CHAPTER XVIII

MOURNING FOR ONE’S PARENTS

Confucius said: “When a filial son loses his parent, he, of course, cannot help crying piteously. He cannot feel happy when he hears music. He will have no appetite for food, however tempting a savoury. He will greet no visitor, have no regard for elegance of speech, and will put on a mourning-dress instead of a beautiful one. All these tell us the extent of his sorrow for his lost parent. What is meant by the saying that he must try to eat something after three days from the death of his parent, though he has no appetite for it? It teaches us that although we have to show great sorrow for the dead, yet we must not sacrifice ourselves on their account, and that we must not carry self-mortification so far as to destroy our life. This is the doctrine laid down by good men of old. That mourning only extends to the period of three years shows that there is a limit for our sorrow.

“For the corpse we make a coffin and some clothes. We set forth the sacrificial vessels, and at the sight of them grief breaks forth afresh. The women beat their breasts, the men stamp their feet, and with weeping and wailing escort the coffin to its resting-place. For its burial we buy a well-drained ground. In memory of our deceased parent we build a shrine. For the purpose of showing our remembrance we offer sacrifices every spring and autumn.

“When our parents are alive, we should treat them with love and respect. When they are dead, we should have sorrow for them. By doing so we shall have performed the duty of mankind, and have done what ought to be done by a filial son, and by the living to the dead.

THE TWENTY-FOUR EXAMPLES

No. I

_The Filial Piety that influenced Heaven_

Yü Shun, the son of Ku Sou, had an exceedingly filial disposition; his father, however, was stupid, his mother perverse, and his younger brother, Hsiang, very conceited. His actions are related in the _Shang Shu_, in the _Chung Yung_, and in the works of Mencius. Those who speak of him say that Shun cultivated the hills of Li (in the province of Shansi), where he had elephants to plough his fields and birds to weed the grain. So widespread was the renown of his virtue that the Emperor Yao heard of him, and sent his nine sons to serve him, and gave to him two of his daughters in marriage, and afterwards resigned to him the imperial dignity.

Of all those whose virtue and filial duty deserve to be illustrated, Shun is pre-eminent; and his example, in obeying his parents, is worthy of being handed down to posterity, through myriads of ages. Once he was in great danger in a well, into which he was commanded by his father to descend, and his brother cast down stones upon him; again, he was in a granary, when it was set on fire; but from these, as well as from many other dangers, he escaped unhurt. He fished, burned pottery, ploughed and sowed, with great toil on the hills of Li. He laboriously performed all these duties, but his parents were not affected, while his brother Hsiang became more insolent and overbearing. His parents alleged crimes against him, but Shun could not find that he had done wrong; he loved and revered them, though they did not requite him with affection. His feelings were grieved at these manifold troubles, and with strong crying and tears he invoked Heaven.

His perfect sincerity was effectual to renovate his family; his parents became pleasant, and his brother more conciliatory and virtuous. Heaven also considered his excellency to be great, and regarded him as truly good, thus establishing his reputation so firmly that it was perpetuated to, and influenced, succeeding ages. Even Confucius is regarded as elevated but a little above Shun, and I would praise and extol them both to coming generations.

No. II

_Affection shown in tasting Soups and Medicines_

The Emperor Wên of the Han dynasty, the third son of his father, Kao Tsu, was appointed Prince over the country of Tai. His own mother, Po, was Queen-dowager, and Wên was constant in his attendance on her. She was ill for three years, during which time his eyelids did not close, nor was the girdle of his dress unloosed; and she took none of the soups and medicines prepared for her till he had tasted them. This benevolence and filial affection was heard of throughout the empire.

Wên received direction to go and arrange the imperial sacrifices, and requested his mother to accompany him to the royal domains. Morning and evening he visited her in her own apartments, and handed her the fragrant dishes. If the provisions had lost their flavour, he was vexed; and when tasting the medicines he commanded perfect silence. The live-long night his girdle was not loosed, nor for three years were his eyelids closed. By as much as his animal spirits were exhausted, by so much the more did his heart become fixed on the subject of its affection; and for a long time his thoughts were not distracted. Such filial love and virtue so moved upon Heaven’s kind regard, that it wrought upon his father to confer the throne upon him as his patrimony.

No. III

_Gnawing her Finger pained his Heart_

During the Chou dynasty there lived a lad named Tsêng Ts‘an, a disciple of Confucius, who served his mother very dutifully. Tsêng was in the habit of going to the hills to collect faggots; and once, while he was thus absent, many guests came to his house, towards whom his mother was at a loss to know how to act. She, while expecting her son, who delayed his return, began to gnaw her fingers. Tsêng suddenly felt a pain in his heart, and took up his bundle of faggots in order to return home; and when he saw his mother, he kneeled and begged to know what was the cause of her anxiety. She replied: “There have been some guests here who came from a great distance, and I bit my finger in order to arouse you to return to me.”

The faculties of mind and body in both mother and son sprang originally from the same source, and are alike; but in common men this connection is broken and interrupted, and they are dull and stupid. Those sages whose nature is heavenly differ from the rest of mankind; and virtue, as in a breath, permeates their whole souls. At a certain time, when Tsêng was absent to collect faggots, visitors came and knocked at his door in great haste; and as there was no man at home ready to receive them, his mother was much grieved. He had entered the dense fog on the hills and did not know where he was, when his mother leaned against the door-post and gnawed her fingers as if she would go in quest of him. Her son in the hills is suddenly seized with a pain in his heart, and quickly takes up his bundle of faggots to return; although distant, he sympathises with his mother’s grief and complaint. The hearts of mother and son are mutually affected, one influencing the other, in the same manner as the amber draws small straws and the loadstone attracts the slender needle. From the remotest period sages have been able to control their dispositions, and in the deepest silence have revolved their actions as in a breath. The moving influence that such minds have on each other the generality of men cannot understand. The devotedness with which they serve their parents and the respect with which they cherish them—who can comprehend.

No. IV

_Clad in a Single Garment, he was obedient to his Mother_

During the Chou dynasty lived Min Sun, a disciple of Confucius, who in early life lost his mother. His father subsequently married another wife, who bore him two children, but disliked Sun. In winter she clothed him in garments made of rushes, while her own children wore cotton clothes. Min was employed in driving his father’s chariot, and his body was so cold that the reins dropped from his hands, for which carelessness his father chastised him; yet he did not vindicate himself. When his father knew the circumstances, he determined to divorce his second wife; but Sun said, “Whilst mother remains, one son is cold; if mother departs, three sons will be destitute.” The father desisted from his purpose; and after this the mother was led to repentance, and became a good and virtuous parent.

The filial piety of the renowned Shun influenced Heaven, whilst that of Min renovated mankind. If Heaven be influenced, all below it will be transformed; if men be renovated, from them will spring a power able to cause their families to become good. In all ages men have exhibited a great love for their wives; but dutiful children have often met with unkindness. Min carefully concealed all his grievances, and refused to indulge in any complaint; even while suffering severely from cold and hunger, he maintained his affection unabated. During the long period which he endured this oppressive treatment, his good disposition became manifest; and by his own conduct he was able to maintain the harmony of the family unimpaired. His father and mother were influenced by his filial devotion; and his brothers joined in extolling his virtues. All his friends and acquaintances, with united voice, celebrated his merits; and the men of his native village joyfully combined to spread the fame of his actions. The memory of his agreeable countenance and pleasing manners was perpetuated to the remotest ages; and his example was in many respects like that of Shun, whose parents were equally perverse.

No. V

_He carried Rice for his Parents_

In the Chou dynasty lived Chung Yu, also a disciple of Confucius, who, because his family was poor, usually ate herbs and coarse pulse; and he also went more than a hundred li to procure rice for his parents. Afterwards, when they were dead, he went south to the country of Ch‘u, where he was made commander of a hundred companies of chariots. There he became rich, storing up grain in myriads of measures, reclining upon cushions, and eating food served to him in numerous dishes; but, sighing, he said: “Although I should now desire to eat coarse herbs and bring rice for my parents, it cannot be!”

“Alas!” said Chung Yu, “although I was a scholar, yet my parents were poor; and how was I to nourish them?” Exhausted he travelled the long road and cheerfully brought rice for his parents. Pleasantly he endured the toil, and exerted his utmost strength without any commendation. At that time his lot in life was hard and unfortunate, and he little expected the official honours he afterwards enjoyed. But when his parents were dead, and he had become rich and honourable, enjoying all the luxuries of life, then he was unhappy and discontented; not cheerful as in the days of his poverty, nor happy as when he ministered to his parents’ wants.

No. VI

_With Sports and Embroidered Robes he amused his Parents_

In the Chou dynasty there flourished Lao Lai Tzŭ, who was very obedient and reverent towards his parents, manifesting his dutifulness by exerting himself to provide them with every delicacy. Although upwards of seventy years of age, he declared that he was not yet too old, and, dressed in gaudy-coloured garments, would frisk and cut capers like a child in front of his parents. He would also take up buckets of water and try to carry them into the house; but, feigning to slip, would fall to the ground, wailing and crying like a child; and all these things he did in order to divert his parents.

In the country of Ch‘u lived Lao Lai Tzŭ, who, when so old that he had lost nearly all his teeth, made every effort to rejoice and comfort his parents, constantly endeavouring to gladden their hearts. At times he imitated the playfulness of a little child, and arraying himself in gaudy and variegated clothes, amused them by his strutting and gambols. He would likewise purposely fall on the ground, kicking and wailing to the utmost of his power. His mother was delighted, and manifested her joy in her countenance. Thus did Lai forget his age in order to rejoice the hearts of his parents; and affection, harmony, and joy prevailed among the family. If this ardent love for his parents had been insincere and constrained, how could it be referred to as worthy of imitation?

No. VII

_With Deer’s Milk he supplied his Parents_

In the time of the Chou dynasty lived Yen, who possessed a very filial disposition. His father and mother were aged, and both were afflicted with sore eyes, to cure which they desired to have some deer’s milk. Yen concealed himself in the skin of a deer, and went deep into the forests, among the herds of deer, to obtain some of their milk for his parents. While amongst the trees the hunters saw him, and were about to shoot at him with their arrows, when Yen disclosed to them his true character and related the history of his family, with the reasons for his conduct.

Do his parents desire some milk from the deer? He is not deterred by the obstacles in the way of procuring it; but clothing himself in a hairy garment, he goes carefully seeking for it among the multitudes of wild beasts. He closely imitated the cry, _yew, yew_, of the fawns, watching for the tracks of the herds. By this mode he obtained the sweet secretion; he also surprised the hunters whom he met in the deep and lonely forest.

No. VIII

_He sold himself to bury his Father_

During the Han dynasty lived Tung Yung, whose family was so very poor that when his father died, he was obliged to sell himself in order to procure money to bury his remains. After this he went to another place to gain the means of redeeming himself; and on his way he met a lady who desired to become his wife, and go with him to his master’s house. She went with Tung, and wove three hundred pieces of silk, which being completed in two months, they returned home; and on the way, having reached the shade of the cassia-tree where they met before, the lady bid him adieu and vanished from his sight.

Tung could not endure to behold his father’s bones lying exposed, but had not sufficient means to bury them. He saw that his household goods were not sufficient, and he said: “This little body of mine, what is the use of it? If I sell it, I can redeem it again, and thus bury my father, who will be saved from dishonour.” His filial piety moved Heaven to direct a female spirit in human form to come and help him in fulfilling his engagement; she wove three hundred pieces of silk, and thus procured the redemption of a man of truly filial heart.

No. IX

_He hired himself out as a Labourer to support his Mother_

In the time of the Han dynasty lived Chiang Ko, who, when young, lost his father, and afterwards lived alone with his mother. Times of trouble arising, which caused them much distress, he took his mother on his back, and fled. On the way he many times met with companies of robbers, who would have compelled him to go with them and become a bandit, but Chiang entreated them with tears to spare him, saying that he had his aged mother with him; and the robbers could not bear to kill him. Altering his course, he came into the district of Hsia-p‘ei, extremely impoverished and reduced, where he hired himself out and supported his mother; and such was his diligence that he was able to supply her with whatever she personally required.

Passing over the hills and wading through the streams, he carried his mother with much difficulty. It was during a year of famine, when all the inhabitants of the land were in confusion from the scarcity of food, and engagements were frequent between the soldiers and the bandits, and signal fires were lighted on the high hills. Chiang was fearful lest the robbers should meet him on the road and plunder him; and they did seize him, regardless of his cries and tears, and were about to rob him; but when they knew of his filial piety and affection for his mother, they permitted him to proceed. While journeying, he was too poor to procure any food beyond the bare necessaries of life; and because he could not provide comforts and delicacies for his mother, he was grieved as if it had been his fault. He went and hired himself for labour; with the greatest diligence he adhered to his purpose to maintain his mother; and soon the stranger obtained an abundance of food and clothing. This success caused his mother to rejoice, and they were both delighted, she forgetting her former hardships in the joy that filled her breast.

No. X

_He fanned the Pillow and warmed the Bedclothes_

In the Han dynasty lived Huang Hsiang, who when only nine years old lost his mother, whom he loved so ardently and remembered so well that all the villagers praised his filial duty. He was employed in the severest toil, and served his father with entire obedience. In summer, when the weather was warm, he fanned and cooled his father’s pillow and bed; and in winter, when it was cold, he warmed the bed-clothes with his body. The magistrate sent him an honorary banner, as a mark of distinction.

When the heat of summer made it difficult to sleep quietly, the lad knew what would be for the comfort of his venerated parent. Taking a fan, he slowly waved it about the silken curtains, and the cool air, entering, enveloped and filled the pillows and bed. In winter, when the snow threatened to crush in the roof and the fierce wind shook the fences, and the cold penetrated to the bones, making it hazardous to unloose the girdle, then Hsiang warmed his father’s bed that he might not fear, because of the cold, to enter the “place of dreams.”

No. XI

_The Gushing Fountain and the Frisking Carp_

In the Han dynasty lived Chiang Shih, who served his mother with perfect obedience; and his wife P‘ang also fulfilled her mother-in-law’s commands without the least reluctance. The old lady loved to drink of the water from the river six or seven li away from her cottage, and P‘ang used to go to draw it and hand it to her. She was also fond of carp, and when it was obtained, deeming herself unable to consume alone what her children with great toil and trouble continually prepared for her, usually invited some of the neighbours to feast with her. By the side of the cottage there suddenly gushed a fountain, the taste of whose waters was like that of the river, and it also produced two living fishes daily. These were taken out and prepared by Chiang Shih for his mother.

The fish from the river were fresh and delicious, and the water was sweet; the mother of Chiang Shih wished to taste of both daily. Her son went to purchase the fish and her daughter-in-law to bring the water; as constantly as the revolution of morning and evening did they exert themselves in this arduous labour. Having obtained the fish and water, her countenance brightened, and, laughing, she invited in one of the neighbours to rejoice and partake of them with her. Sitting opposite at the table, together they ate them, she foolishly not even regarding, but totally forgetting, her son and daughter, who with so much trouble had prepared them for her. Heaven took pity on these two filial children, and employed its divine power to assist them, sending a spirit to strike the earth with an axe which caused a perennial spring to bubble forth. The taste of the water from the fountain was like that from the river, and two fish continually sported about in it, which henceforth Chiang Shih took out for their sustenance, nor was there any fear of the supply failing. To procure the fish now no money was needed, to obtain the water no long and weary walk was to be taken. It was as if the productions of this river and of the water were transferred into the midst of the cottage; and Chiang Shih could support his family with ease for many years.

No. XII

_He carved Wood and served his Parents_

During the Han dynasty lived Ting Lan, whose parents both died when he was young, before he could obey and support them; and he reflected that for all the trouble and anxiety he had caused them, no recompense had yet been given. He then carved wooden images of his parents, and served them as if they had been alive. For a long time his wife would not reverence them; and one day, taking a bodkin, she pricked their fingers in derision. Blood flowed immediately from the wound; and seeing Ting coming, the images wept. He inquired into the circumstances, and forthwith divorced his wife.

He remembers his parents, but cannot see them; so he carves wood to represent their persons. He believes that their spirits are now the same as when they were alive, and his quietless heart trusts that their spirits have entered the carved images. He cannot rest until he has made their statues, so strong is his desire to nourish and reverence them. He now reveres them, although dead, as if they were alive; and hopes they will condescend to dwell in his ancestral hall.

No. XIII

_For his Mother’s Sake he would bury his Child_

In the days of the Han dynasty lived Kuo Chü, who was very poor. He had one child three years old; and such was his poverty that his mother usually divided her portion of food with this little one. Kuo says to his wife: “We are so poor that our mother cannot be supported, for the child divides with her the portion of food that belongs to her. Why not bury this child? Another child may be born to us, but a mother, once gone, will never return.” His wife did not venture to object to the proposal, and Kuo immediately digs a hole about three cubits deep, when suddenly he lights upon a pot of gold, and on the metal reads the following inscription: “Heaven bestows this treasure upon Kuo Chü, the dutiful son; the magistrate may not seize it, nor shall the neighbours take it from him.”

What a foolish action, that the sage Kuo should be willing to bury his own child! Fearing lest his mother should not have enough to eat, he is willing to resign his child to death; but when it is dead, what relief will there be for the grief of its affectionate grandmother? When a number of cares come at some future time, who then will be able to disperse them if the child is dead? But at this time the reflection that his mother would be in want filled his breast with grief, and he had no time to think of the future when he would be childless. Heaven having given him a dutiful mind, caused him to take a light hoe for digging the earth. Together Kuo and his wife went, sorrowing and distressed, by the way, until they came to a very hilly place, where they stopped. Having dug into the ground, suddenly a gleam of light shot forth, and the pot of yellow gold which Heaven had deposited there was seen. Taking it up, they clasped their child with ecstasy in their arms and returned home; for now they had sufficient to support their whole family in plenty.

No. XIV

_He seized the Tiger and saved his Father_

In the Han dynasty lived Yang Hsiang, a lad of fourteen, who was in the habit of following his father to the fields to cut grain. Once a tiger seized his father, and was slowly carrying him off, when Yang, anxious for his father and forgetting himself, although he had no iron weapon in his hand, rushed forward and seized the tiger by the neck. The beast let the prey fall from his teeth, and fled, and Yang’s father was thus saved from injury and death.

A tiger suddenly appears in the borders of the field, and seizes the man as lightly as he catches a sheep, and drags him off. Yang Hsiang, seeing the sudden peril of his father, was vexed that he had no weapon with an iron head; but being strongly excited and his feelings roused, he ran forward in the path, crying with a loud voice, and grasped the tiger by the neck. The frightened animal fled, nor stopped in its rapid course until it reached the high hills. Yang then, in a gentle manner, raised his father up and led him home, endeavouring to soothe his mind and dispel his fears, and also presented him the golden winecup. Among the great number of sages whose reputations are famous, how few of them have been devoted and filial at the hazard of their lives! But this lad, quite young and fair, as soon as he saw his father’s danger, risked his own life; surely his fame will spread throughout the country. We have heard of the lady T‘i Ying, who saved her father from banishment, and of young Chu O, who lost her life in trying to rescue her father from drowning; and I think that Yang Hsiang will form a trio with them, and the three be celebrated in the same ode.

No. XV

_He collected Mulberries to support his Mother_

During the Han dynasty lived Ts‘ai Shun, whose father died when he was young, and who served his mother very dutifully. It happened that, during the troubles of the time, when Wang Mang was plotting to usurp the throne, there were years of scarcity, in which he could not procure food, and Ts‘ai was compelled to gather mulberries, which he assorted, putting them into two vessels. The red-eyebrowed robber[5] saw him, and inquired why he did thus. Ts‘ai replied: “The black and ripe berries I give to my mother, the yellow and unripe ones I eat myself.” The bandit admired his filial affection, and rewarded him with three measures of white rice and the leg of an ox.

Anxious and fearful, he seeks for food; untiring in his toil, he takes up his baskets and penetrates the thickets of the distant forests, where he finds many mulberry-trees. His hunger now has something to satisfy its cravings; he also remembers his mother, and that he must carry some to her. The ripe and unripe berries he does not put together, but divides them, so that mother and son can each have their proper portion. The chieftain heard of his conduct, and highly praised him, conferring a gift upon him, and speaking of his filial piety to all around. Taking up his rice and flesh, Ts‘ai returned home to his mother with the food; and in their joy they even forgot that the year was one of dearth.

No. XVI

_He laid up the Oranges for his Mother_

Lu Chi, a lad six years old, who lived in the time of Han and in the district of Kinkiang, once met the celebrated general Yüan Shu, who gave him a few oranges. Two of them the lad put in his bosom, and when turning to thank the giver, they fell out on the ground. When the general saw this, he said: “Why does my young friend, who is now a guest, put the fruit away in his bosom?” The youth, bowing, replied: “My mother is very fond of oranges, and I wished, when I returned home, to present them to her.” At this answer Yüan was much astonished.

On account of his love for his parent, he would not at first taste the present of fruit, but put into his sleeve to carry home the fragrant and luscious gift. I think that when he saw his mother, her pleasant countenance must have brightened, for the fruit filled his bosom and delighted all who came near him. Lu, although so young, had the true heavenly disposition; even in the small matter of an orange he did not forget his parent’s wishes. Many children are perhaps like this boy, and those who requite their parents for the care bestowed upon them, we hope, are not few.

No. XVII

_On hearing the Thunder he wept at the Tomb_

In the country of Wei lived Wang P‘ou, a very dutiful child, whose mother, when alive, was much afraid of thunder. After her death her grave was dug in the hilly forest; and whenever it blew and rained furiously, and Wang heard the sound of the chariot of the Thunder-goddess rolling along, he hastened immediately to the grave, and, reverently kneeling, besought her with tears, saying: “I am here, dear mother; do not be alarmed.” And afterwards, whenever he read in _The Book of Odes_ this sentence, “Children should have deep and ardent affection for their parents, who have endured so much anxiety in nourishing them,” the tears flowed abundantly at the recollection of his mother.

Suddenly the black clouds arise from the wilderness, whirled by the wind; he hears the distant mutter of thunder from the southern hills. Heedless of the rain, hastily he speeds over the rugged path leading to the tomb, and as he goes round the grave his tones of grief and entreaty are heard. The roaring of the dreadful thunder affrights the ears of men, one clap following another in quick succession. If his kind mother, when alive, always dreaded the voice of Heaven’s majesty, how much more will she now, when lying alone in the depths of the wild forest! If P‘ou was with his mother, he knew she would be comforted; and he thinks that if in the green hills she has a companion, she will not be terrified. Afterwards, being successful, he refused to take the duties of an officer under the Emperor Ssŭ-ma, because he wished to go frequently to visit the grave of his parent. And when he was going and returning from it, he would weep at the recollection of his mother, and ask himself: “If I have not yet recompensed the care and trouble my mother endured for me, what more can I do?” And to this day, whenever scholars read the pages of the _Liu O_, they remember how tears bedewed the cheeks of Wang P‘ou.

No. XVIII

_He wept to the Bamboos, and Shoots sprang up_

Mêng Tsung, who lived in the Chin dynasty, lost his father when young. His mother was very ill, and one winter’s day she longed to taste a soup made of bamboo shoots, but Mêng could not procure any. At last he went into the bamboo grove, and, clasping the bamboos with his hands, wept bitterly. His filial love moved Nature, and the ground slowly opened, sending forth several shoots, which he gathered and carried home. He made a soup of them, which his mother tasted, and immediately recovered from her malady.

In winter, when the forests are unsightly and bare, and the bamboos sombre and gloomy, for plants to send forth their branches is surprising and unexpected. But it is impossible to root out the true filial nature from men who have it, although senseless and ignorant people, not understanding its power, ridicule them, calling them mad. The young Mêng Tsung dutifully served his mother, and morning and evening waited on her to receive her commands. His mother was ill, and desired the delicacy of a soup made from bamboo shoots; but in dreary winter, Nature still concealed her fruits awaited. With anxious haste he goes to the cheerless forest, which he enters, seeking for them; but not finding the shoots, he entreats the bamboos with tears. One petition from his inmost heart ascended to the threshold of heaven, and the deities were delighted, laughing with pleasure. A miracle is wrought, the ordinary course of nature is reversed, and suddenly the pearly shoots appear in the forest.

No. XIX

_He slept on Ice to procure Carp_

During the Chin dynasty lived Wang Hsiang, who early lost his mother, and whose stepmother Chu had no affection for him. His father also, hearing many evil reports against him, in course of time ceased to regard him with kindness. His mother was in the habit of eating fresh fish at her meals, but winter coming, the ice bound up the rivers. Wang unloosed his clothes, and went to sleep on the ice in order to seek them; when suddenly the ice opened of itself, and two carp leapt out, which he took up and carried to his mother. The villagers, hearing of the affair, were surprised, and admired one whose filial duty was the cause of such an unusual event.

The river is firmly bound up by ice, and the fish are hidden in their deep retreats. Perturbed and anxious, Wang goes out to seek the fish, apparently forgetting that it was winter. His resolution is fixed, and although it is at the risk of his life, he will go. He was not dismayed at the coldness of the snow, nor terrified at the fierceness of the winds. Even the wicked spirits were deterred from injuring him, and dared not molest him. If metals and stones can be opened, shall ice be considered too difficult to cleave? The frisking fish came up on the surface of the water, obedient to the hand of him who would take them out. A thousand ages cannot efface the remembrance of the crack in the ice, nor obliterate the fragrant traces of so worthy a deed.

No. XX

_Wu Mêng fed the Mosquitoes_

Wu Mêng, a lad eight years of age, who lived in the Chin dynasty, was very dutiful to his parents. They were so poor that they could not afford to furnish their beds with mosquito-curtains; and every summer night myriads of mosquitoes attacked them without restraint, feasting upon their flesh and blood. Although there were so many, yet Wu would not drive them away from himself, lest they should go to his parents and annoy them. Such was his filial affection!

The buzzing of the mosquitoes sounds like _ying, ying_, and their united hum is almost equal to thunder. His tired parents are reclining on their bed, their countenances already sunk in slumber. Legions of mosquitoes fiercely attack them, alternately retreating and advancing. The insects disturb the dreaming sleepers, and with annoyance they toss from side to side. Wu sees them sucking his parents’ blood, which causes his heart to grieve; his flesh, he thinks, can be easily pierced, but that of his parents is hard to penetrate. Lying on the bed, he threw off his clothes, and soon feeling the pain of their attacks, he cried: “I have no dread of you, nor have you any reason to fear me; although I have a fan, I will not use it, nor will I strike you with my hand. I will lie very quietly, and let you gorge to the full.”

No. XXI

This story, commemorating Yü Ch‘ien-lou of the southern Ch‘i dynasty, is best left out.

No. XXII

The same applies to this story, commemorating the Lady T‘ang of the T‘ang dynasty.

No. XXIII

_He resigned Office to seek his Mother_

In the Sung dynasty lived Chu Shou-ch‘ang, whose mother, Liu, when he was seven years of age, left the family because she was hated by his father’s wife; and mother and son did not see each other for about fifty years. It was during the reign of Shên Tsung that Chu resigned his official station and went into the Ch‘in country, and there made an engagement with his family “that he would not return until he had found his mother.” He then travelled into T‘ung-chou, where he discovered his mother, who at that time was over seventy years of age.

Thus Chu exclaimed: “I have a mother; but, alas! separated, we abide in different villages. It was not the free will of my mother which led her thus to forsake her son, but the envious mistress who compelled her to go. Without a mother, on whom shall I rely? to whom shall I pour out my sorrows and cares? Now I am grown older and have become an officer, but as yet I have been unable to return the kindness of my parent. In what place, among all the countries under heaven, does she live? I am determined to resign my office and seek her abode, not deterred from the trouble of the search. To effect it, I will part from my family and no longer be a companion with them; I will not return till I find my mother, and they need not await in expectation of me.” Heaven directed his way, and he came into T‘ung-chou, where she resided. When the mother and the son met each other, joy and grief arose together—joy for the meeting after fifty years, sorrow that they had been so long apart. But now, in one hour, all their long-accumulated griefs were laid aside, and joy and gladness filled their hearts. Chu possesses the true heavenly disposition, and honours and riches cannot destroy his affection for his mother.

No. XXIV

_He watched by his Mother’s Bedside_

In the Yüan-yu period of the Sung dynasty, Huang T‘ing-chien filled the office of prefect. He was of a very filial disposition, and although honourable and renowned, yet he received his mother’s commands with the utmost deference. When his mother was seized with illness, he watched her for a whole year without leaving her bedside or even taking off his clothes; and at her death he mourned so bitterly that he himself fell ill and nearly lost his life.

Well-written poetry flows along like rills meandering among the hills and valleys. This instance of a dutiful heart has not as yet been brought into much notice. For a whole year he tended his parent in her illness; and both she who dwelt in the curtained room (_i.e._ his mother) and he who remained in the hall (_i.e._ his father) strove to express the merits of their son. It would be difficult to find another child who would have done so—all would be dilatory and unwilling; and where shall we meet another who would undergo such drudgery himself with keenness and pleasure? Although raised to high office, he does not hesitate to perform the most troublesome and minute duties, for he loves his parents; how then can we suppose that he will change from what he was when young and unhonoured?

_Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury._

FOOTNOTES:

[5] That is, the usurper Wang Mang himself.