The people of Ch‘ao-chou were sunk in ignorance. Han Wên-kung appointed a superintendent of education; and ever since, their city has been a centre of learning, a rival to the classic seats of old. To this day its inhabitants are known for their peace-loving ways; for their faith in the maxim that the “true doctrine inspires lofty natures with love for their fellow-men, inferior natures with respect for the authority of government.” And so, when they eat or drink, a portion is always devoted to the memory of their Master. Or if flood, or drought, or pestilence come upon them, it is to him they betake themselves for aid. But his shrine was behind the chief magistrate’s yamên, and inconvenient of access; and an application to the Throne to build a new shrine had been refused, when a Governor came to rule over the district whose administration was modelled upon that of his great predecessor. This popular official issued a notice that if the people themselves wished to erect a new shrine, they were at liberty to select a suitable site at a given spot; and within the year the building was completed.
Then some one said, “Han Wên-kung was banished to this spot, a thousand miles from his home, with no hope of return. If knowledge is given to him after death, it will hardly be with feelings of affection that he will look back upon his sojourn at Ch‘ao-chou.”
“Not so,” I replied. “Our Master’s spirit pervades space as water pervades the earth: there is no place where it is not. The Ch‘ao-chou people trusted and loved him more than others, and still venerate his spirit which hovers over their soil. Fancy, if a man boring for water should strike a spring and say, ‘Water is here!’”
“Han Wên-kung’s full designation is given in the inscription; and as the inhabitants of Ch‘ao-chou desired me to prepare a record to be engraven on stone, I indited the following lines to the memory of this great man:―
He grasped with his hand the glory of the sky;
- ↑ The star α Lyrae.
