A Chinese doctor whose opinion I was one day asking with regard to this very question, assured me that in his medical practice he had found the men invariably opposed to the spending of money on their wives when they were ill. “I was on one occasion,” he said, “attending a country-woman for some complaint. It was not a serious case, but it was such that if no remedy had been applied, it might have grown into one that would have caused her considerable inconvenience. I sent in my bill to the husband for my attendance and for the medicines I had supplied, but he refused to pay. It only came to forty cash (about a penny), but he declared that he had not called me in, and therefore he would not accept my account. The woman I knew had no money, and so I told her I would not charge her.”
The Chinese family is supposed to be bound together by a virtue that is unique in China, and which has never been looked upon with the same reverence by any other country in the world as in it. I refer to filial piety. There is no question but that this as an ideal virtue has been held up before the nation during the whole length of its existence. Confucius immortalized the subject by writing a book on it, and though it is wanting in the nerve and vigour of his other classical works, because it is from his pen it has through successive generations exercised a marvellous influence in keeping up the national belief in this virtue amongst all classes of society, from the Emperor on the throne down to the poorest beggar that sits with sore legs and tattered garments by the roadside, though his own parents perhaps years ago drove him on to the streets, and because of his badness refused to recognize him as their son.
The utterance of the word “Hsiau,” has an electrical effect upon any Chinaman in whose hearing it is mentioned. The ordinary citizen will discourse with you by the hour upon its beauties, and he will enlarge upon the excellence and nobility of the children that carry it out in ordinary life, especially when great obstacles exist in the performance of it. The man upon whose face profligate is plainly written with the pen of whisky and opium hears the word “Hsiau,” and a softened look passes over it, and his eyes lose their hardness, and any goodness that lay in his heart is for the moment supreme. In fact, I have never yet met any one, scoundrel or honest man, who has not been moved more or less by the mention of this universally reverenced virtue.
Next in importance to the brochure of Confucius on filial piety is a book quite as widely known, which is entitled The Twenty-four Examples of Filial Piety. A brief account of twenty-four famous instances of devotion to parents under various trying circumstances are given, and these are printed age after age, and read eagerly by the people.
They are certainly most amusing reading, and they give the impression that whatever other qualities the Chinaman may possess, he is endowed with a strain of romance and poetry that explains how popular he can be when he lets himself go. One story tells of a man who was looked upon as a model for filial piety. His family consisted of his mother, himself and wife, and a little infant son. Quite unexpectedly his mother falls dangerously ill and is unable to eat any food. Distressed beyond measure at this, and fearing lest she should die, he kills his child, and the milk that his wife used to give to the little one is now absorbed by the sick mother.
This deed is evidently so pleasing to Heaven, that whilst he is digging a grave in which to bury his murdered child, he suddenly comes upon a bar of gold, which he at once accepts as a special present to himself for his filial piety. Whilst he is congratulating himself on the good fortune that has befallen him, he hears a cry from the mat in which he had wrapped his son, and to his delight he finds that he has come to life again, without any of the marks upon him to show the brutal treatment he had received from his father. Returning home with the gold and the baby in his arms, a fresh delightful surprise awaits him, for his mother comes to the door to meet him, perfectly restored to health—another special favour from Heaven to reward him for his devotion to her.
Another of these twenty-four is a young lad, who acts in such a way as to excite the admiration of all who read his story. His mother had died and his father married a second wife, who was exceedingly unkind to him. She had a son of her own by a previous marriage, upon whom she lavished all the love of her heart. After years of ill-treatment, his father one day quite unexpectedly discovers the true state of the case, when he is so enraged that he drives his wife and her beloved son from his home, and he declares that he will never have anything more to do with them.
It is at this juncture that the filial piety that has immortalized the young fellow’s name is conspicuously manifested. He so pleads with his father to forgive his stepmother that he is permitted to go and bring her home again, though he is quite conscious that her return means sorrow to himself.
AN OLD LADY.