about equally balanced, and there is no reason to suppose that he favoured either at the expense of the other. ead One of the most significant facts in all Chinese History is this-that when both Taoism and Confucianism flourished in emulation side by side, the Empire prospered; when one or the other obtained the mastery -the Empire shrank and fell to decay. Confucianism was the ethical system of the North, Taoism the idealist philosophy of the South. After T'ai Tsung, Taoism gradually triumphed over its rival and weakness and anarchy were the result. Under the Ming dynasty, in 1421, Confucianism finally prevailed and the Empire became an easy prey to the Manchu. As I have pointed out in a footnote to Mr H. G. Wells's 'The Outline of History,'

'both systems carried within them the seeds of decay. Taoism, divorced from the affairs of everyday life and the education of the people, lost itself in art, literature, and mythology. Confucianism added layer after layer of hard shell about the inner organism of social life.'

It died to music and ceremonies-music ceremonialised and ceremonies whose very meaning had been lost. But T'ai Tsung held himself above the rivalries of creeds and sects. His capital, the city of Chang-an, was open to Nestorians, Manichæans, and Mahommedans alike. In 634, Christianity was first introduced by the Syrian monk Olopun. In 638, the first Christian church was built, and we are able to catch a glimpse of a master mind in one of the most remarkable decrees ever issued from the throne rooms of the world.

'The truth does not always appear under the same name, nor is divine inspiration always embodied in the same form. Religions vary in various lands, but the underlying principle of all is the salvation of mankind.'

And at the end of the decree is found the following summary of Christianity:

Carefully examining the object of this doctrine, we find that it is profoundly mysterious and associated with striving through the power of the inner life (Lao Tzu's Wu Wei); it establishes the important points of our birth and growth, it helps animals and it profits mankind; therefore, it should circulate wherever in the world we hold sway.'

T'ai Tsung's deathbed counsel to his son runs as follows: Be just, but above all things be humane, rule your passions, and you will easily rule the hearts of your subjects. Your good example will do far more than rigorous enactments would to make men fulfil their duties. Be sparing with punishments, generous with rewards, never put off till to-morrow a boon you could confer at once, but postpone the infliction of punishments till you are absolutely certain they are deserved.

It took T'ai Tsung five years of incessant fighting to subdue eleven independent and rebellious kingdoms before the unity of China was accomplished and the victor returned to lay the spoils of conquest humbly at his father's feet. Thus, the pageant of the T'angs begins with horsemen-cavalry galloping to Chang-an, bridle to bridle, squadron on squadron, the sun glinting on war-worn armour, on the jewelled scabbards of their leaders, and their nodding plumes. As they approach the triple walls of the capital, horses are reined in and the headlong gallop steadies into the rhythmic trot of many thousands; while from the drum-towers and belltowers of the watching city break the clash and clamour of uncontrollable forces, of joy, delight, and triumph, and the rapture of sunlight after years of darkness. This great impetus of a young indomitable leader and his gallant horsemen will surge on through three centuries till its strength is spent, its numbers decimated by treachery and ambush; finally, a little band of phantoms vanishes into the dust of Chinese chronicle or rides into the twilight tapestries of romance. And how pitiful is the inglorious end when the last of twenty Emperors, a trembling boy, humbly resigned the throne to a common adventurer, and the great seal of the T'angs fell into hands stained with his brothers' blood!

'By using a mirror of brass,' said T'ai Tsung, 'you may see to adjust your hat; by using antiquity as a mirror you may learn to foresee the rise and fall of Empires; but by using men as a mirror, you may see your own merits or demerits.' The Emperors who followed him observed the first and largely neglected the other two of these counsels, and so the T'ang dynasty faded out. I think I have said enough to show that T'ai Tsung was anything but a mere military adventurer,

a Napoleon of the Far East. All his recorded sayings are those of a wise and far-seeing statesman, with a deep knowledge of human nature. Equally well-balanced in body and mind his chief recreations were sport and literature. Old Age Pensions and the Endowment of Motherhood, 'things whereof,' as Mrs Grantham points out, Europe is only just taking thought,' were two of his enactments. No conqueror knew better than he that 'an Empire founded on horseback cannot be governed on horseback.' Near his palace he built an immense library containing over 200,000 books. He had special rooms adjoining where he could meet scholars and discuss literary matters with them. Often he would work there from dawn to dusk. He founded government schools where arithmetic, law, penmanship, and other subjects were taught. From these schools boys of exceptional ability might pass on to the Imperial College where Physics, Oratory, and knowledge of Official Documents were included in the curriculum. From these young men the civil servants of China were chosen, and degrees were conferred on those who passed the examinations. T'ai Tsung established a standing army and a militia for home service. Under its protection the peasant was able to till his fields in safety, and the sense of national security quickened the whole body of the nation into action. So this great peaceful Empire expanded in spirit as it fostered the unity in diversity of its natural forces, of Confucianism and Taoism, sanity in politics and idealism in art and literature, of guardianship over the freedom and security of its myriad workers within.

And simultaneously attracted by its fame and prosperity embassies poured into it from all quarters; from India, Nepal, and Thibet; from the Greeks whose ambassador reached the Court in 640 A.D.; from Persia; from the first Caliphs of the new Mahommedan Power, Omar and Othman, and the neighbouring kingdoms of Corea and Japan. Chinese education exacted its tribute from the students of all nations. About 5000 young men of foreign birth studied in the schools of Chang-an. 'Fleets of Chinese junks sailed up the Persian Gulf, whilst thousands of Arab merchants settled in Hangchow and other coastal cities.' The Empire under

the first Emperors of the T'ang extended from the Yellow Sea to the Aral Sea in Turkestan, and from Siberia to Cambodia, the southernmost point in China. It was divided by T'ai Tsung into ten provinces; while the outside dependencies, such as Mongolia, the Turkestans and Corea (which for a time became subject to China), and Tonquin, were governed by six viceroys.

In taking leave of T'ai Tsung we may pause for a moment to look back at the scenes of triumph and the cities. of his inspiration. Fenellosa in his epochs of Chinese and Japanese Art has painted this glowing picture of his time which may well linger in the mind when dates, facts, and numbers become fluid and go drifting into some forgotten backwater.

'We have seen,' says Fenellosa, 'that the root of the exceptional genius of T'ang lay in the variety of its sources, and in their fertile reaction upon each other when brought into contact at a common capital. The wealth, too, of the Empire had never before reached such height. Buildings were grander, stuffs and clothing more exquisite, food more plentiful, the people happier, engineering works more stupendous, than in the Han dynasty or in any preceding period of Chinese history. The Eastern capital, Loyang in the ancient peaceful seats of the Hoangho valley, became now rebuilt upon a scale which accommodated more than two million people. Great public gardens and museums gave recreation to the people. The private palace gardens were raised on mighty walled terraces, pavilion crowned, that enjoyed far prospect over lakes and bays-or sunk into cool shady wells where plum trees shot their scaly arms into the shape of dragons, and ancient pines had been trained to writhe like serpents through the interstices of water-worn stone. Great jars of hard paste pottery covered with creamy glazes and tiles of deeper hue, probably purple and yellow. gave brilliancy to the landscape architecture. Pavilions rose above granite and marble foundations in rainbow tier after tier; great banqueting halls, and blue silk awnings, and heavy portières, shot with golden thread, adding alike to the exalted coolness and the aesthetic transitions. Indeed, in these great days of early T'ang, China had become the metropolitan garden of Asia, surpassing the splendours of Khan or Caliph at Samarcand and Damascus and Bagdad.'

...

It should not be inferred, however, from this picture

that T'ai Tsung was a kind of oriental satrap, intent, as his predecessor Yang Ti of the Sui dynasty had been, upon hanging gardens and pleasure towers and Arabiannight palaces tunnelled deep into the ground, lest the sun should be put to shame by scenes of orgy that were better hidden. Not for himself, but for the symbol of power he represented, he built and planned according to the revenues and prosperity for which he was primarily responsible. With Confucius he recognised that 'to govern a country of a thousand chariots there must be reverent attention to business, and faithfulness, economy in expenditure, and love for the people.' His own words are almost an echo of the Master's teaching:

The Welfare of the Empire depends upon the People; an Emperor who robs his people to enrich himself, is like a man who cuts off his own flesh to supply his stomach. How many Emperors have owned their Ruin to their Ambition! What expenses were they at to maintain it! And what heavy taxes were laid upon the poor to supply them! When the people are racked and oppressed, what becomes of the Empire ? Is it not upon the brink of destruction, and what is the Emperor if the Empire perish?'

And so, applying the lessons of history to himself, he adds, 'These are the reflexions that served to regulate my desires.' After a reign of twenty-three eventful years he died and was succeeded by his son, Kao Tsung.

Not even the pitiful weakness of this Emperor, who surrendered the reins of Government to a woman, could check the impetus of the national destiny started by his father. Too well had T'ai Tsung used the mirror of men; his great generals swept on to victory, the commerce of China expanded, and the golden dawn of Chinese literature began with Wang Po and Ch'en Tzu-ang. Corea was added to the Empire-Mongolia was pacified, that ancient enemy of China, the Western Turkic tribe, was finally subdued, and after five years of good intentions, Kao Tsung paid his fatal visit to a Buddhist nunnery where one of his father's former favourites, Wu Chow, was interned. Attracted by her remarkable beauty he had her removed to his palace, where shortly afterwards she became his Empress. Gradually he