The story goes on to say that the devil-girl killed the young man, ripping him open and tearing out his heart; after which the priest engaged in terrible conflict with her.  Finally—­and here we seem to be suddenly transported to the story of the fisherman in the Arabian Nights—­she became a dense column of smoke curling up from the ground, and then the priest took from his vest an uncorked gourd, and threw it right into the midst of the smoke.  A sucking noise was heard, and the whole column was drawn into the gourd; after which the priest corked it up closely, and carried it away with him.

The search for the elixir of life was too fascinating to be readily given up.  It was carried on with more or less vigour for centuries, as we learn from the following Memorial to the Throne, dating from the ninth century A.D., presented by an aggrieved Confucianist:—­

“Of late years the court has been overrun by a host of ‘professors,’ who pretend to have the secret of immortality.

“Now supposing that such beings as immortals really did exist—­would they not be likely to hide themselves in deep mountain recesses, far from the ken of man?  On the other hand, persons who hang about the vestibules of the rich and great, and brag of their wonderful powers in big words,—­what are they more than common adventurers in search of pelf?  How should their nonsense be credited, and their drugs devoured?  Besides, even medicines to cure bodily ailments are not to be swallowed casually, morning, noon, and night.  How much less, then, this poisonous, fiery gold-stone, which the viscera of man must be utterly unable to digest?”

Thus gradually Taoism lost its early simple characteristics associated with the name of Lao Tzu.  The Tao developed by Chuang Tzu, in the light of which all things became one, paved the way for One Concrete Ruler of the universe; and the dazzling centre, far away in space, became the heaven which was to be the resting-place of virtuous mortals after death.  Then came Buddhism, with its attractive ritual and its manifold consolations, and put an end once for all to the ancient glories of the teachings of Lao Tzu.

The older text-books date the first appearance of Buddhism in China from 67 A.D., when in consequence of a dream the reigning Emperor sent a mission to the West, and was rewarded by obtaining copies of parts of the Canon, brought to China by Kashiapmadunga, an Indian priest, who, after translating a portion into Chinese, fell ill and died.

But we know now that Buddhist monks had already appeared in China so early as 230 B.C.  The monks were thrown into prison, but were said to have been released in the night by an angel.

Still, it was not until the third or fourth century of our era that the new religion began to make itself appreciably felt.  “When this came about, there ensued a long and fierce struggle between the Buddhists and the Taoists, resulting, after alternating triumphs and defeats on both sides, in that mutual toleration which obtains at the present day.