Narrative of the Circumnavigation of the Globe by the Austrian Frigate Novara, Volume II / (Commodore B. Von Wullerstorf-Urbair,) Undertaken by Order of the Imperial Government in the Years 1857, 1858, & 1859, Under the Immediate Auspices of His I. and R. Highness the Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian, Commander-In-Chief of the / Austrian Navy.

Shanghai, or Shanghai-Hein (the city near the sea), is divided into the Chinese city proper, enclosed within walls twenty-four feet in height, and the foreign quarter, which has been laid out beyond the walls since the year 1843, and is as much distinguished by elegance as by comfort. Old Shanghai, only accessible by three of the six gates with which it is furnished, contains 250,000 inhabitants in a superficial area of nine Li, or about two and one-third English miles, and, including the population of neighbouring towns, who are constantly flocking to and fro, about 400,000. The streets are filthy and singularly narrow, so much so that occasionally it is difficult for two men to pass each other, the small cross streets vividly recalling Venice, or the "lanes" of London. It is with difficulty, and only by a constant succession of cries and hearty buffets, that the bearers of merchandise can force their way through these intricate passages, and find their way to their destination. The houses, for the most part one and two storeys in height, usually consist of shops on the ground-floor, each with a flaming superscription in gigantic characters, which, the better to arrest the curiosity of the passers-by, is generally hung diagonally across the narrow street. The living throng, which throughout the entire day surges to and fro here, is so immense and so various that it leaves upon a stranger an impression even deeper than that made by the crowds and bustle of Piccadilly or Regent Street, on a fine day in the height of "the season." The grotesqueness and filth of almost everything that meets the eye rather adds to the singularity of the spectacle, and while the visitor on the one hand speedily finds ample justification for extricating himself from the din and confusion, he nevertheless encounters at every step some new object of attraction and absorbing interest.

Entering the city through the east gate, on whose walls, by way of example to the multitude, are suspended in sacks and wicker-work numerous skulls of rebels and murderers, on whom justice has been done, we find ourselves in China street, one of the principal streets of Shanghai, and in which are most of the best class of native shops. It is however no wider or cleaner than the other streets of the city, and might be termed a "lane" with far more propriety than a street. We were conveyed within the lofty, gloomy "enceinte" of the walls in the sedan-chair of the country, after which, under the guidance of Mr. Muirhead, an English missionary, who in the kindest manner had offered to be our cicerone, we proceeded to stroll through the town.

Close to the east gate we entered a book-stall, in which were heaped up immense piles of stitched books. A number of Chinese in white nankeen jackets, their foreheads smooth shaved, and each with a "tail" behind dependent to the heels, started forward to inquire the strangers' wants, and minister to them. Our inquiries however were by no means merely dictated by the desire to gratify a silly curiosity. A learned countryman, Dr. Pfizmaier, one of the profoundest of Chinese scholars, had intrusted us with a list of fourteen rare Chinese books, the purchase of which seemed to us specially desirable, and we accordingly made every exertion, with the assistance of our companion, himself well acquainted with Chinese, to crown our search with success. With one exception we succeeded in purchasing the entire catalogue, and therewith gladly brought to an end our wearisome stay of upwards of an hour in the close steaming book-shop, exposed the while to a more than tropical temperature.

Chinese authors are, it must be allowed, terribly prolix in the treatment of their subjects, and instances are by no means uncommon in China of works, especially those of an historical nature, extending to from forty to fifty volumes! Thus, for example, the "Seventeen Historical classics" consists of 337 parts:—"Mingschintschuen" (History of the most renowned ministers and statesmen), of thirty volumes:—"Singpu" (Lives of remarkable persons), of 122 parts:—the "Encyclopedia of Matuanlin," with its additions, even reaches the immense number of six hundred volumes!![126] Books are generally far from expensive in China; for a few dollars, comparatively, one may, owing to the cheapness of labour and of cost of production, purchase quite a large supply of ordinary literature.

Adjoining this book-shop is a public bath establishment, where for 16 copper cash[127] (rather less than 1d. sterling), one may get a vapour bath, while six cash more are paid for keeping custody of the habiliments. The bath is far from being elegant or comfortable, but when one reflects on such extraordinary cheapness, it seems as though the very utmost had been attained. It consists of a large apartment, filled with steam, which is from time to time renewed, by dashing hot water upon stones, maintained at a high temperature, while ranged in readiness all round are a number of tubs of cold water for cooling the bather. In one of these establishments about thirty persons may bathe at once, and as John Chinaman, despite his filthy manners, is passably clean about the body, as testified by the pains he is at with his head and hands, these places are as extensively patronized as they are greatly needed.

Our next stoppage was at a pawnbroker's, an institution which, to all appearance, has been far longer in vogue in China than in Europe, and is made great use of by the wealthy as well as the poorer classes. In the Celestial Kingdom, the same custom prevails as with us of pawning the winter habiliments in summer, and summer apparel in winter; and this not so much for the sake of the money borrowed upon them, as to have them kept in safety and carefully preserved, especially in the case of costly furs. In China the usual advance is of one half the value, upon a very low computation of the article pledged, for which the monthly charge is ten cash per 500, or twenty-four per cent. per annum. Whatever has not been redeemed at the end of three years, or of which the interest has not been paid, is put up to auction and knocked down to the highest bidder, the proceeds going to the benefit of the establishment. The utmost per-centage allowed by law is three per cent. a month; but it must not exceed two per cent. in winter, in order that the poor may be enabled to redeem the articles pledged. The broker gives a ticket for the articles pledged, which have a definite value, and may be sold in the street. Thieves find these establishments very handy for disposing of their plunder, as they deface or destroy the pawn-ticket so as to prevent the rightful owner from regaining possession of the stolen articles. When a pawnbroker sustains any loss through theft, or the outbreak of fire on his premises, he must make good to his customers the value of the destroyed articles that had been left with him as pledges. If, however, the fire has broken out in the house of a neighbour, he is only bound to pay one half of the loss he may sustain. The establishment is managed by fifty individuals, whom the concourse of people flocking in to pledge or redeem property keeps in constant activity.

Considering the notorious and openly avowed indifference everywhere manifested throughout China for the poor, the sick, and the unfortunate, the number of charitable institutions to be found in all parts of China is very surprising, all which, as has lately been proved, do not owe their origin to the introduction of Christianity, but had been in a flourishing condition for a long time previously. Thus in several of the streets of Shanghai, we came upon hospitals for children and foundlings (  ), of the latter of which the one we visited was founded by voluntary contribution so far back as 1710. This humane institution has a landed property of about 30 acres, by the produce of which, as well as frequent public collections, it is supported. In 1783, this orphan hospital was amalgamated with an asylum for old and decrepit persons, and others incapacitated for labour, and one wealthy Chinese gentleman provided 3000 taels[128] for this praiseworthy object, but somewhat later this joint plan was abandoned, and the Orphan Asylum remains to this day self-supporting, while the poor, the sick, and the aged are relieved every month at the Custom-house out of funds specially set apart.

At the period of our visit we found thirty infants in the building, who had been deposited by their mothers in a basket suspended in a recess at the entrance. After the new-born child has been deposited, a signal is given with a bamboo-stick, after which the receptacle is turned inwards and the innocent without delay taken charge of. Each child has its own wet-nurse or attendant.

The building is lofty, roomy, and passably clean, but the children, one and all without exception, have a sickly appearance, and seem to suffer much from eruptions and affections of the eye. There was not one child above two years of age. It is worth recording that every one of these children was of the female sex; their male offspring, even when illegitimate, the mothers seem much less disposed to part from. It frequently happens, moreover, owing to the low considerations in which the female sex are held, that even legitimate children of that sex are occasionally committed to the silent receptacle of the foundling's basket.

We inquired of one of the overseers what was the destiny of these unhappy children when they grew up, but could get no satisfactory reply. We were informed that they were occasionally adopted as children by those who had no family. But more extended inquiries leave us rather inclined to believe that these poor waifs of humanity constitute a not inconsiderable contingent to that unhappy class of beings who, carefully brought up, clothed, and fed by speculative foster-mothers, are at a suitable age sold for concubines to the well-to-do Chinese.

One very remarkable charitable institution, for which there is no parallel in Europe, is the Tûng-jin-tang (  ) or Hall of United Benevolence, founded by a number of philanthropists in 1804, for the interment of the poor. This establishment, through its legacies, donations, and voluntary contributions, speedily became so wealthy that it has been enabled to take up, in addition to its original business, other objects of a not less humane nature. It pensions poor widows of respectable families with 700 cash (about £1 8s.) per month; it presents persons above 60 years of age, if sickly and unable to work, with 600 cash (about £1 4s.) a month, and provides, free of charge, wooden coffins, as also digging implements, for those who are too poor to inter their dead relatives. Another humane occupation of the society is the interment of coffins containing dead bodies, which used to be exposed on the bare ground in various parts of the city. Finally, it was the intention of the founder of this charitable institution, so soon as the money should permit, to erect schools for the poor, to provide warm clothing in winter for the helpless, as also to buy up animals destined for the slaughter-house, and set them at liberty again.

The proceedings connected with the direction of the institution are transacted in public, and the managers for the time being are bound to furnish for each year a detailed report[129] of the management. This humane institution has since its foundation undergone many reforms, and at the period of our visit was confining its sphere of usefulness to three main objects: 1st, The pensioning aged and broken-down persons of both sexes, with 600 cash a month. These however were not supplied with the money, but were for the most part taken into the house itself, or at least supported through it. 2nd, The dispensing free of charge of various so-called universal medicines, for headache, stomach-complaints, fever, diarrhœa, spasms during the unhealthy season (June to October). On the 3rd, 8th, 13th, 18th, 23rd, and 28th of each month (that is, on every date ending with a 3 or an 8), during the continuance of the sultry, damp, unhealthy season there was also provided for the sick and poor, gratis, advice from Chinese physicians in the great hall. 3rd, The furnishing coffins for the interment of those who died without means, or on payment in part by families not altogether penniless. In one of these extensive magazines we saw a coffin bearing the number 1084, which was just coming into requisition. During 36 months 1000 coffins and upwards had been supplied to poor families for the interment of their dead! As we were leaving the building, we remarked in the principal apartment a large quantity of paper, partly written upon, partly in shreds, all heaped up. On inquiry as to the object of this collection, we were informed that it was for no industrial purpose, but solely to be ascribed to the profound respect the Chinese have for every sort of writing. They regard written leaves as positively holy, and are particularly careful that no written paper shall chance to fall into improper hands, that might make a wrong use of it. For this reason the society pays for every pound of old waste paper which the poor of Shanghai pick up in the street and bring to the Institution three copper cash, and when the pile has attained a sufficient height it is set on fire at a particular season.

Built in close proximity to this "Hall of United Benevolence" is the sanctuary of the medical profession, or, as Mr. Muirhead translated for our benefit the gigantic Chinese inscription over the portal, "the sacrificial hall of the medical faculty." This is a temple erected at the expense of the nation to a celebrated Chinese physician, whose stature, in an easy, erect attitude, cut in wood the size of life and richly gilt, is erected upon a platform somewhat resembling an altar. Part of the drapery consists of gigantic leaves, while his folded hands clasp a lotos-flower. In front of the image is placed the inscription: "The shrine of the spirit of the King of Medicine." Above the idol are the following words in Chinese, cut in the stone and gilt, "The divine husbandman and sacred ruler!" and thereafter, "For all ages the instructive teacher."

This renowned physician had, it seems, instituted many experiments on himself with new healing remedies, and according to popular belief had attained to an exact knowledge of all that was going on in the human frame, so that he could point out the seat of the malady by simply placing a piece of common window-glass upon the pit of the patient's stomach, and looking into it!

Adjoining this College of Health is the city prison, or Tschi-hin, in which, when we saw it, were confined about 100 prisoners in the various wards. In that set apart for the worst class of criminals, we saw about 40, heavily shackled and manacled. Three of these were confined in low wooden cages, about three feet in height and width, and four feet in length, and fastened to each other by iron chains running through. These men also wore iron rings on their feet. One of these unfortunates was sentenced to 70, and each of the other two to 60, days of such durance, without being suffered for one moment to come out from the cage, which was placed on the ground, and like a hen-roost, was provided with perches running through it, so as to interfere still further with freedom of movement. Their food consisted of rice and vegetables. According to their own showing, these three were sentenced to this terrible punishment in consequence of some affray, but we had reason to believe that some more serious matter was the real cause of their having this penalty inflicted on them. We gave the unhappy wretches a few pieces of silver. Each hastily secured the donation in a corner of his cage, and seemed in his forlorn condition doubly sensible of the value of a metal whose influence, especially in China, is so powerful, so all-pervading, and so infallible.

One very peculiar institution is the Wei-kwan, a sort of Council Chamber, situated on the N.E. side of the city between the walls and the river, in which all matters in dispute between mercantile men are adjusted, and in conjunction with which is a temple in honour of the goddess of the seas (Tien-Mú). In the centre of the council-room is a large elegantly-shaped iron pan (Schang-Lú), in which the merchants and seamen frequenting the hall burn slips of paper, on which are written the wishes of those making their offerings. Also money, fruit, &c., are here sacrificed, and Chinese mariners, whose "junks" have come unscathed through a storm, or have been preserved, make their thank-offerings in the shape of elegant little models of their ships, which are placed in various parts of the building. This hall was founded in 1270 by the Sung dynasty, on a site where certain Chinese believed they had observed that the tumultuous tide of the Whampoa river gradually lost its violence, as it approached the spot, a phenomenon which to them seemed of marvellous significance. Under the Yuen and Múi dynasties the temple was repeatedly plundered and burnt to the ground, but was rebuilt through the influence of a Tao-priest. In 1735, an imperial edict ordered the observance of certain religious ceremonies from time to time, an example which has been followed to the present day.

Directly facing the goddess of the sea (called also Kwan-Yin, Queen of Heaven),[130] who is represented by a life-size figure placed at the bottom of the apartment, a large stage is erected, on which Chinese dramas are represented for their entertainment from 10 o'clock in the morning till nightfall.

In one part of the immense pile of buildings there are also provided dwellings for such Chinese merchants as visit Shanghai from the interior of the kingdom, and have neither friends nor relatives in the city with whom they can take up their residence, for public taverns are in China only frequented by the very lowest classes. We entered one of these Chinese hotels, which we had come upon during our ramble, and inspected the eating-rooms and bed-rooms, which are usually situated on the first floor. The usual charge is from 100 to 140 cash a day for board (4d. to 6d.), and from 20 to 40 cash for lodging (1d. to 2d.). The gloomy, filthy, cavernous aspect of each room makes even a moment's stay intolerable. The victuals supplied consist chiefly of rice, vegetables, and fish. In the interior, board and lodging in these taverns is very much cheaper, and the well-known and highly meritorious English missionary Dr. Medhurst, who, in 1845, traversed, in the dress of a Chinese, a large portion of the silk and tea districts, relates that the customary charge for supper, bed, and breakfast next morning altogether amounted to 80 cash only, or about 3 ³⁄₈d.![131] In the streets of Shanghai, the eating-houses are greatly out-numbered by the tea-houses, where one gets a cup of tea for 6 cash (¹⁄₄d.). These, like our own cafés, are laid out with little tables, stools, and benches. As soon as a guest enters and takes his seat, a Chinese attendant brings a cup, throws into it the proper quantity of tea-leaves, and pours boiling water upon it. After the lapse of a few minutes the hot light yellow liquid is hastily swallowed, but avoiding the leaves which are swimming on the surface, and usually serve for a second or even a third infusion. These tea-houses are crowded with visitors throughout the day, who sometimes transact business here over a cup of tea and a pipe of oiled tobacco, sometimes resort hither to wile the time listlessly away.

The chief place of amusement, however, of the native population of Shanghai is the Tea-Garden (Tschin-Huang-Mian), or temple of the Emperor, which contains numerous gardens laid out in Chinese fashion, and booths of all sorts, besides the attractions of jugglers, singers, actors, soothsayers, musicians, and mountebanks, all driving their respective avocations. The whole scene is eminently characteristic of the grotesqueness of Chinese taste. Artificial canals and tanks filled with green stagnant water, redolent of miasmatic effluvia, amid which the Lotos opens its lovely white blossoms, quantities of zig-zag bridges with beautifully carved balustrades, islands with artificially constructed rocks and grottoes, subterranean passages, flags of all shapes and sizes, bearing the most bombastic inscriptions—such are the chief attractions of a Chinese People's Garden, every large town boasting one such, erected at the expense of the State, in which from early morning till late in the evening a vast crowd of human beings is incessantly surging to and fro, intent on pleasure, dissipation, or profit. The rabble, however, have not access to every part of the Tea-Garden, a certain portion being set apart for the recreation of the chief officials of the city (Táu-Tái). This portion, shut off by a lofty wall, is elegantly laid out, and is made attractive with all manner of dwarf trees nursed with great care and expense, besides the usual grottoes, artificial hills and precipices, pavilions, &c. Hither the head magistrate occasionally resorts to pass the warmest hours of the day, and dozes away undisturbed by the cares of his onerous responsibilities. All the public gardens of China present almost the identical features of the one we visited; a park without artificial islands and wooden bridges, without canals (in lieu of paths), without pools of stagnant water thickly covered with the broad leaves of the Nelumbium, would, in the eyes of a Chinese, be deprived of its chief pleasure and its greatest attraction.

Close to the Tea-Garden is the largest Buddhist Temple within the city walls, in which throughout the day the over-credulous Chinese kneel before their idols, and with many reverences murmur their set formulas of prayers. Like everything else in China, even religious observances are regarded from the most practical point of view. They think they have done enough when they have gone through a certain round of outward ceremonies. The condition of most of the temples, the utter neglect of some, and the various employments of others, indicate that the Chinese either has no sense of the sanctity attaching to such places of devotion, or else attaches but little value to the act itself. The men rarely enter the temples. It is only the women who, to satisfy the cravings of the heart, have recourse to invoking the Deity. Frequently one sees a worshipper approach the attendant sitting in the porch of the temple, in order to get their horoscope calculated by him for a few cash. For this purpose she shakes with eager devotion a box of bamboo-cane filled with thin wands, until one of these wands springs out. The words inscribed on each wand furnish the oracle-expounder with an infallible sign, by which, after consulting one of the books of Chinese wisdom spread out before him, he is enabled to pronounce the answer of the divinity to the prayers preferred by the poor dupe. The most prolific source of revenue of the temple and its ministrants, consists, however, in the sale of the gold and silver tissue paper,[132] which plays so important a part in the worship of the Chinese, and owing to their zealous and frequent use are heaped up in immense piles, for consumption by fire in a gigantic furnace.

Much more edifying than the interior of the great Buddhist temple with its troops of swag-bellied idols in their parti-coloured apparel, some with a good-humoured leer, others sulkily scowling on the beholder, is the appearance of the temple of Confucius[133] in a remote quarter of the city. In this extensive building, at once elegant and simple, and with numerous halls and corridors, the scholars undergo their examination for the service of the state; here the Government officials at stated seasons perform certain religious ceremonies, and here all the literati assemble for the discussion of grave questions of debate. The main hall has its red-tinted walls covered with Chinese and Tartar inscriptions, all of which refer to Confucius, his doctrines and his wisdom. At intervals, a number of tablets let into the wall inform the visitor that this edifice is devoted to the instruction of the virtuous, and the cultivation of the endowments. At the same time every person who passes this in a sedan-chair or on horseback, whether an official or one of the people, is compelled to quit his vehicle and traverse the consecrated space on foot. Over the entrance to the right is written: "His virtue is comparable to Heaven and Earth;" and above the door to the left we read, "His teachings comprise all the wisdom of ancient and modern days." Behind the temple is a smaller edifice, dedicated to the five progenitors of Confucius. The temple itself is similarly surrounded with various apartments, all, as their bombastic inscriptions announce, devoted to the honour and advancement of knowledge. One of these chambers is dedicated to the god of Literature, another to the guardian spirit of Science. The latter is curiously represented as a figure holding in one hand a stylus, in the other a lump of silver, emblematic, we presume, of "man through wisdom attaining unto riches."

In every city throughout China there is, as well as a tea-garden, a temple in honour of the great teacher Kong-fu-tse, whose knowledge and whose moral system, 2400 years after his mortal pilgrimage, instruct and gladden not merely his own countrymen, but all admirers throughout the world of what is noble and virtuous.

Among the various monasteries of the city, we visited one of the Taouists, called the Du-Kung or Great Mirror (probably of Virtue), where strangers provided with introductions are received and entertained at 150 cash (6d. per diem). This cloister, whose sole inhabitants are some five or six Chinese monks, is situated close to the wall, and forms one of the best points whence to obtain a view of the entire city.

The Taouists, who follow the Tao, the "way of knowledge," and arrogate to themselves a more profound insight into the mysterious powers of nature, as well as more special acquaintance with and definite powers over good and evil spirits, are disciples of the doctrines of Lao-tse,[134] and are extensively scattered throughout the country, although at present, in consequence of their losing themselves deeper and deeper in a slothful, sensual mode of existence, their proselytism is proceeding at a much slower ratio than formerly. It is purely accidental that there is immediately adjoining the Taoui monastery a convent known as that of the "White nuns," a small one-storey building, kept however singularly neat and clean. Here we saw six Buddhist nuns, with close-shaven heads and in long white dresses, which gave them quite a masculine aspect. They received us with much courtesy, and escorted us round the various apartments with considerable empressement. They were mostly widows, who pass their lives here in calm retrospective contemplation, and occupy themselves with preparing little articles for the Buddhist ritual, such as censers, tapers, printed sacrificial papers, &c., with which apparently they contrive to support themselves. These associations (Ni-koo) were usually founded by legacies and donations by pious Chinese, and are exceedingly useful as providing an asylum for poor, helpless women, weary of life. Many widows withdraw into these abodes of peace, there to pass the rest of their lives, free from the tumult of the world, in the exercise of devotion and of works of neighbourly love and charity. Nevertheless, if we are to believe common report, works of piety are not the only objects occasionally pursued in these Buddhist convents, and the web of intrigue and amorous adventure, of which they have frequently been the scene, has not a little tended to lower the estimate in which these religious societies are held, and even threatens to cut short their existence. A people of such a materialistic mode of life, and such ant-like industry, as the Chinese, who rarely know what it is to have one holiday in the entire year, must involuntarily look with argus-like eye on all religious communities, which pass their time in luxurious ease and exemption from care, without in any way advancing the well-being of their fellow-creatures by either mental or physical labour.

In the course of our peregrinations through the streets of Shanghai we also came upon the shop of a Chinese apothecary (Yak-Tien), which externally bears a considerable resemblance to a similar establishment in Europe, but widely differs in respect of details. The Chinese Materia Medica is especially abundant in patent medicines, the use and application of which, it must be allowed, is frequently of the most extraordinary nature.

According to the latest researches of Dr. Hobson, of whose important services in the diffusion of European medical science in China we shall have much to say in a future page, we are acquainted with 442 drugs from among the three great kingdoms of Nature, which must be kept in every well-stocked Chinese drug-store, of which 314 belong to the botanical, 78 to the animal, and 50 to the mineral world. We shall, however, in this place only indicate those of which Chinese physicians avail themselves most frequently in the preparation of their medicines, such, for example, as birds' nests, dried red-spotted lizard, the fresh tips of stags' antlers, the shell of the tortoise, dogs' flesh, bones of animals, preparations from various parts of the human body, whale-bone, oyster-shells, skins of snakes, shark's maw and fin, tendons of deer and buffalo, dried silk-worms, their larvæ and excrement, bamboo shavings, the bear's gall, preparations from human fæces, scraped rhinoceros and antelope horn, rabbit dung, cuttle-fish bone, dried varnish, dried leeches and earthworms, red marble, refuse of ivory, preparations from toads, petrifactions, old copper money,[135] snow-water,[136] human milk,[137] &c. &c.

These pharmaceutics are brought from various parts of China, as well as from Japan, Siam, and the Straits of Malacca, and constitute an important and profitable branch of commerce. Many of them are sold at the druggist's in the raw state, when they are used as sympathetic remedies, amulets, or generally for external use. The Chinese druggists sell their medicaments for the most part in the form of powders or pills. These latter are usually made up in a capsule of bees-wax for greater facility of administration, so that the dose as it comes from the shop resembles those small wax-cakes used by house-wives for waxing their thread. One such cake contains four or six pills, called Tzi-páu-tan, or very costly pills, which are used as a sort of universal specific against fevers, affections of the digestive organs, headaches, &c. &c.

The most valuable and costly article in the Chinese pharmacopœia is, however, the Ginseng (Panax Ginseng, or Panax Quinquefolia), which is chiefly found in Mantchooria and the deserts to the north of the peninsula of Corea. The circumstance that the Ginseng is still a monopoly of the Chinese Government, only a few privileged individuals being annually permitted to purchase a certain quantity for its weight in pure gold, has much more to do with its efficacy as a panacea than the benefits conferred by its curative powers. The roots are about the size and thickness of a man's little finger, and break short off when bent. When cleaned they are transparent, and of a dark amber colour.

Of the Ginseng there are three qualities sold in the Chinese drug-stores. One leang or ounce of the best (the largest and finest) costs 50 dollars, of the medium quality five dollars, and of the most inferior quality one dollar. The Ginseng root is also found in Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Canada, and is thence exported to China, but the Chinese prefer that of their native forests, even though these are very much dearer, and there is hardly any difference to remark between them. As the plant is only found in the wild state, and obstinately resists all attempts to cultivate it, its collection among the forests of North America is attended with great hardship and expense, and whereas in former years the profit realized on this article of commerce by English and American merchantmen amounted to from 500 to 600 per cent., it is now reduced to a very moderate proportion.

A more general subject of interest is presented by the shops where is sold the porcelain-ware, the manufacture of which dates from a very remote period of Chinese history, and was already a flourishing trade at the commencement of our historic epoch. Indeed we may reasonably assume, notwithstanding the beautiful specimens of the art which from time to time are brought to light, that this special branch of industry is at present in a state of decline, while of many kinds of porcelain manufacture no examples can now be shown, as the secret of their manipulation has perished. What usually interests Europeans in these shops is what is known as "crackle" porcelain,[138] the upper surface of which everywhere presents broken lines, so that the entire vessel appears as though it consisted of numbers of small pieces cemented to each other, the whole having very much the appearance of Mosaic. But this description also is no longer manufactured of the first quality in the present day. Antique porcelain is of extraordinary value, but specimens of modern manufacture, such as small figures, mannikins, &c., are very cheap, and are much the same as those imported to Europe.

One marked partiality of the Chinese is their fondness for suspending grasshoppers in small elegant baskets of bamboo strips, or twisted wire, in which, whatever the season or the weather, these little captives keep up a constant pleasant chirping. This custom is of great antiquity, and while one even now finds among the populace of the present day some of these chirpers thus carefully tended, there once was a time when the grasshopper was the object of universal adoration, and enjoyed all the honours of Fashion. They were indebted for this singular good fortune, according to the abbé Grosier,[139] to a poor scholar under the Thang dynasty, in the 7th century of our era, who to relieve his poverty fell upon the singular expedient of trading in these insects. He went into the country, selected the most beautiful insects he could find, constructed elegant little cages for them, and returning to the city offered them for sale in the most frequented streets of Tschang-gan. The idea was novel, and the wealthy upper classes speedily found a charm in having the music of the fields thus transplanted into their houses. The Empress, the Queens, the ladies of the Palace, in a word, every one was eager to possess these songsters of the meadow. There was actually an enactment passed for the supply of the Imperial Palace with the requisite number of these insects. The fashion rose to a perfect mania—the little Zirperu was encountered at every corner—it was taken out whenever a call was paid—the whole city resounded with its shrill cry. The fine arts, and every branch of industry, felt its impulse. There was no textile fabric, no embroidery, no design, no vessel, on which it did not conspicuously figure. It was represented in metal and in jewellery, and no handsome lady thought her toilette complete, unless she sported a grasshopper among her hair. This mania has died out in China, but the buzz of the insect still continues to furnish matter of amusement for the populace and children of all classes, and they are still caught in large quantities, and exposed for sale in the streets. Singular to say, all ancient and modern writers, if we are to judge by their delineations, describe these insects as cicadæ, whereas it was shown and proved by the researches of one of the zoologists of the Expedition, that the insect is no cicada, but a species of grasshopper (Decticus), which, so far as appears, has never hitherto been described. Very probably the circumstance that the noise made by each of these insects is very similar, gave circulation to this error of upwards of a thousand years' standing, whence people would without further examination take it for granted that the insect confined in the cage belonged to that species whose place in natural history, and whose special musical qualifications, mankind had so long been familiar with. One of these grasshoppers was kept for months in such a cage on board our ship, and chirped away lustily, fair weather or foul, even when confined in a close cupboard. On the other hand, some cicadæ, with which similar experiments were made, lived only two or three days in captivity. None sang, unless when teased, or when a number more were introduced into the vessel, thereby incommoding them, and none took nourishment. It was obvious that the cicadæ possessed none of those characteristics which would enable them to be kept in captivity as pets, whereas, on the other hand, the grasshoppers and crickets were especially adapted for that purpose.

We were anxious to visit a variety of other interesting places, ere quitting the sultry, gloomy Chinese city on our return to the more genial European quarter. But evening was already setting in, and after sunset the gates of the city are closed, and neither Chinese nor European can after that hour obtain access to the city. Whoever is belated must find shelter for the night in the house of some hospitable friend, until with the first break of morning the gates are re-opened, communication is restored with the foreign quarter, and the previous day's scene of bustle is renewed.

The next object which excited our interest was a Chinese school. Ascending a wooden staircase, we enter a room, quite empty but for a table and stools, in which a haggard woe-begone Chinese, with long tail and rod in hand, is walking to and fro, while at a table some dozen of boys of from eight to twelve are engaged in reading. Their loud accents may be heard down in the street outside. The cost of the schools for the people is chiefly defrayed by voluntary subscriptions, foundations, &c. &c. The children of the middle classes pay for nine months' instruction, three Spanish dollars. Many teachers have more than a hundred scholars, and thus earn about 1000 dollars per annum. These, it is true, are exceptions, but teaching as a profession seems on the whole to be fully better remunerated in China than in European countries. There it is in much higher estimation, and receives better recompense. The wealthy Chinese usually engage private tutors for their children, who, as among ourselves, usually form part of the family. Elementary education is almost universal throughout China. There are but few Chinese who are not at least able to read and write. One very gratifying instance of the prevailing religious toleration, well worthy of example in the Christian states of Europe, is the presence of Protestant and Catholic places of worship in the midst of Buddhist temples, and other edifices dedicated to heathen worship. The American Episcopal church, erected in 1850, at the expense of a wealthy merchant and ship-owner of Boston named Appleton, at a cost of 6000 dollars, already numbers eighty converts. It is an extremely simple yet neat-looking place of worship, quite in the style of the chapels in the Western portion of the American Union, and has in connection with it a school numbering about forty native scholars. Every Sunday morning at ten, a sermon is preached, which is attended by most of the foreign community. Far grander and more imposing in plan and fittings is the Catholic cathedral of Tong-Kadú, confessedly the finest place of Christian worship throughout China. The construction of this building was commenced by voluntary subscription in 1846, and completed in 1852, the total cost amounting to 230,000 leangs, or about £65,000. Within there is a large organ, constructed by one of the lay brothers of bamboo pipes, whose saddening yet inspiring notes, heard in the festivals of the Church, invite the Christian community far and wide to devotion and instruction. At present this cathedral is under the charge of a bishop of the Order of the Jesuits.

Our road from the Chinese city to the European quarter led us past an establishment which bore interesting testimony to the industrial activity of the Chinese. It is an oil factory worked exclusively by natives, and giving employment to about 400 workmen, besides 80 draught oxen. The oil is extracted from indigenous beans, and is so copious, that 1400 catties (1750 lbs.) of oil are procured daily, which is worth 74 cash per catty (about 3 ³⁄₄d. per lb.), and is used both for cooking and for light. The residuary oil-cake, after expression of the oily matter, is used as manure.[140] A workman may earn at this description of labour from 100 to 200 cash a day (4d. to 8d.).

As we left the manufactory, and were bending our stops towards the little Eastern gate, our gaze was suddenly attracted by a spacious and elegant mansion, evidently the property of a well-to-do Chinese. This, as we were informed by our companion, proved to be the residence of the Wuong family, which ranks among the five oldest and most distinguished families in Shanghai. There is to be seen in the neighbourhood a small stone memorial shaped like a mausoleum, which, with the Emperor's permission, was erected by the inhabitants of the district in which she lived, to commemorate the benevolence and philanthropic exertions of the mother of Wuong. The custom of honouring ladies distinguished by their virtues and benevolence, by the erection of temples, cenotaphs, &c., is by no means unusual in China, and is in marvellous contrast to the almost slavish treatment which the female sex usually meets with. Nevertheless, in the city and environs of Shanghai alone there are ninety such triumphal arches and memorials to as many exemplary and philanthropic ladies. The majority of these were married, and some had attained a very great age, one having died at 104 years, and another at 115 years of age![141]

In the house of Wuong, who stands in high repute among the Europeans as a merchant and ship-owner, we were received with the most gratifying hospitality. As soon as we entered the house, an attendant immediately presented tea in small cups, which, in conformity with the usages of the country, had to be swallowed in all its native bitterness without admixture of sugar or milk. Immediately after an old nurse made her appearance, and struck up with our excellent conductor, Mr. Syles, who seemed to be everywhere welcomed by the Chinese, and was well acquainted with the family, a long conversation upon the most diverse subjects. At length the master of the house himself made his appearance, a dignified, stately man, arrayed in a light elegant grey silk frock, but in deportment and externals not differing in the very least from his Chinese attendants, and himself conducted us round the house. He seemed to feel pleasure in the opportunity of baring to the view of a stranger the very penetralia of his beautiful abode. We wandered through numerous apartments simply yet elegantly furnished, with various antechambers and corridors, among which were interspersed little plots laid out with dwarf plantations, artistically-designed grottoes, and "rookeries." In one of the rooms was a "punkah," an article of furniture rarely met with in a Chinese household. On reaching the library or study, our host bade us be seated, while he again ordered tea to be served. This small but pretty apartment was covered all round with inscriptions in Chinese (chiefly maxims from Confucius), which, written on rolls of white paper, were suspended on the walls. While sipping our tea, and engrossed in conversation, an attendant appeared with somewhat thick cloths, steeped in hot water, with which to wipe our faces and hands. The evaporation of the moisture lowers the temperature of the skin, and has so refreshing an effect, that one cannot but feel surprised that this custom is not more extensively patronized in hot countries, or put in practice by ourselves during our hot sultry summers.

With respect to ourselves, what appeared most to interest our Chinese host in his silken attire was our apparel. He felt over and over again the black alpaca coat, which was worn by one of the members of our Expedition, and remarked, "these Western races are truly marvellous people; they wear far more clothes than we do, yet they perspire less." And thereupon Wuong mopped his face twice with the towel, which in the mean time the attendant had again dipped in the hot water, and thoroughly wrung out. As we were taking our departure, our courteous host accompanied us to the threshold.

In the portico were a number of wooden tables lacquered with red varnish, on which were inscribed in large golden letters of the Chinese character the titles of honour of the family of Wuong, which on festive occasions were drawn in front of the head of the family as he sat on his sofa.

After this ramble through the Chinese town, we returned to the "Strangers' Quarter," where we came upon a widely different mode of life. Here everything is arranged upon the European model, and the attention is only diverted by those minor accessories, in which the climatic conditions have necessitated some variation. The houses are universally lofty, roomy, and agreeable, usually surrounded by a garden, and many of them present an almost palace-like aspect. More even than to the merchants in Broadway is the designation of "merchant princes" applicable to the foreign merchants of China and the East Indies, for it is among them beyond any other class on the globe, that there prevails a luxury almost princely in its magnificence. In such a place as Shanghai, which can present to the educated foreigner such a meagre equivalent for his numerous intellectual privations, each man endeavours in the readiest possible way to render his material existence as comfortable and agreeable as he possibly can. This leading principle one sees illustrated and carried out in practice in the splendid designs of their residences, and the exquisite refinement and comfort of their internal arrangements, as well as in the scrupulous attention paid to the cellar and the "cuisine."

On the ground-floors are the counting-house and stores, on the first floor the drawing-room, the dining-room, and the sleeping-apartments. All these various chambers are decorated with as much attention to comfort as good taste, and almost every single article bears on it the solid, unmistakeable impress of its English origin. Even into the most minute details all the genuine comfort of an English drawing-room is introduced, increased even, if that be possible, by the adoption of a few customs peculiar to the peoples of Asia, such as mats of fragrant materials placed before the doors and windows, Punkahs, which, kept in motion by Chinese servants, keep up a constant current of fresh air, while through the verandah, or the open glass casement, where the family sit swinging to and fro in an American rocking-chair, a delicious cool breeze blows in the mornings and evenings. A well-appointed numerous household is constantly hovering around, eagerly intent to anticipate the slightest wish of their employers. Probably in no part of the world are there more intelligent or punctual servants than the Chinese. They get through the utmost variety of work with consummate tact, method, and facility. Everything is done rapidly and noiselessly, and one is served with the utmost regularity, without being pestered with too much attention.

The members of the Novara Expedition experienced in Shanghai the most hearty hospitality. Even the presence of the various embassies, and the momentous nature of the operations of which the Gulf of Petcheli was the scene, proved no barrier to a most flattering reception being accorded to this the first maritime Expedition of a German power. Foreigners of the most widely divergent races and standing,—consuls, missionaries, merchants, naturalists, journalists,—each in his own way vied with the rest in ministering to our comfort, and in aiding us in the prosecution of our objects.

One of the most distinguished of the physicians and missionaries of the London Missionary Society, Dr. B. Hobson, who since 1838 has resided at Canton in the honourable capacity of a "medical missionary,"[142] and who, a few months before our arrival, had, in consequence of the outbreak of hostilities, removed to Shanghai, was so kind as to furnish us, out of his own rich treasures of Chinese lore, with much valuable information, and acquainted us with the various objects aimed at by the praiseworthy activity of the London Board of Missions. This body by no means confines its operations to the diffusion of tracts and works relating to Christianity published in the Chinese language, but combines simultaneously with that sphere of action the excellent idea of ministering to the physical necessities of the poor and sick Chinese, and of helping them in their need. While able, eloquent Dr. Muirhead presides over the missionary schools, and the not less zealous Mr. Wylie superintends the printing of the books, our highly-educated friend Dr. Hobson takes charge of the hospital, the cost of which is defrayed partly by the Missionary Society, partly by the European community.

The building itself is rather small and unpretending, and can at most accommodate only thirty patients. But it was erected chiefly for those cases which in England it is customary to classify in the general category of "accidents," injuries, that is, sustained unexpectedly, or in a riot, &c. &c. Every day between twelve and one o'clock a consultation is held, and treatment provided gratuitously. Hither flock hundreds of invalids, to avail themselves of this benevolent arrangement, and while Dr. Hobson is busy giving orders and dispensing drugs in his small apartment, a native convert in the waiting-room is preaching the Living Word to those who come for advice.

We passed an entire hour in the dispensary, not merely for the purpose of witnessing the various descriptions of cases, mostly of a surgical nature, but also to catch many an instructive remark from the lips of Dr. Hobson. Thus he remarked, as the result of a medical practice of more than sixteen years, that the Chinese are uncommonly soon affected by the use of mercury and quinine. A very small dose of either of these drugs very speedily shows a marked effect. Oddly enough, quinine, as a tonic and febrifuge, is unknown in the Chinese pharmacopœia, and is almost exclusively prescribed for the cure of the opium-smoking form of mania.

In China, a physician is treated with great distinction, and is usually designated as szí-yaý (the honourable teacher). Of late years cholera (tschan-kan-tschúi, literally "the contracting of the tendons") and small-pox had committed fearful ravages among the populace, and the appalling havoc committed by the latter-named disease gave occasion for the publication by the English missionaries of a short treatise translated into Chinese, on the importance of vaccination. Among children especially the mortality caused by this fell scourge was very great, and the instances of leucoma and loss of sight resulting from the disease appear to have been very numerous.

Dr. Hobson, who in 1851 had published a volume of Physiology in the Canton dialect, has also completed a handbook of Practical Surgery, with 400 woodcuts, and, like the preceding, had had it printed by native workmen. Even the drawings were drawn on the wood and cut by native artists after English originals. Many of the scientific phrases contained in these works must have required to be entirely reconstructed, or else expressed by a circumlocution. Dr. Hobson intended to follow up these two splendid undertakings with a fresh work upon Pharmacology, as also a treatise upon the diseases of women and children, both, like their predecessors, to be in the Canton dialect, as that most universally used.

The Chinese, however, possess themselves a pretty comprehensive medical literature, whence we may infer that from the earliest times they paid special attention to the science of medicine. According to a Chinese tradition, the Emperor Schi-nung, 3200 years before our era, collected a "Materia Medica," and 570 years later, the Emperor Hwang-té is said to have written a work with the title "Sonwán" (open questions in medicine). The celebrated work, "the Doctrine of the Pulse," by Wang-shu-fo, was written in the reign of Tsche-Hwang-té (the book-burner), about 510 B.C. A second edition of this work was published in the reign of Kang-he, in the year 1693 of our era. About A.D. 229 the Chinese physician Tschang-kae-pin wrote the first Chinese work which, in addition to the theory of medicine, also contained prescriptions. The great "Materia Medica" of China was compiled by Li-tschi-kan, and was published by his son during the reign of Wan-Leih, about A.D. 1600. The most important medical work in Chinese is the E-tsang-kin-ksen, or "the Golden Mirror of Medical Authors," collated by Imperial authority from the best works of earlier native authors, especially from the "Nan-king," and the writings of Dr. Tschang-kae-pin. This was published in 1743 (the seventh year of the reign of Keen-lung), and consists of thirty-two volumes 8vo, with upwards of 400 woodcuts.[143]

The information furnished us by Dr. Hobson with reference to the terrible forms of leprosy in China are of so much interest, general as well as special, that we believe we shall not transcend the scope of this work, if we give in these pages the valuable data upon the subject in all their completeness.

The Chinese consider leprosy as the most appalling of diseases, since, while resisting all means of cure itself, it attacks others, and they accordingly avoid in the greatest terror all those who are smitten with it. Like the people whom Moses brought out, the Chinese regard leprosy as a direct consequence of impiety, an expiation for sin committed. For this reason those afflicted with leprosy are rarely regarded with pity. No hand of sympathy is stretched forth to give aid, no heart feels itself impelled to alleviate their hopeless condition, and thus the most wretched of all are in the eyes of the masses simply objects of disgust and of horror. Leprosy is called Lae in Chinese. In the Imperial dictionary of Kang-he Lae, is described as a very evil kind of disease, which breaks out upon the skin in the form of blotches and pustules. Gutzlaff and others acquainted with Chinese make use however of the words Ma-fung to express leprosy, which is also used by native writers to indicate the disease.

The Chinese physicians consider leprosy as a subtle, penetrating, poisonous effluvium which has infected the blood. They profess to recognize 36 different kinds of leprosy, among which they enumerate every form and variety of Lichen, Scabies, Psoriasis, and Syphilis. Common as the disease is in Southern China, it is unknown in the North; its area of manifestation seems to be confined within the tropics. It is, however, related of many Chinese in good circumstances, that when attacked by leprosy they have removed to Pekin, where after a two years' residence they have lost all trace of the infection, which, however, broke out anew immediately on their return to the South.

Leprosy does not seem by its physical effects to shorten life. There are in China numbers of aged people attacked with this disease, and in the Lazar-house at Canton there is still living an old leper upwards of eighty, who has long found an asylum in that hospital as an incurable. Suicide is not uncommon among those thus sorely smitten, when they usually poison themselves with an over-dose of opium, hang themselves, or drown themselves, for death, they say, makes them once more clean. Although the Chinese believe in the hereditary transmission of leprosy, they nevertheless think that the disease becomes of a milder type in the third generation, and entirely disappears in the fourth. Marriages never take place with the offspring of leprous parents or grand-parents, but on the other hand the lepers and their children intermarry among themselves. A leper however of the fourth generation would only ally himself with a girl of the same degree of exemption. The children of such a union would be considered sound and free from leprosy, and would no longer be excluded in any way from social rights.