complaints were burnt by an inconsiderate woman; thus the world has lost the most extraordinary discoveries. Tsaou's disease grew in the meanwhile worse, he was advised to deprecate the wrath of the idols by instituting sacrifices, but thought with Confucius that these would be of no avail. Finally, seeing his end approaching, after having lived sixty-six years, and for more than thirty laid the empire waste, he called his counsellors and sons, and appointed Tsaou Pei the most intelligent amongst the latter his successor. Advising his numerous concubines to gain a livelihood by making silken shoes, and like Alaric strictly commanding to hide his burial place, the man, who for such a long time had disturbed the world, was laid low in the dust in common with all ordinary mortals. His last moments of existence were passed in anguish, for he beheld the spectres of the murdered empresses all sprinkled with blood standing before his bed. He died as he lived, hardened and unrelenting.

His son, still more ambitious than his father, drove the weak einperor Heen te from the throne, and sat himself upon the dragon's seat. Yet, though this measure was suggested by his creatures, the majority of the people were highly displeased, and heaven and earth. combined to execrate this usurpation (A. D. 220). In the same year Kung Ming forced the king of Han to declare himself emperor. Though he ascended with great reluctance the throne, yet, once in possession of unlimited power, the yielding and docile prince became obstinate and domineering. Notwithstanding the most urgent remonstrances, he declared war against the king of Woo, and suffered defeat upon defeat. At the very commencement of this campaign, Chang Fei, the second of the trio who were the leading characters under Ling te, was assassinated by some ruffians. This as well as the utter discomfiture of his troops preyed so much upon his spirits, that he became dangerously ill. He freely confessed his errors, and asked forgiveness from his ministers. His mind was full of evil forebodings of futurity. He therefore appointed Kung Ming regent during the minority of his son, and in fact put upon this faithful servant the whole heavy burthen of the empire. The deathbed scenes are told in the most pathetic language, and are worthy of the most attentive perusal. (A. D. 223.)

This is the period during which Kung Ming shone with a lustre not eclipsed by any other statesman who held the helm of the empire. Our author passes the highest eulogiums upon this wonderful man, but does not ascribe all the praise to his sagacity which was naturally very great. Kung Ming was a stargazer, and read the coming events

in the firmament of heaven. Quite certain of futurity, and knowing the course of things by intuition, he stood always prepared against every emergency.

The news of the emperor's death, on reaching Tsaou Pei, spread the most lively joy throughout the court. A council of state was im. mediately summoned, and the annihilation of the new Han dynasty, which in history bears the name of the How Han (After Han)—resolved upon. A most comprehensive plan to this end was immediately arranged. The armies of Wei were to penetrate the northern frontiers, whilst the king of Woo attacked the east; the Sefan (a Tibetan tribe) from the west, and the Burmans or Laos (we are uncertain which nation) from the south. This measure was most faithfully executed, and within less than two months more than a million of hostile warriors crossed the frontiers of Han.

Messenger after messenger arrived to bring the most dismal news; the whole nation was in a state of consternation and expected its inevitable ruin to be near at hand. There was only one man who seemed not to care for the approaching downfall of the kingdom, he lived in ease and comfort whilst all were trembling and gathering their last strength for a desperate resistance; this was Kung Ming. He would not even admit the military officers to an audience in order to concert measures for the defense of the country, but appeared to have fallen into a state of lethargy from which nothing could recall him. It was no doubt his wish to rouse the spirit of the nation by the sight of fearful danger, and to let every man fight for his own life and property, which made him so long defer the execution of his mature plans. Within less than twenty-four hours the armies for the defense of the country were already in full march; the vain glorious king of Woo was to be gained by an embassy; against the prince of Wei the best generals were dispatched; and the regent himself faced the barbarians. This complicated campaign is described in a masterly manner, and the extraordinary feats of prowess and wisdom displayed by Kung Ming are so well related, that we have never yet found aught in any other Chinese history which could be compared to this. In overcoming the Burmans, Kung Ming used less force than art to convince them of the impossibility of resistance. Seven times he took the king prisoner, and seven times he released him. Such conduct gained the heart of the barbarians, and they became firmly attached to the great general. When the troubles in the west and south were stilled, Kung Ming bent all his strength upon defeating the armies of Wei. In this enterprize he was only partially successful, and he had to accuse

himself before his master and ask his dismissal on account of the blunders he had committed. Such magnanimous conduct touched the emperor of Han to the very quick, and he reinstated his skillful general in all his former dignities. The emperor of Wei perceived very soon, that as long as Kung Ming remained at the head of the ariny, he could never conquer Han. He therefore prevailed upon the weak prince his master, by means of artful insinuations, to recall his faithful servant. Twice this happened, and the emperor was again forced to give him back his commission, and beg him to protect the country. Having roused the jealousy of the king of Woo to engage in a new war against the usurper, he amused the enemy with sundry maneuvres, but could not induce them to engage in battle. Unforeseen misfortunes weighed very heavily upon his mind. Under these circumstances he read in the stars, that his end was approaching and prepared himself for death. Full of the important charge he had hitherto held, he gave his dying commands, and departed this life in the very eve of battle. The hostile army only rejoiced, whilst all the country wept as if a father had died. Of this enthusiasm the commander-in-chief availed himself, and, having dressed up the corpse of Kung Ming in his customary grotesque garb, he put the same on a chariot at the head of the troops. The enemies were dismayed and fled in the utmost consternation, whilst the soldiers of Han braved all dangers and obtained a most complete victory over the army of Wei.

With the decease of this great man, another period commences. The downfall of the Han state was from this moment sealed. Scarcely had the regent closed his eyes, when the generals of his army rose upon each other, whilst the prince, unconcerned about the dreadful events which daily happened, spent his life in security amongst his women. The rulers of Wei, instead of taking advantage of this state of things, fell into the same vices as the emperor of Han, and designing military leaders treated them just in the same manner as their grandsire Tsaou Tsaou had treated Heën te. In the meanwhile the arms of Wei proved victorious; the pusillanimous emperor of Han hemmed in on every side was obliged to abdicate the throne in favor of his rival, and the state of Woo could no longer stop the irresistible torrent. There was only one man who rejoiced at the prostrate state in which the empire was thrown, and this was the prince of Tsin, the commander-in-chief of the Wei forces. He no longer conquered for his master, whom he despised in his heart, and whom finally he deposed, but he strove for his own aggrandizement. In this endeavor he proved very successful, so that he saw himself, A. D. 264, sole master

and maintained the sway for himself and his posterity during a period

of four generations.

The passages which describe the capture of capitals, the triumphs of the victors, the general terror which preceded their march, their stratagems, the cowardice of the rulers, are worthy of the most attentive perusal, and are really fine specimens of Chinese genius. The nearer the author approaches the great catastrophe, the more powerful the language and the greater the pathos. Nobody can rise from the perusal without retaining a lasting impression of the events, which have rapidly passed before his eyes and are wound up in the grand result-universal monarchy.

The further we have proceeded in the perusal of the work, the more pleasure we have found in knowing the details. There is something forbidding in the many names both of men and places, so that the mind becomes quite bewildered. Several chapters are very barren of interest and abound in repetitions, whilst others contain nothing but numberings, and marches, and countermarches of armies. But whenever the author relates domestic scenes, or leaves the field of battle to introduce his readers into the palace and council of the princes, his raciness appears to the greatest advantage, and the inore we enter with him into particulars, the greater the beauties of diction we discover.

The work may pass as a model of style for historical writings, but can by no means serve as a pattern for all kinds of composition. Highly descriptive passages of nature are scarcely anywhere to be found, it is a record of men as they were in those times with all their passions and vices. The same phrases often occur again and again, and the book is more remarkable for terseness than copiousness. The sentences are neatly turned, euphony is nowhere neglected, but the writer is far more intent upon giving original thoughts than smooth and well turned phraseology, and in this particular he differs from his countrymen in general.

The Chinese student will find at the head of each chapter explanatory notes of the foregoing one, and moreover many remarks inserted between the text, whereby his attention is arrested and his mind is led to ponder upon the exquisite beauties of the tale. When he has attentively perused the work, let him decide, whether the editor was too profuse of his praises, or whether he has kept within proper bounds. We are certain that nobody who has any taste in Chinese composition, will dissent from the generally received opinion, that the San Kwo Che is one of the best productions of the Chinese.

ART. II. Notices of Natural History; 1, the funghwang or phœ

nix; 2, the lung or dragon; and 3, the kwei or tortoise. Taken from Chinese authors.

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1. It will not be necessary to spend much of our time in describing the three remaining animals which the Chinese place at the head of the other divisions of animated nature, namely, the phoenix, the dragon, and the tortoise, inasmuch as they have not, excepting the latter, that claim of probability and interest which the unicorn possesses. A few notices of them will not, however, be amiss; for all are the source of so many comparisons and allusions in Chinese writings, that some knowledge of them is useful to a foreign reader in under. standing the metaphors derived therefrom. The funghwang is the phonix of Chinese writers, and, like its counterpart in Arabian story, is adorned with everything that is beautiful among birds. The etymology of the name implies that it is the emperor of all birds; and as is the unicorn among quadrupeds, so is the phoenix the most honorable among the feathered tribes. It is described by one author, as resembling a wild swan before, and a unicorn behind; it has the throat of a swallow, the bill of a fowl, the neck of a snake, the tail of a fish, the forehead of a crane, the crown of a mandarin drake, the stripes of a dragon, and the vaulted back of a tortoise. The feathers have five colors, which are named after the five cardinal virtues, and it is five cubits in height; the tail is gradated like Pandean pipes, and its song resembles the music of that instrument, having five modulations. It appears only when reason prevails in the empire, hiding itself at other times; and two are never seen at once; when it flies, a train of small birds always attends it. Like the kelin it is so benevolent, that it will not peck or injure living insects, nor tread upon living herbs; it alights only upon the woo-tung tree (the Dryandra cordifolia, a favorite tree among the Chinese), feeds only on the seeds of the bamboo, and quenches its thirst only at the sweet fountains.' To this account, another writer adds, 'that this bird resides in the Vermilion hills, where it eats and drinks at its pleasure, waiting for the time when peace shall pervade the empire. There are four sorts which differ only in the color of their plumage.'

The Arabian phoenix was described as a kind of eagle, but the Chinese represent their bird as belonging to the gallinaceous family;