In Eastern Seas / Or, the Commission of H.M.S. 'Iron Duke,' flag-ship in China, 1878-83

and which was one of the appropriate hymns for our morning Service.

October 8th.—Towards evening we bade good-bye to this favoured land, and stood away to the eastward. We had made good an offing, and set everything aloft snug for the night, when heavy volumes of steam were found to be issuing from the regions of the engine-room. A steam pipe had burst, a fracture of so little moment that after a short delay to effect repairs we were able to resume our voyage. But though the damage was not serious, so far as the ship was concerned, to us, personally, it was a matter of some consequence, on account of our bags and chests being stowed immediately over the fractured pipe; and in order to secure our property, we were compelled to make a blind rush for it, re-appearing from our vapour bath, as red as boiled lobsters.

A splendid eight knot breeze brought us, after a few days, off Acheen head, in Sumatra, and at the entrance of the Straits of Malacca. And here, the monsoon which had favoured us over so many miles of the pathless ocean, suddenly forsook us. Sails were of no further use, and we braced up our sweat glands for four or five days of increasing heat. In obedience to the demands of an imperious, ever-rising, thermometer, we reduced our rig to the least possible articles consistent with decency and the regulations of the Service—which latter, by the way, discriminates not between the caloric of the north pole and that of the equator.

Just at this time, we encountered a phenomenon of frequent occurrence in this region, namely, water-spouts. One of these tremendous, funnel-shaped, columns of water actually burst just ahead of us, drenching our decks in showers of spray, and causing the water to seethe and vex itself as though some monster were lashing it into fury.

October 18th.—The scene which presented itself to our eyes, as we entered the narrow, gem-studded channel which leads up to Singapore was such that I trust it may live long in my mind as a memory picture of grateful and refreshing beauty. I don't know that it will compare with the mighty growth of Ceylon's forests, or with the variety and richness of its forms; but for mellowness of tint and harmonious blending of soft foliage, Singapore's park-like views seem to me, as yet, unrivalled. The channel is so narrow and its banks so high, that one is quite unprepared for the splendour which suddenly, like the shifting lights in a transformation scene, blazes out in all its tropic splendour. Now, the scenes depicted in the "Arabian Nights" seem to me not so impossible after all, and, except that gems don't grow on the trees, this fairy garden might well have stood in the writer's mind as his ideal of paradise.

Very reluctantly we turn away, as that grim reality, known as the Tangong Pagar coaling wharf, heaves in sight, and alongside which we are rapidly secured. Hundreds of coolies, in anticipation of our enormous wants—500 tons of carbon—are already thronging the jetty with their baskets of coal, which ere long, is rattling down our coal shoots.

The Malays, though labouring under the disadvantage of a bad reputation, are a well developed, muscular race, of a dark, copper colour. Dress does not trouble them much, for all that custom and society demand of them in this respect is a couple of yards or so of white linen about their lumbar region; the remainder of their sleek, oily bodies presenting the appearance of polished bronze. They are great divers, especially the youths and boys—I had almost said infants, for some of the little mortals can scarcely have passed the sucking age. Their stock of English is very limited: "Jack, I say jack, I dive," delivered all in one mouthful and with no regard to punctuation, being about the extent of their acquirements in our tongue.

Our first day at Singapore was marked by a sad termination. Emanuel Dewdney, one of our boys, a weakly lad and far too delicate for the rough life he had adopted, died of heat apoplexy in the afternoon.

Though Singapore lies so near the equator—within two degrees of it in fact—it enjoys a very healthy, though, of course, a very hot climate. The town itself is not very extensive. There is the usual native Malay division with its system of mud architecture, its dirt and smells; and that of the European residents—a marked contrast to the irregular jumble of the other. I don't know that there is particularly much to see in the island, except, perhaps, the Botanical Gardens, whose beauties will amply repay you for the rather long walk to reach them. You may take a coach if you like, but that will spoil the pleasure. In these gardens all the choicest and rarest flora, and much of the fauna, of the East Indies, are brought together and acclimatized. The most conspicuous amongst the former, and certainly the most lovely—and that is saying much where all excel—is a species of acacia, a large tree with great flaming scarlet and yellow flowers. Then there is that extremely interesting and singularly funny creeper, the sensitive plant, which, on the approach of anybody, has the power of doubling up its leaves as if in sudden fear. Birds in great variety—all scarlet, gold, and azure—inhabit spacious aviaries within the grounds. Lyre birds, argus pheasants, great eagles, and owls from Java, doves, pigeons, lories, and humming birds, the metallic lustre of whose plumage flashes in the light like the sheen of steel. One or two tigers—in a cage, of course—invite our curiosity. I was not, however, prepared to make quite so close an acquaintance with these lovely supple creatures, as one of the marines of our party, who, having indulged too freely in malt, possibly mistook the animals for cats, the result being he got so damaged about the bows as to be rendered unfit for divisions the following morning, and barely escaped with his eyesight. Drink makes a man do queer things.

The native men are very picturesquely apparelled in gaily coloured turbans and sarongs, whilst the women,—tall, graceful, and pretty—convey a small fortune about with them, in the shape of jewellery, in the cartilage of the nose, in the ears, and around the arms and legs. I saw one woman who had such heavy masses of gold in her ears that the lobes of those organs touched her shoulders.

November 1st.—At 9 a.m. the long-expected "Audacious" hove in sight, flying the flag of Admiral Hillyar at the main. How we already envy her fortunate crew!

November 8th, off to Penang. The pipe "up anchor" this morning was hailed with delight. Anything to change the dull monotony of the last few weeks. We started with an overcast and rainy sky, and by the next morning had reached Malacca, a small British settlement, essentially Malay, more a village than a town. It lies very low and close to the water's edge, the houses of the natives being all constructed on piles driven into the mud, and embowered in a dense framework of cocoa palms. In the distance rises the high cone-shaped peak of Ophir, now a lovely sight because of the misty covering which envelopes it to near its summit. Bananas are very plentiful; so, too, are monkeys and the canes so highly prized at home.

November 9th.—To-day, our own admiral came in, in the mail steamer, and glad are we that he has arrived, that we may be again on the move, for you know there are happier states and more comfortable, than a forcible detention in a red-hot ironclad.

Sunday, November 13th.—I see in my "journal" that I have noted what, under ordinary conditions, would call for no remark, that a lady was present at our service to-day. None but those who are banished the softening and refreshing influence of woman's society can form any idea how pleasant it is to see an English woman in this land of yellow bellies and sable skins.

November 15th.—Now we are really the Flag Ship, for this morning the "Audacious," with a parting cheer, bade us good-bye, and started for home.

November 21st.—By early morning we discovered the island of Din Ding right a-head.

Nothing can exceed the wonderful beauty of this tiny island. From the sea it has so much the appearance of the bosky slopes of Mount Edgcumbe, that, were it not for the characteristic palm, one could well imagine one's self looking at a bit of our own dear England.

A stretch of sandy beach, white and glistening as silver, with the graceful waving plumes of the cocoanut tree close to the water's edge, and behind, the pile dwellings of the Malays, nestling at the foot of a wooded eminence, capped to its very summit with a dense and varied growth; such is the picture viewed from the anchorage. Din Ding, or Ding Ding—as sailors, by a system of alliteration, very fashionable amongst themselves—render it, lies at the mouth of the Perak river.

On landing we struck at once into the jungle, under tall palms, with their great ripening fruit, and other tropic vegetation. Road, there was none; only a sort of bridle path, very heavy with mud, and overgrown with great hawser-like creepers, indicated a way along which we trudged. Now and then the fallen trunk of a great tree barred our further progress, or a chasm yawned before us, or mayhap, a great time-worn boulder stopped the way; insignificant objects all when matelôts are on the war trail. Our object was to reach a certain house on yonder point, in which a most dastardly murder was recently perpetrated on the British resident, Colonel Lloyd, who, with his wife and sister, had made this their home. The house is now quite empty, but in one of the rooms we saw, or fancied we saw, spots of sanguine dye on the floor.

We hastened onward through a small hamlet of about a dozen miserable huts, resting on piles. Tubs of putrid fish, in all stages of decomposition, gave out a most horrid stench, whilst other carcasses strewed the ground in advanced rottenness. Is it not revolting, that amongst these people, fish in its pure state is rarely eaten, and if it be, it is always raw. But nature is ever lovely, though the human part of her does all it can to deface her; if she were not so what a spoiled world ours would be!

Holding our nostrils we ran for it, doubtful if we should ever get rid of the smell. Further on was a hut of rather larger pretensions, now used as a barrack for the police. One of these latter, who possessed a tolerable knowledge of English, struck up a conversation with us, and amongst indifferent topics we asked about the prisoners recently captured. He certainly took us by surprise, when he indicated they were within the building, alongside of which we were standing. Would we like to see them? We would. Yes, true enough, there on the floor were five Chinamen, lashed and bound so tight that the flesh stood out in great purple ridges on either side the rope.

To get back to our boat we had to repass the village of odours delectable. On this occasion the scantily clad and polished Malays, whom we had not seen on passing through, put in an appearance.

By 4 p.m. the anchor was aweigh, and we heading towards Penang, which was reached on the following day in the midst of thick, dirty weather.

The town is well built, and the cleanest I have yet seen since leaving Europe. The island is sometimes termed the "Garden of the East," and if it is always as now, I should say the name was justly bestowed. A little way out in the country is a fine waterfall, which all who call here, make a point of visiting. Jumping into a pony carriage, locally called a gharry, a comfortable, well ventilated vehicle, capable of seating four persons, we desire the turban driver to steer for the latter place. Along the very fine road to the fall, a profusion of palms and gigantic tree ferns, between thirty and forty feet high, up whose great stems gaily flowered creepers wind their hawser-like fronds, make a delicious and cooling shade. Yonder tree away there in the background, with delicate pea-green leaves, is an old friend of ours. Let your memories go back to your infancy. Cannot you recall many a wry face; cannot you remember how unpleasant the after sensations when stern, but kind mothers forced a nauseous decoction called "senna" down your widely-gaping throat? You smile. I felt certain you had all experienced it. Well that is the senna tree.

Large mansions lying back from the roadway, with gates and paths leading up to their entrances, and a smell of new mown hay, were most home-like and refreshing.

We should have fared much better had a more mutual understanding existed between us and our pony. That obtuse little beast, good enough at curves and tangents, after half an hour's canter, flatly refused to exert himself above a walk; nor, though frequently encouraged by the whip, did he accelerate his movements to the end of our drive.

At the fall we had a very refreshing shower bath under a thundering cascade of water tumbling over the edge of a gorge. Near at hand, and conveniently so, too, for the priesthood, is a small shrine sacred to the Hindoo god Brahin, a diminutive edition of whom stands on a little pedestal, amidst braziers, lamps, figures with elephants' heads and human bodies, and other monstrosities. You may be certain there was a mendicant priest in attendance on his godship.

On the return voyage our hack behaved even more ungentlemanly than before, for now he most emphatically refused to budge an inch, indicating his intention of becoming a fixture by planting his feet obliquely, like a stubborn jackass, into the ground. Human nature could scarcely be expected to tolerate such evidence of mutiny, so, jumping into the first passing carriage, we reached the town at a fairly creditable canter.

November 28th.—To-day our short stay at Penang comes to a conclusion, and a few days afterwards we are once more at Singapore.

CHAPTER VI.

SARAWAK.​—​LABUAN.​—​MANILLA.​—​HEAVY WEATHER.

December 5th.—At 4 p.m. the anchor was hove short for our voyage to Hong Kong, by way of Manilla. As we start some days sooner than we anticipated, we had made no provision for getting our washed clothes on board, and grave fears are entertained that we shall be compelled to sail without it, for as yet there is not so much as the ghost of a washerwoman in sight. Will they, can they by any fortuitous combination of circumstances, put in an appearance before we leave? Despair, we are off! But surely no, it can't be? Yes, by jove, there are boats pulling after us with all the might the rowers can command. We lie to, the proas come nearer. Hurrah! the clothes, some wholly washed, some half-washed, and some not washed at all. Piles of fair white linen are bundled up the gangway pell-mell, Malay washerwomen bundled out ditto, and for payment, the revolving screws settle that in a highly satisfactory manner.

With the "Lapwing" in tow, and the gentlest of breezes filling the lighter canvas, we shape our course eastward.

December 8th.—Late in the afternoon we brought up in the roadstead of Sarawak, on the northern coast of Borneo. The place is not at all enlivening; neither house, human being, nor boat, to indicate we are in habitable land. The town itself, the capital of a small rajahship governed by an Englishman, lies some twenty miles up a river, in the estuary of which we are anchored. The province was presented by the Sultan of Borneo, in 1843, to Sir James Brooke, uncle of the present proprietor, who, on the decease of Sir James, in 1868, succeeded to the territory.

Here the "Lapwing," after having taken the admiral up the river, parted company, whilst we continued our way along the Bornean shore.

December 12th.—We awoke to find ourselves in the midst of a labyrinth of isles most wonderful to behold, vaguely guessing which, out of so many, can be Labuan. The rattling of the chain through the hawse, decides it. A small settlement over which England's flag keeps guard, lies before us. This is the town of Victoria. This small island, previous to 1846, belonged to Borneo, but in that year the Sultan ceded it to Britain, as a convenient station for checking piracy on his sea-board. It lies off the north-eastern end of the great island of Borneo, and within view of its precipitous heights and mist-clad peaks.

December 14th.—Coaling is a long process at Labuan, first, because the ship lies so far from the shore, and next, because of the insufficiency of convenient boats, and the necessary coolie labour to put the coal on board, thus it took us two whole days to get in as many hundred tons. By the evening of the 14th however, we had cleared the islands, and shaped course for Manilla against a head wind.

December 19th.—It has taken us twelve hours to clear the intricate, and gusty approaches to Manilla Bay, the wind, occasionally meeting us with such force, accompanied by such a chopping sea, that we sometimes made no progress at all. On coming to anchor we were rather surprised to find the "Lapwing" had preceded us, and was lying close in shore.

Manilla, the capital of Luzon, the largest of the Philippine Islands, is a city of considerable magnitude, and has all the appearance of a Spanish town in Europe, these islands having belonged to Spain for over 300 years.

Though we arrived on a Sunday it was anticipated there would be no difficulty in procuring coal immediately. Had the British been in authority here we should have been privileged to do so with impunity. When this conclusion was arrived at, one potent factor had not been considered—"the Church"—and for once in a way we were thankful to the Church. The archbishop of Manilla and his subordinates hold more real sway over the minds and bodies of the natives—Indians, as they are called—than all the temporal power of the governor, backed by his guards, or even than the king himself.

Amidst all the Spanish jabber around, it is refreshing to hear ourselves hailed in genuine English, and soon the author of the sound grasps us by the hand and welcomes us to his house, a request we gladly comply with.

The houses are very like those of Gibraltar, and one's memory is rapidly borne back to the "Rock," especially as everything around is Spanish.

Perhaps the great feature of the place is its cathedrals; one in particular, a magnificent structure, so roomy and lofty that I should think half the devout of the city could find accommodation therein. In less than two years subsequent to our visit the whole of this grand pile was little better than a heap of ruins, from an earthquake wave which passed over these islands. This most terrible of natural phenomena is of frequent occurrence in this quarter of the world. In many parts of the city we observed whole streets and churches in ruins, as if from a recent bombardment.

Cock-fighting is the great national sport, amusement, or cruelty, which of the three you will, indulged in by the good people of Manilla. Everywhere along the streets you may meet Spanish boys and half castes, with each his bird tucked under his arm ready for the combat, should the chance passer-by make it worth their while.

The best place to witness this propensity for blood, which seems in-born in every Spaniard, is at the public arena in the heart of the city, where hundreds of cocks are generally engaged at once, the betting on a certain bird not unfrequently amounting to thousands of dollars. I will not trouble you with the sickening details of the scene I witnessed—to my shame I say it—I think few of those who are present at a first exhibition of this cruel and useless sport will be desirous of witnessing a second—except he be a man of a morbid inclination. One may be impelled by curiosity to satisfy a human weakness, but every rightly balanced mind will turn from the scene with feelings of repugnance and disgust.

December 23rd.—The last day of our stay, and the last opportunity we shall have for laying in stock for the 25th. In the afternoon the caterers of messes having been accorded the necessary permission, went on shore to make a general clearance in the Manilla markets. There was every prospect, when they left the ship, of the day continuing fine—a bright sun and a clear sky above, and a smooth sea below. Unfortunately for the success of the expedition, this happy meteoric combination did not continue. The heavens began to frown, and the sea—ever jealous of its sister's moods—put on a restless appearance. At sun-down the wind suddenly rose to half a gale, with a cross lumpy sea and drenching showers of rain. The accommodation for the men to return to the ship was degrees from being called even fair. They had hired a rickety steam launch, scarcely capable of holding her own in ordinary weather, and two smaller boats, or gigs, neither of which was in a seaworthy condition; and in these was to be found room for upwards of forty men, besides about a ton of provisions of all kinds. It was evident, or ought to have been, that it was madness to attempt leaving the shore whilst the present weather lasted. I have seen the offence of breaking leave justified for less boisterous weather. Orders, however, (especially sailing orders) are imperative; so the flotilla put off at 7 p.m. in tow of the launch. The following was the arrangement:—The launch, laden far below her bearings, took the lead; the second boat contained all the heaviest provisions—flour, pigs, poultry, potatoes, and such like; whilst far too many men had stowed themselves in the third boat, to give but the faintest idea of either comfort or safety.

When about half-way to the ship, the painter of the hindmost boat parted, and the launch, rounding to, to her assistance narrowly escaped swamping. The next mishap chanced to the second boat—the provision gig—whose stem piece was tugged completely out of her, and the two sides, having thus lost their mutual support, parted and went to the bottom, the onlookers having to endure the melancholy sight of witnessing all their good things going to fatten old Davy Jones, or to fill his lockers, or something of that sort. But the distress of these very distressed mariners was not yet complete; a strange fatality seemed to have embarked with them. It was now the launch's turn: first the third boat, next the second, and now the launch in proper, though fortunately not arithmetical progression. It was discovered that the supply of coal could not possibly last to the ship! What was to be done? "Opportunity," it is said, "makes the thief;" it may be also said, with equal truth, that opportunity makes the dormant abilities of some men to soar above their fellows, over-riding even destiny itself. The Spanish crew of the launch were unequal to the emergency, were worse than useless in fact; but an able substitute for the engineer was found in Andrews, one of our leading stokers; and for coxswain, who better than Law, the boatswain's mate? The former of these at once directed everybody to pull the inner wood work of the launch to pieces, and, as the bump of destructiveness has its full development in the sailor phrenology, he had not long to wait for his fuel; thus they managed to reach the ship full six hours after they had left the shore.

December 25th.—Christmas in merry England is one thing; Christmas in a gale in the China Sea another, and so distinct a thing as scarcely to be confounded with the former. But let us see if we can tell our friends something about it. Considering the shortcomings we had to put up with—bare tables, hungry bellies, and the lively movements of our ship, consequent on a rising malevolent sea—I think we managed to enjoy a fair amount of fun, whether it was genuine or not is another point, nor would I like to vouch for its being altogether devoid of irony. "Father Christmas" paid us his customary visit anyway, in his mantle of snow—fancy snow within fifteen degrees of the line!—which merry, rubicund, and very ancient man was ably personated by a gigantic marine, the necessary barrel-like proportions being conveyed by a feather pillow.

"A hungry man is an angry one;" so runs the legend, but, if true, and I have every reason to believe that it is, it held not on the lower deck of the "Iron Duke" this day, for no man was angry, and every man was hungry, not counting some who had their heads down the lee scuppers. Altogether the day passed very smoothly inboard, though outside a storm was hurrying on us with gigantic strides.

December 26th.—The overcast sky of last night was indeed a precursor of what was to follow. About midnight the wind freshened into a full gale, the first we have encountered since leaving England. It gave us a proper shaking down into our places. The sea became wild and mountainous, the wind shrieking and vicious, and as to hold our course we had to stem its full fury, it was found impossible to keep the ship head on except at a much greater consumption of coal than we were prepared to use. Crash! What's gone? The jib-boom and all its appurtenances. The wrecked spar falling athwart the ram remained there for hours, proving a most difficult obstacle to clear away in such a whirl as was going on in the neighbourhood of our bows.

But there were no signs of the gale moderating, and the admiral deeming, I suppose, the present state of things far from satisfactory determined on putting back to Manilla. The ship was brought around, or "wore" as nautical men term it, an evolution which, though not of difficult accomplishment, at a certain moment in its progress leaves the vessel completely helpless in the trough of the sea, a fact you all know far better than myself, I only touch upon it to hint what the result must be to such a cumbersome mass as our iron hull. As we broached to, it became a matter of holding on to everything, and by everything—eyebrows and all—especially between decks. Delightful times these for ditty boxes, crockery, bread barges, and slush tubs; 'tis their only chance for enjoyment and they make the most of it. Such revelry generally winds up with a grand crash somewhere in the vicinity of the iron combings to the hatchways. Any plates left, any basins? Nay, that would be to ask too much of the potter's art. At length we are put round, and running back to Manilla under all the canvas we dare shew.

December 31st.—Completed with coal and left on a fresh attempt to reach Hong Kong, the black and lowering sky suggesting either the continuation of, or the sequel to, the late stormy weather. Being New Year's Eve the usual attempt at a tin-pot band was made to make the night hideous. Setting aside the annoyance of this species of rowdyism to the less exuberant spirits amongst us, the noise would be most unseemly with the commander-in-chief on board, and it says much for the would-be musicians that they saw it in this light.

We reached the northern point of Luzon without mishap, and stood away with a heavy cross-sea for Hong Kong, arriving on January 4th, 1879.

CHAPTER VII.

HONG KONG.​—​SOME CHINESE MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.

I suppose there are few amongst us, sailors though we are, who, as boys at school when reading of China, have never expressed a wish to see that land for themselves, to say nothing of making the acquaintance of its quaint old-world people in their very own homes. In my imagination I had covered its goodly soil with wondrous palaces, all sparkling with splendour and embellished with all that art could furnish or riches command. I had peopled its broad plains with bright beautiful forms in silken attire, amongst whom a love of the elegant and the beautiful pervaded all classes of the community, and who in long ages ago had attained to arts and learning which it has taken us centuries of careful study and elaborate research to acquire. Yea, it was always a wonderland to me, even down to the present year; such is the power which the associations formed by the child exercise over the mind of the man. Yet were we prepared to meet a people who should, in almost all things, differ from almost all other peoples. In the last particular we are not deceived; in all else, yes. But I wont anticipate.

In this little book I shall not be able to tell you a tithe of what may be told of this land did I feel competent to do so. Volumes have been written on the subject, and still the half has not been said. I purpose, therefore, henceforward to intersperse with the narrative of our own doings, just so much of the manners and customs of the Chinese and Japanese, as every sailor possessed of the ordinary powers of vision may see for himself.

January 4th.—The harbour of Hong Kong is reached from the sea by means of a rather long and tortuous passage, with bleak barren heights on either hand,—the channel being in some parts so narrow that there is scarce room for the ship to turn.

The island itself—rendered either "red harbour" or "fragrant streams," which you prefer, though neither seems applicable, certainly not the latter if by fragrance is meant what we mean by it—lies on the southern seaboard of China. It became British in 1842, on the conclusion of the first Chinese war. The city of Victoria is situated on its northern side, and stands on a beautiful land-locked harbour, formed by the island on the one hand and the peninsula of Kowloon (also British) on the other a sheet of water which always presents a gay and animated appearance, from the thousands of vessels and boats which cover its surface like a mosaic.

It is not without some difficulty that we push our way through the thronging craft, principally little boats termed "sampans," to our moorings abreast of the Dockyard. Curious craft withal, and serving a double purpose; for besides their legitimate one, whole families live and move, are born, and die in them; the necessary accommodation being furnished by an ingenious arrangement of hatches, floors, and partitions, and, as it seems highly fashionable that the Chinese mammas should be making constant additions to the population, the squalling of the young celestials betrays a healthiness of lung, and a knowledge of its capabilities, scarcely to be credited of such small humanity.

The earlier fate of these infantile members of the boat population is sad. They are exposed to a "rough-and-tumble" existence as soon as they are ushered into the world, especially should the poor innocent have the misfortune to be born a girl baby, for in that case she has simply to shift for herself, the inhuman parents considering themselves fortunate if they lose a girl or two overboard. The boys, or "bull" children, as they are termed, meet with rather more care relatively speaking. As, from the nature of their occupation, but little time can be devoted to nursing—the mother being compelled to constant labour at the oar—the child is slung on to her back, and, as she moves to and fro with the stroke of the oar, the babe's soft face bobs in unison against its mother's back, a fact which will perhaps explain how it is that the lower class Chinese wear their noses flattened out on their two cheeks rather than in the prominent position usually selected by that organ.

It is amazing how wonderfully quick the Chinese pick up a colloquial foreign tongue; the same tailor for instance experiencing no difficulty in making himself understood in English, French, Russian, or Spanish; English, though, is the language par excellence along all the China seaboard. So universal is it that a foreigner must needs know something of our tongue to make himself intelligible to the ordinary Chinaman; and, more remarkable still, there is such a vast difference between the spoken dialects of north and south China—nay, even between any two provinces in the "Flowery Land"—that I have known some of our native domestics from the Canton district, when talking with their countrymen of Chefoo, communicate their ideas and wants in English, because their own medium failed them; the difference between the native dialects being as broad as that between English and Dutch.

Though such a diversity exists orally, the written character is common, and expresses exactly the same idea all over the empire, and beyond it in Japan, Corea, and the Loo Choo islands.

The Chinese are splendid workmen, providing you can furnish them with a model or copy, for there is very little genius, properly so-called, attached to John Chinaman.

Their imitative faculty and powers of memory are really wonderful; as an instance of the former perhaps the following may not be amiss:—

"In the earlier days of the first occupation, the English residents of Hong Kong were often placed in difficulties about their clothing, Chinamen not having attained to that perfection in the tailors' art which they now have acquired. On one occasion an old coat was supplied to a native tailor as a guide to the construction of a new one; it so happened the old garment had a carefully mended rent in its sleeve—a circumstance the man was prompt to notice—setting to at once, with infinite pains, to make a tear of a similar size and shape in the new coat, and to re-sew it with the exact number of stitches as in the original."

The old stories we have heard at home about a Chinaman's tail being designed that by it he may be hoisted to heaven, and that if he lose it he may never hope to reach that desirable altitude, have really no foundation in fact, nor is it a fact, as sailors are apt to believe, that it is nurtured for their special benefit as a convenient handle for playing off practical jokes on the luckless possessors; the truth being that the "queue," now so universally prized amongst them, is a symbol of conquest forced upon them by their hated Tartar-masters. Previous to the seventeenth century the inhabitants of the middle kingdom wore their hair much after the style of the people of Corea, but after the Manchu conquest they were compelled to adopt the present mode.

The city of Victoria is very prettily situated on the slopes of an eminence which culminates in a peak at an altitude of 1300 feet, and from which a most charming and cheerful view of the sea on the one side, and the harbour and the yellow sand-stone hills of China on the other.

It is allowed to be the most cosmopolitan city in the world. Representatives of races far in excess of the Pentecostal catalogue, may be encountered in its streets in any hour's walk; men of all shades of colour and of every religious creed live here side by side in apparent perfect harmony. The Chinese who form the bulk of the population live entirely apart from the "Ung-moh" (red hair devils) as they flatteringly term us. English manners and customs do not seem to have influenced the native mind in the smallest degree, in spite of our charities and schools—a fact we cannot wonder at, taking into account our diabolical origin.

The town—by which I mean the European part of it—possesses many public and private buildings of almost palatial grandeur. Of these, Government house, the City hall—including the museum and reading room, the cathedral and college, the various banks, and the residences of the great merchants may be cited as examples. There is also a fine botanical garden, not nearly so large as that at Singapore, but perhaps scarcely less beautiful, and an extensive recreation and drill ground, where one may see curious sights! pigtailed, loose-robed Chinamen wielding the cricket-bat, and dealing the ball some creditable raps too.

There is perhaps only one good street in the colony, Victoria street or Queen's road; this traverses the city from end to end, and constitutes the great business thoroughfare of the place. After about an hour's walk along it, for the first part under an arcade of trees, we find ourselves in the filthy, unsavoury Chinese quarter, as the nose is careful to remind you if there be any doubt about it. They are certainly a very dirty race, these Chinamen; the dirtiest on earth, I should be inclined to say, considering their boasted civilization and vaunted morals; and, though compelled by our sanitary laws to live somewhat more cleanly than their enthralled brethren on the continent, still they are dirty, and I'll hazard to say a sight of the Chinese of this town would soon dispel any illusions one might have nourished to the contrary. A subsequent visit to the native city of Shanghai shewed us to what disgusting depths humanity can descend in this particular.

This enterprising people possess some very fine shops, where you can purchase every known European commodity at cheaper rates than of the European firms. Every shop has a huge sign-board depending from the top of the house to the bottom, whereon is recorded in vermillion and gold characters, not so much the name as the virtues of the man within, sometimes, too, his genealogical tree is appended. Such expressions as "no cheating here" or "I cannot deceive," are common, but, in nearly every case, belie the character of the proprietor, who is a living libel on the word honesty. Honesty! old Shylock even would blush for them.

Here, where there is protection for life and property, a shopkeeper surprises you at the rich and grand display of his wares. In China proper, a dealer dare not show all he is worth for fear of the mandarins, who, should one chance to pass that way, would in all probability, cast his covetous eyes on the poor man's property, and demand whatever had taken his fancy. Nor may a poor man be in possession of an article inconsistent with his position in the social scale—he may not be the owner of a tiger's skin, for instance, as none but mandarins and people of similar position, are permitted such luxuries. This reminds one of the time, not so very remote, when similar restrictions were placed on dress in England.

This system of mulcting is known all over China as "cum-shaw," a system, too, which I would advise all sailors to adopt in their dealings with the slippery race if they would not be robbed. The vendor dare not say nay to a mandarin; and, though it is a point of etiquette on the part of the big man to offer payment, it is equally a point of etiquette for the tradesman to refuse: a fact, it is said, the mandarin always calculates on.

In addition to the orthodox shop, the streets are lined with itinerants, orange stalls, betel-nut tables, heaps of rags, and sundries, baskets of vegetables of very strange appearance and strong penetrating odours, half-cooked roots and leaves—for the people never eat a well-cooked root or vegetable; it is from these principally that the intolerable stench is proceeding.

What the Chinese eat is a mystery, and such queer compounds enter into their menu that I would give everybody who dines with a Chinaman this advice—don't enquire too minutely into what is placed before you, or you will eat nothing, and so offend your host; bolt it and fancy it is something nice—and fancy goes for something at times, I can assure you. That it requires a tremendous effort on the part of the human stomach, the subjoined "Bill of Fare" of a dinner given to Governor Hennessey by one of the Chinese guilds will, perhaps, serve to shew:

Cats, too, are entertained as food, though I believe only by the extremely poor, to whom nothing seems to come amiss. One may frequently meet in the streets vendors of poor puss, easily recognisable by their suggestive cry, "mow (miow?) youk"—cat-meat!

One is struck with astonishment at the vast crowds which always throng the streets, each unit of which seems intent on some most important business, and looks as though its accomplishment absorbed his whole being. Perhaps it is only a few ounces of fish which he carries suspended from his ringer by a cord; but if it were the emperor's diamonds he could not conduct himself with more importance.

The ordinary means of conveyance in China is by the sedan chair, a sort of box of cane-work supported on poles for the convenience of the bearers, of whom there are generally two, but frequently as many as six. The riding is comfortable enough, and the springy motion imparted by the rider's weight is one of the pleasantest sensations I know of. Of course our tars, immediately they come on shore and see something new, want to find out all about it: hence sedan chairs are all the go, and a bad time the poor coolies have of it, too; for "Jack" is all motion, especially if he be in that semi-apathetic state known as "east half south," as it not unfrequently happens that he is. He compels his bearers to tax their powers of endurance to the utmost, urging them by all the endearing epithets in the nautical vocabulary to unheard-of exertions, regardless of the luckless pedestrians in the way.

Whilst we are on the return voyage through Queen's road, I must just say a word or two about the people's costume, which, as we observe, is nearly the same for both sexes; for if there be any difference, it is but slight in detail. Their dress is the most unbecoming and ungraceful it is possible to conceive, and yet, we are bound to admit, most refined. Had the women the redeeming quality of beauty, or the charm of a pretty face, possibly even this dress might appear to better advantage. A coarse-looking black or blue blouse, of that material known to us as "nankeen," a tiny apron confined to the waist by a slender scarlet cord—their only bit of bright color—short wide trousers, almost as broad at the bottoms as they are long, bare legs and feet—such is a vision of the Chinese woman of the working classes. The dress of a lady differs from this only in the nature of the material of which the garments are made—in their case, silk as a rule—stockinged feet, and silk shoes with thick while, though extremely light, soles. Nations, like individuals, have their fopperies; the celestials display this quality, particularly in the coverings for the feet. The shoe, especially of the females, is, beyond question, the most tasteful article in their costume. It is, as I have said before, made of silk, generally of a lavender, salmon, or rose color, embroidered in beautiful and artistic patterns of leaves, flowers, and insects. The soles are of the whitest doeskin; and so particular are they that they shall retain their unsullied appearance, that, like the cats, they seldom walk through a wet or muddy street.

The system of binding the feet of the women is by no means so universal as we have been led to believe, and we must confess to having been deceived in this matter; we all thought, probably, to have seen all the women with that useful member reduced to the dimensions of a baby's foot—instead of which, what do we really see? scarce one deformed woman in all our walks. Yet this nation considers this cramped, tortured lump (it has lost all semblance to a foot) an index of beauty.

Their hair is by far their finest possession, which, with their large almond-shaped eyes, is invariably of a black color. I once saw a Chinaman with red hair, and you cannot think how ludicrous his queue looked beside the sable tails of his brethren. The manner in which the women dress their hair is most wonderful, and materially helps to give them their uninviting appearance. They have a fashion of sticking it out around the head in the shape of a teapot, stiffened with grease and slips of bamboo. That this style of head-dress enhances their ugliness very few Europeans I think will deny; for some women whom we have seen, with their hair combed neatly back over their heads and coiled up in a trace behind, looked not altogether uncomely.

The head is dressed but once in ten days; and as the people sleep in their day clothes, the possibility is they entertain about their persons a private menagerie of those interesting creatures whose name looks so vulgar in print. It is one of the commonest scenes in the streets to see a Chinaman squat on the kerb-stone and turn up a fold or two of his trousers to manipulate these little pests; and even the high officials and well-to-do people look upon it as no outrage to the proprieties, to be seen removing one of "China's millions" from the garment of a friend or guest.