“It is easier to escape a splinter that you see, than a beam that you don’t see.” “Familiarity takes the height off a mountain.” “Wit may purchase wealth, but wealth can not purchase wit.” “Originality can go so far back that it becomes aboriginality.” “Your parents died when you were a child,” is the bitterly sarcastic way in which the Chinese express that one has no manners, or up-bringing. The following repartee is credited to almost every traveled Chinese official, but it originated in the imagination of an Occidental wit, because the Chinese consider manners and forgiveness the first rule of public conduct. Official Bu was asked by an impertinent Occidental why he wore such a ludicrous appendage as a queue. “Why do you wear a mustache?” asked the Oriental, “Because I’ve such an awful mouth.” “I thought so, from your first question,” was the Oriental’s rejoinder. Yu Yuen, a satirist of 400 B. C., when China was divided into many states, ruled by inferior princes, wrote in defense of the able prime ministers who were trying to save the states: “I, too, am glad I can not fall to the intellect and moral level of princes.” Chang Jo Hu, A. D. 800, with Isaiah-like emphasis reminds even long-lived proud China that “There’s no rock of empire man shall make, But tooth and tide of time shall shake.” He also wrote: “The waves of the Yangtze that pass to the sea, Nevermore shall return to me; So, friend of my soul, ’tis with me and with thee.” Po Chuh Ih, A. D. 772, once president of the Board of War, and later an exile, wrote some Scott-like lays, including the _Never Ending Wrong_, and the famous _Lute Girl_, which is full of silver music coming over a moon-lit lake. At the lake he meets the lute-girl, once a court favorite, but now old and deserted. The poet does not try to disguise the truth. He says: “The eye of Beauty wins a monarch’s soul, And wrecks an Empire, too.” Tai Chen, a poet, speaking for the Emperor Ming Huang, who is pursued to Mount Omi, in Szechuen, by the rebel, An Lu Shen, writes: “The star of empire pales before the morning beams of conquering foes.” Some of his lyrics show pretty conceits like: “The pansies are faces of loves that have died.” His _Ruined Home_ reads like parts of Solomon’s wisdom.