"On a slow fire set a tripod, whose colour and texture shew its long use; fill it with clear snow water, boil it as long as would be necessary to turn fish white, and crayfish red; throw it upon the delicate leaves of choice tea, in a cup of yooé (a particular sort of porcelain). Let it remain as long as the vapour rises in a cloud, and leaves only a thin mist floating on the surface. At your ease, drink this precious liquor, which will chase away the five causes of trouble. We can taste and feel, but not describe, the state of repose produced by a liquor thus prepared."
He wrote, likewise, a long descriptive poem on the city and country of Moukden, in Mantchoo Tartary, which has been translated by some of the missionaries, and appears to possess much more merit than his ode on tea, of which, however, it is difficult to judge without a thorough knowledge of the language, as the ode may owe its chief beauties and its fame more to the choice of the characters than to the sounds, literal sense, or versification. To an European the Chinese language appears to have few elegancies: it wants all the little auxiliaries that add grace and energy to those of Europe. In the Chinese the beauty of an expression depends entirely on the choice of the character, and not on any selection or arrangement of the monosyllabic sounds. A character uniting a happy association of ideas has the same effect upon the eye of the Chinese, as a general theorem expressed in symbols has on a mathematician; but in both cases a man must be learned to feel the beauties of the concise expression. Even in speaking the language has few expletives. "English good, Chinese better,"—"to-day go, to-morrow come,"—"sea no bound, Kiang no bottom;"—"well, not well;"—are modes of expression in which an European will not find much elegance.
In addition to the defects of the language, there is another reason why poetry is not likely ever to become a favourite pursuit, or to be cultivated with success, among the Chinese. The state of society we have seen to be such as entirely to exclude the passion of love. A man, in this country, marries only from necessity, or for the sake of obtaining an heir to his property, who may sacrifice to his manes, or because the maxims of the government have made it disgraceful to remain in a state of celibacy. The fine sentiments that arise from the mutual endearment of two persons enamoured of each other can therefore have no place in the heart of a Chinese: and it is to the effusions of a heart thus circumstanced, that poetry owes some of its greatest charms. Nor can they be considered as a nation of warriors; and war, next to love, has ever been the favourite theme of the muses.
The language is much better adapted to the concise style of ethics, than the sublime flights of poetry. The moral precepts of Cong-foo-tse display an excellent mind in the writer, and would do honour to any age and nation. The following will serve as a specimen of his subjects, style, and manner.
"There is one clear rule of conduct: to act with sincerity; and to conform with all one's soul, and with all one's strength, to this universal rule—do not any thing to another, that you would not wish another should do to you."
How conformable is this sentiment as well as the words in which it is expressed, to that of the great Author of our religion; a religion whose "ways are ways of pleasantness, and all whose paths are peace."
"Five things ought to be well observed in the world: Justice between the prince and the subject; affection between father and son; fidelity between man and wife; subordination among brothers; concord among friends."
"There are three radical virtues: prudence to discern; universal benevolence to embrace (all mankind); courage to sustain."
"What passes in a man's mind is unknown to others: if you are wise, take great care of what none but yourself can see."
"Examples are better for the people than precepts."