CHAPTER XVI.

THE CHINESE THEATRE AND DANCES.

Although the Chinese are passionately fond of plays, yet they do not possess a good fixed theatre in their chief cities; for those edifices which are regularly used for this purpose are never of a good class, and many of them are even considered disreputable. The cream of the theatrical troupes are reserved for private entertainments; when a number of people of the middle class desire a comedy, they club together and engage a troupe. The upper classes, as already stated, have always their private comedy company. They have also their private halls for dramatic representations.

The Chinese, have like ourselves, Comedies, Tragedies, Farces, Ballets, etc., and the music attached to them is always of the style of the play. There is an excellent description of the ceremonies and social etiquette used at a private dramatic entertainment, given by Du Halde.[130] He says, ... “It was then, four or five of the principal comedians were seen entering the hall, in rich costumes; they made a profound bow all together, and struck the earth four times with their forehead.... They arose and their chief addressing one of the principal guests, presented to him a book composed of long tablets, on which were written, in golden letters, the names of fifty or sixty comedies, which they knew by heart, and any of which they were ready to perform on the spot if desired; from this book they begged the guest to make a choice. The guest excused himself and handed the volume politely to a second guest, with a sign of invitation; the second guest passed it to the third with the same ceremonies, the third to the fourth, etc. All excused themselves, and finally the book was returned to the comedian, who yielded at last, opened the book, and ran his eye over the list a moment, and then decided upon a comedy which he thought would prove agreeable to all the company. Should there be any inconvenience in producing any particular play, the comedian-in-chief is expected to announce it; one of these inconveniences would be, for example, that one of the chief characters of the play bore a name similar to that of one of the guests. After the choice the comedian shows to the guests the name of the play which he has chosen, and each one signifies by a nod of the head, his approval. The representation begins with some music which is essentially Chinese and noisy. It is performed with metal basins, drums, flutes, fifes, and trumpets. The play is often performed at a banquet, and after the guests have finished their meal, the comedians take their places at the table; after a short refreshment the guests are recalled and the play proceeded with, or a new farce is chosen and performed as dessert.”

Many of the plays are not destitute of poetry and plot. It may not be uninteresting to give a short sketch of the style of incidents woven into their plays by Chinese authors.

The following is an outline of the plot of a play performed before the English embassy, Lord Macartney’s, in the latter part of the last century; it was given in a private theatre, by a private troupe.

“An emperor of China and his empress are living in supreme felicity, when on a sudden his subjects revolt. A civil war ensues, battles are fought; and at last, the arch-rebel, who is a general of cavalry, overcomes his sovereign, kills him with his own hand, and routs the imperial army.

The captive empress then appears upon the stage, in all the agonies of despair, naturally resulting from the loss of her husband, and her dignity, as well as the apprehension of that of her honor. Whilst she is tearing her hair, and rending the skies with her complaints, the conqueror enters, approaches her with respect, addresses her in a gentle tone, soothes her sorrows with his compassion, talks of love and adoration, and like Richard the Third with Lady Anne, in Shakespeare, prevails, in less than half an hour, on the Chinese princess to dry up her tears, to forget her deceased consort, and to yield to a consoling wooer. The piece concludes with a wedding and a grand procession.”[131]

Engel, who quotes the above plot, well says[132] “how interesting would it be to the student of national music, to possess an exact notation of the music belonging to this scene ‘(the empress complaints)’ and to ascertain in what manner the intense emotions and vehement passions represented are expressed in the Chinese musical compositions.”

The above plot is curious in its Shakespearian resemblance, and seems to be a drama of the superior order, for Lord Macartney was shown the highest and best side of Chinese life and art; the comedies of the people are less refined and of broader touches. We give as companion piece to the above, a comedy plot which is a favorite one with Chinese authors as well as the public.

The emperor Vouti, having lost one of his wives, whom he tenderly loved, had recourse to a celebrated magician, who assured him that his spouse was not dead as supposed, for she had bought of him the elixir of immortality; she still existed, but lived chiefly in the moon from whence the magician promised he could cause her to descend as often as desired. The emperor caused to be erected, under the superintendence of the magician, a very high tower, to facilitate her descent; he also often assisted at the incantations of the wizard, but as the fair immortal did not respond, the imposter, fearing the anger of his royal master, invented a new stratagem to avert this unpleasant conclusion. He wrote upon a piece of silk a counterfeit letter from the dear defunct giving various pretended reasons as to why she could not return personally to the royal lover; this letter is given by the sorcerer to a cow, who is then led by him to the emperor to whom he confesses that some involuntary crime has, for the present, interrupted his intercourse and influence with the immortal beings, but that in the stomach of the cow he has perceived something; Vouti commands that the animal be opened on the spot, and the silken message is discovered; the magician is already enjoying his triumph when it is perceived that the characters of the communication are in his own handwriting. He is at once condemned to death, and the emperor thenceforth renounces magicians, immortal elixirs, etc., etc.[133]

It is well known that the Chinese often give, on the stage, a representation of the life of the hero of the play from early infancy (sometimes even _from birth_) to death, and these representations last weeks in their performance; every action being done deliberately; for example, if a performer smokes a pipe, he does not give a whiff or two and then go on with the action, but calmly and placidly smokes it out to the last puff.

Fairy spectacles, the Chinese also possess, in which Genii appear and disappear, as well as birds and beasts endowed with the power of speech. Their farces are of a much broader character, and often in these, the clownish, awkward character is a European or an American; they heartily enjoy all his mishaps, even his manner of lifting his hat and bowing, being held up to ridicule; it is very much the same kind of pleasure as we “western barbarians” enjoy in seeing such farces as “_Ici on parle Francais_” or “The Perplexed Dutchman,” where the habits of a Frenchman, and German, are the mirth-provoking element; or of a piece with the character of Sir Hugh Evans and Dr. Caius, in Shakespeare’s “Merry Wives of Windsor.”

There is another point of resemblance in Shakespeare, to the Chinese drama: his following of the life of Henry VI. so closely and extensively (through three parts) suggests the more extensive life-history-dramas of the celestial empire. But the Chinese also give the “outside barbarians” a thrust, _au serieux_; for in their plays the devil often appears, dressed as a European.

In the music of their dramas, the Chinese are decidedly Wagnerian, for not only do they use a great many loud instruments (chiefly of percussion) but they illustrate with them the action of the drama; when an actor enters into a combat at arms, the orchestra pound away at their instruments with redoubled vigor. The characters often sing long _arias_ to the accompaniment of these voice-drowning instruments.[134] There is much spoken action as well as song in these dramas, which therefore approach more nearly to our _vaudevilles_ than any thing else.

Choruses are few in Chinese pieces, but sometimes the air is sung by many voices, in order to emphasize it, and make it more plainly perceptible above the racket of the orchestra.

The Chinese have also many tragedies and comedies wherein no music whatever is employed. The actors in these, assuming the ordinary conversational tone.

Conjugal infelicity and infidelity, form a staple plot with these, and the same inappropriate and ludicrous entering into detail is apparent in them.[135]

Movable scenes are not used, and the most infantile devices are used when a rapid change is necessary; a general having to depart on a distant expedition, mounts a hobby horse, or even a cane, and using a small whip with one hand, imitates riding, (three or four times around the theatre being sufficient) and then, announcing that he has arrived at his destination, goes on with his speeches without any embarrassment. This is but one example of the many where the dramatists draw heavily upon the imagination of their audiences.

The actor on entering (in the play) begins by announcing his name and telling the audience why and wherefore he has come; this is done to simplify the following of the action, as in some dramas there are hosts of characters and one player often assumes many _roles_.

Such puerility is caused partly by the small size of the stages, which would not admit a host of performers, and partly by the fact that many of the characters in a Chinese play are comparatively unimportant, appearing once, and then vanishing forever; in fact at the end of some of the Chinese dramas, one is considerably mystified as to the fate of many of the characters, as the author, unlike the European and American dramatists, who make everybody (except the villain) happy in the last act, only deems it necessary to follow out closely the career of his hero and heroine, and they being once dead, the other characters are allowed to wind up in a very sudden and, to us, very unsatisfactory manner. The musical part of these dramas is often quite long, and whenever the actor desires to express much feeling, he falls into music. Sometimes it is introduced in a most unnatural manner; in one tragedy, a wife having murdered her husband is sentenced to be _flayed alive_; after the execution of the sentence, she returns to the stage wholly bereft of her skin, (this is depicted with true Chinese realistic effect, the body of the performer being painted in exact imitation of nature in such a hideous plight) and she then and there sings a song to excite the pity of the infernal spirits. The song is full of screeches and howls, and lasts half an hour.[136] Let us not be too hasty in smiling at such absurd stage effects; there is an opera still performed on our own stage, where an innocent Jewess is boiled in oil, as _finale_, and as to the inappropriateness of a long song, under such circumstances, there is a long chorus in a French opera of the last century, where the mayor of the village having fallen into the water, the anxious choristers sing for many minutes, that “he will he drowned unless he is speedily helped out;” decidedly we must not smile too broadly at the Chinese, as yet.

Sir John Barrow[137] speaks of the theatre, which he visited, as a mere “Shed of Bamboo.” He says: “In the farther division of the building, a party of comedians were engaged in the midst of an historical drama, when we entered; but on our being seated they broke off, and coming forward, made before us an obeisance of nine genuflexions and prostrations, after which they returned to their labors, keeping up an incessant noise and bustle during our stay. The heat of the day, the thermometer standing at eighty-one degrees, in the open air, and at least ten degrees higher in the building, the crowds that thronged to see the strangers [this was in 1792, when Europeans were great rarities in China] the horrible crash of the gongs, kettle drums, trumpets, and squalling flutes, were so stunning and oppressive that nothing but the novelty of the scene could possibly have detained us a moment.”

“The most entertaining, as well as the least noisy part of the theatrical exhibition, was a sort of interlude, performed by three young women, for the amusement it would seem of the principal actress, who sat as a spectator, in the dress and character of some ancient queen, whilst an old eunuch, very whimsically dressed, played his antic tricks like a scaramouch, or buffoon in a Harlequin entertainment.”

“The dialogue in this part, differed entirely from the querulous and nearly monotonous recitation of the Chinese, being light and comic, and occasionally interrupted by cheerful airs, which generally concluded with a chorus. These airs rude and unpolished as they were, appeared to be regular compositions, and were sung in exactly measured time. One in particular attracted our attention, whose slow, melancholy movement breathed the kind of plaintiveness so peculiar to the native airs of the Scotch, to which indeed it bore a close resemblance.” [We have before spoken of this resemblance, which proceeds from both scales, Chinese and Scotch, being pentatonic, or five toned.] “The voices of the women are shrill and warbling, but some of their cadences were not without melody. The instruments at each pause gave a few short flourishes, till the music gradually increased in loudness by the swelling and deafening gong. Knowing nothing of the language we were of course as ignorant of the subject as the majority of an English audience is at an Italian opera.” Thus speaks Barrow of his first impressions of a Chinese theatre, but he probably fell into two errors; the _women_, whom he mentions were in all likelihood, eunuchs; and the theatre itself, being public, was of inferior style to those private establishments which are the pride of the rich mandarin class.

It is singular, however, that the noise of the gong, tamtam, trumpet, etc., are inseparable from all Chinese dramatic performances: although the noise is deafening, and the voices of the actors are sometimes drowned in spite of their shouting themselves hoarse, yet this pandemonium only gives tranquil delight to the Chinese spectator whether he be of high or low class. It is so extraordinary a fact that physiologists and anatomists have endeavored to prove that the cause is due to a peculiar formation of the Chinese ear.[138]

Certain it is that the Chinese are so passionately fond of the drama, that they will sometimes pass many hours in succession in this noisy entertainment.

There is a tremendous number of comedians in China; most of them are purchased in early infancy by the chiefs of troupes, and by them trained in music, singing, declamation, pantomime, and dance. It is a species of slavery, not very unlike that of old Rome, but is not always life-long.

Some comedians, especially the chiefs, acquire large fortunes in the exercise of their calling, but the caste is so looked down upon, by the general public, and the facility of confiscating their fortune is so great, that they seldom attempt to leave the profession, or make any display of their wealth, lest it should be seized under any pretext by some mandarin, in which case (in spite of the theoretical justice of China) it would probably be beyond recovery.[139]

We may mention here, a peculiar mode of paying actors, in Cochin China.

The occasion described is an entertainment, the expenses of which were borne by the Quong, or provincial governor. An Englishman who was present, thus speaks of the affair,—“The Quong was there squatted on a raised platform in front of the actors, with a small drum before him, supported in a diagonal position, on which he would strike a tap every time any part of the performance pleased him; which was also a signal for his purse bearer to show a small string of about twenty _cash_ to the actors. To my taste this spoiled the effect of the piece; for every time the _cash_ fell among them, there would be a silence, and the next moment a scramble for the money; and it fell so frequently as almost to keep time with the discordant music of the orchestra.

The actors were engaged by the day, and in this manner received their payment, the amount of which depended upon the approbation of the _Quong_, and the number of times he encored them by tapping his drum. I could see that many of them paid far more attention to the drum than they did to their performance; though I suppose the amount thrown to them is equally divided. Sometimes the string on which the _cash_ was tied, unluckily broke, and the money flew in all directions; by which some of the by-standers profited, not being honorable enough to hand it up to the poor actors.[140]

This was a public performance and took place in a large shed, before a numerous audience. Often the theatrical performances are allowed to take place in the Joss-houses or houses of worship, the _bonzes_ or priests being wise enough not to offer any obstacles to a mode of amusement so thoroughly loved and appreciated by all the Chinese.

It is somewhat singular, and yet in keeping with the custom of the most ancient nations, that the Chinese should at the same time enjoy the drama so keenly, and despise the performers of it. The comedians are kept as thoroughly within their caste as musicians were in Egypt, four thousand years ago. Parents in China have almost unlimited power over their children (filial love and obedience is the highest of Chinese virtues,) they may sell them as slaves, or in some instances kill them, but they are not allowed to sell them to the troupes of strolling comedians, or to magicians. Any person so selling them is punished with one hundred blows of the bamboo, and any go-between or middle-man, in such transactions, receives a similar dose; any person of free parentage, marrying an actor or actress, is punished in the same manner, in spite of the precedent of several emperors. The crime of intimacy with actresses is punishable with sixty blows, but this is easily eluded, and the law seems to be obsolete. This punishment is not attended with much infamy; the bastinado is in fact the lightest of Chinese punishments. When the number of blows does not exceed twenty, there is no disgrace whatever attached to the infliction: it is then considered only a paternal chastisement; the emperor himself often orders this correction to be administered to high officials for slight faults, and afterwards treats them as if nothing had happened. After such paternal punishment is inflicted, the victim goes on his knees to the judge, bows his head three times to the earth, and _thanks him_ for the care he has given to the education of his subject.[141]

It is significant that the “State Gazette” of Pekin, which will often enter into details concerning the death of a private soldier, and give eulogies to the military valor of the most humble, does not even mention the decease of the most brilliant and well-known comedian, no matter how much applause may have been accorded to him while living.

In such a country as China, it is easily imagined that there exists a large troupe of “comedians to the emperor.” These although not more superbly costumed than those of some rich mandarins, are clothed in a peculiar manner. Of course it would not be allowable to turn their backs upon the emperor, and yet often the action of the play, might demand that they turn around. This dilemma is overcome by allowing them to wear two masks, one on the face, the other at the back of their head, and thus, Janus-like, they can always face the emperor. Their clothing is in consequence different from that of ordinary actors, having two fronts and no back.[142]

The _corps_ of singers, declaimers and musicians of all kinds belonging to the Imperial court, is of course very large.

The dances of China, are as with all Eastern or ancient nations, purely pantomimical, there are few pirouettes and skips as in our _ballet_. The names and subjects of some of the earlier dancers, will show this conclusively; “The labors of Agriculture,” “Joys of the Harvest,” “The fatigues of War,” “The pleasures of Peace,” “The skill of Hunting,” etc. These all show a primitive style of the art, and are not far removed from the dances we shall find in vogue among the most crude children of nature, such as the Australians, the Bushmen, or the Tasmanians. The Chinese possess (as did the Egyptians) a number of gymnastic performances similar to our clog, ballet, and comic dances, but these come a long way after the dance proper, in the estimation of the people; the word _ou_ which signifies dance, does not apply to them. We cannot be surprised if from earliest times the regulation of the dance has been a matter of State legislation.

The ancient emperor was allowed eight dances, with eight performers to each, his full troupe containing sixty-four members. Kings of Provinces had six dances of six performers, thirty-six in all; and thus through all the upper ranks, literary doctors being allowed only two dances of two performers each. Only certain instruments were allowed as accompaniment, and the direction of the whole was always to be in charge of various musical doctors. There also existed dances which were called “little dances,” as they were taught to children at a tender age; the names of some of these are interesting; “the Dance of the Flag,” danced in honor of the spirits of earth and the harvests, so called because the dancers waved small banners; “The Dance of the Plumes,” in honor of the spirits of the four quarters of the world, in which the young dancers carried a plume of white feathers, attached to a short stick; “The Dance of the Foang-hoang,” which was danced to induce the assistance of the mysterious bird (already described) in times of drought, and in which the dancers held plumes of feathers of five colors; “the Dance of the Ox Tail,” in which each dancer swings an ox tail; “The Dance of Javelins,” where this weapon was brandished in honor of river and mountain spirits; and finally, “the Dance of Man,” in which the hands were quite free, no accessories being used.

The “Javelin Dance,” was not altogether pleasing to the great philosopher Confucius. He condemns it as being too war-like, and the gestures accompanying it, as too savage; as a whole he thought it liable to inspire cruel sentiments. He preferred the “Dance of the Plumes,” as containing all the chief elements of the “Javelin Dance” without tendency to cruelty. In the palace, the sons of the emperor only, were permitted to the “Dance of the Plumes.”

At the epoch, when these dances were at their zenith, the emperors had a peculiar way of showing by them their approbation, or condemnation of their viceroys. When the viceroy was presented at court, if his administration seemed good to the emperor, he was welcomed by numerous and lengthy dances; if, on the contrary his government seemed worthy of censure, the dances were both short and few.

The following were the customs observed in presenting them:—Long before the dance began, a drum was sounded “to dispel from the minds of the spectators any thoughts unsuited to the occasion.” On the arrival of the performers, they took three steps forward and put themselves in an attitude, calculated to impress the beholders; a sort of _tableau vivant_. The entrance was always accompanied with a slow movement of the music, which gradually augmented both in speed and volume, until the _finale_, when the climax having been reached, the music had attained a presto movement, and the dancers retired with precipitation in order that the interest might not have time to flag.

Sometimes the dancers carried a small shield with bell attached.

The Chinese sages deeply regret the loss of these ancient dances; (for like all excellent customs the modern writers claim that they were at their best in “the good old times,”) it seems that the ancient Chinese, endeavored in the dance, to reproduce an easily-comprehended allegory of the natural actions of men; the movements, gestures, attitudes, and evolutions, all to be natural and easily understood by the spectators. Since the days of Confucius, this simple style of dancing has fallen greatly to decay.

In those days many of the emperors of China studied and understood the art of dancing. History shows many such “Davids” (although not so well known as Israel’s royal dancer) in the dynasties of the empire. Autumn was the favorite season for the study of dancing, as the “feast of ancestors” takes place in the Spring, and the pupils were ready to exhibit their proficiency at that great event. The ancient practice of imperial dancing, was continued even as recently as 1719, when one of the sons of Kang-hi, of the age of twenty, performed before the emperor and his court. There are also mandarins whose duty it is to dance before the emperor; the pantomime of these is especially graceful and dignified. They advance slowly two by two, their limbs and bodies moving gently to the time of a tranquil music; they turn around without quitting their relative positions, and after a series of gestures made in perfect unison, and some symmetrical evolutions, they make the salute of honor, and retire. This dance seems to be only a formal expression of homage to the emperor. The dress of these officials is uniform, and elegant, fine silk capes, caps, etc., the only difference of costume being the buttons, with which the top of the caps are ornamented; the different color of these being indicative of greater or lesser rank. This _corps_ of dancers is recruited from the wealthiest and greatest families of the empire.

In the dances, every detail is strictly systemized and observed; the very positions are calculated according to the points of the compass; thus one dancer is always placed at the north-west, another at the north-east, the entrance is to be made from a fixed cardinal point, the exit at another; all is rule and precision.

The number of dancers is not at present limited to that given above (sixty-four for the emperor, thirty-six for viceroys, etc.) as the ancient standard. At times of great festivity, the dancers of the Imperial court are reckoned by hundreds. Such _grandes ballets_, are almost always symmetrical and in concerted movements; but there are also _solo_ dances; in these _pas seuls_ the dancer often accompanies himself with both song and instrument. This proves how slow and majestic the motions must be.

In dances, females very often appear, but in private only. Mandarins frequently own female dancers and singers, whose performances are reserved for their own families. It is but rarely, and as a mark of especial honor, that they allow some intimate friend to view the dancing of these slaves.

Spectacular pantomimes, such as delight the theatre-goers at Christmas time in Europe and America, find also a congenial atmosphere in China; a most beautiful one was performed in the presence of the emperor, and Lord Macartney, in 1793. In this representation the object seemed to be, to illustrate upon the stage, the wonders and fertility of the world, or an allegory of the intermarriage of earth and ocean. The earth gave forth in this pantomime, a large number of its animals, and products; elephants, tigers, dragons, ostriches and eagles, as well as oaks, pines, bamboos, and other specimens of vegetation appeared upon the stage; while upon a lower stage, the ocean sent forth whales, dolphins, porpoises, and also vessels, rocks, weeds, sponges, and coral. Each of these creations was true to life, and in many of them were concealed actors who represented the motions and habits of the animals in a manner quite natural. After these products of earth and sea had performed several evolutions separately, each division moving in a separate circle, all united and came to the front of the stage, where a farther series of movements was enacted; suddenly the entire mass of actors divided, moving swiftly to the right and left in order to give place to the whale, who seemed a sort of commander in chief. This immense fish then advanced to the front of the stage, opposite the box in which the emperor was seated; on arriving here, he lifted his head and spurted an enormous mass of water, amounting to many barrels full, into the pit of the theatre; where (holes having been bored to receive it) it swiftly disappeared.[143]

This performance seemed to give the greatest delight to the Chinese part of the audience. The music attached to this spectacle, was as usual of the most deafening character.

Of the lower order of dances, such as tumbling, harlequinades, etc., the Chinese have a vast variety; even puppet shows (_marionettes_) are greatly used by them, and plays with simple plots, very skilfully given by their means. This is the story represented at one of them;—An unfortunate princess is kept prisoner in a castle surrounded by dragons: to her comes a bold warrior, who after many combats with dragons, wild beasts and other horrible creations, succeeds in killing, vanquishing and dispersing them. He is recompensed by receiving the hand of the grateful princess, and the whole concludes with processions, tournaments and other festivities.[144]

As to the musical part of all these lesser performances, it is nearly always present, and ever of the peculiar style which has filled every traveller (so far as we know _without exception_), with utter distaste. The juggling performances, of which there are many, both public and private, are accompanied throughout with the above described orchestra. Feats of skill, performed by troupes of children are especially admired by the Chinese, and much sought for. The children begin their training in these arts, very young.

Boat races have also their music, which is evidently intended to inspirit the oarsmen. The following is a description of such an event, (so far as it relates to music).

“On each side of the little mast that supports the national flag, are two men, who leave off striking the tum-tum, and executing rolls upon the drum, whilst the mariners leaning over their oars, row on vigorously, and make the dragon junk, skim rapidly over the water.

Whilst these elegant boats are contending with each other, the people throng the quays, the shore and the roofs.... They animate the rowers with their cries and plaudits; they let off fireworks; they perform at various points, deafening music, in which the sonorous noise of the tum-tum, and the sharp sound of a sort of a clarinet, giving perpetually the same note, predominate over all the rest. The Chinese relish this infernal harmony.”[145]

We have dwelt with some detail upon the music of the Chinese, for we consider these people, musically as well as ethnologically and philologically a series of contradictions, and especially differing from all our conceived notions of right and propriety: a nation where music is heartily loved, and taught to youth,[146] and yet where musical progress is almost unknown; where goodness and love are taught in the most beautiful writings, and where greater cruelties are practised than anywhere else on earth. They differ from us on almost every point. We mourn in black, they in white; we respect crowns as badges of honor, they the boots; we build solid walls, they make them hollow; we pull a boat, they push it; we place the orchestra in front of the stage; they behind it; with us children fly kites, with them, men; we scratch the head when puzzled, they, the antipodes of it, etc, etc.[147]

A nation so strange cannot be judged flippantly or speedily; only a short time since we held the Japanese in the rank of the semi-civilized; now they are making giant strides on the highway of progress. Who dare say that the Chinese may not yet experience a similar awakening? At present their heaviest drawbacks, in music, as well as in all civilization, seem to be, a senseless clinging to ancient usages; an education of the head, and not of the heart; an etiquette which becomes both ludicrous and burdensome in its requirements;[148] a totally false position of woman; and a theoretically competitive, but practically corrupt public service. There have recently been unmistakeable signs of progress, and, once begun, it is more than probable that the reform will be thorough and swift as it has thus far been with their neighbors. In such case, China will be of far higher interest to the world than she has been to us in our describing her as—a curiosity shop.