Note: This article has been excerpted from a larger work in the public domain and shared here due to its historical value. It may contain outdated ideas and language that do not reflect TOTA’s opinions and beliefs.
From When I Was a Boy in China by Yan Phou Lee, 1887.
Every person in China is in strict subjection to somebody. The child is subject to his parents or guardian. They, in turn, are subject to their parents, who are liable to be called to account by the elders of the clan. The magistrate is considered the father of the people he rules over; and the
Emperor stands in the same relation to his subjects as the father to his children. Women are subject to their fathers or husbands. All are subject to the national laws.
Accordingly obedience and respect, rather than affection, are required of the Chinese child. His home-life, therefore, is constrained, sober and dull. The boy attains to the ideal character only when he habitually checks his affectionate impulses, suppresses his emotions and is uniformly respectful to his superiors and uniformly dignified with his inferiors. Therefore the child is early taught to walk respectfully behind his superiors, to sit only when he is bidden, to speak only when questions are asked him, and to salute his superiors by the correct designations. It would be the height of impropriety for him to mention his father’s name, or call his uncles and elder brothers by their names. (Children call their father “ A-dt” or “A-ye” which corresponds to papa in English. Mamma in Chinese is “ A-ma” The syllable A is prefixed for the sake of euphony or convenient pronunciation. In the same way, we say, “A-suk ” for uncle, “A-ko” for elder brother, “A-ka” elder sister. Cousins on one’s father’s side are reckoned as brothers.)
He must rise from his seat when they approach him. If he is taken to task for anything he has done, he must never contradict, never seek to ex- plain. Such an offence is not easily forgiven and double punishment is likely to immediately overtake the offender. How often have I rued my imprudence in contradicting my parents, uncles or teachers! Often I was but simply trying to give the explanation of seemingly bad conduct. But the Chinese take no explanations from those subject to them. It is better for an accused son, pupil, or servant to suffer punishment in silence although he may be conscious of no wrong doing.
This seems very unreasonable; and, in fact, it does foster sullenness and a spirit of rebellion which fear alone keeps under. But the Chinese deem this method absolutely necessary for the preservation of authority. In every household the rattan stick is always ready to the hand of the majestic wrath of outraged family law.
It is not my intention to represent the Chinese as naturally cruel. They are not. They simply maintain family discipline by customs handed down from one generation to another. Fathers and teachers have undergone the same training. The customs of their ancestors enjoin it, the teachings of Confucius prescribe it, and the laws of the empire arm it with authority.
Indeed, among the lower and less educated classes, we find family discipline less strict than among the higher orders of our people. I happened to be born into the higher middle condition of life. There is no such thing as caste in China, in the sense that caste exists in India. In China, wealth, and literary and official honors ennoble a family and can lift it from a lower to a higher plane. The regulations and government of my family were as rigorous as possible. I lived the years of my childhood in a shrinking condition of mind. Like all youngsters, I wanted to shout, jump, run about, show my resentments, and my affections, give my animal spirits and affectionate impulses full play. But like a colt in training for the harness I was checked and curbed, my tongue was bridled, and my feet clogged, by fear of my elders. My father was a stern man as was his father before him. I remember him vividly by the beatings I got from him.
Yet he was truly good and kind.
Though the times when I required punishment were comparatively rare, I remember a constant sense of dread lest I should do something out of the way of a well-bred Chinese lad. The bamboo rod hung over my head like the sword of Damocles. My mother (who is still living) saved me from its blows many a time by giving me timely warning or by keeping my misdemeanors from my father’s knowledge. But she was not so foolishly indulgent as to spare me when I truly deserved punishment.
Our immediate family consisted of my parents, a brother four years older than I, one two years younger, and myself. I had two sisters who had died before my birth; by the course of nature, let me add, for the horrible practice of female infanticide was in our part of the empire only heard of in stories, and not without a shudder.
I have previously said we occupied a part of my grandfather’s house. The building had only one floor. The accompanying plan describes it:
“A” stands for those spaces over which the roof was open to the sky, and which corresponded to the compluvium in the dwellings of the Romans. There were five of them in our house. Through them came air, wind, and rain. You may easily conjecture that such openings in Chinese houses must be favorite entrances and exits for burglars and thieves. At night there seems to be no protection against such gentry except the wakefulness and bravery of watchmen, who, by striking the hour of night on a piece of bamboo in going the rounds, only warn the burglars to keep out of sight while they are near. The Chinese watchman serves the double purpose of a patrolman and a perambulating clock; and although clocks are in common use, my countrymen have not yet employed bells to toll the hour for the whole city.
If you examine the plan, you will see that there is only one regular entrance to the house. Having passed the door, you will be in the vestibule which opens on the large compluvium by three pairs of doors, all of which are thrown ajar on grand occasions; but ordinarily only a side pair are left open. Having passed them and descended by one step into the compluvium, you have a full view of the audience hall which is decorated and used on great occasions, as New Year’s days, weddings, funerals, birthday celebrations, or for extraordinary events, as the reception of distinguished guests, etc. On either hand are the two wings, library, and men’s living rooms. The only passage to the women’s apartments is through this audience hall. On that side also are three pairs of doors, two of which are usually closed, only the pair on the extreme right being in daily use. A screen stands before this entrance; for the worst thing that can happen is to have male visitors look into the women’s apartments and see the female members of the family.
My grandmother occupied the chamber back of the ladies’ parlor, for that is usually considered the best room on account of its central location. The left wing back was occupied by an uncle and his family. Behind this section of the house was the kitchen and the chambers for servants and daughters of the house. The garden had a well, from which the women drew water. I trust I impress upon you that the house was divided into two portions; the front belonging to the men and the rear to the women. My grandfather’s rule was that no lady of the family should pass the boundary line except on “occasions.”
I make no mention of cellars because there were none. The house-walls were of slate-colored brick, the roof of tiles laid over slats and beams increasing in height from the vestibule to the garden. The rooms were lofty and airy, and but for storms and the winter’s wind would have been comfortable.
As I have before said, the house was plainly furnished. The audience hall was the festival room. A long table in the centre, with interesting vases and curios, stood behind a square one of mahogany. They were flanked by two rows of chairs of the same material, with tea-poys between that served to hold the tea-cups of guests. A couple of easy folding-chairs lined with leather, stood in front. On the walls were water-color paintings and scrolls
Lee, Yan Phou. When I Was a Boy in China. D. Lothrop Company, 1887.
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