The folk-lore of China

In Short

This book is a scholarly yet accessible collection of observations regarding Chinese popular beliefs, rituals, and superstitions. Originally serialized in the China Review, it draws parallels between Chinese traditions—such as geomancy, ancestor worship, and demonology—and the folk customs of Europe. By juxtaposing these practices, the work suggests that the "myth-making faculty" is a fundamental aspect of human nature, regardless of geography. It has lasted as a significant historical record, capturing a vivid, vanishing slice of Chinese social life seen through the lens of a mid-Victorian observer.

The Story

The narrative begins with a philosophical premise: that the superstitions of the West are not so different from those of the East. The author invites the reader to consider that the Chinese, like their European counterparts, have always sought to appease the invisible forces of nature and the spirits of the departed. This argument is built through a series of thematic chapters that trace the cycle of human existence from birth to death, and beyond into the realms of demons and spirits.

The progression of the book follows the life of an individual. We begin with birth, where the physical characteristics of a child—the shape of the forehead or the position of markings—are interpreted as portents of future wealth, social rank, or suffering. These prognostications carry through adulthood, shaping everything from trade and marriage to the architecture of one’s home. The book describes, for instance, how the "crooked" layout of a traditional Chinese garden is not merely an aesthetic choice but a protective measure, intentionally designed to baffle evil spirits who prefer a straight, easy path.

As the narrative moves toward death, the customs become more elaborate. The author details the use of "cash" coins as tools for divination, allowing the living to consult the dead on family matters. Here, the text highlights a curious cultural convergence: the practice of opening a hole in the roof or window to allow the soul to escape is found in both the Chinese province of Fuhkien and in rural Scotland. These stories are punctuated by accounts of the supernatural, such as the haunting of a man’s home by a disgruntled monkey-ghost or the attempts of officials to "charm" the tidal bores of great rivers using iron plates and arrows.

The latter half of the book delves into the darker, more mysterious territories of demonology and witchcraft. We are introduced to the figures of the exorcist and the spiritualist, who act as intermediaries between the human world and a complex, often unruly, spiritual hierarchy. These chapters explore how crises—such as floods, epidemics, or political upheaval—are interpreted as the manifestations of supernatural interference. The stories culminate in accounts of "fairy" manifestations and tales of dragon-slaying that mirror the legends of St. George, suggesting that these myths are not merely local curiosities, but part of a shared, ancient human heritage. The book concludes with a wide-ranging examination of proverbs and historical records, arguing that Chinese credulity toward marvels is matched by a similar, documented history of wonder and anxiety in the West.

How It Unfolds

The philosophical foundation The author sets the stage by identifying the common root of superstition in all humanity. He argues that the Chinese experience is an important, under-studied field that reflects the same fears and hopes found in European history.

The path of life The text moves into the practical application of belief during major life events. Through the "Rhyme of the Emperor," it explains how physical signs and omens dictate one's destiny from infancy to old age.

The architecture of luck The narrative explores how individuals attempt to manipulate their environment to invite good fortune. This includes the strategic design of gardens to repel spirits and the use of mirrors and charms to protect the health of a household.

Intervention and exorcism The account shifts toward the dramatic, describing how professional exorcists and Taoist practitioners are summoned to deal with demonic possession. It provides detailed descriptions of the sometimes-harrowing rituals used to banish these entities.

Mythic parallels The book concludes by comparing Chinese legends of dragons and meteors to Western counterparts. By listing these historical accounts, the author reinforces his central theme that the human impulse to explain the inexplicable is truly universal.

The People

The book focuses less on individual characters and more on the archetypal figures who embody the social and spiritual fabric of China. The Emperor appears as both a literal ruler and a symbolic figure of destiny; in the "Rhyme of the Emperor," he represents the idealized life of wealth and longevity that the common person hopes to achieve. The Exorcist serves as the necessary professional who navigates the terrifying gap between the living and the spirit world, often employing extreme methods to ensure safety. The Diviner and the Medium are the vital connectors, using tools like the "magic pencil" and sand tables to bring the voices of ancestors and deities into the present. Finally, the Ancestors themselves are central figures; though dead, they remain active participants in family affairs, their desires constantly interpreted through the tossing of coins or the burning of incense. These figures do not evolve as protagonists in a traditional sense, but they remain constant, necessary parts of a society that views the boundary between the material and the spectral as remarkably thin.

In Its Own Voice

The author acknowledges the shared nature of folklore, noting the striking similarity between Chinese and European beliefs regarding the soul:

“Even the superstitious respect accorded to the cock, as capable of being influenced from the unseen world (evidenced by the carrying of a white cock or its paper image on Chinese coffins, so as to allure the soul of the departed to enter it) finds a parallel in western Europe.”

Describing the use of a "magic pencil" to consult spirits, the author provides a vivid account of the mechanical and social nature of these seances:

“Immediately the magic pencil begins to move and the required character appears legibly written in the sand, whereupon all assembled request the spirit to sit on the large arm-chair, whilst the Deity, that is supposed to have conducted him thither, is likewise politely asked to sit down on another chair.”

What It's Really About

At its core, the work is an argument for the essential unity of human thought. By meticulously documenting Chinese customs and anchoring them with references to European folklore, the author challenges the notion that Chinese beliefs are "bizarre" or isolated. Instead, he proposes that superstitions are logical, if non-scientific, responses to the unpredictability of life. The book questions how much of our own "rational" worldview is simply a modern layer over the same ancient impulses that led a Chinese official to fire cannons at a flooding river. It is a study of the human condition—our shared vulnerability in the face of death, disease, and the elements—and the creative, often poetic, systems we invent to impose order upon a chaotic world.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in cultural history, anthropology, or the roots of comparative mythology will find this book deeply rewarding. It offers a rare, ground-level perspective on a China that existed before the rapid modernization of the 20th century, capturing the nuances of daily life, family, and faith. The prose is warm, scholarly, and refreshingly free of modern academic jargon, making it a comfortable read for anyone who enjoys the feeling of peering through a window into another era.

However, a reader must be prepared for the realities of its 1876 origin. The author writes from a Victorian perspective, and while he is genuinely respectful and curious, he occasionally employs the period’s characteristic condescension toward non-Western beliefs. The text is also a compilation of articles, which means it sometimes shifts in tone or organization, and the inclusion of dense footnotes and historical citations can occasionally slow the momentum of the stories. Despite these hurdles, the book remains a fascinating document. What stays with the reader is not just the specific rituals, but the realization that these practices—the hanging of charms, the fear of "evil" dates, the desire to communicate with the dead—are echoes of our own deep-seated anxieties. It is a reminder that we are all, in our own ways, still looking for signs to guide us.