Chapter XIII: Fables and Proverbial Lore (3)

The first words heard after making a resolution are supposed in China to be ominous. Thus, if a man who has decided to do a certain thing—say, for instance, recover a debt—hears the first person he meets say mei-yu or m’hai (according to the dialect he speaks) he will defer his visit. No Chinaman will open a shop, marry a wife, or engage in any important undertaking without casting lots to see if the fates are propitious. [65] The method of carrying this out is as follows: Each temple in China has belonging to it about a hundred stanzas of poetry relating to a variety of subjects; each stanza is numbered and printed on a separate piece of paper; in addition to this, there are a quantity of lots made of bamboo slips about eight inches long, corresponding to the number of stanzas, and referring to them by number. The individual who wishes to make application to the god presents himself before his image on his knees, and after performing the ko-tow by touching the ground with his head nine times, states his name and residence, the object of his inquiries, and whether on his own or another’s account. He then takes a bamboo tube containing the lots, and shakes it gently before the idol until a slip falls to the ground. He then rises from his knees and picks up this slip, and places it so that the god can see the number of the lot written on it; he then takes two pieces of wood, each having a round and a flat side. After passing these through the incense, he tosses them into the air before the idol; if they fall so that both round sides are uppermost, the answer is negative and everything is unpropitious; if they fall with one round and one flat side up, the answer is in the affirmative, and the man may go on his way rejoicing. [66]

A belief in what we term lucky numbers pervades the whole arcana of Chinese life and literature. Mr. Mayers, in the introduction to his admirable Chinese Reader’s Manual, says: “In obedience it would seem to an impulse the influence of which is distinctly marked in the literary traditions of the Chaldeans, the Hebrews, and the Hindoos, a doctrine of the hidden properties and harmonies of numbers imbues the earliest recorded expression of Chinese belief. So also, it may be remarked, in the teachings of Pythagoras an abstract theory of number was expounded as underlying the whole system of existence, whence the philosophy of the western would become tinged with conceptions strongly resembling those which still prevail on the same subject in the Chinese mind.” Mr. Mayers has here indicated the common source of many of those vulgar beliefs now known as mere folk-lore; and humble as that is in comparison with the more pretentious philosophy which he has so skilfully elucidated, it is not wholly without interest. It would seem that the popular saying “There is luck in odd numbers” meets with as much belief in China as in England. I have already noted the fact that the number 3 is, with an odd exception relating to marriage ceremonies, deemed auspicious. Thus they speak of the 3 decades of heat, the 3 powers united in nature (tʻien, yang and yin), the 3 systems of doctrine, the 3 forms of obedience, the 3 mental qualifications, the 3 powers of nature (heaven, earth and man), and so on, to say nothing of the phrases in which the same number is pressed into service to express real or assumed historical, geographical, and other facts, such as the “3 kingdoms,” the “3 armies,” the “3 rivers,” the “3 heroes,” &c. [67] Mr. Mayers’s exhaustive “Numerical Categories,” give the following number of current phrases under the first ten numerals.

Under number 2 9 phrases.
,, ,, 3 68 ,,
,, ,, 4 40 ,,
,, ,, 5 63 ,,
,, ,, 6 38 ,,
,, ,, 7 18 ,,
,, ,, 8 25 ,,
,, ,, 9 30 ,,
,, ,, 10 12 ,,

Many of these have of course a reference to popular superstitions. Five and Seven appear to be the favourite numbers in this respect. All the forces and phenomena of nature are based upon the number five:—we have therefore, Five active organs: the stomach, the lungs, the liver, the heart, and the kidneys. Five colours: Yellow, White, Green, Red, Black. Five varieties of taste: Sweet, Acrid, Sour, Bitter, Salt. Five elements: Earth, Metal, Wood, Fire, Water. Five planets: Saturn, Venus, Jupiter, Mars, Mercury. Five regions of heaven: Centre, West, East, South, North. And so on throughout nature. And similarly as sounds belong to the phenomena of nature, there must be five of them. It does not appear that any particular virtue has ever been held to reside in the number five amongst ourselves. The number seven, however, is as portentous in China as in the Western world. Besides the Sabbathaical use of the number, it enters so largely into the popular sayings of the people that one is tempted to suppose anything but an accidental or independent origin for its adoption. Thus the Chinese speak of the seven passions, the seven spirits; they wish a bride seven children; there are seven lawful reasons for divorce. The “Seven Joys” is a common tea-shop sign. There are the seven Famous Persons of the Bamboo Grove. Seven hands and eight feet is a common expression for “too many cooks spoil the broth,” and I may note that a jury is commonly termed in Hongkong (when the pidgin English word Ju-li is not used) the “seven strangers.” Except to indicate a parallel, I need hardly here specify the part which the same number plays in our own affairs. The Hebrew use of the number is familiar to all. The seven wise men, the seven hills, the seven senses, the seven churches, the seven angels, the seven planets, and some thirty other similar expressions are in frequent use amongst us. We transport rogues for seven and fourteen years and bind apprentices for seven, and we find that, of old, Selenus the mathematician, and Hippocrates, both held the Chinese idea of the seventh day being critical in diseases.

Always excepting the tabooed 13, odd numbers have ever been popular in England, in various circumstances. Thus we hold it lucky for an odd number of people to sit down to dinner. The Chinese incline to an even number, 8 being in their estimation the most fortunate. But as already noted they share with us the superstitions as to setting a hen on an odd number of eggs. On the other hand, the hair should not be combed on odd days, more especially the 1st and 15th of a month. (The coiffure of Chinese women being dressed with a glutinous substance, it is only combed out at intervals.)

Dreams have ever played an important part in the psychological history of the human race, and the belief in their portentous nature is possibly the only superstition common to all mankind. As Dr. Kitto (Cyclopædia of Biblical Literature, Art. Dreams) well observes:—“It is quite clear from the inspired history that dreams were looked upon by the earliest nations of antiquity as premonitions from their idol gods of future events; ... and in order to guard against imposition Moses pronounced a penalty against dreams which were invented and wickedly made use of.” It is almost unnecessary to make reference to the belief reposed in these alleged warnings from another world by Western nations. The story of Mahomed’s dream is known to all; and I will merely add that both the Negro and Fijian races believe them to be caused by visits of the souls of deceased friends, while such widely divergent races as the Finns and the Australian Aborigines entertain a contrary belief that the soul of the dreamer leaves his body as it enjoys or suffers imaginary pleasures or pains. [68] The Chinese refer all dreams to the inspiration of a god or goddess, but frequently use the divining bamboos to ascertain how they are to be interpreted. Many of the principal temples in the empire owe their construction to imaginary instructions received during sleep. A recent visitor to the city of Tai An, situated at the foot of the Tai San mountains in Shantung—one of the five sacred mountains of China—thus gives the local legend: “The common account is, that Chin Tsung, the third Emperor of Tʻang Dynasty, was afflicted with a grevious boil, which the Imperial physicians could not cure. There was a Taouist Priest at Tai San called Yen He, who declared that the Goddess of the mountain had appeared to him in a dream and directed him to go to the capital and cure this boil for the Emperor, at the same time directing him how to proceed. He went accordingly, and gave out that he had come to cure the Emperor’s boil. The Emperor hearing of it, called him in. As soon as he entered the Imperial presence, the boil called out, ‘Yen He has come and my destiny is finished;’ the Priest prescribed treatment, and the boil was cured. The Emperor wished to reward him with an office, but he refused, saying ‘Your Majesty has not been cured by my power, but by the efficient power of the God of Tai San; you should show your gratitude by repairing the temple at Tai San.’ The Emperor assented, made a large appropriation, and appointed an officer to have it rebuilt in magnificent style.” I might multiply examples of this sort ad libitum. The memorials in the Peking Gazette abound with references to acts done, or crimes discovered in consequence of dreams. Mr. Doolittle notes how dreaming has been pressed into the service of Buddhism at Foochow by way of enforcing the prohibition against eating flesh. “A certain butcher one day bought three buffaloes one of which he killed. One night he began suddenly to bellow like cattle, and for a whole day remained insensible. His family in alarm called a doctor, who prescribed medicine to revive him. His family, on his recovering his senses, inquired what was the occasion of his acting thus? He answered that he saw in his dream the two buffaloes not yet killed suddenly begin to speak like men; one of them said: ‘I am your father;’ and the other said: ‘I am your grand-father.’ In a short time they became in appearance like men, and on looking carefully at them, said he, ‘I saw that they were really my father and my grandfather.’ The butcher was so painfully affected by these circumstances that he sent the two cattle away to the country, and changed his calling.”

As an illustration of the every-day belief in dreams which comes under the observation of the least curious foreign resident in Chinese, I subjoin two stories which have within the last few months appeared in a Shanghai and Hongkong journal respectively. The first relates to the old, old subject—the discovery of treasure. “The other night a gentleman named Chang (Anglice Smith) went to bed and had a very remarkable dream. He thought that he was in a particular spot at the back of a certain temple in Shanghai city, and that there he came upon a hidden treasure of gold. On awaking he was so much impressed with the vivid nature of the dream that he immediately sprang out of bed, shouldered a pickaxe and wended his way to the enchanted spot. Upon reaching his destination he fell to work, and sure enough had not far to dig before he came upon a box containing five hundred taels’ weight of gold, and—so runs the story—all marked with the magic name of Chang! Of course proprietorship was indisputable, and lucky Mr. Chang trotted home a richer and a happier man.”

The other story appeared a very short time since in the China Mail, and the facts came within the writer’s personal knowledge. Some time ago, a junk sailed from Hoifoong, containing a number of coolies for the barracoons of Macao. Having arrived there, the live cargo was quickly disposed of, and the Captain received as freight something over $1,000. This incited the helmsman and some of the crew to league themselves with two piratical junks to attack the boat and to rob the Captain of the money. Two or three days after, the junk left Macao on her way back to Hoifoong. On the voyage, near Chang Chow, the two pirates hove in sight, and the helmsman steered closed up to them, when the pirates boarded the junk, killed the Captain and threw him overboard. Here comes the mysterious part of the story. The master of the Luk Kee barracoon one night dreamed a dream, in which he saw the ghost of the murdered man before him, saying he had been murdered, that he was robbed of his money, and that he wished the barracoon master to complain and try to obtain redress for him, which he thought would not be difficult, as the pirates were sailing off Chang Chow. On the strength of this dream, the barracoon master complained to the Portuguese authorities, who sent out a gunboat, and the pirates were found at the spot indicated by the ghost. The crew of the attacked junk (who had come to Hongkong since the robbery) immediately went to Macao; one of them was the brother of the deceased and had been cut in several places. Whether there was any truth in the statement of the appearance of the ghost or not, the facts of the robbery and capture were correct. Here there was nothing mysterious in the fact of a friend of the junk captain dreaming that a very common contingency in Canton waters had actually occurred. Nor was it very strange that he should hit upon the most likely place to find the pirates. The Chinese however, especially in psychological matters, are not very keen in connecting cause with effect, and the lucky dreamer enjoys to this day the reputation of having been specially favoured by the Goddess of Sailors.

It does not appear that Chinese soothsayers, like their Western prototypes, divide dreams into distinct categories, or, to put it more accurately, that the fortune-telling books in circulation amongst the people agree in any standard of division. There is, however, a sort of natural order followed, as all such warnings may be divided into three classes,—those which portend good fortune, those which portend evil, and those to which no precise signification can be affixed. A very interesting paper on the subject of dreams recently appeared in the Japan Mail; [69] and from this it would appear that in many respects Chinese and Japanese beliefs are alike, though the latter people, true to their national character, have evinced a much greater talent for classification than their older rivals. Amongst good portents, in Chinese belief, are dreams of mounting upwards to the skies, meeting genii, or persons celebrated for their positions or acquirements, and of being present at convivial parties. To dream that one sees bats, turtles or tortoises, or that one is wounded by robbers (provided blood be not drawn) is also of good augury. These are also portents of good fortune to the Japanese; but while the latter consider that to dream of wearing new clothes or of having ulcers on the face is a sign of prosperity, these are both taken to augur impending ill fortune in China. [70] Of evil auguries common to the two countries are dreams of eating fruit, of breaking mirrors, or of seeing ants crawling over the house matting; to dream of the “sun or moon shedding tears of blood” is a sign of the approaching death of a parent; while to dream of having one’s teeth pulled out implies impending unfriendliness on the part of relatives, and to dream of eating pears is an emblem of family broils. In both countries bad dreams should not be talked about at once—in China, until the morning meal has been taken, and in Japan until the mouth has been rinsed with water and ejected facing the East, an incantation being at the same time ejaculated. To dream of a bear is in China a sign that the dreamer will have a son; of a snake that he or she will have a daughter; while the appearance in a dream of a white mouse indicates the presence of treasure at the place where the animal is seen. Yet we must not be too hard on our Eastern friends. A half superstitious belief in the prophetic nature of dreams lingers throughout Europe, and a few decades will doubtless find China and Japan as generally incredulous of its existing beliefs in such matters as we assume to be ourselves.

V.—CHARMS, SPELLS, AMULETS AND DIVINATIONS.

The subjects to be dealt with under the above heading afford an embarras de richesses. Next to the belief in the prophetic nature of dreams none probably is more widespread than that in charms and kindred matters. The ancient British Druids attempted to cure the generality of diseases by charms and incantations, [71] and the so-called Doctors of modern China follow a similar custom hallowed by a still greater antiquity. But in addition to these, the universal belief in the influence of demons and evil spirits upon the every-day life of mortals has led to the devising of such numerous preservatives that the makers and vendors of such wares find constant employment. I propose to deal in the first instance with charms involving a certain amount of preparation, classing articles worn about the person under the head of amulets.

The superstitious regard paid to mirrors as regards their preservative qualities has been noticed in a previous chapter. This probably arises from the fact that in China they are regarded as all-efficacious household charms against the attacks of evil spirits. Nor are magic mirrors, similar in their use to the ink mirrors employed by modern Egyptian necromancers, unknown to the Chinese. At Canton, only a year or two since, a native was exhibiting for the small sum of 30 cash (about 2½d.) a jewel stated to possess magical qualities. In it the curious spectator saw various figures such as a beggar, a mandarin, a woman, &c., and was assured that his or her own future condition would be the same as that of the counterfeit thus seen. There exists a belief in many parts of the Empire that the pointed roof or corner of a house’s gable end may exert an unpleasant influence upon the dwelling in nearest proximity. To counteract this therefore a concave brass mirror—those of glass are still articles de luxe in most districts—set in a wooden frame, is arranged on the wall or roof of the threatened building so as to catch and reflect back the evil influences in question. I can find no trace of any similar practice in Western countries. Small brass mirrors hung near a bed are also all-efficacious to ward off evil influences.

It is possible, that, though everybody knows how fire-crackers are used by the Chinese to frighten off evil spirits, all readers are not aware that they are charms pure and simple; the original intention of their manufacture being to imitate the crackling of burning bamboos which were supposed to frighten away a race of malignant demons called Shan siao—“beings in human shape, a foot or so in height, and by nature very fearless,” or according to another account a bird with a nest as big as a five bushel measure. [72] Mr. W. F. Mayers, in his interesting article on gunpowder and firearms in China, in the Journal of the N. C. B. R. A. S. for 1869–70, ingeniously suggests that these demons are but the embodiment of the supernatural agency visible in the attacks of fever and ague to which the inhabitants of the swampy regions of Western China were, and still are, liable. I quote his remarks: “The Chinese themselves do not appear to have pursued any investigation respecting the origin or meaning of the term Shan siao, but, guided by the date of its appearance in literature and its foreign garb, we may with some confidence, ascribe the belief in this demon to an Indian parentage. As regards the myth itself, it may be permitted to hazard the speculation that fever and ague, lurking as it did and still does in the swampy regions of Western China, may, by a very familiar process, have become embodied in the conception of a supernatural agency, and that the fires which native wisdom or foreign counsel might suggest as a prophylactic device may have been invested with magical attributes, either by teachers who thought it best to fortify sanitary precautions with a cloak of fetishism, or else by the inherited tradition of succeeding ages. However this may be, the idea of exorcism, dating as far back as the sixth century, has remained inseparably connected with the use of fire-crackers down to the present day.” And in a note on the same page the writer adds that subsequently to an execution taking place at Canton in 1868 in a public square, the inhabitants of the locality were not satisfied until they had exorcised the ghost of the departed criminal by a protracted discharge of crackers. It is not difficult to trace a similar motive in the custom which obtains of honouring the departure of a popular resident in any place, in a similar manner. The crackers are to frighten away all demons from the traveller. Such a compliment is frequently paid to foreigners by their Chinese acquaintances in Hongkong. It may, I think, be taken as certain that crackers are charms pure and simple to the Chinese, their use as mere noise-producing fireworks being secondary to the idea of exorcism.

Charms of another sort are sometimes used by the Chinese. It is only three years since that H. E. Li Hung Chang, who is at this moment premier of China, fired cannon at the Peiho to make it cease inundating the surrounding country. [73] The Eagre or bore of the Tsien Tang river, which flows from the boundaries of Kiang-si, Fuhkien and Chih-keang to Hang-chow Bay, and takes its name “money-dyke” from the amount expended on its embankments, [74] has been treated with “charms” on several occasions, but as Chinese annals tell us, with very indifferent success. Prince Wu Shu (A.D. 930) made five hundred “daring archers” let fly six arrows apiece at the dreaded tidal wave as it came rolling onwards, and then after praying to Wu Tsz-si, the tutelary deity of the stream, put the key of the dyke water gate into an envelope, and threw it into the river. Forthwith the waters retired; but as they would have retired in the ordinary course of events, even the Chinese did not consider the experiment a remarkable success. In 1131 the Emperor Kan Tsung sunk ten iron plates, each weighing over 130 lbs., in the river by way of charming the mischievous spirits of the waters, but charms and embankments were alike carried off by the resistless power of the tide. Experience however was not availed of in a case where superstition had firm hold, and time and time again was a similar experiment tried—with, I need hardly say, similar success. Such practices, however, have not been quite unknown amongst ourselves, and even at the present day there are many springs in rural Britain supposed to be guarded by spirits who require charming in a very similar way. The crooked pins cast into St. Winifred’s well in North Wales, the fourpenny pieces cast into that of Gwern Degla, the rags and clothes thrown into those of Strathfillan and Kenethmont in Scotland, and Benton (near Newcastle-upon-Tyne), and the common offering of three stones as a tribute to the spirit of the stream in Unst (Shetland), are, like the nosegays thrown into wells and fountains in honour of their presiding nymphs at the Roman fontinalia, or the cakes of bread-corn similarly offered of old to Juno in Laconia, evidences of a belief not at all unlike that which prompts Chinese acts of a similar nature.

The anti-demoniacal power ascribed to the wood and leafy branches of certain trees in our own folklore is matched by a similar Chinese belief. The elder, the rowan, the yew, and the mountain ash of rural England, or the palasa (a species of mimosa) of India, are represented, in the Middle Kingdom, by the bamboo, peach and willow, which are regarded as peculiarly powerful over goblins and imps. The dry Bamboo is supposed to attract devils. On the other hand a rod of green bamboo is carried at funerals by nearly-related mourners for a contrary purpose. It is called the “dog-driving rod,” and is supposed to be efficacious in driving away evil spirits who might stop the way of the departed. The willow is used both to drive away and to raise spirits, but in the former case a twig only must be used. The plum tree is also regarded as possessing mysterious virtues in the same direction, but is not thought equal to the willow. Two other plants are also supposed to be efficacious against evil spirits, and one of them, the Fo yeung lak 火殃䓶 is at Canton hung over door-ways to prevent them from entering houses. We too, formerly put up holly at Christmas with a similar object, though it has now become a mere decoration, and there was a pretty Druidical superstition that the Sylvan spirits would take refuge in the evergreen branches from the chill winds and snows proper to the season. [75] It would be interesting to trace the superstitions connected with trees somewhat further, but I have not sufficient authorities at command.

Of the charms affixed to buildings, etc., the Chinese have a fair variety. The all-potent horseshoe is indeed not found nailed against doors and gables; but, oddly enough, a horse’s hoof hung up in a house [76] has the same preservative virtues in native eyes. Chinese reverence for the dead has prevented the adoption of so horrible a charm as that known in France, Germany, Spain, and Ireland as “the hand of Glory” or dead man’s hand, consisting actually of the dried hand of an executed criminal. But a nail that has been used in fastening up a coffin is a sovereign charm. This is sometimes beaten out into a rod or wire, and, encased in silver, worn as a ring round the ancles or wrists. The cat here makes her appearance, a clay image of poor pussy—with a bob-tail of course, after the Chinese model,—being frequently placed on the apex of a roof to ward off unpropitious influences. The conspicuous position thus accorded to the cat as a warder-off of evil fortune seems oddly paralleled, though not imitated, by the place accorded to the same animal in popular European folk-lore. I have already mentioned its evil repute amongst the Chinese as a harbinger of ill luck, and this agrees closely with the usual Western estimate, witches and cats being constantly associated, the former indeed being supposed to take upon themselves the shape of the latter at will. The old legend that the chariot of the Goddess Freya was drawn by cats, and that Holda was attended by maidens riding on cats, is referred by Mr. Kelly to a widespread belief in their weatherwise powers. In China the cat is supposed to be in league with the spirits of darkness, and as this includes meteorological prescience, it is propitiated accordingly, the cat’s image becoming a popular “charm.”

So too those nondescript animals which most people agree to call lions, and which may be seen keeping guard in such disconsolate attitudes on the roofs of most native buildings of importance, are mere charms. The Chinaman in fact, from his cradle upwards, seems to regard himself as ever environed by diabolical agencies, to combat which an all-pervading system of charms and amulets is a prime necessity. While we laugh at this superstition, it is perhaps only a too vivid realisation of the fact of the devil “going about like a roaring lion.” It may be interesting to note here that our own custom of depositing coins, papers, &c., in the foundation stones of new buildings is matched by a similar custom in China. I am unable to trace the superstitious origin of the practice in our own case, but the Chinese place coins under the door-sill and under the kitchen fireplace, when building, simply for luck. In some cases, following out the usual notion of contrariety, these and other charms are attached to the ridge pole of the building.

“Cash-swords,” a very common form of charm, are thus described: “What is commonly called a Cash-sword is considered very efficacious in keeping away evil spirits. It is often hung up on the front and the outside of the bridal bed-curtain, in a position parallel to the horizon. About the time of a woman’s confinement, a cash-sword is sometimes taken and hung inside of the curtain. This sword is usually about two feet long, and is constructed out of three kinds of things, each of which is regarded as a preventive of evil spirits: 1st. Two iron rods, about two feet long, constitute the foundation of the sword. 2d. About one hundred cash, either ancient or modern (if ancient, or if all of the same emperor’s reign, so much the better), are ingeniously fastened on these rods, concealing them from view. The rods are placed in the centre, and the coins are tied on the outside in two rows. 3d. Red cords or wires are used in tying on the cash. These three kinds, joined together in the shape of a sword, make a really formidable weapon, of which the maliciously-disposed spirits are exceedingly afraid!” [77]

Another charm of extensive use amongst Chinese women is a small solid silver or golden triangle, having two little swords suspended from the outer angles and a trident from the centre of the base; on the triangle itself lucky characters are engraved. This shape appears to be a favorite one, as women always fold their written charms in a similar manner, and sew them up in pieces of cloth of a triangular pattern.

The idea of an evil eye is no less common amongst the native population out here than it was and still is in Europe; and this belief, implicitly accepted as regards their own countrymen, is intensified as regards foreigners, owing to the outrageous stories circulated about us during recent excitements. I have often been amused in the North at the request not to stare at any child whose interesting appearance might have attracted my attention. In writing letters the Chinese invoke the person addressed, to cast a glance on the epistle “with the clear part of his eye” (or, as we should say, white of the eye) that is, take a favourable view of the matter talked of. A pregnant woman or a man whose wife is pregnant, is called “four-eyed,” and children are guarded against being looked at by either, as it is thought the sight would be unlucky to the children and would cause sickness to attack them. The superstition as to the powers of an “evil eye” may almost be deemed fundamental to humanity, as I have yet to read of a people amongst whom it does not find some degree of credence.

One of the commonest diagrams to be met with throughout China is the mystic swastika or “Thor’s Hammer” 卐 (pronounced wan in Chinese and given as the archaic form of 萬). It is all-pervading, meeting the eye in all sorts of places, on the wrappers of medicines and sweetmeats, the stomachs or chests of idols, and the flanks of animals, upon dead walls, coins, etc. Dr. Eitel gives a most interesting account of this symbol in the 3rd volume of Notes and Queries on China and Japan. [78] It is ordinarily accepted as “the accumulation of lucky signs possessing ten thousand virtues, being one of the 65 mystic figures [79] which are believed to be traceable in every one of the famous foot-prints of Buddha. This of course stamps its Buddhistic origin so far as the Chinese are concerned. Apropos of this symbol, known by us as the fylfot, a recent review of Mr. Waring’s Ceramic Art in Remote Ages says:—“Another form of the cross which Mr. Waring has collected very completely is the fylfot. By some this is thought to be only a sort of Greek fret or meander pattern; but the evidence of its having been a symbol in past times of mystic significance is too strong to allow of its being reduced to a mere ornament. It has been identified with the Hammer of Thor, the Zeus or Thunderer of the Scandinavians. With the Buddhists this cross had the very opposite signification from that of the tau of the Egyptians or the cross of the Christians. General Cunningham is quoted, who says:—‘The atheistical Swastikas received their name from their peculiar symbol, the Swastika, or Mystic Cross, which was typical of their belief in Swasti. This term is a compound of ‘su,’ well, ‘asti,’ it is, meaning ‘it is well;’ or, as Wilson expresses it, ‘so be it,’ and implying complete resignation under all circumstances.’... To Mr. Waring’s collection of facts regarding the Swastika, or fylfot, it may be added that a Hindoo woman, when she cleans out her simple cottage, and washes over the earthen floor with a thin coating of mud and cow-dung—the latter having, as coming from the cow, which is sacred, a highly purifying virtue—she usually forms the figure of a Swastika on the door-step. In the woman’s mind it is supposed to be an efficacious charm to keep away evil from the house. Along with the fylfot we have the very similar figure of the three legs which we associate with the Isle of Man. Mr. Waring’s book gives us many examples of this symbol. In some cases they are legs, but oftener they are merely three obtuse angles, or curves. This is also found in many parts of the world, as well as some examples which are given with five or six limbs. In such cases it is suggestive of a wheel; and there are a number of Buddhist symbols not unlike to these, which are understood to represent the ‘Wheel of the Law,’ or the Wheel of Buddha. It may be stated that a three-limbed figure of this kind is much used in the Punjaub, and other parts of India, by the Mohajin log—the banking or moneyed class—as a charm; they place it in their houses, and generally over the door.” But Dr. Eitel makes a yet more interesting contribution to the subject in pointing out that Scandinavians, Danes, Germans and Englishmen still attach superstitious importance to this magic charm of their heathen forefathers, and of the Chinese Buddhists of to-day. To the present time the hammer of Thor is used amongst the German peasantry, and in Ireland, as a magical sign to dispel thunder. [80] The same symbol was frequently cast on bells during the Middle Ages, and many of them still bear this mark. Dr. E. mentions those of Appleby and Scotherne, Waldingham, Bishop’s Norton and West Barkwith in Lincolnshire, Hathersage in Derbyshire, Maxborough in Yorkshire, and many more. That this symbol should thus be common to Buddhistic and Scandinavian mythology argues a common fount in ages long gone by; before the Aryan races had commenced their Westward wanderings or the Shang dynasty had ceased to reign in China—coeval in fact with Cadmus, the reputed father of Western letters.

The use of the Pa-kwa or “Eight diagrams”—a collection of strokes arranged in hexagonal form and familiar to the merest tyro in Chinese studies—as a charm to ward off evil influences, is universal. It is made of all sizes and shapes, from large ones on boards one or two feet square, down to tiny medals for personal wear not larger than a sixpence. In the centre is the diagram of the Yang and Yin (male and female principle), or sometimes a concave metal or glass mirror. Coarsely executed boards of this description are placed perpendicularly on the highest part of the roof. More neatly carved specimens are hung up in rooms. Go where one will, the inevitable pa kwa, carved, painted or written, is almost sure to ornament some portion of the premises. On some houses again will be seen “three arrows placed in an earthen tube, and laid on the side of the roof, the tube pointing towards some distant object—the arrows being fastened in their places by clay.” Sometimes the representation of a lad sitting on a three-legged nondescript animal, with a bow in his hands, as if on the act of shooting an arrow, takes the place of or accompanies the other objects described. [81]

Stone slabs or pillars erected near the entrances of alleys leading into a main street, are supposed to ward off the evil influences proceeding from them. Mr. Doolittle states that in Foochow every family on the first day of the Chinese month nails up a few leaves of the sweet flag (acorus gramineus) and artemisia on each side of the front doorway. They are held to represent swords, and so scare away evil spirits! Other charms, not personal, in Chinese use, are red cloth worn in the pockets, or red silk braided into the hair of children; a knife that has been used to kill a fellow-creature; the Chinese Classics placed under the pillow or kept near the owner; knife-cash cast for the purpose and attached to the ridgepole; pieces of old fishing nets, of which demons are said to be especially afraid as they suppose them to be used by the priests to catch spirits; and gourd shells, which it is supposed will attract to their interior such diseases as small-pox, measles, &c., which might otherwise attack children. Images or drawings of tigers, lizards, snakes, centipedes, &c.—the list is almost inexhaustible—have similar virtues, more especially guarding children from colic and other infantile diseases.

Most people are acquainted with the cant expression about “taking a hair of the dog that bit you,” now-a-days applied by those, who have drank too much overnight, to the morning glass supposed to re-steady the shaken nerves, but originating in a superstition common to both Europe and China. The idea on which it is based is that of the sympathy which a part of the body has with the whole. Thus a dog’s virus being powerless on its own body, a person will by swallowing one of its hairs enjoy the immunity possessed by the animal it came from. In Devonshire we find the idea oddly reversed, as, when a child suffers from hooping cough, a hair from its head is put between slices of bread and butter and given to a dog, who thereupon, it is believed, gets the cough instead of the child. [82] In the same country it is supposed that you can give a neighbour ague, by burying a dead man’s hair under his threshold. [83] The fact of a dog’s hair possessing mystic powers, in Chinese Hakka [84] belief, is illustrated by the following incident related to me by a distinguished sinologue in this Colony.

While on his missionary tours in the Canton province he was usually accompanied by a powerful dog, at which, in some of the villages he passed through, the children were somewhat frightened and once or twice very slightly bitten. In such a case the mother would run after him and beg for a hair from the dog’s tail, as a charm against the evil one. The hair thus obtained would be put to the part bitten in the belief that the spirit which the fright suffered by the child had caused to pass into his person, would thereby be attracted from it.

My informant used sometimes, jokingly, to say to the applicant, “Oh! take a hair from the dog yourself,” but not liking his looks, this offer was usually declined, and the alternative suggested brings into notice another curiously wide-spread superstition. He was asked to spit in her hand, as a charm against evil. Now the virtues claimed for this not very cleanly proceeding by the Chinese found a thorough belief amongst the ancients, which survives to this day amongst the lower classes in England. Brand gives a most interesting chapter on this subject. [85] The Roman custom of lustrating an infant by spittle on the day of its being named, that of the Mandingoes who spit thrice in the child’s face on the same occasion, and the custom of fishwomen at home who still “spit upon their handsel,” or the first money they take in the day, all point to the same belief as that entertained by the Hakkas. There is still a rural English belief that spitting three times in a person’s face is a charm against the evil eye. The Hebrew belief in the mystic properties of saliva is said to be of considerable antiquity, and we find our Saviour on two occasions (St. John ix. 6 and Mark vii. 33) using it in curing the blind.

“Characts,” or written charms, are as common in China as in Europe. We settle the origin of our own former confidence in their efficacy by a somewhat off-hand reference to the Jewish phylactery—a derivation I am inclined to doubt—but we have nothing that I know of to guide us in finding the root of the Chinese superstition. However that may be, the fact that written charms have ever been deemed efficacious, wherever the art of writing is known, is curious. Not a very long time ago the still warm body of a deceased male child was picked up in the streets of Hongkong, having affixed to its cap one of these charms, which had evidently been sold to the parents by one of the itinerant fortune-tellers who infest the city. It was kindly placed at my disposal by the Coroner, and a facsimile of it is given on the opposite page.

It is almost untranslateable, but if you bear in mind that the Chinese words refer to horary or astrological terms, the following will give you some idea of what it meant. The paper refers to an infant born in the yam shan year (1872), 2nd moon, 17th day, at noon; the character for “left” appended to the date signifies that the child is a male, that for right signifying a female.

“Being born in the yam shan year, kwai mou month and kap ng hour, the child is subject to the combined influence of these dates. Under yam shan it will be adverse to the influence of koon (officials) [that is an indication of evil], but will find powerful friends. He will have brothers who will impoverish him. According to the portents under the character kwai mou, he will always have plenty to eat and great wealth. Under Sun mi he will meet with counter influences from an evil spirit. Kap ng indicates that he will meet with good influences indicating wealth and powerful friends, but these good influences will be counteracted by an evil spirit.

“For 3 years, the first epoch under prediction, his fate is good. Thence to the age of 13, the first five years will be bad, the second five good; from 14 to 25 the first five years will be bad, the second very bad; from 26 to 33, five years will be bad, the latter five very good; thence to 43, good and very good fortune will be his fate. For five years after this his fate will be good, continuing till his death, which will happen before he is 53.

“The life of this child indicates purity and prosperity. His good fortune lies in being born at the hour of noon, as this indicates powerful friends and other good influences. His future life will be one of bliss, but he ought to adopt the Kum-fa goddess, in the municipal temple, as his spiritual mother. In selecting a name for him some character should be chosen having To, earth, as a component part. It will then be lucky. The date fixed for shaving the child should be the 18th day of the 3rd moon from 9 to 10 a.m. The child should be a year old before he is vaccinated.”

So much for this written charm;—sad rubbish no doubt, but not much worse than the whining predictions of gypsy crones in enlightened Europe, and harmful chiefly in the widespread belief attached to its value.

The charm here given was written on red paper, that colour being supposed to be peculiarly obnoxious to evil spirits. Hence the red cloth and silken twist already noted. But charms on yellow paper are quite as numerous. Yellow is the Imperial colour, one of the five recognized in the Chinese cosmogony, and a superstitious value attaches to its use. “Sometimes a picture of an idol is printed or written upon this paper, or some Chinese characters, or various scrolls, are drawn on the paper with red or black ink. It is then pasted up over a door or on a bed-curtain, or it is worn in the hair, or put into a red bag and suspended from a button-hole, or it is burnt, and the ashes are mingled with tea or hot water, and drank as a specific against bad influences or spirits. An incredible number of these charms are used in the various ways indicated. Many houses have eight or ten or more on the front side or under the eaves. Immense numbers are burnt in idolatrous or superstitious ceremonies.” [86] Similar charms are hung upon bed-curtains, placed upon the ridge poles of houses, and hung over door-ways. The veneration entertained for the written character in China is doubtless partially owing to the superstitious belief in the protective nature of written charms. The Biblical, or at all events Talmudical, authority for the use of Phylacteries seems to have indirectly produced a somewhat similar effect amongst the Hebrews. Brand gives numerous instances of the belief in written charms in England, and a gypsy charact, sold within the last few years, has come under the present writer’s personal observation. In this case, as in all others, it may be truly said, that the more we enquire the less do we find to be the divergence between Chinese and Western beliefs and superstitions.

But amulets and charms worn about the person are, perhaps, even greater objects of importance in Chinese estimation than household or other charms. Retaining as we do the words, now applied to harmless trinkets worn on the watch-chain, [87] we are apt to forget the deep significance attached to them by our forefathers, and to somewhat unduly ignore the influence which a belief in their virtues once exercised over our own ancestors, and still exercises over people like the Chinese. I may here note that small trinkets, believed to be veritable amulets, are worn by the well-to-do Chinese just as among ourselves. The most popular form of charm is, both in China and England, a piece of money. Most boys have treasured a “lucky fourpenny” with a hole in it, and most Chinese babies have been the unconscious owners of “lucky cash” attached to them by a red string and bearing certain lucky characters inscribed on them. The cash chosen for this purpose are, as a rule, ancient. The older the cash the greater its virtue. Sometimes coins of this sort are tied on the wrists of a new-born child and worn by it for a considerable time. Similarly a number of cash belonging to the reigns of different Emperors are placed under the bed of a newly-married couple. Collectors of old coins frequently come across curious specimens of the numismatic art produced for this purpose, metals generally in China being favourite substances for amulets. One of the commonest amulets given to an only son is a small silver lock. The father collects a number of cash from the heads of a large number—strictly speaking a hundred—different families, and having exchanged them for silver has the latter converted into a native padlock which is used to fasten a silver chain or ring on the boy’s neck. [88] This it is supposed will be respected by evil spirits, and will therefore contribute to the boy’s longevity. Another popular amulet is made in the shape of a flattish silver hook with some fortunate inscription thereon. But most common of all are the little bells worn by the Chinese child of every degree in the Southernmost provinces and, more sparingly, used in the North also. The origin of the custom as regards Canton has been already given. But a belief in the occult qualities of bells is so wide-spread [89] that considerable doubt may reasonably exist whether, even if the legend be true, the Cantonese did not merely amplify an existing practice by way of appeasing the Demon of the bell. It is at all events strange that our own ancestors should have credited bells with possessing occult powers to aid mankind in their combat with the spirits of darkness, while the Chinese propitiate the same enemies by wearing models of bells upon their clothes. But a yet more odd coincidence is found in the sixty-six bells attached to the Ephod of the Jewish High priest when engaged in sacerdotal ministration. [90] At the present day we give bells to babies mounted on a piece of coral—itself a celebrated charm since the days of Pliny, by whom it is noted as an amulet against fascination and able to preserve and fasten the teeth. Few substances, by the way, except metal are used by the Chinese as amulets, jade being almost the only exception. [91] It would be interesting to ascertain whether the ear-ring was ever regarded in China, as by the Semitic races, as a sort of amulet or charm.

Divination is in China as popular as, and probably more respectable than, it was amongst the Israelites in the days of the witch of Endor, and it is not perhaps going too far to say that there is not a single means resorted to in the West by way of lifting the impenetrable veil which hides the future from curious mankind which is not known to and practised by the Chinese. From “Pinking the Bible” to using the Planchette, from tossing for odd and even to invoking spirits to actually speak through crafty media, the whole range of Western superstition in this regard is as familiar to the average Chinaman as to the most enthusiastic spiritualist at home. The coincidences of practice and belief are indeed so startling that many will doubtless see in them a sort of evidence either for their truthfulness, or for a common origin of evil. Divination by the ka pui has been already noted, together with that by bamboo slips. Cash and many other objects are similarly used, the mode of procedure in no way differing from our own. Such modes of consulting the gods are, however, every-day matters. It is when we come to the consulting of media, the use of a forked stick, writing on sand, and similar matters that the Chinese practice becomes singular in its resemblance to superstitions openly avowed at home. I would here remark that I am no spiritualist. But how, without any apparent connection with each other, such beliefs should at once be found in full force in the farthest East and the extreme West is puzzling. Is our Western spiritualism derived from China?

It is only within the last ten years that the attention of English readers has been markedly drawn to this strange agreement of Chinese with Western belief and practice—in the first instance, [92] by the Rev. J. Doolittle, in a series of papers contributed originally to the China Mail and subsequently published in book form in 1867; and in the same and following years, more exhaustively, in Notes and Queries on China and Japan, by the Rev. E. J. Eitel, PH.D., whose thorough and scholarly papers on Chinese matters render him a high authority. Readers of that now defunct periodical will doubtless, in consideration of the papers in question being out of print and unknown to the majority of the British public, pardon my here transferring Dr. Eitel’s remarks almost verbatim; the more so as any original account I could give would be but a mere variation in language:—