Chinese medical literature is on a very voluminous scale, medicine having always occupied a high place in the estimation of the people, in spite of the fact that its practice has always been left to any one who might choose to take it up.  Surgery, even of an elementary kind, has never had a chance; for the Chinese are extremely loath to suffer any interference with their bodies, believing, in accordance with Confucian dogma, that as they received them from their parents, so they should carry them into the presence of their ancestors in the next world.  Medicine, as still practised in China, may be compared with the European art of a couple of centuries ago, and its exceedingly doubtful results are fully appreciated by patients at large.  “No medicine,” says one proverb, “is better than a middling doctor;” while another points out that “Many sons of clever doctors die of disease.”

Legend, however, tells us of an extraordinary physician of the fifth century B.C. who was able to see into the viscera of his patients—­an apparent anticipation of the X-rays—­and who, by his intimate knowledge of the human pulse, effected many astounding cures.  We also read of an eminent physician of the second and third centuries A.D. who did add surgery to this other qualifications.  He was skilled in the use of acupuncture and cautery; but if these failed he would render his patient unconscious by a dose of hashish, and then operate surgically.  He is said to have diagnosed a case of diseased bowels by the pulse alone, and then to have cured it by operation.  He offered to cure the headaches of a famous military commander of the day by opening his skull under hashish; but the offer was rudely declined.  This story serves to show, in spite of its marvellous setting, that the idea of administering an anaesthetic to carry out a surgical operation must be credited, so far as priority goes, to the Chinese, since the book in which the above account is given cannot have been composed later than the twelfth century A.D.

CHAPTER VII—­PHILOSOPHY AND SPORT

Chinese philosophy covers altogether too large a field to be dealt with, even in outline, on a scale suitable to this volume; only a few of its chief features can possibly be exhibited in the space at disposal.

Beginning with moral philosophy, we are confronted at once with what was in early days an extremely vexed question; not perhaps entirely set at rest even now, but allowed to remain in suspense amid the universal acceptance of Confucian teachings.  Confucius himself taught in no indistinct terms that man is born good, and that he becomes evil only by contact with evil surroundings.  He does not enlarge upon this dogma, but states it baldly as a natural law, little anticipating that within a couple of centuries it was to be called seriously in question.  It remained for his great follower, Mencius, born a hundred years later, to