In later years this communistic scheme was found not to work perfectly, owing, it is said, to the decay of public virtue.  A statesman, named Shangyang, converted the tenure of land into fee simple—­a natural evolution which was, however, regarded as quite too revolutionary and earned for him the execrations of the populace.

The charming simplicity of the above little diagram would seem to have suggested the arrangement of fiefs in the state, in which the irregular feudality of former times became moulded into a symmetrical system.  The sovereign state was in the centre; and those of the feudal barons were ranged on the four sides in successive rows.  The central portion was designated Chung Kwoh, “Middle Kingdom,” a title which has come to be applied to the whole empire, implying, of course, that all the nations of the earth are its vassals.

Laid out with the order of a camp and ruled with martial vigour, the new state prospered for a few reigns. [Page 86] At length, however, smitten with a disease of the heart the members no longer obeyed the behests of the head.  Decay and anarchy are written on the last pages of the history of the House of Chou.

The martial king died young, leaving his infant heir under the regency of his brother, the Duke of Chou.  The latter, who inherited the tastes and talents of Wen-wang, was avowedly the character which the great Sage took for his pattern.  With fidelity and ability he completed the pacification of the state.  The credit of that achievement inured to his ward, who received the title of Cheng-wang, “The Completer.”

Accused of scheming to usurp the throne, the Duke resigned his powers and withdrew from the court.  The young prince, opening a golden casket, found in it a prayer of his uncle, made and sealed up during a serious illness of the King, imploring Heaven to accept his life as a ransom for his royal ward.  This touching proof of devotion dispelled all doubt; and the faithful duke was recalled to the side of the now full-grown monarch.

Even during the minority of his nephew the Duke never entered his presence in other than full court costume.  On one occasion the youthful king, playing with a younger brother, handed him a palm leaf saying, “This shall be your patent of nobility.  I make you duke of such and such a place.”  The regent remonstrated, whereupon the King excused himself by saying, “I was only in sport.”  The Duke replied, “A king has no right to indulge in such sports,” and insisted that the younger lad receive the investiture and [Page 87] emoluments.  He was also, it is said, so careful of the sacred person that he never left on it the mark of his rod.  When the little king deserved chastisement, the guardian always called up his own son, Pechin, and thrashed him soundly.  One pities the poor fellow who was the innocent substitute more than one admires the scrupulous and severe regent.  The Chinese have a proverb which runs, “Whip an ass and let a horse see it.”