Page:Encyclopædia Britannica, Ninth Edition, v. 5.djvu/673

] own intellectual or social position. &ldquo;The dullard,&rdquo; &ldquo;the little one,&rdquo; and &ldquo;the man of low degree,&rdquo; are terms most frequently used in this sense, while nu tsai, or &ldquo;slave,&rdquo; is the self-assumed epithet adopted by ministers when addressing the emperor. In like manner the speaker's relations and personal belongings are spoken of as &ldquo;the little,&rdquo; &ldquo;the mean,&rdquo; and &ldquo;the cheap.&rdquo; The respect due to age guides on the other hand the choice of expressions employed towards the person addressed, who, instead of being called by the second person of the pronoun, hears himself addressed as &ldquo;Master,&rdquo; &ldquo;Old Gentleman,&rdquo; or &ldquo;Senior.&rdquo; The holders of the lower offices, such as the Heen or district magistrates, are addressed by law as Lao ye or &ldquo;Old Fathers;&rdquo; as they rise, they become Ta lao ye &ldquo;Great Old Fathers;&rdquo; and when they reach the higher ranks, such as the governors of the provinces, they are called Ta jin &ldquo;Great Men.&rdquo; In the same spirit it is customary to speak of the belongings of another as being &ldquo;worshipful,&rdquo; &ldquo;honourable,&rdquo; or, &ldquo;august.&rdquo; History is vague as to the date when the Chinese adopted the numerals they at present employ; but as we find reference to them in the Book of History, it is fair to infer that they were in existence before the 6th century B.C. They are 17 in number, and are these: yih, &ldquo;one,&rdquo; urh, &ldquo;two,&rdquo;  san, &ldquo;three,&rdquo;  sze, &ldquo;four,&rdquo;  woo, &ldquo;five,&rdquo;  luh, &ldquo;six,&rdquo;  tseih, &ldquo;seven,&rdquo;  pa, &ldquo;eight,&rdquo;  kew, &ldquo;nine,&rdquo;  shih, &ldquo;ten,&rdquo;  pih, &ldquo;a hundred,&rdquo;  tseen, &ldquo;a thousand,&rdquo;  wan, &ldquo;ten thousand,&rdquo;  yih, &ldquo;one hundred thousand,&rdquo;  chaou, &ldquo;a million,&rdquo;  keng &ldquo;ten millions,&rdquo; and, kai, &ldquo;a hundred millions.&rdquo; The last four are now very seldom used, the rest are hourly employed. It will be seen that there is no single numeral between ten and one hundred, and the intervening numbers are therefore formed by shih &ldquo;ten&rdquo; in combination with the lower numerals. For example, the numbers between ten and twenty are expressed by shih &ldquo;ten&ldquo; with the addition of the number required. Thus &ldquo;thirteen&rdquo; would be Shih san. The figures between twenty and a hundred are denoted by shih, &ldquo;ten&rdquo; preceded by the other numeral, and in this way  San shih would be &ldquo;thirty.&rdquo; After the explanation given of the manner in which the number, gender, and case of nouns are clearly expressed in composition, it need not be a matter of surprise that by position and the use of particles it is possible to give expression to all the moods and tenses of the verb. Such a fact should not astonish us when it is recollected that, as stated by Marshman, in the case of certain English verbs, such as &ldquo;to cut,&ldquo; position is found equal to the task of forming 211 out of the 215 verbal variations which such verbs undergo, and four only are formed by the addition of terminations to the original monosyllable, namely &ldquo;cuttest,&rdquo; &ldquo;cuts,&rdquo; &ldquo;cutteth,&rdquo; and &ldquo;cutting.&rdquo; As no change, not even the lengthening of a line, or the addition of a dot, can possibly be effected in a Chinese character without entirely altering its meaning, position has to do everything for the Chinese verb, and it accomplishes its mission in two ways, either by stating the time at which the action has taken place, or is about to take place, or by prefixing or suffixing certain words which by their several meanings supply like information. For instance, in the colloquial sentence joo kin ta lai, joo kin, &ldquo;now,&ldquo; indicates that the action is present, and the three characters are to be translated &ldquo;he is coming.&rdquo; But if we were to exchange the joo kin for ming neen, &ldquo;next year,&rdquo; the verb lai will be in the future tense, &ldquo;next year he will come;&rdquo; and if yet once again we say, shang yuĕ ta lai, shang yue meaning &ldquo;last month,&rdquo; the verb will then be in the past tense, and the sentence will run, &ldquo;last month he came.&rdquo; But more frequently the present tense of the verb is not accompanied with any word to denote the time of the action, and indeed the only tense-particles employed are those which serve to explain the past and future tenses. The characters leaou, &ldquo;to complete,&rdquo; and, kwŏ, &ldquo;to pass over,&rdquo; are the commonest of those which are suffixed to denote the first, and  tseang, &ldquo;to take,&rdquo; and  yaou, &ldquo;to want,&rdquo; are the most frequently used as prefixes to mark the second. Thus, ta keu leaou, or ta keu kuŏ, would mean &ldquo;he went,&rdquo; while ta tseang keu or ta yaou keu would be &ldquo;he will go.&ldquo; In every language, as Marshman has pointed out, &ldquo;it will sometimes be found necessary to indicate or declare a thing, to command an action to be performed, to express it as desirable, obligatory, or possible, to represent it as conditional, and to describe it in a general way,&rdquo; and Chinese is no exception to this rule. In the case of the active and infinitive moods, position, which, as we have already seen, has done so much for Chinese grammar, is again equal to the occasion, but the imperative, the optative, and the potential moods all, although not always, have their distinctive signs. The third person of the imperative mood, for instance, is formed in modern Chinese by prefixing a verb meaning either &ldquo;to give&rdquo; or &ldquo;to permit,&rdquo; and answers exactly to our &ldquo;let.&rdquo; heu ta keu is &ldquo;let him go,&rdquo; hew meaning &ldquo;to allow,&rdquo; &ldquo;to permit.&rdquo; The optative mood is formed by the addition of words meaning &ldquo;to wish&rdquo; or &ldquo;to desire,&rdquo; and the potential by the addition of words implying &ldquo;power,&rdquo; &ldquo;duty,&rdquo; or &ldquo;doubt.&rdquo; The above sketch, although necessarily brief, serves to show that by carefully following the laws of Chinese syntax, it is possible to express in Chinese, as exactly as in other languages, all the parts of speech in all their variety of number, gender, case, mood, tense, and person, and therefore every shade of meaning which it is possible to convey by word of mouth. The difficulties of acquiring a knowledge of Chinese have hitherto shared that exaggeration which surrounds the unknown. It is time that the language was better understood, and at this period of the world's history we cannot afford to leave unnoticed a language so ancient as to dwarf into insignificance the antiquity of western tongues, and one which is the solitary medium of communication between 400,000,000 of our fellow-men.

Having thus attempted to trace the growth of the written Chinese character from its first creation as a hieroglyphic to its final development in the more modern ideophonetic form, and also the rules which govern the position of these characters in a sentence, our object will now be to show the use which Chinese authors have made of the characters and of the grammar to which they are subservient. It was obviously necessary to begin with the language, before dealing with the literature, since some of the leading characteristics of the literature are, as is the case in every tongue, plainly traceable to the structure of the language. The words of a sentence are as a piece of clay in the hands of a potter. If they be soft and pliable, that is to say, if they be capable of inflections and of syntactical motion, they may be moulded to express with varying vigour and force the highest fancies and noblest thoughts of an able writer in all the changing beauty of poetic diction or of rhetorical eloquence. But if on the other hand they be destitute of inflexion, and be cramped by inexorable laws of position, which cannot for a moment be departed from, without a sacrifice of sense, the result must be that the literature of which they are the component parts will partake to some extent of their hard unyielding nature. If we turn for a moment to the poetry of ancient Greece and Rome, we find that some of the finest effects have been produced by the power which the inflexional nature 