PRINCETON, N. J 
 
 Division 
 
 Section.. 
 
 ,.X).S.. t I.O 9 
 
 Number , 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2016 
 
 https://archive.org/details/everydaylifeinchOOduke 
 
THE TOWN OF AMOY FROM KULANGSEU. 
 
EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA 
 
 OR 
 
 SCENES ALONG RIVER AND ROAD 
 
 FUH-KIEN. 
 
 BY 
 
 EDWIN JOSHUA' DUKES. 
 
 WITH A MAP AND ILLUSTRATIONS 
 FROM SKETCHES BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY, 
 
 56 , Paternoster Row; 65 , St. Paul’s Churchyard; 
 and 164 , Piccadilly. 
 
 1885 . 
 
London: r. clay and sons, bread street hill. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 That China is a mysterious problem to all who 
 interest themselves in its affairs is the only excuse for 
 writing another book about it. To the Christian its 
 religious state is a subject to be spoken of with bated 
 breath. To the politician the condition of its govern- 
 ment and people is one of the chronic disturbing 
 elements in his speculations. 
 
 In the following pages the writer ventures to think 
 he has pictured the people of that great and wonderful 
 land in a light in which they have not often been seen 
 by any but a traveller. The endeavour has been to 
 represent China, not from the special point of view of 
 the politician, merchant, or missionary, but simply to 
 describe the scenes of daily life as they appear to one 
 moving to and fro among them. This book has no 
 intention of being profound, nor of explaining every- 
 thing. It is consistent with its title, and presents 
 the reader only familiar sketches. The chapters are, 
 with one or two exceptions, compiled from notes made 
 
VI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 when travelling upon mission journeys, and from letters 
 written to friends in England. It has been the writer’s 
 hope that the effort to portray the Chinese as they 
 are seen in their daily life, may create in the minds of 
 persons interested in the religious welfare of China a 
 more intelligent sympathy with missionary work. 
 
 This strange nation, who win their way to the front 
 rank in commerce, and easily outdo the Hindoo, Malay, 
 and Saxon on their own soil, who have proved them- 
 selves the equals of European statesmen in diplomacy, 
 who persevere steadily and earn a living in the face of 
 every obstacle, taking ‘time for their fulcrum and 
 patience for their lever’ (as Sir John Davis said of 
 them), and who defy climatic differences, living with 
 almost equal ease in the Torrid or Arctic Zone, must be 
 destined to decide much of the future history of the 
 globe. A few years more, and the ‘ Chinese question ’ 
 will be regarded as one to be discussed not merely by 
 Irish obstructionists of cheap labour in California, or by 
 gold-diggers and sheep-farmers in Australia. It will 
 become a great international problem, summoning to 
 its solution the wisdom and resources of the cabinets 
 of Western countries, and calling forth the united 
 efforts of Christendom. Change and movement will 
 be rapid in China, now that they are fairly begun. 
 Outside nations will soon feel the pressure of the 
 unwieldy mass of this Chinese race. The nation so 
 long self-barred from international relations is being 
 
 O O 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Vil 
 
 driven to seek alliances abroad. A people who lately 
 scorned to know where England is, or France, or Russia, 
 is opening its eyes to see prospects of gain beyond its 
 own borders. Already the Chinese are pouring down a 
 human torrent upon the countries and islands of the 
 East. Cambodia, Burmab, Siam, and the entire Malay 
 peninsula show signs of being overrun by the China- 
 man, while tens of thousands are wending their way 
 across the sea to Borneo, Sumatra, Java, Papua, the 
 Philippines, the Celebes, and the Sandwich Islands. 
 More slowly they stream northward, settling down 
 upon the bleak steppes of Asiatic Russia, and the 
 green plains of Tibet, Mongolia, and Manchuria. The 
 unoccupied spaces of the lands of the rising sun lie 
 before them. Peacefully, but resolutely, they are taking 
 possession of sparsely-populated regions. It needs but 
 a little of the spirit of the prophet to foretell that this 
 generation shall not pass till it has seen great events in 
 China. Nor is there any doubt in the minds of any 
 one acquainted with the story of its Protestant missions 
 that, happen what may politically, the Christian Church 
 is now so firmly rooted there that every change will 
 result in the wider opening of the doors for the heralds 
 of the Cross. 
 
 Many of these familiar descriptions of life in China 
 were written at Amoy, in the Fuh-kien province — a place 
 concerning which very little has been said by writers on 
 China. It was the people of that province whom the 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 yiii 
 
 writer almost always had in his mind. Customs and 
 manners differ in certain parts of the land as much as 
 the languages of the southern half, but not enough, it 
 is presumed, to prevent the Fuh-kienese from being 
 typical, for the most part, of the Chinaman of Chili or 
 Quantung, of Kansuh or Chikiang. 
 
 By the kind permission of Mr. James Clarke, the 
 chapter on ‘Feng-shui,’ originally written for the 
 Christian World Magazine , is reprinted here with only 
 a few modifications and additions. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A WALK IN THE STREETS. 
 
 What is a street ? Things suggested, but not said. A heathen temple. 
 * Joss-houses.’ Buyers and sellers in th$ temple. Burden-bearers. 
 A clothier’s advertisement. Wandering in sheep-skins and goat- 
 skins. The bootmaker’s inconsideration for the favourite corn. 
 Restaurants and sweet-stuff shops. Public theatricals. A pictorial 
 genius. A ‘ designing character. ’ Ablutions in public. The 
 omnipresent ‘miracle man.’ The barber. Mandarin procession. 
 Sign-boards and mottoes. ‘No cheating here.’ English pictures 
 in a Chinese street. Having eyes, they see not. On the way to 
 chapel. Comedy and tragedy. Cash, the end and aim of 
 existence ... ... ... ... ... ... ‘ ... pp. 1 — 19 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 TRAVELLING BY ROAD AND RIVER. 
 
 So-called ‘great roads.’ Private ideas concerning road-making. 
 Locomotion in the north. The bye-paths. Somewhat * unequally 
 yoked.’ The ‘one-hoss shay.’ The ‘Pullman car’ of Shanghai. 
 Universal conveyance of Central China. A developed wheelbarrow. 
 Sedan-chair. Chair-bearers. The Chinese * cabby ’ and his ‘ fare. ’ 
 Undue hospitality. ‘ Squeezing ’ the foreigner. A ‘ contested 
 election ’ of chair-bearers. Simple rules of conduct. Travelling 
 
X 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 by water. Passage junks. The mission junk. Shooting the 
 rapids. More exciting than pleasant. Down the North river. 
 Boats and pilots. A trusty leader ... pp. 20 — 41 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 CHINESE INNS. 
 
 An inn. What it is. What it is not. Simple habits of John China- 
 man. Expenses of furnishing. An ‘imperial* hotel. A ‘people’s 
 cafe.* An inhabitant of another sphere. The eternal topic. 
 Refinements of civilization. Foreign ghosts. A laudable desire 
 for information. ‘ In season, and out of season.’ Inns in the 
 north. Sleeping accommodation in the south. What’s in a name ? 
 A night to be remembered, or perhaps forgotten. Multa in 
 parvo. Hindrances to repose. The warming-pan. Names of inns. 
 Entertaining company. Opportunities of Christian work in 
 inns pp. 42 — 61 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE CHINESE NEW YEAR. 
 
 Chinese holidays. No Sabbath. Preparations for 'New Year. The 
 universal birthday. Aged infants. Respect for age. Similarity 
 between the Hebrew and Chinese customs. Winding-up accounts. 
 Fear the gods, honour the king. Crackers. Early matins. The 
 sacrifices. ‘Surrounding the furnace.’ The city on New Year’s 
 morning. Jack is as fine as his master. The Book of Rites. 
 Afternoon calls, and four o’clock tea. New Year’s gifts. The 
 Chinese en f&te. No work for a week. ‘All work and no play 
 makes Jack a dull boy ’ ... ... ... ... pp. 6 2 — 76 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE HABITS AND MANNERS OF JOHN CHINAMAN. 
 
 Adverse views concerning Chinese race. Missionaries the best judges. 
 The buyer sold. Filial piety and respect. ‘ Father-mothers ’ and 
 ‘lion-tigers.’ Moderation of the Chinaman. Claims of rival 
 deities. Courtesy, geniality, hospitality. Burden of the ‘ pro- 
 prieties.’ A Chinaman’s estimate of the English. Confucian 
 ethics. The dark side of Chinese life. Commercial integrity. No 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 xi 
 
 idea of the sacredness of truth. ‘ It is nought, it is nought, saith 
 the buyer,’ &c. Pilfering. A ‘high commission’ court. Unjust 
 judges. Universal immorality. The sphere of woman. Chinese 
 women better off than other Orientals. The ‘ upper ten ’ in 
 China pp. 77—97 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 DIARY OF A MISSIONARY JOURNEY. 
 
 The gospel-boat. A village chapel. An embryo hymnologist. A 
 pastoral visit. A ‘ Sunday out. ’ Providing for a journey. ‘Sold 
 again ! ’ Chinese bridges. Mosquitoes more pressing than polite. 
 Lost on the way. A converted pawn-shop. Early risers. Salt 
 making. An unexpected pleasure. Advanced young women. 
 Small feet. Country worshippers. A prophet’s chamber. The 
 nearer the church, the further from God. Sabbath observance. 
 The ‘city of grace and peace.’ Chapel destroyed by a mob. 
 Dragons and demons guarding the temple. Progress of the work. 
 Note. — Legend of the Great Bridge of Lo-iu ... pp. 98 — 122 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 OVER THE HILLS OF FUH-KIEN. 
 
 Breaking fresh ground. Graves -and monuments. A truly inde- 
 pendent pastor. Self-support in the churches. A model chapel. 
 Varieties of language. A quiet resting-place. Some exquisite 
 scenery. Twelve days in Foochow, the * Happy ’ City. The Episco- 
 pal Methodist Conference. Off again. Changes in temperature. 
 A Chinese feast. Perilous paths. Morning worship. A Sunday 
 in the clouds. Bad inns again. Settling the area of the Amoy 
 language towards the north. Utter callousness of the heathen 
 to Christian doctrine. Literally, a China town. A gruesome 
 sanctuary. Computation of distance. There’s no place like 
 home pp. 123 — 14 4 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FEN G-SHUI : THE BIGGEST OF ALL BUGBEARS. 
 
 What Feng-shui is. Feng-shui doctors. Unquiet spirits. Fixing a 
 site for the last home. Fair breezes and foul. Current influences. 
 Disturbing elements. Use of pagodas. An international quarrel. 
 
Xll 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The spirits object to railways and telegraphs. A haunted chapel. 
 Unsettled remains. ‘Potted Chinaman.’ The autocrat at the 
 sepulchre. Physician, heal thyself ! The old love and the new. 
 Opening up of coal-mines. Probable effects of development of the 
 resources of China pp. 145 — 159 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. 
 
 Reverence for education. Chinese literature. Its ethical and moral 
 excellence and influence. Signification of the words ‘learning’ 
 and ‘ education.’ Men of letters. How many can read? Respect 
 for the written character. ‘ Fragments of science.’ Examinations 
 the road to prosperity. A boys’ school. The village dominie. 
 College life. Vain repetitions. What subjects taught. Misleading 
 notions as to academical degrees. Viceroy Yeh on preparation for 
 official position. Men of one idea. Conferring degrees. Persever- 
 ing candidates. ‘Purchasing to themselves a good degree.’ Signs 
 of approaching change. English-speaking Chinese. Newspapers 
 in China. The broad end of the wedge is getting in pp. 160 — 180 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A BUDDHIST MONASTERY. 
 
 Heavenwards, but not to heaven. Buddhist monks, their origin and 
 occupation. The ‘ voluntary system ’ ad nauseam. Plan of 
 Kushan. The local deities. The ‘ vanities of the heathen. ’ 
 Leisurely printers. A very holy brother. Buddha’s tooth. How 
 big was Buddha? A Buddhist ‘Zoo.’ ‘Preserved fish.’ A 
 story to be whispered. The tolling bell. ‘ Where nature fails, 
 art steps in.’ ‘I went away from there.’ Buddhist worship. 
 A musical service. Forty stripes save one on popery pp. 181 — 195 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 CREMATION OF A BUDDHIST PRIEST. 
 
 A novel funeral procession. Paper currency. Mourning dress. The 
 cremation ground. ‘ All sorts and conditions of men.’ The 
 furnace. Mode of conducting the funeral service. Rather monoto- 
 nous. Unceremonious treatment of the dead. Burial fees. Col- 
 lecting the ashes. A monk ‘ on the shelf’ at last ! pp. 196 — 202 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XUl 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE MISSIONARY AT WORK. 
 
 Notions of Christians at home as to missionaries. ‘Hat and stick, 
 and hymn-book too.’ Nearly seven thousand sermons without 
 a convert. Instruction v. exhortation. Natives as preachers. 
 Preaching in the market-place. Christ and the idols face to face. 
 The humorous aspect of idolatry. The idol-mender. Daily 
 preaching services. Arrangements of a chapel. ‘ Let the women 
 keep silence in the churches.’ Behaviour in church. An extra- 
 ordinary interruption. Prepared hearts. Buddhist tract distribu- 
 tor. Omnivorous credulity. Chinese psalmody. Sunday schools. 
 Books in Roman letter pp. 205 — 226 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 OUR CHINESE BRETHREN IN CHRIST. 
 
 The ‘ rest and refreshment ’ of being a missionary deputation. Quality 
 of converts. The love of Christ, and the love of cash. ‘ Passing 
 rich on sixteen pounds a year.’ A Chinese bargain. Struggle for 
 existence. Christian liberality. Peaceable, but very noisy. Living 
 by faith. Speaking for Christ. ‘Philip findeth Nathanael.’ 
 ‘Sheep without a shepherd.’ An ‘independent’ church. 
 Brother Tiap and his wonderful doings. The ‘ Praise-God village.’ 
 Fluency of Chinese speakers. The Emperor’s Chinese hard to 
 murder. Church members as evangelists. The * apostle of the 
 Chinese’ ... pp. 227 — 240 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 THE TOWN OF AMOY FROM KULANGSEU 
 A CHINESE PEEP-SHOW 
 THE CAPTAIN OF THE GOSPEL-BOAT 
 NIA-TAU ... 
 
 SHOOTING THE RAPIDS ... 
 
 AN IDOL PROCESSION ... 
 
 CHINESE PRISONERS WEARING THE CANGUE 
 MAP 
 
 TUNG-A-BE CHAPEL 
 MASTER MERCY, THE COOK 
 LONDON MISSION HOUSE, AMOY 
 REPRESENTATIVE DEACONS 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 PAGE 8 
 
 35 
 
 ... 38 
 
 ... 40 
 
 ... 81 
 ... 91 
 
 ... 98 
 
 ... 100 
 ... 104 
 
 ... 204 
 
 ... 228 
 
EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A WALK IN THE STREETS. 
 
 I well remember the earnestness with which one of 
 our most honoured theological professors besought a 
 class of students to cultivate the ‘ historical imagina- 
 tion ’ when reading the Bible, or when preparing for 
 the pulpit. * Try to see the event for yourselves/ he 
 said ; * let it happen over again as you describe it/ 
 
 In attempting to paint in broad outline the daily 
 scenes of a missionary’s life in China, I can only entreat 
 the reader to endeavour to exercise the 4 geographical 
 imagination/ and to see for himself by the aid of 
 imagination the strange sights that meet the eye of 
 the ordinary traveller, or the ‘ messengers of the 
 churches’ in this wonderful Eastern land. 
 
 Let us begin with a walk through the streets, just 
 such a walk as one would have to take on a Sunday 
 afternoon in marching a mile through the town to 
 conduct the service at a Christian chapel. Put away, if 
 you please, all the prejudices you have acquired from 
 
2 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 childhood in connection with that word street. Do not 
 think of a paved or gravelled road, with a path on each 
 side, and horses and carts pursuing their way, while 
 foot-passengers are looking into the shops with glazed 
 windows, or hurrying along the broad pavement. 
 
 First, remember that throughout almost the whole 
 of the country south of the Yang-tsze river there is 
 scarcely to be found such a thing as a wheeled vehicle. 
 In the north rude carts are made, which do their duty 
 as best they can under the combined difficulties of 
 unskilful construction of the carts themselves, the bad 
 condition of the roads, the imperfect culture of the beasts 
 of burden, and, not least, the eccentricities of their 
 owners. But south of the Yang-tsze, with the exception 
 of wheelbarrows for goods and passengers, the only 
 vehicle is the sedan-chair in some of its various stages of 
 development. Then imagine the streets as mere alleys and 
 courts, and not at all what we mean by the word street. 
 Stretch out your arms, and reflect that in so doing, in an 
 ordinary Chinese town, you would generally be able to 
 touch the counters of the shops on both sides of the 
 way. Many towns, of course, have a few streets twice, 
 and even three times, that width ; but they are the 
 exception, while, on the other hand, there is in every 
 populous town an immense network of narrow alleys 
 in which it is impossible for two persons to pass one 
 another without mutual concession. The spectacle of 
 a portly gentleman walking sideways for a few paces 
 because he is a few inches less broad from front to back 
 than he is from side to side, is one that appears after a 
 little time to be very natural and not at all humorous. 
 
 But before we go further let me say that, in attempt- 
 ing a description of everyday life in a heathen country, 
 
A WALK IN THE STREETS. 
 
 3 
 
 it is quite necessary to pass over many things that would 
 render the narrative more graphic and realistic. Some 
 of these are often the very things in which the character 
 of the people stands most clearly revealed, and which it 
 is needful to know, in order to have a true idea of what 
 they are like. Although China is very far from being 
 destitute of what we call civilization, yet the people are 
 thoroughly Oriental in their habits as well as in their 
 position, and it is impossible to walk for five minutes in 
 the smallest village or the largest town without seeing 
 much which had better not be put on paper. One is 
 compelled to sum the matter up in some such phrases 
 as these : that very few, even of the gentry, burden 
 themselves with that product of Western refinement, 
 the pocket-handkerchief; that soap is almost unknown, 
 and washing is not regarded as one of the necessary 
 duties of life ; that in warm weather most Chinamen 
 do not perspire under a needless quantity of clothing ; 
 that the vast array of beggars that obstruct the way at 
 intervals regard their ghastly sores as so much stock-in- 
 trade, to be exhibited accordingly; and that the odours 
 in every town without exception, and in most villages, 
 are many and disagreeable. 
 
 The stroll we are about to take is through the town 
 of Amoy, and we will turn our steps in the direction of 
 ‘ Little Custom-house Street/ which is about a mile 
 from the sea-shore. The street we are entering is 
 ‘Facing Kwan-tai’s Temple Street/ The name is not 
 posted up at an angle of the wall, as with us, but over 
 the wooden gateway which admits to the next ward of 
 the town. 
 
 The first object that attracts our attention is the 
 
 exterior of the temple itself. To one who has asso3iated 
 
 B 2 
 
4 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 the idea of pagan worship with what is grand and 
 beautiful in its outward aspects, it is almost shocking 
 to enter such a house as this consecrated to Kwan-tai. 
 The word temple, also, has been so sacred to us from our 
 infancy through its connection in our minds with the 
 worship of the Living God, that to apply it to this 
 dirty, unsightly shed, harbouring not only the dust- 
 covered images of Kwan-tai and his attendants, but 
 choice representatives of the various grades of the 
 ta^rag and bobtail of a heathen town, strikes us as a 
 profanation of the term. As a matter of fact, however, in 
 China these places are not often spoken of as temples. 
 The word commonly used both by merchants and 
 missionaries is Joss-house. Its derivation is from the 
 Portuguese Dios , which again is from the Latin Deus, 
 God. Dios is corrupted by the Chinese who speak that 
 mongrel abomination, ‘ pigeon-English,’ into Joss. They 
 apply the same term to our Christian worship as to 
 their own idolatrous customs. To burn incense-sticks 
 before an idol, or to go to church as the Christians do, 
 is alike to ‘ go do Joss/ 
 
 But could idolatry condemn itself more utterly in any 
 other way than in permitting such a place as this to 
 be used for worship ? It seems never to have been 
 painted, washed, or swept since it was built. And what 
 a crowd of half- dressed rascals ! While some poor soul 
 is lighting her sticks of incense before the dirty idols, 
 and shaking out of the bamboo jar the fortune-telling 
 slips, a roar and rattle of rapid and incessant chatter is 
 kept up by the loafers who surround little tables made 
 of a tray on the top of a basket, gambling with dice, 
 tossing cash, getting their fortunes told, dictating a 
 letter to a professional scribe, or haggling noisily over 
 
A WALK IN THE STREETS. 
 
 5 
 
 some matter of business. It is a fact universally 
 recognized that the joss-houses are frequented most by 
 the worst characters of the town, and that schemes of 
 wickedness are commonly hatched under the noses of 
 the gods. 
 
 The little space in front of the building is occupied 
 with movable stalls, containing all kinds of goods. 
 Most of these stalls are removed at night. Here are 
 trays of cakes and sweetmeats, caps, purses, jade-stone 
 bracelets, combs, pipes, lanterns, writing materials, little 
 pictures in frames, portraits] of women supposed to be 
 beautiful, boots, umbrellas, native and foreign, paraffin- 
 oil lamps, and a thousand odds and ends of trinkets the 
 like of which one sees in England only at a bazaar 
 or a fair. 
 
 From the front of Kwan-tai’s undignified residence 
 we enter a very long street crowded with busy people. 
 The prospect of having to proceed for a long distance 
 through such narrow streets and such a rabble of the 
 unwashed is anything but exhilarating. In China it is 
 always well not to be in a hurry, but particularly so 
 in the main thoroughfares of a busy town. There 
 seems to be no room at all to spare. Many persons are 
 carrying heavy and bulky burdens that nearly block the 
 narrow road, and compel those who do not care to be 
 knocked down to retire precipitately into a shop-door 
 to let the carriers pass. Here they come, one after 
 another, trotting at a moderate pace, because they say it 
 is easier to carry a heavy weight when running than when 
 walking. There being no other means of transport 
 than human hands and human shoulders, every variety 
 of goods, bales of all sorts and sizes, are borne upon 
 a pole across the hardened and distorted shoulders 
 
6 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 of the professional burden-bearers. The scanty dress 
 allows us to observe the splendid sinews of these men, 
 but their bent backs too often prove that they have 
 suffered severely in their painful tasks. The coobe is a 
 much-enduring beast of burden, but he pays down 
 something of his life as well as of sweat for the miser- 
 able dole of cash which he earns with such labour. As 
 we are noting these facts we hasten to avoid being hurt 
 by an enormous box carried by four men, who have only 
 four square yards of clothing among them, and who are 
 glistening from head to foot with perspiration. The 
 chest contains the stage properties of a band of strolling 
 players, who have probably been hired to make night 
 hideous in some highly-favoured quarter of the town. 
 Eefore we get home we may possibly see a troupe 
 performing their professional duties. 
 
 You will observe that the streets are admirably 
 paved. The slabs of stone are not quite level, it is 
 true. They have been worn into inequality by the 
 footsteps of multitudes of the barefooted and the shod. 
 But still these blocks, seven feet long, that extend from 
 side to side, make a solid pavement. Immediately 
 underneath is the sewer. That is why there is a space 
 of an inch or less between each slab. The sewer, being 
 open, gets thoroughly ventilated, and so retards the 
 forming of poisonous gases ; and when there is a heavy 
 shower the water runs off the path instantaneously and 
 cleanses the drains. 
 
 But who and what are these melancholy mortals 
 who are meandering along covered with sheep-skins ? 
 They are what, when } t ou see them in Fleet Street, you 
 call * sandwich men/ They are exhibiting the wares 
 purchasable at this clothier’s shop on our left. Instead 
 
A WALK IK THE STREETS. 7 
 
 of carrying advertisement-boards, and wandering up and 
 down the street, a layer of lean mortality between two 
 slices of wood, they wear upon their own backs the very 
 goods which you are respectfully invited to inspect and 
 to buy. Do not imagine that a Chinaman s mind feels 
 any qualms at the thought that these garments have 
 been for weeks upon the back of one of the unwashed. 
 He is troubled by no such unpleasant reflections. But 
 he would no doubt drive a harder bargain, on the plea 
 that they had been already much worn. 
 
 These sheep-skins are very highly valued in winter by 
 the country people. If you were relating to an agricul- 
 tural audience in the south of China, and in the north 
 also to townspeople, the sufferings of the persecuted 
 saints of old, it would never do to tell them that ‘ they 
 wandered about in sheep-skins and goat-skins.’ You 
 would err as much as the Moravian missionaries did 
 who first preached of the fires of hell to the Green- 
 landers. Those Arctic folk were immensely pleased 
 with the prospect of going there, and the missionaries 
 were naturally very much shocked at the result of their 
 own preaching. And so, to the Chinese mind, the 
 wandering about in- sheep-ski ns and goat- skins does not 
 at all imply that they were ‘destitute, afflicted, tor- 
 mented.’ They would very much like to be persecuted 
 to that degree. 
 
 Many of the Chinese streets are devoted to shops 
 provided with only one kind of goods. In the larger 
 towns this is, of course, more commonly the case than 
 in a comparatively poor town like Amoy. Canton, for 
 instance, has its Paternoster Bow filled with book- 
 stores; its long lines of shops of jewellery, crockery, 
 clothing, and bric-a-brac. Here, in Amoy, we also have 
 
8 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 a Bootmaker Street, and Basket Street, and streets 
 almost wholly occupied with rice-sellers. But the street 
 along which we are making our way has a little of 
 everything. The shops are generally of the rudest 
 order, as far as construction is concerned. A large 
 proportion of them are no better than sheds, or booths 
 
 A CHINESE PEEP-SHOW. 
 
 at a fair. None have glass windows. Very little glass 
 is used anywhere in China, and especially in the south, 
 where the heat is very great during the larger part 
 of the year. The shops that make some degree of 
 show are also very oddly mixed up with those of the 
 commonest order. Here is an ironmonger’s store, the 
 counter next the roadway being burdened with the 
 
A WALK IN THE STREETS. 
 
 9 
 
 most miscellaneous and rusty of keys, locks, wire, 
 bolts, hammers, and other tools ; while pendent chains 
 and iron implements hang so thickly from the roof 
 in front as almost to darken the interior. Next is a 
 handsome silk-shop, beautiful skeins of every shade of 
 colour lie on the counter, and the well-dressed assistants 
 are exhibiting materials which English ladies would 
 delight to brood over for hours. Here we have a 
 carpenter’s work-room, stuffed from floor to ceiling 
 with tubs, pails, basins, chairs, and beds, all painted a 
 bright red. Next to this is a cap factory and shop. 
 Half of the employes are selling the goods, and the other 
 half are moulding little black satin caps, lined with red 
 flannel, to fit the back of the human cranium. The 
 same is true of this boot-shop : making and selling are 
 going forward behind the same counter. But, in this 
 case, I can assure you by painful experience that the 
 Chinese artist who covers the human foot takes no 
 account of its shape. He acts as though that part 
 of your extremities which you treat with so much 
 consideration, and call your ‘ big toe,’ were placed in the 
 middle of the foot, with two small toes on either side 
 of it. Why the Chinese boot is made with a narrow- 
 pointed end it is impossible to say. Perhaps the idea 
 has never occurred to the makers that there is a 
 physiological reason why the same boot should not be 
 worn with equal ease on either foot. But so it is, they 
 do not distinguish between right and left in the matter 
 of boots, and a week of suffering must be endured 
 before the boot begins to adapt itself to the foot. 
 
 There are plenty of refreshment-rooms on both sides 
 of the way — from the sweet-stuff shop to the more 
 extensive dining-room, where you may get a heavy meal 
 
io EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 of rice and sweet potatoes, with snacks of fish and other 
 tasty dishes, for about three halfpence. In Amoy 
 there are none of the splendid tea-drinking saloons 
 that are to be found in Canton and many other large 
 cities. There the people are very busy, and with not 
 much cash to spare. There is very little loitering and 
 gossiping over the tea-table, compared with the richer 
 towns. But at every few steps you may come to an 
 eating-house, where you can sit on a form, and with 
 your chopsticks sweep the steaming rice from the howl 
 into your mouth. There is abundance also of odds and 
 ends of edibles that are nameless to us, and shall 
 remain so — messes chiefly fried in nut-oil, tasting queer 
 and smelling worse. The cooking-stove is lighted at 
 the street-door, instead of in a kitchen at the back of 
 the premises. There is no chimney to carry off the 
 smoke, but neither the neighbours nor the passers-by 
 complain. Looking down from the hill-side upon the 
 town with its houses closely packed together for miles, 
 there is no such thing as a chimney to be seen. In the 
 private houses the cooking is done in the little court 
 around which the rooms are built; in the business 
 premises, if there is no back yard, it is done in the 
 street. The Chinaman is a wonderful creature for 
 enduring endless nuisances, regarding them as things 
 that are and have been, and therefore still must be. 
 
 We could scarcely have a better illustration of that 
 last remark than this stage, which has been thrown 
 right across the main thoroughfare. We must either 
 find our way round by a side street, or creep under the 
 stage as best we can. Fancy what it would be for a 
 band of itinerant actors to erect a theatre in Cheapside, 
 compelling all the traffic to turn aside for a whole day ; 
 
A WALK IN THE STREETS. II 
 
 and then consider that the street we are in bears about 
 the same relation to the city of Amoy as Cheapside 
 does to the city of London ! Yet the people do not 
 complain. It is probable that not one in a hundred 
 who turn aside because the road is blocked thinks that 
 such a nuisance ought not to be allowed. It is much 
 more likely that the inhabitants of the street are objects, 
 of envy because the theatre is brought to their very 
 doors. Some shopkeeper in the street has iuvited the 
 actors at his own expense, and his neighbours are much 
 obliged to him for giving them an opportunity of seeing 
 the play, and of hearing the drums beat, the bells ring, 
 the cymbals clash, and the actors howl and screech, 
 without the trouble of leaving their shop-doors. 
 
 Now that we have got away from the din of the 
 play, and the laughing crowd who watched us scram- 
 bling under the stage (even the actors stopped to see 
 how we fared), let me introduce you to a native painter. 
 This artist has made some small degree of fame in the 
 town for the rapidity with which he draws, and the, 
 excellent manner in which he groups his figures. To 
 our eyes they appear either hideous or ludicrous. Even 
 the most sedate specimens of Chinese art seem to have 
 been intended as high burlesque. By some mental 
 process, which the European is unable to follow, the 
 Chinaman sees what is intended to be taught by the 
 picture which offends most outrageously against all laws 
 of proportion, perspective, or correctness in colour. If 
 you tell our friend here that the picture is not accurate, 
 that the bridge formed of the trunk of a tree joining 
 the sides of that chasm is at least a mile long, and that 
 the mule crossing the bridge is ‘ doing Blondin 5 at a 
 height of no less than a thousand feet, he simply does 
 
12 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 not understand you ; or if you suggest that this fierce 
 warrior, who is brandishing his sword at nothing, ought 
 to be on the ground, and not up in the air, you only 
 become an object of pity to the artist without benefiting 
 him at all. These scrolls, covered with hideous human 
 forms, daubed with flaring colours, are considered works 
 of art; and they are really very curious specimens of 
 ingenuity ; but it is the ingenuity of art that has become 
 insane, or that never had its proper senses. This much 
 must, however, be said in its favour : that the Chinese 
 artist manages to express an idea with fewer strokes of 
 his brush than would have been deemed possible, and 
 that there is about many of his productions a weird 
 kind of beauty which suggests that a very little 
 instruction would make a creditable workman of him. 
 Most of these pictures represent some mythical or 
 idolatrous personage. It is a pity that in the case of 
 pictures of idols it should be considered the triumph 
 of skill to represent them as the impersonation of all 
 that is hideous. The scrolls are to be hung up in the 
 reception-room of a Chinese house, and incense will 
 probably be burned before them by the pious at day- 
 break and at dusk. 
 
 Stop a moment to see what this man is doing as he 
 sits at the door-step. He is producing a truly admirable 
 work of art. Seated on a low stool, he has placed on 
 his knees a board upon which is spread a piece of fine 
 linen, and, undisturbed by the busy traffic, he is drawing 
 with a camel’s-hair pencil dipped in Indian ink patterns 
 to be sold to persons skilled in working with coloured 
 silks. At the present moment he is tracing a rectilinear 
 Greek pattern for the border of the skirt of a lady’s 
 gown. He uses neither rule nor compass, yet every 
 
A WALK IN THE STREETS. 
 
 3 
 
 stroke is produced with mathematical accuracy. Some 
 of the finished pieces are covered with flowers and 
 wreaths, and birds, and human figures, portrayed with 
 a delicacy of touch which would do credit to a first- 
 class lithographic artist. It is true he only attempts a 
 regular round of patterns, and that he has drawn each 
 of them hundreds of times ; but still the work is done 
 and with the perfection that you see. 
 
 There are many curious scenes to be witnessed 
 occasionally upon this road, and on almost any other. 
 Indeed, the entertaining sights are so numerous that to 
 describe all that strikes the new-comer as fantastic would 
 take a volume. You may see a woman deliberately 
 washing her long black hair in a wooden bowl, combing 
 it out and doing it up in public, without so much as 
 a thought that any one would think she should do it 
 indoors. Or, maybe, it is a man in scanty garb, sitting 
 on the threshold of his shop, washing his long legs in 
 a basin of hot water. Sometimes you may come across 
 a conjurer performing at one of the tiny clear spaces 
 where the road widens for a few yards. Close by this 
 spot I once met a man who seemed to have a knife 
 broken off short in the top of his skull, and the blood 
 apparently was running down upon his clothes. The 
 people stood aside with what I thought was a shocked 
 aspect as he solemnly walked on, looking to neither 
 right nor left, and it proved to be only a famous conjurer 
 going through one of his most remarkable performances. 
 Occasionally you may happen upon one of the eccentric 
 customs of idolatry, and see a new house consecrated by 
 the presence of the black-faced idol. And rarely (for it 
 is obviously not a sight to be seen every day) you may 
 happen upon a dentist drawing a tooth. The patient 
 
14 
 
 E VER YD A Y LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 sits on a stool or door-step, while a small knot of men 
 stand round to witness the operation, quite innocent of 
 the humour of the whole proceeding, from the observers 
 point of view. 
 
 Among the everyday sights is this one before ns 
 now, the shaving of the head of the Celestial. At 
 first it appears very laughable for a man to sit in the 
 open street to have his head operated upon ; but one 
 grows hardened to this, as to so many more of the 
 curious customs of this curious land. The barber is 
 generally both a peripatetic and a philosopher. He 
 carries his whole stock-in-trade upon his shoulder-pole, 
 goes round to see his regular customers, and tells 
 the news of the town as the fraternity of the razor 
 commonly do in England. His apparatus consists of 
 two sets of boxes or drawers, one which serves as till 
 for cash, place for razors, and seat for the person to be 
 shaved ; the other of a stand that encloses a pan of 
 lighted charcoal, over which is a basin of warm water. 
 With these various articles hanging from the pole he 
 makes his rounds, taking as much interest in the heads 
 of the people as a shoeblack does in their feet. Very 
 commonly he is paid in kind, instead of in cash, — the 
 purveyors in perishables handing him a few handfuls of 
 rice, or potatoes, or oil, for his trouble in making their 
 heads to shine. 
 
 You had better stand aside a moment to let this 
 procession pass. It is what we call a ‘ mandarin 
 procession/ and occupies a good deal of space. The 
 absurdity of these very narrow streets is never better seen 
 than when a chair containing a mandarin or a bride is 
 trying to turn a corner. Sometimes a counter with all 
 its goods has to be shifted to let a bulky sedan go by. 
 
A WALK IN THE STREETS. 
 
 15 
 
 His Excellency, who occupies the chair, stares with a 
 dull and supercilious look at us ‘ foreign devils/ nor does 
 he imagine for a moment that in our eyes he looks a 
 very comical figure as he sits there, a weighty lump of 
 flesh, unable to proceed because his chair is wider than 
 is kind to the shopkeepers. Nor are his attendants, with 
 Davy-lamps on their heads by way of hats, in the least 
 conscious that they are conspicuous. They are as un- 
 wholesome a set of men as we can find, hired probably 
 for the occasion, many of them. And they beat their 
 gongs, and blow their flageolets with an irregular series 
 of squeaks equal to half a score of bagpipes, sublimely 
 ignorant of the fact that they grieve our unaccustomed 
 foreign ears. All processions, whether of marriages, or 
 funerals, or idols, or mandarins, are accompanied by the 
 same inharmonious sounds. It is a sore trial to the 
 missionary to have one of these too-common processions 
 pass the door of his chapel during a service. 
 
 We must not omit to notice these bright-coloured 
 boards that hang from the eaves of the roof, by the 
 side of every shop with any pretension to respectability. 
 Like the signs of many English inns, these boards face 
 the passing traveller, so that all may read them as they 
 walk. Yery seldom is the name of the firm put upon 
 the sign-board, but some high-sounding epigram or sen- 
 timent which gives a designation to the shop, or a brief 
 statement of the calling of the tenant. The characters 
 inscribed upon them are frequently richly gilt, or of 
 some brilliant colour spotted with gold. All are var- 
 nished, or were so once. The variety of colours gives 
 the street a gay appearance, which commends itself 
 even to the untutored taste of a foreigner. Some of 
 the inscriptions are amusing for their bombastic style, 
 
1 6 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 or for the quiet sarcasm that suggests the keenness and 
 sagacity of the people. Here are a few samples : * The 
 advantage of dealing here is mutual ; ' 4 Chattering and 
 gossiping interfere with business;' ‘No credit given 
 — we have grown wise by painful experience;' ‘No 
 cheating here;' ‘Trade revolves like a wheel;' ‘The 
 harmony of right principles ; ' ‘ Vast-flowing goodness ; ' 
 ‘An immense flowing stream.’ While noting these 
 signs we may also observe that over almost every door 
 are four characters, written with black ink on red paper, 
 which read, ‘ May the Five Blessings descend upon this 
 house ! ' Sometimes the inscriptions are ludicrously 
 inappropriate, as, for instance, that one over the opium- 
 den, ‘ May health and happiness rest on all who enter 
 here ! ' 
 
 Stay a moment to look at this marine store dealer’s 
 counter. No better specimen of a cheap-jack can you 
 find in the town. All sorts of second-hand goods — 
 spectacles, opium-pipes, books, picture-scrolls, boots, 
 clothing, and an infinite variety of things. One day, 
 as I was passing here, I saw a crowd round the stall, 
 examining very intently a foreign picture. My worthy 
 * shop-lord ’ had cut from a German illustrated paper 
 a print representing German soldiers dancing in a tavern 
 with some fashionably-dressed females. This he had 
 pasted on a scroll, and was offering it for sale among 
 his curios. The crowd saw me looking over the 
 shoulders of those in front of me, and at once several 
 voices exclaimed, ‘ That represents the manners of 
 your ancestral country.' It is not the only case by a 
 good many in which one has wished that pictures from 
 abroad could pass through the hands of a censor morum 
 before being distributed among the Chinese. I wrote 
 
A WALK IN THE STREETS. 
 
 1 7 
 
 on one occasion to a friend in England to send me any 
 spare copies of the Illustrated London News and Graphic , 
 to give away to my native friends. It happened to he 
 the time of the Turko-Russian campaign, and a more 
 ghastly set of pictures of the inhuman brutality of war 
 than those which reached me it would be difficult to 
 find. It is needless to say that very few of the prints 
 found their way into the hands of my Chinese brethren. 
 
 By the way, while we are just finishing our journey, 
 I will tell you a curious fact about Chinamen and 
 foreign pictures. Those who are unaccustomed to see 
 them do not, as a rule, understand them at all at first. 
 They look at the picture, but see no meaning in it. 
 ‘ Rob Roy’ Macgregor, in his book on ‘The Jordan/ 
 tells us the same thing about his boatman. The man 
 discovered an arm and a leg in a picture of a statue at 
 intervals of hours and days. So a Chinaman literally 
 searches a picture for single facts and ideas, which he 
 then puts together piece by piece, until at length he 
 forms a complete conception of what the purport of the 
 picture is. A child does the same, probably ; and the 
 Chinaman who sees a foreign picture for the first time 
 looks at it with the eyes of a grown-up child. When I 
 had discovered this fact, I tested the truth of it many 
 times by showing pictures to intelligent friends. A 
 fine sketch of the interior of a Turkish man-of-war, 
 four guns served by about ten men, and the admiral 
 standing in the foreground with his hands resting 
 upon his sword, was put down as ‘ mountains ; * and a 
 large and elaborate picture of the funeral of Mons. 
 Thiers proceeding through the streets of Paris was 
 ' said to be ‘ a ship at sea/ This is an interesting 
 fact for psychologists. 
 
 c 
 
EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 \ But here we are at our destination — the London 
 Mission Chapel in Kwan-a-lai Street. The first time 
 we take such a stroll through a Chinese city it is 
 quite impo sible to realize that these are the common 
 scenes of daily life in every town. It is like a troubled 
 dream rather than stern fact. The vast throngs of 
 people, the din of daily toil, the yelling of street- 
 hawkers, the ceaseless shout of burden-bearers — 
 ‘ Look out ; stand aside ! ’ — the stuffy and choking 
 smells, varied at every few steps, but never for the 
 better ; an occasional procession with drums and fifes : 
 the huge and unwholesome pigs and the mangy dogs 
 that are clearing the streets of rubbish; the firing of 
 crackers, the burning of incense, the smoke of cooking- 
 stoves, — these are the things that assail the senses as one 
 threads one’s way through the intricacies of a Chinese 
 city. Do the supporters of foreign missions realize that 
 it is through such scenes as these that the missionary 
 has to pass every Sunday (for that day is to the China- 
 man the same as another) on his way to conduct divine 
 service, or to preach the gospel to the heathen ? 
 
 There are also, as I suggested above, more unpleasant 
 things than can be related. And the people live, and 
 thrive, and are happy. They are not so much troubled 
 by their surroundings as we should imagine, because 
 they were born into them. Many of them seem in- 
 capable of care, though it is equally true that a bitter 
 wail goes up to the throne of God from multitudes of 
 sufferers in body and mind in every place. In no land 
 are comedy and tragedy nearer together. The colours 
 of the kaleidoscope do not change as rapidly as do the 
 aspects of Chinese life from gay to grave and back 
 again. But as we meet them here and there it seems 
 
 C> 
 
A WALK IN THE STREETS. 
 
 19 
 
 as though many of them knew no other care than that 
 one which is born in every Chinaman, and ingrained in 
 his very soul, viz. how to get more cash. For this they 
 live. They talk and think only cash. Nine-tenths of 
 all that clatter of voices we heard in the joss-house, in 
 the shops, and in the street, was about cash. If they 
 are given to dreaming it must be largely about cash. 
 The struggle for existence is so severe that cash is the 
 one inexhaustible topic that employs the tongue of all. 
 Yet, if anything could persuade them of the political 
 and social economy of spending cash upon their streets 
 to improve them, or if Chinese towns could be purged 
 ‘ so as by fire/ as London, Yeddo, and many another 
 city has been, and rebuilt upon a more liberal plan, it 
 would be a boon which would make China a richer and 
 more wholesome land. 
 
20 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 TRAVELLING BY ROAD AND RIVER. 
 
 One of the early Roman governors of Britain was 
 asked, ‘What is most needed in order to render the 
 newly-conquered island a profitable colony ? * ‘ Good 
 
 roads/ was the reply. ‘ And the second ? ’ * More 
 
 roads.’ ‘ And the third ? ’ ‘ More roads still/ That 
 
 he and his successors acted upon this plan in deve 1 oping 
 the resources of the little island which we call Great 
 Britain, we know from history, and the many Roman 
 roads that abound still. But the Chinese not only are 
 careless of this principle of political economy, but are 
 oblivious of the fact that a straight line is the shortest 
 cut. As far as roads are concerned, they are as indifferent 
 to the promotion of trade as to the comfort of their 
 limbs. 
 
 Samuel Wells Williams, in his Middle, Kingdom , re- 
 marks, that ‘the public roads, in a country so well 
 provided with navigable streams, are of minor con- 
 sequence, hut these media of travel have by no means 
 been neglected/ He then goes on to quote De Guignes, 
 who praises in hearty terms the condition of the roads 
 in many parts of North China. Other writers have also 
 testified that, in some parts of the north, good broad 
 
TRAVELLING BY ROAD AND RIVER. 
 
 21 
 
 toads are found, shaded with trees, and fairly well 
 attended to. These, however, are only the great main 
 thoroughfares, and are in a ratio to the bad of less than 
 one to a hundred. 
 
 It is very difficult for any one who has not travelled 
 in an Oriental country to conceive the utter state of 
 disorganization of these lines of communication, which 
 we think so essential to our prosperity and ease. In 
 our description of the streets of a city we had occasion 
 to inform the reader that comparatively seldom is a 
 street found wider than from five to fifteen feet. Out- 
 side the town matters are worse. There it is often 
 difficult to find any road at all. By instinct, or by the 
 sense of direction, one often happens upon the right 
 path ; but it is always best to ask, and to seek diligently 
 for it. 
 
 Between great cities there are the regular highways, 
 which go by the name of 1 great roads/ These are 
 kept in moderate repair, and sometimes exceed six feet 
 in width. If, however, you should turn off one of them, 
 it becomes absolutely necessary to have a guide. Half 
 a day’s journey from Amoy is the ‘great road/ which 
 is said to run as nearly straight as possible from Peking 
 to Canton. The people of the locality seemed very 
 proud of the fact. But in walking along it, as we saw 
 it, no consecutive thirty yards are of the same descrip- 
 tion. Now it is formed of a loose shingle, and now it is 
 paved ; here it runs on top of a mud-bank, and there 
 it descends into a narrow ditch. In hilly or agricultural 
 districts the roads take care of themselves. It is nobody’s 
 business to make or mend them. One stands aghast at 
 what seems the audacity of the farmer in interfering 
 with the public ways. He will plough them up, and 
 
22 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 allow the public to tread them hard again, apparently 
 hoping they may be narrowed by the process; or he 
 will find it convenient to make a pond for irrigating 
 purposes right where the path runs, and henceforth, until 
 some new idea seizes him, the public must walk round 
 his pond. Meddlers with the roads never seem to 
 suffer from prick of conscience, and while grumbling at 
 them is endless, I do not remember ever to have heard 
 it said that any public or private body should improve 
 them. In fact, their false notions of economy would 
 probably induce them to believe that to make a broad 
 path would be utterly wasteful of good land. That, at 
 any rate, is what they say in regard to the broad roads 
 made by Europeans on certain lands possessed or rented 
 by them. 
 
 This being the condition of things throughout the 
 country south of the Yang- tsze-kiang, even if there were 
 wheeled vehicles they would be useless. Not even the 
 wheelbarrow could be trundled over the many obstruc- 
 tions that constantly occur. The strong thews and 
 muscles of the coolie class of bearers must perforce do 
 all the work that, with us, falls to the lot of the beast 
 of burden or the steam-engine. 
 
 In the far north the modes of conveyance differ 
 altogether from those in the south. In Peking multi- 
 tudes of camels are to be seen doing a large share of the 
 goods traffic between the capital and Mongolia and 
 Manchuria. The greater part of the tea that reaches 
 Russia from China goes as far as Thibet on the backs 
 of camels. Heavy two-wheeled waggons, drawn by 
 bullocks, are met with in all directions on such roads 
 as are wide enough for them. Horses and mules are 
 also extensively employed. 
 
TRAVELLING BY ROAD AND RIVER. 23 
 
 Some very curious sights are seen on these carriage 
 roads. The Chinaman is a being decidedly utilitarian 
 in his ways of thinking and acting. He scorns appear- 
 ances, if he can by any means attain his end, which is 
 to secure as large a measure of draught-power with as 
 little trouble to himself, as may be. A bullock and a 
 donkey in the shafts, or driven tandem ; a large horse 
 and a small mule yoked together ; or even (as some say) 
 a man or woman harnessed with an ass, are among the ? 
 arrangements that astonish the traveller from the West. 
 Wheelbarrows abound, and the labour of propulsion 
 is assisted, if the wind be favourable, by the hoisting 
 of a sail, or, if not, by attaching a mule or two in front. 
 Could the reader witness such a scene as this and keep 
 his gravity ? — two pompous Chinese gentlemen, ele- 
 gantly attired, sitting on a barrow, thumping along the 
 uneven road, their round cheeks trembling like a jelly, 
 while two panting and perspiring coolies endeavour to 
 steady the handles of the machine, and a melancholy 
 mule drags it along by means of a rope. A hundred 
 such strange sights may be seen in the day. 
 
 In these northerly parts the most common convey- 
 ance is the one-horse cart, the multiform inconveniences 
 of which it would take long to relate. To begin with, 
 it has no springs whatever, and the solid wheels are 
 fixed to the short axletrees. A small piece of water- 
 proof cloth is spread upon a bamboo frame as a 
 protection from the weather, but raised so little above 
 the cart that the traveller can only sit up or lie down. 
 The jolting is indescribably annoying and painful. Sir 
 John Davis tells us that the servant of a British 
 ambassador actually suffered concussion of the brain in 
 one of these instruments of torture, because, being 
 
24 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 unwell, he could not help lying down in the bottom of 
 the cart. The only way to endure the pain of a long 
 journey is to provide oneself with a large quantity of 
 bedding, with which to moderate the shocks. Jolting 
 over little hillocks of hard mud, or dropping suddenly 
 into a hole, sinking up to the axle in the deep ruts and 
 bogs in wet weather, or blinded with the finest of dust 
 when it is dry, — such is the average experience of the 
 traveller in a Chinese cart. 
 
 The city of Peking, however, can boast of hackney- 
 coaches. The streets of the capital are moderately 
 wide, affording space for these curious two-wheeled 
 cabs, or games. It is true they have no springs, and 
 that even a short journey is a painful experience to 
 unaccustomed limbs ; but to make up for this slight 
 deficiency in point of comfort, they are elegantly fitted 
 inside with a lining and blinds of green or red silk. 
 Besides, you can hire coach, horse, and man for a 
 whole day for one shilling and eightpence ! There are 
 comparatively few sedan-chairs in Peking. 
 
 The most popular vehicle in China just now is the 
 jinrickshaw , which abounds in the streets of the splendid 
 foreign settlement in Shanghai and the English colony 
 of Hong-kong. It is a small gig, to seat either one or 
 two persons, and drawn by a man, whence it has been 
 humorously called the ‘ Pullman car.’ That small 
 jest is, it may be added, an accurate translation of the 
 name of the vehicle ; for the three syllables are jin y 
 man; rik, strength ; sha, carriage. The jinrickshaw was 
 introduced into China from Japan. A bar unites the 
 ends of the shafts, and taking hold of this, the coolie 
 holds it to his chest, and runs with the little craft at 
 a speed of six miles an hour. On a cool evening 
 
TRAVELLING BY ROAD AND RIVER. 
 
 2 5 
 
 scores of these pretty carriages are trying to overtake 
 one another along the broad and shady Bund, or river- 
 face, in Shanghai. The misfortune is that, in conse- 
 quence of the badness of native roads, the jinrickshaiu 
 is no use so soon as it leaves the American, English, or 
 French ‘concessions/ Three thousand of them are 
 licensed for hire in the foreign city of Shanghai. One 
 can ride for an hour for the small sum of fivepence. 
 
 In these central districts of China the most common 
 vehicle is the wheelbarrow, — far more common than 
 carts in the nortji, or sedan-chairs in the south. It is 
 used by travellers and for the transport of goods. On 
 a perfectly level road or pavement the wheelbarrow is 
 rather an agreeable carriage ; but let the road he in 
 any degree rough, and the barrow becomes the most 
 excruciating machine ever invented for the torture of 
 travellers. 
 
 The wheel is about three feet in diameter, and is 
 placed in the centre of the barrow, so that the weight 
 of the sitter is directly over the axle. The driver has 
 no other burden than to propel and steady the machine. 
 A wooden frame covering the upper part of the wheel 
 serves as an arm-rest. From this the seat projects on 
 each side over the axles. If there is only one passenger 
 the barrow must be tilted a little on one side. The 
 rider places one foot on a bar forming part of the frame, 
 while the other hangs down upon a stirrup made of 
 rope. It need not be said that to run over a brick, 
 or into a hole eight or ten inches deep, or upon well- 
 worn paving-stones, is anything but conducive to quiet 
 reflection or peace of mind. The writer has many a 
 painful reminiscence of aching joints and bruises gotten 
 on a barrow. 
 
2 6 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 The elegant and dignified and agreeable vehicle of 
 China belongs peculiarly to the south. It is the sedan- 
 chair. The comfort of this conveyance has been 
 brought as nearly to perfection as circumstances will 
 allow. In cities where many wealthy men reside, sedans 
 are often seen which are real works of art. The seat 
 is luxuriously cushioned and padded, lined with blue 
 or crimson satin. Comfortable elbow-rests; a shelf 
 behind for a large package, and another in front for 
 pipe, or book, or small parcel ; windows of glass, with 
 silk blinds ; and the exterior of blue cloth, with em- 
 broidered ornaments and tassels hanging from the top 
 all round the four sides. What more elegant and 
 commodious vehicle can you wish for than that ? 
 Unfortunately these are not for public hire. The best 
 chairs for hire are fairly comfortable, but it is well to 
 carry a cushion for the seat and back. Missionaries 
 generally use their light travelling mattress for this 
 purpose. Occasionally the chair-bearer will complain 
 of the slight addition to the weight, but not often. A 
 very small amount of luggage is also allowed in the 
 chair. How the poor fellows manage to carry the chair 
 and its occupant for twenty miles it is hard to imagine. 
 The chair itself often weighs as much as 40 lbs., and 
 one may presume that the average weight of adult men 
 is 140 lbs., while the latter is doubtless very frequently 
 exceeded. Yet with the pressure of 100 lbs. upon the 
 shoulders of each man they struggle more or less good- 
 humouredly for a whole day. 
 
 From the better class of sedan there is a descending 
 scale to the common bamboo frame, called a ‘ mountain- 
 chair/ It consists of only two poles, with a seat 
 between them, and a wooden stirrup for the feet. I 
 
TRA YELLING BY ROAD AND RIVER. 
 
 27 
 
 weighed one of these machines, and found it only 16 lbs. 
 To keep off the sun and the wet a piece of oil-cloth is 
 spread over a frame of four split sticks. When the 
 weather is fine and mild, this is a luxurious mode of 
 conveyance in a country where few persons are in a 
 hurry, and twenty miles in a day is reckoned rapid 
 travelling. In cold, wet, and windy weather the 
 ‘ mountain - chair ’ may be described mildly as an 
 offence. 
 
 The number of bearers of any one chair is regulated 
 by law. The Emperor alone is allowed sixteen ; man- 
 darins of the highest rank, eight; lesser dignitaries, 
 four, and a civilian, two or three, according as the 
 weight of his ‘ honourable body ’ may render needful. 
 But however much he may exceed ordinary proportions, 
 if he is of common unofficial clay, not more than three 
 may carry him. He must be content to pay heavily, as 
 he weighs the same. 
 
 Chair-bearers belong to the very lowest class of 
 society. In the Fuh-kien province, at least, to be a 
 chair-bearer is regarded as equivalent to being a lohg 
 way down in the social scale. For the most part they 
 are men who pay little or no regard to the amenities 
 of social intercourse or the ties of family life. Those 
 on the main roads have seldom any settled homes. At 
 certain seasons the}?' can make money fast. When the 
 provincial examinations are being held in a neighbour- 
 ing town, or at the time of a fair or idolatrous feast, 
 many well-to-do people are moving to and fro, and 
 the price of fares is high. But they live from hand to 
 mouth, and spend their surplus cash in opium-smoking 
 and debauchery. 
 
 Notwithstanding all their bad ways the chair-bearers 
 
28 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA . 
 
 are a pleasant set of men to deal with, if they are only 
 treated with a fair degree of consideration and good 
 humour. There is nothing they resent so much as 
 a cantankerous fare, especially if he happens to be 
 a foreigner. Then all their essentially republican 
 sentiments come to the front, and they let him know 
 that one man is as good as another in their opinion. 
 The satirical fun they lavish upon him in his hearing 
 to the bearers of a passing chair, or at an eating-house, is 
 as fine as anything ever produced by a London ‘ cabby/ 
 Poor fellows ! full of quaint humour ; in fair weather 
 and full work and health so light-hearted and gay, and 
 yet fallen so low in morals and public esteem, toiling so 
 hard for the cash they spend so recklessly, one cannot 
 help laughing at and with them, but with a feeling more 
 of pity than of pleasure. 
 
 One of the most amusing adventures I ever had with 
 chair-bearers was the following. I hired two men to 
 carry me in a ‘ mountain-chair ’ to a district city about 
 eighteen miles off. Our route lay over some very rough 
 granite hills to a tiny village, where I was to meet some 
 Christian brethren for an hour or two. Reaching this 
 place about ten o’clock in the morning, my friends, 
 who wished to do me honour, extended their favours 
 to my hired men, and unfortunately brought out the 
 samshoo , a strong liquor generally reserved for feasts 
 and special occasions. Of this I was quite unaware 
 when I left the village. We had not gone far before 
 one of the men showed signs of collapse. Two or three 
 times he fell on his knees, but always declared there 
 was nothing the matter with him. Another mile, and 
 both had succumbed. We were now upon a ridge of 
 hills, and before us was a wide sandy plain, stretching 
 
TRAVELLING BY ROAD AND RIVER. 29 
 
 along for several miles, with nothing to break the line 
 of view. Pausing here until one of the men had 
 partially recovered, I made him take the chair upon his 
 back and follow me ; and the other I stuck up against 
 a rock to fend for himself. My companion’s endeavour 
 to carry that chair properly would have made the most 
 sober temperance lecturer lose his gravity. By the 
 time we reached an eating-house on the farther side 
 of the plain we saw No. 2 on the far horizon, doing 
 his utmost to make up for lost time, and an hour 
 sufficed to bring him up moderately sober. When we 
 arrived at the city I paid them their stipulated fare, 
 contenting myself with adding a little teetotal dis- 
 course ; but they amazed me by asking for more. 
 4 What ! ’ I said, ‘ you dare to ask an extra fee after 
 compelling me to walk for miles, and delaying me for 
 several hours ! * * But think, teacher,’ one of them 
 
 said with a broad grin, * think what a trouble we have 
 had to get you along ! ’ 
 
 There is no regular tariff for chairs on any road. One 
 of the first things the traveller has to learn is how to 
 hire a chair and baggage-men, so as not to pay very 
 much more than the recognized rate. The Chinaman 
 looks upon a foreigner as lawful prey, and as the victim 
 does not make his appearance every day, advantage 
 must be taken of the present opportunity. The process 
 is very properly called ‘squeezing.’ They seem to 
 imagine the foreigner is loaded with dollars. When he 
 comes on the scene the name of money becomes kun 
 (silver) rather than chien (bronze cash). Times without 
 number we have heard passers-by on road and river 
 congratulate our men on the ‘good job’ they have on 
 hand, feeling sure the stranger could not have escaped 
 
30 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 at least a small amount of 4 squeezing.’ ‘ Ha ! Lo-ah ! 
 Ten dollars that job ? ’ It is probably not more than 
 one or two dollars ; but our men laugh back the jest, 
 ‘ It has a shadow — it is real — forty dollars, you mean ! ’ 
 As a rule, missionaries expect to pay half as much again 
 as a native gentleman. The plan is a wise one, for the 
 extra sum is very small, and the hard-working coolies 
 keep on good terms with us. We have known foreign 
 merchants pay eight and ten times the proper fare ; but 
 the Chinese do not respect them any more for their 
 reckless expenditure, and are only demoralized by it . 1 
 
 It is not always easy to secure chair-bearers even by 
 offering an extra gratuity. I was travelling in a region 
 through which Europeans passed only once or twice a 
 year ; and wishing to walk a good deal, was hiring as 
 best I could for a few miles now and then. I arrived 
 at mid-day at a rice-shop on the top of a high hill, 
 and while discussing my dinner of rice and pea-nuts 
 announced to the crowd of chattering Celestials that 
 it would harmonize with my wishes if I could have a 
 chair to the next stage, distant six miles. Ten chairs 
 immediately blocked up all available space, and many 
 voices pleaded for the favour of my patronage. Which 
 chair would I have ? I said I would have that chair for 
 riding in which I should have to pay two hundred cash, 
 — say, eighteenpence. Every face changed to a look 
 of incredulity at my innocence, injury at my audacity, 
 
 1 In the journals of the late Mr. Margery, who was so unfortunately 
 murdered in Yunnan in 1875, there is a note of the reason for his 
 careful expenditure in chair-hiring in country places. He says he was 
 thinking of the missionaries who might travel the same road after him , 
 and was afraid of creating a ‘precedent which might press heavily on 
 their slender purses. It was a little act of consideration which reveals 
 the character of the man, and explains the universal esteem in which 
 he was held. 
 
TRAVELLING BY ROAD AND RIVER. 
 
 31 
 
 and defiance at my expectations. ‘ Two hundred cash 
 indeed ! The thing could not be done. There was not 
 a bearer in the whole place who might, could, would, 
 or should stir a foot on the road until five hundred 
 cash was promised/ When they had exhausted their 
 expressions of astonishment, and the play was almost 
 acted out, I said quietly, ‘ Look here, friends, I am not 
 a stranger to your customs. You think I ought to offer 
 one hundred cash, and you to demand five hundred, and 
 then we are to waste half an hour in chaffering about it, 
 you gradually lowering your figure, and I raising mine, 
 until at last we settle that the fare shall be three hun- 
 dred or thereabout. But our foreign fashion is different. 
 I am not going to haggle with you about the price. 
 Your own people would never think of paying more 
 than one hundred and fifty, I offer two hundred ; who 
 will go?’ No, not one of them. But when they see 
 me unexcited and firm, one man suggests that perhaps 
 he was mistaken in saying the distance was ten miles, 
 and he is willing to accept four hundred and fifty. For 
 three quarters of an hour the discussion breaks out 
 afresh at intervals, while my baggage-bearer takes his 
 mid-day nap. At length we get up to walk, begging 
 them to be seated in their own chairs. When they see 
 me and my man fairly started, many voices clamour 
 aloud, 4 Teacher, three hundred!’ ‘No; I have said 
 it — two hundred/ They make a show of removing the 
 chairs, murmuring, ‘The man is hard/ By the time 
 we are clear of the village, and beginning to descend 
 the hill, one of them rushes forward, screaming frantic- 
 ally, ‘ Teacher, two hundred and eighty!’ ‘No; two 
 hundred/ ‘ Two hundred and fifty ! ’ Ido not return 
 an answer, but proceed some three hundred yards, when 
 
32 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE hV CHINA. 
 
 from the top of the hill comes a shout, — ‘Teacher, 
 teacher, stop ! — two hundred and twenty/ I motion 
 with my hands a sign of refusal, and go on. But 
 presently my servant calls to me that two men are 
 running downhill with a chair. I wait till they come, 
 and then quietly ask, ‘Two hundred?’ ‘All right, 
 teacher — two hundred/ Again they sigh, ‘ This man 
 
 is hard/ Whereupon I take my seat, and there are no 
 recriminations or apologies on either side. 
 
 When chair-bearers are hired for a trip which will 
 extend to several days or weeks, it is very advisable to 
 have an agreement drawn up in due form, and stamped 
 with an official seal. Such a document can be had 
 for the merest tride, and will prevent a great deal of 
 possible trouble. It is no slight ordeal to be surrounded 
 by a set of Chinese coolies, frenzied with assumed indig- 
 nation at the shortcomings of the ‘foreign guest/ A 
 great deal of patience is needed by the traveller, not 
 merely because so much time is exhausted on the 
 journey, but as the result of unavoidable incidents and 
 accidents. Quite unconsciously one falls into the habit 
 of talking of distance not by long measure, but by time 
 measure. Such an l such a town is so many hours or 
 days away. On well-known routes we can generally 
 calculate the length of the journey to an hour, but when 
 it comes to a week or so, we may find ourselves wrong 
 by a whole day. The opportunity of a clean location 
 for a night is a most material factor in deciding whether 
 a single day’s trip is long or short. 
 
 From what we have sai l it will be evident that the 
 traveller in China has several rules to learn, very 
 simple, yet affecting his peace of mind to a serious 
 degree; such as, never be in a hurry; get along as 
 
TRAVELLING BY ROAD AND RIVER. 
 
 33 
 
 quickly as you can, but remember that to ‘hasten 
 slowly ’ is the best policy in a sedan-chair ; never bring 
 railing accusations against the roads, or if you do, make 
 a jest of their defects, for there they are, you cannot 
 improve them, and the Chinese will not. Above all, 
 never get out of temper, for that will only puzzle the 
 Chinaman and distress yourself. When you have 
 learned to accept with composure the many deficiencies 
 of roads, chairs, baggage-men, chair-bearers, eating- 
 houses, inns, and weather, you will have advanced a 
 long way towards perfection. 
 
 The subject changes completely when we turn from 
 speaking of travelling by land to travelling by water. 
 There is no other country in the world that possesses 
 such magnificent waterways as China. Not only has it 
 rivers that run their steady course for upwards of a 
 thousand miles, like that ‘ Son-of-the-Sea/ the Yang- 
 tsze-kiang, but the whole land is covered with a network 
 of canals and water-courses, which connect town with 
 town, and afford at the same time ample supplies for 
 irrigation of the paddy fields. It is probably true that 
 there are daily as many travellers by water as by land. 
 Even the large towns are veined with channels, which 
 provide a transit route for goods and passengers. In this 
 connection should be mentioned also the Grand Canal, 
 the most useful public work the Chinese ever constructed, 
 which for 650 miles unites countless towns and villages 
 that, but for its friendly aid, would be strangers to one 
 another. The many great lakes, with the rivers which 
 run into them, are also means of bringing distant places 
 near. Too frequently the rivers, which look very fine 
 after a spell of wet weather, are found difficult of 
 
 D 
 
34 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA . 
 
 navigation after drought. The undredged detritus of 
 millenniums makes them more treacherous year by year. 
 
 The Chinese have a system of conveyance by means 
 of public ‘ passage-boats ’ as complete as any of our 
 own. At regular hours, or at the suitable state of 
 the tide, heavy junks loaded with passengers come and 
 go upon the bays, rivers, and creeks. The jetties 
 are crowded with friends and idlers who witness the 
 departure and arrival of the boats. The smallness of 
 the fare is sometimes almost incredible, ten cash (one 
 halfpenny) sufficing for thirty or forty miles. 
 
 At such a fare one must not expect to have the 
 whole deck to oneself, nor to be accommodated in a 
 saloon cabin. The desirability of life-insurance also 
 suggests itself to the practical foreign mind. It may 
 be that the comfort of passengers is an idea that the 
 f boat-chief’ has seldom indulged ; and it is too much to 
 be feared that his trust in Providence becomes sublime 
 when an extra score of candidates for the voyage 
 appear in view. I once stood on the deck of a passage- 
 boat for seven hours, in company with 160 Chirlamen, 
 while the sea washed up to my knees, destroying my 
 provisions and books, and the vessel lurched over to 
 such a degree that it was as much as we could do to 
 keep on deck. 
 
 Given fair weather and a breeze astern, however, 
 and who minds a little inconvenience ? In such cir- 
 cumstances a common passage-boat is luxurious com- 
 pared with the monotony of a sedan-chair. The fine 
 river-boats of Canton are roomy and well furnished. A 
 private cabin may be engaged for a small extra fee. 
 The ever- varying scenes of the beautiful shores pass 
 rapidly by. The elegant junk looks down upon the 
 
rowed with six oars and with a great wooden propeller 
 astern, farewell to all pleasant pictures and dreams ; we 
 need resignation and a library. 
 
 In connection with the missions situated where the 
 
 water communication is good, a mission-boat becomes a 
 
 D 2 
 
 TRAVELLING BY ROAD AND RIVER. 35 
 
 blue waves through its two great eyes, which are always 
 painted on the prow. The sailors and passengers keep 
 up a pleasant sing-song of conversation. One finds 
 time to think when on the water, and the wind is fair. 
 But if we are beating up against wind and tide, possibly 
 
 THE CAPTAIN OP THE GOSPEL-BOAT. 
 
3 & 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 necessity. In many places, such as Amoy, Foochow, 
 and Ningpo, more than half the mission journeys are 
 by water. The boat in this case does duty as a 
 carriage, hotel, reception-room, chapel, and book depot. 
 Anchored in the broad stream, or resting upon the mud 
 in an unlovely creek, the Gospel-boat provides a tiny 
 home for the ‘messengers of the churches * when on 
 their evangelistic and pastoral tours. Not even then, 
 by the way, are they quite clear of discomforts, for the 
 armies of mosquitoes that infest the banks, and the 
 multifarious sounds of a landing-place, are foes of 
 quietude and peace. But the boat is a palace com- 
 pared with the sleeping-room of a chapel or inn, and 
 the most sensitive nerves become hardened by custom 
 and resolution. 
 
 Shooting the rapids is the kind of travelling that 
 is most interesting of all. In many directions around 
 Amoy there is opportunity of experiencing the excite- 
 ment of such a journey. The rivers rise among the 
 hills several hundred miles to the north, west, and south. 
 In some places the rocks are so numerous and so close 
 together that no boat can pass even when the river is 
 at its fullest, and the journey has to be continued over 
 the hill to the point where boats are able once more to 
 ply. Sometimes, too, the fall is too great to allow of 
 any kind of craft except the great rafts of timber going 
 over them. All passengers must then alight while the 
 boat is let down carefully by means of bamboo ropes. 
 
 Such a journey sometimes proves to be more ex- 
 citing than one would desire. My first experience was 
 peculiarly unfortunate. The boat was not suited to 
 anything but level water, being only a shallow punt 
 some twenty feet long and seven broad. In this were 
 
TRAVELLING BY ROAD AND RIVER. 
 
 3 7 
 
 stowed twenty-seven passengers, about half a ton of 
 crockery, three sedan-chairs, onr baggage, and a lot of 
 luggage belonging to the Chinese passengers. There 
 was literally not room to turn round. Before starting 
 we protested against the overcrowding of the boat, but to 
 no purpose. Happily the slope of the water at the falls 
 was not very serious. At the first we grated ominously 
 on the rocks. At the second we ran on the top of 
 a sunken rock, and stuck fast for seventeen minutes. 
 We should all have been overthrown had there been 
 room to fall. What were we to do ? A more ludicrous 
 sight it would be hard to find than twenty-seven human 
 beings, packed as close as they can stand, stranded in 
 the middle of a rapid stream. The captain found means 
 to convey to shore eight men (say, 1200 lbs. weight). 
 The boat being lightened to that extent, floated off 
 the rock, and we who retained our places were so hard- 
 hearted we would not allow our late fellow-travellers to 
 return. For a mile or two they ran along the shore 
 near to us, exhausting their vocabulary of abuse and 
 satire. 
 
 One of the most interesting journeys on the rapids 
 near Amoy is from the city of Ling-yang, near to the 
 centre of the Fuh-kien province. The falls extend over 
 somewhat more than a hundred miles from Ling-yang 
 to Chiu-loa (‘ End of Rapids ’). There is a course of 
 some twelve to twenty miles of the river over which no 
 boat can go. The river mission-boat can go as far as 
 Nia-tau, from which point a pass over the mountain- 
 side leads to Te-houg, one of the most important tea 
 marts in Fuh-kien, where many roads meet. Here the 
 river becomes practicable once more, except when it is 
 dangerously full, or so shallow as not to cover the rocks. 
 
33 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 At many points there are magnificent pools, deep, em- 
 bowered among the trees, or shut in by high cliffs, and 
 sometimes so full of fish that one cannot wash one’s 
 hands without a number of gills pressing for food. At 
 a place called ‘ The Eleven Pools ’ there is a magnificent 
 chasm through which the river runs. It is almost 
 horse-shoe in shape, with cliffs from 200 to 400 feet in 
 height, and the hills rise somewhat abruptly beyond that. 
 The boatmen said the sun never shines into the chasm 
 
 MIA-TAU. 
 
 in summer for more than an hour in the day. All 
 passengers must disembark here, and make their way 
 for half a mile by a narrow path cut in the face of the 
 cliff to a point where a loaded boat may again safely 
 pass. In the chasm is a shrine to the memory of a 
 mandarin who was wrecked there and lost his life. 
 Our boatmen pulled up to the rock to burn a few 
 incense sticks. Few, if any, would dare to pass this 
 
TRAVELLING BY ROAD AND RIVER. 39 
 
 point without propitiating the spirit of the dead. 
 What sort of a notion can they have of the morals 
 of their deceased friends, seeing that they must needs 
 always keep on the right side of them by means of 
 joss-sticks, paper-money, and crackers ? While being 
 rowed across a long pool we took advantage of the 
 relief to the pilot’s attention to ask him how many 
 wrecks take place a year, and he said, ‘ Only one boat 
 in a thousand in the year.’ If that is really so, it is a 
 high testimony to the skill of the pilots. The bed of 
 the stream consists of rock throughout almost the 
 whole course from Ling-yang to Chiu-loa. It requires 
 no slight effort of memory to remember the exact 
 position of all the rocks, sunken and otherwise, in a 
 distance of many tens of miles. 
 
 The run from Ling-yang occupied twenty-two hours, 
 spread over three days. From Ling-yang to Chiang- 
 ping there are just one hundred and fifty falls, water- 
 slides, and rapids; and from Chiang-ping to Te-hong 
 thirty-six of the larger sort and innumerable smaller 
 ones. Many of these imply a difference in level of 
 not more than three feet, whereas not a few are inclined 
 planes of from a hundred yards to a quarter of a mile, 
 down which the boat shoots with a velocity of, perhaps, 
 twelve miles an hour. The mountain towns and vil- 
 lages on the banks of this river are at a considerable 
 elevation, indicated not only by the steep descent of 
 the water, but also by the low temperature as compared 
 with the sea level. 
 
 A boat for the rapids is built of pine-wood, flat- 
 bottomed, three feet broad in the water and five feet 
 at the top of the gunwales, which are three feet high 
 and inclined outwards, to throw off the spray of the 
 
confidence in the pilot. His intimate acquaintance with 
 the exact position of every one of the ten thousand rocks 
 we pass each hour, and his surprising skill in avoiding 
 them, so command our admiration that we forget the 
 dangers of the journey. 
 
 The process of shooting the rapids is at first fright- 
 fully exciting. One is apt to indulge that harmless 
 notion of the beginner that one is doing something 
 exceedingly venturesome ; but after a score or two of 
 
 40 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 cascades. The pilot stands at the prow, wielding an oar 
 thirty feet long, most delicately balanced by a mass of 
 stone, so that only about three feet of the thirty are on 
 board. The blade is crescent-shaped. If it comes in 
 contact with a sunken rock it readily slips over it. 
 With a single stroke of this sweep-oar he is able, in a 
 second, to alter the course of the boat, and to guide it 
 through the most tortuous passages among the rocks. 
 It is necessary, for one’s peace of mind, to have implicit 
 
 SHOOTING THE EAPIDS. 
 
TRAVELLING BY ROAD AND RIVER. 
 
 41 
 
 falls have been safely passed, one remains resigned and 
 calm in shooting the most boisterous cascade. No one, 
 however, knows better than the pilot that the danger 
 of careless boating is extreme. When nearing a fall or 
 water-slide the pilot stands rigid at the prow holding 
 the sweep-oar, while with one hand he makes signs 
 over his shoulder to the steersman. A sudden hush 
 falls upon the occupants of the boat, which sways to 
 and fro with the force of the hurtling waters. Above 
 the deafening roar are heard certain shrill, sharp mono- 
 syllables from the lips of the pilot ; and we know that 
 a movement of the long craft six inches in the wrong 
 direction would break it up like an egg-shell, and spill 
 us all into the frothy fangs of a rock-bound chasm. 
 Such a sensation comes over us then, as I suppose 
 soldiers feel when they stand in battle amid a shower 
 of leaden hail. At one moment we are being hurled 
 like a dart at a massive rock in mid-stream, up the 
 sides of which the water is trying to climb, and it 
 seems to us that the next second must see the wreck- 
 age of the boat, and its struggling passengers scattered 
 in the foam ; but a sharp, timely stroke of the long oar 
 throws us into another channel, and we are gliding down- 
 hill amid the thunder of the water broken into myriads 
 of foam-crested waves, and presently reach a quiet pool 
 shut in by pleasant wooded hills or craggy cliffs, where 
 utter silence reigns between two cataracts. Then the 
 buzz of conversation breaks out afresh, as we are rowed 
 gently over the placid stream towards the next fall. 
 
42 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 CHINESE INNS. 
 
 The unsophisticated traveller who finds himself com- 
 pelled to pass the night in a Chinese inn rebels against 
 the application of the word 4 inn * or 4 hotel ’ to such 
 a place of entertainment. That, let us say again, is 
 simply because of the prejudices of the civilized Briton. 
 If he will take a Webster’s dictionary and turn to the 
 word inn , he will find that he has not been deceived by 
 his Chinese host. There it is written that an inn is 4 a 
 place of shelter,’ and he will not deny that the three 
 or four walls have a roof on them, if somewhat leaky. 
 Another definition is, 4 a house for the lodging and 
 entertainment of travellers,’ and it is surely a most 
 full and accurate description of the commodity supplied. 
 We should, however, be obliged discreetly to pass over 
 a note which reads, 4 It has been judicially defined as 
 a house where a traveller is furnished with everything 
 for which he has occasion when on his way.’ That is 
 the point where the Chinese hostelry fails : it does not 
 furnish you with the things you desire, but it supplies 
 you over-abundantly with the things you dislike and 
 wish to avoid. Charles Kingsley, writing to Mr. Thomas 
 Hughes, describes his hotel in Wales as 4 the divinest 
 
CHINESE INNS. 43 
 
 pigstye under the canopy/ Charles Kingsley had not 
 been in China ! 
 
 But we must not seem to write Tckel , ‘ thou art 
 found wanting/ over every entrance-door, especially as 
 there is a benediction rudely written on red paper 
 posted there already. Like the private houses, inns 
 are of every description and quality* We are told that 
 in early Saxon * inn ’ meant a palace, and thence 
 originated the names Lincoln’s Inn, Clifford’s Inn, 
 and so on. There are hotels which in Chinese eyes 
 are elegant mansions, and in comparison with the 
 ordinary kind deserve to be called The Grand, or The 
 Metropolitan, or The Palace Hotel. Some of these 
 go by the name of Mandarin Hotels, because they 
 are kept ready for the use of travelling magistrates, 
 and are not open to every class of the public. They 
 are roomy, airy, the floors tiled, and the rooms screened 
 off with carved frames covered with tissue-paper. From 
 these spacious and ventilated buildings there is a 
 descent to the dark, damp, and malodorous sheds at 
 the service of ordinary travellers, who herd together 
 anyhow, and pay their twenty or thirty cash with only 
 a passing reference to the toad-stools in the floor, and 
 the peculiar liveliness of the lodgers who do not pay 
 for their accommodation, except sometimes with their 
 life. 
 
 But we ought to beware of being harsh in our 
 judgment, although these hotels are so inferior to our 
 own. We have rather to consider the completeness 
 of the contrast between the social arrangements in our 
 own country and in China, and to remember that the 
 subject we are discussing is only one of the features in 
 that contrast. The least inviting of our hotels would 
 
44 E VER YD A Y LIFE IN CHINA . 
 
 be preferable to the dreadful probabilities of the best 
 inns upon many a Chinese main road. The reason 
 simply is that they do not seem to understand comfort, 
 in our sense of the term. The word comfort of course 
 exists in the language, but they do not mean by it what 
 we do. With all their intelligence, their considerable 
 degree of skill in the social arts, and the very marked 
 decorum and courtesy of many of their households, they 
 have introduced very few of what we call luxuries. 
 They are probably none the worse off on that account. 
 It would be a decided mistake and misfortune to ex- 
 change their present simple habits for our more compli- 
 cated and expensive style of living. The requirements 
 of the climate are not the same as ours, and the 
 necessity of living cheaply leads them to think only of 
 necessaries in the furnishing of house and table. In 
 the We*t we submit to a great variety of discomforts 
 in our dress in obedience to the dictates of public 
 opinion ; one sex in certain grades of society disregard- 
 ing the simplest laws of health, and incurring very 
 serious expense in providing — not clothing, but dress; 
 but the Chinese of both sexes commonly adapt their 
 costume to their circumstances and occupations, and dress 
 with an elegance, simplicity, and ease that allow little 
 room for criticism. In putting on and taking off their 
 dress people in our middle and upper classes of society 
 spend, on a very moderate computation, something like 
 two whole weeks out of the fifty-two ; while as for the 
 time and labour expended in giving starchiness and 
 discomfort to certain articles of clothing, we shrink 
 from entering upon a calculation so difficult and un- 
 certain. The Chinaman and Chinawoman, on the other 
 hand, are fully dressed in less than five minutes after 
 
CHINESE INNS. 
 
 45 
 
 rising in the morning. We cover our tables with viands 
 and wines which are not absolute necessaries, and which 
 take a great deal of time and skill to prepare, while the 
 number and variety of the implements by means of 
 which we partake of our food would furnish words for 
 several pages of a dictionary ; but the Chinaman with 
 half a dozen pots and pans, a dozen rice-bowls, and a 
 pile of chopsticks, is ready to cook and to dispose of an 
 elaborate and respectable meal. And if we were to 
 talk of furnishing, the contrast would become greater 
 still, since we crowd our rooms with furniture, lumber- 
 ing them with odds and ends and Iric-d-hrac, often not 
 pleasing to the eye and decidedly inconvenient, — laying 
 carpets and hanging curtains, which are stores for dust, 
 damp, and staleness, but which must be provided if the 
 rooms are to be ‘ respectable ’ ; whereas our Chinese 
 brother will furnish a w*hole house for a few tens of 
 dollars, and never gives a thought to more than a dozen 
 or two of the thousand items that the upholsterer, 
 ironmonger, earthenware-dealer, dressmaker, &c., &c., 
 assure us are absolutely necessary. 
 
 Even the mandarins and wealthy gentry live in a 
 plain and frugal fashion, which would astonish our 
 English housekeepers, who are so frequently in bondage 
 to that worst of tyrants, ‘ what will people say ? * The 
 palace of a viceroy ruling twenty to fifty millions has 
 a tiled floor, straight-backed flat-bottomed chairs, a 
 lounge covered with nothing softer than a plantain-leaf 
 mat, and windows of tissue-paper or split oyster-shell. 
 Even he dines with the aid of bowl and chopsticks. 
 On one occasion I was the guest of a military mandarin 
 in an inland city, who, like our own civil magistrates, 
 was engaged in business — as a wholesale tea-dealer. 
 
46 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 The house was very handsome. The central hall would 
 have seated two hundred people. A gallery admitted 
 to the private apartments. The bedsteads were richly 
 gilt. A dozen mantelpiece clocks were scattered about 
 the house. Yet this grand and courteous gentleman 
 sat down to table with his general servant, who was 
 cook, housemaid, and errand-boy, all in one. In as 
 delicate a manner as possible I remarked to the servant 
 on this simplicity of the ‘ great officer/ and with a look 
 of surprise he remarked, ‘Why not ? we share our eating 
 expenses ! * After this, it was not surprising to see the 
 wealthy patriarch carry his shutters into the street at 
 dusk, and put them up himself, because the servant 
 was busy lighting the incense-sticks before the house- 
 hold gods. 
 
 Chinese inns, like the private houses, contain only 
 such furniture as is needful. This is as true in regard 
 to the better sort as of the common lodging-houses. 
 One of the Kong-kwan, or official inns, reserved for 
 the use of mandarins, is occasionally engaged for a 
 night by missionaries from Amoy, when it is certain 
 that no mandarins will be coming. On entering through 
 an archway, guarded with heavy gates, we find ourselves 
 in a court whose length is the whole width of the 
 building. To right and left against the road are the 
 lodgings of the innkeeper, the kitchens and wood stores. 
 Before us, on a higher level, are more heavy gates, like 
 those we have just passed through. Trellis-work, painted 
 various bright colours, and pasted over on the inner side 
 with white paper, forms the partition wall on either side 
 of the gates. Within these, we find ourselves in the 
 main building. On either side are rooms for the suite 
 of the magistrate. Crossing a small court, partly covered 
 
CHINESE INNS. 
 
 47 
 
 over, we enter the audience-chamber, or guest-room, 
 where the great man takes his meals in the presence of 
 the gods. His bed-chamber, a large and airy apartment, 
 is on one side of this, and a room of the same size on 
 the other. The whole of the building, with the excep- 
 tion of the outer court, is neatly paved with red tiles. 
 The only furniture in the sitting-room is a shrine with 
 idols, flowers, and incense -jars, a table, two wooden 
 arm-chairs, and two benches without backs ; and in each 
 bedroom a four-poster, a table, and a chair. 
 
 In villages and country towns the inns are seldom 
 more than one story high. As a rule, only in large 
 towns where every foot of space is valuable do our 
 Celestial friends put themselves to the trouble of 
 climbing to an upper floor. Pictures of European 
 houses rising to a height of five and more stories surprise 
 them greatly. It is said that an emperor once asked 
 the British ambassador whether it was the smallness of 
 our territory that compelled us to build so high ! A 
 fine house in China does not mean one that towers 
 aloft, or has a noble frontage, but one that covers a 
 large space of ground. One of the best houses we 
 ever visited, which was said to have cost ten thousand* 
 English pounds, was almost an acre in extent, but no 
 part of the roof exceeded twenty to thirty feet in 
 height. 
 
 The eating-houses at the various stages of a main 
 road belong to the general denomination of inns and 
 hotels. Where the restaurant stands alone, or almost 
 alone, and not in a town or village, it is most commonly 
 located under the luxuriant branches of a banyan 
 tree, whose shade in summer is most grateful to the 
 sunburnt coolies. Often there is a group of some six 
 
48 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 or eiglit of these rude buildings. There are only three 
 walls and a roof, all perfectly black with the dirt and 
 smoke of generations, if not of centuries. The table 
 and benches seem to be in the same condition. Pigs 
 and dogs wander among the throng of human beings. 
 A few beggars, exhibiting their deformities and diseases, 
 or blind persons, call the attention of the benevolent. 
 The itinerant seller of cakes and sweetmeats is driving 
 a leisurely trade, although he is making a great noise 
 about it. The chattering crowd of dirty, good-humoured 
 people are not at all shy of talking to strangers. Every 
 Chinaman in Fuh-kien addresses every other as though 
 he had known him all his life. The topic in most cases 
 is, of course, that all-important, universal and endless 
 one — cash. I called them good-humoured, but a stranger 
 would not think so, if he saw such a crowd for the first 
 time. On the contrary, the state of things seems to be 
 bordering on a riot. The amount of energy that lies 
 latent in a Chinaman, waiting to be developed and 
 manifested by a discussion on cash, is simply incalcu- 
 lable. The most commonplace and innocent-looking 
 person presently speaks as though he were addressing 
 a very deaf audience; nor does he talk with his lips 
 only, but with every muscle of his face and body. As 
 we coolly regard this throng of half-dressed, copper- 
 coloured people, we see chance acquaintances, who have 
 run against one another for half an hour, screaming 
 their loudest, with distorted countenances and violent 
 gesticulations, apparently threatening immediate death 
 to those who differ from them. It seems incredible 
 that the subject is of no more importance than whether 
 a sack of potatoes or basket of fish shall be half a 
 farthing more or less. 
 
CHINESE INNS. 
 
 49 
 
 Imagine our coming suddenly into such a crowd, 
 in a short serge jacket and big sun-hat, under which 
 is a pale face and beard. If the place is one where 
 foreigners are occasionally seen, they will look up, say, 
 * Hwan-kui * (foreign ghost), and after a few moments 
 resume their employment as though we were not there. 
 If, however, foreigners are almost unknown in those 
 parts, we know perfectly well that we shall have no 
 peace except such as we can secure by means of a 
 little manoeuvring. Sometimes the landlord appears 
 pleased to receive us, but now and then he seems 
 to think we take up too much room, with the crowd 
 who stand round to look at us. It is very enter- 
 taining to observe how excited such a crowd often 
 becomes by the advent of a foreigner, and how rapidly 
 the news spreads to neighbouring houses that a ‘ foreign 
 ghost’ has arrived. Mine host stands and threatens 
 terrible things, which he has not the smallest intention 
 of carrying into execution. For half an hour he will 
 shout and gesticulate, entreating the untutored herd to 
 remember the proprieties, and not crowd in so much 
 upon the foreign gentleman. 
 
 The point of greatest interest is always reached when 
 the traveller begins his meal. He has carried with him 
 all he wants with the exception of rice, potatoes, hot 
 water, and one or two other things. The laying out of 
 plates, knives and forks is a great mystery. Much 
 questioning goes on as to the way of using them. They 
 beg to know the reason why we prefer to employ a man 
 to carry all our apparatus for dinner, instead of using 
 their bowls and chopsticks. The spoon and fork, 
 apparently made of solid silver, greatly astonishes them, 
 and the traveller is ready enough to own that they are 
 
 E 
 
So 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA . 
 
 not silver at all. When we lift our food to our mouth , 
 many hands move in a similar way, as they say quietly 
 to one another, * Look ! he .is doing like this ! * Stand- 
 ing so closely around our small table that we feel incon- 
 venienced, we entreat them to give us breathing room 
 while we dine, and afterwards we will talk to them. 
 Many voices break forth with pleasure at our speaking 
 to them. ‘ The foreigner speaks our words/ says one ; 
 ‘Yes, let him eat/ says another; ‘Stand back, you 
 man without propriety/ says a third, whose zeal for 
 good manners is evidently due only to his desire to 
 secure a front place. 
 
 At such a time one is almost always questioned in 
 the same way. There is a stock list of subjects about 
 which the average Chinaman when he meets a foreigner 
 is very anxious to be informed. Not, as the good sup- 
 porters of missions would like to be told, ‘What is 
 your object in coming among us? Is your doctrine 
 better than that of our great Confucius ? * The 
 most trivial and ridiculous questions are asked. The 
 inquiries they make of a foreigner are such as they 
 commonly make among themselves. ‘How far is it 
 to your ancestral home ? Are your venerable parents 
 living ? How many sons have you ? Was your linen 
 made in China or in England ? How do you get it so 
 white ? Is it true your emperor is a woman ? How 
 are marriages arranged among the foreign children ? 
 What is your income ? * A little mild banter is much 
 appreciated by the crowd, but brings out a more rapid 
 fusillade of questions. In the country places about 
 Amoy I have been asked very frequently, ‘Where is 
 the country where the people have one leg ? — one arm ? 
 — oije eye ? — and where there are only women ? Have 
 
CHINESE INNS. 
 
 51 
 
 you seen these lands ? ’ What the origin of these 
 notions is it is hard to say. Perhaps some Chinese 
 Baron Munchausen or Dean Swift wrote a burlesque 
 book of travels, which has in the course of time been 
 accepted as authentic by a people who have for so many 
 centuries stayed at home. 
 
 Dinner over, we take advantage of the concourse of 
 people to say a few words on the theme nearest and 
 dearest to the Christian heart. Moving to such a 
 position that we shall not interfere with the business of 
 the restaurant, we sit upon a table and begin to explain 
 for what purpose we have come to reside in their ancient 
 land. * That is what our hearts desire to know,’ says 
 some man, who imagines we are buying tea or prospect- 
 ing for gold. He has an idea that every foreigner can 
 see three feet into the hill-side, and can tell at a glance 
 what there is in it. ‘ Be silent, all ! ’ he exclaims. As 
 we proceed to explain that our doctrine is not opposed 
 to anything that is good, but includes all good, and is 
 the best doctrine in the world, having come from God, 
 and commends itself to the good heart, our friend, 
 who has installed himself as my herald and verger, 
 remarks respectfully, but in a somewhat disappointed 
 tone, ‘Heh! The gentleman is one of the Jesus sect 
 shepherd-teachers, — a man who speaks doctrine.’ So 
 we proceed with our discourse, asking them occasionally 
 whether the doctrine is not good, and whether they 
 believe it; to which they courteously reply, ‘It is ex- 
 tremely good,’ though probably they have heard scarcely 
 a word, having been engaged upon a totally different 
 line of thought all the while. To a beginner such 
 preaching is often most disappointing. One discovers, 
 on questioning them, that they have not listened at all. 
 
52 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 Perhaps some one person among them does seem to 
 be drinking in our words, and as we speak we insensibly 
 fall to addressing our remarks directly to him; our 
 heart prays that he may receive the truth ; we press 
 the Gospel message upon him ; we entreat him not to 
 fear to believe and accept the salvation offered to him ; 
 he seems to be more and more deeply impressed, until 
 at length he makes a sign that he wishes to speak, and 
 he asks, ‘ Teacher, were you born with a beard ? * or 
 ‘ Why do not your people shave their heads, as we do ? ’ 
 At such seasons the missionary is obliged to cheer 
 himself with the fact that the sower does not make the 
 seed to grow, and that he has only to scatter it, hoping 
 that some may fall into good grouud, although much 
 withers in the stony ground, and more is caught away 
 by the birds. No Christian labourer feels more deeply 
 than the missionary to the heathen the duty of ‘ sowing 
 beside all waters/ and the experience of none proves 
 to him more clearly that we ‘ know not whether shall 
 prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall 
 be alike good.’ All he has to do is to obey the com- 
 mand, ‘ In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening 
 withhold not thy hand/ 
 
 Many missionaries feel that preaching in such a place 
 and under such circumstances is truly a scattering 
 of the seed rather than a sowing of it. The incessant 
 chatter of the audience, as well as of the crowd around, 
 and their insatiable curiosity as to indifferent matters, 
 render it next to impossible to address them upon 
 the great themes of religion, which demand a serious 
 and steady attention. If half a dozen men can be 
 induced to come and sit in an inner room, to * stare 
 themselves full/ as their idiom puts it, while they drink 
 
CHINESE INNS. 
 
 53 
 
 tea and smoke their pipes, they can sometimes be kept 
 for an hour or two, and a little judicious questioning 
 brings out their difficulties in such a way as cannot 
 possibly be done in a general and busy throng. 
 
 We must, however, come back from this digression 
 to describe the accommodation in the inns at night. 
 As we can only speak of the Fuh-kien province, let 
 Dr. Alexander Williamson tell us of what kind it is 
 north of the Yang-tsze. 'In China every man carries 
 his bedding with him ; in the daytime it helps to pack 
 the cart, or is laid, by way of saddle, upon the ass. 
 The traveller may count himself fortunate if he can 
 find in some Mutual Prosperity or Heavenly Union 
 hostel a tolerable room in which to rest. On the 
 great roads, and at the recognized stages, the inns 
 are pretty sure to be decent, but elsewhere they are 
 often wretched. In those of the better sort there is 
 generally an eating-house or tea-shop on one side of 
 the large door leading into the yard. The shop faces 
 the street, and is connected with the cook-house and 
 private rooms of the landlord. At this end, too, are 
 the rooms occupied by the carters and others. Passing 
 through the great door, the visitor finds himself in a' 
 large unpaved yard with buildings all round it. On 
 one side are, perhaps, six or eight guest-rooms, little 
 boxes about twelve feet square, with paper in place of 
 glass for windows, doors which do not fit, and through 
 the openings of w T hich wind and dust find their way. 
 A very rickety old chair and an equally decrepit table 
 are the only furniture, the bed being simply a brick 
 or mud platform filling nearly half the little room, and 
 raised about two feet from the floor. Underneath it is 
 a flue, into which, in cold weather, dry grass or other 
 
54 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 fuel is pushed and fired, the heat and smoke passing in 
 a zigzag fine just under the surface of the couch, and 
 finally escaping up a vent in the wall. Other fireplace 
 there is none ; and if, as often happens, the chimney 
 should be foul, the warmed bed is but a poor compen- 
 sation for smarting eyes and partial suffocation. But 
 there are other rooms sometimes at the top of the } T ard, 
 and it is always an object to secure them, as they are a 
 trifle larger and cleaner, and probably in better repair. 
 The charges are moderate, from one to two hundred 
 cash per night — about one shilling — with extras for 
 food and gratuities for servants.’ 
 
 In the south the k‘ang , or bed over a flue, is unknown, 
 but the discomforts of the inns are probably exceeded. 
 In one particular at least they agree perfectly, and that 
 is in the magniloquence of the names given to these 
 sleeping-dens. Such resounding titles might seem to 
 suggest that the landlords are men who profess a 
 high degree of integrity, or at least appreciate what is 
 beautiful and good. But it is no more than the fashion 
 of the country. Alas ! for the difference between the 
 outward profession and the inward state. Here you are 
 promised peace, love, truth, and generosity, if you will 
 but enter, though the man and the house contravene 
 all the virtues. I shall always retain a keen and 
 painful recollection of a series of hostelries at which I 
 was compelled to stay during a lengthy tour due north 
 of Amoy. That called Unapproachable Purity, had it 
 been clean, might have been described as an oasis of 
 purity in a desert of filth, and ‘unapproachable’ only 
 in that sense ; but after stepping carefully towards it we 
 found the interior fully agreed with the character of its 
 surroundings. The house of entertainment for man and 
 
CHINESE INNS. 
 
 55 
 
 beast which arrogated to itself the proud title of The 
 River of Abundance, was so ill-provided with the neces- 
 saries of life that mine host could give us literally no 
 food at all, and at a neighbouring rice-shop only a coarse 
 ‘ red-rice ’ was to be had. The boarding which formed 
 the walls on three sides was so damp and decomposed 
 that fungus was growing upon it. Another hotel, famous 
 for the proud possession of an upper floor (into which we 
 climbed, and slept among confused heaps of weaving and 
 agricultural implements and products), was called The 
 Nourishment of Life. It seemed, however, to have 
 been constructed for precisely the opposite purpose. 
 The roof was lifted off the walls some inches on one 
 or more sides, and as I lay on the bed- boards rolled 
 up in a railway rug, the wintry air driving through the 
 room with a chill caught from a considerable elevation 
 above the sea, effectually removed the possibility of 
 sleep, and kept one thinking of how it was possible, 
 under the circumstances, to secure ‘ the nourishment of 
 life/ 
 
 A detailed account of the occurrences of a single 
 night in an inn will explain what sort of experience it 
 is, better than any amount of general reflections. We 
 had been to a part of the province of Fuh-kien visited 
 only once or twice before by a European. Our sleeping 
 accommodation had been varied, — one night wrapped 
 in a rug on the bottom of the boat, with a plantain- 
 leaf mat between us and the sky ; the next in a tea 
 warehouse in the hills ; and the next in a loft, or in a 
 gentleman’s best bedroom. On the evening to which I 
 am about to refer, we were belated on the river through 
 the sluggishness of the stream after drought, and pulled 
 up at the bank to look for shelter. Whether the inn was 
 
56 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 more fit to be a human habitation than the very airy 
 barge, let the reader judge. 
 
 Fourteen of us quitted the boat to walk a quarter of 
 a mile to the village of * Southern Plains/ leaving two 
 men to mind the oars and other properties. There was 
 only one inn. This was a single room, ten paces long 
 and four wide. The walls were of light brown cement, 
 and were evidently ancient, for every particle of the 
 whitewash facing had long since disappeared, and the 
 storms of generations had eaten many ugty holes, which 
 were rudely plastered with mud. The one door and 
 window were innocent of paint, and looked, indeed, as 
 though they had never been honoured by the brush. 
 Inside, the walls and roof and floor were perfectly black 
 with age and dirt. In this small space were three sets 
 of bed-boards, each capable of accommodating three 
 persons, a brick cooking-range without a chimney, 
 several piles of dried grass and pine-wood for fuel, a 
 dozen or so of large jars and tubs, some with rice and 
 potatoes, others filled with rubbish, which has a certain 
 value to the careful Celestial, and under the bed-boards 
 were a pig, several chickens, and a miscellaneous assort- 
 ment of odds and ends, agricultural, domestic, and 
 culinary, apparently in the last stages of decay. The 
 open tile roof was not lofty, but there was an upper floor 
 in it constructed thus : a pole stood in the middle of the 
 room, another, rather stronger, rested on the top of it, 
 and was fastened into the wall, and along this hori- 
 zontal bar boards were arranged, far from securely, their 
 farther ends lying on the ledge formed by the top of 
 the wall. On this loft eleven men mounted to sleep, 
 and we were sixteen in all in the inn ! 
 
 By eight o’clock we had had our supper, and had 
 
CHINESE INNS. 
 
 57 
 
 celebrated evening worship with three Christian natives 
 of the company, — the rest of the party of course making 
 no objection to our singing and prayer. But by this 
 time the atmosphere inside was rather dense. Doubt- 
 less the odours of the room would have been strong 
 enough without our presence ; but with a full house, 
 and a chimney-less stove, and the savours of food, 
 tobacco, and opium, the smell was thick and stifling. 
 It was a brilliant moonlight, and not very cold ; so I 
 spent a pleasant hour outside talking to little groups of 
 persons as to the purpose of our travelling and residing 
 in their country. As far as it was possible to judge, the 
 audience were very sympathetic, and, as in many places, 
 idolatry pure and simple had only the slightest hold of 
 them. Their religion, if such it could be called, con- 
 sisted of certain national forms and local superstitions. 
 On re-entering the inn the smoke had almost cleared 
 off, but my servant was looking perplexed at the set 
 of boards I was to occupy for the night. They were 
 covered with the finest of soot. Smoke had risen to 
 the roof for years and generations, and much of it had 
 settled upon the boards of the loft ; so that when our 
 boat’s crew betook themselves to that higher latitude 
 they shook the soot down like rain upon us who were 
 to pass the night below. Our protests induced the 
 landlord to produce a few mats, which were laid on 
 the loft, and our merry men with good-natured grins 
 promised not to be more restless than they could help. 
 Covering my face with a handkerchief, to catch the 
 falling dust, I lay down hoping to secure a little sleep. 
 Till twelve o’clock, notwithstanding all remonstrances, 
 the party up-stairs continued to chatter at a furious rate, 
 and to smoke tobacco and opium, the fumes of which 
 
53 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 to all but those accustomed to the oily native weed and 
 the filthy drug are insufferably nauseous. 
 
 It was ten minutes to two when a strange noise was 
 heard coming from the loft, as of some one in mortal 
 pain; groans and suppressed soliloquy expressing the 
 agony he was in. I asked what was the matter, but 
 got no reply. At length the sufferer very slowly felt 
 his way to the ladder, and still groaning and muttering 
 descended to the floor. To my disgust, he began to 
 light the fire with grass, and made no reply at all to 
 my protests. In a moment the smoke of the grass rose 
 thick and fast to the region of the up-stairs sleepers, who 
 began to cough and sneeze and choke. Calling to their 
 aid their whole vocabulary of vituperation, they began 
 to consign their absent bed-fellow to every imaginable 
 kind of terrible fate. At last we succeeded in inducing 
 him to explain his unreasonable and unseasonable pro- 
 ceedings. It proved to be our host himself, who said 
 in a whining and anything but apologetic tone : ‘ My 
 stomach is cold ; I want some fire ; I cannot sleep 
 without the charcoal-pan/ It is the custom in cold 
 weather in Fuh-kien for old persons to carry lighted 
 charcoal in an earthen dish, enclosed in a small wicker 
 frame. Sometimes they place it under a low stool and 
 sit over it. They also conceal it within the ample folds 
 of their upper garments. 
 
 Sleep might after this have paid his long-delayed 
 visit, had it not been for the pig under my neighbour’s 
 bed, which had probably slept by day, and therefore was 
 at leisure to move about at night. His trough was 
 close to the post supporting the loft ; and, not content 
 with expressing his pleasure at being able to roam 
 about freely and to sup in peace, he spent the watches 
 
CHINESE INNS. 
 
 59 
 
 of the night in polishing the post. The cock under my 
 bed began to crow at three. You, reader, have possibly 
 sometimes complained of the early piety of your neigh- 
 bour’s fowls, as they performed their noisy matins with 
 the first rays of dawn ; but what would you say to a 
 bird that persists in doing this within a yard of your 
 ears ? The deluded songster carried on a broken con- 
 versation for a full hour with other members of his 
 species in distant houses. By this time the situation 
 had become entertaining. The series of misfortunes 
 had trodden upon one another’s heels so quickly as to 
 trip each other up, and we could only laugh at the 
 ridiculous position we were in. There was nothing to 
 do but to enjoy a good time. Boots, slippers, walking- 
 stick, umbrella, and a wooden ladle, did duty in turn in 
 silencing as far as possible our friends under the beds, 
 or drove them thither from their perambulations round 
 the room. Mine host from his couch drowsily whined, 
 4 Teacher, you will kill that bird,’ to which I replied, 
 
 ‘ What you say has a shadow, and is true/ My servant 
 slew the untimely songster early in the morning, and it 
 appeared at the break fast-table, not a whit the tenderer 
 for the treatment it had received. We rose at five, and 
 returned to the boat at day-break. The charge for 
 our entertainment, including the fuel used in cooking 
 supper for our party and the purchase of the noisy fowl, 
 amounted to one shilling and ninepence, and it was 
 dear at that, especially as a considerable number of the 
 unestimated population of the inn resolved, uninvited, 
 to emigrate to other climes, taking a passage with us, — 
 to our great discomfort and their own destruction. 
 
 From these brief sketches of the hotel-life of China, 
 it is clear that to stay in an inn is usually a painful 
 
6o 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 experience for a European. Unfortunately in drawing 
 a dark picture one has to add that there are no lighter 
 and more pleasant aspects to it. The native disregard 
 of cleanliness is universal. On one occasion, when stay- 
 ing for a few days in a Chinese house inland, I pointed 
 out to my servant the dirty state of the premises, and 
 desired him to go out and buy a broom and wash-bowl. 
 There was not such a thing to be had in any of the 
 scores of villages around ; the nearest town where these 
 needful articles were purchasable was six miles off! 
 Even the houses of the grandees would be described as 
 dirty, were it not that the inferior sort are so much 
 -worse. If one is seeking comfort, the inn should be 
 visited for the sake of observation only, like opium-dens 
 and prisons. The variety of the vermin is sometimes 
 amazing. Besides the smaller fry more commonly 
 known, there are many kinds of spiders, cockroaches, 
 black-beetles, mosquitoes, rats and mice, — and some 
 travellers have even seen a centipede. I once counted 
 ten varieties that called upon me in one night. In 
 addition to all these discomforts, the sleeping-rooms 
 often have no window to let in air and light, and some- 
 times no door to keep out the crowd. A missionary’s 
 trials are not many, if he is blessed with common sense, 
 good-temper, and health, but a night in a Chinese inn 
 is one of them. 
 
 Yet from the missionary point of view there is 
 another side to the question. There is no better way 
 of studying native life and character than in an inn, 
 and no better opportunity of prolonged exposition of 
 Christian truth to a small and manageable audience. 
 In the mission chapels the missionary does not receive 
 visits so frequently as he would like from the class of 
 
CHINESE INNS. 
 
 6 1 
 
 men who can read easily, and who have social influence. 
 The literati, so called, are shy of entering a known 
 Christian house. But they will sometimes come to an 
 inn, and more often they are casually met with in the 
 inns, being themselves on a journey. Some of the best 
 opportunities the writer has ever had of speaking on 
 the Christian faith have been in the country inns. 
 Half-a-dozen gentlemen of leisure have come to present 
 their respects to the teacher. They accept the invita- 
 tion to sit down and sip tea. A quarter of an hour is 
 lost (no, not lost) in talking about indifferent matters, 
 and the customs of the West, and after that two hours 
 may be spent in questioning, instructing, and discussing. 
 Perhaps it is worth while to endure the domestic horrors 
 of the inn for the sake of the facilities it presents for 
 preparing the soil to receive the seed. 
 
 i 
 
62 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE CHINESE NEW YEAR. 
 
 The Chinese take fewer holidays than any nation 
 under heaven. They have many festivals in the course 
 of the year, but these are not general holidays ; they 
 are days of rest or change only to a few. In fact, none 
 of the festivals except that of the New Year can 
 be described as solemn, notable, or even particularly 
 interesting. 
 
 It is needless to say that they do not observe the 
 Sabbath. In ancient times there is no doubt that the 
 custom prevailed. The national almanac, which is found 
 in every home, marks every seventh day as ‘ hidden/ or 
 honourable. Curiously enough, it falls on the Christian 
 Sabbath, so that the worshippers in our mission churches 
 have only to look for the ‘ bit-jit * to know that it is the 
 day of rest and worship. Many persons have marvelled 
 that so active and laborious a people as are the mass of the 
 Chinese can manage to exist without stated periods of rest. 
 But a more accurate observer cannot fail to note that, 
 though they are capable of such great physical energy, 
 they are equally capable of enjoying prolonged periods 
 of leisure. The farmer nominally works from dawn 
 to dusk, but he pauses tw r enty times a day for a few 
 
THE CHINESE NEW YEAR. 
 
 63 
 
 moments’ whiff at his pipe. The boatman is considered 
 a hard-working mortal, but he has his leisure days, 
 when the weather keeps his fares indoors. The chair- 
 bearer lives the most painfully toilsome life, but he 
 rests most religiously for fifteen minutes in every hour. 
 There is no class of the people, however continuous may 
 seem to be their labours, but manage by some means or 
 other to secure their full share of idle hours. We should 
 err, indeed, if we suggested, or seemed to suggest, that 
 the seventh day is not needed as a day of bodily rest ; 
 bub at the same time we have to remember that the 
 first and chief aim of the Divine institution of the 
 Sabbath is to provide opportunity for the converse of 
 man with his God. The soul needs its Sabbath much 
 more than the body. The day is more strictly kept by 
 communion with God than by shutting a shop. It is 
 possible to break a command in the spirit, even though 
 it is kept in the letter. 
 
 The Chinese New Year generally falls in the middle 
 of February; or, more accurately, at the time ‘when 
 the new moon comes nearest to the point in which the 
 sun is in fifteen degrees of Aquarius.’ As the day 
 approaches a remarkable change takes place in the 
 appearance of the town. The counters of the shops are 
 piled up with new dresses and with fancy articles in 
 great variety. Second-hand goods also make their 
 appearance in considerable quantities. These are to be 
 had very cheap, for this is the season when all who can 
 do so are busy paying their debts, and clothing and 
 furniture and everything that can be disposed of is on sale 
 to get the requisite funds. Business is very active. The 
 provision-shops are piled with rich stores of the comes- 
 tibles dear to the palate of the Celestial. Furniture 
 
64 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 dealers, carpenters, and painters are having a good 
 time. Respectable but poverty-stricken literary men 
 are busily engaged in writing mottoes on red paper, to 
 affix to the doors of shops and private bouses. New 
 lanterns are hung over every door where the old ones 
 are grown shabby. The pawnbrokers, pyrotechnists, 
 incense-makers, and priests are full of work. One thing, 
 in particular, is pleasant to see. All seem to have 
 taken a pledge against their normal dirty habits, and to 
 be striving earnestly for reform. As much water is used 
 in the week before New Year’s Day as in several 
 months before. The streets are deluged with the filthy 
 stream that is being swept off the floors of the shops. 
 On every hand the year-long accumulation of mud is 
 being scraped away. The whole empire seems to be 
 recovering its senses in the matter of cleanliness, in 
 preparation for the time when it will lose them again 
 in idleness and revelry. The courts of justice and all 
 public offices close ten days before the old year ends, 
 and do not re-open for thirty days, the portly mandarins 
 giving themselves up to the recreation and dissipation 
 for a whole month. 
 
 On the first day of the first month the people of the 
 Chinese Empire become in the aggregate some three or 
 four hundred millions of years older than they were the 
 day before. This exhausting remark will need a little 
 explanation. 
 
 The Chinese do not reckon their age from the day of 
 birth, but from New Year’s Day. It is on this account 
 sometimes difficult to find out the true age of young 
 children. Here is a tiny shaven-headed bundle of 
 humanity, scarcely able to stand alone for a moment, 
 and you are gravely assured that he is three years old ! 
 
THE CHINESE NEW YEAR . 
 
 65 
 
 If you have left the sacred rules of propriety at home, 
 you venture mildly and politely to cast just a faint 
 shadow of doubt upon the statement; or if you do 
 not discredit the parent’s assertion, but are still unac- 
 quainted with the mode of reckoning, you probably 
 condole with its parents on the slight degree of progress 
 he has made towards maturity. Should a child arrive 
 in this world at five minutes to twelve on New Year’s 
 eve, the fond father will proudly assure you next 
 morning that the new arrival is two years old, and 
 never so much as think that what he says is untrue ! 
 Seeing that clocks are very scarce articles except along 
 the coast, and that even where a clock is found time is 
 a very elastic and variable quantity, one wonders how 
 such matters are determined in certain cases. Perhaps 
 the parents give the child the benefit of the doubt, in 
 their eagerness to add years to his life. The Chinese 
 do not conceal their age, as English men and English 
 women do, nor do they ever try to represent themselves 
 as younger than they are. There is a much stronger 
 tendency to add to the stated number of their }*ears than 
 to diminish it. On being introduced to a new acquaint- 
 ance, the first question is, * What is your distinguished 
 surname ? ’ and the second is, * What is your honourable 
 age ? * You reply to one as readily as to the other. 
 Age is so much respected that it is considered a distinc- 
 tion to be advancing in years. There are eight or ten 
 different names which correspond to ‘ Sir,’ or ‘ Mr.,* 
 according to the appearance of age, or real age, to which 
 a man has attained, and the same for women. Besides, 
 it is a matter of greater congratulation as years go by 
 that one lias been spared to add another year to the 
 term of life. 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE I JV CHINA. 
 
 We may note that there are several similarities 
 between the customs of the Hebrews and of the Chinese 
 in their New Year ceremonies. Feasting, leisure, 
 congratulations, visits of ceremony, interchange of gifts, 
 special acts of worship — all afford points of correspond- 
 ence. So does the custom of writing and pasting up 
 mottoes and prayers and good wishes. * Thou shalt 
 write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy 
 gates’ (Deut. vi. 9), is fulfilled very literally by the 
 Chinese. Not less so is this custom of reckoning 
 periods of time from the New Year. All the reckonings 
 of dates by the Hebrews were from the beginning of 
 the year. In China all calculations are made on this 
 principle. The length of the reign of the emperor, the 
 term of official service, the engagement of servants, the 
 period of residence in a locality — all are dated from the 
 New Year. However brief may be the portion of time 
 that belongs to the Old or New Year, it is reckoned as a 
 full year. 
 
 Now is the time for settling accounts with gods and 
 men. All running bills must be paid up. Bankruptcy 
 becomes very common, because firms cannot by any 
 means meet their liabilities in time. It is considered 
 disgraceful not to have fully arranged one’s affairs by 
 the close of the old year. Ordinary methods of meeting 
 their engagements failing to set them clear, they betake 
 themselves to the plan of borrowing of Peter to pay 
 Paul. It is a splendid plan for the pawnbrokers, 
 money-lenders, and bankers. The old account is closed 
 with the new creditor on the first day of the first month. 
 One natural result of the endeavour to clear off all old 
 scores at a fixed time is that theft is extremely common 
 during the twelfth month. The festive season is always 
 
THE CHINESE NEW YEAR. 
 
 67 
 
 heralded by reports on every hand of pilfering and 
 burglary. Travelling by land and by water is avoided 
 as much as possible, because of banditti in the hills and 
 pirates on the river. Native friends will often seriously 
 remonstrate with the missionary for venturing ‘ up 
 country ’ as the year nears its close ; and whether he 
 meets with mishap or not, he must be content to pay 
 double fees to boatmen and chair-bearers who fear, 
 or affect to fear, the dangers against which they warn 
 him. 
 
 At this season the Chinese endeavour to make all 
 comfortable with the gods. Those who have any con- 
 sciousness of sin (they are not many), or those who 
 have a vague dread lest they will be overtaken by 
 calamity for their misdeeds, seek to propitiate the gods 
 by doing their worship in the gross at the end of the 
 year. Having neglected the gods for nearly twelve 
 months, they become eager to propitiate them. Priests 
 are engaged to pray for the pardon of sins, and to preside 
 at the offering of sacrifices. Prayers are written out 
 on red paper and pasted on the doors of houses. 
 
 On New Year’s morning the civil and military man- 
 darins do homage before the shrine of the reigning 
 emperor. Where there is, as in Canton, a temple 
 dedicated to the emperor, the officials, high and low, 
 proceed in state, attended by bands of music and multi- 
 tudes of underlings, and prostrate themselves before the 
 temple which contains the imperial tablet. 
 
 He must be a sorrowful or an eccentric Chinaman who 
 would retire to rest on New Year’s Eve without waiting 
 for the midnight display of fireworks. At that hour 
 such feu de joic of crackers breaks upon the ear as 
 would satisfy the most ardent supporter of the noisy 
 
EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 68 • 
 
 and sulphurous rites that we ourselves are accustomed 
 to observe on the Fifth of November. The reader, 
 when we write of crackers, must not picture to him- 
 self those tiny twisted articles purehaseable at a small 
 stationer’s shop for a penny. A Chinese cracker is a 
 much more formidable and demonstrative, though in- 
 comparably cheaper, article. It is a tube an inch long* 
 and half an inch in diameter, made of stout pasteboard, 
 and covered with red paper. A handful of such crackers 
 is arranged along a string. To be fired, the bunch is 
 suspended from a short pole. A hundred such crackers 
 would be a very moderate number to let off at a time* 
 It is not unfrequently the case that the string bears 
 materials for a running fusilade of a thousand explo- 
 sions. The object of the use of crackers is said to be 
 to frighten away evil spirits. If it alarmed the spirits 
 at all, one would rather be inclined to believe that, not 
 the evil, but the good, spirits would be driven off by 
 such an outrageous noise. There is no doubt whatever 
 that very few Chinamen think of evil spirits when they 
 fire crackers. They are a nation of grown-up children, 
 and take the simple delight of children in the clamorous 
 and fiery demonstration. But all consider it unlucky 
 not to fire the biggest possible salvo at the change of 
 year. So large a quantity is used that the farmers come 
 into town to sweep up the refuse paper for manure. 
 
 The women-folks have been busy for weeks in pre- 
 paring the various edibles that are to be disposed of 
 during the series of festive meals. The most common 
 of all is a cake made of ground rice, spread upon a flat 
 surface to dry. These cakes and other kinds of food 
 are now piled upon dishes and trays, awaiting the proper 
 hour for the beginning of the feast. 
 
THE CHINESE NEW YEAR. 69 
 
 In respectable households, where the proprieties are 
 honoured, the former half of the night is spent in 
 preparation for the usual sacred ceremonies, and the 
 latter half in the performance of them. The shrine of 
 the family idols is decorated with vases containing the 
 fragrant gourd called the Hand of Buddha, and flowers 
 of hyacinth and narcissus. The bulbs have been placed 
 in dishes filled with water and small stones, and timed 
 to be in full bloom precisely at the New Year. Arti- 
 ficial flowers, wonderfully like real ones, and small 
 quaint-looking shrubs, are placed in suitable positions. 
 The air is heavy with the fragrance of incense made of 
 sandal wood. Then, from midnight to dawn, various 
 solemn services are performed, of which the following is 
 the briefest possible summary. 
 
 First of all is the sacrifice to Heaven and Earth at 
 about three a.m. A table is spread in front of the three- 
 walled ‘ Guest-room/ or hall, in a spot open to the sky. 
 A bucket of rice, ten bowls of vegetables, ten cups of 
 tea, two large red candles, three sticks of incense, ten 
 pair of chopsticks, and a copy of the almanack for the 
 current year, are placed upon the table. Mock money, 
 representing gold and silver coinage, is burned as an 
 offering. The head of the family kneels in front of the 
 table, holding in his right hand three sticks of incense. 
 Knocking his head three times on the floor, he expresses 
 his thanks to Heaven and Earth for past favours, and 
 entreats a continuance of them. Towards daybreak 
 the sacrifice is offered to the idols of the house. On 
 the table are rice, vegetables, fruit, tea, wine, candles, 
 and incense as before, but in smaller quantities. The 
 same ceremony is then performed before the tablets of 
 deceased ancestors. 
 
7 o 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 But the fourth and last of these heathen matins is 
 the most curious of all — viz. prostration of the junior 
 members of the family before their surviving parents 
 and grandparents. The elders sit in turn to receive the 
 devotion of their offspring. If both grandparents, or 
 both parents, are "alive, they sit side by side, while the 
 young or younger people prostrate themselves at their 
 feet three times, and congratulate them on having sur- 
 vived to the beginning of another year. Whether this 
 should be called the ‘worship’ of elders or not is a 
 point open to discussion. But no sacrifice of food or 
 money is used in it, nor are candles or incense sticks 
 lighted. It only happens that the same word, pai, is 
 used in speaking of the reverence given to parents and 
 of the worship of the gods. Uncles and aunts stand to 
 receive the congratulations of the young. 
 
 In Amoy the custom of * surrounding the furnace * 
 takes place at about this point in the proceedings. A 
 charcoal fire is lighted in an earthen pan and placed 
 under the table. The various members of the family 
 then sit around it and take a slight refreshment. It is 
 said that there is a belief that such a ceremony protects 
 the house from fire for the coming year ; but it is open 
 to question whether the practice does not rather signify 
 the union of the household around one common hearth. 
 
 New Year’s morning is the only really quiet time in 
 a Chinese street in the whole year. The merrymakers 
 have not yet got up. Everything seems changed about 
 the town. The most familiar streets wear an unfamiliar 
 aspect. We are struck by their width. The stalls and 
 counters have been taken indoors, making the street so 
 many feet the wider. All the shops are closed; no 
 goods are being carried ; dogs, pigs and chickens, are 
 
THE CHINESE NEW YEAR. 
 
 7 1 
 
 safely housed inside with their owners. The stone road 
 has a crimson carpet, formed by the remnants of myriads 
 of exploded crackers; crimson cloth hangs in festoons 
 along the street, and crimson sheets of paper with the 
 word Hok (Happiness) written upon them give their 
 benediction to the passer-by. 
 
 Mingled with this blaze of crimson are quieter 
 colours. The shutters of almost every shop are decor- 
 ated with numberless strips of perforated yellow paper, 
 offerings of gratitude from thankful merchants to the 
 spirits which have prospered them through another 
 year. Here and there we see a strip of blue paper, 
 which, with the pathetic eloquence of silence, declares 
 that death has visited this home during the past year, 
 and that the new year .is not all gladness to them. 
 Such mourners remain at home to-day instead of going 
 out to make the formal calls. 
 
 Those, however, who are detained at home by no 
 such sorrowful causes begin to leave their homes by 
 about ten o’clock in the forenoon ; and from twelve till 
 three or four the streets are very gay. All are decked 
 out in their most gorgeous apparel. These beautiful 
 dresses have in many cases been deposited for a whole 
 year in the lofty, fortress-like pawn-shop, and were 
 only taken out a day or two ago. When the festive 
 season is over, back will go the dresses for another 
 twelvemonth, or until the next social or domestic feast ; 
 for the pawn-shop is a great institution in China, — 
 bank, money-lending establishment, depository, pan- 
 technicon, — and is certainly the only place in a Chinese 
 town where moth and rust do not corrupt, and where 
 thieves have no hope of breaking through to steal. 
 
 To-day a man can scarcely recognize his own servants, 
 
EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 72 
 
 they are so splendidly arrayed. Even your coolie 
 who sweeps the house, washes the floor, and attends to 
 your garden, for a consideration of twelve shillings and 
 sixpence a month, feeding himself and family on that 
 pittance, may be seen clothed in purple and fine linen 
 just for this one day of the year. Pompous gentlemen 
 are strolling along, waddling like ducks, either through 
 weight of flesh or sense of glory ; or they are riding in 
 sedan chairs, with an air of importance, carrying in 
 their hands red visiting cards seven inches long, as 
 they go to present their good wishes to kinsmen and 
 acquaintance. Friends of equal rank meeting thus in 
 the streets this morning bow profoundly to one another, 
 and shake their own closed hands, after the fashion of 
 the land, in courteous salutation. Persons of lower 
 social rank, meeting a superior, pause in their walk for 
 a second or so as he passes ; or if the great man is very 
 great, the humble individual will fall on one knee for 
 a moment. 
 
 The ceremonial to be observed in making a formal 
 call is laid down with the utmost exactness in the Booh 
 of Bites, one of the classical works most reverenced of 
 all in China. It is a work which has had its beneficial 
 use in giving a staidness and courtesy to Chinese 
 manners which it is impossible not to admire ; though, 
 on the other hand, it gradually took the place of what 
 ought to be more real and less formal, the geniality and 
 charity that are distinctive of all true Christianity. 
 The Booh of Bites is to the Chinaman a sacred text- 
 book of good manners. It teaches him what he ought 
 to do, and what to avoid. ‘ He does not know the 
 Proprieties,’ is the most stinging rebuke that can issue 
 from Chinese lips. Reviling and abuse are mild 
 
THE CHINESE NEW YEAR. 
 
 73 
 
 compared with the rebuff, ‘You are a not-know-the- 
 Rites-man.’ The ancient teachers saw that the natures 
 of men were very diverse, and sought to harmonize them, 
 and reduce them to order and similarity by laying stress 
 on the outward forms which are prescribed by the Book 
 of Bites. In the present day these customs are diligently 
 guarded and expounded by a special Government office, 
 the Li-'pu , or Board of Ceremonial. Such customs give 
 a very agreeable veneer and polish to the outward 
 manners of the people ; but those who know the people 
 best feel the most painfully that the elegant ceremonies 
 cover up laxity of moral life as complete and terrible as 
 that of the Pharisaic impostors whom He who ‘ knew 
 what was in man ’ described as * whited sepulchres/ 
 
 It is an interesting sight, however, to see the Chinese 
 gentry calling on one another. The visiting card for 
 the New Year has generally a picture in outline 
 stamped upon the red paper, representing emblematically 
 the three things most desired by a Chinaman. These 
 are offspring, official employment, and longevity — the 
 Sam-hok, or Three Happinesses, as they are commonly 
 called. Offspring is betokened by the figure of a child ; 
 official position by the person of a mandarin at the 
 extreme of obesity ; and long life by an aged man 
 attended by a stork, the emblem in China of length of 
 days. On entering a house every person within sight 
 and hearing shouts Kiong-hi (congratulations). A great 
 amount of time and energy is expended by the host in 
 the apparently vain endeavour to persuade the visitor 
 to sit in the seat of honour. He protests, 4 1 dare not, 
 I dare not/ meaning that it would be presumption on 
 his part to venture to occupy so distinguished a place. 
 Suffering himself at length to be persuaded, tea or 
 
74 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 extract of ginseng is ready to be presented; perhaps 
 also a pipe of tobacco is indulged in. After a short 
 time spent in the very sublimation of small and formal 
 talk, he takes his departure to ‘ bestow the illumination 
 of his distinguished countenance’ on some other fortu- 
 nate acquaintance. As he quits the house, the visitor 
 exclaims to the host, ‘ Pray be seated,’ i. e. * Don’t 
 honour me by walking to the door ; ’ and the host says 
 to his guest, ‘ Walk slowly,’ or, in other words, ‘ Don’t 
 break my heart by leaving me so suddenly/ 
 
 The New Year is the time for the exchange of 
 presents between friends. Tradesmen send substantial 
 gifts to their customers. Parties who have fallen out 
 may venture to renew overtures of regard, by trying the 
 effect of formal interchange of courtesies in the form of 
 a roll of new cloth, or a goose, or a pile of pastry. The 
 most common gifts at this season are rare fruits, sweet- 
 meats, fine tea, silk stuffs, or ornaments of various kinds. 
 The receiver is expected also to return a present. In 
 each case a red slip of paper is sent with the article, on 
 which is written a list of the gifts, with the name of the 
 sender, and some flowery compliment. To decline to 
 receive these presents is regarded as a serious affront; 
 but the receiver may, if he choose, return a part, sending 
 with the portion returned a note in which are the words, 
 ‘We dare not presume to accept such precious gifts.’ 
 Now is the harvesting season of jugglers, acrobats, 
 and play-actors. These gentlemen are in full work, 
 and make money freely. At no other time can they 
 get a group of spectators so completely at leisure or so 
 flush of coin. The performance which we call a ‘ Punch 
 and Judy show ’ is also much appreciated by an admiring 
 public. Little open spaces where several streets meeting 
 
THE CHINESE NEW YEAR. 
 
 75 
 
 have formed a square ; the broader area among private 
 houses ; the pleasant spot around a banyan tree; or the 
 open hill-side where the holiday-makers are strolling 
 — are occupied by the quick-fingered, lithe-limbed, and 
 screaming professionals. 
 
 But what strikes us most of all, perhaps, at this 
 festive season is that a large proportion of the populace 
 seem to have given themselves up to gambling. At 
 every few steps we come upon a group of eager men 
 bending over a small table, playing with the dice. 
 Sometimes it is thrown on the flat table, and sometimes 
 into a rice-bowl. Close by, a wheel of fortune is revolving, 
 and cash is freely changing hands. Through many open 
 doors we see the inmates of the houses indulging in the 
 same pastime. It is true that gambling is not permitted 
 by the law of the land, but the magistrates are in the 
 same festive state of mind as the vulgar sort, and wink 
 at all improprieties of this kind which they see at the 
 New Year. Are not the magistrates’ yamuns closed for 
 a whole month ? And are mandarins not mortal, that 
 they should not be allowed to disport themselves like 
 meaner men ? The people may do as they please, 
 provided they do not disturb the official mind ; and men 
 and children of all ages regard this season of idleness 
 as the time when they may give themselves up unin- 
 terruptedly to this really cheap, but disastrously exciting 
 and demoralizing sport. 
 
 Very little work is done for a whole week. Those 
 whose purses are well-lined continue to feast and to 
 enjoy their leisure for as much as a fortnight and more. 
 A proverb says, * In the first part of the first month no 
 one’s mouth is empty.’ During this period the richer 
 classes eat and sleep, sleep and eat, as though they 
 
76 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 would have little chance of doing either during the 
 coming eleven months. All classes in Amoy are said to 
 have a superstitious dread of spending money for three 
 days, except for odds and ends, such as candles, incense, 
 sweet-meats, and pea-nuts. An artisan or farm-labourer 
 expects to receive twice or thrice as much as usual for 
 a day’s work. Failure would follow any attempt on 
 the part of an employer to compel his men to work. 
 They would quietly leave him, and come back when 
 they chose. Englishmen and others in China, holding 
 this great national celebration in contempt, have some- 
 times endeavoured to ignore it, and to keep open their 
 business premises as usual, but have always found it a 
 mistake. China declares that she will not work for at 
 least a week, and the foreigner must of necessity accept 
 the situation and take a holiday also. By the end of a 
 week one shop here and another there begin to transact 
 business in a sleepy, leisurely fashion; and after the 
 space of yet another week the streets have resumed 
 almost entirely their wonted appearance of toil and 
 bustle. 
 
HABITS AND MANNERS OF JOHN CHINAMAN. 77 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE HABITS AND MANNERS OF JOHN CHINAMAN. 
 
 There is nothing more difficult for any one, of 
 whatever nationality he be, than to form a fair, impartial, 
 and liberal estimate of the characteristics and character 
 of a foreign people. Perhaps that tendency on the part 
 of the Briton which the Frenchman delights to call 
 ‘ insular,’ makes such a charitable judgment more 
 difficult to us than to the representatives of some 
 nations whose habits are more cosmopolitan than ours. 
 National prejudice is one of the most exacting of 
 sentiments: it makes demands upon strangers which 
 are altogether unreasonable. It is also most deluding : 
 it prevents our seeing the real virtues of those whose 
 national habits differ from our own. 
 
 John Bull has recently adopted Bret Harte’s ballad 
 on Ah Sin of San Francisco as his opinion of the . 
 Chinaman. 
 
 ‘For ways that are dark, 
 
 And for tricks that are vain, 
 
 The heathen Chinee is peculiar.’ 
 
 A capital jest is quoted as a sufficient summary of the 
 moral qualities of one-third of the human race. Forget- 
 ful of the fact, if it ever occurred to him, that merchants 
 in China have to do almost entirely with a class of men 
 who enter the service of the foreigner for no other reason 
 than to make as much as possible out of him, they 
 accept the testimony of men who cannot speak Chinese, 
 
73 EVERYDAY LIFE EV CHINA. 
 
 and who never once sat at table with a Chinaman 
 except on some special and festive occasion. Seamen 
 are still less able to give a just opinion on the subject, 
 since only the riff-raff of the population of a port come 
 about a vessel ; and the points of connection between 
 the shipping and the shore are often of the lowest kind. 
 Who would like to have Englishmen judged by the 
 hobblers of the quays and the ‘’long-shore men’ of 
 Liverpool, Newcastle, or London ? Furthest of all from 
 the facts is a judgment founded upon contact with 
 Chinese emigrants in California, Australia, or the 
 Straits Settlements, seeing that the larger proportion 
 of such men are the very poor and uneducated, and no 
 small number have escaped from the penalties of the 
 law, or have thrown off their family obligations. 
 
 Two things we venture to affirm : first, that the mass 
 of the people will be appreciated the more highly the 
 better they are known; and secondly, that the higher 
 the personal character of the critic, whether missionary 
 or layman, the more favourable is his estimate. There 
 are men of exacting and jaundiced temperament in 
 every class who are never pleased and always suspicious. 
 But almost without exception, as far as our observation 
 has gone, the merchants and others residing in China 
 who live consistent religious lives are admirers of the 
 Chinese, and the missionaries who are doing their work 
 with the best temper and success are the men who hold 
 the natives in the highest esteem, finding not only much 
 to admire, but even much to love. Only two or three 
 missionaries have we ever known who did not hold the 
 Chinese in general respect ; and in the writer’s humble 
 judgment it would have been best for the mission cause 
 for those brethren to retire from the field. 
 
HABITS AND MANNERS OF JOHN CHINAMAN 79 
 
 My first experience with the Chinese trader taught 
 me a severe lesson for which I have often been very 
 thankful. On reaching my station, I was early assured 
 by an acquaintance that the Chinese were a nation of 
 liars, that every shopkeeper was a swindler by a law of 
 nature, and that there was no exception to the rule. 
 A day or two after I sent to ask a tradesman to submit 
 certain specimens of his art to my inspection. He 
 brought them, wrapped up in a large blue handkerchief. 
 
 I was surprised at the long price, and jumped to the 
 conclusion that this was one of those universal swindlers 
 who had a lower price for the initiated. I ventured to 
 suggest that the charge was exorbitant. We discussed 
 the matter for a few moments, and when he saw I was 
 firm, the goods were hastily heaped into the blue 
 handkerchief, and the merchant was on his way home 
 before I could realize that I was snubbed. It was a 
 small matter, but it made me very careful and observant, 
 and led to my forming a higher estimate of the truth- 
 fulness and integrity of those with whom I was more 
 immediately associated. The man who is deceived and 
 robbed has generally laid himself open to it. A hard 
 master makes unreliable and pilfering servants. Bad 
 temper in an employer lowers the character of the 
 employes. Niggardliness excites them to reprisals, and 
 lavish expenditure presents temptations which only 
 a man of the highest moral tone is able to resist. 
 
 Let us see what can be said in favour of the much- 
 abused Chinaman, while at the same time accusing him 
 as much as may be found necessary for his faults. 
 
 1. His filial piety is so well known that a very few 
 words about it will suffice. From the time that a child 
 can walk he is trained in reverence for his parents. 
 
8o 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 The Book of Rites teaches that he must bow to his 
 parents when he enters the room, and must rise to his 
 feet when they come in. He respectfully addresses his 
 mother as ‘ venerable mother/ and his father as * vener- 
 able father/ or ‘great mandarin/ Very exact atten- 
 tion is paid to parental rights and claims. No doubt 
 there are plenty of disobedient sons and daughters, but 
 there are comparatively few who would venture to treat 
 their parents badly. Very rarely does one hear of the 
 crime of wilful neglect of aged parents by their children. 
 The whole neighbourhood would be shocked by such a 
 state of things. The son who would dare to do so 
 would be practically outlawed. 
 
 The filial sentiment is woven into the very constitu- 
 tion of the nation, in its social and imperial, as well 
 as its domestic, relations. Obedience and respect are 
 claimed by the superior social class from those below it. 
 While there are no other people in the world so abso- 
 lutely democratic in their social and domestic habits, 
 there are none more autocratic in their belief in 
 ‘superiois/ In theory regard paid to superiors is to 
 be the result of ‘ filial piety/ The rulers are, in 
 common parlance, the ‘father-mother’ of the people. 
 Through the various grades from the family as the unit 
 to the elders of a ward, the inferior mandarins, the 
 mayors, the district and prefectural rulers, the viceroys, 
 the ministers of state, and the emperor, each class is 
 expected to give filial obedience with a willing mind. 
 Even when the grinding extortions of unjust magistrates 
 drive them to the use of a cruel phrase instead of 
 4 father-mother/ and they groan or hiss the term 4 lion- 
 tiger/ with flashing eyes and a significant nod of the 
 head, they seem still to regard the authorities with 
 
HABITS AND MANNERS OF JOHN CHINAMAN. 8 1 
 
 some feeling of respectful awe. This sentiment of 
 filial piety is ingrained in his nature, imbibed with 
 his mother’s milk, and transmitted from generation to 
 generation. There seems no reason to doubt that it 
 is chiefly this beautiful and wise sentiment which has 
 held the nation together these four thousand years. 
 
 2. It must also be said for the Chinaman that he is a 
 most moderate and peaceable man. Although no country 
 has endured more rebellions and revolutions, it is still 
 
 AN IDOL PROCESSION. 
 
 true that he does not care for fighting, and is willing to 
 give all men their due. Now and then local disturb- 
 ances take place that seem to directly contradict this. 
 Feuds between different clans, quarrels about graves 
 and idols, wild superstitions that goad a neighbourhood 
 to madness, sometimes cause a temporary outbreak. 
 
 Several years ago, in a village near Amoy, rival idols 
 were being carried in procession. The paths converged 
 to a point a little way out of the village. The persons 
 
 G 
 
82 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 forming the processions caught sight of one another, 
 and ran towards the junction of the paths, to see which 
 could get the precedence. They came into collision, 
 indulged in a little fighting, and began a quarrel which 
 lasted fourteen months. Thirty-two villages became 
 involved. A tax was levied upon them by the elders 
 of the villages for the purchase of firearms and ammu- 
 nition. Sentries were placed at the top of square 
 towers, to shoot at any of the hostile party that might 
 venture into the fields. The seeds could not be sown. 
 The standing crops could not be reaped. Two small 
 cannon were bought in Amoy, and with these they 
 amused themselves occasionally in battering a wall or a 
 roof. Great damage was done. The whole neighbour- 
 hood was reduced to distress. Where were the man- 
 darins ? Calmly waiting till some one was killed. When 
 that event occurred, and was multiplied by twenty-two, 
 the district mandarin became indignant, sent three thou- 
 sand troops to take possession, levied black-mail on all 
 the villages involved, and retreated with the spoil . 1 
 
 Such serious disturbances as these are sadly common, 
 and the cruelties perpetrated are sometimes of the most 
 barbarous nature. And yet it is no less true that the 
 Chinaman loves peace and quietness, and is singularly 
 
 1 It will interest the Christian reader to know that the London 
 Mission has a station in the village in which the outbreak took place. 
 The small church suffered severely from the hands of persecutors. They 
 altogether declined to make contributions towards the purchase of 
 material of war. ‘No,’ they said ; ‘if you elders will levy a tax for 
 mending the roads, or for relieving widows and orphans, we will give 
 twice and thrice as much as any one else ; but we will not give money 
 to do mischief to our neighbours. ’ Three times in the fourteen months 
 the day was appointed for their assassination, but they did not run away, 
 and on only two Sundays did they fail to meet for worship. They 
 were robbed of furniture and field produce, but stood firm in the faith. 
 
BA BITS AND MANNERS OF JOHN CHINAMAN. 83 
 
 gentle. He shrinks from beginning a quarrel of his 
 own, and stands in terrible fear of being mixed up in 
 those of his neighbours. The ‘Three Happinesses’ 
 are long life, wealth, and a family of sons. If he is 
 allowed to earn his living quietly, and to bring up a 
 family who in their turn will provide for him, he is 
 perfectly content. The average Chinaman is remark- 
 ably temperate and moderate in his habits and opinions. 
 Centuries and millenniums of very fair ethical instruc- 
 tion, especially in the duty of sobriety in act and word 
 (the favourite exhortation of Confucius and his followers), 
 have done as much for the Chinese as could be expected. 
 Geniality, good temper, sociability, affectionateness, and 
 hospitality are characteristic of the mass of the people. 
 One is constantly struck with the freedom from con- 
 straint among them. A merrier, more jovial and more 
 contented people do not exist under heaven. They 
 talk as though they had no secrets. They relate to a 
 stranger in their loudest key their private and public 
 experiences. Whatever wrongs oppression by bad rulers 
 has driven them to do, or whatever ugly tricks the 
 struggle for existence or their vain superstitions lead 
 them sometimes to play, deep down in the nature of 
 the Chinaman is the desire to be at peace with 
 all — ‘to live and let live.’ It is this peaceable and 
 moderate temperament that has prevented their being 
 a warlike nation, and that makes life and property as 
 secure for the most part in China as in England. They 
 need only the .purer doctrine of Christ to raise the 
 national character to the highest standard. 
 
 3. Nor must we omit to notice their habitual courtesy 
 and politeness. We do not ignore the fact that the 
 moral value of courtesy is a difficult thing to estimate. 
 
 g 2 
 
8 4 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 In some nations and some individuals it is one of the 
 most delusive of the virtues. There may be politeness 
 on the lip and something very different in the mind 
 But while we are prepared to take off a large discount 
 for pretended courtesy, the Chinese must still be credited 
 with a language as polite as the best, and with more of 
 the spirit of politeness than most other nationalities. 
 Sometimes, indeed, the desire to please is carried to an 
 extreme, and the unaccustomed foreigner would like to 
 say, ‘Cut it short/ to the elaborate ritual of good manners. 
 Times without number we have been made uncomfortable 
 by what seemed the excess of trouble our friends were 
 taking to ensure our comfort. We have been grieved 
 at the expense to which they have put themselves in 
 preparing feasts of fat things. In vain have we besought 
 them not to accompany us for long distances on the road* 
 They seemed to think that all our consideration for them 
 only made it more incumbent upon them to show that 
 they also knew ‘the proprieties/ Even the poorest classes 
 pay much regard to the amenities of social intercourse. 
 
 After a lengthened residence in China there is nothing 
 that strikes an Englishman more on his return to 
 England than the brusqueness of his own countrymen* 
 We are so accustomed at home to what the Chinaman 
 w r ould call ignorance of the proprieties, and we so 
 consistently ignore these same proprieties ourselves, that 
 ■we cannot appreciate the difference between Chinese 
 and English manners unless we have been to the East. 
 The selfish disregard of the convenience of others, shown 
 especially by young men and women in our streets, in 
 trains and tramcars, is behaviour practically unknown 
 in China. Polite request or apology seldom fails to be 
 expressed at the proper moment by the Chinaman. 
 
HABITS AND MANNERS OF JOHN CHINAMAN 8 5 
 
 It is well known that the Chinese commonly call 
 Europeans ‘barbarians.’ Too much may be made of 
 this unpleasant custom of theirs. It needs to be 
 explained that there is no satisfactory comprehensive 
 term in the language for ‘foreigner.’ On the lips of 
 the Chinaman it often means no more than the same 
 term in ancient Greek. ‘ Barbarian ’ meant no more 
 to the Greeks than a degree of culture less than Greek. 
 Even the common expletive ‘foreign devil’ so often 
 heard in Chinese streets may be misunderstood and 
 its violence exaggerated. To many it means no more 
 than ‘ foreign ’ or ‘ outlandish ’ does with us. Even the 
 Christians, when speaking to their missionary-pastors, 
 often allude to foreigners by names which, if literally 
 translated, would sound anything but polite. ‘ Red- 
 haired men,’ for Englishmen, and ‘ Little-barbarian- 
 men,’ for any foreigner, are among the mildest of these 
 words which some good missionaries think offensive. 
 To avoid equivocal and disrespectful terms, missionaries 
 have invented the term ‘ outside-country-men,’ which 
 is in very common use among those with whom they 
 come chiefly into contact. 
 
 We Englishmen are blissfully ignorant of the fact that 
 we are an astonishment to a nation like the Chinese, 
 and are indignant that they should venture to speak 
 disrespectfully of us. But it has to be remembered that 
 we are apt to imagine that no one else has such a claim 
 to universal consideration as ourselves. Our countrymen 
 in China do not mean to be rude, nor have they any 
 idea that they are so, and yet they often are objects of 
 perplexity, contempt, and even disgust to the Chinaman. 
 One or two foreigners at a port may dishonour the name 
 of the foreigner. A few here and there have been 
 
86 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 known to act as if China were governed from Downing 
 Street instead of from Peking. They lord it over every 
 native, are careless of their morals, indignant if the 
 authorities or the populace object to their wandering 
 everywhere and shooting game at will, furious if they 
 may not buy what the Chinaman does not wish to sell, 
 and speak and act as though the Chinaman were not 
 very much the superior of themselves in manners, if 
 not in morals. They forget that they are in the 
 minority by some 300,000,000 ; and that when they are 
 finding fault with him for his national peculiarities, he 
 is simply not fettered or misguided like themselves by 
 the prejudices born of centuries of insular conceit and 
 the developments of a civilization from which simplicity 
 has almost fled. It is not always remarkable that the 
 Chinese should think foreigners lacking in culture. 
 
 As for themselves, they can never be fairly judged 
 except by those who know their language, have lived 
 among them, and have for Christ’s sake endured without 
 a visible shudder many a painful shock to the nerves ; 
 but missionaries, who have the best of opportunities of 
 knowing them intimately, almost unanimously testify 
 to the courtesy with which they are treated by the 
 people. Speaking generally, no foreigner is treated 
 otherwise than politely in China, unless he forgets that 
 even among semi-civilized heathens it is his duty to act 
 as a gentleman. 
 
 4. We must say a word of praise of their outward 
 morality. What their real moral state is we may 
 venture presently to describe. But they certainly 
 deserve credit for the propriety that marks their 
 outward life. It is only too probable that most, if not 
 all, large Chinese towns have their dens of debauchery. 
 
HABITS AND MANNERS OF JOHN CHINAMAN. 87 
 
 But crime does not shamelessly walk the streets and 
 assert itself with such effrontery as in the towns of this 
 Christian land of ours. Only where the congregating 
 of Europeans has resulted in a grosser degree of de- 
 pravity do the outward evidences of immoral conduct 
 force themselves upon one’s notice. To whatever depths 
 of license many of them may be addicted, it can at least 
 be said that they do not make an open show of their vices. 
 
 Few Christians realize as they should the effect 
 produced upon the minds of intelligent heathen visitors 
 to our shores by what they are obliged to witness 
 in our large towns. In their innocence, the kindly 
 supporters of missions think that it must do the ‘ poor 
 heathen ’ so much good to come to England and see 
 how much better we are than they. Would that it 
 were possible for them to be so impressed ! But these 
 same ‘ poor heathen ’ are too often shocked by what 
 they see and hear. The misery of the poor, the foul- 
 ness of the slums, the number of murders recorded in 
 our newspapers, the blazoning of licentiousness upon 
 our streets, the prodigious figures of the ‘national 
 drink bill,’ and the number of drunkards, — these 
 things startle and amaze the heathen who come to 
 England believing it to be an example for the world I 
 The attaches of the Chinese Embassy have expressed 
 themselves on these points as strongly as their polite- 
 ness will allow. A well-known missionary and scholar 
 asked Ambassador Kwoh what he thought of England . 
 He replied, ‘It is a fine country, and your people are 
 very ingenious, but their immorality is very lament- 
 able ; it is a pity they have not become possessed of 
 right principles ; vice is very common in many forms ; 
 I cannot admire the low standard of propriety and 
 
88 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 goodness which characterizes your great country/ 
 That is the opinion formed of us by a man we call a 
 heathen ! In continuing the conversation the learned 
 missionary was obliged to confess that he had seen more 
 drunken men in walking from a railway station in a 
 certain northern city to the steamer quay than drunken 
 Chinamen during thirty years’ residence in China. 
 
 But we need not bring a railing accusation against 
 ourselves, for that does not improve the Chinese. It 
 is well, however, to realize that though great numbers 
 of heathens are debased, multitudes of them have a 
 strong moral sense, and that we are not nationally in 
 all things an example for them to copy. We may be 
 too sanguine in hoping that the residence of Chinese 
 among us would tend to spread the truths of Christi- 
 anity. In some directions their public morality stands 
 in advance of our own. While we take as flattering 
 a view of ourselves as possible, they scorn us for the 
 difference between our profession and our practice. 
 While we are thanking God for our Christianity and 
 trying to spread it, they imagine that we cannot 
 possibly have been educated in * right principles/ They 
 come soberly to the conclusion that the ethics of 
 Confucius have more power to deter men from crime 
 than the ethics of Christianity. We may object as 
 much as we please to their conclusion — as we know, 
 they are most sadly mistaken; but all we are speaking 
 of at present is the impression made by our outward 
 practices upon the mind of an intelligent heathen. The 
 facts that come under his notice, and which we all grant 
 arise from the lack of Christianity, are put down by a 
 sober and learned heathen as the fault of Christianity. 
 
 The ethical standard of the Confucian school is 
 
HABITS AND MANNERS OF JOHN CHINAMAN. 89 
 
 certainly high, considering that it is untouched by 
 Jewish or Christian influence. Such sentences as the 
 following abound in the writings of Mencius, the chief 
 follower of Confucius : * All men originally have com- 
 passionate hearts ; all men have hearts that are ashamed 
 of vice ; all have hearts disposed to show reverence and 
 respect; and all have hearts that discriminate between 
 right and wrong. A compassionate heart implies 
 benevolence ; one ashamed of vice, rectitude ; one which 
 respects and reveres, a sense of propriety ; and one that 
 clearly distinguishes right from wrong, wisdom. Now 
 the principles of benevolence, rectitude, propriety, and 
 wisdom are not infused into us from without; we 
 certainly possess them of ourselves.’ The endeavour 
 of the sages was to induce men to live up to the 
 conscience of right and wrong which is written in 
 human nature. Though the spiritual element is almost 
 entirely absent from their teaching, they have lifted the 
 people as far as mere morality can do. We do not 
 mean to assert that the generality of the Chinese make 
 a direct effort- to live up to the standard of original 
 goodness stated in the above passage by Mencius; but 
 only that missionaries and others who know them 
 intimately are often impressed with the benevolence, 
 rectitude, propriety and wisdom (in the sense in which 
 the sage used the words) which distinguish them. 
 Politically, they are not aggressive, and have no wish 
 to annex their neighbours’ territory. Commercially, 
 the class of native merchants with whom our country- 
 men have to do are famous for their integrity, even 
 * their enemies being judges.’ Socially, whatever vice 
 or crime individuals are guilty of is at least treated as 
 a thing of shame, and covered up from public inspection. 
 
90 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 After saying so much in their favour it is hard to 
 turn round and seem to disprove all we have said. Yet 
 it is most lamentably true that, while they have so 
 many private and public virtues, Paul’s description in 
 Romans i. of the depravity of the heathen world applies 
 to a vast mass of the people of China. Side by side 
 with their best traits of character are found habits 
 which are gross and sensual, and practices which reveal 
 a sorry lack of cultured moral sense. 
 
 The average Chinaman has, for instance, no idea of 
 the beauty of truthfulness in the Christian or any other 
 sense. The case is not as bad as some writers declare, 
 who assert that no Chinaman speaks the truth. But 
 they have not the same conscience about it as we have. 
 To lie is with them a sort of Spartan virtue. Parents 
 feel somewhat pleased at the dexterity with which a 
 child of theirs can lie. They regard it as a touch of 
 genius — a hopeful sign that their son will make his 
 way in the world. A lie is no more than a piece of 
 wit, and the more daring the more admirable. Even 
 when, through affection or self-interest, they speak the 
 truth, they do not seem to feel that they have done 
 what is commendable, but merely that they have not 
 done what they have been inclined to. 
 
 In making a bargain this terrible infirmity comes out 
 most visibly. Both parties brace themselves for the 
 occasion to bandy to and fro the most glaring falsehoods. 
 Suppose the buyer wishes for a basket of a value of 
 two dollars. He goes into the shop and makes one or 
 two indifferent remarks, and then suggests that baskets 
 are very dear. The salesman mildly finds fault with 
 the assertion, and takes down a basket which he says 
 is worth four dollars. The buyer reckons that it must, 
 
a dollar, and they part good friends, having each of them 
 told at least fifty barefaced lies, known to be such by both. 
 
 It would of course be a wonder if the heathen were 
 truthful. Truthfulness is a virtue that some Christians 
 find it hard to cultivate. Not merely the direct teaching 
 of the Gospel is needed to teach a better way, but also 
 the indirect influence of a wiser social and commercial 
 economy. One is glad to be able to add ones own 
 
 HABITS AND MANNERS OF JOHN CHINAMAN 91 
 
 therefore, be worth only two, and accordingly says, 
 * But I should say it was dear at one dollar.’ ‘ How 
 can you presume to say that, when I gave three dollars 
 ninety cents for it myself, and only charge you a profit 
 of ten cents for my trouble in keeping it ? ’ A dispute 
 follows at great length; the salesman declares he is 
 being ruined ; that he is losing several dollars, and so 
 on. After much disputing they agree on two dollars, 
 which probably allows the basket-seller a profit of half 
 
 CHINESE PRISONERS WEARING THE CANGTJE. 
 
92 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 experience of the native brethren. Notwithstanding that 
 the old infirmity causes them sometimes to stumble, they 
 do make conscience of this matter, and are very reliable. 
 
 The ingenuity of the Chinaman in deception comes 
 out strangely in his pilfering habits. As we said of 
 their lying, where affection or self-interest constrain 
 
 them, they are all that could be wished. The same is 
 true of their honesty. Valuables may safely be entrusted 
 with a man who has sufficient reason to be honest ; but 
 all is fair gain that can be safely gotten, is the loose 
 principle of ‘childlike and bland’ John Chinaman. 
 Robbery becomes a high art with certain classes, 
 especially as the New Year approaches. Several years 
 ago, while the Supreme Court of Hong-kong was in 
 session, a man entered the court with a ladder, which 
 he proceeded to place upon a bench near the judge. 
 The judge and counsel were annoyed at the ill-timed 
 procedure, and asked what he wanted. He said he had 
 been sent to fetch the clock to be cleaned. In a rash 
 moment the judge said that, seeing he was already upon 
 the ladder, he might as well take the clock there and 
 
 then, instead of coming back for it at a more convenient 
 season, and so he did ; but that clock was never heard 
 of more ! We have known a house-top to be stripped 
 of its lead by persons who said they had been sent to 
 repair it. One almost feels as though they had earned 
 it by their daring 1 
 
 In regard to ill-gotten gains, the most striking feature 
 is commission on purchases and sales. The Chinese 
 are a nation of commission agents. A man would get 
 a percentage out of his own mother for buying something 
 for her. The foreign residents in China always take 
 this custom into their reckoning. They cannot alter it, 
 
HABITS AND MANNERS OF JOHN CHINAMAN. 93 
 
 and they accept the inevitable. If you are hiring a 
 cook, the wages may be stated at seven dollars a month : 
 the man to provide for himself. You do not say to 
 him, ‘ What commission are you going to take on what 
 you buy in the market ? ’ You make no reference to 
 the matter, nor does he ; and yet you know perfectly 
 well that he will get out of you a commission of at least 
 ten per cent, on even the smallest purchases. He will 
 buy them at one rate, and will hand you the bill at a 
 higher figure. So fully is this recognized that your 
 servant will walk down a street in which a particular 
 kind of goods are sold, calling out, ‘ How much dis- 
 count ? ’ The shopkeepers say, ‘ Eight, ten, fifteen, 
 twenty/ as they think well. The man then buys in 
 the cheapest market, and charges you the full price, 
 pocketing the difference. The Christians do this as 
 well as the heathen. It is a national custom, and is 
 looked upon simply as a legitimate perquisite. 
 
 The judicial corruption of the ruling classes is another 
 phase of Chinese manners. It is a question on which 
 much uncertainty must of necessity exist. All we can 
 know is the broad fact that the verdicts of the courts 
 are all but openly bought and sold. Now and again 
 one hears of a just magistrate, and such a man is all 
 but worshipped by the people. He does justly, however, 
 at the expense of his own comforts. The stipends of 
 officials are so low that a mandarin is miserably poor if 
 he does not resort to questionable practices. Even 
 of Li Hung-Chang, the most enlightened Chinese 
 statesman of the age, it was said that while he was 
 Mayor of Tientsin his stipend was only 100 dollars, but 
 he was known to be spending not less than 50,000 
 dollars a year. There is no reason to doubt the 
 
94 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 statement often made that men betake themselves to 
 university examinations and public life in order to 
 sweep into their own pockets whatever they can seize. 
 Bribery and corruption are all but universal among 
 officials. The man with the largest purse is sure of the 
 verdict. The rich man is squeezed, and the poor man is 
 ‘eaten up.’ No wonder the generality of the people 
 call these fatherly officials the ‘ lion-tigers of the land/ 
 But the saddest point of view from which to study 
 the manners of the Celestial is the question of his 
 sexual morality. We said above that the outward 
 propriety of the nation is very remarkable and praise- 
 worthy. But below all this veneer of good manners 
 there is often a state of corruption that is too terrible 
 to think of. If the language is the fullest of all in 
 polite expressions, there surely is not another as abundant 
 in unclean and vulgar terms. Care has to be exercised 
 in speaking Chinese to avoid using offensive language 
 by mistake. Their songs, their jests, their conversation, 
 their stage-plays are most unclean. The plays are so 
 thoroughly bad that, though they are held in the open 
 air, members of Christian churches would be disciplined 
 if it were known that they had attended them. In the 
 language of vituperation they exceed themselves in 
 uncleanness. The children grow up amidst the corrupt 
 and degraded conversation and behaviour, and early 
 learn the vices of their elders. The women are about 
 as bad as the men. 
 
 There we touch perhaps the secret of the whole 
 mischief. It may be that in the degraded position of 
 women in China lies the root of the evil. Feeling 
 themselves to be mere goods and chattels, and believing 
 that they have not souls like the men, they know little 
 
' HABITS AND MANNERS OF JOHN CHINAMAN. 95 
 
 or nothing of the dignity of pure womanhood. Sunk in 
 ignorance, and shut up to the narrow sphere of their 
 own female circle, they are removed from the elevating 
 influences which would fit them in their turn to use the 
 power for blessing that God has put in the hands of 
 good women. Not only are they untaught, but they are 
 not allowed to associate with their husbands’ friends. 
 When a visitor calls to see the husband, the wife and 
 daughters generally hide themselves until he is gone. 
 The wife never sits at table with her husband. The 
 rice is brought in steaming hot for the men and boys, 
 and when they have done, the women-folks can take 
 their meal. Not even the Christians deflect from that 
 rule. The pleasant, civilizing, and hallowing influences 
 of the society of the gentler sex are treated as valueless. 
 No man may dare to ask after the wife of another. 
 Propriety forbids that any reference whatever should be 
 made to her ! Even between intimate friends some 
 round-about phrase must be used instead of the 
 word ‘ wife.’ The term in most common use for wife, 
 * the house-back,’ that is, 4 the person at the back 
 of the house,’ or the still more suggestive term used in 
 the north of China, 4 the broom and dustpan,’ is only too 
 natural an expression of their opinion of the female sex. 
 The Chinaman addresses his wife as 4 Er-r-r,’ indefinitely 
 prolonged, — a syllable capable of accurately suggesting a 
 variety of conditions of mind, and she speaks to and of 
 him as 4 great mandarin.’ The state of the female sex 
 is not as bad in China as in some other Oriental countries. 
 The } 7 have a good deal more freedom, especially the 
 wives and daughters of working-people. They also 
 exercise a good deal of authority in the house, notwith- 
 standing that the rules of social life have placed them 
 
9 6 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 so low in the scale. It might even be said that China 
 is a thoroughly ‘ hen-pecked ’ country. But though 
 the women are not as badly off as in India or Turkey, 
 their state is sad enough to make the hearts of their 
 Western sisters bleed for them. Every one who has 
 any acquaintance with the home-life of China must long 
 for the time when the women will take their true 
 position, and be, not the servants, but the helpmeets 
 and companions of men. 
 
 Yet we confess to having a great admiration for 
 the Chinese people, notwithstanding all their faults. 
 We are weary of hearing them defamed, ridiculed, 
 and underrated by persons who have gathered their 
 information from the idle tattle of sailors who have 
 looked at crowds of dirty coolies at the ports of China; 
 or have conversed with merchants and others who never 
 knew a sentence of Chinese, and never entered a town 
 or village if they could help it ; or, what is worse, have 
 been misled by statements of the Irish ‘hoodlums’ 
 and American ‘politicians and carpet-baggers ’ of San 
 Francisco. Over against every vice with which we can 
 charge the Chinaman, we can bring a counter-charge 
 against large masses of our own countrymen. Thank 
 God, we do not lie so much, nor do we smoke opium, 
 nor treat our women badly ; but we have among us a 
 hundred thousand known drunkards, beside all the secret 
 tipplers ; and if there are degraded worshippers of idols 
 in China, there are millions of more degraded worshipers 
 of nothing in England. We do not make these remarks 
 with a view of shielding the Chinaman from the 
 accusation of godlessness, but only to suggest that we 
 must be charitable and just. It is true we may not 
 lower our moral standard in any degree ; nor does all 
 
HABITS AND MANNERS OF JOHN CHINAMAN. 97 
 
 we say in their behalf lessen in the least the necessity of 
 evangelistic effort; but we must make a measure of 
 allowance for the heathen, and in looking at their vices 
 not forget their virtues. These kinder judgments rather 
 encourage than discourage missionary effort. The 
 openness of the Chinese mind to moral considerations, 
 and to common sense and practical lines of thought and 
 action, make it likely that they will receive the truths 
 of the Gospel very readily. Their reverence for learning 
 and virtue, their geniality and intelligence, all tend 
 in one direction. They hasten that consummation 
 which all Christians are praying for and anticipating. 
 
 It should be understood that our words of praise of 
 the character of the Chinaman refer almost entirely to 
 the middle and lower classes. Foreigners in China 
 have very little opportunity of becoming intimately 
 acquainted with the ruling and ‘literary’ classes. As 
 far as they exhibit themselves in their opinions and 
 conduct, they seem to be as conceited, perverse, 
 conservative, and impracticable a generation as could 
 be found anywhere in the world. They openly declare 
 that ‘ they are the people, and that wisdom will die 
 with them.’ But the men that are met day by day on 
 the roads, in the inns and fields, the agricultural and 
 poorer class of business men, can justly make a certain 
 claim upon our respect and esteem, and not infrequently 
 our affection. The intense fondness of parents for their 
 children, the devotion of children to their parents, their 
 ready and genuine sorrow over the misfortunes of others, 
 their neighbourliness, their anxiety to oblige, their 
 simple and unsophisticated modes of thinking in many 
 respects, endear them not a little to those who really 
 know them. 
 
 H 
 
98 
 
 DIARY OF A MISSIONARY JOURNEY. 
 
 We left Amoy at nine a.ra. in the ‘Gospel boat/ — a 
 heavy craft designed to weather stormy times upon the 
 broad bays and rivers upon which we have to travel. 
 She is thirty feet long, ten feet in the beam, and draws 
 about two feet of water. There is a house, half upon 
 deck and half under, with two bunks for as many 
 missionaries, in which narrow compass we stretch out 
 our little travelling mattress. At the stern a portion of 
 the deck is movable, and lifting this as a trap-door, 
 one looks into a dark den, into which six or eight 
 
 t 
 
DIARY OF A MISS JONARY JOURNEY. 
 
 99 
 
 Chinese boatmen let themselves down to sleep. How 
 they contrive to spend ten minutes there without being 
 suffocated is their affair, and not mine, since they are 
 perfectly contented with their quarters. 
 
 For three hours there was only a gentle wind, but 
 at twelve o’clock a stiff breeze sprang up, and we 
 reached our anchorage at two. On the way there were 
 the usual sights, so surprising to a new-comer, but so 
 stale to those who see them constantly. Men were 
 seen by scores apparently walking on the water, but in 
 reality standing on a few thick pieces of bamboo. On 
 these are fastened rowlocks eighteen inches high, 
 and by means of small oars these sea-walkers propel 
 themselves in the direction of their nets. Others were 
 sitting on these bamboo life-preservers, coolly fishing 
 with a dozen lines, each of which has a large number 
 of hooks. 
 
 We anchored a quarter of a mile from shore, 
 and were fetched from our boat by a rickety punt. 
 Crossing a potato-field soon after landing, I saw the 
 largest snake I had yet met with out of a menagerie. 
 It was about eight feet long, and thicker than my wrist, 
 with small head and tapering tail. I must have almost 
 trodden upon it, for it bounded away from my feet with 
 a motion like a horse galloping. 
 
 The village of Tung-a-be (end of the little pond) 
 consists of only about fifty mud houses. There is a 
 large population in numerous villages around. The 
 chapel is in a quiet spot, and towers above the 
 one-story huts close by. It is painted all the colours 
 of the rainbow, in approved Chinese fashion, while 
 on the front of the pulpit, desk, or cupboard is the 
 national device of two golden dragons threatening to do 
 
 H 2 
 
100 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA . 
 
 something dreadful to one another. The women’s seats 
 are behind the pulpit, and a screen of wood and bamboo 
 extends from the pulpit to the wall on the other side, 
 completely concealing the women, who have an entrance- 
 door to themselves. There is a gallery paved with red 
 tiles, upon which are built the rooms occupied by the 
 
 TUNG-A-BK CHAPEL. 
 
 preacher in charge, the missionary upon his visits, 
 and there is an empty space used for prayer-meetings. 
 
 The preacher, a young man much given to chanting 
 the Scriptures as he reads them, seems to be developing 
 a talent for hymn writing. He has turned the 65th 
 and 95th Psalms into Chinese very well indeed. I gave 
 him last night the translation of the 1178th hymn in 
 
DIARY OF A MISSIONARY JOURNEY. 10 1 
 
 the Congregational Hymn-book, ‘ Let me be with Thee 
 where Thou art,’ and pointed out the antithetic form of 
 the verses. His version makes the rhymes and accent 
 occur on the fifth and tenth syllables of each line, 
 making the hymn to be eight lines fives. We have 
 set it to the tune given on p. 221, which I heard 
 played some time ago at Chioh-be by a band of two 
 violins, one banjo, and one flageolet. 
 
 The preacher and I went to a neighbouring village 
 this afternoon to hire a sedan-chair for Monday morning, 
 but without success. We had several opportunities 
 of talking about Christ to the people. Not such 
 preaching as friends at home are accustomed to 
 think of when they read or hear of a missionary talking 
 to the heathen. 
 
 Missionary preaching in the open air is a very simple 
 affair. You will be near the mark if you imagine the 
 messenger of the Gospel in a straw hat and a pea-jacket 
 sitting on a broken wall (there is always a broken wall 
 handy in a village), or on a doorstep, or on a form at the 
 front of an eating-house, conversing freely with a score 
 of Chinamen, all of whom perhaps bear some mark of their 
 occupation, while a number of boys in very scanty clothing 
 thrust themselves to the front, and a few women linger 
 at a distance, just beyond the range of hearing. 
 
 On the way back we called upon one of the church 
 members. The men were out, but as there were only 
 one very old woman and some little children at home 
 we went in to give her a kind word. The whole stock 
 of the large house would be priced at only a few shillings. 
 The broken-down state of the place, the dirt and litter, 
 are almost beyond description. Spinning-wheels, pots, 
 kettles, ploughs, big jars, children, flour-mills, pigs, 
 
102 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 straw, ducks, chickens, benches, chairs, were all mixed 
 up in one confused mass ; while the open court within 
 the circuit of rooms was a sort of cesspool twenty 
 feet square and eight inches deep, filled with black 
 effervescing corruption. How the poor live is a question 
 that puzzles philanthropists at home, but how the 
 Chinaman manages to survive the fetid smells that meet 
 his olfactories at every turn in town and village, is a 
 question that the traveller asks himself each hour of 
 the day. Five families live in this one shed, or series 
 of sheds. The old lady was very kind, insisted on 
 brewing tea, and thrust into the preacher’s handkerchief 
 some horrid cakes, which she went out to buy. 
 
 After one or two interesting conversations on religious 
 matters we got home. I had my tea in a queer little 
 study-parlour-dining-bed-room, and then went down 
 to spend an hour or two with the evening worshippers, 
 who were inaugurating the service by taking their rice 
 together amid a babel of discussion. 
 
 Probably the reader would like to be told what are 
 a missionary bishop’s duties on a Sunday in a place such 
 as Tung-a-be. We held a prayer-meeting at 9.30, 
 and morning service began at 10.30, the congregation 
 being composed largely of Christians coming in from 
 long distances, and numbering about sixty in all. I 
 conducted the devotions, and expounded a chapter. 
 Wishing to hear my young friend, the lay-pastor, preach, 
 I gave him last evening the text, ‘ God is love,’ and we 
 talked it over this morning. He reproduced all I 
 suggested with remarkable accuracy ; but it w r as a very 
 dull and lifeless discourse; he simply carried out my 
 instructions. I followed with a short talk on the same 
 theme. Then deacons’ meeting, in the course of which 
 
DIARY OF A MISSIONARY JOURNEY. IO3 
 
 we called in one of the congregation who has been 
 attending for nine years without seeking baptism. At 
 2.30, afternoon service, beginning with the public 
 catechizing of eight candidates for baptism, after which 
 I preached on f That which is highly esteemed among 
 men is abomination in the sight of God,’ turning the 
 subject towards the sacraments and the Lord’s Supper 
 in particular. The communion followed, thirty-nine 
 church members partaking of it. We then, in ‘ church 
 meeting,’ arranged some matters of public business 
 in which all the members were interested. The 
 worshippers from a distance started for home between 
 four and five o’clock, amid many hearty cries of, ‘ My 
 brothers, peace, peace be with you ! ’ The ‘ dark 
 assembly,’ as the evening service is called, was a 
 little sociable gathering round a long table, after the 
 rice was cleared away. 
 
 Perhaps this is the place to tell what baggage we 
 carry when on a journey like this. At one end of my 
 porter’s pole hangs a big white sack, oil painted, to 
 make it waterproof. In this is a mattress, less than 
 an inch thick, and clothing. To save space, no pillow, 
 but pillow-cases, which can be stuffed with clothes. 
 The bag also contains a small stock of tracts and 
 Gospels. At the other end of the pole is the provision 
 store, a basket in three stories. Being out for so long 
 a trip, there is considerable variety of perishables, and 
 a most cosmopolitan assortment it is. Tinned beef and 
 jam from California, biscuits from England, butter from 
 Denmark, milk from Switzerland, sardines from France, 
 guava-jelly from India, preserved ginger from Canton, 
 condiments from one-doesn’t-know-where, and lucifer 
 matches from Norway. One of the first things to be 
 
104 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 learned as missionary-traveller is what kind of food is 
 to be had in any particular locality. The only articles 
 to be relied upon are chickens, eggs, rice, and fruit, and 
 only the last two are to be had everywhere. One lives 
 chiefly on these, with an occasional variation gathered 
 from the basket, and served with what skill he possesses 
 by Master Mercy, the cook. 
 
 MISTER MERCY, THE COOK. 
 
 Silence has now fallen on the chapel premises. The 
 last of the preacher’s friends has gone his way, and the 
 door is barred. If you want to learn what solitude 
 is, come to China and travel inland. Wait till the 
 bustle of the day is over, and you are left to your own 
 reflections. If the mosquitoes are agreeable, you will 
 then have leisure for thought. 
 
 We left Tung-a-be at half-past five a.m., walking 
 through the fields four miles to the nearest town. 
 Passing on, at eight o’clock we rested in a ruined temple 
 
DIARY OF A MISSIONARY JOURNEY. 105 
 
 in a very busy market-place, overshadowed by magnificent 
 banyan trees. As we discussed breakfast in sight of 
 the crowds of interested and noisy spectators, I kept 
 up a running dispute for an hour as to the hire of a 
 chair. All declared they were too much engaged to 
 carry my ‘honourable body/ it being pea-nut harvest, 
 and every one busy in the fields. When at last I had 
 settled with two men to carry me till evening for four 
 hundred cash each (eighteenpence of our money), they 
 came and begged for two hundred cash in advance to 
 buy rice on the road. As this is customary the money 
 was advanced, but when the rascals had carried me a 
 hundred yards they sold me to two poor opium-smokers 
 for three hundred cash each, and disappeared with the 
 two hundred that had been advanced. During the day 
 we passed through some good scenery, and reached this 
 collection of miserable huts between five and six in the 
 evening. For a consideration of fourpence halfpenny 
 we persuaded the keeper of the handsome Mandarin’s 
 Hotel, outside the village of Go-leng (‘Five Dragons’), 
 to let us occupy it for the night. So here we are, 
 missionary, servant, porter, and chair-bearers; and we 
 have just been singing hymns and reading Acts xvii. 
 beneath the noses of the idols. The house and courts 
 cover about a quarter of an acre, but are innocent of 
 everything in the way of furniture, except bed-boards, 
 two tables, four chairs, and an altar with large idols. 
 
 It was a cold, dark, and drizzling morninq- when we 
 left Five Dragons at five o’clock, and we trudged on 
 in silence for some hours over the granite hills until 
 we reached Chinchew, a city of 400,000 inhabitants. 
 There were many things worth noting on the road : such 
 as a massive stone bridge as long as London Bridge ; 
 
106 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 the great gateways of stone, twenty-five feet thick ; 
 a causeway two miles in length across paddy fields, 
 the stones being ten feet long, two wide, and fifteen 
 inches thick, five of them making the breadth of the 
 road ; the great structures over the inner gates of the 
 city, looking like Brobdignagian bird-cages. At half- 
 past nine we began to cross the suburbs, and forty 
 minutes’ walk through the crowded streets, and under 
 elegant memorial arches, brought us to the door of the 
 English Presbyterian Mission Chapel. Here we rested 
 half-an-hour and breakfasted. Passing on, still on foot, 
 in half-an-hour we reached the other side of the city, 
 and hired a chair to continue the journey. The roads 
 were thronged with country people bringing goods into 
 the city. There are no wheeled vehicles made in the 
 south of China ; the porterage has therefore to be done 
 by stalwart human limbs, and splendid beasts of burden 
 do these chattering Celestials make. 
 
 Five hours brought us to the sea-side once more, and 
 to the western end of what Dr. Medhurst speaks of as 
 ‘ the longest bridge in the world.’ It may be that at 
 the time he wrote he was almost right. It took us 
 just ten minutes to get over it . 1 Half-way across we 
 found the faithful preacher (now an ordained pastor) of 
 Lo-iu (‘ Descending-to-the-Sea ’) chapel. He had been 
 waiting for us an hour and a half. You will think he 
 had calculated the time of our arrival pretty accurately, 
 seeing that we left Amoy four days ago. The chapel is 
 a strange shape. Imagine a shed with concrete walls, 
 standing about forty feet square, but with a room 
 partitioned off at each corner, so that the space for the 
 
 1 At the close of this chapter is a description of the bridge, and the 
 legend as to the mode of its construction. 
 
DIARY OF A MISSIONARY JOURNEY. 107 
 
 congregation is shaped like a cross, and you will then, 
 if you can add the dinginess, see what Lo-iu chapel is 
 like. The crowd to see me was immense. Only 
 missionaries come this way, and they at very long 
 intervals. Many in the crowd, on account of my beard 
 probably, saluted me respectfully as ‘Foreign emperor/ 
 
 Several Christian brethren had come from the 
 districts further north to meet me. We sat for three 
 hours, talking over the affairs of the churches, while 
 the chapel was thronged by an eager crowd, and the 
 windows were blocked with heads. A Chinese crowd 
 like this delights to reproduce whatever the foreigner 
 says or does. If he is eating they will lift up their 
 hands in the same way. They pass the word from the 
 foreground to the rear, ‘the foreigner is eating/ ‘the 
 foreigner is writing/ ‘the foreigner laughs/ ‘the 
 foreigner says so and so/ Evening worship, and more 
 talk, brought the day to a close. 
 
 The mosquitoes here are fearful creatures. I feel as 
 though I had never seen mosquitoes before. They have 
 black and white rings round the body, and are twice' 
 as large as any of their cousins I have previously met. 
 They positively will not take ‘ no ’ for an answer. 
 Whenever I remarked on their pressing attentions, 
 some dear brother would reply pathetically, ‘ Ah, at Lo-iu 
 mosquitoes are dense and savage/ They bite through 
 thick clothes, and are so numerous that now the candles 
 are lit, and their manners and numbers are at the worst, 
 they look like smoke ; and — alas, it is too true ! — there 
 are holes in the mosquito curtain round the bed-boards. 
 
 After a night in which rats as well as mosquitoes 
 figured conspicuously, I prepared to meet the Lo-iu 
 congregation. They, on their part, must also have 
 
io8 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 prepared to meet me, for they were at chapel by nine 
 o’clock, although some have many miles to walk. After 
 preaching, communion, and catechizing, I left in what 
 we call an open chair — that is, a rough basket on two 
 poles. Two hours’ trot along the crowded Foochow 
 high road was plain work to the bearers, but when we 
 turned off into the fields, with the intention of coming 
 to Soa-tsui (‘ In-front-of-the-Hill *), they declined to go 
 any further towards such outlandish places, and we had 
 to walk the remaining ten miles. For the last six miles 
 the way consisted of bare granite hills with crevasses 
 worn by the rains of ages at every hundred yards or so. 
 The road, therefore, had to run so as to suit these deep 
 gullies. It became more difficult as we advanced. 
 Soon it was evident that we had missed our way. 
 Night began to fall. The hill that had served as a 
 beacon had long disappeared behind the rugged piles of 
 granite among which we wandered. It was evident 
 that every step had to be considered. We sat down to 
 rest for ten minutes, while one of our company assured 
 me that the spot where we sat changes its form in a 
 high wind, and that a village lies buried beneath the 
 fine sand upon which our feet rested. A quarter of a 
 mile further it became evident that we could not proceed 
 without danger, and we began to think of remaining 
 where we were for the night. The bark of dogs, however, 
 suggested that human habitations must be near at 
 hand. Accordingly, a native brother and myself sat 
 down on the sand in the dark, while the third member 
 of our company followed the sound of the dogs. Before 
 very long he returned with a lantern and directions as 
 to how to proceed. By the aid of this dim light we 
 continued our journey through rougher ways than any we 
 
DIARY OF A MISSIONARY JOURNEY. 109 
 
 had yet crossed, and soon were settled in the comfortable 
 little chapel belonging to oar fellow-Christians in 
 Soa-tsui, whose inhabitants generally are politely called 
 fishermen, but who might be described by a less pleasant, 
 though more accurate, designation as pirates. 
 
 Mine host the preacher began to receive visitors at 
 4.30 a.m., effectually cutting short my night’s rest. 
 Going out in the early morning, Soa-tsui was seen to 
 consist of about fifty houses near the sea, on a wild 
 and barren coast. We had service at nine o’clock, 
 followed by the Lord’s Supper, and a long discussion 
 on the affairs of the church. Having only ten miles 
 to walk to-day, we dined at Soa-tsui. The route (we 
 cannot say the road, where there was no semblance of 
 a path) lay across another part of the wilderness we 
 crossed last nisdit. Although it is October the heat 
 of the sun on the sand and rocks was very oppressive. 
 Fortunately for thirsty souls such as we, eight or ten 
 of the brethren were walking to their homes in the 
 direction in which we had to go, and we rested awhile 
 in their village and drank tea. 
 
 The chapel in the little walled city of Lam-bang 
 (‘ The-Grave-facing-South ’) is a most gloomy place, 
 black and prison-like. It was once a pawn-shop. The 
 brotherhood of the three golden balls in China build 
 their houses in such fashion that ‘thieves may not 
 break through nor steal.’ The windows of this house 
 are mere slits, and the thick bars which once guarded 
 the various store and treasure rooms have not yet been 
 removed. The whole place — floor, walls, and ceilings — 
 is literally as black as soot. Anything more unlike a 
 house of prayer one could scarcely imagine. But the 
 work in Lam-bang may be described as ‘ holding the 
 
I 10 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 fort.’ Some of the noblest victories of the Cross have 
 been won in darker dens than this, and worshippers as 
 faithful may meet to strengthen one another in God in 
 an ex-pawn-shop as in a cathedral which has been 
 centuries in building. The Holy One ‘ dwells not in 
 temples made with hands/ but in the humble and the 
 contrite heart. At present Christ’s Gospel is spoken 
 of in Lam-bang as foolishness, and we take courage 
 from the thought that the weak and foolish things of 
 the world confound the things that are wise and 
 mighty. 
 
 After service at Lam-bang, and making arrangements 
 to have the dirty place cleaned and whitewashed, five 
 hours’ walking brought us to Ke-chhu (‘ Residence of 
 families surnamed Ke ’). The way was all marshy and 
 close to the sea. Salt-making is here an important 
 occupation. The low land is covered with large pans 
 of concrete, about fifteen feet square and two inches 
 deep. Sea-water is poured in and allowed to evaporate, 
 after which the deposit of salt is swept up. A rainy 
 year must be disastrous to the trade, for not any of the 
 pans are covered over. The salt is very bitter and coarse. 
 The taste of it produces much the same sensation as 
 biting one’s tongue. 
 
 Passing through the village of Yap-chhu, I was 
 astonished to see the words ‘Gospel Hall’ on a house 
 we were approaching. It proved to be the dwelling of 
 Christians, used in former years as a chapel. About 
 thirty-five persons still meet there for worship. All 
 the premises were clean, light, and airy. The brethren 
 gave us a very kind reception, and the villagers turned 
 out en masse to have a look at the stranger. My 
 courteous host gave me the use of an upper room in 
 
DIARY OF A MISSIONARY JOURNEY. Ill 
 
 which to dine, and I and my companions were feasted 
 with abundant rice and potatoes. 
 
 Ke-chhu chapel is very elegant, judged by Chinese 
 notions. It is the central hall, or * guest-room/ of a 
 good-sized house. The guest-room of a Chinese dwelling 
 has only three walls, the whole of the front being open 
 to the court. Here the court is small, but there are 
 trees and flowers to ornament it, one of which is a 
 lofty pumelo tree, that fruit of which the Amoy region 
 may dare to make its boast in face of the whole world. 
 
 Quite a crowd of young women came and stood at 
 the door watching me and my friends. It is a fact 
 worth noting, because generally the Chinese women are 
 so extremely shy (the rules of society demand it), and 
 they can satisfy their curiosity only by brief and 
 surreptitious glances. But this evening, when we 
 arrived, quite a bevy of pretty girls, with their arms 
 about one another’s necks, crowded up to the door, 
 laughing heartily and chattering like starlings in a tree, 
 joking good-humouredly about everything we did. 
 
 The females on this side of Chinchew are very ' 
 different in their appearance and habits from their 
 sisters further south. They dress more simply and are 
 much more active. In the Amoy region all the 
 women have bound feet, with the exception of the 
 slave girls, so-called, the domestic drudges who stand 
 in a relation very much like compulsory servitude to 
 their mistresses. The practice of foot- binding leaves 
 its mark upon the constitution, the inactivity necessarily 
 entailed on the women resulting in a stunted frame, a 
 sallow complexion, and an irritable temper. The joy 
 of existence must be a thing utterly unknown to the 
 small-footed women. 
 
I 12 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 In this Chinchew prefecture, however, great numbers 
 of the women go about with as much freedom as the 
 men. Their dress is cotton cloth of a dark-blue colour, 
 and fitting better to the shape than Chinese garments 
 generally do. The trowsers reach to a little above the 
 ankles ; round the waist an apron is tied which falls to 
 the knees ; the jacket fits almost as close as a jersey ; 
 and round the forehead, an inch or so above the eye- 
 brows, they wear a coronet of black satin, which gives a 
 pleasing appearance to the head. Very few of them 
 have their feet bound. They seem to be as ph) 7 sically 
 energetic as the other sex. On the sea-shore the 
 women fish with the nets, and in the fields they are 
 working with the hoe and the plough. I asked some of 
 them how it was their feet were not bound, and they 
 said, ‘ It is not our custom ; for ten thousand generations 
 the women have gone about with their feet free/ The 
 fact is, that this custom of foot-binding, like every other 
 in China, is local. The most contradictory statements 
 have been made by writers on China, simply because 
 they have not mentioned the purely local character of 
 the manners and customs they described. 
 
 What an excitement that young woman now standing 
 at the door would create if she walked down Cheapside 
 in that dress ! Her pretty feet are bare ; her trowsers 
 scarlet, with dark-blue figuring round the ankles : her 
 gown sky-blue, worked round the border of the neck 
 and sleeves and lower edge with a white lace pattern ; 
 her hair is parted in the middle, brushed down in front, 
 and at the back there is a wonderful arrangement of 
 hair over a wire frame, like two half-opened fans, while 
 projecting out - of it over the head is a large silver 
 tuning-fork with made flowers stuck in it. She has just 
 
DIARY OF A MISSIONARY JOURNEY. 1 1 3 
 
 been making merry jests about my personal appearance ; 
 it seems to me that there is room to retort with interest. 
 
 Service was at nine o’clock this morning at Ke-chhu. 
 The chapel was filled by a crowd who came from a 
 distance. Only two or three of this Christian com- 
 munity live in the village. Here, as elsewhere, it is 
 commonly the case that few converts are made in the 
 immediate neighbourhood of a chapel. The Chinese 
 version of our proverb, ‘The nearer the church the 
 further from God, ’ is, ‘Near the temple, forsake the 
 spirit.’ Our congregations are mostly gathered from 
 long distances around the place of worship. 
 
 There is this that is notable in regard to the com- 
 position of churches throughout the Amoy district, and 
 to a large extent throughout the churches of China, 
 that seven-tenths of the males belong to the agricultural 
 class. The reason is not that the farmers are a more 
 simple-minded and unprejudiced race than shopkeepers, 
 but that they have not as serious a stumbling-block in 
 their way in regard to Sabbath observance. The sanctity 
 of the Sabbath is made a law of the church, not only 
 because there is sufficient warrant for it in the New 
 Testament, but also because Sabbath desecration is, 
 without exception, coincident with laxity of religious 
 principle and earnestness. This is a very heavy cross 
 for a shopkeeper to take up. He says he cannot close 
 his shop, that if he were to he would be ruined. The 
 farmer, on the other hand, does not find this rule to be 
 so difficult a one to observe. He has only to work a 
 little harder on other days of the week ; or perhaps one 
 should rather say, not take quite so much leisure on 
 other days of the week; he can come with a quiet 
 mind to the Sabbath services, and enjoy the rest his 
 
1 1 4 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 Creator designed be should have, and obtain the 
 spiritual meat his soul so greatly needs. 
 
 A c peaceful habitation ’ and a ‘ quiet resting-place * 
 is this little chapel at Ko-kwai. The women-folks, 
 however, are rather badly treated. In front of the 
 room used for worship is a small garden with trees 
 in boxes. At the end of this is a brick wall with 
 spaces four inches square between the bricks. The 
 female portion of the congregation have to sit behind 
 this wall, where they can scarcely see or hear at all. 
 
 I slept in a ‘ chamber on the wall’ — perhaps quite 
 as good as that provided for the prophet Elisha — at 
 Ko-kwai (‘Ancient Departmental City’). It is about 
 nine feet square, one half is occupied by the boards of 
 the bed. The floor is made of pine-trees split in two, 
 the rounded sides being uppermost. Spaces between 
 these admit air nicely, though of course no such idea 
 was in the mind of the builders. There are three 
 square holes to let in light and air from the outer world. 
 Were it not for several varieties of vermin who are 
 occupying the lodging as well as I, it would be quite a 
 comfortable place to rest in at the end of the week. 
 
 This is Saturday night. It has been a week of much 
 travelling, much preaching, much talking, and much 
 anxious consideration of the affairs of the churches ; 
 but there are signs of spiritual life in many of the 
 members which are very cheering. The Christian 
 Church in these parts may be likened to a cloud no 
 bisfo'er than a man’s hand, but the cloud is there, and 
 we believe it will grow until it covers all, and breaks in 
 showers of blessing. 
 
 At seven o’clock this morning we left Ko-kwai for the 
 little village of Baw-pi. Three hours’ march brought 
 
DIARY OF A MISSIONARY JOURNEY. H5 
 
 ns to the chapel, situated in a pretty valley, closely shut 
 in by hills reaching to a height of 2000 feet. There was 
 no time to spare. The congregation had been assembled 
 an hour or two. We had service at once, settled a 
 few matters of business in the church, and started for 
 the district city of Hui-an. This place is not only the 
 centre of the district governmentally and geographically, 
 but is also in the centre of the group of churches in 
 these parts. It might be called the cathedral city of 
 the diocese of our friend Lim, the pastor. In that 
 sense, and I assure you in that sense alone, does it 
 deserve the name it bears of ‘ Grace and Peace.’ May 
 the name prove prophetic of the grace to be bestowed 
 upon it, and of the peace to reign in it ! 
 
 Five months ago this chapel was destroyed by the 
 mob. Three thousand persons filled the space in front. 
 The pastor Lim, the preacher, and several others, 
 escaped over the back wall, and wandered in distant 
 villages for several days before venturing to strike the 
 road for Amoy. Everything was completely destroyed ; 
 even the tiles of the floor were broken up. There seems 
 no reason to doubt that the riot was instigated by the 
 mandarins. At any rate the ringleaders belonged to 
 the Yamuns, and have received no punishment. The 
 British Vice-Consul came up to discuss the matter with 
 the authorities, who have levied a tax on the town for 
 repairs. At present the chapel is only half finished. 
 The floor has no tiles, nor is all the roof on. So we 
 have had an airy service. 
 
 These riotous Hui-an folks have done a curious 
 thing, which shows that their objection to us is very 
 largely superstitious, and not merely dislike of the 
 foreigner. The neighbours complained of the singing 
 
1 1 6 E VER YD A Y LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 of Christian hymns. They said it npset the idols and 
 the evil spirits of the ward, which is very likely indeed. 
 When they found that the chapel was really to be 
 rebuilt, and that the singing misliked of demons was to 
 continue, they held a consultation as to what they 
 could do to protect the poor fiends from being dis- 
 turbed. One of the wiseacres — a Feng-shui doctor, I 
 suppose — suggested that a wall should be erected in 
 front of the chapel, and that dragons and demons should 
 be depicted thereon in a state of frenzy. Thereupon 
 they put themselves to the trouble and expense of 
 building a wall seven feet high and many yards in 
 length at a distance of perhaps twenty feet away from 
 the entrance to the chapel. The artist has succeeded 
 in painting some of the most rabid-looking wild beasts 
 I ever saw. There are also demons, but I am no judge 
 of those, as I presume the artist is. But, thanks to the 
 superstition, the deluded haters of the Christian faith 
 have put up a wall which gives a neat appearance to 
 our chapel entry, and forms a broad and quiet court- 
 yard, much more pleasant than when exposed to the 
 piece of waste land in front. 
 
 The crowded congregation this afternoon was repre- 
 sentative of almost the whole diocese. There were 
 also a few friends from Amoy, and from Changchow, a 
 hundred and ten miles away. 
 
 So ends the week of visitation of these seven churches. 
 It has been laborious, but very stimulating and encour- 
 aging. These isolated congregations seem in a much 
 more healthy condition than those nearer to Amoy. 
 The number of baptized persons is upwards of 200, 
 and they are contributing steadily and freely for the 
 support of the ministry, although extremely poor. If a 
 
DIARY OF A MISSIONARY JOURNEY. 
 
 H7 
 
 foreign missionary could reside in Hui-an for six months 
 of the year, going out on alternate Sundays to one of 
 the other six churches, the work might be very largely 
 expanded. There is quite a Christian sentiment grow- 
 ing in the district. Three congregations of professedly 
 Christian Chinese, numbering in all 116 persons, are 
 meeting every Sunday for worship in their own neigh- 
 bourhoods, without being under the supervision of 
 missionaries or native preachers. ‘ The harvest truly is 
 plenteous, but the labourers are few. Pray ye there- 
 fore the Lord of the harvest that He will send forth 
 labourers into His harvest.’ 
 
 THE GREAT BRIDGE OF LO-IU. 
 
 At the market-town of Loyang, or Lo-iu, eighty 
 miles north-east of Amoy, stands a bridge which is one 
 of the monuments of ancient art and enterprise in 
 China. It is built across an estuary which at low tide 
 is a mud flat, covered with oyster-beds. The river, at 
 this point about forty yards wide, runs rapidly near the 
 centre of the expanse of mud. When the tide is in 
 the whole is completely covered from shore to shore. 
 
 The bridge is a thousand yards long. I timed myself 
 to nine and a half minutes’ quick walking in crossing 
 it. One hundred and twenty piers, which rise to nearly 
 forty feet above high-water mark, support the long 
 masses of granite which span the space between the 
 shores. The buttresses on the north side are very 
 massive, in order to resist the pressure of the spring 
 torrents. After 800 years of wear the roadway is in very 
 good condition. Five blocks of stone, each twenty feet 
 and more in length, and two feet in breadth, form the 
 
1 1 8 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 road, which is therefore about ten feet broad, though it 
 varies somewhat. On either side is a heavy balustrade, 
 or railing, of massive granite, held in position, not by 
 cement, but block fitting into block in sockets. 
 
 The story of its origin is substantially written on a 
 tablet at one end of the structure. Before the bridge 
 was built, travellers and market people were compelled 
 to cross this estuary in the ferry-boats, or they must 
 needs make a long detour which would b e a good part 
 of a day’s journey. But there are hills to the north at 
 which they used to look with gruesome awe, because 
 sudden squalls would come down upon the water in 
 spring and summer, and many lives were lost by the 
 upsetting of the boats. These squalls did not arise like 
 common breezes. They were caused by two wicked 
 fairies who lived up there among the hills, shaped like 
 a tortoise and a snake, or at the bottom of the river, in 
 the form of a boat and a man. 
 
 And this was the way they carried on their mis- 
 chievous and wicked tricks. When they had come 
 down from the hills, and had transformed themselves 
 into a man and a boat, the boat and man used to 
 appear at the ferry to seek for fares. There was no 
 telling them from ordinary boats and men; so they 
 took their passages into mid-stream, and then came the 
 terrible ‘ squall of the fairies ’ ; the boat sank ; the 
 man and boat became a snake and a tortoise, and 
 devoured the poor people at their leisure. 
 
 Now it happened that about the year 1000 A.D. a 
 boat full of market folk was nearing the fatal spot 
 where so many people had been carried off by the 
 fairies. The wind began to blow all ways at once. 
 The waves broke into the midst of the passengers, who 
 
DIAR Y OF A MISSION A R Y JO URNE Y. 1 1 9 
 
 cried out that the tortoise and the snake were upon 
 them. Amid the lamentations, however, a voice was 
 heard distinctly saying, ‘ Chhah, the mandarin in the 
 boat, must build a bridge/ No sooner were the words 
 uttered than the winds subsided, and the boat reached 
 the shore in safety. 
 
 Great and grave was the discussion as to the 
 mysterious voice. There was clearly something 
 supernatural about it. ‘ Who among us bears the 
 surname Chhah ? ’ No one replied, until at length a 
 woman timidly confessed that her husband’s surname 
 was Chhah, and that she had married him a few 
 months before. With one consent all declared that 
 she would become the mother of a man whose work 
 should be to build a bridge over this dangerous creek, 
 and so defeat the wicked fairies. 
 
 Not long after this a son was born to her, whom she 
 named Siang, and she vowed that Chhah Siang should 
 obey ‘the heavenly command.’ He proved to be an 
 intelligent child. His mother wrought upon his 
 youthful imagination by constantly describing what' 
 a fine thing it was to be a mandarin, and rule over 
 large masses of people. She gave him a good education 
 which would fit him for office. And as he grew into 
 youth, she revealed to him the remarkable facts that 
 had heralded his birth. The boy was powerfully im- 
 pressed by the story she told of the voice from the air. 
 He resolved to spare no efforts to fulfil his mission. 
 
 He had, however, to face a very grave difficulty. 
 There is an ancient law in China that forbids any 
 magistrate to hold office in the neighbourhood where 
 he was born. What was to be done ? How could he 
 overcome this formidable barrier to his noble ambition ? 
 
120 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 He had passed his early examinations, and was ready 
 for office. He determined now to proceed to Peking, 
 to seek employment in the imperial palace, and then 
 to wait his opportunity. He was about fifty years of 
 age, and in daily attendance upon the emperor, when he 
 matured his plans for carrying out his life-long project. 
 Knowing that the emperor was intending to take a 
 walk in the palace grounds, Chhah Siang went down 
 the grove an hour before, and having previously chosen 
 a tree with an ants’ nest at its foot, he wrote in larsre 
 characters with a brush and a pot of honey, ‘Chahh 
 Siang, the learned, be magistrate in your native 
 prefectural city.’ He then returned to the palace to 
 accompany the emperor on his walk. 
 
 The party soon set out, and passing down the grove, 
 the emperor caught sight of a mass of ants marshalled 
 in squadrons which shaped them on the trunk of the 
 tree into Chinese characters. In breathless astonish- 
 ment the emperor stood still and read aloud, ‘ Chhah 
 Siang, the learned, be magistrate in your native pre- 
 fectural city ! ’ In a moment Chhah Siang, pretending 
 not to notice that the emperor was only reading what 
 was on the tree, fell upon his knees and thanked him 
 for the appointment. In vain the emperor protested 
 that he had not intended to nominate him for office. 
 The Celestial prince was reminded that he could not 
 recall the words he certainly had uttered. The law 
 was overruled for this once, seeing that there seemed 
 to be a divine omen in it. Chhah Siang returned to 
 the southern province of Fuh-kien, and became prefect 
 of Chinchew, the city whose authority governs Lo-iu. 
 
 At once Chhah Siang began to gather funds, and to 
 make needful preparation for the great work he had 
 
DIARY OF A MISSION A R Y JOURNEY. 1 21 
 
 before him. He devoted all his leisure time to 
 rousing the enthusiasm of the people in regard to the 
 proposed bridge. He called on the whole prefecture for 
 voluntary subscriptions. The towns and villages caught 
 their governor’s enthusiasm, and responded heartily. 
 
 The task was gigantic. After many years of labour, 
 in which vast sums of money had been spent, it seemed 
 likely to fail because of the impossibility of laying the 
 foundations of the centre piers, where still the stream 
 flows rapidly at low tide. If the river were to run 
 almost dry the thing might be done ; but unfortunately 
 even a long period of drought scarcely affected this part 
 of the stream at all. After suffering distress of mind 
 for many months, and trying every imaginable scheme, 
 a happy thought occurred to Chhah Siang. He resolved 
 to write a letter to the god of the sea, and to ask his 
 Marine Majesty to be so kind as to draw off all the 
 water. When the letter was ready, Chhah, sitting on 
 his magistrate’s bench, said, ‘ Who is able to descend to 
 the sea ? ’ A man in the chamber at once said, * Here 
 am I, your Excellency.’ Now, it should be explained 
 that Chinese names are usually translatable, and on 
 this occasion it happened that in the hall was a man 
 whose name was Ui Loh-iu (‘ Able Descend-sea ’), who, 
 thinking himself called, replied to Chhah’s question. 
 They laughed a little at the mistake, but regarded 
 it as a good omen, and Mr. ‘Able Descend-sea’ was 
 compelled to make good his name. 
 
 Ui Loh-iu took the letter, and proceeded to seek an 
 interview with the god of the sea. He chose a spot at 
 low tide that was moderately clean, and lay down to 
 wait for the tide to return and cover him. Here he 
 fell asleep, and when he awoke he found himself still 
 
1 22 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 in the same place and quite comfortable; but his letter 
 to Neptune was gone, while in its place was another 
 addressed to the prefect. It did not occur to him that 
 this was the answer required, but he thought it best to 
 bring it to Chinchew, and deliver it to his master. 
 Opening it, Chhah Siang found only one large character 
 written inside, — the word vinegar. 
 
 1b Ts’o 
 
 This was indeed most confusing. Long and earnestly 
 did the prefect gaze upon it, till he felt himself turning 
 sour and angry. But a lucky fortune-teller made a 
 happy hit by suggesting that the character Tso could 
 be taken to pieces, thus, 
 
 Two Ten One Day Evening 
 
 Twenty-first day , at evening. The explanation was at 
 once clear. The laconic reply was from Neptune himself. 
 Preparations were made in anticipation of the water 
 being very low on the evening of the twenty-first of the 
 month, and were not made in vain. The water all ran 
 off, and the foundations of the central piers were 
 successfully laid before the tide returned. No further 
 hindrance delayed the progress of the work. The Lo-iu 
 bridge was completed before Chhah Siang’s death, — a 
 million and half pounds of our money having been spent 
 upon it. 
 
 In 1877, when the writer spent some days in Lo-iu, 
 the monument to the memory of Chhah Siang was 
 being renovated. This must have been at or near the 
 800th anniversary of its erection. 
 
OVER THE HILLS OF FUH-K1EN. 
 
 123 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 OYER THE HILLS OF FUH-KIEN. 
 
 Hing-wha (‘ The Prosperous and Influential ’), October 17th. 
 
 So far our trip has been devoted entirely to the 
 visitation of the churches. But now an American 
 missionary brother (who came from Amoy yesterday to 
 join me) is going to travel with me into unknown parts. 
 We are first going to Foochow, as delegates from these 
 southern churches to the Methodist Episcopal Churches 
 of Foochow and district; and then we propose to go 
 over hill and dale, and decide a few geographical and 
 linguistic questions that bear directly upon the extension 
 of the Amoy missions. 
 
 The linguistic difficulties of this region are great, as 
 they are all through the south of China. North of the 
 Yang-tsze, the ‘mandarin’ or court language will serve 
 you anywhere ; but south of that river the language is 
 different at every few miles. There are considerable 
 differences between the languages of Amoy and Hui-an; 
 and half-way between Hui-an and this place, at the 
 market -town of Hong-tan, we suddenly found ourselves 
 strangers and foreigners indeed, for we could not 
 understand more than a few words, nor make the people 
 understand us. Now, for nearly three weeks, ‘ I shall 
 
124 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 be unto him that speaketh a barbarian, and he that 
 speaketh shall be a barbarian unto me/ 
 
 The scenery along the road was very beautiful. The 
 hills are lofty and abrupt, the valleys wooded and 
 dotted over with peaceful villages. We met also a few 
 horsemen on the paths, which is worth chronicling in 
 these districts. 
 
 The most notable things, however, were the graves 
 on the slopes near the road. Some of them occupy a 
 space of two hundred feet in length by sixty in width. 
 Series of well-made stone steps in long flights lead up 
 to the altar before the grave. Along either side of the 
 approach to the residence of the spirit are statues in 
 pairs, first of men, then horses, deer, tigers, standing 
 looking at one another across the intervening space. 
 The Chinese are not great sculptors, and the less said 
 of their statuary the better for the reputation of the 
 artists. 
 
 We slept in Hong-tan last night at the chapel of the 
 Foochow Episcopal Methodist mission. This is their 
 furthest station south, and less than twelve miles from 
 the furthest north of our own. The chapel is a horrible 
 den, a long shed, forty paces by six, standing on the 
 main street. 
 
 We are enjoying the hospitality of our brethren from 
 Foochow once more in this ‘Prosperous and Influential 
 City/ The pastor in charge is a remarkable man. 
 Last year he appeared at Conference with something 
 laid upon his heart. He rose and said, ‘ Brothers, I 
 must speak. I have come to the resolution that I will 
 never more receive any pay from the foreign missionary. 
 Wherever I go our people say to me, “You preach the 
 foreigners words because you eat the foreigner’s rice/’ 
 
OVER THE HILLS OF FUH-KIEN. 1 25 
 
 That reproach shall never be true in my case. I will 
 receive not another cash from our foreign pastors. I will 
 go back to Hing-wha and the churches of the district and 
 say, “Brothers, I am your Presiding Elder, it is your 
 duty to support me, so that I may do the work of the 
 Lord among you. I need but a little ; give me enough 
 to keep myself and my family.” 9 So he returned to 
 Hing-wha, and told his flock what he had done. The 
 first month or two they gave him only two or three 
 dollars, but after a short time they raised enough for 
 him to live on comfortably, with an additional sum to 
 enable him to travel about to visit the churches. The 
 following year, four pastors under this Presiding Elder 
 took the same course, and are now being wholly 
 supported by the people to whom they minister. 
 
 The chapel is a beautiful one, and quite native in its 
 style. Entering from a wide and quiet street, there is 
 a hall for week-day preaching to the heathen. Then 
 there is a good court, partly covered, where casual 
 spectators can stand to watch a religious service. Along 
 two sides of this court are rooms, occupied by the 
 families of the pastor and the chapel-keeper. The 
 chapel is on the side of the court opposite the daily 
 preaching-hall. It is railed off from the court by 
 ornamental woodwork, within which only the regular 
 congregation are admitted. In accordance with Epis- 
 copal Methodist customs, there are communion railings 
 in front of the pulpit and table. The whole arrange- 
 ments are admirably adapted to the purposes of the 
 church, and quite in accordance with Chinese notions, 
 except in one respect — the chapel, court, and hall are 
 faultlessly clean ! 
 
126 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE EV CHINA. 
 
 Gu-kkoe (‘Fish-stream’) Inn, October 18th. 
 
 From day-dawn till five o’clock in the evening we 
 have been wandering through magnificent valleys, 
 covered with rice, or climbing the hills. 
 
 To our great surprise, we are speaking the Amoy 
 language once more. The result of inquiry into this 
 phenomenon is, that the Hing-wha language is an 
 importation from Swatow or further south, and that 
 it occupies an egg-shaped piece of territory about thirty- 
 five miles from north to south, and sixty miles from east 
 to west. In Hing-wha we could not make ourselves 
 understood except with the very greatest difficulty, or 
 not at all. Here we converse freely with any one, and 
 for the last hour our lodging has been a preaching-room. 
 As I write a preacher travelling with us is sitting at my 
 elbow discussing the doctrine with three natives of the 
 town. 
 
 We reckon that for a Chinese inn we are in good 
 quarters. Try to imagine it. The floor is of earth, of 
 course perfectly black, but not as uneven as usual, and, 
 mirabile dictu ! it is swept. The roof is open to the 
 tiles, and the customary dense festooning of spiders* 
 webs is absent. The walls are perfectly black, it is true, 
 but at least they are whole. There are five sets of 
 bed-boards around the room. You would call the 
 bed-chamber a shed ; we are very grateful that we are 
 in such a clean resting-place, and that even the 
 mosquitoes do not favour a room so free from smells 
 and dirt. These five beds are to be occupied by my 
 comrade, myself, the preacher, two servants, and two 
 ba^ao'e-bearers. Our six chair-bearers fend for 
 
 03 O 
 
 themselves. 
 
OVER THE HILLS OF FUH-KIEN. 
 
 127 
 
 The Methodist Schooner Lottie, October 19th. 
 
 At half-past four this morning we had breakfasted, 
 and were upon the road. Each chair-bearer carried a 
 torch. It was a gallant procession we made in going 
 down the long street of f Fish Stream/ Rain had fallen 
 heavily during the night, and the morning air was 
 deliciously cool. We began at once to enter magnificent 
 country, equal in beauty to the best parts of Perthshire, 
 and wonderfully suggestive of the Trossachs. The 
 hills rise to upwards of 4000 feet, and the tops 
 appeared to be in many cases inaccessible. Six times 
 to-day we were looking down into a valley shaped 
 precisely like a basin. One view was particularly grand. 
 We had just climbed a long and difficult ascent heavily 
 overhung with trees, when suddenly the country was 
 clear in front for several miles. The bed of the valley 
 was perhaps a thousand feet belo'vv us. On the left was 
 a bank of hills six miles in length and three to four 
 thousand feet high, the slope of the base so regular that 
 nothing obstructed the view through its entire length. 
 A hundred shades of colour painted the scene with 
 surpassing beauty. The bed of the valley was the 
 golden yellow of the rice of the second harvest. Many 
 scores of villages, large and small, were dotted over 
 this immense field, each of them with the regulation 
 banyan trees and their lengthy shadows. The various 
 products of fields on terraces all gave their own colours 
 to the slopes to a height of a thousand feet. Then 
 came the moorland and the purple heather, and above 
 all this dream of beauty the grey and purple pile of 
 granite rock thrust itself into the clouds, gaining 
 
123 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 apparent increase of height from the fact that snowy- 
 wreaths of mist crowned their heads. 
 
 We spoke Amoyese until midday, and then the 
 dialect suddenly changed, and the natives and we were 
 strangers to one another once more. The preacher 
 with us agrees that purer Amoyese is spoken on this 
 side of Hing-wha than on its immediate southern border. 
 
 We dined at 10.30 at the city of ‘ Great Peace,’ drank 
 tea at 3.30 in the town of ‘Great Righteousness,’ where we 
 met in the street a man sent by our Foochow friends to 
 meet us. We have been running down a tributary to 
 the Min, and are now on the broad river approaching 
 Foochow. We humble denizens of the south are duly 
 appreciative of the luxury of this Gospel Boat, the Lottie. 
 
 Eng-hok (‘Everlasting Happiness’), November 2nd. 
 
 For the last twelve days we have been in Foochow 
 (‘ The Happy City ’), being very hospitably entertained 
 by one after another of the kind Christian brother- 
 hood belonging to Methodist Episcopal, Congregational 
 (American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions), 
 and the English Episcopal Church. There is a great 
 deal in the Chinese manners and civil arrangements in 
 Foochow that differs altogether from the more southern 
 parts. The people seem a sturdier race, with a more 
 decided style of speech. The city is remarkable in 
 shape. The walled portion lies in the bed of a valley 
 which has a level some six miles across, and sur- 
 rounded on three sides by high hills. Looking from 
 the foreign settlement, the walled town is not visible, 
 because of two little hills on either side of the South 
 Gate. From U-sang, one of these hills, is the best place 
 to get a bird’s-eye view of the whole. Within the 
 
OVER THE HILLS OF FUH-KIEN. 
 
 I29 
 
 walls are nearly a million inhabitants, and there are 
 about six hundred thousand outside. A street of shops 
 three miles long joins the walled city with the principal 
 suburb, and leads over the ‘ Bridge of Ten Thousand 
 Ages ’ to the hill on which are the foreign warehouses 
 and residences. 
 
 The Methodist Conference was extremely interesting. 
 A hundred pastors and preachers and twenty Americans 
 and English were present. My companion and I 
 addressed them through an interpreter. The spirit of 
 earnestness and devoutness in the whole assembly was 
 very marked. A visit like this provides a good 
 opportunity for picking up new ideas, which may find 
 expression in improved methods elsewhere. In one 
 thing our Foochow brethren are decidedly behind Amoy, 
 and that is in church psalmody. 
 
 We left the ‘Happy City’ and our esteemed and 
 hospitable friends therein yesterday at seven o’clock. 
 Two hours’ walk brought us to the Lottie, where she 
 lay awaiting us, with the Stars and Stripes flying at 
 the mainmast. The trip yesterday morning lay along 
 a stream a hundred and fifty yards wide, with high 
 wooded hills descending right to the river bank. In 
 the afternoon we arrived at the bottom of the Rapids, 
 and anchored for the night. The evening was spent in 
 hiring boats to go up the river, and the wearisome 
 haggling over cash that always accompanies transactions 
 with boatmen and chair-bearers. 
 
 This morning was bitterly cold. We put on overcoats 
 and wrapped ourselves in railway rugs, and yet could 
 not keep warm. During the day, however, it became 
 so sultry that we wore only such garments as propriety 
 demanded, and finally reached Eng-hok. 
 
 K 
 
13 ° E VER YD A Y LIFE IN CHINA . 
 
 The chapel at Eng-hok, or ‘ Everlasting Happiness/ 
 belongs to the American Congregationalists. There is 
 a native pastor resident at the chapel, and the cause 
 flourishes, notwithstanding the small amount of light, 
 the dirt, and the bad smells. The house is built upon 
 scaffolding-poles stuck into the bank of the river. The 
 room we are occupying is a loft whose glassless window 
 looks out upon the rapids of the river. As far as the 
 eye can reach the river is torn to foam, and the noise is 
 very great. 
 
 This evening we were invited to a Chinese feast. 
 The guests were nine Chinamen, two Americans, and 
 myself. Twelve basins of unsavoury-looking food 
 occupied the centre of the table. Into these we were 
 to dip with our chopsticks for anything we had a taste 
 for. The Chinese have an unpleasant habit of foraging 
 in these common bowls for tit-bits with the chop-sticks 
 which every moment they put into their mouths. I 
 skirmished among the bowls for myself and brethren, to 
 see what it was possible to eat without discomfort. I 
 was sorry to see these Christians drink far too much 
 samshoo. The wine-cup is exceedingly small, but they 
 filled it so many times that we foreigners discussed the 
 need of starting a total abstinence society in connection 
 with the churches. The Chinese are as a rule very 
 abstemious in regard to alcoholic liquors, but I have 
 noticed many times that when they can get samshoo for 
 nothing, as at a feast like this, they have no objection 
 to excessive indulgence. When we, or rather they , had 
 ‘ eaten full * of balls of pork, pieces of pork-fat floating 
 in oil, pig’s liver, chicken, cuttle-fish, oysters, vermicelli, 
 greens, beans, water-melon seeds, and several other 
 messes for which I could find no name, piled-up bowls 
 
OVER THE HILLS OF FUH-KIEN. 
 
 31 
 
 of rice were brought in, to the great satisfaction of all 
 who were getting nauseated with oil. At this stage my 
 servant was taken ill under the combined effects of 
 samshoo and pork-fat, and had to leave the table, which 
 broke through the etiquette of the party, and allowed 
 us opportunity to escape. 
 
 Siong-khau (‘ Mouth of the Hills ’), Sunday, November 5th. 
 
 We parted with our kind friends at * Everlasting 
 Happiness * on Friday morning, and have had two very 
 hard days’ travelling. The scenery is so magnificent 
 that we are getting surfeited of mountains, chasms, over- 
 hanging rocks, waterfalls, and rapids. For twenty miles 
 the river was one long series of falls, with an occasional 
 pool like a miniature lake. The rugged path lay along 
 the precipitous face of the hills by the side of the river, 
 often at a height of two hundred feet above it. Both 
 days the journey was occasionally spiced with danger. 
 No description can give any idea of the badness of 
 Chinese paths in inland and mountainous country. 
 More than once the chair-bearers lost their footing and 
 came near being precipitated into the abyss. We have 
 walked the greater part of both days because of the 
 danger of falling. For seven hours on Friday we were 
 crossing a high hill, reaching an eating-house at 5.30, 
 where we lay in the loft for the night. 
 
 Starting very early yesterday morning in a drizzling 
 rain, we wandered on till eight o’clock, when we rested 
 under some pine trees for morning worship. We were 
 quite a considerable caravan — two Americans, one 
 Englishman, the Chinchew and Eng-hok preachers, a 
 native doctor, three servants, and nine chair-bearers. It 
 was a curious sight, that ‘ early worship ’ in the wood. 
 
 K 2 
 
13 2 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 To the bearers it was, of course, utterly without meaning ; 
 but to the rest of us it was a very solemn and beautiful 
 thing to be singing the praises of God amid some of 
 His grandest works, and to be kneeling in reverent 
 worship on the soft carpet of the pine-needles, while 
 the onlv sound was the low sobbing of the wind through 
 the pine trees, and the splash of the waves in the river 
 half a mile below us. 
 
 The journey on Saturday was much the same as on 
 Friday. We crossed the river in a very old punt full 
 of holes, through which the water rushed when any of 
 its freight of eighteen persons moved about so as to 
 sway the boat. We were thankful to cross the broad 
 deep pool in safety. 
 
 It is raining hard, as it did yesterday. What shall 
 we do if it continues ? We are willing prisoners here 
 for this Sabbath, but the prospect of being detained 
 long is not pleasant. The next three days’ journey is 
 through more difficult country, and quite impassable in 
 the wet. 
 
 We are very glad of this Sunday’s rest. We Amoyese 
 also found some work to do. Several natives of Amoy 
 came to look at the foreigners, and the result has been 
 a long and very interesting talk with them about the 
 concerns of the soul. Preaching has been going on all 
 day in a language not understood of Amoyites. The 
 chapel has been open eight years, but there is only 
 one convert, an opium-smoker for thirty years (!). He 
 kept an opium den, but on his conversion gave up both 
 the b^bit and the trade. 
 
 About twelve o’clock we were getting very fagged 
 with tramping along in the wet upon such terribly 
 uneven paths, when we entered what looked like a little 
 
OVER THE HILLS OF FUH-KIEN. 
 
 33 
 
 grove of banyan and bamboo. There was an inn, the front 
 of which was completely shaded by the dense foliage 
 above and around, standing on the right of an open 
 space among the trees. We entered the house, and 
 found it absolutely devoid of furniture. The large guest- 
 room, of which we straightway took possession, would 
 have comfortably seated a hundred and fifty persons to 
 table in European fashion, but it was quite empty. 
 Even the fixtures seemed to have been dragged away, 
 and a stationary stove was in a ruinous condition. Nor 
 were there any occupants apparently. There was one 
 decrepit beggar, as we thought him, engaged in stirring 
 his opium preparatory to smoking it. We took him for 
 a visitor like ourselves ; but he proved to be the tenant 
 and the owner of this large and handsome property. 
 It is certainly one of the finest private inns I have seen, 
 and the guest-room looks out upon a scene of surpassing 
 beauty. From the window opposite the entrance-door 
 one gets a glimpse of the steep wooded hills to right 
 and left. The rocky bed of the river is sixty feet 
 below the window, and the water rushes along quarrelling 
 with the stones. Not a square foot of the ground of 
 the precipitous hill opposite is visible. A dense garment 
 of many shades of green covers it from water’s 
 edge to summit. Even on a wet and weary day like 
 this the scene is a dream of loveliness, and perhaps the 
 faint haze of the fine drizzle as it tones down the whole, 
 and the clouds that cover some of the hills, add to the 
 dreaminess and sense of unreality of the whole. 
 
 Yet behind us, as we turn, is moral ruin indeed. 
 ‘Every prospect pleases, and only man is vile/ This 
 poor bundle of rags declines to take any notice of us. 
 He keeps on stirring the vile and mischievous drug that 
 
134 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 has brought ruin upon himself and his house. One 
 cannot help speculating about him. Did he have 
 wife and family here ? Could he employ ten servants 
 to help him in this business ? What was he like when 
 he was a man, and not a wretched heap of rags ; full 
 of energy and intelligence, and not an opium-smoker ? 
 
 You don’t know how this horrible vice meets us 
 day by day, how it points the sarcasms and insults 
 levelled at the foreigner, and how it dishonours the 
 name of Christ in disgracing the Christianity we profess 
 as our national faith. 
 
 Some well-known authorities have declared that in 
 this province half of the male adults, that is, ten per 
 cent, of the population, are opium-smokers. I believe 
 this to be a very moderate estimate ; for though some 
 districts are almost free from the vice, others are 
 being ruined by it. This province did not produce 
 opium in appreciable quantities until about the year. 
 1870, but now the home-growth seems likely to be 
 fostered everywhere. 
 
 Naturally, one does not get many opportunities of 
 witnessing opium-smoking in private houses, but it is 
 very common in the inns, and a great nuisance too, 
 for the smell of the fumes is very vile and sickening. 
 I was in a large inn a few weeks ago, much like a 
 caravanserai. The building was very long, and the 
 sleeping-cabins opened out of the main hall down both 
 sides. I had occasion to go up and down this room or 
 corridor a number of times, and observed elegantly- 
 dressed men in almost every chamber smoking opium. 
 In some of the rooms there were two or three men 
 lying on the beds side by side, smoking. The preachers 
 tell me that in private houses it is now so far a 
 
OVER THE HILLS OF FUH-KIEN. 135 
 
 recognized thing that the opium-pipe is offered to a 
 guest as much as a cup of tea used to be. 
 
 Yet everybody knows what a destructive and immoral 
 thing the use of opium is. The defenders of the opium 
 trade (who, by the way, are almost all haters of Christian 
 missions and missionaries) declare that our protest is an 
 unjustifiable ‘fad/ I am not careful to answer them. 
 
 I care only to tell you just what my eyes have seen and 
 my ears have heard from the people themselves. It goes 
 without saying that all missionaries and medical men in 
 China hold our views. But you have to remember also 
 that the native magistrates go through the form of 
 issuing proclamations against it, — that the heathen 
 themselves are forming leagues for opposing the habit 
 and the trade, — that benevolent societies of Confucianists 
 and Buddhists issue and distribute a great deal of 
 literature in condemnation of opium, — and that its use 
 is always included in the list of vices, being mentioned 
 in company with adultery, theft, and murder. 
 
 No Chinaman is ever heard to justify the habit, 
 unless he is some dissolute fellow connected with the 
 trade. Nine out of every ten persons addicted to the 
 pipe will tell you that they do wickedly in using the 
 * Foreign Dirt,’ as they call it. So far from its being 
 defended by our friends here in Fuh-kien, they have 
 many sayings and phrases, which will become proverbs 
 and household words, expressing their sense of the 
 enormity of the evil into which they have fallen as 
 into a snare. 
 
 Nobody, native or foreign, will have confidence in a 
 man who is known to be seriously addicted to its use. 
 An opium-smoker would find it hard to get employment 
 as a servant, a clerk, or a shopman. Even when 
 
EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 136 
 
 engaging chair-bearers one is obliged to look at them — 
 and shall I say, smell them ? — to calculate whether they 
 shek-in (eat smoke). Many men have come upon the 
 roads as bearers of burdens and chairs simply through 
 the ruin brought on them by the opium habit. To hire 
 bearers and then to find them smokers is a great 
 inconvenience, because they need so much rest in order 
 to smoke, and indeed cannot do their work at all unless 
 they have their narcotic at regular intervals. The 
 labourer who smokes regularly must break off work 
 to take his pipe, or no more work will be done. An 
 opium-smoking teacher soon reveals his weakness by 
 gaping and yawning and falling asleep over his book. 
 He must have his pipe to revive him. In our 
 neighbourhood so many ‘literary' men are given to 
 the use of the drug that it is difficult to find one who is 
 free from this terrible bondage. 
 
 Of course no Protestant Christians are opium- 
 smokers. They would never be received into the 
 Christian Church unless they had given up all connec- 
 tion both with its use and sale. It is one of the things 
 the Chinese Christians complain of, — not because the 
 principle is wrong, but because there are English 
 merchants engaged in the traffic who attend the 
 services at English churches, and are not refused the 
 Lord’s Supper. Missionaries have no option but to 
 decline to receive natives into the church until they 
 have given up every form of complicity with this 
 miserable vice. Any other course would be destructive 
 of order and morality in the church. A Christian who 
 becomes a smoker is at once disciplined, and must 
 give up the pipe or give up his membership. Not 
 only the conscience of the church, but the conscience 
 
OVER THE HILLS OF FUH-KI EH 137 
 
 of the nation, declares the thing to be unjustifiable, 
 mischievous, and immoral. 
 
 Dr. Osgood of Foochow, who has come so far on our 
 journey with us, has a special department in his hos- 
 pital for opium patients. I wish that every person 
 who imagines opium to be a harmless luxury could go 
 in there for an hour or so, and hear from the lips of 
 patients and doctor by what frightful agonies of body 
 and mind these poor victims of the pipe are brought 
 back to health, happiness, and freedom. Having looked 
 on this scene in the hospital, I would then lead our 
 enchanted friends to further disenchantment by con- 
 ducting them to the nearest opium den, and show them 
 the black and unwholesome Inferno which is a sample 
 of the dens in which many hundreds of thousands daily 
 narcotize themselves and waste their substance. Per- 
 haps the two visions might convince them that we 
 missionaries are right after all. No pictorial descrip- 
 tion can represent the real horror of it in too vivid 
 colours. The thing itself is always worse than our 
 words make it. Happiness destroyed, families scat- 
 tered, homes ruined, health utterly and hopelessly gone, 
 moral deterioration, lost reputation, and the death and 
 burial of a beggar, is in a vast proportion of cases the 
 regular order of results. The physical effects do not 
 tell so disastrously upon the rich man as upon the 
 poor. Better living in every respect helps the rich to 
 escape many of its evils, but the poor man drains his 
 slender pouch of cash for opium, and then has little 
 or nothing left to pay for his rice. The poor man, 
 consequently, suffers much more than the rich. 
 
 Do you wonder that this opium business lies right 
 athwart the path of the missionary ? It is the gravest 
 
I3 8 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 difficulty he has to contend with, next to the ‘ fleshly 
 heart ’ of the ‘ natural man.’ If England were to wash 
 her hands of this thing (I will not say, make some atone- 
 ment for her crime !) and say, ‘ Henceforth the British 
 Government in India will have nothing whatever to do 
 with this opium trade, and, seeing that China is producing 
 more than enough to supply the medicinal demand for 
 the drug, no English subject shall be allowed to import 
 any opium into China/ it would be the best day for 
 China, aye, and the best day for the English con- 
 science, morals, influence, and commerce, that we have 
 seen for many years. It will be a blessed day for 
 the England that we love when she can accept the 
 principle she likes to talk about, but refuses to adopt, 
 that ‘ nothing can be politically wise and safe that is 
 not morally right/ In other words, as our anti-opium 
 friends quote from the Proverbs, that ‘ righteousness 
 exalteth a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people/ 
 
 Kwai-tswa (‘The High Path’), Tuesday, November 7th. 
 
 Two more days of climbing hills and of descending 
 apparently into the bowels of the earth have brought 
 us to the highest part of our journey. The weather 
 has been fine, and we have got along happily. In the 
 evening we reached the first village we had seen during 
 the day, though there are a few cottages of farmers and 
 charcoal-burners here and there. It is called ‘ Water’s 
 Mouth/ and the inn, ‘The Fountain of Abundance.’ 
 That it is not an extensive place may be judged from the 
 fact that the main street is only twenty-four paces long. 
 I counted just forty houses. The inn was little better 
 than a roomy coal-cellar. My chamber (for I had one 
 to myself) was formed by digging out the earth from 
 
OVER THE HILLS OF FUH-KIEN. 139 
 
 the hill-side to make one wall, and a hoarding of wood 
 for the other three sides. Rice was growing in the 
 floor to a height of eighteen inches just against my 
 head. We are far up in the hills, and the nights are 
 very cold. 
 
 We have settled one important question that led us 
 on this journey. We had resolved that, if possible, we 
 would decide the limits of the Amoy language in a 
 direction due north of Amoy. We discovered that the 
 frontier line between the languages of Foochow and 
 Amoy is a high range of hills which we crossed 
 yesterday about midday. On the north side we were 
 in a strange land, on the south we were quite at 
 home with the people. This carries the limits of our 
 evangelistic efforts in one language to a point two 
 days’ journey further north than we were aware, and 
 expands what is known as the Amoy district to that 
 degree. 
 
 In the hoar-frost of this morning we left ‘Waters 
 Mouth/ climbed the highest hill on our trip, and reached 
 * The High Path ’ at two p.m. We have gone no further 
 because there is not another inn for a good many miles, 
 and the bearers are worn out with climbing, though my 
 friend and I walk almost all day. 
 
 The natives of this village say they have seen three 
 foreigners before, but that we are the first who ever 
 spoke to them in their own language. We spent the 
 afternoon in trying to interest little groups of persons 
 in our message, but it seems utterly incomprehensible 
 to them. Dwellers in England do not realize how 
 utterly outside a heathen’s imagination the Gospel 
 message is. You need to have the missionary’s experi- 
 ence, and to see how hard and unmeaning the heathen’s 
 
140 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 face becomes when you explain that it is his moral nature 
 and his soul you are trying to benefit. He is too polite 
 to laugh at you, but he thinks you a little worse than 
 crazy when he hears the Gospel for the first time. It 
 recalls Jean Ingelow’s lines in A Story of Doom, where 
 she speaks of the contempt in Noah’s day heaped upon 
 
 ‘ Those who work for a world (no wages paid 
 By a Master hid in light), and sent alone 
 To face a laughing multitude, whose eyes 
 Are full of damaging pity, that forbears 
 To tell the harmless labourer, “ Thou art mad ! ” ’ 
 
 That is the way in which the message from God is 
 still received. ‘The natural man receiveth not the 
 things of the Spirit of God : for they are foolishness 
 unto him : neither can he know them, because they are 
 spiritually discerned.’ 
 
 Tek-wha (‘ Upright and Influential’), November 8th. 
 
 The den called ‘The Nourishment of Life ’ at Kwai- 
 tswa did not present sufficient attractions to induce us 
 to stay much after dawn. There was hoar-frost on the 
 ground. Over hill and dale brought us in the afternoon 
 to this city with its self-laudatory name. 
 
 It is the most extensive manufactory of china in the 
 Fuh-kien province. The valley is broad, and dotted over 
 a considerable area with very pretty houses, in many 
 cases resembling Swiss chalets. The buildings seem 
 
 laro-e because there are four houses to the block. 
 
 © 
 
 Pottery, pottery everywhere, in the fields, in the streets, 
 in the shops. In the open air children are painting the 
 cups. Each artist paints with his own colour, or his own 
 few strokes, whether a leaf, a tree, a man’s dress or beard, 
 and passes it over to his neighbour, who in turn applies 
 his brush to paint what is his share in the decoration. 
 
OVER THE HILLS OF FUH-KIEN. 
 
 141 
 
 The Episcopal Methodists of America and the 
 Established Church of England both have chapels 
 here. First we visited the Methodists, then went to 
 the * Ang-li-kan * church. The latter was so much 
 roomier that we asked leave to stay the night. The 
 people were much interested in our arrival, and came 
 in large numbers to hear us speak in their own 
 language. I have seldom received a more courteous 
 and cordial welcome than from these artists in earthen- 
 ware at Tek-wha. 
 
 Eng-chhun (‘ Everlasting Spring’), November 9th. 
 
 The words ‘ There everlasting spring abides ’ were 
 not written by Dr. Watts of this city. The room in 
 which I am to sleep has no window. Everything is 
 perfectly black, — floor, roof, walls, bed-boards, mosquito- 
 net, table, chair, — while the next room is a fold for 
 goats, thick with ordure, and the spaces between the 
 boards of the thin partition that separate me from my 
 four-footed fellow-lodgers allow the sounds and scents 
 to pass freely from them to me. 
 
 We were coming down-hill a great part of the 
 afternoon, and find the temperature much milder in 
 ‘ Everlasting Spring.’ 
 
 ‘ Market-on-top-of-the-Embankment,’ November 11th. 
 
 At Eng-chhun we dismissed the chair-bearers, who 
 have been with us these last eight days. We engaged 
 them in Foochow on an agreement duly attested by 
 some civic potentate, and they have wandered over hill 
 and dale with us, carrying us when we chose to ride. 
 Now they have to return with the empty chairs; but 
 they intend to travel via Hing-wha upon the frequented 
 road by which we ourselves went to Foochow. They 
 
142 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 have not been of much service, and have grumbled a 
 good deal at the long stages between the rice-shops. 
 
 That reminds me of the difficulty one has in 
 travelling inland to find out from the natives of a 
 place what is the approximate distance to the next 
 stage. The information supplied may be correct once 
 in ten times. The mistakes made by our informants 
 have been a constant jest with the chair-bearers and all 
 of us. Two incidents in yesterday’s journey may be 
 taken as samples of all. I asked an intelligent-looking 
 man, whom we met on the road, whether there were any 
 hills to cross up to the place from which he surely must 
 have come. He replied, * No, none at all; altogether 
 level.’ It proved to be as hard and wearisome a bit of 
 climbing up and down as we have had on the trip. The 
 last hill must have been a descent of upwards of 2500 feet, 
 for we were coming down the greater part of the day ; 
 and much of the road was merely a watercourse, stones 
 lying in all directions as they had been hurled by the 
 freshets of ages. Again, yesterday morning, we asked 
 how far it was to a certain place. ‘ A pau ’ 1 was the 
 reply. Now, we do a pau in an hour; but we plodded 
 on for two hours and a quarter, and then again asked 
 the distance. ‘A pau and a half’ this time. It is 
 almost always so. The Chinese have no exact notions 
 as to either time or space ; it is only in money values that 
 they incline to absolute mathematical accuracy. ‘ A pau 
 and a half’ has passed with us into a proverb and a jest. 
 
 We left ‘Eternal Spring’ yesterday morning at an 
 early hour, did the rough travelling spoken of above, 
 
 1 A pau is commonly translated in English a league. There are ten 
 li (the Chinese unit of distance) to the pau , the li being one-third of a 
 mile. 
 
OVER THE HILLS OF FUH-KIEN. 1 43 
 
 and reached the village of ‘ River’s Mouth ’ at a quarter 
 past six in the evening. After ten a.m. there was not 
 a rice-shop the whole way. You may imagine in what 
 a state of exhaustion from fatigue and hunger we 
 arrived at our lodging for the night. 
 
 This morning we took passage in a boat, and had 
 two hours’ run down the rapids. This is a mode of 
 travelling which is always sufficiently exciting in itself; 
 but to-day’s trip had the further spice of danger arising 
 from the overcrowded state of the broad, flat-bottomed 
 boat. To earn an extra cash or two, a boatman would 
 not hesitate to trust twenty lives to the special care of 
 what may, in his mind, correspond with Providence. 
 ‘There is an appointed fate for all/ would be his pious 
 and philosophical remark, as he saw the water reach 
 to within four inches of the top of the gunwale. We 
 were twenty-seven persons in all, and the remainder 
 of the boat’s freight was half a ton of crockery, three 
 sedan-chairs, our baggage, and a considerable quantity 
 of luggage belonging to the Chinese. At the first water- 
 slide we grated ominouslyon the rocks. At the second 
 we came to a sudden standstill. Fortunately this was 
 a very small incline, or otherwise we should have been 
 spilled upon the rushing water, to find our way to the 
 bank or to the bottom as the * appointed fate ’ of each 
 would have it. By the aid of a small boat eight men 
 (say, fifteen hundred-weight of the ship’s burden) were 
 put ashore before we slipped off the rock. We were 
 about five miles from our river journey’s end at the 
 time this accident occurred, but the fortunate and 
 facetious occupants of the boat mirthfully declined the 
 importunate entreaties of the dislodged fares, who wanted 
 to be taken on board again when we got afloat. A 
 
 o o 
 
M4 
 
 E VER YD A Y LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 running fire of jests, threats, and blasphemy was kept 
 up between the Chinese passengers on the river and 
 the would-be passengers as they ran for a mile or so on 
 the paddy fields and towing-path. 
 
 We have at last touched the Amoy missionary area 
 once more, after twenty-five days of absence, during 
 which we have seen many strange sights, — had much 
 pleasant intercourse with fellow-Christians, Chinese and 
 foreign, — conversed with great numbers of people about 
 the Christian faith, — made notes of the methods of 
 our Foochow brethren belonging to three missionary 
 societies, — and decided the limits of the Amoy language 
 to the north-east and north. On the third day from 
 now we shall reach home, all being well. 
 
 Sunday night, November 12th. 
 
 This chapel at Pwa-tau-chhi is a preaching station 
 only of the American Reformed Church. No members 
 have yet been gathered in. We have had crowded 
 audiences three times to-day. Our plan has been to 
 deliver brief and pointed addresses, relieved by the 
 singing of a verse or two of a hymn. No prayer in the 
 presence of such a heathen audience, because the 
 mystery of prayer alarms the timid and superstitious, 
 and the congregation is apt to disperse more rapidly 
 than it can be collected. Many persons seemed to be 
 much interested in a genial and brotherly fashion, not 
 at all in a state of concern for their salvation. Some 
 stopped behind for a chat, and this evening others have 
 been learning the hymns by heart. At such a time we 
 teach them those hymns that are really summaries of 
 Christian doctrine rather than those that express the 
 hopes of the regenerate. In this way our hymnology is a 
 very great help in conveying the knowledge of the truth. 
 
FENG-SHUI : THE BIGGEST OF ALL BUGBEARS. 145 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FENG-SHUI : THE BIGGEST OF ALL BUGBEARS. 
 
 So far as we have been able to discover, only one 
 short treatise and one magazine article have ever been 
 written in the English language on this most widespread, 
 and perhaps most enthralling, of all the varied 
 superstitions that afflict the human race, and hinder the 
 progress of the Chinese nation in particular. We may 
 be pardoned, therefore, for presuming that our readers 
 know very little about the subject, and shall deal with 
 it in its popular and general aspects and results, and 
 say only a few words about its philosophy. 
 
 For the doctrine from which it grows is exceedingly 
 abstruse, like all forms of Chinese philosophy. There 
 is a very considerable native literature to explain its 
 principles and to guide its professors ; but if any one 
 wishes to see to what a howling wilderness of erratic 
 dogmatism the human mind can arrive, when speculation 
 usurps the place of science, and theories are reverenced 
 equally with facts, let him endeavour to fathom even 
 the elementary principles of that abyss of insane vagaries, 
 the science of Feng-Shui. Dr. Eitel, in his pamphlet 
 on the subject, calls Feng-Shui ‘the terrestrial sister of 
 astrology/ There is little doubt that it is a fungus 
 
 L 
 
14 ^ E VER YD A Y LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 growth upon more intelligent systems of superstition, 
 such as astrology and necromancy, and has grown until 
 it has overshadowed those pseudo-sciences from which 
 it sprung. It is difficult to discuss and attack its 
 dogmas seriatim , because so few of them are formally 
 stated, and so few ‘Feng-Shui doctors’ have clearly- 
 defined views on the subject. We can only wait until 
 Christian truths and the gospel of a sound philosophy 
 shall lay the axe at the foot of this deeply-rooted tree 
 of superstition, and level it with all its branches of 
 folly and fear. 
 
 The words Feng and Shui mean wind and water. 
 Wind stands for that which cannot be seen, water for 
 that which cannot be grasped. Feng-Shui, therefore, 
 indicates a philosophy which the human mind finds it 
 very difficult to comprehend, but is believed by the 
 Chinese to be no less real on that account ; and the 
 duplicate word represents, as we shall presently see, 
 the aggregate of the intangible, occult, ill-defined, but 
 all-powerful spirit influences that affect the fortunes and 
 destinies of maDkind. 
 
 Feng-Shui is always spoken of in connection with 
 graves or funeral ceremonies. A man speaks of the graves 
 of his relatives or ancestors as their Feng-Shui. A grave 
 in a good position, or a piece of land highly suitable for 
 a grave or cemetery, is called ‘good Feng-Shui.’ To 
 interfere with a grave is to ‘disturb the Feng-Shui.’ 
 
 And this for the following reasons. The theory 
 involves a belief that the world is crowded with 
 malignant powers and influences, which must be 
 regulated and controlled in order that human beings 
 may live in peace. These pernicious influences arise 
 from the irritation of the spirits of the dead at the 
 
FENG-SHUI: THE BIGGEST OF ALL BUGBEARS . 1 4 7 
 
 discomfort in which they find themselves, if the bodies 
 of the deceased have not been placed in a suitable 
 position ; and their equanimity can only be restored and 
 maintained, and their good-will secured, by attention to 
 certain necessary arrangements of the grave in which 
 their mortal remains are deposited. The Chinese have 
 so poor an opinion of the character of the ghosts of 
 their fathers as to believe they will be visited by them 
 with distresses innumerable for sins of neglect of the 
 dead. The unquiet spirit of the King of Denmark burst 
 his cerements and ‘ revisited the glimpses of the moon, 
 making night hideous/ because of violence done to him 
 as a living man ; the perturbed spirits of the Chinese 
 dead, on the other hand, break the sepulchre in which 
 they were ‘quietly inurned’ because the position of 
 their ‘canonized bones ’ is not favourable to repose. 
 Should a disembodied spirit find himself cut off from 
 light and air, ‘cribbed, cabined, and confined’ in a 
 locality which renders him ill at ease, it is supposed he 
 will not scruple to take vengeance on his posterity for 
 their inattention by destroying their fortunes and 
 happiness. Nay, so little conscience have these shadows 
 of their former selves, that they will destroy the moral 
 character as well as the good success of their descendants. 
 Morality, as well as worldly prosperity, is mysteriously 
 affected by the tenants of the grave. 
 
 To insure oneself against misfortune, then, the 
 graves of relatives and ancestors must be so placed that 
 their occupants shall not only be perfectly satisfied, but- 
 overflowing with good-will towards their friends still in 
 the flesh. To find this happy position is the occult, 
 and sometimes (when the practitioner has gained a 
 reputation for skill) lucrative, profession of the doctor of 
 
148 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 Feng-Shui. Every site for a grave is chosen by its rules- 
 The standard regulation is that the grave must be upon 
 a hill-side facing the south, and that there be a sheet of 
 water or a plain between it and the horizon. But this 
 rule is so much affected by other circumstances that 
 the exceptions are numberless. None but the profound 
 student who has the key to all the ugly tricks Dame 
 Nature plays on suffering humanity, can see the way 
 perfectly to baffle her, and win prosperity and ease by 
 the fortunate arrangement of a tomb. 
 
 In deciding that a southerly aspect is the most 
 favourable for this purpose, the Chinese mind seems to 
 have been influenced by observation of certain facts in 
 the natural world. The gentle zephyrs of the spring 
 blow softly from the south, bestowing life and beauty 
 on the fields and fruit trees ; and from the same 
 direction come the health-giving breezes of summer, 
 subduing the scorching heat of the sun, and carrying on 
 their wings the frequent rain-clouds which distil their 
 fertilizing showers on the thirsty soil. But the cutting 
 winds of autumn, the harbingers of decay and death 
 in the fields, and the source of much suffering and 
 sickness to the scantily-clad and poorly-housed denizens 
 of the Flowery Land, who know nothing of the comforts 
 of a social fire-hearth and well-fitting windows — these 
 wintry blasts blow keenly from the north. Moreover, 
 pestilence does not stalk through the crowded towns 
 and villages if the south wind fans them steadily in 
 summer ; but if at that season the wind blows fiercely 
 from the north, it is often the herald of a disastrous 
 typhoon, which scatters ruin and death over large areas 
 of the land. The southerly and northerly directions 
 thus become symbolical of prosperous and adverse 
 
FENG-SHUI: THE BIGGEST OF ALL BUGBEARS . 1 49 
 
 influences, and from this it is but a step to the belief 
 that in the spirit world (which to the Chinese mind is 
 the analogue of the material world) there exist similar 
 currents — that from the north bringing every species of 
 ill-luck, and that from the south prosperity. 
 
 Fortunately for the human race, it is possible to 
 counteract the mischievous effects of the malignant 
 forces of Nature, by turning aside the unpropitious 
 currents, and by attracting and directing those that 
 breathe only balm and peace. As the present is not 
 a scientific treatise on this astounding delusion, but a 
 popular view of it as witnessed every day, we will 
 simply say that everything in a landscape sharp and 
 abrupt is believed to be hurtful in its tendencies. 
 Jagged lines, broken ridges, all those features that we 
 might poetically phrase as angry, sullen, frowning 
 rocks, or savage scenery, — these clearly threaten dis- 
 aster. But gently undulating hills, smiling plateaus, 
 smoothly-flowing streams, and mirror-like ponds, — 
 these are hostages of Nature as to her peaceful 
 intentions. Again, long straight lines are greatly 
 dreaded, especially if they converge upon a grave, lest 
 noxious currents should gather force by the directness 
 of their course, and hurry forwards with increased 
 momentum to the work of destruction. The making of 
 roads and railway lines, therefore, could only be attended 
 with fatal results to myriads. To be prosperously 
 inclined, the landscape must have its rough points 
 rounded off, and its roads gently curved. 
 
 Our readers are familiar with the pictures of Chinese 
 pagodas, but probably are not aware that the sole 
 object of most of them, and the sole object of every 
 pagoda in many large districts in China, is to nullify 
 
150 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 the destructive forces of bad Feng-Shui, or to collect 
 and concentrate the propitious streams of spirit influence 
 on some particular town, stream, or plain. In the 
 neighbourhood of Canton the greater number of the 
 towers that dot the landscape are narrow monuments, 
 of the same diameter from the top of the wall to the 
 foundation, and with a high, pointed roof. These are 
 shaped like a Chinese camel’s-hair brush, and are 
 erected to the memory of some eminent scholar. Such 
 pagodas are believed capable of attracting portions of 
 the propitious currents in such a way as to result in an 
 increase of intelligence in the population. But others 
 have a more general purpose. There is hardly a large 
 town but has one or more lofty pagodas in or near it 
 for its protection, and this is called that particular town’s 
 Feng-Shui. Thus, close to Amoy there is an island at 
 the entrance to the river which leads to the great city 
 of Changchow, thirty miles distant, on which is a 
 stumpy and dilapidated tower, called ‘ the Changchow 
 Feng-Shui.’ It is supposed that this unsightly pagoda 
 is able to deflect any mischievous spirit-influences which, 
 but for its presence, might stream up the river and 
 overthrow the reputation and commerce of Changchow* 
 The hopes of the inhabitants depend on the stability of 
 that tower thirty miles off ; it is a pity it seems likely 
 soon to crumble to dust. Sometimes the faith of the 
 people is placed in objects even more ungainly. On 
 the shore of the island of Kolongsoo (the residence of 
 Europeans at Amoy) is a mass of rock some twenty-five 
 feet high, called one of the ‘ anchors ’ of Amoy. The 
 Amoyese believe that when that rock falls the fortunes 
 of the city will fall with it, and as its base has been 
 much worn by the action of the sea, it is abundantly 
 
FENG-SHUI: THE BIGGEST OF ALL BUGBEARS. 1 5 I 
 
 propped up by large blocks of stone piled at its 
 foot. 
 
 The professors of Feng-Shui are always the parties 
 to decide on the site for a pagoda ; and similarly, they 
 will sometimes order a wall to be built as a shield or 
 screen to protect a house or public building from 
 malign influences. Of course such a wall shuts off also 
 those currents that are only beneficent ; but the owner 
 of the house must take liis chance of that. In front 
 of joss-houses and the residences of mandarins a screen 
 is often raised in this way, and upon it figure quaint 
 diagrams, ferocious-looking beasts, and some written 
 characters which bid defiance and breathe eternal 
 hostility to the invisible enemy. A curious instance of 
 this screen-making occurred in connection with one of the 
 London Mission chapels near Amoy, as we have related 
 more at length in another part of this book. A mob 
 had destroyed the building before it was finished, on the 
 pretext that it would disturb their Feng-Shui. Through 
 the efforts of the British Consul the mandarins were 
 compelled to raise the money to rebuild the chapel; 
 but, to prevent any harm being done to the town by its 
 objectionable presence, a wall, on which were painted 
 dragons and tigers, was put up opposite the chapel door, 
 and so the Feng-Shui of the town was preserved. 
 
 It will be readily seen that as Feng-Shui has to be 
 regulated, so it can be most unfortunately disturbed, 
 and bring utter ruin to multitudes who have placed 
 houses or graves in the position where the best harvest 
 of good luck may be reaped. The making of a path or 
 building of a house is not, therefore, a matter in which 
 the workman or his employer alone is concerned. Every 
 one who lives within sight of it, and every spirit whose 
 
152 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 banes repose in a grave near it, is intensely interested 
 in the questions where and in what style that house or 
 road is going to be made. It will suggest itself at once 
 to the reader that if we ignorant European outsiders 
 were to live where we choose in China, to build as we 
 like, to make roads and railways, to erect telegraph 
 posts, to quarry stone wherever we saw any to our 
 fancy, to delve recklessly into the bowels of the earth 
 for coal, we should, in the opinion of the Chinese, be 
 like c a maniac scattering dust’ and ‘a fury slinging 
 flame.’ We should put steeples to our churches and tall 
 chimneys to our factories, and in so doing commit the 
 unpardonable crime of upsetting the serenity of the 
 spirit- world. No vengeance would be too dire to 
 
 execute upon the rash mortal who could disregard the 
 interests of his fellow-creatures in such a manner. 
 No pastime is more dangerous than that of making 
 innovations called improvements, and the collective 
 wrath of multitudes must fall on the man who should 
 attempt it. 
 
 The long and harassing troubles of the Episcopal 
 Church Mission in Foochow a few years ago all arose 
 from the fact that the missionaries wished to build an 
 extra dwelling-house on a hill in the town, and the 
 people maintained that their Feng-Shui would be 
 destroyed. The city was nearly ruined in 1876 by a 
 series of catastrophes, a typhoon, two floods which 
 covered the town to a depth of six feet, in one of which 
 the ancient ‘ Bridge of Ten Thousand Ages ’ was partly 
 destroyed, and a conflagration which swept away 
 2000 houses. The whole of these misfortunes were 
 attributed to the fact that the missionaries had in their 
 minds the intention to build the house ! The opposition 
 
FENG-SHUI: THE BIGGEST OF ALL BUGBEARS. 1 53 
 
 to the line of telegraph from Foochow to Amoy was 
 placed on the same ground, that the Feng-Shui of 
 the whole route would be deflected and thrown into 
 confusion ; and the Chinese triumphed ; the posts 
 could not be put up. One of the most striking illus- 
 trations of this kind of fear which we have ever seen 
 is in Amoy. The whole neighbourhood is a wilderness 
 of granite rocks. Enormous boulders are scattered in 
 every direction on hill and plain. The ‘Valley of the 
 Ten Thousand Rocks’ at the side of the town led an 
 English sea-captain to say that ‘ Amoy must have been 
 the last place created, and all the surplus stones were 
 shot there.’ Yet the natives rarely cut these rocks, of 
 which it would be a kindness to relieve the fields and 
 hill-sides, but go by sea to the * Cutstone Village,’ three 
 miles distant, where the Feng-Shui doctors have declared 
 it may be quarried with impunity. 
 
 Every resident in China has heard of that short-lived 
 child of civilization, the Shanghai railway, but few know 
 that Feng-Shui, professedly at least, had much to do 
 with its being throttled so soon after its birth. In 1875 
 an American company completed the purchase of land 
 for constructing a line of railway, nine miles in length, 
 from Shanghai to the small town of Woosung, at the 
 mouth of the river on which Shanghai is situated. 
 This was done in contravention of treaty engagements, 
 as the Chinese pleaded, with some show of justice, but 
 the enterprising capitalists had only the ultimate 
 advantage of China in view. It was believed that in a 
 couptry so vast, where communication even between 
 places near together is difficult, and is only kept up at 
 a wasteful expenditure of human labour, the formation 
 of a short line of railway might prove to be a means of 
 
154 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 exciting wealthy native merchants, if not the ruling 
 classes themselves, to endeavour to extend the blessing 
 of easy and rapid travelling throughout the great 
 centres of population. At first it was proposed to 
 present the whole line and plant to the Chinese 
 Government as a gift, but this intention was not 
 carried out, through fear that too many of the mandarins 
 were hostile to its existence. It was thought there 
 would be a better chance of its survival if the Govern- 
 ment paid for it, than if they received it gratis. 
 Accordingly, it was sold to the Chinese at a moderate 
 price ; but no sooner did they get the line into their own 
 hands than it was destroyed, and the engines and 
 carriages were shipped over to Formosa (with the 
 professed intention of trying the railway scheme in 
 that island), where they long lay half- buried in the 
 sands of the seashore. Almost the whole opposition to 
 it was laid at the door of Feng-Shui, though there is 
 plenty of evidence that other motives were in the 
 background. 
 
 Occasionally, Feng-Shui has played into the hands of 
 foreigners to their profit. We have not before us the 
 exact statement of facts with regard to the following 
 story, but it is approximately correct. Some few years 
 ago a German Mission had a station in the centre of 
 Canton province, and a wealthy miller had built himself 
 a very solid and lofty granary in the same place. The 
 mission church 'prospered but little, for want of space in 
 their miserable hut, and the merchant’s business began 
 to fail directly his warehouse was completed, because its 
 Feng-Shui was bad. The granary was offered for sale 
 at a ridiculously low price, since no one would be so 
 rash as to pay a heavy sum for a building in so 
 
FENG-SHUI: THE BIGGEST OF ALL BUGBEARS . 155 
 
 unfortunate a position, and to take it down and rebuild 
 it would cost more than it was worth. But the 
 missionaries purchased it at once, occupied the ground 
 floor for a chapel, the first floor as school-room, the 
 second floor as apartments for preacher and chapel- 
 keepers, and the third floor was reserved as accom- 
 modation for missionaries on their occasional visits. It 
 is needless to say the church has prospered greatly since, 
 notwithstanding the bad Feng-Shui. 
 
 This superstition has developed a very curious custom 
 in China of disinterring the bones of the dead. In 
 every part of the land, but especially in the Fuh-kien 
 province, jars about twenty inches deep are constantly 
 seen grouped under the shadow of a rock. These jars 
 contain bones which have been dug up from the grave 
 because some calamity has befallen the family of the 
 deceased, and in this way proved the Feng-Shui of 
 the grave to be bad. The jars and their contents 
 (disrespectfully called by foreigners ‘ potted Chinaman/ 
 but by themselves ‘ yellow gold ’) remain above ground 
 often for a long course of years, till the professor of 
 Feng-Shui has decided on an unexceptionable site for 
 re-interring them. In the neighbourhood of Shanghai, 
 Ningpo, and many other places, the first interment of 
 a dead body sometimes does not take place for many 
 years after it is ready for burial. 
 
 The body is placed in its strong coffin, which then 
 reposes under a shed till such time as the verdict 
 shall be given in favour of a grave of which beyond a 
 doubt the Feng-Shui will prove good. The number of 
 coffins piled in heaps in the open ground in many parts 
 would seem fabulous if it were known. 
 
 It is an interesting, though sad, sight to see the 
 
156 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 learned geomancer making his investigations. Walking 
 in country places, especially in those parts that have, 
 through these delusions, become in the course of time 
 vast cemeteries, one may often see a small group of 
 men wandering about — now surveying the ground, 
 now gazing at distant points in the landscape, now 
 intently gathered round some little spot of earth, 
 discussing in earnest tones a very serious problem. Be 
 sure there is a professor of Feng-Shui in their midst. 
 In his hand he carries a mysterious-looking instrument, 
 the centre of which is a small compass, and the wide 
 outer rim, painted with fifteen circles, is crowded with 
 written characters, each one of which is the symbol of 
 the various theories and principles that govern the 
 doctrine and practice of Feng-Shui. It is difficult to 
 gather any data by which to judge of the extent to 
 which these men themselves believe in their miserable 
 delusions, or whether they only make profit out of the 
 follies of the populace who are so anxious to be gulled, 
 and it is equally hard to form any opinion as to the 
 degree in which they act upon the written theories of 
 Feng-Shui in assisting their clients to select a tomb. 
 One thing is certain, viz., that they find it much easier 
 to procure repose for the dust of the poor than of the 
 rich. The latter are often kept waiting for years, while 
 abstruse calculations are made and heavy fees charged 
 for every attempt to solve the weighty and mysterious 
 problem. 
 
 Naturally, this distressing superstition is a stock 
 subject with Christian preachers in speaking to the 
 heathen. Sometimes the question is argued on scientific 
 grounds, but more often by reference to the discrepancies 
 between its professions and the facts. We remember 
 
FENGS HU I: THE BIGGEST OF ALL BUGBEARS . I 57 
 
 on one occasion hearing the whole subject discussed by 
 a very able preacher before a crowded heathen audience, 
 when he related this story. In Amoy there was a 
 Feng-Shui doctor who gave out that he was the most 
 learned and skilful of all his fraternity. Hearing this, 
 the preacher got into conversation with him, and 
 quietly asked him — 
 
 ‘ Have you chosen good F eng-Shui for yourself ? ’ 
 
 * Oh yes, the very best ; I used all the resources of 
 the art in selecting it/ 
 
 To put his clever acquaintance off his guard, the 
 preacher diverted the conversation a little, and then 
 said — 
 
 ‘ Is yours a lucrative profession ? ’ 
 
 * Alas, no ; it is scarcely possible to live by it/ 
 
 ‘You do not look strong; is it because of ill health 
 
 that you are so poor ? * 
 
 ‘No, it is not that, though I am often very weak and 
 ill ; it is that people will not pay me/ 
 
 ‘ Are your honoured parents living yet ? ’ 
 
 ‘ No, they left the world many years ago/ 
 
 ‘ How many children have you V 
 
 ‘ Alas ! I have buried the only three children I have 
 ever had/ 
 
 ‘ Why, herein is a strange affair/ said our friend the 
 preacher. ‘You declare that you are the most skilful 
 master of Feng-Shui, that you have chosen the very 
 best Feng-Shui for yourself, and that to have good 
 Feng-Shui secures all manner of good fortune, and yet 
 you cannot get a sufficiency of rice, and you are weak 
 in body, and have neither parent nor child ! ’ 
 
 There is no idea in the cranium of a Chinaman more 
 difficult to uproot than this absolute faith of his in the 
 
I5» 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 almightiness of Feng-Shui. Argument apparently fails 
 to loosen his hold in the least. He cannot grasp the 
 elementary principles of a sound theory of natural 
 science, for his prejudices are infinitely stronger than 
 his reason. He listens with the courtesy that is part 
 of his very nature ; and ‘with a smile that is child-like 
 and bland/ he congratulates his opponent on his skill 
 in argument and his extensive knowledge, but retains 
 his old opinions intact. In nothing does he show 
 himself more conservative. And even when grace has 
 reached his heart, and he joins the Church of Christ, 
 he too often clings to the rags of tradition, and tries to 
 amalgamate and reconcile his superstition with his 
 faith. Among many instances of this, one in particular 
 comes to mind. An elderly man at one of the Fuh-kien 
 country chapels was said to be a firm believer in Feng- 
 Shui, although he had made a profession of Christianity 
 for some years. I asked him before the whole con- 
 gregation whether it was true or not, and, he replied, 
 in a deep sepulchral tone of awful solemnity, which 
 raised a laugh even during the service, that * there 
 must be a great deal in it; a poor man like him could 
 not be expected to fathom it ; it was mysterious and 
 profound/ Their faith in Feng-shui is generally the 
 last superstition to be eradicated from the converts to 
 Christianity. 
 
 We are glad to hear that a vigorous effort is just now 
 being made by some of the most enlightened of the 
 prominent men in China to introduce the steam-engine 
 and electric telegraph, and to open up its valuable coal- 
 fields. It is estimated that there is just twenty times 
 as much coal in China as in the whole of Europe. 
 Hitherto they have feared to procure the coal, lest they 
 
FENG-SHUI: THE BIGGEST OF ALL BUGBEARS. 159 
 
 should disturb and provoke the spirit of the earth. 
 The spectacle has often been witnessed of children by 
 hundreds grubbing up the roots of grass for fuel, and 
 men deforesting the land and turning it into a barren 
 waste, while the coal comes so near the surface at the 
 distance of a few miles that the farmer meets with signs 
 of it as he drives the plough. But they fear to dig, lest 
 they should alter the conformation of the soil and upset 
 the Feng-shui; while even if they dared face such a 
 peril, Feng-shui has already made the transport of the 
 coal next to impossible by preventing the people from 
 constructing roads suitable for carts. 
 
 From the above it will be seen how much what we 
 might call the gospel of natural science is needed in 
 China, to assist in clearing away the tangled under- 
 growth that hinders the feet of the messengers of the 
 Truth. It must be cut down in time, and the time will 
 probably not be long. China cannot hold out many 
 years against the wave of Western thought beating 
 now upon her shores; and when another railway has 
 been made, and telegraph posts have proved the 
 groundlessness of their dismay, and mining operations 
 tempt the Chinese to risk rousing the wrath of the 
 enemy, it will probably be found that this overbearing 
 tyrant of Feng-Slmi, which at present has a stronger 
 rule over the people than idolatry, will topple to his 
 fall long before the gods are flung to the moles and 
 to the bats. 
 
i6o 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA . 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. 
 
 The Chinese are worthy of their renown for reverence 
 for scholars and learning. Education has, during several 
 millenniums, been regarded as necessary to the culture 
 of the best type of manhood. The words of Solomon, 
 ‘ That the soul be without knowledge is not good/ would 
 be heartily echoed by half the population of that vast 
 empire. The desire for learning has been transmitted 
 from generation to generation, through all the twenty- 
 four centuries since Confucius. In the sayings of the 
 sage and his disciples we trace evidences that in the 
 old time before them also the people of China held 
 knowledge in high repute. When our forefathers were 
 savages in the woods of Britain the Chinese had a 
 considerable literature, and were eminent among their 
 neighbours for learning. About the year A.D. 600 the 
 practice was begun, says the late Dr. S. W. Williams, 
 of conferring literary degrees upon students, and of 
 admitting officials to civil and military rank by means 
 of public examinations. It is true that education in 
 China is no better to-day than ever it was, that the 
 subjects of study have not been changed, nor the 
 standard advanced ; but it is equally true, as Dr. Williams 
 
SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. 
 
 161 
 
 puts it, that the degree of learning in China in the 
 pre-Christian centuries ‘ was, so far as we know, 
 altogether superior to what obtained among the Jew T s, 
 Persians, and Syrians of the same period/ It is no less 
 certain that the sages of China, such as pre-eminently 
 Confucius and his disciple Mencius, have obtained a 
 sway over the intellect and morals of the world such as 
 Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, and all the philosophers of 
 Greece and Rome have never reached. It may be that 
 the stability of the empire through four millenniums 
 (although it is a country that has frequently been rent 
 by revolution) is chiefly due to the national and social 
 sentiments which Confucius crystallized into speech. 
 
 This further tribute must be paid to Chinese learning, 
 viz., that the national literature, the books held in the 
 highest esteem, are all written in a high ethical strain. 
 The literature which forms the groundwork of the thought 
 and life of the people is morally unimpeachable. It 
 has often been charged against our own classical models 
 that they are unfit to be placed in the hands of young 
 persons. But in China no great classic needs to be 
 expurgated. The books in daily use in schools and 
 colleges do not contain a single phrase that could raise 
 a blush, or needs be passed over. To say the least, this 
 is very remarkable. Their neighbours the Hindoos 
 have a sacred literature which is a sink of licentiousness. 
 Many of the standard books of Rome, Greece, and 
 Persia are very unclean. Our own English classics are, 
 in no small measure, chargeable with loose and immoral 
 suggestions. But the crowning honour of the Chinese 
 race is that the books most reverenced are the purest ; 
 that their ethics are both wise and just, if not 
 particularly profound; and that the national ideal of 
 
 M 
 
162 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 moral conduct taught by these books, and universally 
 accepted, though too commonly ignored, has always 
 been both reasonable and good. As they are the oldest 
 nation in the world, so they have been beyond compare 
 the most moderate, discriminating, and moral. Their 
 literature has trained them in courtesy, temperance, 
 and reverence for private and public virtue. Falling 
 far short though they do of the Christian standard, it 
 must yet be said that they have many virtues that 
 Christians would do well to practise more circumspectly. 
 Nor is it any wonder that they marvel at our missionaries 
 for trying to teach them righteousness. Judging our 
 people and our faith by what is obvious to themselves, 
 they despise us as a people addicted to quarrelsomeness, 
 drunkenness, and licentiousness. But more of this 
 further on. 
 
 In writing the above we have, unfortunately, almost 
 exhausted our opportunities for praising the literature 
 and the educational principles of the Chinese. From 
 this point, discussion of these subjects resolves itself 
 into an indictment, if the standard of comparison for 
 learning is bound to be (which we cannot assert) the 
 same as obtains among ourselves. 
 
 Let it be at once understood that the terms education 
 and learning mean something incomparably higher in 
 the West than they do in the East, a remark equally true 
 of such words as worship, reverence, truth, purity, and 
 filial piety. Christianity has christianized these words. 
 In a heathen country they stand for little more than what 
 is customary, respectable, and ethical. There is in truth 
 no common ground on which we can base a comparison 
 between Western and Chinese learning. If the question 
 is asked, ‘ Are the Chinese an educated people ? ' no 
 
SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. 1 63 
 
 answer is sufficient that does not expound what is to be 
 understood by the term education in China. 
 
 One of the commonest delusions in regard to China 
 is that all the people can read, a remark that is often 
 heard and read in connection with missionary matters. 
 A few years ago a member of the House of Commons, 
 speaking on common school education, said, ‘ We shall 
 have to go to China to learn how to educate the masses 
 of our own population/ Concerning which all that need 
 be said is that honourable members are not to be 
 looked upon always as models of accuracy >or masters 
 of discrimination. 
 
 There is no possible method of deciding even approxi- 
 mately what is the number of persons able to read. 
 But during the last few years something like a general 
 agreement has been arrived at among persons who 
 have carefully studied the question. Only a few 
 writers and speakers here and there continue to use 
 the langma^e of exasperation about it. Moderate and 
 careful statements place the readers in China at some- 
 thing like one-tenth of the estimate of forty years 
 ago. Even so learned a writer as Medhurst says, ‘ The 
 number of individuals acquainted with letters in China 
 is amazingly great. One half of the male population 
 are able to read, while some “ mount the cloudy ladder ’’ 
 of literary fame, and far exceed their companions/ This 
 was, doubtless, the opinion generally held by foreigners 
 in China at the time Dr. Medhurst wrote; and it is 
 true still, if the phrase ‘acquainted with letters’ might be 
 taken literally. There is scarcely an adult male but can 
 pick out a few characters here and there in a proclama- 
 tion posted on the wall ; but, in the Chinese language, 
 to know a few characters does not assist one in the least 
 
 M 2 
 
164 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA.' 
 
 to understand the meaning of others. Multitudes can 
 read the characters, so as to know the names of hundreds 
 of them, without being able to read a book, so as to make 
 out the sense of it. There is also an exceedinglynumerous 
 class of men who can read one book, but not another. 
 
 It will be understood that, in presenting the following 
 considerations as to the number of readers, the writer is 
 not depreciating in any degree the mental ability of the 
 Chinese. The aggregate number is enormous, and 
 presents a magnificent fund of material for the Bible 
 Society and Religious Tract Society to work upon ; but 
 we ought to get rid as soon as possible of the fond 
 delusion that readers of books are numbered not merely 
 by tens of millions, but by hundreds of millions. 
 Suppose the population of the whole empire to be 
 
 400.000. 000. It has to be remembered, first of all, that 
 of these one half are women ; that in the whole of the 
 south there are no girls’ schools, and in the north the 
 number of females who can read the simple ‘ Mandarin 
 dialect,’ while large in the aggregate, is small compared 
 with the population. Let us fix on a liberal figure for 
 these ladies, and say there are 10,000,000, so as to throw 
 the balance in favour of the readers. Our number 
 is now 210,000,000, of whom 10,000,000 are females. 
 But half of the males of every country are less than 
 twelve years of age, and since the boy must be a genius 
 who could read even a simple book at sight in less 
 than ten years of study on Chinese methods, we must 
 halve our 200,000,000 of males. From the remaining 
 
 100.000. 000 of adults, males and youths, we must 
 deduct that large class of men who have never been to 
 school at all, — such as the major part of the fishermen, 
 boatmen, agricultural labourers, unskilled artizans, 
 
SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. 
 
 165 
 
 chair-bearers, baggage-men, wood-cutters, and beggars 
 (many millions of the last), who form at least one half the 
 total male population, old and young. We are left, on 
 our liberal way of calculating, with 50,000,000 of males 
 to account for ; and it is here that the element of uncer- 
 tainty comes in and the abundant room for difference 
 of opinion. They belong to so many grades of attain- 
 ment. There is an immense class of men who knew a 
 good deal of the character in their younger days, but 
 who, in a country without newspapers and magazines, 
 and the ordinary kinds of mental stimulus that obtain 
 among ourselves, have grown very rusty in it. It is, 
 let us say, extremely easy to forget the arbitrary and 
 unalphabetical hieroglyphics that form the written 
 medium of the language. Another considerable class 
 consists of those who, through pressure of business, 
 infirmity, and above all, short-sightedness, have for 
 many j^ears lost the art of reading. Is 20,000,000 too 
 high a figure for these men who are too busy, too 
 indolent, or too feeble to read ? If not, we have now 
 30,000,000 of males to deal with. Now, all who 
 know the Chinaman are aware that he is in the habit 
 of saying ‘Yes’ to the question, ‘Do you know the 
 character ? ’ The coolie class will perhaps reply, ‘ How 
 should such a man as I know anything of it? My 
 father had no cash to spare to send me to school. To 
 me the art is very profound and mysterious/ But great 
 numbers call themselves * know-the-c.haracter-men/ 
 whose learning will not bear investigation. They know 
 the characters they require in their business ; it may 
 be a hundred or a thousand. They can often read and 
 write business letters, but they cannot read even a 
 simple book at sight. The same is true of many who 
 
66 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 are called the learned. I have seen a ‘ teacher ’ in a 
 state of bewilderment at meeting with a few characters 
 he had not seen before. When I expressed to one 
 of these men my surprise that he could not read a 
 pamphlet which I had fairly well understood myself, he 
 replied, ‘ How should I ? I have never seen the book 
 before ! ’ One of the most amusing sights of the kind 
 I ever witnessed was the attempt of a graduate of the 
 first degree to make sense of the third chapter of John. 
 He gave it up at last with an impatient shout, and 
 evidently not because of the doctrine. Place the women 
 readers of the north at 10,000,000 if you will, and the 
 men readers of the whole empire at several tens of 
 millions if you think it safe ; the number, though enor- 
 mous in the aggregate, and presenting so fine a field 
 for the dissemination of religious truth, is still small in 
 comparison with the mass of the population. In the 
 cities there are of course more readers than in country 
 districts, and some provinces are very far in advance of 
 others. Missionaries have sometimes tried to make a 
 careful average estimate. Some years ago the mission 
 doctors at Ningpo examined the literary abilities of 
 every patient who came to their hospital, and decided 
 that in the city itself only about five per cent, of the 
 men could read a little. That percentage would have 
 to be lowered for the villages. In the northerly pro- 
 vinces, where the Mandarin language is read and 
 spoken, the proportion of readers is larger than in 
 the south, where the dialects and languages are so 
 numerous, and the written language coincides so little 
 with the market tongues. The most deplorably ignor- 
 ant province is Fuh-kien. Intelligent and judicious 
 colporteurs in that province have assured the writer 
 
SCHOOLS [AND COLLEGES . 
 
 167 
 
 that only one or two per cent, of the men can read with 
 sufficient intelligence to allow of the hope that, if they 
 receive the Scriptures, their own eyes could convey the 
 meaning to their minds and hearts. 
 
 It is not difficult to trace the mistaken notions 
 current in England to their true source. The facts 
 concerning Chinese education are remarkable enough 
 to account for them. Every town and almost every 
 village has its schools. The door to official promotion 
 is in the examination hall. Degrees are conferred 
 upon successful students. So greatly are these degrees 
 coveted that the unsuccessful will try for several tens of 
 years to thread their way through the maze that leads 
 to success. The most notable men of a neighbourhood 
 are not the wealthy, but the learned. The school- 
 masters form a distinct portion of the aristocracy of 
 the land. Monuments and tablets are erected to the 
 memory of celebrated writers. And, beyond all these 
 things, the immense bulk of their literature, however 
 poor may be the quality of it, will explain how a partial 
 and cursory glance at the question of Chinese education 
 has led to an exaggerated estimate of the general 
 culture of the people. Even if a new-comer had never 
 heard of the honour which the Chinese accord to a 
 knowledge of reading and writing, he could not help 
 soon becoming conscious of it. He observes writing 
 in all directions — shop signs, ornamental inscriptions, 
 placards, proclamations. He may perchance happen to 
 stroll through a street almost entirely consisting of 
 book-shops, like the Paternoster Row of Canton. Such 
 a sight impresses him the more because of his ignorance 
 of the fact that not in one village in a thousand is there 
 a book to be bought ; nor does he know that it is still 
 
1 68 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 a country without newspapers, except along the coast. 
 Now and again in his walk through the city he hears 
 the loud chatter of a score of lads reading their lessons 
 in school. It may be the time of the provincial 
 examinations for the Civil Service, and the town is 
 thronged with young and middle-aged men, who are 
 ready to enter the vast hall or court where the examina- 
 tions are held. All these things are most suggestive. 
 But what perhaps impresses most powerfully the 
 untutored observer is the respect which he finds is 
 paid by all to the written character. Small shrines 
 are erected at the corners of many streets, forming 
 furnaces into which the devout throw every scrap of 
 written paper, whether written by hand, printed, or 
 stamped, every piece of a torn book, their old letters, 
 and shreds that contain the price-marks of goods. 
 So sacred a thing is the character reckoned to be that 
 slips of paper are pasted on the walls, calling on the 
 populace to ‘reverence lettered paper.’ Baskets are 
 carried round to the shops by persons hired for the 
 purpose to collect these odds and ends with writing 
 on them. The benevolent and pious well-to-do people 
 put themselves to the trouble and expense of hiring 
 these collectors of waste-paper, under the belief that the 
 unwary and irreligious multitude would bring upon 
 themselves blindness and disease in this life, and the 
 heaviest penalties of hell in the next, by using lettered 
 paper to kindle fires, or by sweeping it up with the dirt 
 and rubbish of the house or street . 1 Our new arrival 
 
 1 In Foochow, in 1875, an official proclamation was posted on the 
 walls of the city, signed by the literary chief of the local prefectural 
 examinations, calling attention to the prevailing ‘ disrespect exhibited 
 towards the written character by shopkeepers, who, in shameless dis- 
 regard of propriety and ancient usage, have the audacity to print words 
 
SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. 
 
 69 
 
 is informed that these characters are honoured with the 
 names of ‘the eyes of the sages/ and that the art of 
 writing is poetically called ‘ treading in the footsteps 
 of holy men.’ And to crown all this array of illustra- 
 tion of the supposed learning of the people, he is told 
 that to pass an examination is to rise several grades in 
 social standing ; that such a scholar confers distinction 
 upon the district in which he dwells, as well as upon 
 himself; that a new and resounding title is given to 
 him ; and that not respect and influence only, but the 
 path to wealth also in many cases, is open to a man 
 who succeeds in the endeavour to join this literary 
 aristocracy. Who can wonder that such facts, curious and 
 superstitious as many of them are, lead to the conviction 
 that the Chinese are an eminently literary people ? 
 
 Let us examine this educational system from its 
 foundation. 
 
 We enter a boys’ school, and find from fifteen to 
 twenty-five lads eight to sixteen years of age seated 
 upon bamboo stools at tiny tables. On each table is 
 a slab of stone, a stick of Indian-ink, and the writing 
 brushes. Some are copying characters in little yellow 
 books; others are reading their lessons. These latter 
 shout their very loudest, instead of speaking in quiet 
 tones. The schoolmaster is satisfied with them so long 
 as they are making a noise. In ringing treble, their 
 faces up-turned and the veins of their necks distended, 
 
 upon the papers and wrappers used in the ordinary course of business, 
 the character being thus often torn and soiled with dirt in a way that 
 excites one’s strongest indignation ; ’ and, to avoid this criminal act of 
 writing upon their parcels and goods, merchants were exhorted * to use 
 rings and signs and figures of birds, fish, insects, and flowers on their 
 goods and packages, thus causing many benefits to accrue to public 
 morality.’ 
 
170 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 these shaven-headed, blue-robed little Celestials repeat 
 the lessons prescribed by the Board of Education a 
 millennuim or two ago, raising such a din that the whole 
 neighbourhood can hear, and the passer-by is advertised 
 of the existence of the school. 
 
 On entering the school-room in the morning the boys 
 first bow to the tablets of Confucius and the God of 
 Letters. Then they turn to their teacher and do the 
 same. A stick of incense is then placed in front of the 
 tablets, and the business of the day begins. 
 
 The schoolmasters are not a prepossessing race of 
 men, if the writer’s experience of them is a safe 
 criterion. A dirtier, greasier, slovenlier set of men 
 are not to be seen. Perhaps the sedentary and 
 uninspiring tasks make them careless in their habits, 
 and lead them to much smoking of tobacco. It has 
 also to be remembered that the schoolmasters generally 
 are the class of ‘scholars’ who have not succeeded 
 hitherto in obtaining a degree. There are no schools 
 supported by the Government, nor is there anywhere 
 a local tax levied to provide education for those who 
 cannot afford to pay for the instruction of their 
 children. It would be difficult to find a building 
 which had been specially erected as a school-house. 
 A needy ‘ literate ’ hires a dwelling with a large room, 
 and gets as many pupils as he can. The school hours 
 are from sunrise to ten in the forenoon, and from eleven 
 to sundown. The boys begin their course of study 
 by reading the names of the characters. This they 
 continue to do for several years, not being taught 
 the meaning of them until they have arrived at an 
 age when they are believed to be capable of under- 
 standing such explanations. Their little heads become 
 
SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. 
 
 171 
 
 mere memory-boxes for certain signs and sounds, but no 
 intelligent ideas at all are connected with them. They 
 also learn by rote certain small primers which are the 
 universal standard readers, called the Four Books of 
 Confucius and the Five Ancient Classics. Throughout 
 their whole course nothing else whatever is taught than 
 reading and writing, and committing to memory these 
 little books known to every Chinaman. Such studies 
 as geography, arithmetic, history, natural science, and 
 foreign languages are not so much as thought of. It 
 would greatly surprise one of these learned teachers to 
 tell him that these subjects were essentials of a liberal 
 education. It is not fair to judge the whole class by 
 such specimens as we have met; but our experience 
 must have been very unfortunate, or else the school- 
 masters are a very dull and benighted race. Their 
 incapacity to discriminate upon the plainest subject 
 that is out of the groove of their education is ludicrous 
 almost to the point of irritation. No question is too 
 childish for a schoolmaster to ask, and no absurdity too 
 gross to be believed. Visiting one of these gentry in 
 the house of a wealthy merchant, he leered at me 
 blankly for some five minutes, and then asked, ‘Can 
 your ships sail to the moon ? ’ I thought I must have 
 misunderstood him ; but he was anxious I should not 
 credit him with too much sense, and pressed the 
 question. The impossibility of a ship sailing in the 
 air had to be explained to him as to a child of three 
 years of age. 
 
 Such a schoolmaster earns a very poor living unless 
 he can get twenty pupils who pay regularly and well. 
 In Fuh-kien the fee is half a dollar a month for each 
 pupil, — say, from fourpence to fivepence a week. Taking 
 
172 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 the difference in the value of money into account, we 
 might call it about three shillings a week for a boy’s 
 education, — a fact which will reveal very clearly how 
 much China needs to adopt our public school system of 
 inexpensive education. In the country districts a fee 
 of less than half a dollar is the rule, but in this case the 
 parents of the pupils are expected to send to the master 
 presents of eatables with some degree of regularity. 
 
 The system of education in the colleges does not 
 appear to much better advantage. There is a change 
 only in the names of the books, little or none in the 
 quality of them. Nor is the education of the student 
 in our sense of the term advanced in a degree at all 
 proportionate to the immense labour and perseverance 
 with which these studies are pursued. Among ourselves 
 there are multitudes of men and women who are 
 profound students simply for the love of learning. We 
 call them hard readers, or book-worms, or consumers of 
 the midnight oil. They love to add to their stores of 
 knowledge. The scientist, or philologist, or theologian 
 studies for the sake of doing so, and for love of learning. 
 But it would be hard to find such a person in China. 
 There, literature is pursued almost solely as a means 
 of gain, to secure an honourable position in society, 
 or advancement in office and wealth. Originality of 
 thought is not cultivated, nor desired. To strike out 
 for one self a new path, whether in thought or expres- 
 sion, would be to insure failure. Almost the only 
 mental faculty trained to study is that of memory. A 
 theme is given by the examining f board, and an essay 
 must be written upon it conforming closely to the style 
 which has been regarded for ages as the standard. 
 The classics must be quoted liberally and with absolute 
 
SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. 
 
 7 3 
 
 precision. The candidate most likely to be ‘placed’ 
 is the one whose memory recalls most readily classic 
 phrases bearing on the subject given. It scarcely needs 
 be pointed out how ludicrously short such a system falls 
 of what we mean by education. In as far as the ethics 
 of Confucius and his greater pupil Mencius guide the 
 understanding, and afford a basis for sound judgment, 
 these students may be said to be educated. Nor will 
 we forget to credit them with a well- trained memory. 
 But of what expands the mind, and leads it into 
 undiscovered paths, there is almost nothing. Let it be 
 remembered that there are not different kinds or grades 
 of training and examination for those who intend to 
 pursue law, medicine, or a military career. For all 
 there is nothing but these everlasting and wearisome 
 classics. To be able to write a stilted essay and prosy 
 rhymes is considered sufficient proof of fitness to embark 
 in any undertaking. In the highest examinations the 
 history of China has a place;* but general history, 
 geography, mathematics, philosophy, sciences, and 
 languages would be thought utterly unworthy of the 
 halls of learning. 
 
 To Europeans whose notions of liberal culture cover 
 a considerable range of study which cannot be in itself 
 a means of direct pecuniary profit or a source of fame, 
 it is impossible to fathom the profound ignorance of the 
 average Chinese graduate. If he is asked whether he 
 knows where England, France, Russia, and America are, 
 he replies, ‘ What advantage would it be ? I am not 
 intending to travel.’ The same sort of answer is given 
 to the question, Would he like to know a foreign 
 language? ‘No, I do not see how I could earn any 
 money by it.’ His world is the land of his birth, and 
 
i74 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 less than that, — it is the narrow circle in which he 
 expects to pass his days. 
 
 Yet there are foreigners of talent, and whose position 
 and culture give their opinions a claim to our respect, 
 who sometimes indulge in a laudatory style of criti- 
 cism of Chinese learning. As we write, there comes to 
 hand a newspaper with the report of a speech by a 
 gentleman with a university degree. He says, ‘ The 
 Chinese have for many years had a most elaborate 
 system of universities. There are one hundred thousand 
 men who have taken a degree equal to any degree in 
 England. There are smaller university towns at which 
 the degree equivalent to the London B.A. may be taken. 
 A candidate, after passing this examination, may proceed 
 to the capital of his province to compete for the second 
 degree, which may be compared to the English M.A.’ 
 There is no need to quote on the other side the 
 statements of some of the most learned English and 
 German scholars, who have pointed out the fatuity of 
 such assertions. The author of the above-quoted words 
 himself suggests that there must be something fatally 
 amiss in the system of graduation by proceeding to add, 
 ‘ I had a station in one of these higher towns, where 
 every third year four thousand eight hundred men came 
 up for examination. Of these four thousand eight 
 hundred only seventy-five could possibly take the 
 degree, because the Government granted no more , so that 
 a successful competitor gains a very high honour.’ We 
 may put side by side with that statement the words of 
 Dr. Medhurst, written at a date when such opinions 
 were perfectly excusable : * Wealth, patronage, friends, 
 or favour are of no avail in procuring advancement; 
 while talent, merit, diligence, and perseverance, even in 
 
SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. 
 
 175 
 
 the poorest and humblest individual, are almost sure of 
 their appropriate reward. This is their principle, and 
 their practice does not much vary from it. They have 
 a proverb that, “ while royalty is hereditary, office is 
 not,” and the plan adopted at the public examinations is 
 an illustration of it.’ Both in the matter forming the 
 subject of examination, and the manner of conferring 
 degrees, they differ so much from our own universities 
 that it is vain to institute comparisons. Let them have 
 all due honour, and a large measure of it, for the respect 
 in which they hold learning, and the zeal with which they 
 pursue it ; but for the credit of European scholarship, 
 and for dread of ridiculous inaccuracy, let reference to 
 these Chinese degrees as equivalents of our B.A., M.A., 
 LL.D., and F.RS. be for ever avoided . 1 
 
 Mr. G. W. Cooke in his interesting correspondence, 
 published at the time of the last war with China, 
 reported many conversations with the Viceroy Yeh, and 
 among the rest, his statements as to the preparation he 
 had made for his position. He had taken the four 
 degrees. His last distinction was so great that he stood 
 second on the list at the highest examination. From 
 the lengthy dialogue printed in the Times at that date, 
 and afterwards published in a volume, we cull a few 
 of the correspondent’s queries, and the replies of this 
 distinguished graduate but gigantic murderer, who died 
 of surfeit, dirt, and laziness. 
 
 1 It may be interesting to some to read the names of the four 
 literary degrees. They are Siu-tsai, or ‘flowering talent,’ because of 
 the promise held out of the future success of the scholar ; Ku-jin , or 
 ‘ promoted men ’ ; Tsin-sze, or ‘ advanced doctors ’ ; and Han-lin, 
 which is rather an office than a degree, for those who attain it are 
 enrolled as members of the Imperial Academy, and receive salaries. 
 (Dr. "Williams, Middle Kingdom.) 
 
1 76 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 ‘Your Excellency was judge of Yunnan: did you 
 ever study Chinese law ? * — ‘ Never.’ 
 
 ‘ Did you never read the Chinese code ? ’ — ‘ No.’ 
 
 ‘ May I believe that a man who understands the Four 
 Books and the Five Classics is thereby, and without any 
 further study, fitted for every public office in China ? ’ — 
 ‘ From the very commencement of the Chinese Empire 
 it has been the custom to depend entirely on the Four 
 Books.’ 
 
 * Can your Excellency speak or read Mantchu ? ’ — 
 ‘No.’ 
 
 ‘ Nor the Cantonese dialect ? ’ — ‘ No.’ 
 
 ‘ In seeking civil employ, must you not know something 
 of practical matters, such as how to restrain rivers within 
 their channels ? ’ — ‘ No ; we are only expected to speak 
 of the true doctrine.’ 
 
 ‘ Are you not required to be acquainted with natural 
 history, or trade, or relations with foreign countries?’ — 
 ‘No’ (emphatically); ‘we are only expected to speak 
 of the true doctrine.’ 
 
 And so on to any length. 
 
 With such a system of education it can be no matter 
 of surprise that the graduates in China appear to be 
 the most ignorant, foolish, and impracticable class of 
 the people. Among the coolie and shop-keeping class 
 one meets with most intelligent and thoughtful men ; 
 but the aristocracy of ‘learning’ in general seem 
 incapable of receiving a new idea. From the very 
 beginning of their studies their range of thought has 
 been cramped by the method pursued. Their point of 
 view in regard to the blessings of education differs 
 absolutely from ours. Their idea is that man needs to 
 be kept from going wrong ; ours that man needs to be 
 
SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. 
 
 77 
 
 led into the way of right. Repression, therefore, rather 
 than expansion, is the tendency and result of education. 
 As Papuan mothers put the heads of their babes into 
 a frame to flatten them according to Papuan notions 
 of good looks, so the minds of Chinese students are 
 crushed into a mould which is regarded as the very 
 type and acme of all that is mentally and morally 
 elegant, with the natural result that mediocrity is 
 secured as well as uniformity. Originality is the last 
 gift a master desires for his pupil, and genius means, 
 not native vigour of thought, but an unusual gift for 
 being like everybody else. In the Fa-ti nursery 
 grounds near to Canton there are some very odd-looking 
 shrubs. The gardeners have clipped them to the shape 
 of various figures, such as a mandarin with flowing 
 robes, a stag, a water buffalo, an Englishman with 
 swallow-tail coat, high hat, and walking-stick. Every 
 twig that threatens to grow according to its own nature 
 is ruthlessly snipped off, in order that the whole form 
 of the bush may be contrary to nature. Under such a 
 figure we may illustrate the tendency of Chinese 
 methods of instruction to destroy true culture and to 
 repress the natural expansion of the mind. 
 
 The curious plan of conferring degrees must also be 
 adverted to. The ceremonial is most elaborate and 
 stately, worthy of a people who regard the possession of 
 learning with such respect. But the proportion of those 
 who pass the examinations is absurdly small. In the 
 Literary Hall of Canton there are upwards of 10,000 
 cells for the candidates, and they are filled at every 
 examination ; but only two or three hundred are allowed 
 to pass. Of the vast number who present themselves 
 year after year, the larger part have been up before, 
 
 N 
 
EVERYDAY LIRE IN CHINA. 
 
 1 78 
 
 many years in succession. A teacher of mine who 
 twice presented himself unsuccessfully while in my 
 employ told me that most of the candidates had been 
 trying to pass as long as he could remember. Cases 
 have been known in which grandfather, father, and son 
 have come up to the hall at the same time, the two 
 elder men having been doggedly pursuing their acade- 
 mical career from their }'outh. To be ‘ploughed* only 
 because the Government refuses to grant more than 
 a certain number of degrees is enough to bring furrows 
 to the most stoical brow. Such unfortunates usually 
 earn their living as schoolmasters, or by doing petti- 
 fogging law cases about the courts, or as clerks, doctors, 
 letter-writers, and fortune-tellers. 
 
 The difficulty of graduating in the recognized and 
 legitimate way has opened the door to a vast system 
 of official corruption. It is believed that as many 
 degrees are purchased with bribes as are won by talent. 
 Kothing is easier than for a man with sufficient coin 
 to ‘ purchase to himself a good degree.’ To the honour 
 of the Chinaman be it said that the public mind holds 
 such fictitious degrees in supreme contempt ; but the 
 fact that the possession of the literary degree gives 
 a touch of refinement to the social standing of the 
 ■wealthy man, such as he could never win solely by 
 his riches, has made the practice of procuring them 
 by brilery only too common. 
 
 He would be a bold prophet who should dare to 
 foretell anything that will happen in China during 
 the next twenty-five years. But great and sweeping 
 changes will certainly come, affecting the whole political 
 and social system. There is abundant reason, from 
 their point of view, for the conservatism of those native 
 
SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. 
 
 179 
 
 politicians who have resisted the introduction of 
 everything foreign. They dread the steam-engine and 
 the electric telegraph because they fear quick com- 
 munication. They are perfectly aware of the superiority 
 of Western enlightenment, but they are as alarmed at the 
 prospect of European ideas spreading among the people 
 as ever Roman priest was at his flock reading the 
 Bible. The present system of government must break 
 up. Internal disintegration will not do it, for there is 
 a marvellous cohesiveness of national life in the present 
 ignorant state of the masses. But contact with the 
 West will lead to revolution, sooner or later. The 
 shrewd politicians of China have foreseen that it is 
 inevitable, as every one who knows China can foresee it. 
 They are not as foolish as they sometimes appear to be. 
 
 In their modes of school and college training changes 
 must also set in rapidly. Great numbers of Chinese 
 youths are being trained in America and Germany. 
 More still are passing through the colleges presided 
 over by foreigners in Hong-kong, Canton, Shanghai, 
 and Peking. Every year hundreds of men leave 
 these institutions as English scholars. These native 
 gentlemen, who know our language intimately, and a 
 good deal of our literature, are destined to displace the 
 dullards who worked their way into office through the 
 old doors. To be an English-speaker is to have a source 
 of income and to be on the road to power. It is 
 impossible that men whose minds are steeped in 
 Western thought can continue to rule China on the 
 same narrow lines as those which have been orthodox 
 during four millenniums. It needs only that a few 
 prominent positions be held by men who never entered 
 a native examination-hall in order to shake these 
 
 N 2 
 
l 80 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 ancient seats of learning to their foundation. Foreign 
 ideas have begun to pour into the land, and the torrent 
 will soon become a flood. Daily newspapers edited 
 by natives circulate along the coast by hundreds 
 of thousands, issuing chiefly from Hong-kong and 
 Shanghai. Missionary periodicals, weekly and monthly, 
 pour forth tens of thousands more. Scientific institu- 
 tions of various kinds are springing up under European 
 management. Arsenals and shipping companies, wholly 
 in the hands of natives, are accomplished facts. The 
 Government are so Dr aware of the necessity of 
 recognizing this tendency towards European methods 
 that, though they do not try to keep pace with the 
 times, they know the fates will not allow them to he as 
 far in the rear as they could wish. A considerable 
 English literature on every branch of science, as well as 
 many hundreds of theological and religious books, have 
 been translated. The Government have even secured 
 the services of a staff of gentlemen to act as official 
 translators of standard scientific and other works. The 
 broad end of the wedge is rapidly following the thin 
 end. Hindered this process will be by the hatred of 
 the literary class for everything foreign; hampered it 
 must be by the cumbrous written character, so utterly 
 unsuited to express new ideas. But these restraining 
 influences will only tend providentially to prevent 
 the revolution in the national thought from being 
 dangerously rapid. In the end, and before very long, this 
 wonderful people, so shrewd and so anxious to be wise, 
 will prefer that which is true and good, though new and 
 foreign, to that which is meagre and inaccurate, though 
 consecrated by ancestral usage and national approval. 
 
A BUDDHIST MONASTERY. 
 
 1 8 1 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A BUDDHIST MONASTERY. 
 
 The monastery of the Bubbling Well on Kusban, or 
 Drum Mountain, six miles south-east of Foochow, stands 
 1700 feet up the hill-side, and a craggy peak towers 
 yet another 1000 feet above it. 
 
 By the kindness of our missionary brethren we "were 
 provided with a comfortable boat, in which we rowed 
 and floated Avith the tide for about five miles to the foot 
 of Kushan. The ascent begins not very far from the 
 landing-place. The road consists almost entirely of 
 stone steps in good repair, each stone being eight feet 
 long. The steps wind round several bluffs. There are 
 a good many trees overhanging the path, but at clear 
 points splendid vieAVS are obtained of the great valley 
 of the Min, in the direction of Foochow. Four archways 
 divide the hour’s ascent into easy stages, and provide 
 places of rest for the weary climber. Each of these is 
 a rough kind of temple supplied with gods in a poor 
 state of repair. Exposure to the weather tries the 
 constitutions of these depressed-looking and obese 
 deities, whose noses and toes and other protuberances 
 are apt to show unmistakable signs of decay. Sacri- 
 legious Englishmen and Americans have of course 
 
182 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 defaced the walls of these alcoves with their names 
 and sketches ; but as the Chinese do the same to an 
 unlimited extent, no Chinaman probably has thought 
 it showed much lack of propriety on the part of the 
 foreigner. 
 
 While we are resting for a few moments before 
 completing the last part of the ascent, we may say a 
 word or two in regard to these Buddhist monks. 
 Several of them are persons who have run away from 
 their family obligations, so our guide tells us. One has 
 taken the sacred vows to save himself from the last 
 penalty of the law. Most of them, however, have 
 either been devoted by their parents to the monastic 
 life when mere children, or they have been purchased 
 as boys by the fraternity to complete their number. 
 Priests trained in these institutions can claim the 
 gratuitous hospitality of Buddhist monasteries in all 
 parts of the kingdom, provided they present a certificate 
 of membership signed by the abbot of the monastery to 
 which they belong. Most of these places own some 
 land (this one is particularly wealthy), but where the 
 property is not large the monks make up the deficiency 
 in their income by begging of visitors, who go in con- 
 siderable numbers in fine weather, or they wander in 
 the streets begging at the shop doors. This style of 
 ‘making a collection’ of course goes by the title of 
 receiving voluntary contributions from the pious; but 
 you have only to watch one of these unwholesome 
 brethren thrusting himself upon the attention of a 
 shopkeeper, and refusing to accede to the polite request 
 that he will leave clear the space he occupies, while he 
 strikes a little globe of brass with a stick, to understand 
 that such a method is voluntaryism with a difference. 
 
A BUDDHIST MONASTERY. 
 
 183 
 
 Sometimes a company of a score or more will invade a 
 ward of a town, and ‘ do ’ it thoroughly for a day, one 
 of the solemn and pious brethren beating a gong at 
 every pace to draw attention to themselves, while a 
 few of their servants follow them to gather up the gifts 
 of rice, oil, and cash which the bountiful feel inclined 
 to bestow. The priests give up all the relationships of 
 social life. That they are celibates does not so much 
 contravene the notions of the Chinese, nor arouse their 
 dislike. But the fact that their vow compels them also 
 to neglect their parents fills the follower of Confucius 
 with disgust. The name by which they are respectfully, 
 though obliquely, referred to, ‘ Forsaken-the-family ’ 
 (chek-ke), expresses this dislike in moderate terms, and 
 the deeper feeling of contempt thrusts itself into notice 
 in a stronger term, ‘ Bald-headed asses/ which is almost 
 as common. Though much despised, the superstitious 
 seek their aid frequently in household religious cere- 
 monies. In the monastery they spend much of their 
 time in reciting the sacred books of the Buddhist faith, 
 which, though written in Chinese, are not understood 
 either by priests or people. The sounds of the original 
 Sanscrit as it came from India in the year that the 
 Apostle Paul was travelling in bonds to Rome are 
 represented by Chinese characters, but the meaning 
 of the sounds has been completely lost in the ages that 
 have elapsed since Buddhism was driven out of India 
 to find a refuge further east. 
 
 The immediate approach to the monastery is by a 
 wide and well-kept road densely shaded by large trees. 
 To a European, the general appearance of the building 
 from the road, or from the cliffs around it, is not 
 prepossessing. It resembles the granaries, stables, and 
 
1 84 E VER YD A Y LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 sheds of a model farm more than anything else. But 
 its situation in this deep dell, with the sides of the hill 
 rising sheer from its outer walls, the mass of the mountain 
 for a background, and the descending hill in front to 
 the valley nearly 2000 feet below, is one that it would 
 be difficult to match for beauty. Truly these monkish 
 recluses had an eye for the beautiful as well as for their 
 own comfort. About a square acre and a half is covered 
 with buildings, the various shrines and halls being 
 placed compactly along the four sides, while the large 
 temples and the refectory occupy the central space. 
 
 The entrance is by a wide wooden archway, on each 
 side of which stand a pair of hideous figures known as 
 ‘ Buddha’s door-keepers.’ Opposite the gate, and in 
 the centre of the large square, are two temples, among 
 the handsomest (as Chinese taste goes) and most 
 complete of Buddhist buildings in all China. The 
 smaller temples and shrines opening from the sur- 
 rounding cloisters are very numerous, and are dedicated 
 to all the more important spirits in the Buddhist 
 Pantheon. Of these the highest place is given to the 
 local deities who shed down prosperity on the city of 
 Foochow. 
 
 One may remark, in passing, that either the faculties 
 of the gods are growing rusty, or they have been in a 
 spiteful mood of late, for in the course of the fifteen 
 months before we gazed upon them there had been in 
 Foochow two disastrous floods, in which the loss of life 
 and destruction of property were incalculable, and one 
 of which carried away a large part of that great 
 engineering work, the ‘ Bridge of Ten Thousand Ages/ 
 which spans the Min ; also two extensive conflagrations, 
 destroying several thousand houses ; a typhoon, and the 
 
A BUDDHIST MONASTERY. 
 
 185 
 
 cholera. This list of calamities shows that the 
 governmental arrangements of said local deities need 
 reorganizing very badly. But there they sit, poor 
 things, apparently perfectly satisfied with themselves ; 
 and there come the still more pitiable priests and people, 
 who regard the ‘ images good for nothing, the work of 
 an ancient hand,’ as the tutelary deities that defend the 
 million-peopled city from disaster. 
 
 Among the various rooms that surround these large 
 halls for worship are kitchens and store-rooms, which 
 are worth seeing, because of the elaborate scale on 
 which it is necessary to prepare rice and vegetables 
 for the daily sustenance of upwards of two hundred 
 vegetarians; a printing-room for the production of 
 Buddhist books, in which with much labour the small 
 number of one hundred pages a day are struck off from 
 the rudely-cut wooden blocks ; a reception hall * for 
 distinguished guests ’ ; the abbot’s private rooms and 
 reception room, all appropriately dingy and dirty ; bath- 
 rooms, very foul, and in almost total darkness, for the 
 compulsory ablution of the monks at least once in five 
 days (and very much some of them seemed to need it) ; 
 the ‘Hall of Law/ where the precepts of Buddha are 
 taught to neophytes ; the ‘ Hall of Contemplation/ to 
 which these worthies retire to think themselves, by the 
 negation of thought, into eternal intellectuality : and the 
 library and 1 Hall of the Five Hundred Honourables.’ 
 
 In the ‘ Hall of Contemplation ’ our guide, who goes 
 by the name of ‘ Attend-guests/ with much dumb-show 
 to call our serious attention to what he was going to 
 do, drew aside a curtain of cloth which had once been 
 blue, and revealed to us a monk on a dais, kneeling 
 on a low stool, and sitting on his heels. ‘ This/ said 
 
1 86 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 Mr. Attend-guests, * is a peculiarly holy man ; * though 
 I could not help thinking there was a peculiarly facetious 
 expression about our obliging friend’s face as he made 
 the remark. The monk was ‘ contemplating/ and had 
 been in that attitude for three weeks, a little food being 
 handed to him now and then. 
 
 There is another shrine that deserves a paragraph to 
 itself. It was one of the most gaudily decorated in 
 the monastery. Under a glass shade was what seemed 
 to be a good-sized section of an elephant’s tusk, but we 
 were gravely assured that it was one of Buddha’s 
 teeth. We remarked that if Buddha had a tooth as 
 large as that, he himself must have been of gigantic 
 stature ; to which the guide replied, * Great, great, 
 extremely great/ That it is really true that these 
 degenerate Buddhists believe their founder to have 
 been so big, there is no doubt, for they will show you 
 the print of his foot. In Canton I reckoned the 
 foot-print in the granite rock shown me as the mark 
 of Buddha’s footstep to be twelve feet long, and 
 proportionably broad. It is difficult to conceive of the 
 state of degradation into which Buddhism has sunk 
 when it lays such emphasis upon the mere physical 
 bigness of the chief prophet of its faith. In many parts 
 of China there are temples and shrines built over the 
 relics of Buddha, and in some cases there is nothing 
 more of him to show than a single hair. 
 
 Perhaps the most grotesquely-interesting sight of all 
 is a quantity of live stock. In one corner of the 
 monastery are styes and pens for the preservation, till 
 their happy release from the burden of life, of an 
 astounding number of decrepit beasts — pigs, goats, and 
 fowls being in the majority. These are the offerings 
 
A BUDDHIST MONASTERY. 
 
 187 
 
 of the faithful, who hope to purchase and secure 
 everlasting happiness, or at least escape from everlasting 
 perdition, by the act of rescuing the animals from the 
 hands of the unhallowed mortals who destroy life and 
 grieve the soul of Buddha. Let no one say he has 
 seen the most ancient of those venerable chickens, the 
 mere aspect of which takes off the edge of appetite, 
 until he has visited Kushan, and looked upon these 
 dishevelled birds whose eyelids have long since grown 
 together, leaving them in darkness, and whose very 
 feet are covered with feathers an inch in length. In 
 this weird menagerie, too, may be seen goats with hair 
 trailing upon the ground, and pigs with their four limbs 
 stretched out at right angles to their body, not through 
 weight of fat by any means, but simply through weight 
 of years. Here the moral philosopher may learn what 
 a gift for torture some men exhibit in what they are 
 pleased to call their mercy. Surely such melancholy 
 mute appeals from dumb animals to a sympathizing 
 spectator are to be seen nowhere else. The kindest 
 hand that could be introduced into these styes would 
 be that of a butcher. It is a temptation to risk one’s 
 immortality in a Buddhistic Nirvana for the sake of 
 putting an end to such an accumulation of misery. 
 Death appears no longer a curse, but a blessing, after 
 seeing in the survival of these unhappy quadrupeds and 
 fowls the sorrows and the pains of age. 
 
 A similar sight, but without its ghastly features, 
 meets one in the court opposite the central temple. 
 Here are fish-ponds in which are multitudes of fish, 
 and some of them apparently of great size. They look 
 like gigantic perch as they struggle for the biscuit 
 which we throw to them. Puffing and panting, gasping 
 
1 88 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 aloud, like a cow coughing as she chews the cud, they 
 writhe over the surface a slimy, tortuous mass. These 
 fish also are preserved out of devotion to Buddha. 
 
 But we must now relate a good story told by one of 
 our number who had been here before. He said that 
 on his former visit he got into an argument with Mr. 
 Attend-guests on the subject of the wickedness of 
 taking animal life. ‘ But, Tai-kek, ’ said my friend, 
 
 ‘ would you not kill a flea or a mosquito ? ’ ‘ Neither a 
 
 flea, nor a mosquito, nor — ’ and here he mentioned a 
 list of the most prominent parasites upon the human 
 subject in China, — ‘ that/ he added, £ would be to imperil 
 my soul/ Later in the day my friend came upon Tai- 
 kek endeavouring to drown his bedding in the fish- 
 pond by putting brick-bats upon it, and of course doing 
 it with intentions which were self-evident. ‘ Why, 
 Tai-kek/ said our missionary brother, ‘what are you 
 doing there ? You said you would not destroy even a 
 flea.’ * Nor am 1/ said Tai-kek ; ‘ they can swim ; if 
 the fish choose to destroy them, that is their affair ! * 
 
 Above the roof of one of the shrines is an immense 
 bronze bell, which is struck at regular intervals. In 
 another chapter I have attempted to explain the 
 purpose of the wave of sound that it produces, and to 
 show its relation to the whole theory of Feng-shui. 
 In some occult fashion it is believed to pacify, harmonize, 
 and regulate the spirit-influences that affect the 
 building and its occupants. The vibrations are said to 
 circulate through the veins of surrounding nature, 
 preserving to the monastery peace, health, and general 
 good-luck. The blessings the bell showers out in its 
 mellow tones extend as far as to Foochow. The monks 
 declare that the reverberations never cease, and that 
 
A BUDDHIST MONASTERY. 1 89 
 
 were there even a momentary silence, the threads of 
 the spirit-influences would be severed, and calamity 
 would ensue. On this account, day and night, year in 
 and year out, one of their number must be there to give 
 the stroke, — blows at intervals of about forty seconds 
 being sufficient to make one reverberation mingle with 
 the subsidence of its predecessor. 
 
 But monks are lazy mortals, and love not work even 
 though it be not hard. Moreover, being lazy, they are 
 prone to slumber ; and even though they fall not asleep, 
 yet may they fall to thinking over-deeply on that strange 
 work-a-day world that lies near 2000 feet below them. 
 Thus, even the zealous and anxious soul hath been 
 known to leave too long an interval between the 
 successive booming of the bell. Consequently, they 
 have invented a method by which they may be saved 
 the effort of drawing the cord that bangs the pendent 
 lump of wood against the outer side of the bell. Some 
 seventy yards or more from the belfry a stream runs 
 down from the hill-side. This is dammed up to form 
 a pool for constant supply. As the water runs over 
 at its outlet it fills a wooden trough, which, when it 
 is nearly full, turns over by the weight of water, and 
 pulls the cord that rings the bell that rules the spirits 
 that bring peace to the otherwise troubled souls of the 
 monks. And so, through gradations as regular as in 
 the story of the House that Jack built, the trickling 
 stream that innocently issues from the hill-side makes 
 its influence felt as far as the city of Foochow. 
 
 Outside the monastery walls the walks on hill and in 
 dale, over crag and cliff, through fern-copse and wooded 
 dell, in caves and grottoes, by natural and artificial 
 streams and fountains, are very beautiful. Walking 
 
19 ° EVERYDAY LIFE IN' CHINA. 
 
 alone in the brushwood while my friends were at some 
 distance, it was my hap to see at my feet a huge snake, 
 whose coil as it lay in the grass must have measured 
 thirty inches across. It is needless to say I did not 
 remain to observe it more accurately. Mentioning the 
 fact to the monks, we learned that this, like the 
 dilapidated domestic brutes within the monastery, was 
 an importation. A faithful believer residing in the west 
 of the province had purchased its preservation, when 
 about to be killed, for the sum of sixteen dollars, and 
 put himself to the further expense of having it carried 
 across to Kushan. Its weight is 75 lbs., and its teeth 
 are said to be extracted. It is literally the bete-noire of 
 the monks, who doubtless regret that the necessity of 
 securing their salvation compels them to allow it to 
 roam about in their beautiful woods. If the buyer of the 
 boa, or whatever it is, expected to attain heavenly bliss 
 through his faith, toil, and expense, he should at least 
 have reflected on the possibility of his sending some 
 one else out of the world more speedily than is kind. 
 
 Our main object in visiting Kushan was to see 
 Buddhist worship at its best. At 3.30 p.m. the monks 
 were summoned to prayer by the beating of the hollow 
 trunk of a tree shaped to the likeness of a dragon. This 
 same trunk had suffered considerably through the 
 united efforts of time and the cudgel, and threatened 
 to succumb altogether after a little more flagellation. 
 Less than a hundred members of the fraternity put in 
 an appearance at the sound of the church-going dragon, 
 for if they attend at the service held before daybreak 
 they are excused in the afternoon. All wore the sacred 
 yellow hood over the robe, the abbot being arrayed in 
 a red robe and red shoes. Before entering the great 
 
A BUDDHIST MONA STB BY. 191 
 
 temple each man bowed in silence for a few moments 
 before the shrine of the ‘ local ’ deities. 
 
 The temple, judged by Western ideas of taste, is 
 tawdry, and the attempt at elaboration is over-done. 
 Three colossal images of the Buddhas (Past, Present, and 
 To Come) occupy the space furthest from the entrance 
 door. A profusion of shrines, rich carving, numberless 
 pendent lanterns of every shape and many sizes; 
 images, candles, flowers, decorate the altars and shrines. 
 The signs of wealth are abundant, but there is no sign 
 of good taste or of the sentiment of worship. Gaudiness 
 and costliness are the two things that seem to have been 
 aimed at. 
 
 Of large altars there are two ; one in front of the 
 images of Buddha, and the other, much smaller, and 
 near the door, standing between the high altar and the 
 door. This smaller altar was used at the service we 
 witnessed, the other being the altar at which High Mass 
 is performed on festival days. There are no seats for 
 worshippers. Rows of kneeling-stools about ten inches 
 high, and mats to stand upon, are the only pieces of 
 furniture. 
 
 The service is about to begin. Amid solemn silence 
 a drum is struck to give the signal. Soft and slow 
 music at once breaks upon the ear. The abbot marches 
 in, dressed in his priestly vestments, attended by 
 little boys as acolytes, who bear in their hands pots 
 of incense, or bells, which they strike at intervals. The 
 music very gradually becomes more rapid, increasing in 
 volume as well as in speed. Now and then the monks 
 turn to face one another, two and two, and as they 
 swing round again to their former position the music 
 declines to its original 'piano and andante strains. 
 
192 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 At the time of listening to the monks I did not 
 attempt to write down the various chants. My atten- 
 tion was far too much engrossed with the extraordinary 
 spectacle. But on returning to Foochow, a friend who 
 had been to Kushan several times, and who had a 
 trustworthy musical ear, assisted my memory. The 
 following three chants are, 1 believe, quite accurate ; 
 or, if incorrect in any particular, are so approximately 
 correct as to form a sufficient illustration of the nature 
 of the Kushan melodies. The first of them was sung 
 without intermission for about seventeen minutes, just 
 as in the Roman churches the pagan fashion is followed 
 of invohing the popish pantheon at Vespers. 
 
 y T TP 
 
 — 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 \ l 
 
 
 ■vj) 0 * 1 — 
 
 
 -& 1 — j — 1 - 
 
 
 
 
 
 s 
 
 
 ±j*Sm 
 
 
 
 mmm « 
 
 ^ -<Sh 
 
 To give any adequate description of the hour’s 
 service is impossible. Let the reader try to exercise 
 his imagination, and to conceive the spectacle of a 
 hundred shaven-headed Chinamen in yellow robes, 
 standing in two groups of fifty, separated by the low 
 altar, with closed eyes and clasped hands, chanting 
 monotonously, sometimes rapidly and sometimes slowly ; 
 the abbot in a red robe prostrate before the altar, while 
 six acolytes, three on each side of him, are beating time 
 
A BUDDHIST MONASTERY. 
 
 193 
 
 to the music, one with a drum, a second with a big 
 bell, and a third with a very small bell, giving one blow 
 to every note pronounced by themselves and the con- 
 gregation, whether slow or rapid ; the worshippers now 
 kneeling and now standing, now facing one another 
 and now turning to the high altar, — the whole per- 
 formance closing with a procession between the kneel- 
 ing-stools, up and down, and round and round the 
 temple, while they chant the word ‘ O-me-to ’ ( c Praise 
 to Buddha’) precisely one thousand times, telling off 
 the number accurately by means of the rosary in their 
 hands. If you, reader gifted with imagination, can call 
 this scene before your mind, and the surroundings of 
 gorgeous decoration, massive gilt idols, candles burning 
 on the altar, and the heavy smell of incense, you will 
 have an approximate idea of what are the externals 
 of Buddhistic worship in their most complete form in 
 China at the present day. 
 
 That which strikes a visitor most is the marvellous 
 resemblance between the whole of it and the Romish 
 mummeries called the Mass. The high altar and 
 smaller shrines ; the gaudy colours, lighted candles, and 
 smoking incense ; intoned prayers and chants in ‘ a 
 tongue not understanded of the people ’ ; the shaven 
 celibates, the acolytes and choristers ; the officiating 
 priest in embroidered cope ; pictures and many images, 
 (one of which, Kwan-im, is surprisingly like the Romish 
 statues of the Virgin carrying the infant Jesus); the 
 constant genuflexions, the tinkling of a bell as the 
 signal for prostration, the sprinkling of holy water 
 the elevation and sacrifice of holy rice ; the procession 
 and long-continued ejaculation of ‘ Praise to Buddha ’ 
 (resembling the ‘ Hail, Mary ! ’), the use of strings of 
 
194 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 beads to reckon the repetitions, — all these recall most 
 vividly the services of the Roman Church, and confirm 
 the conviction that Romanism is not so much Chris- 
 tianity degenerated towards paganism, but rather 
 paganism only slightly Christianized. Romanism and 
 Ritualism are only the working out in the forms of 
 worship of the paganism that lies latent in every 
 human heart. 
 
 And if we add to the twenty-two resemblances 
 mentioned above some seventeen other points of similar- 
 ity between Romanism and Buddhism that strike every 
 student of them both, we shall only strengthen that 
 impression. Vows of celibacy in both sexes, nunneries 
 under the patronage of ‘ Our Lady’; statues of the 
 Goddess of Mercy, the ‘ Hearer of Cries/ called also the 
 ‘ Holy Mother/ and the ‘ Queen of Heaven/ bearing 
 the child in her arms ; 1 the taking of a new name 
 on entering the convent; the shaving of the head, 
 corresponding with the tonsure ( denudatio capitis , 
 revelatio mentis ) ; a special monastic dress, fasting, 
 forbidden meats, masses for the dead, the doctrine 
 of purgatory, the power of the priests to deliver souls 
 from purgatory in consideration of a cash payment, the 
 canonization of saints, the pretended performance of 
 miracles, the worship of relics, and the belief in 
 justification by works, — these various points of ritual 
 and credulity present so many coincidences that practi- 
 cally the resemblance between the two religions is 
 complete. 
 
 Is it any wonder that the French missionary Premare 
 
 1 In a Romish chapel at Foochow there is a large white earthenware 
 statue of Kwan-im used to represent the Virgin and Child. I fancied 
 the priest seemed uncomfortable as we looked at the imposture. 
 
A BUDDHIST MONASTERY. 
 
 195 
 
 wrote from China to the Pope that ‘the devil had 
 mimicked Holy Mother Church in order to scandalize 
 her’ ? or that Abbe Hue, the slave of his unhappy 
 superstition, says of Buddhism that ‘ it has an admixture 
 of truth with Holy Church ’ ? Premare ascribed these 
 lamentable errors to the devil, and so do we ; but he 
 thought the devil was mimicking the Romish Church, 
 whereas the case was precisely the opposite. 
 
 Service over, we adjourned to the refectory to see the 
 brethren demolish the vast piles of rice and vegetables ; 
 and then, amid the dim shadows of the evening and 
 through the melancholy pine forest, we ran down *the 
 hill- side, and made our way with some little difficulty 
 along the narrow mud banks between the paddy-fields 
 to our boat. 
 
 o 2 
 
196 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 CREMATION OF A BUDDHIST PRIEST. 
 
 At a time when the question of burning instead of 
 burying the dead is being discussed a good deal, it may 
 be interesting to know that it has been the custom of 
 the Chinese Buddhists for many centuries to cremate 
 their priests and monks who have * gone away/ as they 
 delicately put it. 
 
 On the occasion of visiting the Kushan monastery, 
 described in the last chapter, as we were climbing the 
 steep hill we noticed ahead of us a procession of unusual 
 appearance ; and learning that the dead body of a priest 
 was about to be cremated, we kept a short distance 
 behind the procession, in order to witness the whole of 
 the ceremony as far as might be possible. The shape 
 of the coffin puzzled us very much, for instead of being 
 long and shallow it was short and deep. We found 
 the explanation of this to be, that the corpse was in a 
 sitting posture in its short box. Four men carried it 
 on their shoulders, as though it were a sedan chair. The 
 whole of the coffin and poles was covered with a 
 beautiful pall, the ground -work of which was scarlet, 
 worked with figuring in blue, silver, and gold. In front 
 walked a man who, at short intervals, scattered on the 
 
CREMATION OF A BUDDHIST PRIEST 1 9 7 
 
 ground pieces of paper in imitation of Chinese cash. 
 These were round, about two and a half inches in 
 diameter, with a square hole in the centre, and in 
 colour white and yellow, as representing silver and 
 gold. This paper is called ‘ buy-the-road paper/ and is 
 intended to purchase the right of way from the spirit- 
 world for the spirit of the dead. As the doctrine is one 
 of vanity and lies, it is but natural and appropriate that 
 false money should be used to deceive the spirits. 
 
 When about a quarter of a mile below the monastery 
 the procession halted upon a level piece of ground, 
 where a path turned off and down to the right. The 
 coffin was put on the ground, and the bearers and 
 priests amused themselves by lolling about, laughing 
 and chatting. Several came forward and engaged in 
 conversation with us. They were kind enough to 
 explain a few details of the funeral whose purpose and 
 meaning had escaped us. One young man was very 
 much interested in a common lead-pencil with metal 
 head, with which I was making notes. He was as 
 pleased as a child when it was presented to him. 
 
 Presently the fraternity, to the number of a hundred 
 and ten, sauntered towards us at a leisurely pace. All, 
 of course, were closely shaven, with one exception, and 
 for mourning wore a long robe of lavender colour, with 
 a yellow shawl or hood thrown loosely over the back, 
 passing under the right arm, and fastened with a buckle 
 upon the left shoulder. The yellow hood is worn only 
 at religious services. Some of the number were con- 
 spicuously silent, and apparently indifferent to the 
 solemn event at which they were assisting, while a few 
 were as conspicuously reverent, muttering prayers. 
 Bowing low, they saluted one another as they arrived 
 
igS 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 with the cry ‘ O-me-to,’ which, as we observed, means 
 ‘ Praise to Buddha,’ but in this connection would seem 
 rather to imply ‘ Peace be with you ’ (Ping-an), the salut- 
 ation of Christians in China when they meet or part. 
 
 The officiating priest, dressed in a reddish-purple 
 robe like that of the abbot, having arrived, we strolled 
 down in the easy-going manner of the monks, without 
 a procession being formed, to the cremation ground, 
 which was distant only a hundred yards or so. It is in 
 a wild spot. The platform on which we stood had been 
 made by digging at the steep face of the hill and levelling 
 the rocks and earth so dislodged. On one side, in the 
 direction of the monastery, the hill rose abruptly to a 
 height of more than a thousand feet. All around the 
 platform was a fringe of fir trees, while its outer edge 
 looked deep down into a gloomy dell, and one could not 
 help feeling that 1700 feet lower down, though hidden by 
 the trees, there was the valley and the river Min. During 
 the ceremony the wind soughed and wailed through the 
 wood, in harmony with the weird scene of the burning 
 corpse surrounded by the curious-looking monks. 
 
 It is a strange sight, never to be forgotten, to see 
 these hundred and ten men, who have bidden farewell 
 to the world and all human relationship, and perched 
 themselves in a cloister like a huge bird’s-nest high up 
 among the hills, meet to bid farewell to one of their 
 own brotherhood among these desolate woods. And 
 they are such a varied company. Surely never had 
 monastery representatives of more types of character 
 than we find gathered here. There stands a mild, 
 blue-eyed, handsome youth, with cheerful, intelligent 
 features, who seems quite out of place in such 
 companionship ; for next him is a creature more brute 
 
CREMATION OF A BUDDHIST PRIEST. 199 
 
 than man, with bull neck, heavy lips, low forehead, and a 
 perpetual scowl — Punch’s type of the professional burglar 
 or prize-fighter, Bill Sikes moulded to the life. There 
 again is another youth of intellectual aspect, whose sad 
 face vividly recalls Dore’s picture of ‘ The Neophyte ’ ; 
 and near him a tall man with firm lips and deep-set 
 eyes, betokening a strong will and earnest thought, who, 
 though a graduate of high degree, has fled from his 
 home, and left the shame of his wife behind him, to 
 nurse his bitter sorrow apart from the gaze of the world. 
 At his side a man who has almost completed his century 
 of life, bent down with years, allowed to wear long hair 
 and beard because the monkish habit of being shaved 
 is a burden to him, totters along with feeble steps, 
 looking as though he were a biped brought out of the 
 Buddhist menagerie. For the rest, though of many 
 types, they have for the most part the hard, unreligious, 
 careless, unthinking, and even despairing faces of men 
 who seem to have bidden farewell to every human 
 interest, not for this world only, but also for the next. It 
 is a group of faces strange enough to haunt one’s dreams. 
 
 The cremation furnace is a narrow brick construction 
 let into the side of the hill, from whence the earth had 
 been dug to form the platform on which we stood. It 
 looked like a very little house with a very large door. 
 For some reason which I could not discover, the'coffin 
 was not put into the furnace, but stood about eight feet 
 in front of it. The monks arranged themselves in lines 
 opposite to it. Cash paper was again sprinkled round 
 to make all right with the spirit-world, and incense 
 sticks were burned at a small shrine that half faced the 
 furnace. Then the service commenced. The officiating 
 priest took his stand in front of the coffin, and was 
 
200 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 supported on each side by acolytes and singers. Bells 
 tinkled, gongs resounded, and a monotonous but sweet 
 chant was sung. The whole company prostrated 
 themselves several times to worship the spirit of the 
 departed man. The pall was then removed, and there 
 was revealed a box like a section of the funnel of a 
 steamship, five feet in height and two in diameter, 
 tarred profusely within and without. The singing and 
 bell-ringing and gong-beating having ceased while the 
 pall was taken away, the solemnity of silence fell on 
 this part of the proceedings. The monks then rose from 
 the ground, where they lay on knees and elbows, closed 
 their eyes, placed their hands as in prayer, with the 
 tips of the fingers touching, and recommenced singing. 
 The words are still Sanscrit, and the singers have no 
 idea what the meaning is, but they believe there is 
 great merit in the use of the sounds. The chant is still 
 a monotone, and very rapid. One note repeated 
 
 Presto 
 
 
 5 
 
 T? 
 
 
 rH^-sa- 
 
 
 
 u 
 
 at an even pace nine times, varied with grace notes at 
 every tenth beat, did not give one a very high opinion 
 of the musical talent of Buddhist priests; but being 
 sung in the open air, and mellowed by the sighing of 
 the wind through the pine trees, it was far from 
 disagreeable. Even the sweetest song, however, will 
 satiate the ear if continued too long, and so we found 
 after this one had been tum-tummed by a hundred 
 monks for more than fifteen minutes. 
 
 After that space of time the sexton came forward 
 
CREMATION OF A BUDDHIST PRIEST. 
 
 201 
 
 with a hatchet and knocked off the round lid of the 
 coffin, and those in a favourable position could see the 
 corpse sitting upright in its narrow tabernacle. A 
 bamboo pole about fifteen feet long was then brought, and 
 a quantity of long thin strips of pine-wood bound round 
 one end, until it looked like a gigantic garden -broom. 
 
 Setting fire to this, the sexton presented the monstrous 
 torch to the priest conducting the service. All again 
 prostrated themselves, and the torch was waved a few 
 times before the coffin and returned to the sexton, who 
 dropped the blazing mass into the coffin and heaped 
 dry pieces of pine- wood upon it. Through a hole near 
 the bottom of the box a strong draught fanned the 
 flames, and in a few moments a great blaze was issuing 
 from it with considerable noise. The coffin must have 
 been of very solid materials, for although the heat was 
 so great that, except when the wind blew the flames 
 and heated air aside, we could not venture close to see 
 how the body was being burned, it was not so consumed 
 as to fall to pieces and expose the charred corpse. 
 
 From beginning to end there was nothing whatever 
 that could be called disagreeable about the performance. 
 It is true we saw the blackened body sitting in the 
 flames, but it was because we went to see it. The 
 monks, too, could not resist the feeling of curiosity 
 concerning the fate of the fleshly tabernacle of their 
 late comrade, and a few of them mounted on the hill- 
 side to look down into the flames. But still I think 
 the most sensitive nature would have seen nothing in 
 the whole ceremony of cremation with which to be in 
 any degree offended. 
 
 The service occupied about half-an-hour, and the 
 burning ten minutes. At the end of that time the 
 
202 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA . 
 
 flames had sunk down, and it was evident they had 
 done their work. Those of the monks who had waited 
 to witness the cremation strolled away in the same 
 leisurely fashion as they came, and joined the rest of 
 the fraternity, who were waiting for them at the junction 
 of the roads. The undertaker, as we should call him, 
 was here paying each monk for the trouble of attending 
 and assisting with his prayers. Each man received 
 the sum of forty cash — twopence of English money. 
 The smallness of the amount may seem to suggest that 
 the whole affair is very inexpensive ; but the contrary 
 is usually the fact, the numerous items of expenditure 
 attending cremation often reaching a total outlay of 
 100,000 cash (say £18 English), which is an immense 
 sum to a Chinaman. 
 
 Later in the day we returned to the spot, to see what 
 had happened to the cremated monk. The ashes had 
 been collected, placed in an earthen jar, and carried to 
 a neighbouring shed, where the jar adorned a shelf 
 already heavily laden with monks who had previously 
 been potted in the same way. We visited this receptacle 
 for the ashes of Buddhist devotees, and were amazed 
 to find it a most dilapidated and disreputable hut, about 
 five and a half feet high. The door was held fast by 
 an ingenious combination of chips of wood and broken 
 tiles. As we opened it we had to be careful that it did 
 not fall off its hinges. The interior was as dirty as any 
 Chinaman could desire, and almost absolutely without 
 order or arrangement. I took a fancy to the idea of 
 cremation until I thought of myself as a Kushan monk, 
 stowed away in a twopenny pot, in a broken-down shed 
 unfit to keep pigs in, and without so much as a number to 
 show which was me ! It spoils my grammar to think of it ! 
 
LONDON MISSION HOUSE, AMOST. 
 
THE MISSIONARY AT WORK. 
 
 205 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE MISSIONARY AT WORK. 
 
 Many good people in England have an idea that the 
 missionary is always preaching. It is as incorrect to 
 suppose he is always preaching as that he disports 
 himself in broadcloth. For, first, he could not do it if 
 he would, and, secondly, he would not do it if he could. 
 He must observe times and seasons quite as much in a 
 heathen land as he would in this country, in order to 
 adapt himself to the hours of leisure of the people ; and 
 the heat of the weather through a great part of the 
 year makes it impossible to continue preaching for more 
 than two hours at most in the day. But, by the side 
 of the impossibility of it must be placed the inutility 
 of so much preaching to the heathen by the foreign 
 missionary. Experience has shown that the practical 
 result following from preaching by Europeans is so 
 extremely small that many missionaries feel it to be a 
 duty to expend their energies in some other direction 
 than in preaching to a crowd. An American gentleman 
 in Canton had an audience of several hundred Chinese 
 every day for nineteen years, but he declared he had 
 never heard of one convert from all his preaching in 
 
20 6 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 public. An English gentleman in Canton told the 
 writer that he had preached to a similar audience for 
 twelve years, almost without omitting a day, and he 
 too said he could not point to one convert as the result 
 of such sustained efforts. It is true we may not speak 
 of these labours as wasted. No doubt a foundation has 
 been laid in multitudes of minds for the fair super- 
 structure of a pure Christian faith. One is also almost 
 tempted to add that it was worth while that these 
 devoted brethren should spend their strength and time 
 for so long in order to prove to their juniors and 
 successors the comparative uselessness of such methods 
 of evangelizing. It is not too much to say that it 
 would be better to seek out privately one here and 
 another there, and to instruct them one at a time, 
 to pray with and for them singly, than to address 
 audiences of hundreds of heathen. So well is this now 
 being recognized, that there are many missionaries who 
 scarcely ever preach to the heathen at all. A few here 
 and there who greatly love talking continue to do so, 
 but for the most part the * messengers of the churches ’ 
 devote themselves to the building up of the congre- 
 gations already formed, and leave the aggressive 
 evangelistic work to the native brethren. The work of 
 the missionary in China is to-day rather episcopal and 
 professorial than evangelistic. He may have five, ten, 
 or twenty churches under his episcopal oversight. To 
 visit them in order on the Sabbaths, to look after the 
 evangelists and pastors in charge, to examine the 
 catechumens, to attend to a hundred and one matters 
 of business connected with these young churches, and 
 on each week-day to spend a few hours with the 
 students in training for the ministry, so fills up one’s 
 
THE MISSIONARY AT WORK. 
 
 20 7 
 
 time as to leave only an occasional hour here and 
 there during the week for literary work, in writing or 
 translating in the native tongue. 
 
 A man who loves his work, however, and on whom 
 rests the burden of souls, will not readily let slip an 
 opportunity of talking of Christ to the heathen. The 
 banyan tree in the village often makes a good pulpit 
 as well as a seat, and a dozen people may easily be 
 induced to listen for half-an-hour to the one theme of 
 the missionary. Inside an idol temple an attentive 
 audience can not unfrequently be secured; and it is 
 decidedly exhilarating to preach of the living and true 
 God in the presence of gods of mud and wood. I have 
 often read of missionaries preaching in a market-place, 
 but I never yet saw a suitable opportunity. ‘ Market- 
 place’ may mean in other lands what it does not in 
 China. Standing in the narrow space with one’s back 
 to a wall, addressing an excitable crowd of men brimming 
 over with curiosity, their souls steeped in thoughts of 
 worldly gain, and a perfect Babel of cries, shouts, dis- 
 cussion, and beating of gongs and bells drowning one’s 
 speech, the congregation in the market-place is seen to be 
 one to be avoided rather than sought. For the foreigner 
 it is peculiarly undesirable. The eyes, not the ears, of 
 his ‘ hearers ’ are open. Scarcely a man of them all is 
 listening to a word he says. The hope of the churches 
 is rather in its Nicodemuses, who come at first by night, 
 but afterwards defend Christ openly before the rulers as 
 well as before the common people. 
 
 It needs sometimes a great deal of discretion to avoid 
 giving needless offence in speaking of idolatry and 
 superstition. As a rule there are few things the 
 Chinaman enjoys more than to hear fun poked at his 
 
208 everyday life in china. 
 
 gods. As the preacher pictures the absurdity of idol- 
 atry, his audience laugh till they hold their sides and 
 shout, ‘It is all true.’ ‘Then why do you worship 
 them V ‘ It is the custom of our ancestral land, 
 teacher/ But it is not always safe to be so plain, and 
 perhaps it is seldom wise to be humorous. Satire 
 may create bitterness towards the preacher, and defeat 
 the end he has in view. 
 
 On one occasion I was crossing some hills, and came 
 to a lonely hut by the side of the path. There was a 
 stone seat near the door on which my two Chinese 
 companions and I sat down to rest awhile. Hearing 
 voices I went to the hut door, and saw that it contained 
 only two persons, a man whose head was being shaved, 
 and the barber who was performing the operation. 
 After greeting I went in, and noticed at the end of the 
 room a large heap of parts of idols. Heads, legs, arms, 
 were piled together without any order. The sight 
 struck me as most ludicrous, and I began to say to the 
 barber, whom I took to be the tenant of the house, that 
 lie should try how this head would look on that body, 
 or this leg by the side of that leg, and so on. I also 
 asked him whether he had heard the proverb, ‘In 
 three generations idol-makers have no posterity/ The 
 barber, a jovial-looking man, joined in the fun till the 
 head of his victim seemed to be endangered. But 
 happening to look the latter in the face, I saw that his 
 eyes were flashing fiercely, his teeth were set, and his 
 hands clenched. In a moment I saw the mistake I had 
 made. I had been speaking to the wrong man. The 
 solitary repairer of idols was not the merry barber, but 
 the morose and passionate man sitting on the box. I 
 did my best to apologize, but he treated me very coldly 
 
THE MISSIONARY AT WORK. \ 20 9 
 
 when, three days after, I tried to speak to him more 
 soberly on the same theme. 
 
 Preaching to the heathen inside a chapel is very 
 different to preaching in the open air. It is necessary 
 to plunge at once in medias res. There must be no 
 singing, for the heathen cannot join in it, and do not 
 understand the aim of it ; and there must be no prayer, 
 for the heathen have a very gruesome fear of Christian 
 prayers, and will sometimes precipitately leave the 
 building. As a rule, the smaller the audience the more 
 useful the preaching. With a small number it is much 
 easier to converse freely, to ask questions and obtain 
 replies. 
 
 A very general method of arranging a daily preaching 
 service is to place a chair upon a small platform a few 
 paces from the door. A gong is then struck to call 
 passers-by to come in. Some missionaries continue the 
 objectionable practice of singing a hymn to attract an 
 audience. Presently two or three very much astonished 
 men come to the door and look round. They are invited 
 to be seated, and informed that the doctrine is about to 
 be spoken. The preaching begins then and there with 
 the conversation with the first comers. Others come 
 in after a time. The congregation is a movable one, 
 and will prove very much so indeed unless the preacher 
 asks a few questions, and creates a discussion. Dearly 
 does the Chinaman love an argument, and perhaps 
 better still does he love to hear one, and to be allowed 
 to thrust in a word now and then without committing 
 himself. A good-humoured, temperate conversation is 
 the best style of preaching to such an audience. 
 
 The position of the pulpit and the arrangements of 
 the seats in a Christian chapel are what strike the 
 
 P 
 
210 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 attention of a stranger immediately on entering. Tn 
 many places, as, for instance, the Amoy and Foochow 
 districts, the pulpit-platform stands one-third down from 
 the end of the chapel opposite the door. A screen of 
 wood or bamboo surrounds it on three sides, and is 
 continued from the pulpit to the walls on either hand. 
 The screen thus shuts off one-third of the chapel from 
 the other two-thirds. The smaller space behind the 
 preacher is devoted to the women, the larger space in 
 front is occupied by men only. In Canton a screen six 
 feet high is placed along the middle of the chapel, so 
 that, while the preacher faces all, the sexes are completely 
 separated. In Shanghai, Ningpo, and many northerly 
 places no such arrangement is necessary. The two 
 sexes only occupy different sides of the chapel. The 
 location of the women behind the pulpit is the least 
 satisfactory of all. It is not possible to retain their 
 attention as readily as if they were in view of the 
 preacher, and they think themselves at liberty to he as 
 inattentive as they please because they are not seen by 
 the general congregation. They talk to one another 
 and to their babies to a degree that is perfectly distracting 
 to the minister. Half-a-dozen times in the course of a 
 sermon the writer has been obliged to turn round, and 
 say in various tones of entreaty or command, ‘ Women, 
 be silent ; do not talk, hut listen to the doctrine/ 
 
 This separation of the sexes in the chapels is very 
 necessary. It is intended to disarm the calumnious 
 reports of the enemy. Methods of preventing the 
 circulation of malicious statements by the heathen 
 vary according to localities. In the north and extreme 
 south the doors are shut at the Lord’s Supper, and in 
 many cases at the ordinary services. In the Fuh-kien 
 
THE MISSIONARY AT WORK. 
 
 21 3 
 
 province, as a rule, such a plan would be generally 
 dangerous, and always undesirable. All sorts of dis- 
 graceful rumours would be set afloat. To obviate this 
 difficulty, some of the chapels have barred windows 
 without glass by the side of the entrance door, so that 
 even when the door is closed against all but com- 
 municants it is still possible for the outside public to 
 observe what is going on. It is impossible to be too 
 careful to forestall suspicions. In catechizing a woman 
 in the presence of the whole assembly it is just as well 
 to call up the senior deacon to put the questions and 
 to receive her replies. There is not a creature more 
 fond of a bit of scandal than the Chinaman — except 
 the Chinawoman. 
 
 In some respects the behaviour of the native brethren 
 in their own places of worship would strike one 
 accustomed to the staid propriety of our own assemblies 
 as rather too free and easy. It results largely from 
 the fact that most of the chapels have no school-room 
 or extensive waiting-room. The congregations come 
 together from miles around, and spend the day at the 
 chapel. Consequently, if there is no waiting-room 
 attached to the building, the mid-day rice must be 
 eaten in the chapel — no great offence, as some of us 
 think, who believe that the house of prayer was made 
 for man, and not man for the house of prayer. 
 
 But at the services the people sometimes behave in the 
 oddest way. In the middle of the sermon a man will 
 rise to his feet most leisurely, stretch out his arms, give 
 a long and loud yawn, and sit down again with a look of 
 quiet satisfaction, and not one of the congregation will 
 so much as smile. Or, another may desire to scratch 
 himself elaborately, — perhaps even to search for the 
 
212 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 cause of irritation, and he will do so very obviously. 
 We have seen men get up during service, go to the 
 waiting-room, strike flint and steel, light a pipe, and 
 after an absence of three or four minutes return to their 
 place as though nothing had happened. More curious 
 than all may seem the fact that the writer, being 
 admitted as a guest to a meeting of some eighty church 
 members, found them almost all smoking during the 
 discussipns and addresses. When the missionary said, 
 * Let us kneel down to pray to our Heavenly Father/ 
 they knocked the ashes out of their pipes, and when 
 they rose from prayer many of them immediately re-lit 
 their pipes. This must not be put down to irreverence, 
 but to simplicity. They would see no more harm in 
 yawning than in coughing, — no more disrespect in 
 having a pipe than in drinking a cup of tea within the 
 walls of a church. 
 
 So far from their intending to show any lack of 
 respect to the building in which they worship God, 
 they are rather jealous of its honour. A considerable 
 debate took place in the principal Congregational 
 church of Amoy some years ago because rubbish and 
 drainage were carried through the building from a house 
 at the back. It was regarded as a serious affront to the 
 house of God. In the same chapel I once saw a curious 
 thing done. While I was preaching a stranger came in 
 with his queue coiled round his head in coolie fashion. 
 In his amazement at seeing a foreigner talking he 
 strolled half up the aisle. One of the deacons sitting 
 facing the congregation precipitately darted down the 
 aisle, and struck the man’s queue off his head. The 
 stranger’s astonishment was a sight to see. From the 
 Chinese point of view he had been guilty of great lack 
 
THE MISSIONARY AT WORK. 
 
 213 
 
 of courtesy.; for Chinese manners demand that a coolie 
 shall let his queue down on entering the presence of 
 the idols, or on speaking to his superiors ; and in like 
 manner he should have uncoiled it on entering a 
 Christian place of worship. 
 
 The number of persons who enter during service 
 with no other object than to look on for a while is 
 something of a distraction to both minister and con- 
 gregation. The singing of a hymn will bring them in 
 considerable numbers. They remain a few moments 
 and gradually thin off. Some of the more curious make 
 their way almost to the pulpit. The deacons thereupon 
 request them to be seated, or to retire to the back. 
 
 Very many of these occasional visitors are interested 
 in Christianity, and they especially need to be dealt 
 with courteously and kindly. As an illustration of this 
 fact, and of the strange interruptions to which a religious 
 service in China is liable, I will relate an incident that 
 occurred at one of our country chapels situated in a 
 very lonely place under a group of banyan trees by the 
 side of an important highway. During sermon a 
 sedan-chair stopped at the door, and a gentleman about 
 fifty-five years of age descended, came to the door of 
 the chapel, walked up to my side, and stood listening 
 for perhaps five minutes or so. Then he began to 
 mutter words of approval, and when I ceased shortly 
 afterwards he said, * Good, good ; may I say a few 
 words ? ’ Whatever he might say, I was sure it could 
 do no one any harm, and might do good, so I told him 
 we should be happy to hear him. He then gave an 
 address of perhaps seven minutes’ duration, the burden 
 of which was that we foreigners were in the right ; there 
 was no other God except the ‘ Lord of Heaven,’ and no 
 
214 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA . 
 
 hope of our souls continuing to live except by the 
 favour of the * Saving Lord/ He urged the congrega- 
 tion to be faithful in their attachment to the ‘ Lord of 
 Heaven/ We thanked him for his words, sang a hymn, 
 to which he listened, but when I opened my eyes after 
 the benediction he was gone, and his chair too. We 
 ran to the door, but the chair had turned the corner, 
 and we saw him no more. From certain modes of 
 expression we guessed he was a Cantonese Roman 
 Catholic, but his brief visit made a great impression on 
 the little assembly. 
 
 There are doubtless a vast number of persons who 
 are not tabulated and scheduled as Christians who 
 nevertheless, by the grace of God, 4 do justly, love mercy, 
 and walk humbly with their God/ Many too are they 
 who are ‘not far from the kingdom of God/ They are 
 met with occasionally by Christian teachers. Their 
 hearts seem to have been strangely prepared, so that 
 they ‘ receive with meekness the engrafted word/ 
 There came one day to a chapel in a country town a 
 middle-aged man named Tong. He was giving away 
 tracts published by a Buddhist Tract Society. The 
 particular kind that he had in his hand at the moment 
 was a yellow leaflet with fourteen sentences, exhorting 
 men to righteousness of life. From the Christian point 
 of view the only fault of the tract was in what it lacked, 
 not in what it contained. The preacher in charge was 
 Sok-tai, a man who for thirty years has preached the 
 Gospel faithfully in the Amoy region in connection 
 with the London Missionary Society. Said Sok-tai, 
 
 ‘ What is this V ‘It tells of the will of Heaven/ ‘ Why 
 do you give these away?’ I am heaping up merit/ 
 ‘Come and sit down, and drink some tea, and I will 
 
THE MISSIONARY AT WORK. 
 
 215 
 
 tell you liow to win merit in the sight of Heaven.’ 
 Sok-tai expounded the Christian faith to him, and the 
 Buddhist Tong accepted the truth as a little child, and 
 was soon baptized. 
 
 I met with another similar case, if possible still 
 more striking. At a village about thirty miles from 
 Amoy I had arranged to expound Christian doctrine in 
 a set form every evening for a week. On the Monday 
 morning I had visited some villages round to invite 
 people to come, and in the afternoon was sitting at the 
 door of the chapel, when a man named Chew happened 
 to pass by. I knew the man by sight, and had heard 
 a good deal about him. The neighbours said he never 
 sinned at all. They had been known to object to the 
 teaching of the preacher in charge, who held that all 
 men were sinners, and they instanced Mr. Chew. I 
 called to him, ‘Chew, my elder brother, have you 
 leisure ? ’ ‘ Yes, I have leisure, teacher.’ ‘ Come and 
 
 sit down, and let us talk.’ Wishing to disarm his 
 opposition to Christianity, I began on other topics. We 
 talked of Western countries, the bigness of London, 
 the Crystal Palace, the underground railway, the 
 quantity of coal in China, the phases of the moon, 
 comets and eclipses; in fact, I sought to excite the 
 man’s astonishment and awe as much as possible. It 
 was not long before he began to hold up his hands in 
 wonder, and under his breath I heard him mutter, 
 ‘ Our fathers never told us these things. These 
 foreigners, how learned ! Can it be so ? ’ I begged 
 him to come and hear greater things than these at 
 the even'ng meeting. We were a little company 
 sitting round a table at the door. Chew came and 
 stood on the door-step, and peeped in to see and 
 
216 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 listen. On Tuesday we were in the same place, but 
 Chew stood inside. On Wednesday so many people 
 came that we moved to the communion-table. Chew 
 stood in the dark near the door. On Thursday he 
 came further forward, on Friday nearer still, and on 
 Saturday he sat at my right hand. The next day he 
 attended both services, and was baptized within five 
 months afterwards. The neighbours had testified to 
 his faultless life, and the simplicity with which he 
 accepted the faith proved that the preparation of his 
 heart was from the Lord. 
 
 One of the chief difficulties of the Christian mis- 
 sionary in dealing with a people like the Chinese is 
 that they have no consciousness of sin. Their sages 
 have told them that all men have a * good heart/ and 
 they believe it. They speak of lying, lust, or theft as 
 though these were mere failings or weaknesses, not as 
 offences against a just and holy God. There is no 
 doubt that many of them do not so much as suppose 
 that gross sin stains the soul at all. The ‘ good heart ' 
 remains good notwithstanding any amount of wrong- 
 doing:. This lack of the sense of sin renders them 
 quite apathetic in regard to religion. They are 
 willing to belong to any or all faiths. In Fuh-kien, if 
 a man is asked to what faith he belongs, he will 
 commonly reply, ‘ Ju, To, Hut/ That is, he professes 
 to belong: to the three great sects, the Confucian, the 
 Taouist, and the Buddhist. No amount of casuistry 
 could make these creeds agree with one another, but 
 the easy-going, complacent Chinaman takes them over 
 in the lump as the national creeds, and professes loyalty 
 to all. In a similar spirit they readily assent to what 
 the preacher says. A novice at preaching is constantly 
 
THE MISSIONARY AT WORK. 
 
 217 
 
 delighted with the degree of their approval of the 
 doctrine and his manner of presenting it ; but more 
 experience reveals the fact that attention to the 
 customary courtesies and disregard of real personal 
 interest in religious questions inspire nine-tenths of 
 the praises he receives. And in the same spirit, again, 
 not a few have been known to say of Jesus, ‘ We have 
 no objection to Him you call Jesus. He is your chief 
 Western sage. Every country has its sages. Let us 
 reverence Confucius, and do you reverence Jesus, and 
 let us be brothers/ They go further sometimes, and 
 add, ‘We are willing to worship Jesus, if it is worth 
 while. Make an image of Jesus, and put Him by the 
 side of our gods. We will bow down to Him as we do 
 to them. Doubtless He was good/ The sense of sin 
 and the need of atonement do not enter into their 
 conception of religion. The ‘ good heart * and the 
 ‘proprieties’ are the sum-total of all that is needed 
 in man. One may add, that in this delusion they are 
 no further astray than certain philosophers and professed 
 admirers of Christ among ourselves, who would resolve 
 all sin into a breach of good taste and good humour. 
 
 Referring to the conduct of Divine worship in the 
 Chinese chapels, it is worth while to refer to the 
 liymnology and singing. A very great advance has 
 been made in these matters during the last ten years. 
 Every mission has its own hymn-book, or has united 
 with some sister mission in receiving a book already 
 compiled. Many of these are very elaborate compilations, 
 and not a few have the musical score printed on the 
 same page. Of necessity the earlier hymns are com- 
 pendiums of theology. Christian doctrine has been 
 taught as much by the hymns as by the Bible. When 
 
218 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 the book is not too large the whole of it is soon 
 committed to memory by the children of Christian 
 schools, and even by the uneducated adult members 
 of the churches. The singing, however, is a grief to 
 the sesthetic ear. It is abundant in volume, but 
 deficient in quality. Chinese music has a character 
 quite its own ; but what forces itself most upon the 
 notice of the foreign musician is their avoidance of 
 all fourths and sevenths , and the singing of another note 
 (generally a repetition of the one before the changed 
 note) instead of a fourth or seventh. In introducing 
 new tunes, therefore, it is desirable that care be taken 
 to select tunes with no fourths or sevenths, or as few 
 as possible. That young persons can be taught to sing 
 in Western fashion is proved by the success attending 
 singing classes in schools. An adaptation of the sol-fa 
 system was used with great success by the late Rev. 
 Dr. Carstairs Douglas, to whose earnest efforts is largely 
 due the fact that the psalmody in Amoy and neighbour- 
 hood is said to be incomparably the best in China. 
 Some trouble ought to be taken to introduce as many 
 native tunes, or adaptations of them, as possible. A 
 few collected by the writer became great favourites 
 with his Chinese friends. The use of them is in some 
 cases open to the objection that they are sung in 
 idolatrous worship and in bad plays, but a similar 
 objection was taken to the introduction by the Wesleys 
 of more cheerful tunes than our Puritan ancestors 
 indulged in. The Christian Church in China is going to 
 be Chinese, and not English or American; and the more 
 completely it adapts itself to the native taste and habits, 
 in its organization, its church buildings, and its psalmody, 
 the more will its life and energy be developed. 
 
THE MISSIONARY AT WORK. 
 
 219 
 
 While upon this subject it may not be uninteresting 
 if I give a few specimens of Chinese tunes. In travelling 
 about the country I made a persistent search for native 
 tunes that might be adapted in some way to the neces- 
 sities of hymnology. A vast number of melodies may be 
 collected as mere samples of Chinese music, but my aim 
 was only to utilize native airs in Christian worship. 
 Most of them are so rapid and eccentric that it is almost 
 impossible to trace an idea of any kind in them, although 
 considerable practice in listening does eventually reveal 
 a subtle thread of thought running through most of 
 the popular airs. Merely as illustrations of the kind 
 of tunes one hears of an evening, played on violin, 
 guitar, or flageolet, two melodies are here introduced. 
 The first is one which Barrow calls * Moo-lee-wha/ 
 and reports as * one of the most popular songs in the 
 whole country/ 
 
 > A native preacher who had often assisted me in 
 musical matters brought me the next tune, which he 
 had written in the Chinese adaptation of the sol-fa 
 
220 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 notation. He was at the time resident in Changchow, 
 and said it was the music of one of the best-known 
 songs there. 
 
 Spirited. 
 
 
 
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 3=E 
 
 The following melody was the only one I ever heard 
 played by a band. The mission station of Chioh-boe> 
 near Amoy, is up a creek, very muddy and empty at 
 low tide. The mission boat lies on the mud, and must 
 needs have a long plank to form a bridge to shore. 
 Houses of various descriptions are on either bank, and 
 from these the sweet strains of Chinese music are 
 frequently heard. At no other place did I hear music 
 as well performed as in this wretched little town. One 
 Saturday afternoon, as I sat in the boat, a number of 
 instruments began to play in a shed on the bank further 
 from the mission boat. Attracted by the sound, I made 
 my way round a little distance until I reached the 
 shed, and saw four gifted musicians, unwashed, very 
 ragged, sitting on pails turned upside down. One 
 flageolet, two violins, and a guitar were the instruments 
 with which they discoursed as follows: 
 
THE MISSIONARY AT WORK. 
 
 221 
 
 Andante. 
 
 A colporteur at Chinchew sang me the next tune, 
 saying he had learned it from a man who had lived in 
 Formosa, and who, in his turn, had heard it sung by 
 the Pepuhoan, or aboriginal savage race that occupies 
 the eastern side of Formosa. They were reported as 
 singing it very softly and with much feeling. I adapted 
 it to the Amoy hymn, Lan lang si-mia n bo tia n -tioh 
 (Our life is all uncertain), and it very soon became an 
 established favourite, and was commonly sung at 
 funerals. 
 
 . Largo. . 
 
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222 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 A friend in Canton, an eminent scholar in Chinese, 
 gave me the tune ‘ Wong-ho/ which follows. It was 
 composed as an illustration of the style of native music, 
 and for use in the Christian chapels. It is a popular 
 sevens, to which the hymn ‘ Let us with a gladsome 
 mind ’ is often sung. 
 
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 — | h 
 
 
 
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 The next tune is one sung all over Fuli-kien to a hymn 
 in praise of ancestors. It is in three parts. At every 
 fourth note there is an indefinable pause of half a beat 
 or so, which I think can best be expressed by a staccato 
 pointing. 
 
THE MISSIONARY AT WORK. 
 
 223 
 
 J 
 
 Second Part. 
 
 ! 
 
 
 r J 
 
 ~w — — h 
 
 1 
 
 A i 
 
 
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 spE 
 
 against tunes sung by native Christians, lest they 
 should turn out to be only foreign melodies tortured 
 into a Chinese style, I will give an air that I picked up 
 from a baggage-bearer in the country west of Foochow. 
 This man had been in the habit of frequenting a 
 Christian chapel, and was fond of singing. I heard him 
 often sing the tune as written, and I put it down, 
 thinking it treasure-trove. The man himself assured 
 me it was native and generally familiar, yet it proved 
 to be only an American air that had almost lost its 
 individuality through its Chinese dressing. 
 
 Allegro. 
 
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 -7 — - 
 
 4* 
 
 3^ 
 
 
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224 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN' CHINA . 
 
 The study of Chinese music is exceedingly interesting, 
 and the wonder is that more attention is not given to 
 
 O 
 
 it. Native tunes would be very popular in Christian 
 services. It is true that many of them immediately 
 suggest songs that are anything but proper; but that 
 was the case at the time that Wesley recovered some of 
 our best English sacred melodies out of the snares of 
 the devil and Christianized them. After a short time 
 they would become familiar in their religious form, and 
 would be a great help in evangelizing. The Christian 
 Church in China is already too foreign in its outward 
 aspects, and anything that could assimilate it with good 
 native sentiment would be an advantage. 
 
 There are very few Sunday-schools in connection with 
 the Chinese churches. In the boarding-schools for boys 
 and girls religious instruction is, of course, given on Sun- 
 days, but schools conducted like our own Sunday-schools 
 are very rare. There are several reasons for this. Up to 
 the present time it has been difficult to find a sufficient 
 number of intelligent and pious men at leisure from 
 other Christian work to act as teachers; the times of 
 public worship — from nine to ten in the morning, and 
 half-past one to three in the afternoon — make it any- 
 thing but easy to arrange an hour for the children, 
 especially when the congregation comes from long 
 distances around, and the chapels are so particularly 
 open to the public that a school of children would be 
 very much disturbed. Under these circumstances the 
 pastors lay great stress upon the Sunday afternoon 
 catechizing of the children after public service. 
 
 It should be added that another hindrance to school 
 teaching is the fact that (in the Fuh-kien province at 
 least) so few children have mastered more than a few 
 
THE MISSIONARY AT WORK. 225 
 
 characters, and hardly any of the men from the country 
 districts can read six consecutive characters. Under 
 these circumstances it is a matter for congratulation 
 that the missionaries in Amoy, Ningpo, Shanghai, and 
 many other places have reduced large portions of the 
 Bible to the Roman letter. These transcriptions are 
 called Romanized versions. The complete New Testa- 
 ment, the Psalms and many portions of the Old 
 Testament, hymn-books, the Pilgrims Progress , cate- 
 chisms, school-books, and a variety of other publications 
 have long been in use at many of the missionary 
 stations. The aim of the transcribers at first was to 
 help the women to read, and to provide an easy path to 
 knowledge for such of the men as were hopelessly 
 behindhand in education. After many years’ experience, 
 however, it is felt by those who have fully tested the 
 value of the Romanized versions that they are extremely 
 useful, not only to the uo educated adults, but to all 
 classes. These books are a most important factor in the 
 mission work. A new missionary fresh from England 
 can, with their assistance, readily master the difficulties 
 of one of the spoken languages in from eight to twelve 
 months, so as to make himself fairly well understood 
 in preaching. The women in the Bible-class of a 
 missionary’s wife often read perfectly in six months at 
 the rate of one lesson a week. To test the facility of 
 learning the Roman letter, I taught my table- servant, 
 a man of only average capacity. In thirty-five days he 
 read with more fluency than myself, and of course with 
 greater accuracy; and in a somewhat longer time he 
 learned to write in the same style. The fact that 
 persons who have mastered the enormous difficulty of 
 reading and writing the written language of China 
 
 Q 
 
226 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 despise in no stinted measure these Romanized versions 
 ought not to deter missionaries from printing the books, 
 nor the native brethren from using them. One soul 
 instructed outweighs a thousand sneers. That it is 
 not a ‘ respectable ’ thing to read Chinese in Roman 
 letter, as some good brethren assert, is a very carnal 
 objection. The foolish things of the world do still, as 
 of old, confound the wise ; and the weak things, and 
 things that are despised, have still a knack, as in Paul’s 
 day, of giving to carnal judgments a shock of surprise 
 by their evident vitality and efficiency. 
 
OUR CHINESE BRETHREN IN CHRIST 227 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 OUR CHINESE BRETHREN IN CHRIST. 
 
 Calling upon a well-known missionary who was 
 about to return to his station in China, I asked him 
 how he ha l got along among the churches in England 
 as a ‘ missionary deputation.’ ‘ Pretty comfortably,’ he 
 said, ‘ but the churches of this country are so dead ; 
 they are not like our Chinese churches.’ 
 
 The pleasing delusion cherished by the supporters of 
 foreign missions that a missionary comes home to be 
 spiritually refreshed has about as much justification for 
 its existence as that he comes home to rest. As for the 
 latter, by the end of his furlough, if he is an acceptable 
 speaker, he sorely needs the rest which a few weeks’ 
 voyage by sea may possibly give him on his return 
 journey. And as for the former, there are few 
 missionaries but would agree that there is more 
 evidence of spiritual vitality among the converts 
 gathered in the mission churches than among the 
 members of churches in England. Much as our brethren 
 abroad may lament that there is no larger measure of self- 
 denial and active zeal in their own churches, comparison 
 with average English congregations leaves the balance of 
 satisfaction on the side of the converts from heathenism. 
 
 The quality of the converts made by any evangelistic 
 
228 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 agency is a question that deserves to be examined and 
 considered with orreat care. In the following remarks 
 it should be understood that I speak only of the people 
 of the Fuh-kien province of China. The Chinese 
 nation consists of many races, which have retained their 
 special characteristics, as the result of geographical 
 isolation ; or in some cases the same original race, under 
 the influence of climatic and geographical differences, 
 have developed very divergent traits of character. The 
 native of Canton is a foreigner to his brother of Amo} r , 
 
 REPRESENTATIVE DEACONS. 
 
 not only in language, but in disposition : and the Ningpo 
 man is as far removed from a Foochowese as the man 
 of Kent is from the Highlander. It is not therefore to 
 be expected that, when converted to the truth as it is in 
 Christ, all the churches would be of a similar type in 
 simplicity, spirituality, and zeal. 
 
 One of the best tests of the earnestness of the church 
 members is their liberality in supporting the ordinances 
 of religion. There are two things that make this a fair 
 test : first, their natural love of money ; and secondly, 
 the small sums which they are accustomed to handle. 
 
 It is charged upon ourselves, particularly by our 
 French neighbours, that we are ‘a nation of shop- 
 keepers/ and that the covetous and perfidious Briton 
 
OUR CHINESE BRETHREN IN CHRIST. 229 
 
 would sell his chance of heaven for a few pounds more 
 or less. It must be confessed that there is some ground 
 for calling us a money-loving people, though we do not 
 go so far as to worship 4 the Almighty Dollar.’ But we 
 are nowhere in point of greed of gain when compared 
 with the Chinaman. The love of cask is truly a root of 
 all kinds of evil. The endeavour to obtain it absorbs 
 his thought and energy. Nine-tenths of all the 
 conversation that takes place in or out of doors relates 
 more or less directly to the everlasting topic — cask. If 
 a long file of men are walking along a narrow path 
 through the fields, they shout to one another their cask 
 calculations. If a quarrel is going on in a house, in a 
 shop, in the field, in the market, you know without 
 listening that the subject is cask. Surely their dreams 
 must be principally about cask. 
 
 The cask is a bronze coin, worth on an average one- 
 tenth of a penny, and is the only native coinage of 
 China. By means of a square hole in the centre of the 
 coins they are strung into thousands. A stout piece of 
 twine, rather more than a yard long, is knotted in the 
 centre. The coins are then passed on from both ends. 
 When a hundred are on each side of the knot a half- 
 knot is made with the string, and two more hundreds 
 are passed on. This is repeated until the string contains 
 a thousand cash, making a double row of five hundreds. 
 If the cash are good the string is now worth a Mexican 
 dollar of the value of 3s. 9 d., or thereabout. In Amoy 
 1120 of these cash are usually reckoned to the dollar. 
 
 The struggle for existence is so great in many 
 populous parts of China, that the whole energy of the 
 active brains of a native who knows not God is devoted 
 to the absorbing pursuit of small sums of money. An 
 
230 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 agricultural labourer earns from 50 to 80 cash, or from 
 2 J d. to M., a day. A skilled artizan, such as a carpenter, 
 stone-worker, house-painter, &c., secures a daily wage 
 of about 100 cash, or 4t\d. A shop-hand often gets as 
 much as 120 cash, or 5 \d. And daily earnings to the 
 amount of Is. or Is. 3 d. place a careful man not merely 
 beyond monetary anxieties, but enable him at the same 
 time to cut something of a figure as a well-to-do person. 
 
 It is true that these small amounts are worth in 
 China from six to eight times as much as in England ; 
 but it is needful to realize that the native brethren are 
 possessed of so little money in order to understand the 
 meaning of their gifts for church purposes. Among the 
 very poor at home we sometimes hear a long dispute 
 about a single penny, but the Chinaman will argue long 
 and angrily about a cash or two. An Amoy missionary 
 employed two men to do some work for him, and paid 
 them 75 cash. He should have given either 74 or 76, 
 so that the sum might divide evenly. One coin remain- 
 ing over, they did not toss for it, as an Englishman 
 might do, but they woke the echoes with a storm of 
 discussion for an hour. On any market-day such a 
 scene as the following may be witnessed. Two men 
 are chaffering their goods amid the greatest excitement. 
 A score of onlookers regard them with solemn interest. 
 The disputants spring backwards and forwards. Their 
 faces are distorted with passion. With voluble pro- 
 fanity and abuse they consign one another’s relatives 
 to perdition, beginning with those most nearly related, 
 and gradually enlarging the range of their antipathies, 
 until they have fairly exhausted themselves and their 
 degraded talents. Suddenly there is a lull ; the bargain 
 is struck; the two men are on perfectly good terms; 
 
OUR CHINESE BRETHREN IN CHRIST. 23 1 
 
 they were not seeking to do one another any mortal 
 injury, but only observing the custom of the country. 
 And now that calm has followed storm, we discover that 
 this loud dispute was as to whether the price of a large 
 basket of fish or a sack of potatoes shall be reduced by 
 two cash or not. 
 
 In some parts in which the mission work thrives the 
 most the people are extremely poor, even for China. 
 In the district of Hui-an, near Amoy, the London 
 Missionary Society has eight stations. A considerable 
 proportion of the people are so poor that the writer was 
 frequently assured by preachers in charge and others 
 that they cannot afford to eat the rice they grow in the 
 fields. They sell it to buy other necessaries, and them- 
 selves live on sweet potatoes, white cabbage, and little 
 snacks of dried fish. A difficulty in procuring tea also 
 once brought out the fact that the best tea in the 
 district was sold at 3 \d. a lb., aud that very little of 
 even that was used, great numbers of the people drink- 
 ing as a rule nothing but the water in which the sweet 
 potatoes were boiled. 
 
 Let such facts as these be remembered when we 
 speak of the support given by the native Christians of 
 China to the churches with which they are united. The 
 sum contributed may not seem to be very large, but the 
 critic must know the low value of money in China, and 
 multiply it probably by eight to get its true value in 
 English money. He must also consider the extreme 
 poverty of many of our Chinese brothers and sisters in 
 Christ, and the money-loving spirit which had to be 
 subdued before such gifts could be laid upon His altar. 
 Paul’s reference to ‘ the grace of God bestowed on the 
 churches of Macedonia ’ (2 Corinthians viii. 1) might not 
 
232 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 infrequently be repeated verbatim of the churches of 
 China, ‘ how that in a great trial of affliction the abund- 
 ance of their joy and their deep poverty abounded unto 
 the riches of their liberality/ 
 
 Now let us confine our attention to the contributions 
 to the London Missionary Society by the native church 
 at Amoy. The report of 1884 states the gift of the 
 native brethren at dollars 2166, and the membership at 
 883. We have then these results : — 
 
 The contributions of the native church were at the 
 rate of 2 dollars and 45 cents per church member; 
 which sum has an English value of about 19 dollars 
 60 cents ; or roughly, nearly 20 dollars. Twenty dollars 
 may be reckoned as averaging £3 15s. The 2 dollars 
 45 cents, therefore, from a Chinaman is about equal 
 to £3 15s. from an English church member. 
 
 It need scarcely be added that such an average sum 
 contributed by members of our home churches would 
 save them from all financial embarrassments. There 
 would be little need of Church Aid Societies, Pastors’ and 
 Curates’ Presentation and Augmentation Funds. There 
 are too many so-called Christians whose gifts to the 
 cause of Christ in the ministry of the Church and its 
 missions is no more than a threepenny or a sixpenny 
 piece now and then, making a total of only two or three 
 shillings a year. If the question of contributions for 
 the support of the Gospel ministry is to be the test of 
 the reality of their religious faith, the Chinese converts 
 may dare to lift up their heads. 
 
 It may now be said that a considerable proportion of 
 the pastors and preachers in connection with the missions 
 in Foochow, Amoy, and Formosa are supported wholly 
 or in large measure by the people to whom they 
 
OUR CHINESE _ BRETHREN IN CHRIST. 233 
 
 minister. In Amoy, indeed, as in a few other places, 
 the native brethren are beginning to interest themselves 
 in the ‘ regions beyond.’ 
 
 A similar argument for the earnestness and genuine- 
 ness of the faith of the native brethren might be 
 founded on their readiness to speak of Christ to others. 
 Callous as too many are about the souls around them, 
 there is a larger proportion of ‘ Christian workers ’ in 
 the average Chinese church than in the average English 
 church. The missionary and the preacher may win 
 their trophies now and again by preaching, and they 
 are constantly building up the faith and kindling the 
 zeal of the church members; but the actual evan- 
 gelization is largely done by the lay brethren. Many 
 a time, when about to baptize a man, I have asked him 
 to state to the church how he was first brought to trust 
 in Christ for salvation ; and instead of replying, 4 By 
 the doctrine of the preacher and missionary,’ he has 
 turned round to search for some brother in the con- 
 gregation, and has pointed the finger at him, and said, 
 ‘ He led me to Christ. He used to come to me months 
 ago, years ago, to sit with me after evening rice. I 
 tried to get rid of him, but he still came and besought 
 me to save my soul. I thank God that brother So-and- 
 so did not let me alone.’ 
 
 Not a few of the brethren give a large part of their 
 leisure in the country villages to speaking as they can 
 about Christ. Several I have known to be systematic 
 lay-readers, without being asked to do the work. Every 
 evening, when the evening meal was over, they would 
 put a Gospel into their pocket, and, with pipe and 
 tobacco, start out on their evangelistic tour. Very 
 strange preaching they would call it who get their 
 
234 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 notion of evangelizing from the proprieties of religious 
 discussion at home. Amid dirt and smells and noise, 
 through clouds of tobacco-smoke, the seed of the Word 
 is dropped into varied soil. The debate sometimes waxes 
 loud and energetic as a quarrel about cash. But the 
 ‘ foolishness of preaching ’ still ‘ saves them that believe.’ 
 
 The number of preacherless congregations scattered 
 here and there about the land is a testimony to the 
 power of lay agency, while at the same time it presents 
 a strong argument for increased effort in trying to meet 
 the opportunities of winning souls. It may truly be 
 said in some parts that ‘ the field is white unto harvest,’ 
 but, alas ! as of old, ‘ the labourers are few.’ The writer 
 has seen districts simply waiting to be possessed by the 
 missionary. Three congregations were waiting for 
 pastors at the same time. To none of them in their 
 entirety, but only to several individuals in two of them, 
 had missionaries or preachers ever preached. In the 
 first there were fifteen persons who met almost every 
 evening for worship, observed the Sabbath, were joined 
 on the Sunday by four professed Christians who had no 
 place of worship in their neighbourhood, had set apart 
 a wood-shed as a chapel, and fitted it up to accommodate 
 about thirty persons. The second congregation was 
 isolated both by its distance from the mission stations 
 and its position among the hills. Twenty-one persons 
 made a profession of the Christian faith, met daily for 
 prayer, observed the Sabbath, and the able-bodied men 
 among them travelled on foot fourteen miles to service 
 when there was anything special going on at the nearest 
 chapel. It seemed sad to leave them to themselves, but 
 the mission had no surplus of either men or money. 
 
 The third such congregation was still more interesting. 
 It had been thought desirable to change a place of 
 
OUR CHINESE BRETHREN IN CHRIST. 235 
 
 Christian assembly a few miles further south. Eleven 
 men who had been baptized at the former chapel 
 objected to the removal of their place of worship, and 
 resolved to remain in their own neighbourhood and to 
 conduct the services themselves. There was also a 
 small bone of contention at the time between them and 
 their pastors on the subject of payments to superstitious 
 objects — one of those questions that call for great 
 forbearance and charity on the part of the missionary, 
 as well as for firmness and definite teaching. No 
 personal communication took place between them and 
 their pastors for four years. At the end of that time 
 I happened to be spending a few weeks in their neigh- 
 bourhood, and requested their leader to come and see 
 me,* that I might hear the other side of the dispute. 
 Brother Tiap came at once. He was a dark-skinned, 
 black-eyed farmer, rather under size. But in that 
 small body it was evident that there burned a fire of 
 energy that needed to be controlled ; which, if rightly 
 directed, would be a power for good, but, if brow-beaten 
 and opposed, could assert itself in mischievous forms 
 through very excess of zeal. * Brother Tiap,’ I said, 
 ‘ why do you not come to worship with us ? ’ ‘ Why 
 
 should I come to worship with you ? ’ he said. * Does 
 it not take two full hours to walk here, and two full 
 hours to walk back ? Cannot we worship God in our 
 aucestral village ? Why, too, should we neglect our 
 wives and children, our aged parents, and our neigh- 
 bours ? No, we will not worship with you ; we will 
 tell of the love of God to our families and friends/ 
 This was said with flashing eyes and fiery gestures, in 
 a loud voice, and with the broadest provincial accent. 
 I resolved to make a friend of a Christian man capable 
 of so much passion. It was quite encouraging to meet 
 
236 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 with one who was saying by his conduct, ‘ The zeal of 
 Thine house hath eaten me up.’ He and his friends 
 might have been in the wrong in the first instance, or 
 they might have been justified in their complaint. 
 That was nothing to me. I had as a Christian man 
 simply to ask whether these were believers trying to 
 walk according to the law of Christ, and while not 
 palliating their faults, still not to treat them with 
 anything less than Christian respect and love, and the 
 more so because their knowledge was imperfect and 
 their spiritual culture immature. A long conversation, 
 during which gentleness of treatment toned Tiap down 
 to a reverent and emotional frame of mind, brought out 
 the following facts. The little band of eleven malcon- 
 tents had been multiplied in the four years to fifty 
 regular worshippers who professed Christianity, and 
 twent} 7 -five who were not quite so decided, but were 
 reckoned as belonging to the Christian community. 
 In the little village of Poo-kee they had set apart a 
 house as a chapel, and service was held there twice and 
 thrice on the Sunday. On the week evenings a number 
 of persons assembled for worship. The village was so 
 changed by the existence of this chapel that it was 
 commonly known as ‘Pai Shang-ti sia,’ the village 
 where God is worshipped; and superstitious practices 
 had almost ceased in it. Tiap generally conducted the 
 services himself, but being only a very indifferent scholar, 
 he was in the habit of walking on Saturday to Chin- 
 chew, a distance of nine miles each w r ay, in order to 
 learn the characters he could not understand, that he 
 might read the Scripture lessons correctly. The bom- 
 bastic way in which Tiap began to tell me all this 
 passed off as he proceeded, and he gave to God all the 
 glory of the wonderful work. I could not help saying 
 
OUR CHINESE BRETHREN IN CHRIST. 237 
 
 at the close of the conversation (in which one or two 
 preachers took part), ‘ Brother Tiap, go on as you are 
 doing, and the Lord be with you. May you never 
 worship here except as a visitor and a friend!’ 
 
 I arranged to go and see the brotherhood at Poo-kee 
 two days later. It was a bad road even for China. 
 The chapel was at last pointed out to me on the other 
 side of a gully, and as I stood there the wind wafted 
 across to me the sound of a hymn. It was sung so 
 well that the words were audible. 
 
 ‘ My heart doth praise indeed, 
 
 Because of God’s great grace ; 
 
 From ruin He has saved my life ; 
 
 Let heart and will adore.’ 
 
 On entering the house I found just about a hundred 
 persons present. After preaching to them on the new 
 birth, from John iii. 3, we had a conference as to their 
 affairs. I had to confess that we had no preacher to 
 send them, and that, if we had, it would be needful to 
 have a fuller conference than was possible then and there 
 before a preacher could be appointed. The result of our 
 deliberations was that the congregation appointed three 
 of their number (of whom Tiap was one) to be joint 
 preachers in charge. They were to take it in turn to 
 conduct the Sunday services. On the other two Sundays 
 they were to bring some twelve to twenty vigorous young 
 men a distance of seven and a half miles to the nearest 
 district city, where there was a resident pastor of con- 
 siderable ability. This arrangement continued for 
 several years, until a preacher was appointed to Poo-kee, 
 and the station and its members are now reckoned as 
 belonging to the London Missionary Society. 
 
 The importance of such facts as these can hardly be 
 over-estimated when we are trying to test the genuineness 
 
238 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 of the faith of converts to Christianity. Many faulty 
 members there are; some, alas ! who seem quite impassive 
 in the face of the mass of heathenism around them. But 
 a great part of the real evangelistic work — the work of 
 bringing in those that are out of the way — is done by 
 the church members themselves. Let the missionary 
 lament as he may the coldness and apathy of his flock, 
 in liberality, in readiness to speak for Christ, in 
 endurance of reproach, in faith in prayer, the Chinese 
 Christians bear very favourable comparison with their 
 brethren in England. 
 
 The fact that the Chinese are generally very ready 
 speakers ought to be noticed in this connection, for it 
 bears directly upon the question of evangelization by 
 means of native instrumentalities. Their garrulousness 
 may be accounted for on the ground of their having in 
 their various languages almost nothing that can be 
 called grammar. The mysteries of moods, tenses, 
 persons, cases, and genders are happily absent from the 
 simple tongues of China. Consequently it is hardly 
 possible for a native to make a mistake in the turn and 
 shape of a sentence. He has scarcely to think about 
 the form of his sentences at all, but only of the matter. 
 
 Besides, every boy is allowed to express his opinions. 
 The saying, ‘Little people should be seen, and not 
 heard/ may sometimes pass the lips of the elders, but 
 not often. The children join in the conversation of the 
 older folks as a matter of course and upon equal terms. 
 I remember on one occasion going into a heathen 
 temple where eight or ten old men were smoking their 
 long pipes and discussing some weighty theme. A 
 little fellow seven years of age was among them. 
 He gave his opinion on the subject in dispute as 
 though he had as much right to speak as they, and 
 
OUR CHINESE BRETHREN IN CHRIST. 239 
 
 yet not with any foolish airs. The old men solemnly 
 turned round to listen to this youngster. No one 
 rebuked him for his impertinence in speaking. The 
 bo} r s are kept in their place by very rigid laws of 
 etiquette, but they are seldom told to be silent and 
 listen to their elders. 
 
 The result is that the men express themselves with 
 ease, fluency, and point. If they have anything to say, 
 they simply say it. The shyness, nervousness, dread 
 of murdering the grammar, and horror lest the sentence 
 should not work itself through to an end, that afflicts 
 many English speakers, are almost unknown to the 
 Chinaman. As a rule, too, they have a much finer 
 faculty for illustration than ourselves. It might almost 
 be said that, given a man whose heart the Lord has 
 opened, you have also a man whose lips the Lord has 
 touched. The most learned English missionary, the 
 most gifted and eloquent in his own tongue, cannot 
 hope to speak with half as much power as the least 
 educated Chinaman who has the grace of God in his 
 heart. One needs to be a Chinaman in order to think 
 as a Chinaman, and to use such illustrations and 
 references and phrases as will make public speech 
 effective. 
 
 China will never be converted through the lips 
 of the foreigner. At the present rate at which 
 missionaries are sent to that country it would take 
 ages to do so. But there is room to doubt whether 
 it was ever designed by the Head of the Church that it 
 should be done by the presence and money of foreign 
 nations. The church at Jerusalem sent out its small 
 bands of messengers for a few years only. When the 
 Church had taken root in foreign lands the work of the 
 first missionary society at Jerusalem was over. From 
 
240 
 
 EVERYDAY LIFE IN CHINA. 
 
 that time the Church must live or die according to the 
 
 O 
 
 vitality inherent in it. If it could not live it would 
 deserve to die. 
 
 Most of the missionaries recognize the temporary 
 nature of foreign effort very clearly, and are devoting 
 themselves to the work of training a native ministry. 
 Not thousands of Englishmen or Americans are 
 needed, but thousands and tens of thousands of 
 Chinamen with consecrated lips and hearts. Not so 
 much scholars as men are needed. If the scholar is 
 tacked on to the man, well and good ; better to be a 
 scholar than not ; but it is the man that is needed, — 
 the brave, true-hearted, consecrated man, who can stand 
 alone without a foreign missionary to look after him, 
 back him up, and push him forward. Every missionary 
 sighs after such men. They are too uncommon over 
 there, as they are in most places. But the professing 
 Christians now number 25,000 persons. It is time 
 to look for China’s apostle. He has not yet given 
 signs of his coming. Not one, but many men must 
 be given in answer to the constant and earnest prayers 
 that are offered. When the apostle comes, he will 
 be a Chinaman, and hot a foreigner. Will he come 
 out of one of the native theological colleges, now 
 numbering several hundred students ? or will he come 
 from some unexpected quarter, as God’s ambassadors 
 so often do ? We cannot tell ; but, may he come soon ! 
 and may he shake the nation as did the Baptist in 
 the desert ! 
 
 J 
 
 THE END.