Part 5 (1/2)

37 I have given to this stranger-child, this child left to die upon the tow-path, the clothes that were our son's. She was cold, and thy Mother came to me so gently and said, ”Kwei-li, hast thou no clothing for the child that was found by thy servants?” I saw her meaning, and I said, ”Would'st thou have me put the clothing over which I have wept, and that is now carefully laid away in the camphor-wood box, upon this child?” She said-- and thou would'st not know thy Mother's voice, her bitter words are only as the rough sh.e.l.l of the lichee nut that covers the sweet meat hidden within-- she said, ”Why not, dear one?

This one needs them, and the hours thou pa.s.sest with them are only filled with saddened memories.” I said to her, ”This is a girl, a beggar child. I will not give to her the clothing of my son. Each time I looked upon her it would be a knife plunged in my heart.” She said to me, ”Kwei-li, thou art not a child, thou art a woman. Of what worth that clothing lying in that box of camphor-wood? Does it bring back thy son? Some day thou wilt open it, and there will be nothing but dust which will reproach thee. Get them and give them to this child which has come to us out of the night.”

I went to the box and opened it, and they lay there, the little things that had touched his tiny body. I gave them, the trousers of purple, the jackets of red, the embroidered shoes, the caps with the many Buddhas. I gave them all to the begger child.

I am, Thy Wife.

38 I am reproached because I will not go to the temple. It is filled with the sounds of chanting which comes to me faintly as I lie upon the terrace. There are women there, happy women, with their babies in their arms, while mine are empty. There are others there in sorrow, laying their offerings at the feet of Kwan-yin. They do not know that she does not feel, nor care, for womankind. She sits upon her lotus throne and laughs at mothers in despair. How can she feel, how can she know, that thing of gilded wood and plaster?

I stay upon my terrace, I live alone within my court of silent dreams.

For me there are no G.o.ds.

39 They have brought to me from the market-place a book of a new G.o.d.

I would not read it. I said, ”There are too many G.o.ds-- why add a new one? I have no candles or incense to lay before an image.” But-- I read and saw within its pages that He gave rest and love and peace.

Peace-- what the holy man desired, the end of all things-- peace. And I, I do not want to lose the gift of memory; I want remembrance, but I want it without pain.

The cherry-blossoms have bloomed and pa.s.sed away. They lingered but a moment's s.p.a.ce, and, like my dream of spring, they died. But, pa.s.sing, they have left behind the knowledge that we'll see them once again. There must be something, somewhere, to speak to despairing mothers and say, ”Weep not! You will see your own again.”

I do not want a G.o.d of temples. I have cried my prayers to Kwan-yin, and they have come back to me like echoes from a deadened wall. I want a G.o.d to come to me at night-time, when I am lying lonely, wide-eyed, staring into darkness, with all my body aching for the touch of tiny hands. I want that G.o.d who says, ”I give thee Peace,” to stand close by my pillow and touch my wearied eyelids and bring me rest.

I have been dead-- enclosed within a tomb of sorrow and despair; but now, at words but dimly understood, a faint new life seems stirring deep within me. A Voice speaks to me from out these pages, a Voice that says, ”Come unto Me all ye weary and heavy-laden, and I will give thee rest.” My longing soul cries out, ”Oh, great and unknown G.o.d, give me this rest!” I am alone, a woman, helpless, stretching out my arms in darkness, but into my world of gloom has come a faint dim star, a star of hope that says to me, ”There is a G.o.d.”

Part 2.

-Preface_.

These letters were written by Kwei-li twenty-five years after those written to her husband when she was a young girl of eighteen. They are, therefore, the letters of the present-day Chinese woman of the old school, a woman who had by education and environment exceptional opportunities to learn of the modern world, but who, like every Eastern woman, clings with almost desperate tenacity to the traditions and customs of her race. Indeed, however the youth of Oriental countries may be changing, their mothers always exhibit that characteristic of woman-hood, conservatism, which is to them the safe-guard of their homes. Unlike the Western woman, accustomed to a broader horizon, the woman of China, secluded for generations within her narrow courtyards, prefers the ways and manners which she knows, rather than flying to ills she knows not of. It is this self-protective instinct that makes the Eastern woman the foe to those innovations which are slowly but surely changing the face of the entire Eastern, yard.

The former letters were written out of the quiet, domestic scenes of the primitive, old China, while the present letters come out of the confused revolutionary atmosphere of the new China. Kwei-li's patriotism and hatred of the foreigner grows out of the fact that, as wife of the governor of one of the chief provinces, she had been from the beginning en rapport with the intrigues, the gossip, and the rumours of a revolution which, for intricacy of plot and hidden motive, is incomparable with any previous national change on record. Her att.i.tude toward education as seen in her relations.h.i.+p with her son educated in England and America reveals the att.i.tude of the average Chinese father and mother if they would allow their inner feelings to speak.

Kwei-li's religion likewise exhibits the tendency of religious att.i.tude on the part of the real Chinese, especially those of the older generation.

It is touched here and there by the vital spark of Christianity, but at the centre continues to be Chinese and inseparably a.s.sociated with the wors.h.i.+p of ancestors and the reverence for those G.o.ds whose influence has been woven into the early years of impressionable life.

That the hope of the educational, social, and religious change in China rests with the new generation is evident to all. The Chinese father and mother will sail in the wooden s.h.i.+ps which their sons and daughters are beginning to leave for barks of steel.

There is little doubt that new China will be Westernised in every department of her being. No friend of China hopes for such sudden changes, however, as will prevent the Chinese themselves from permeating the new with their own distinctive individuality. There is a charm about old China that only those who have lived there can understand, and there is a charm about these dainty ladies, secluded within their walls, which the modern woman may lose in a too sudden transition into the air of the Western day.

Let Europe, let America, let the West come to China, but let the day be far distant when we shall find no longer in the women's courtyards such mothers as Kwei-li.

1 My Dear Mother, Thy son has received his appointment as governor of this province, and we are at last settled in this new and strange abode. We are most proud of the words p.r.o.nounced by His Excellency Yuan when giving him his power of office. He said:

”You, Liu, are an example of that higher patriotism rarely met with in official life, which recognises its duty to its Government, a duty too often forgotten by the members of a great family such as that of which you are the honoured head, in the obligation to the Clan and the desire to use power for personal advantage. Your official record has been without stain; and especially your work among the foreigners dwelling in our land has been accomplished with tact and discretion. I am sending you to Shanghai, which is the most difficult post in the Republic because of its involved affairs with the foreign nations, knowing that the interests of the Republic will be always safe in your hands.”

I write thee this because I know thy mother-heart will rejoice that our President shows such confidence in thy son, and that his many years of service to his country have been appreciated.

Shanghai truly is a difficult place at present. There are fifteen nationalities here represented by their consuls, and they are all watching China and each other with jealous eyes, each nation fearing that another will obtain some slight advantage in the present unsettled state of our country. The town is filled with adventurers, both European and Chinese, who are waiting anxiously to see what att.i.tude the new Governor takes in regard to the many projects in which they are interested. My husband says nothing and allows them to wonder. It is better for them, because, like all schemers, if they had nothing to give them anxious nights and troubled dreams, they would not be happy.