any out-of-the-way lines, it won't matter if the even and uneven tones, and the empty and full words do not pair.'
'Strange though it may appear,' smiled Hsiang Ling, 'I often handle books with old poems, and read one or two stanzas, whenever I can steal the time; and some among these I find pair most skilfully, while others don't. I have also heard that the first, third and fifth lines are of no consequence; and that the second, fourth and sixth must be clearly distinguished. But I notice that there are in the poetical works of ancient writers both those which accord with the rules, as well as those whose second, fourth and sixth lines are not in compliance with any rule. Hence it is that my mind has daily been full of doubts. But after the hints you've given me, I really see that all these formulas are of no account, and that the main requirement is originality of diction.'
'Yes, that's just the principle that holds good,' Tai-yue answered. 'But diction is, after all, a last consideration. The first and foremost thing is the choice of proper sentiments; for when the sentiments are correct, there'll even be no need to polish the diction; it's certain to be elegant. This is called versifying without letting the diction affect the sentiments.'
'What I admire,' Hsiang Ling proceeded with a smile; 'are the lines by old Lu Fang;
'The double portiere, when not raised, retains the fragrance long.
An old inkslab, with a slight hole, collects plenty of ink.
'Their language is so clear that it's charming.'
'You must on no account,' Tai-yue observed, 'read poetry of the kind. It's because you people don't know what verses mean that you, no sooner read any shallow lines like these, than they take your fancy. But when once you get into this sort of style, it's impossible to get out of it. Mark my words! If you are in earnest about learning, I've got here Wang Mo-chieh's complete collection; so you'd better take his one hundred stanzas, written in the pentameter rule of versification, and carefully study them, until you apprehend them thoroughly. Afterwards, look over the one hundred and twenty stanzas of Lao T'u, in the heptameter rule; and next read a hundred or two hundred of the heptameter four-lined stanzas by Li Ch'ing-lieu. When you have, as a first step, digested these three authors, and made them your foundation, you can take T'ao Yuan-ming, Ying, Liu, Hsieh, Yuean, Yue, Pao and other writers and go through them once. And with those sharp and quick wits of yours, I've no doubt but that you will become a regular poet before a year's time.'
'Well, in that case,' Hsiang Ling smiled, after listening to her, 'bring me the book, my dear miss, so that I may take it along. It will be a good thing if I can manage to read several stanzas at night.'
At these words, Tai-yue bade Tzu Chuean fetch Wang Tso-ch'eng's pentameter stanzas. When brought, she handed them to Hsiang Ling. 'Only peruse those marked with red circles' she said. 'They've all been selected by me. Read each one of them; and should there be any you can't fathom, ask your miss about them. Or when you come across me, I can explain them to you.'
Hsiang Ling took the poems and repaired back to the Heng Wu-yuean. And without worrying her mind about anything she approached the lamp and began to con stanza after stanza. Pao-ch'ai pressed her, several consecutive times, to go to bed; but as even rest was far from her thoughts, Pao-ch'ai let her, when she perceived what trouble she was taking over her task, have her own way in the matter.
Tai-yue had one day just finished combing her hair and performing her ablutions, when she espied Hsiang Ling come with smiles playing about her lips, to return her the book and to ask her to let her have T'u's poetical compositions in exchange.
'Of all these, how many stanzas can you recollect?' Tai-yue asked, smiling.
'I've read every one of those marked with a red circle,' Hsiang Ling laughingly rejoined.
'Have you caught the ideas of any of them, yes or no?' Tai-yue inquired.
'Yes, I've caught some!' Hsiang Ling smiled. 'But whether rightly or not I don't know. Let me tell you.'
'You must really,' Tai-yue laughingly remarked, 'minutely solicit people's opinions if you want to make any progress. But go on and let me hear you.'
'From all I can see,' Hsiang Ling smiled, 'the beauty of poetry lies in certain ideas, which though not quite expressible in words are, nevertheless, found, on reflection, to be absolutely correct. Some may have the semblance of being totally devoid of sense, but, on second thought, they'll truly be seen to be full of sense and feeling.'
'There's a good deal of right in what you say,' Tai-yue observed. 'But I wonder how you arrived at this conclusion?'
'I notice in that stanza on 'the borderland,' the antithetical couplet:
'In the vast desert reigns but upright mist.
In the long river setteth the round sun.
'Consider now how ever can mist be upright? The sun is, of course, round. But the word 'upright' would seem to be devoid of common sense; and 'round' appears far too commonplace a word. But upon throwing the whole passage together, and pondering over it, one fancies having seen the scenery alluded to. Now were any one to suggest that two other characters should be substituted for these two, one would verily be hard pressed to find any other two as suitable. Besides this, there's also the couplet:
'When the sun sets, rivers and lakes are white;
When the mist falls, the heavens and earth azure.
'Both 'white' and 'azure', apparently too lack any sense; but reflection will show that these two words are absolutely necessary to bring out thoroughly the aspect of the scenery. And in conning them over, one feels just as if one had an olive, weighing several thousands of catties, in one's mouth, so much relish does one derive from them. But there's this too:
'At the ferry stays the setting sun,
O'er the mart hangs the lonesome mist.
'And how much trouble must these words 'stay,' and 'over, have caused the author in their conception! When the boats made fast, in the evening of a certain day of that year in which we came up to the capital, the banks were without a trace of human beings; and there were only just a few trees about; in the distance loomed the houses of several families engaged in preparing their evening meal, and the mist was, in fact, azure like jade, and connected like clouds. So, when I, as it happened, read this couplet last night, it actually seemed to me as if I had come again to that spot!'
But in the course of their colloquy, Pao-yue and T'an Ch'un arrived; and entering the room, they seated themselves, and lent an ear to her arguments on the verses.
'Seeing that you know so much,' Pao-yue remarked with a smiling face, 'you can dispense with reading poetical works, for you're not far off from proficiency. To hear you expatiate on these two lines, makes it evident to my mind that you've even got at their secret meaning.'
'You say,' argued Tai-yue with a significant smile, 'that the line:
''O'er (the mart) hangs the lonesome mist,'
'is good; but aren't you yet aware that this is only plagiarised from an ancient writer? But I'll show you the line I'm telling you of. You'll find it far plainer and clearer than this.'
While uttering these words, she turned up T'ao Yuean-ming's,
Dim in the distance lies a country place;
Faint in the hamlet-market hangs the mist;
and handed it to Hsiang Ling.
Hsiang Ling perused it, and, nodding her head, she eulogised it. 'Really,' she smiled, the word 'over' is educed from the two characters implying 'faint.'
Pao-yue burst out into a loud fit of exultant laughter. 'You've already got it!' he cried. 'There's no need of explaining anything more to you! Any further explanations will, in lieu of benefiting you, make you unlearn what you've learnt. Were you therefore to, at once, set to work, and versify, your lines are bound to be good.'
'To-morrow,' observed T'an ch'un with a smile; 'I'll stand an extra treat and invite you to join the society.'
'Why make a fool of me, miss?' Hsiang Ling laughingly ejaculated. 'It's merely that mania of mine that made me apply my mind to this subject at all; just for fun and no other reason.'
T'an Ch'un and Tai-yue both smiled. 'Who doesn't go in for these things for fun?' they asked. 'Is it likely that we improvise verses in real earnest? Why, if any one treated our verses as genuine verses, and took them outside this garden, people would have such a hearty laugh at our expense that their very teeth would drop.'
'This is again self-violence and self-abasement!' Pao-yue interposed. The other day, I was outside the
