The following specimen from Lipai who is deemed the highest poetical genius in the annals of China, may [Page 120] show, even in its Western dress, something of his peculiar talent: 

  ON DRINKING ALONE BY MOONLIGHT[*]

  Here are flowers and here is wine,
  But where’s a friend with me to join
  Hand in hand and heart to heart
  In one full cup before we part?

  Rather than to drink alone,
  I’ll make bold to ask the moon
  To condescend to lend her face
  The hour and the scene to grace.

  Lo, she answers, and she brings
  My shadow on her silver wings;
  That makes three, and we shall be. 
  I ween, a merry company

  The modest moon declines the cup,
  But shadow promptly takes it up,
  And when I dance my shadow fleet
  Keeps measure with my flying feet.

  But though the moon declines to tipple
  She dances in yon shining ripple,
  And when I sing, my festive song,
  The echoes of the moon prolong.

  Say, when shall we next meet together? 
  Surely not in cloudy weather,
  For you my boon companions dear
  Come only when the sky is clear.

[Footnote *:  From “Chinese Legends and Other Poems,” by W. A. P. MARTIN.]

The second emperor, Tai-tsung, made good his claims by killing two of his brothers who were plotting against him.  Notwithstanding this inauspicious beginning [Page 121] he became an able and illustrious sovereign.  The twenty-three years during which he occupied the throne were the most brilliant of that famous dynasty.

At Si-ngan in Shensi, the capital of the T’angs, is a stone monument which records the introduction of Christianity by Nestorians from Syria.  Favoured by the Emperor the new faith made considerable headway.  For five hundred years the Nestorian churches held up the banner of the Cross; but eventually, through ignorance and impurity, they sank to the level of heathenism and disappeared.  It is sad to think that this early effort to evangelise China has left nothing but a monumental stone.

At the funeral of Tai-tsung his successor, Kao-tsung, saw Wu, one of his father’s concubines, who pleased him so much that, contrary to law, he took her into his own harem.  Raised to the rank of empress and left mother of an infant son, she swayed the sceptre after Kao-tsung’s death for twenty-one years.  Beginning as regent she made herself absolute.

A system of civil service examinations which had sprung up with the revival of learning under the Hans was now brought to maturity.  For good or for evil it has dominated the mind of the Empire for twelve centuries.  Now, however, the leaders of thought have begun to suspect that it is out of date.  The new education requires new tests; but what is to hinder their incorporation in the old system?  To abolish it would be fraught with danger, and to modify it is a delicate task for the government of the present day.