Lady Eureka; or, The Mystery: A Prophecy of the Future. Volume 2

“‘Where are you, my benefactor?’ shouted one.

“‘Speak to us, my preserver!’ cried another.

“‘Porphyry! Porphyry, our friend, we come to your rescue!’ exclaimed a dozen others; and I could hear them traversing the prison in every direction in search of me. My heart was so full at the kindness of these good men, that, had my strength been unimpaired, I could not have uttered a word; and I allowed my deliverers to pass the door without attempting to communicate to them the place of my concealment. A few moments passed, and they again approached. My heart beat more rapidly. I tried to husband all my remaining strength.

“‘Porphyry! Porphyry!’ shouted a hundred anxious voices.

“‘Porphyry! Porphyry!’ was echoed in every cell.

“‘Here, my friends!’ I exclaimed, as loudly as my feebleness would allow.

“‘That is him!’ they all cried.

“‘I know his voice among a thousand,’ said one; ‘and I am certain it came from within this chamber.’

“‘Down with the door!’ shouted others.

“In a moment a thousand hammers seemed to be vigorously driven against the door. The men cheered each other on in the labour: each exerted all his force; and in a few seconds the heavy bolts were shivered to splinters, and, with a piercing hurra! a crowd of eager friends burst into the cell. As soon as they saw my condition, their hearts were filled with commiseration.

“‘It isn’t a place to turn a dog in,’ said one, indignantly.

“‘The miscreants!’ muttered another.

“‘Look at these terrible chains!’ cried a third.

“‘The tyrants!’ exclaimed several.

“‘Let us carry him from this miserable hole; he is too weak to move,’ said a man whom I had befriended.

“‘I will bear a hand: he rescued me from a prison!’ exclaimed one.

“‘And I: he saved me from ruin,’ shouted another. And by these grateful creatures I was carefully carried into the open air, with my chains still about me, and in the wretched plight in which I had been found; where, on being shown to the multitudes of armed citizens that thronged the streets, I was received with shouts of triumph mingled with imprecations on my oppressors; and, accompanied by an escort of a hundred thousand men, I was conveyed in safety to my own house; my chains were taken off; and the most skilful physicians being immediately in attendance, I rapidly recovered to my usual state of health.

“I ascertained that, as soon as my seizure became known, the church bells were rung to arms, the stones in the streets were torn up, and barricades, which served to block up the thoroughfare from the advance of horse, and as intrenchments from which a galling fire could be poured upon the approaching troops, were formed across the streets. The first day, although there was great slaughter on both sides, no important advantage was gained by either party; and at night the soldiery remained under arms, and the people were busily employed in preparing to renew the conflict. Leaders were appointed of tens, of hundreds, and of thousands; and the grand point of attack was the arsenal and the ammunition magazines; while, at the same time, the military were kept sufficiently employed at all the posts they occupied. After a most obstinate resistance, the arsenal was carried; and the arms there found soon obtained owners willing to use them. Ammunition was acquired in a similar manner; and the result of these attacks gave to the popular cause a vast accession of strength. The barracks of the military, and the prison in which political offenders were incarcerated, were next sought out. The object of the attack on the former was to harass the soldiery as much as possible; and the aim of the latter was to find out my concealment, for the purpose of effecting my liberation. It was impossible to exceed the enthusiasm of the people when approaching the places where they imagined I was confined. They shouted my name, and rushed through the thickest fire with a valour that nothing could resist. Many of the prisons were pulled down after a fruitless search for the object they sought; and then they proceeded from these to others, till the day was spent. It was found impossible to approach the palace, as a chain of posts was established all round it, supported by an immense strength of artillery and powerful bodies of horse and foot, from which the citizens had been several times repulsed during the day; but at night, when the tired soldiery were endeavouring to snatch that repose which two days’ constant fighting rendered necessary, a simultaneous attack was made at every available point by a countless myriad of armed citizens; and, although they obtained possession of many pieces of cannon, after fighting desperately till daybreak, they found themselves compelled to retreat, with very considerable loss. After this, it was resolved to draw a line of strong intrenchments round this chain of posts, so as to prevent any communication or supplies reaching them from other parts of the city, or from the surrounding country, and then to crush in detail the resistance that might be offered at other positions; and this plan was being put in practice when my concealment was discovered, and I was set at liberty.

“The knowledge of the treatment I had received, while it inflamed the hearts of my countrymen, created for me even a more powerful sympathy than I had previously excited. As soon as I was able to attend to what was going forward, the leading men of the movement waited upon me, and communicated all that had transpired since my imprisonment; and, after assuring me that the enemy must surrender in a few days, or, if they moved from their position, be cut to pieces, they stated that they were commissioned by the people to offer me the chief authority of the nation, under whatever name or character I should judge most beneficial to the state. I need scarcely add that I refused the flattering gift. I did more; I told them the many attempts the late Emperor had made to force on me his distinctions, and their result. I told them that my object had been to live as a private individual, endeavouring to effect among my fellow men as much good as I had the power to create; that I had lived happily as one of themselves, and, as one of themselves, I wished happily to die. I told them that, as far as my advice and assistance could tend to their advantage, they might always command them. I endeavoured to prove to them the danger of changing the form of government, without being prepared with a better; and strived to convince them that it was much more to the interest of humanity, and to the advantage of the citizens, not to drive to desperation the powerful army still remaining, to which they were opposed; but, with the superiority they possessed, to attempt to bring about an adjustment of the quarrel between the government and the people, on such terms as should leave the latter nothing to desire, and the former no power to tyrannise.

“My suggestions were not received with the cordiality which they deserved. The deputation talked of the merciless slaughter of the citizens—the cruelty that had been exercised upon me—and the necessity of making an example of the offenders. I answered, that it would only be treading in the steps of our oppressors by desiring vengeance for injuries—that those who had been wronged could receive no benefit by the death of those who had injured them—that the evils the government had committed could not be remedied by their destruction—and that it was the most unwise policy a community could follow, to punish an offence that had been committed by taking a life, for it made it impossible that the offender should ever make amends to society for the mischief done. ‘Prevent as effectively as possible,’ said I, ‘the evil doer from repeating a wrong, and let him, by the exercise of virtuous inclinations among the community, outweigh the evil he has effected, and you will do more good than has been done by punishment since the creation of the world.’

“I regretted to observe a disinclination to follow my advice. The hearts of my companions seemed filled with resentment, and their minds with prejudice. Again they pressed on me the offers of the people, and again I refused; and then they took their leave of me, expressing their intention of acquainting the citizens with my resolution. I was most anxiously desirous that the warfare should terminate; and, knowing that the time was opportune for exacting the most favourable conditions for the nation from the government, I was eager to bring about an accommodation. The mass of my countrymen I found too much heated by the conflict to listen with a proper feeling to the peaceful measures it was my aim to accomplish. Arms were still in their hands, and the blood of their friends still stained the public streets. I published my sentiments among them in the most convincing form of which I was master; and, in addition to the opinions I have already stated, I offered, if they would intrust me with the office, to act as mediator, having powers to effect an arrangement between the contending parties on such conditions as would secure the liberties of the people on the most firm and enlarged basis, and reduce the influence of the crown to an extent which would not be dangerous to the community.

“Five days had elapsed since the contest commenced; and the troops were hemmed in around the palace, deprived of sufficient provisions, and harassed in every way that the valour and ingenuity of the citizens could devise. The ministers had now become as humble as they had before been intolerant. They attempted to bring about a reconciliation. They offered largely, and promised more. There they were, in the midst of sixty thousand picked men, trembling for the consequences of their own misgovernment; for they saw that the whole country was in the hands of the citizens, and that it would be impossible much longer to continue a resistance. Hitherto all their efforts at accommodation had been treated with studied indifference; but, having succeeded in procuring from the people the office I desired, I immediately set about communicating with the government the only terms upon which peace could be restored; and these were, that the ministers by whom the Emperor had been advised in his late measures should be banished from the court—never again to exert any authority over the people—and that half their estates should be confiscated to the relations of those who had perished in the conflict—that the Emperor should grant a charter to the people, by which all the privileges of freemen—right of opinion—liberty of conscience—a perfect representation of the popular will—unshackled trade—a liberal patronage of genius and industry—and the abolition of oppressive taxes and undeserved pensions should be preserved to them and their posterity for ever—that a standing army, beyond what was necessary to maintain security from foreign invasion, should no longer exist—and that no attempt should be made by the Crown either to punish any citizen who had assisted in the late struggle, or to repossess itself of the power which had been found so dangerous to the welfare of the people.

“I suppose these conditions seemed hard; for some days elapsed, and frequent attempts were made to have them rendered more agreeable. Not only did I refuse to alter them in the slightest degree, but I at last gave them four and twenty hours for consideration, at which time, if they were not accepted, I stated that I should insist upon unconditional surrender. Before the day was over, the conditions were agreed to—the charter signed and sworn to by the Emperor, in the presence of an almost countless multitude of citizens—the ministers, among whom, of course, was that unpitying man, Philadelphia, were banished from the city; half their estates were confiscated, and a new and more liberal administration chosen in their place—and, as the intelligence extended from one end of this mighty empire to the other, nothing was heard but sounds of congratulation and gladness, of thankfulness for the past, and hope for the future. All that I had desired was accomplished. The marks of the recent strife were soon erased. The citizens, returning to their social duties, ceased to think of the wounds they had received and inflicted; and all the blessings of peace began to flow in their accustomed channels. Had the struggle continued with the design of overpowering all opposition, and changing the form of government, the war would have been resumed in the provinces; might have been prolonged from father to son in efforts to restore the fallen dynasty; and, as a change, when attempted in a settled form of government, always produces an unsettled state of the public mind, the country would have been continually disturbed, and the happiness of the people rendered exceedingly insecure.

“All Columbia are satisfied with my exertions: they acknowledge the worth of what I have done. Even the Emperor seems desirous of paying me attention; and, although I have not much faith in his sincerity, his conduct serves to keep up the harmony which prevails. And, by my refusal to accept power at the expense of the happiness of my fellow-citizens, I have now the gratification of seeing the country prosperous, the people enjoying a greater degree of liberty than they have known for centuries, and the whole population vying with each other to show their estimation of my services. There is one thing that gives me peculiar satisfaction; and that is, your absence from the country at this eventful period. I know that, had you been here, your impetuous spirit would have hurried you into every wild and rash undertaking, and that you would have effected more mischief in a day than I should ever have been enabled to efface. Proceed with your voyage, Oriel, and when you return you will have reason to rejoice at the change which has been produced during your absence.”

Oriel Porphyry had read the preceding communication with intense interest; every moment stopping to regret that he should have been so far away at a period so important.

“Oh, had I but been there!” he exclaimed at the conclusion. “Here is a golden opportunity lost! The very moment for which I have so anxiously looked has escaped me. The great battle has been fought, and I not in the field. Surely, such a disappointment is enough to make one curse one’s destiny. My father’s notions are too chimerical. He is good—ay, the very best among the good; but his spirit is not young enough for the age. He should have crushed the hydra when he had it at his feet. Had I but been there! He will find, too late, that it is no use patching things that are radically bad: they cannot be mended; they are worn out, rotten, and useless. And that proud tyrant to have used him so inhumanly! Had I but been there! What a field there was for exertion, what splendid opportunities for daring valour! Perhaps a body of two hundred thousand armed citizens, all eager, all desperate, wanting only a leader to make them irresistible. Oh, this wretched fate, that kept me here like an inactive slave, while glory is to be won by a mere effort! And he was offered the supreme authority, and refused it? Noble, but unwise. He could confer more good on the people in a year than this thing, called an Emperor, can effect during the whole of his useless existence. Now the time is gone. The renown after which I yearn, the distinction and the power, would have been mine, had I been in the place where it might have been acquired. Had I but been there! How long am I to carry on this profitless existence? How long must I be forced to stifle my own energies, and live, from day to day, in the same dull round of inactivity? Must the wings of that spirit, that soars so far above the unambitious herd, still continue to be pinioned, leaving me to crawl upon the earth, following out the same ignoble purposes as those around me? Oh, deplorable fate! The rock to which Prometheus was chained, and the bird that pierced his vitals, are but types of the barrenness of my prospects, and the disappointed hopes that prey upon my peace. Oh, wretched destiny! The thirst with which Tantalus was devoured was a blessing, compared with the curse with which I am tormented. Eureka! Eureka! The greatness I have desired so earnestly, to make me more worthy of your excellence, has been waiting for my eager grasp, while I was far, far from its reach. Oh, had I but been there!”

CHAP. VI.

CHINA, ITS LAWS, CUSTOMS, AND PEOPLE.

The Albatross was just entering the Chinese sea, and making way in gallant style through the heavy waves. Her crew were numerous, and of picked men, chosen at the different ports at which the ship had touched since her departure from the pirates’ haunt on the Madagascar coast, by the experienced judgment of Captain Hearty. Several promotions had taken place among the old hands. Climberkin, who had distinguished himself on many occasions as a brave and skilful seaman, became second in command. Boggle, though liable to confuse his understanding with abstract speculations, was always to be depended upon in an emergency, and was honest, persevering, and well acquainted with the management of a ship at sea, and he was made second lieutenant. Loop was created a midshipman. Oriel Porphyry had offered to settle Ardent in comfortable circumstances in his native country; but he stated that having lost all that made dear to him the land of his birth, and having found so many kind friends on board the Albatross, he should prefer remaining in the vessel in any capacity in which he could be of service, and as he was known to be well qualified for the office, to him were assigned the duties of purser and captain’s clerk. As for Roly Poly, the offer of an empire would not have induced him to resign the custody of the roast and boiled; and he therefore continued absolute and undisputed sovereign of the cook-house. He seemed to be getting fatter every day. His back appeared to bend beneath the load of flesh it carried, and his huge black cheeks had become so large as to threaten to close up his eyes. To gain his good opinion, nothing was necessary but to praise his cookery; but as soon as any poor fellow attempted to find fault with the viands, or the way in which they were dressed, the abuse he received for what was considered his presumption and ignorance, made him glad to make his peace with the indignant cook upon any terms. For all this Roly Poly was held in much estimation by his shipmates. The important service he rendered with his mop was not forgotten; and though he was continually relating in a manner peculiarly his own, the way in which he had served out “dat ignorant jackmorass who sulted him by telling diclus impossumbilities,” the story was invariably received with the same hearty laugh and boisterous praise that marked the first hearing.

Although the manners of Captain Hearty and his officers were rather unpolished, the education which was common to all Columbians, and the experience they had gained in their profession, made them perfectly qualified to fulfil the duties they had undertaken; and the ship was as skilfully navigated, as if under the superintendence of the most gentlemanly officers in the service. As has before been stated, the commercial character of the Albatross had been changed by skilful hands for one of a more threatening aspect, nor was the alteration at all displeasing to the taste of Oriel. The only pleasure he seemed to enjoy with any zest, was in seeing the men exercised at the guns, practising at a mark, or engaged in improving themselves in the use of the broadsword; and in these pursuits he would join with intense interest, encouraging those who seemed anxious to excel, and rewarding those who evinced the most skill. His satisfaction at the arming of the vessel was increased when he considered the possibility of being attacked by pirates in the different seas that lay in the ship’s course, who might easily, as Captain Death and his associates had done, have made themselves masters of the Albatross; but who would now find it a matter very difficult to be accomplished.

“Come Zabra, I am plagued to death by my own thoughts. Cheer me with a song:” said Oriel Porphyry to his young friend as they sat together in the cabin.

“That you shall have, Oriel,” replied the handsome musician, as his hand ran lightly over the chords of the harp; “and I will try to humour your martial feelings to keep you in good temper with yourself. Listen to

“THE SONG OF THE HERO TO HIS SWORD.

“By all that’s glorious, ’tis a noble strain!” exclaimed Oriel, while his brilliant eyes flashed with excitement; “a strain fit to stir the heart to noble deeds. I feel my soul thrilled with an heroic spirit that would do battle even with the fierce enemy—Death! Give me a fair field and a good cause—a band of warlike brothers moved by the same mighty impulse as that by which I am now excited—and let us have fit weapons and enough of them, and we would sweep the oppressors of the world from the earth, like rotten reeds before a whirlwind. Wisely did the ancients honour their bards above all human greatness. Well was it that they gave them precedence and dignity and wealth in abundance—the gold chain round the neck, and the seat of honour near the throne. If they possessed but the power you have evinced, they were worthy of the first place and the richest gifts: for they must have been the leading spirits of the age—the movers of armies—the winners of triumph. What nature, with the common energies of manhood, could resist such a stimulus? Stone walls, the crushing iron, and the penetrating steel—would these be as obstacles in its way? Straws! Had I lived in those days, the leader of a warlike generation, and heard a song such as you have sung, I should have felt inclined to have exalted the bard above my own dignity, knowing that his influence upon the dispositions over which I ruled could be rendered far more effective for the purposes that gave me supremacy, than my own.”

“I expected it would move you in some measure,” said Zabra, gazing with affectionate interest upon the flushed cheek of his patron.

“Move me! would a mælstrom move me?” cried the young merchant. “It seems to have stirred the sluggish blood in every hidden vein and artery. My brain throbs as if it would move up the scalp in which it is confined, and the pulsations of my heart appear to have acquired the action of a boiling torrent.”

“I am afraid I have done mischief,” observed the musician anxiously; “I did not count upon producing so violent an effect. Let me undo the evil I have created by singing to you some lyric of an opposite tendency.”

“Where got you this power?” asked his companion, fixing a searching glance upon the lustrous eyes before him. “By what means gained you the rare art which you practise with such wondrous effect? Your’s is no common skill for the ignorant to admire; it is an influence which the most tutored in worldly wisdom must feel and worship. You never could have gained it while employed in the laborious idleness of a page. You are too young to have acquired it by study. What mystery is this you have gathered around you which gives you such a mastery over the affections of your associates?”

A slight tremor passed over the graceful form of the young musician: his eyes shrunk before the earnest gaze of Oriel Porphyry, and, shaded by their long dark lashes, were fixed upon the floor.

“I will tell you;” said he at length. “Although great care was taken with my education, from a very early age I was left much to my own inclinations; and being gifted with an extraordinary love for knowledge, and a rare facility in its acquirement, and a powerful tendency towards that knowledge which was most ennobling, I rapidly obtained a degree of intelligence which was rarely found even in a more mature period of life. There were two particular objects of study to which I for years dedicated an intense degree of attention: these were music and poetry. Music was a source of the most exquisite gratification to me at all times, and I applied diligently to make myself master of all its difficulties. In this, after constant application, superintended by the best masters, I succeeded, so as to be able to create at pleasure any effect I was desirous of producing. In the study of poetry I had no teachers, excepting the only teacher capable of giving instruction—Nature. I went amid the stir of leaves in the heart of the primeval forest; I stood beneath the dazzling glances of the countless eyes of heaven; I looked down upon the waters of the great deep, till I knew how to interpret its mighty voices; and the whisper of the wind to the blushing flower became to me a lesson full of an exquisite and impressive eloquence. There was not a sound in the air—a light upon the skies—a splendour on the earth—or a motion in the sea, that did not assist me in my study; for there were beauty and truth and power; and these are the constituents of all natural poetry. But there was something still wanting to breathe the spirit of life into the new conceptions that had been created in my nature. This I found; and from that time there has been a gladness in what I knew, and a purpose in what I did. Now let me remove the too powerful impression I have produced, by something more in accordance with my own sympathies. You shall hear ‘The Poet’s Song to his Mistress.’”

A symphony, full of the most touching interest, preceded a melody so impassioned, yet so sweet in its expression, and harmonised in so rich and masterly a manner, that the young merchant had soon all his faculties engaged in deep and earnest attention.

At the conclusion of this song, which Zabra sang with a thrilling pathos which must have reached the heart of his auditor, the two friends were interrupted by a message from the captain, to acquaint Oriel that a pilot had come on board to conduct the vessel up the river to Canton; and that if he wished to observe the Chinese coast, there was now an excellent opportunity. All thought of poetry and music seemed forgotten for the time; for the musician and the young merchant immediately hastened upon deck.

The Albatross was passing Macao, and steering her course towards Whampoa; and a group were on the quarter-deck noticing the appearance of the country, the junks and other strange vessels they were passing, and making observations upon what they saw.

“We are approaching a people,” said Fortyfolios, “who, if they are not the most ancient that exist, lay claim to an antiquity of which few could boast. They are the most extraordinary race on the globe, and the most unchangeable in their habits. Though they preceded the rest of the world in the march of civilisation; though they invented the arts of printing, and of manufacturing silk fabrics and porcelain goods; though they discovered the composition of gunpowder and the use of the magnetic compass; they have never progressed beyond these advances. Thousands of years have passed—nations that were not then in existence, in intelligence have left them far behind—and still they remain exactly as they were, and are not only indifferent to the improvements around them, but look upon all other nations as barbarians unworthy of their association. In vain have they been conquered: conquest could make no change in their habits or opinions. Among the most celebrated of their masters were the Manchews, a people doubtless so called from their attachment to cannibalism, by whom they were held in subjection for several centuries; and the English, who made a conquest of their empire when in the zenith of their greatness. Their subjugation by the latter was caused by their own pride and insolence. The Chinese were so impressed with an opinion of their own superior greatness, that they behaved to all foreigners who visited their shores for the purposes of traffic with humiliating insolence. They were only allowed to trade at one port, their merchandise was subjected to the most arbitrary duties, and their merchants were treated with every kind of insult. This was borne for a considerable period by the mercantile world, in consideration of the importance of their commerce, and the impossibility of finding their exports in other countries. But toleration only increased the audacity of the Chinese authorities. They proceeded to acts of violence: several vessels were plundered, and their crews were murdered, or carried away, and never heard of after. At last the English, having endured this treatment without being able to procure the slightest redress, determined on retaliation. From their possessions in India they invaded the Chinese territory with a powerful army, and at the same time ravaged their coasts with a naval armament that destroyed their shipping, plundered their towns, and laid their defences in ashes. The Chinese, as cowardly as they had been insolent, though possessed of an immense population and extraordinary resources, made but a feeble resistance, and were glad to purchase peace upon any terms they could make; but the English had discovered the weakness of their enemy, and had not forgotten the oppressions they had endured, and did not desist from the conflict till they had annexed the mighty empire of China to their immense dominions in India.”

“All very true,” added Tourniquet. “They were ignorant, bigoted, and slavish, but for all that they were the most prosperous nation under the sun, don’t you see.”

“Their prosperity was occasioned by the laws by which they were governed,” said the professor. “Industry was encouraged. Agriculture was pursued as the most honourable occupation, as one in which the emperor delighted; and obedience was inculcated as the first duty of a citizen.”

“But what was the spirit of their laws?” inquired Oriel Porphyry.

“Every father of a family was despotic in his own household: the emperor was regarded by his subjects with the same reverence that a family looked up to its domestic ruler; and an offence against the monarch was punished in a similar manner as an offence against the parent;” replied Fortyfolios.

“I can imagine no state of things so arbitrary and so contrary to common sense, don’t you see;” observed the doctor. “By such a law, whether a man be a drunkard or a profligate, a fool or a knave, he has unlimited supremacy over his offspring; he can punish with death when he pleases, and the poor wretches who acknowledge his relationship, dare not murmur. He is a father; and fatherhood, like charity, covereth a multitude of sins. There is nothing so ridiculous as this notion. No individual in the great family of nature is entitled to the slightest respect, unless he is respectable in his conduct. All relationship is an accident. A father has no right to the obedience of his child, because he is his father: that can only be the most absurd of claims; for he produced the child to please himself, and at the time could have no sympathy towards an object that was not in existence.”

“That cannot be disputed;” replied the professor. “But I must maintain, that obedience in a child, to a reasonable extent, ought to exist as a natural consequence of the care and anxiety of parentage.”

“Granted, with the limitations;” said the surgeon. “When a father brings up his child with a proper affection, affection from the offspring ought to be expected; but in no case has the parent a right to implicit obedience, unless he has so acted, and the law he wishes to make absolute is such as will not affect the welfare of the child. In many instances the son possesses more intelligence than the father; and yet, if parental subjugation were allowed, the wise must be held in subjection by the opinion of the ignorant.”

“I should imagine such a form of government likely to be very ancient;” observed Oriel.

“It is unquestionably of great antiquity, and derived from the patriarchal ages, when the oldest member of the family held supreme authority over the rest;” responded Fortyfolios.

“About as much as the ocean has originated from the drops of rain that fell from the sky, don’t you see;” added the doctor.

“I maintain that the progenitors of the Chinese were a nomadic race;” said the professor rather sharply.

“Granted; and what then?” inquired the surgeon, in his usual good-humoured manner.

“That they were a collection of single families,” continued Fortyfolios.

“So are all nations at the present time, don’t you see;” remarked the doctor.

“Not in the manner which existed at the age to which I allude;” rejoined his antagonist. “Every man dwelt in his own tent, surrounded by his children and his children’s children, and wandered with his herds and flocks, to wherever he could find them sufficient pasturage. He governed as a monarch with power of life and death, and the rules he found necessary to preserve his government he transmitted to his successor; till, the family increasing, it was found necessary that they should separate into distinct divisions, each having its own father or ruler, and, residing for mutual protection near each other, they constituted tribes. The rules, which the experience of the first father had found necessary for maintaining his authority, had been conveyed with modifications and additions through his successors, till they became possessed by the elders of the tribe, in whom all wisdom and government resided; until the increase of their numbers, and the want of sufficient accommodation, induced them to invade the more desirable territory of other tribes; and then it was that he who distinguished himself most in this warfare obtained supremacy over the rest, and having conquered other tribes, and rendered himself by his superior bravery the object of fear and admiration, he became king of all the people who acknowledged his rule, and governed them by the laws that had existed previously in his own particular family or tribe.”

“A very plausible hypothesis, but nothing more, don’t you see;” replied the doctor. “Doubtless all societies originated in one family, the supreme head of which did what he thought fit; but I doubt much whether he exercised such an authority as could sacrifice a life for an offence real or imaginary; or created any code of laws for the government of his relations. He did only what he thought necessary for the time; and whether that constituted a precedent or not, it is not easy to determine. The punishment which would be necessary at one time, might not be thought necessary at another, don’t you see. Where the judge is absolute, and has no constitution to guide him, it is the mood in which he may be when called upon to judge, that makes the sentence severe or mild; and every judge, being independent of any higher authority, and liable to act from prejudice or partiality, would create nothing but inconsistent decisions, which could never be tolerated as a code of laws. It is opinion that creates law. The heterogeneous mass of absurdities that the few promulgate to hold the many in subjection would not be tolerated except in a state of perfect slavery. Where there is any intelligence among the people, and intelligence must make its appearance sooner or later, every law that is found existing passes the ordeal of public opinion, and if it be unwise or unjust, it will not be regarded or its abrogation will be enforced. The multitude have a better notion of the difference between right and wrong, than is generally supposed; and nothing is so productive of a clearness of distinction in these things among the people than a proper simplicity and applicability of the laws by which they are governed. It is intelligence that produces opinion, don’t you see—and opinion that creates law—and law cannot long exist in opposition to opinion.”

While the disputants were intently engaged in their argument, Oriel Porphyry and Zabra had walked to another part of the deck, where the captain and his lieutenant were giving orders about the management of the vessel.

“Fine old country, this, captain;” said the young merchant.

“Yes, sir,” replied Hearty: “fine old country, certainly. They do say it’s as old as Methusalem; but I never was in sight o’ that coast, therefore can’t say what difference there may be between ’em.”

“You have been in this part of the world before, I should suppose?” inquired Oriel.

“Many times,” responded the old man: “I knows the place well. I’ve been afloat ever since I was a small craft as could hardly steer without capsizing; and there arn’t many seas in the world as I haven’t been over. John Chinaman and I are ’ticular acquaintances, because I’ve seen a good deal on him. He’s rather smart in his own notions o’ himself, but he makes a good reefer when aboard, and he’ll carry like a steam engine when ashore. Often when I’ve landed at this port from one or other o’ your father’s ships, I’ve seen him bearing sich loads as ’ould make a horse’s back bone unkimmen ticklish. We’re enterin’ the river now; and after sailing a few points west of north, we shall be nigh upon the first bar, from whence we must steer due west to Whampoa, where we shall cast anchor. You’ll have then to go about ten miles to the Factories, to which you must proceed in boats.”

“What strange looking ships these are;” remarked Zabra, pointing to several vessels they were passing.

“Ay, they are very queer shaped craft,” said the captain. “But John Chinaman’s no great shakes at ship-buildin’, although he thinks he’s wonderful. Look at that heavy lumbering junk. She looks like a great thick-headed old muff, as does’n’t know his helm from his taffrail. The Albatross would take the conceit out o’ her in no time. And look at these here outlandish looking barges—there’s no sense in ’em.”

“The country has rather an interesting character;” observed Oriel.

“It’s all accordin’ to taste,” replied Hearty.

“These here islands o’ sand ar’nt ’ticularly lovely to my thinking; and I can’t abide the ugliness o’ the craft.”

“In what manner do these people now behave to foreigners?” inquired Zabra.

“Why it ar’nt quite so bad as what I’ve read on in ancient history;” said the captain. “They’ve had a sick’ner for coming that sort o’ fun; but they coil up their noses pretty stiffish even now. They allow travellers to wander about and examine their notables, which they did’nt use to do; but I should recommend any fellow, who’s more nor ordinary ’quisitive, to look out for squalls. I have heard say as people ha’ been missed who was axing their way through the country; and not a spar or a bolt-rope on ’em ever heard on again.”

“About five years ago I was in this here part o’ the world,” said Climberkin, joining in the conversation; “and I had a very narrow escape o’ bein’ done for in that fashion. I was bo’sun aboard the Whittington, a reg’lar tip top merchantman, as Master Porphyry had in the China trade at that time, and after a wearisome cruise I had been jollificating up the country with a few mates, when I came alongside as smart a piece o’ China ware as ever I clapped my eyes on. Well, she did’nt understand none o’ my lingo, and I could’nt circumnavigate any o’ her’n; but we had signals flying at our eyes like winkin’, and we pretty soon heaved to, and were yard arm and yard arm, and looked at each other till all was blue again. I discovered that she belonged to the crew o’ a man-tea-maker’s ’stablishment, and got her livin’ pretty comfortable, by alays ’turnin’ over a new leaf (though she never did nuffin wrong to sinnify); and so I thought as how if that was the way o’ sailin’, I might bring her to book wi’ her own leave, without any botheration whatsomdever. Just as I was making way in the business, I received a ’munication from one o’ my mates, who was up to their lingo, that some half a dozen o’ the Chinamen with whom she ’sociated, were on a reg’lar take in about my consortin’ wi’ her, and had entered into a ’spiracy to nail down the hatches on my goings on. Me and my little frigate were in the habit o’ cruisin’ in a grove o’ prime timber, by the side o’ a rice field, and it was here-about’s that the man-tea-makers thought o’ dishing me as strong as could be; but I took care that they should meet wi’ a mighty difference. After preparin’ every thin’ as was necessary, I got my mates to lie in ambush, and began a courtin’ a way in a style as would make the jealousy rise out o’ a dead nigger. I had’nt been long at this here fun, when up comes the whole lot on ’em screechin’ like mad, and they bears down upon me threatenin’ the most completest spiflification as you can imagine. Their eyes flared up most immensely. Their teeth seemed playing at knives to grind; and they whirled about monstrous bludgeons that would have made no bones o’ me, had I suffered ’em to scrape my acquaintance. My cretur struck her flag and down she went; but before the teapots came to close quarters, I put my bo’sun’s whistle into play; and pulled out a pair of ‘do-for-you’s,’ as my mates coming up and showing the same signs o’ welcome, surrounded the poor devils in such a way as they could’nt move no how.”

“And what did you do with your rivals?” inquired Oriel, considerably amused by the lieutenant’s narrative.

“Why, I’d al’ays heard it recommended to do as you’d be done by,” replied Climberkin; “so we got the sticks from the Chinamen, and took the flavour out on ’em in a manner as left ’em nuffin to complain of. But we wern’t satisfied with such an act o’ justice. You must know that each o’ these tea-dealers has a tail to his head, from two to three feet long, o’ which he is as proud as is a peacock o’ his tail, and shaves all the rest o’ his cranium as smooth as glass. Knowin’ this, we’d brought lots o’ rosin and twine; and, while some o’ our chaps made ’em lump it if they didn’t like it most considerably, we spliced them all together from the small ends down’ards, for several inches, strong and tight as a patent cable; then, seeing a tree close at hand with the loveliest fork possible for our purpose, we hauled ’em up wi’ ropes over the branch till half on ’em hung on one side and half on the tother, by nuffin in the world but their own precious tails. Didn’t they raise a bit of a shindy! Such howlin’, such squallin’—such kickin’, such scratchin’—such a reg’lar rowdy-dow no set o’ humans ever made afore. And there we left ’em, as the ancient poet says, wi’ each partic’lar hair standin’ on end, while we crowded all sail to our own ship.”

“It was rather too bad of you, lieutenant,” said the merchant’s son, attempting unsuccessfully to look grave; “and I wonder you did not get yourself into trouble in consequence.”

“Why it did raise a smartish bit o’ a bobbery,” replied Climberkin; “but we all kept so snug aboard, and sailed so soon arter, that not one on us were diskivered.”

“We shall anchor immediately,” said the captain, returning to the group he had left to speak to the pilot. “Is it your wish, sir, to go ashore?”

“I must be at Canton without delay,” rejoined Oriel Porphyry.

“Man the galley, and get a boat’s crew ready to proceed up the river,” shouted Hearty to the second lieutenant.

“Ay, ay, sir,” was the ready reply; and while the boat was lowered into the sea, and all her appurtenances provided, Zabra and his patron made their arrangements for landing on the Chinese territory.

CHAP. VII.

A CHINESE POET.

In an elegant room, the floor of which was covered with clean white matting, while the furniture, consisting principally of a divan or sofa, mirrors, pictures, couches, Japan tables, and large porcelain vases, was of a superior description, cross-legged on the divan, eating sweetmeats from a small silver saucer, richly chased, which he held in his hand, sat a young man, of less than the ordinary stature, with a countenance that seemed possessed of a perpetual melancholy. He was dressed with the most studied effect. He wore a robe of dark rich silk, and over it a vest of delicate blue satin, beautifully figured. Upon his head, which was shaved, with the exception of a long lock of hair that hung from the crown over the shoulder, was a small black cap of fine felt, with the brim turned up, and the crown, of a conical shape, covered with a fringe of scarlet silk, having a peculiar button in front. Below wide trowsers were seen stockings of silk, remarkably thin, having their feet cased in small slippers of embroidered satin; and round his waist was a girdle, drawn very tight, to which was appended a small gold case, a purse, and a pouch of silk. Opposite to him sat Oriel Porphyry and Zabra, in their usual dresses, also eating sweetmeats from similar saucers.

“What an ineffable felicity I enjoy in being able to speak your language,” observed the young Chinese.

“I have no doubt you find it an advantage in your communication with foreigners,” replied the merchant’s son.

“An advantage!” exclaimed the other rapturously. “By the great Fo, ’tis the most superlative of enjoyments. I bless the gods that my mother was an Anglo-Indian, and that she conferred on me the exquisite gratifications arising from proficiency in the use of her language. My father passed a great portion of his life in India, and acquired a facility in its pronunciation which is rarely obtained by a Chinese; so that I was born with extraordinary advantages.”

“You were fortunate, certainly,” added Oriel.

“Fortunate! By the immaculate tail of Confucius, I was favoured beyond all experience,” cried his host.

There being nothing more to say on that subject, at least so the young merchant thought, he inquired—“Your father, I suppose, will be here shortly?”

“He is paying his devotions at the neighbouring temple. Long Chi enjoys a religious reputation, and he loves the society of holy men. But I was telling you of the indescribable happiness I possess in having acquired a proficiency in my mother tongue,” added Long Chi the younger. “I am blest with a poetic genius.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed Zabra, with some surprise.

“Wonderful as it may appear, the fact is what I have stated,” replied the young poet, putting down the silver saucer on a small japanned table before him, and opening the pouch at his side, from which he took a bundle of papers. “I may say that my compositions have attracted an extraordinary degree of attention in the world of letters. They are considered phenomena in literature, I assure you. Do not imagine I wish to overrate their value. I should not think of such a thing for the thousandth part of a moment; and to prove this to you, allow me to enrapture you with some of my effusions.”

“Certainly,” said Oriel, expecting at least to be amused.

“The effort of a profound sublimity I am about to breathe into your enlightened ears, you will have the intellectual discrimination to observe, is a perfect specimen of the true Anglian pastoral,” remarked Long Chi. “It has been created by that etherial sense of delicious enjoyment which your ancient poets called love. She for whose immaculate glorification it was called into existence, is a combination of miraculous excellencies—an incarnation of inconceivable perfections; and therefore your superior sagacities must not deem it at all more than ordinary extraordinary, if the merits of this indestructible conception fill you with a ravishing amazement.”

“From what you have said I should expect something particularly clever,” observed Zabra, evidently considerably amused by the poet’s phraseology.

“Clever!” exclaimed the young Chinese, with emphatic fervour. “By the great Fo you will find it supernaturally perfect.” Then arranging a rumple in his vest, and taking a glance of satisfaction at the reflection of his person in a large mirror beside him, with a slow and careful enunciation of each word, and a peculiar wave of the hand to mark the measure, the melancholy poet read the following verses:—