The stork, driven by the azure zephyr,Comes down from heaven through the clouds.”
“Twilight covers half the mountains,The tired birds return to their nests.The stork, driven by the azure zephyr,Comes down from heaven through the clouds.”
“Twilight covers half the mountains,The tired birds return to their nests.The stork, driven by the azure zephyr,Comes down from heaven through the clouds.”
“Twilight covers half the mountains,
The tired birds return to their nests.
The stork, driven by the azure zephyr,
Comes down from heaven through the clouds.”
Next a goddess presents herself and writes:
“The distant mountains are seen against the sunset, now bright, now pale;A sound of bells seem to wish to pierce the aurora borealis.My existence resembles the light cloud which in one moment crosses a thousand hills,Which permits me to contemplate the ten thousand mountains in one moment.”
“The distant mountains are seen against the sunset, now bright, now pale;A sound of bells seem to wish to pierce the aurora borealis.My existence resembles the light cloud which in one moment crosses a thousand hills,Which permits me to contemplate the ten thousand mountains in one moment.”
“The distant mountains are seen against the sunset, now bright, now pale;A sound of bells seem to wish to pierce the aurora borealis.My existence resembles the light cloud which in one moment crosses a thousand hills,Which permits me to contemplate the ten thousand mountains in one moment.”
“The distant mountains are seen against the sunset, now bright, now pale;
A sound of bells seem to wish to pierce the aurora borealis.
My existence resembles the light cloud which in one moment crosses a thousand hills,
Which permits me to contemplate the ten thousand mountains in one moment.”
The goddess asked at the same time that all those present should submit their poems, that she might applaud or condemn them. Each man gave a poem, which was immediately burned, so that it might reach in wraith the goddess.
Suddenly the friend of the goddess put in her appearance, or rather manifested herself. Her name was Siao-Ling, which means Young Lotus. This is what she wrote:
“Yesterday evening the brilliant snow and the icy wind cut like scissors.I opened my door to contemplate the distant view.I noticed that my plum-tree had added to its blossoms.”
“Yesterday evening the brilliant snow and the icy wind cut like scissors.I opened my door to contemplate the distant view.I noticed that my plum-tree had added to its blossoms.”
“Yesterday evening the brilliant snow and the icy wind cut like scissors.I opened my door to contemplate the distant view.I noticed that my plum-tree had added to its blossoms.”
“Yesterday evening the brilliant snow and the icy wind cut like scissors.
I opened my door to contemplate the distant view.
I noticed that my plum-tree had added to its blossoms.”
We then asked her if at that time of the year they were very busy in heaven.
“No,” she answered; “all our days are like each other. It is only on New Year’s Day that there is a great reception at the house of our Sovereign Master.”
“Do the gods keep Lenten fasts?”
“Our Master before becoming a genii used to abstain from rice. Once immortal, he gave up food of all kinds. As regards the food of the gods, it is composed of venison, of dragons’ livers, of mountain flowers, and fruits of Paradise, and so on.”
“Is it true that besides heaven there is hell?”
“Hell and heaven are in the minds of men—one represents what is good, the other what is bad.”
This exchange of questions and answers went off as easily as a conversation between friends. The answers were given much more quickly than at table-turning seances. Our amusing game lasted until long past midnight.
The above is a very accurate description of this kind of spirit seance, as generally practised in China. Of course, in different places the language and the way of thinking differs. It is because of the elevated style of the language used at these meetings that they enjoy so much favour with our literary men.
In no country, so much as in China, has the belief in phrenologists and chiromancists been so general. According to these men of science, every mark on the face and body has its meaning. In consequence, as such and such a sign, say, on your left eye, may be counter-balanced by some other sign, say, on your right cheek, it will be seen that a whole series of combinations and calculations has to be gone through before the definite diagnosis of a person can be obtained. When one goes to consult these oracles, they first of all examine your face, then the hands, and then the body, just as a doctor who wishes to thoroughlyexamine a patient. After that they ask you to walk with your usual step, which is another factor in the combination. According to their lore, the various acts of life have significance—thus, slow eating, quick digestion, heavy sleep, and laziness in dressing are all very bad signs. A dark forehead means mourning for a near relation. A long face on a short body indicates a man of a calm and quiet life. A head short set in shoulders and a fat round stomach betoken a vile man. Long ears with the lobes ball-shaped are sure signs of a statesman. Large ears bent forward show that their owner leads an agitated and fatiguing existence. The famous Lao-Tse, the founder of the Taoist religion, had ears seven inches long. Thick and bushy eyebrows mean that their possessor will be rich in brothers and sisters. Each break in them means the loss of one brother, and the nearer the break is to the outer end, the younger that brother will be. When the eyebrows are longer than the eyes, that means that you have a literary manbefore you. A spot at the side of the eye means that the person will have tears to shed. The nose should be large and thick. It is then the “Spring of the Mountain,” the “Devil’s Well,” the “Lake of the Genii,” or the “Tower of the Soul.” The nose is considered the principal feature, because many of our sovereigns had very large noses, and notably Emperors Fou-Hi-U and Han-Kao-Tsou. The latter was further endowed with a thick, black beard, and besides having the face of a dragon, had seventy-two black birth marks below his hip. Another emperor, Weng-Ouang, who lived at an earlier date, had four breasts. It will be seen that teratology plays its part in China. To all these persons, as to Lao-Tse, the high places that they afterwards occupied were foretold. When the beard is bristly, the wearer is a sly man. A long beard is the sign of a long life. A brown beard betokens a general. A Buddhist high-priest, whose beard reached down to his knees, had his lofty position predicted on that account.A big mouth will always have food. A black spot at the corner of the mouth promises good cheer for ever. A sly and deceitful man has thin and pinched lips. Red lips betoken good birth. White and equal teeth are signs of aristocratic connections. Hard teeth foretell premature old age. A soft tongue is the tongue of an orator. A rough voice, like that of a wolf, and waspish eyes belong to pitiless and unfeeling people.
A number of tokens are to be read in the hand. The observations of our chiromancists being almost identical with those of their European confrères, I will therefore not enter into these details, but will break the monotony of this description with a few anecdotes.
A literary man, named Tao-Kan, had a line of happiness which went in a perfect straight line from the wrist to the middle of the first joint of the middle finger. He was told that, if this line lengthened out any more, he might expect the highest honours.He contented himself with pricking the extremity of this line with a needle, and writing the word “duke” with the blood; and as it happened he was created a duke.
Another, named Li-Kou, one day consulted a phrenologist, who pointed out to him that his temple-bones were very pronounced, and that they reached out to behind his head, and that, in consequence, he would be raised to a place of honour. This prophecy was duly realised.
A prefect of Ho-Nan, named Tcheou, met a phrenologist, who spoke to him as follows:—In three years you will be appointed minister and generalissimo, and one year later you will die of hunger. The prefect laughed, and said, that once in so high a position, he could not starve. But the phrenologist insisted that such was his destiny, and that he could not escape, basing his assertion on the fact that the little veins which usually flow vertically towards the mouth, had a horizontal position in his face.All that had been predicted happened. After having risen to be a minister and commander-in-chief, the former prefect had to retire in disgrace, and died of a disease which prevented him from taking any food.
Duke Ouang-King-Tche, whose mother was a phrenologist, was born in a violet caul. When he was a little older, two long breasts grew under his arms. The mother announced a brilliant future for her son, and events proved that she was right.
It had been predicted to the mother of Empress Wou-Hao, of the dynasty of the Thang family, that she would have a child who would reign on the throne. As she was a simple middle-class woman, she did not place much faith in this piece of news. She had a daughter which she showed to a phrenologist, and told him that it was a boy. He made the child walk, and said, “If it be a boy, it will one day become emperor.” As a matter of fact the childbecame empress, and after the death of her husband mounted on the throne. She was one of the two empresses who have reigned over China.
An emperor, of the dynasty of the Tchings, had no children. He sent for a phrenologist, and asked him to tell him which of the ladies in the palace could make him a father. The phrenologist pointed out one, but added that after having given birth to a child she would be devoured by a tiger. The young woman in due time presented the emperor with a son. This point having been realised, the second prediction was thought about. Nobody had seen any tiger, and nobody thought that the prediction could be realised. The picture of a tiger was sent for, so that people might see what kind of an animal it was that was to prove fatal to the empress, and the young woman, wishing to destroy her enemy, struck the picture with so much force that she wounded herself, and died of gangrene in the arm.
A man aged thirty years had already losttwo of his brothers. His mother, fearing for his life, also went to a phrenologist, and asked if her last child was not also threatened with the same fate that had befallen his brothers. The phrenologist said that in order to answer he must pass one night with the young man. During his sleep he listened attentively to the breathing of the sleeper, and noticed that his breath seemed to come out of his ears. The phrenologist then comforted the mother, and said, “Your son will live long and happy, for he breathes like a tortoise.”
There are, of course, numbers of quacks in the profession. The following is a story about one of them. It is rather amusing:—
The Governor of a province once sent for a phrenologist, and asked him to select amongst a number of ladies, who were all dressed in the same way, which was his wife. The phrenologist looked at them for a long time without being able to answer. At last he cried out, “It is she out of whose forehead a yellow cloud has just issued forth.” Ofcourse everybody turned round to look at the real lady, and the phrenologist equally, of course, guessed at once which was the Governor’s wife, and pointed her out with the most prophetic of gestures.
These matches were played with little rods, which the players had to throw into a long-necked and narrow-mouthed vase.
According to the Book of Rites, the host at a dinner party had to offer these arrows to his guests, and it was their duty to refuse them at first, but after some pressing to accept them. A servant then brought a vase on to the table, and the guests threw each two or four arrows into its mouth. At rich dinner-parties each arrow that entered the vasewas saluted with a burst of music from the orchestra. A horse or a carriage was given to the player who succeeded in putting all his arrows into the vase.
Our forefathers asserted that the character of a man could easily be told by his manner of playing this game. Suspicious and timid people threw their arrows for the most part askance, whilst weak-minded men invariably missed the mark. To succeed once and to miss twice was a sign of a want of perseverance, for to get the arrow exactly into the mouth of the vase a sharp eye and a good aim are necessary, and it will not do to do too much or too little. The throw must also be straight, and the aim exactly at the centre, and this, in conformity with human principles about straightforwardness and moderation, our forefathers used also to think that the activity put into play at this game resembled that of the conscience. To miss one’s aim with an arrow was equivalent to neglecting a duty. The rule was to reflect with prudence, and to throw with measure.He who did this was fitted to become an able statesman.
One wins without manifesting pride or showing his delight, another cheats or tries to draw too near the mark. These different ways of acting enable one to distinguish between honest and dishonest people.
To conclude, men used thus to be judged formerly by trifles of small importance in themselves, but which became powerful auxiliaries of truth. And it was for that reason that our ancestors included this game in their rituals.
This game is also a very ancient one, and consists in getting a person to guess what object is hidden under a bell of non-transparent material, metal or china. Those who guess must not name the object directly, but must compose a quatrain referring to it.
For instance, supposing a lizard has been hidden, this is how a clever player would tell us that he had guessed it:
“It is not a dragon, for it has no horns;It is not a serpent, for it has feet;It can divide itself, and it can climb up walls.It is a lizard.”
“It is not a dragon, for it has no horns;It is not a serpent, for it has feet;It can divide itself, and it can climb up walls.It is a lizard.”
“It is not a dragon, for it has no horns;It is not a serpent, for it has feet;It can divide itself, and it can climb up walls.It is a lizard.”
“It is not a dragon, for it has no horns;
It is not a serpent, for it has feet;
It can divide itself, and it can climb up walls.
It is a lizard.”
One day three objects were hidden under the bell—a swallow’s egg, a piece of honeycomb, and a spider. The following were the quatrains which revealed the nature of the hidden objects:—
“The first is one of the beloved of spring, who climbs on the roofs of the drawing-rooms.When the male or the female is fledged,It at once spreads out its wings.It is a swallow’s egg.The second is a house hung upside down.It has a multitude of doors and windows.The sweetest fluid is stored up in it.And its inhabitants multiply in it.It is a honeycomb.The third resembles a long-footed slug.It produces threads for making nets,Into which all falls for its nourishment.It is night which makes it happy.It is a spider.”
“The first is one of the beloved of spring, who climbs on the roofs of the drawing-rooms.When the male or the female is fledged,It at once spreads out its wings.It is a swallow’s egg.The second is a house hung upside down.It has a multitude of doors and windows.The sweetest fluid is stored up in it.And its inhabitants multiply in it.It is a honeycomb.The third resembles a long-footed slug.It produces threads for making nets,Into which all falls for its nourishment.It is night which makes it happy.It is a spider.”
“The first is one of the beloved of spring, who climbs on the roofs of the drawing-rooms.When the male or the female is fledged,It at once spreads out its wings.It is a swallow’s egg.
“The first is one of the beloved of spring, who climbs on the roofs of the drawing-rooms.
When the male or the female is fledged,
It at once spreads out its wings.
It is a swallow’s egg.
The second is a house hung upside down.It has a multitude of doors and windows.The sweetest fluid is stored up in it.And its inhabitants multiply in it.It is a honeycomb.
The second is a house hung upside down.
It has a multitude of doors and windows.
The sweetest fluid is stored up in it.
And its inhabitants multiply in it.
It is a honeycomb.
The third resembles a long-footed slug.It produces threads for making nets,Into which all falls for its nourishment.It is night which makes it happy.It is a spider.”
The third resembles a long-footed slug.
It produces threads for making nets,
Into which all falls for its nourishment.
It is night which makes it happy.
It is a spider.”
Other guessers were still more skilful, albeit they did not compose quatrains.
A Sovereign had placed a white bird under a bell, and ordered his Minister to guess. He answered that the emperor could not force him to guess. When he was asked why not, he said, “Let him, first of all, let his white bird escape.”
On another occasion a rat was hidden. Everybody said it was a rat. But one very clever player insisted that there were four rats under the bell. The bell was removed, and it was found that, true enough, there were four rats. Whilst she had been in confinement, the rat had given birth to three little ones.
Guessing is done by means of the Koua, or diagrams, of which I have spoken elsewhere.
We also play with shuttlecocks, made of four duck feathers, the ends of which are passed through the square hole in the centre of one of our coins and bent down, which renders them very elastic. Ladies play with battledores; gentlemen use their feet, as in the English game of football. A certain height is fixed upon, and the player who fails to reach it loses the game. The same game is played with leather balls stuffed with cotton.
A coin is thrown against the wall. The player whose coin springs back farthest from the wall begins. He throws his coin in any direction, and it is agreed upon that the other players must throw their coins so as to fall at such or such a distance from the place where his is lying. Those who manage todo this, or get closest to the mark, win, those who are farthest off lose.
This game used formerly to be played by the ladies of the Court, but now-a-days it is only played by children in the streets.
Our card games are more complicated than those played in Europe. One of the reasons of this is the number of cards in the Chinese pack, which contains 120, subdivided into four classes, corresponding with four colours, and into thirty species. There are thus only four cards of each species, and thirty of each class.
The pack includes nine cords; the first cord, the second cord, and so on, up to the ninth cord; nine cakes; nine faces; a red man; a civilian; and a butterfly.
Different kinds of games can, of course, be played with the same kind of cards.
Five players take their places at the table; the cards are shuffled, and are cut into eight packs of fifteen each. Three dice are cast, and three of the packs are removed in the order designated by the numbers on the dice. A third cast of the dice determines who is to take the first of the five remaining packs. The player on the right takes the second, and so on. The three packs that were removed are placed in a box, and the bottom card of all is turned round and given to the happy possessor of the first pack. Each takes his cards, and arranges them according to the kind and value of the cards, thus: first cord, second cord, third cord, and so on; or, first man, second man, third man; or, first cake, second cake, third cake; or, second cord, second man, second cake. To win, a player must have one ormore sets. There are seven sets, composed as follows:—
III.—Eighth cake, second cord, second man.
II.—Ninth man, eighth cord, butterfly.
V.—Ninth cord, the civilian, ninth man.
IV.—Ninth cord, the civilian, the red man.
VI.—Seventh cake, third cord, third man.
VII.—Ninth cake, first cord, first man.
I.—First, second, and third cakes.
The cards must be arranged in sets, as soon as they have been picked up off the table. If a player has only two cards of one set, he must hand an isolated card to the player on his right, who takes it, if it is of any service to him, and, in his turn, hands one of the cards in his hand to his neighbour on the right. If, on the other hand, he has no use for it, he rejects it, and takes the bottom card off the pack in the box. This he keeps and hands another card to the player on his right, and so on.
When one of the players has managed to get together all the seven sets, with the exception of one set, which lacks only onecard to complete it, he lays down on the table the leading card of one of the sets, and this gives him the right to take all the cards which are taken out of the box to complete his sets. If he succeeds in doing so, he wins.
The number of sets held by the winner are then counted, and he is paid, according to the amount fixed upon at the start, so much for each set.
Sometimes, also, it is the first card at the top of the pack placed in the box that is turned round. This card is called gold, and every player, who has a similar card in his hand, may use it instead of any other card that may be wanting to complete any set in his hand.
This game is played by three players.
The cards are divided into eight packs of fourteen cards each, and eight cards remain over. The dice indicate which three packs are to be placed in the box. Twopacks are chosen at haphazard, and are added to the eight cards that remained over.
A second cast of the dice determines the distribution of the three remaining packs, which each player is to take.
The player who takes the last of these three packs must spread out on the table, face upwards, and according to their values, all the cards in the pack which is composed of the two selected packs, together with the eight cards that remained over, so that all the players can see what they are, just as is the case with the dummy at whist.
In reward for his trouble, the rule of the game awards him a privilege. He receives, at once, the top card in the box, which otherwise he would only have had later on, and so he knows at once what card to expect.
The first to play takes one of the cards in his hand to fish for one of the cards, which he hopes will be the same number (it is not necessary that it should have thesame picture) on the table with it. He then draws another card from the bottom of the pack in the box. Each of the other players does the same in turn. If the dummy is dead, that is to say, if none of its cards is of the number you want, you do not fish, but you throw out a card—or hook—without taking anything.
When all the cards have been drawn, each player counts his sets he is able to make up out of the cards he has fished. These sets are the same as in the preceding game, with the exception of number V. and number VI., which do not exist in this game. Each card in set number I. counts as thirteen points; in set number II., for twelve points; in set number III., for eleven points; in set number IV., for thirteen points; and in set number VII., for ten points. Outside the sets each card is worth only the same number of points as its numerical value. The first card is worth one, the second two, and so on.
The same cards are used, and two persons play. The cards are all placed together on the table, and each player takes three cards, of which he turns one up, so as to see which is to begin pecking. The first player throws one card on the table and the other does the same. If the player whose turn it is to throw sees that with the cards in his hand and those on the table he can make up a set he picks them up, and so the game goes on; the cards being taken three by three from the pack until all have been drawn. When that is done, the number of points held by each player, according to the system of counting described above, is counted.
In all these games, besides the stake, each player may place a sum of money or a single coin before him on the table. If he loses, he loses this money also; whilst if he wins, each player has to pay him an equivalent sum. This is betting added to staking. We have also cards representingchess figures, in which the cannon, the carriage, and the horse form a set, as do also three similar cards, or the general, the councillor, and the elephant.
These cards are played in the same way as the others. Chinese cards are always much smaller than those used in Europe, measuring about one inch by two. These cards were invented under the reign of the Han dynasty, as a pastime and as a relief in solitude. But now-a-days they have become a social game, even in parties where people are far from wanting subjects of amusement.
We have no official lottery, and, unless I am greatly mistaken, we never did have one. The private lottery, however, which is generally very advantageous to its promoters, does exist in China. When a person is in want of money, be it to pay for the funeral of a relation, or for the expenses connected with a marriage in his family, or to help one of his relations to go to Pekin for the examinations, he gets forty or fifty friends and acquaintances of his together, and begs them to take tickets in his lottery. These tickets cost so much, payable in fractions at each of the drawings. The first prize-winneris, of course, the organiser of the lottery, and the amount at stake for the first drawing becomes his without any drawing being necessary to determine his right. That is in reality only an advance or loan to be repaid by instalments, for at all the subsequent drawings he pays just like his friends, and cannot win a second prize. The second and subsequent drawings determine the prize-winners, according to the number of points obtained by each player with the dice-box. Six dice are used. At each of these parties, which take place once a quarter or once every six months, the prize-winner always gives a dinner to the others. Everything is done so straightforwardly that in the end nobody loses, as each player can only win once. Nobody may play until he has paid the amount due on his ticket. The highest throw takes the whole stake, without deduction either for commission or interest, a small amount being retained for the dinner alone. In China we do not invest our money as is done everywhereelse, and accordingly the last winner has no reason to regret that his turn to win only came at the end. On the contrary, this investment of small sums paid away from time to time, resulting in the acquisition of a lump sum at the end, is a very good saving operation. It helps to buy a piece of land, and at the same time he has the satisfaction of knowing that he has helped a friend in need. The use of these lotteries is very general amongst the middle classes, that is to say, amongst very honourable and very solvable people, who don’t like to place themselves under obligations by asking for other kinds of loans, and are too proud to accept alms. Being in want of money they make use of this system of borrowing, with the obligation of repaying the sum received in a certain number of annuities. In the upper classes money is never needed, whilst amongst the lower classes the lottery system cannot be employed, because there is no guarantee of the solvability of the organiser. Amongst thelatter class, however, there is another kind of mutual help which renders the greatest services to the less fortunate members of Chinese society. Supposing that a workman has lost his father, his colleagues immediately subscribe enough to pay the funeral expenses. Or supposing that he wants to get married, arrangements are made to supply him at once with the funds he may require. Supposing his son passes his examinations, instead of sending him presents in kind, his friends send him money, so that he may have the means of paying his expenses connected with the celebration of his success. Thus we have no public charity funds. These are replaced by a friendly and solid understanding between people of the same class and position of society, who know each other’s means, and understand how to help each other. Such mutual services are never refused. A respectable man can always count on the help of his friends under the circumstances mentioned. And this simple organisation forceseach man to be kind and helpful towards his neighbour, for nobody is sure of to-morrow. One does as one would be done by. Thus when one of these associates in benevolence happens to die, his widow and children continue to profit by it, and receive together with the inheritance of the deceased the tokens of gratitude from those he has helped, and which, had he lived, he would have enjoyed in due time. We have in this system a kind of pension and life insurance fund. Our system, however, forces every one—and just because he has no special right to anything—to be good and kind towards all his neighbours. Besides these regular and useful lottery organisations, there are others which are irregular and mischievous. These are mere forms of gambling pure and simple. I wish to speak, in the first place, of the game of Thirty-six Beasts, about which there has been so much talk of late—perhaps more so in Paris than in Camboja. This Cambojan roulette has been described over and over again, and is, it may be mentioned, an importation of Chineseorigin. We do not play this game with figures as our neighbours do, but with counters, on which the names of the animals are written. A group of individuals announce that they are going to open a bank, and this without formality of any sort. The news is discreetly and rapidly hawked about the town by the help of numerous agents. Every morning the bankers hoist up on to a high pole a bag, into which one of the thirty counters has been placed at haphazard. The public stake their money on any one of the thirty-six beasts, and those who have backed the beast whose name is inscribed on the counter in that bag that day, win thirty times what they have staked. The six last names are exclusively reserved to the bank. Needless to say, that the players almost always lose. Superstition, which always goes with gambling games, is not wanting here either. To guess the right name, players will put the list before their gods, or before Buddha, and beg him to give a sign by which they may know which beast is the winning one. Ashesof incense falling on one of the names in the list, or the burning caused by a spark from one of the altar candles, are considered sure straight-tips to the gamblers, who, no matter under what sky they live, are always far more simple than intelligent.
As may be seen from this rapid analysis, the game of the thirty-six beasts is a kind of roulette, in which the names of animals are used instead of numbers. It is forbidden by law. Doubtless it is only another kind of lottery, but the daily drawings are too ruinous for those who are carried away by their passion for gambling. This is the reason why, in the Middle Empire, this dangerous game is forbidden. It is never let out to authorised speculators, and is always carried on in a clandestine manner, and is invariably very short-lived. If the organisers fall into the clutches of the law, they are very severely punished. Several years’ imprisonment is not considered too severe a punishment for these harpies on the purses of the poor. On the other hand, the mutual help lottery isconsidered by all as a useful and respectable undertaking, so much so, that, should it be found impossible to get a sufficient number of people to put their money into one of these speculations, the public officials may be applied to, and are always found ready to contribute their mites to an undertaking which is purely of self-help, and which has often relieved those miseries to which, alas! our poor human race is exposed in every clime and at every age.
The theatre in China is always a private institution. We have no State-supported theatres, but, on the other hand, many rich people have theatres in their houses. In the north of China the public has its theatres the same as in Europe, where regular performances of fashionable pieces are given, and where people may dine in the boxes or on the balcony. Everywhere else there is nothing to be had in the way of theatrical representations, except from troupes of strolling actors, who play in the temples, restaurants, orprivate houses. A set stage is to be seen in every temple, and performances are given on it on the feast day of the patron god of the temple, or for the accomplishment of certain vows. In both cases a troupe is sent for and a piece is selected. Whilst the organisers are taking their seats in the side balconies, which are our equivalent for your stage-boxes, the public is admitted gratuitously, and may place itself either in front or around the stage. At the end of each act—as a rule, only one-act pieces are played—an actor, disguised as a woman, offers the organisers of the fête a certain number of sticks to choose from. On each stick is written the name of one of the plays in the repertory of the troupe. A performance always includes five acts, or, as is usually the case, and generally means the same thing, five pieces, which have to be played through in the course of the evening. On the Emperor’s or Empress’s birthday similar performances are given before the houses of all the public officials, and take place accordinglyin the street. This is a treat for the people, who may attend without paying. There are stages in our big restaurants, and performances are given there twice or three times every week. The public seat themselves in parties of four or of six at tables, which are arranged in parallel rows to the stage, and in such a way that nobody has his back turned to the stage. As the customers of these restaurants are all rich people, the actors often get down off the stage to serve wine round, and to ask what piece they shall play. Should the piece thus chosen be found a success and well played, the person who chose it rewards the actors with cash. The actor takes the notes and places them on a tray, which he shows to the public in proof of the generosity of the giver. Should the piece be badly played, or any portion of it be badly sung, the public remains absolutely silent, without manifesting feeling of any kind. The practice of hissing is never indulged in in Chinese theatres. The silence of the public is the rebukeadministered to the actors. If, on the other hand, the piece has been creditably performed, there is only one voice among the public to applaud. All the spectators rise to their feet as of one common accord, and shout “Lao, Lao.” This shows that in China we are both polite in our disapproval and prompt to enthusiasm when we are pleased. This national trait is the key to the conduct of the majority of the Chinese under all circumstances. They never criticise directly; they never noisily disapprove of anything, nor give vent to cries of anger: silence suffices for them; silence, which in itself alone has the eloquence of the severest comments, the most indignant exclamations, and is withal dignified; silence, which condemns without discussion and without appeal. A peculiarity of our theatres which may be noted here, is that the orchestra, instead of being placed in front of the stage, is always behind it, and plays no matter what piece of music, and always without notes. The conductor wields no baton, but has a kind oftambourine in one hand and a pair of castanets in the other. The first indicates the time, the others changes in the tone. The actors always play by heart without the help of a prompter. We should laugh were we to see a musician using notes, or a gentleman hidden away in a kind of kennel whispering words to an actor at the moment perhaps when he is in the finest frenzy of passion. In front of the stage, on the two pillars which face the public, there may be generally seen amongst other decorations two bills inscribed with philosophical reflections.
The following is one of the best known:—
“You may consider this performance as true or as false. It is always an image of life and of its conclusions.”
“You may consider this performance as true or as false. It is always an image of life and of its conclusions.”
Besides our big theatres we have also puppet shows, in which the puppets are tied to strings and worked by people hidden in the flies. Punch and Judy, worked by the fingers of an actor concealed behind a curtain, are very popular in China. These miniature theatres are much in favour with the peopleof places which cannot support a real theatre. The performances are exactly the same as on the large stages, and are always accompanied with music and songs from behind the stage. The only difference is that the actors are in cardboard instead of being of flesh and blood, and are very small instead of being very big, a matter of little consequence after all. The size, the costumes, and the substance of the actors may be overlooked, for all that is merely superficial and a deceit of the eye. The truth—the great and immortal truth—is that our desires and our passions, our joys and our woes, are always the same, and never, never change. In every clime and in every age do we see the eternal human comedy repeat itself.