watch-towers and bastions for cannon, the broad parapet being used as a promenade, whence, during the silent nights, the occasional drowsy tapping of a bamboo, or the beating of a drum, is heard as the sentinels signal that all is well, and from which a splendid view of the surrounding country can be obtained. The tree-shaded walks and roads are well laid out and broad, though much hampered by stalls and shopmen's counters, and in the morning by fish tubs, vegetable baskets, and other market produce. The heavily roofed houses, generally black painted, are high and picturesque, conspicuous for their pillars, offices, tiled courtyards, and lodges; and the shops for their breadth of open frontage, and long perpendicular signboards, most of them gilded and fantastically embellished, which greatly add to the picturesque appearance of the thoroughfares, which are crowded from morn to eve by pedestrians, women, officials, students, merchants, chairbearers, and coolies, all hurrying along, except the wealthier ones, who have their own easy swaggering gait. But should any one in this busy crowd see on the ground a piece of paper inscribed with writing or printing, so great is their respect for this matter, that, however dirty or torn it may be, he will pick it up and deposit it in the first box he comes to. All streets in China are supplied with these receptacles for paper, which are cleared out at stated periods and the contents burned, the ashes being carefully collected and sealed up in earthen vessels which are then reverently consigned to the depths of a river or a deep grave in the ground. For the Chinese firmly believe that honour, distinction, wealth, and old age may all be attained by thus showing proper respect for written paper. Broad, stone-faced canals intersect this busy metropolis at all points, and are frequently spanned by magnificent stone arches of great age and stability, beneath which all manner of junks and sampans in pleasing variety pass to and fro with cargoes and wealthy wanderers-princes, merchants, and mandarins-to all parts of the empire. For all men come here to this sacred city, this Venetian Paris of the Middle Kingdom, the birthplace of her greatest statesmen, poets, and historians; where proud scholars crowd the examination halls, authors fill the libraries, and poets sing of the landmarks so celebrated in history, whose fame they perpetuate. I was greatly impressed with all I saw, and my visit to that famous old city will be indelibly treasured in my memory with fond though sad recollections. For, although I could not find her, I felt when leaving that I left behind me, caged within those sombre time-worn battlements, one of the best and fairest friends of my roving life in the Far East. "Out of my reach, behind eternity, Hid in the sacred treasure of the past." But we must travel onward, leaving Sêou Jâe amid the romantic memories of bygone celebrities, princes and poets, people and places immortalized in the most refined verse, and associated with the glory of past generations, so dear to her old-world mind and their age-honoured traditions. Bidding farewell to this archaic city, I have taken the liberty of introducing in the next chapter one of these quaint traditions, in which I have endeavoured to faithfully depict some of the most striking peculiarities of Chinese life, especially the strictly deferential and evasively-catechetical manner of address affected by the educated classes, particularly by the students and literati of this mysterious Empire. VII. THE SEAL OF FATE. * I. SUMMER'S evening, and the gates of Sung And caravans, with produce of the East, An ancient man, whose cabalistic art A prophet by the world unrecognised, * This poem originated from an old Chinese legend of the time of the Tang dynasty. The opening scene in the second part was suggested to me while visiting a beautiful and secluded spot in the vicinity of Amoy, South China. AUTHOR. Who, thus inspired, would sit for hours and hours Now Uko was a young and comely youth, And while he paused near where a temple stood "Pray, aged father, seeing you engaged In lit'ry pursuits by this misty light, May I-with all due def'rence to your years My ignorance of the benefits derived, Or pleasure you conceive, from this wise course Of evening study, and of writing by No other lamp than cheerless rays of light. Shed on this earth by yon ill-fated moon Which, like this world, has burned down long ago; The old man, from his thoughtful attitude, * One hundred and twenty English geographical miles. Did not at first bestir himself to speak, At length he slowly raised his shrivelled form, "Since you, my child, presume to question me For 'tis not oft that casual visitors "Let me explain what book I now peruse- And in my pockets I have cords of red With which I tie the feet of those who shall Be joined together. And, when once they're bound. Of nations adverse as the unknown spheres |