A. Wylie, in his invaluable Notes on Chinese Literature, says, “Works of fiction par excellence are not admitted by the Chinese to form a part of their national literature. Those who have imbibed European ideas on the subject, however, will feel that the novels and romances are too important as a class to be overlooked. The insight they give in the national manners and customs of various ages, the specimens which they furnish of an ever-changing language, the fact of this being the only channel through which a large portion of the people gain their knowledge of history, and the influence which they must consequently exercise in the formation of character, are reasons too weighty to be left out of account, notwithstanding the prejudices of scholars on the subject. Foremost among these in popular estimation is the San Kuo Chih Yen-i (三國志演義). This is a historical novel, in 120 chapters, written by Lo Kuan-chung (羅貫中) of the Yüan dynasty (1260–1341). The plot, which is founded on the historical events immediately succeeding the decadence of the house of Han, is wrought out with a most elaborate complication of details, embracing the period from 168 to 265. Following the course of events from the imbecile reign of Ling Ti of the Han, the tale opens with an account of the insurrection of the ‘Yellow Caps,’ during which Liu Pei (劉備), a descendant of the imperial family, enters into a solemn compact with Kuan Yü (關羽), now the deified Kuan Ti, God of War, and Chang Fei (張飛) to aid each other till death, in their efforts to uphold the falling house. The fortunes of Liu Pei are traced through a series of reverses, till he assumes the royal power, (known afterwards as Chao-Lieh Ti), and the empire became divided into three states Wei, Shu and Wu. Tyranny and bloodshed mark the narrative for nearly a century, till the usurper Tsʻao Mao of the Wei is deposed by his minister Ssŭ-ma Chao, whose son became the consolidator of the empire, and founder of the Tsin dynasty, being the Wu Ti of history.” As a general description of the book, Wylie’s brief note leaves little to be desired; to amplify it would mean an analysis with which I would not weary the reader. I will add, however, that the San Kuo is widely read and very generally known, perhaps, however, better through stage performances than by actual reading. The San Kuo is distinctly eastern, a book adapted for the story-teller; one can almost hear him. It abounds in names and genealogies, which seem never to tire the eastern reader or listener. Happily, English admits pronouns in place of so many strangely-spelt names which ought to appear, and they have been used; and as most persons have at least a tzŭ in addition to the hsing and ming I have tried to lighten the burden on the foreign reader’s memory by using only the hsing or hsing and ming of a man, suppressing his tzŭ except in the case of very well-known characters.