Part 8 (2/2)

No wonder it is hard for them to make converts among the people who have business dealings with these men from Christian nations.

But China will not forever bear the ill-treatment of men from Western lands. She is awake to all the insults; she has learned in the bitter halls of experience. She sleeps no longer; she will rise in self-defense and fight aggression; and the nations who have misused her must remember that when she moves it will be the movement of a mighty people aroused by the thought of their great wrongs. She is peaceful and long-suffering, but she is different from the old-time China. She has now a national spirit that has been brought about by better means of communication between provinces. In the olden time it was difficult for one part or the Empire to know the conditions in another. But now the telegraph and the daily newspaper come to all the smallest villages. I am sure that the watchman by thy outer gate reads as he guards thy household, and learns in far Sezchuan what has happened to-day in Peking, or the Southern city of Canton, and the news is discussed in the tea-shops and on corners by men from farm and shop and office.

The foreigners are mistaken in their belief that China can never be united. She has been one for centuries, in beliefs, in morals, in education, and in religion, and now she will be more united in her stand against the hated white man who covets her treasures. She may quarrel with her brothers within her borders; but that is nothing but a family feud, and in time of danger from outside, like all families, she will unite to fight for her own until the last red lantern fades and the morning star is s.h.i.+ning. Enough of politics and bitterness! I hear thy son, who is coming for his evening cup of tea.

Thy daughter, Kwei-li.

13 My Dear Mother, The times here are very bad; people are fleeing from the inland cities and coming to Shanghai by the thousands. The place is crowded to suffocation.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Mylady21.]

Wu Ting-fang was here and talked long into the night with my husband. My son, who, I am afraid, does not think too highly of this great man, says that he is with the party that is ”on top,” that he spends most of his time sitting on the fence-- whatever that may mean. I drove past his house the other day and did not see him sitting on the fence, but on his veranda, calmly drinking tea.

Sun Yat-sen has violated his word of honour and has joined the Southern forces. We feel he has acted most dishonourably and (my son again) should have ”staid bought.” Gossips say he received many millions of taels, presumably for the railroads, but that was only an excuse to slip the money into his wide and hungry pockets.

It is decided to send my son to Canton, into the office of the governor of that province. We are glad to get him away from Shanghai, which is a nest of adders and vipers, conspiring and raising their poisonous heads in the dark. One does not know whom to trust, or who may prove to be a traitor.

Li-ti, his wife, wishes to go with him, and weeps the whole day through because we will not permit it. She is not well, and we tell her she will not be really separated from her husband, because, as the poets tell us, people who love, though at a distance from each other, are like two lutes tuned in harmony and placed in adjoining rooms.

When you strike the kung note on one, the kung note on the other will answer, and when you strike the cho note on the one the cho note on the other will give the same sound. They are both tuned to the same pitch, when the influence of the key-note, love, is present.

I took my son apart the other night and said, ”I am thy mother and I want to speak words to thee straight from the heart. Thou art to have the joy of work, and remember the pride of work lies in the thought, 'For me alone is the task.'” I tried to make him understand that praise, glory, and honours are good, but they do not make for long life, and especially in these times it is better to work quietly without attracting too much attention. It is more safe, for ”he who raises himself on tiptoe cannot stand, and he who stretches his legs wide apart cannot walk.”

His father was especially anxious that he be not pierced with the arrow of treachery that poisons the blood and finds the weak spot in the armour of so many of our young men. He told him to keep himself above suspicion, to avoid those entangled in the nets of double dealing of whom one is uncertain, because ”the red glow of the morning sun seems to stain even the pure whiteness of the new-fallen snow.”

Why, Mother-mine, didst thou send the old priest from the temple down here? He abides in the courtyard, squatting on his heels, serving the spirits neither of Heaven nor of earth, but he sits and talks and talks and talks with the women of the courtyards. There are some of them I would fain send to a far-off province, especially Fang Tai, the mother of our gateman.

”A woman with a long tongue is a flight of steps leading to calamity.”

This priest of thine has been quarrelling with her now over the question of the son of Wong Tai, who is accused of being on too friendly terms with some of the leaders of the rebellion. He made the unfortunate remark that perhaps the man was innocent but ”one does not arrange his head-dress under an apricot-tree, nor his foot-gear in a melon patch, if he wishes to be above suspicion,” and this simple remark has called down upon his priestly head the wrath of all the women. I think he will go to the monastery within the city to pa.s.s the night-- at least if he has wisdom equal to his years.

Yesterday I thought that I might make some use of him, and I felt when he was working he would not be stirring up the courtyards. I bade him write the Sage's words upon a scroll of satin for my boy to take with him to his new home. He did it very beautifully, as he is a real artist with the brush. This is the reading of the scroll:

”There are three things for a man to guard against: The l.u.s.ts of the flesh in early years, The spirit of combativeness in middle-age, And ambition as the years go on.

There are three things to command your reverence: The ordinances of Heaven, Great men, and the words of the sages.

There are three times three things to be remembered: To be clear in vision, Quick in hearing, Kindly in expression, Respectful in demeanour, True in word, Serious in duty, Inquiring in doubt, Self-controlled in anger, And just and fair when the chair of success is before your door.”

I made a roll of it and placed it upon his desk, and when he opened it he found within another scroll of silk, the same in colour, size, and finish, written by his most unfilial sisters, which read:

”Remember that thou art young.

What thou dost know is not to be compared, With what thou dost not know.”

It made him angry at first, but I do not know but that the shorter scroll contains the greater wisdom.

I am anxious for this boy of mine, who is starting to sail his s.h.i.+p of manhood across the Broad River of Life in these most perilous times.

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