The Seismograph WANG Ho laid the Book of Changes aside. Were his ears deceiving him? It seemed that the bell in the room, in which the earthquake weathercock had been installed, had pealed. No, it could not be. This bell rang only during an earthquake and he would have distinctly felt that. Wang Ho was the night watchman in the Imperial Chancellery for Astronomical and Calendrical Science. In the capital city of Sian, chroniclers recorded the year that today we designate as 138 A.D. Wang Ho came from an influential well-to-do family which was even distantly related to the Imperial dynasty. His teachers had been very satisfied with him when he, had successfully passed the important State examination in the capital. His poem in rhythmic prose had so greatly pleased the strict examiners that they gave him a mark denoting excellence. Therefore the highest State offices were open to him. But this meant that he first had to make good in lower positions. He had worked seven long years under the supervision of experienced masters; the years at the Imperial University had not always been easy. He had spent many nights painting characters on bamboo strips, which he then cut Lit with a knife. In the morning tiny heaps of bamboo chips attested to his industriousness. He had also copied, over and over again, the writings of Confucius and those of his commentators. How lucky that paper existed so that he could so, thoroughly demonstrate his skill in calligraphy. Although hardly a generation had passed since the Chinese had learned to make these yellow sheets out of rags and plant fibers, already there were paper mills everywhere. |