was born in 1622, and took his first degree in 1641. Though an excellent scholar and a most polished writer, he failed, as many other good men have done, to take the higher degrees by which he had hoped to enter upon an official career. It is generally understood that this failure was due to neglect of the beaten track of academic study. At any rate, his disappointment was overwhelming. All else that we have on record of P'u Sung-ling, besides the fact that he lived in close com- panionship with several eminent scholars of the day, is gathered from his own words, written when, in 1679, he laid down his pen upon the completion of a task which was to raise him within a short period to a foremost rank in the Chinese world of letters. The following are extracts from this record :
" Clad in wistaria, girdled with ivy, 1 thus sang Ch'ii Yuan in his Li Sao. Of ox-headed devils and serpent gods, he of the long nails 2 never wearied to tell. Each interprets in his own way the music of heaven ; and whether it be discord or not, depends upon ante- cedent causes. As for me, I cannot, with my poor autumn firefly's light, match myself against the hob- goblins of the age. 3 I am but the dust in the sunbeam,
1 Said of the bogies of the hills, in allusion to their clothes. Here quoted with reference to the official classes, in ridicule of the title under which they hold posts which, from a literary point of view, they are totally unfit to occupy.
A poet of the T'ang dynasty, whose eyebrows met, whose nails were very long, and who could write very fast.
s This is another hit at the ruling classes. Hsi K'ang, the celebrated poet, musician, and alchemist (A.D. 223-262), was sitting one night alone, playing upon his lute, when suddenly a man with a tiny face walked in, and began to stare hard at him, the stranger's face enlarging all the time. " I'm not going to match myself against a devil ! " cried the musician after a few moments, and instantly blew out the light.
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