Page:Leaves from my Chinese Scrapbook - Balfour, 1887.djvu/110

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LEAVES FROM MY CHINESE SCRAPBOOK.

The Power of Faith.

A certain Mr. Fan had a son named Tzŭ-hua, who enjoyed a good reputation for his chivalrous and generous disposition. He was, in fact, highly respected in his native state, and much beloved by the Prince of Ts'in. He held no office, but his rank was superior to that of the three Ministers of State. All on whom he looked with favour received honours from the Prince; all of whom he spoke disparagingly were forthwith ruined men; all who had the run of his mansion were received as equals at Court. Now, among the hangers-on of Fan Tzŭ-hua some were clever and some were stupid, and these were constantly intriguing against each other. Some were influential, and others powerless; and these vilified and sought to injure each other. But although they thus attempted to ruin and discredit one another in the eyes of Fan Tzŭ-hua, he himself bore no grudge against any one of them; on the contrary, he amused himself day and night in watching them, as though it was all a game or comedy; and this view of the matter soon became general all over the state.

One day Huŏ Sheng and Tzŭ Po, the most honoured of Mr. Fan's guests, went out and wandered far from the town through a wild country place. Passing a night under the roof of a rustic watchman named Shang Ch'iu-k'ai, the two beguiled the hours by conversing upon the fame and power of Tzŭ-hua, saying how he held men's lives and deaths in his hands, and how he could enrich the poor and impoverish the rich. Now, Shang Ch'iu-k'ai had, up till then, been poor to the very verge of starvation; and secreting himself outside the window of his two lodgers, he listened to their conversation. What he heard had such an effect upon him that he forthwith armed himself with a basket, and went off to ask the loan of some grain at Tzŭ-hua's door. Now, Tzŭ-hua's protégés were all persons of considerable rank, who dressed in silken robes, drove showy carriages, dawdled along in a lordly style, and stared superciliously at others; and when these gentlemen set eyes on Shang Ch'iu-kai, with his weight of years, his feeble appearance, his swarthy, withered face, and