ts from authors of all ages, arranged
chronologically, in which the subject in question is discussed. The
range of topics, however, is such that the above does not always
apply--as, for instance, in the biographical section, which consists
merely of lives of eminent men taken from various sources. In the great
encyclopaedia under consideration, in addition to an enormous number of
lives of men, covering a period of three thousand years, there are also
lives of over twenty-four thousand eminent women, or nearly as many as
all the lives in our own _National Dictionary of Biography_. An
original copy of this marvellous production, which by the way is fully
illustrated, may be seen at the British Museum; a small-sized edition,
more suitable for practical purposes and printed from movable type, was
issued about twenty years ago.
Skipping an emperor under whose reign was initiated that violent
persecution of Roman Catholics which has continued more or less openly
down to the present day, we come to the second of the two monarchs
before mentioned, whose long and beneficent reigns are among the real
glories of the present dynasty.
The Emperor Ch'ien Lung (_Loong_) ascended the throne in 1735, when
twenty-five years of age; and though less than two hundred years ago,
legend has been busy with his person. According to some native accounts,
his hands are said to have reached below his knees; his ears touched his
shoulders; and his eyes could see round behind his head. This sort of
stuff, is should be understood, is not taken from reliable authorities.
It cannot be taken from the dynastic history for the simple reason that
the official history of a dynasty is not published until the dynasty
has come to an end. There is, indeed, a faithful record kept of all the
actions of each reigning emperor in turn; good and evil are set down
alike, without fear or favour, for no emperor is ever allowed to get a
glimpse of the document by which posterity will judge him. Ch'ien Lung
had no cause for anxiety on this score; whatever record might leap
to light, he never could be shamed. An able ruler, with an insatiable
thirst for knowledge, and an indefatigable administrator, he rivals
his grandfather's fame as a sovereign and a patron of letters. His one
amiable weakness was a fondness for poetry; unfortunately, for his own.
His output was enormous so far as number of pieces go; these were always
short, and proportionately trivial. No one ever
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