Then was King Mu delighted beyond measure, and exclaimed, with a sigh, "Verily the skilfulness of man is on a par with that of the Creator Himself!"
This story is worthy of preservation as a Chinese prototype of Mrs. Shelley's Frankenstein and his horrible monster.[1]
The Two Archers.
There was once upon a time a very celebrated archer named Kan Ying, who no sooner drew his bow than every animal crouched and every bird fell. He had a disciple named Fei Wei, who, having learned archery under him, eventually became more skilful than his master; and Fei Wei, in his turn, had a pupil named Ch'i Chang. . . . Now, Ch'i Chang, having probed the method of his instructor to the uttermost, and gained his enthusiastic praise, reflected within himself that he had only one rival in the world—namely, Fei Wei himself. Thereupon he cast about how he might slay Fei Wei, and meeting him one day in a solitary place, he picked a quarrel with him. The two then shot at one another, but such was the unerring accuracy of each man's aim that their arrows met half-way, and the two points striking together, they fell harmless to the ground without raising a speck of dust. The arrows of Fei Wei gave out first; Ch'i Chang had just one left, and he shot it. Fei Wei replied with a twig of thorn, and again the two met midway. At this juncture the two men burst into tears, threw away their bows, prostrated themselves before each other in the dust, and vowed that they would live as father and son for evermore. Then they swore an oath never to divulge the secret of their skill, and branded it upon their shoulders.
- ↑ How is it, we may be permitted to ask in passing, that nine persons out of ten speak of Frankenstein as the monster? Even Lord Salisbury committed himself in this way a year or so ago.
