Portents or omens exert, as might be expected, a telling influence on Chinese everyday life, and implicit belief is placed in the effect which will follow certain unintentional acts on the part of any individual. Spilling the salt is held to forebode ill-luck amongst ourselves, and similarly the upsetting of the oil jar foretells misfortune to the Chinaman. The appearance and flight of birds seems, again, to have been regarded as an augury by every nation of whose social life details have come down to us, and it is not therefore surprising that the crow should in China be regarded as an omen of evil, just as it is looked upon amongst ourselves. Our North Country children cry when they see one

while a Chinese mutters an invocation against the evil harbinger, its cry being considered so unlucky that when any one about to undertake an affair hears it, he generally postpones action. On the other hand, while our old superstition concerning magpies is adverse to the appearance of a single bird—

the Chinese consider the solitary visitor an omen of good luck. A duck quacking as one passes is, they hold, just the contrary. Regarding dogs the agreement of English belief with that of China is singular. For a strange dog to follow a person is regarded in most parts of our own rural districts as lucky. The Chinese say that if a strange dog comes and remains with one, it is an omen of good to his family and indicates that he will become more wealthy.1 Cats, on the other hand, are inauspicious beasts, and a display of sudden attachment, such as that just noted, foreshadows poverty and distress. “May kittens should be drowned,” according to English folk-lore; but I am not aware that the full-grown animal is deemed particularly objectionable except by sailors, who aver that when a cat becomes unusually frolicsome it portends a storm. Hens also come in for a share of the feeling expressed in the distich

“In China the crowing of a hen is considered ominous of something unusual about to happen in the family to which it belongs. In order to ascertain whether this event is propitious or unpropitious, the relative position of the fowl, while [34]crowing, is to be observed. If the hen crows while her head is toward the outside, or the front of the premises, it is an unpropitious prognostication, foreshadowing poverty or ill luck of some kind; whereas, if her head is pointing toward the rear of the premises while crowing, it is an omen of good, indicating a more prosperous state of the family. Few families will keep a crowing hen, even should she betoken future good, as extraordinary omens like this are deemed undesirable. The unfortunate fowl is either sold or killed as soon as possible after she has commenced to crow. It is said that if a cock should crow about ten or eleven o’clock in the evening, he is not allowed to remain on the premises long, being killed or sold, as such crowing denotes future evil to the family of the owner.”2 A precisely similar belief obtained amongst our own ancestors. “Moresin ranked the unseasonable crowing of a cock amongst omens,” says Brand; and in Morier’s Journey through Persia, p. 62, we read: “Amongst the superstitions in Persia, that which depends on the crowing of a cock is not the least remarkable. If the cock crows at a proper hour, they esteem it a good omen; if at an improper season, they kill him. I am told that the favourable hours are at nine, both in the morning and in the evening, at noon, and at midnight.” The flight of birds, more especially swallows, is also an omen in Chinese eyes. Classical scholars do not need to be reminded how often this augury was consulted amongst the Greeks and Romans. A Chinaman never wilfully kills swallows. The French of the Mediterranean term them ames damnées and have also a superstitious regard for them—a queer coincidence, to say the least of it. Bats again in China afford omens of good fortune. The Chinese name of the animal is fuk shil (in Cantonese) or “Rat of Happiness,” and its erratic dashes into a room or summer-house are held to augur coming luck to the occupants. With us, similar conduct on the part of a robin red-breast is an omen of calamity.

But these agreements of superstition are not confined to crows, dogs, bats, cooks, and hens. The owl occupies the same position in Chinese esteem as it did in ancient Roman eyes, and as it still does in Great Britain. Pliny called it “inauspicata et funebris avis,” while similar epithets are applied to the bird by Ovid, Lucian, and Claudian. Chaucer described it as

and Spencer speaks of it as the bird “that whoso heares doth die.” Butler, in his Hudibras, p. 2. Canto III. l. 707, refers to the lustration which Rome underwent because an owl had strayed into the capital. Bourne describes it as “a most abominable and unlucky bird,” whose hoarse and dismal voice “is an omen of the approach of some terrible thing: that some dire calamity and some great misfortune is near at hand.” Brand devotes several pages to quotations, ancient and modern, in the same sense.3 Now let us see what the Chinese have to say of the bird of Minerva. “The voice of the owl is universally heard with dread, being regarded as the harbinger of death in the neighbourhood.” I shall perhaps [35]be pardoned if, for the sake of making this notice exhaustive, I quote the following from Mr. Doolittle’s interesting chapter on this and kindred subjects.

Some say that its voice resembles the voice of a spirit or demon calling out to its fellow. Perhaps it is on account of this notion that they so often assert having heard the voice of a spirit, when they may have heard only the indistinct hooting of a distant owl. Sometimes, the Chinese say, its voice sounds much like an expression for “digging” the grave. Hence, probably, the origin of a common saying, that when one is about to die, in the neighborhood will be heard the voice of the owl, calling out, “dig, dig.” It is frequently spoken of as the bird which calls for the soul, or which catches or takes away the soul. Some assert that if its cry is dull and indistinct, as though proceeding from a distant place, it betokens the death of a near neighbor; whereas, if its notes are clear and distinct, as if proceeding from a short distance, it is a sure harbinger of the death of a person in a remote neighborhood—the more distinct the voice, the more distant the individual whose decease is indicated; and the more indistinct the voice, the nearer the person whose death is certain! It is a common saying that this bird is a transformation of one of the servants of the ten kings of the infernal regions, i.e., is a devil under the guise of a bird. It is also frequently referred to as a “constable from the dark land.”

To pass from birds to eggs, it may be noted that a Lancashire superstition that to set a hen on an even number of eggs will result in their being addled, or in the chickens not thriving, exists also in South China.

I have already referred to shoes in connection with birth and marriage, but can find no precise analogy to the “shoe omens” in vogue in Europe—such as the ill luck which it is feared will befall the person who puts a left shoe on a right foot and vice versa. Mirrors, however, share in China the superstitious respect paid to their preservation at home. To break a looking-glass is in most parts of Europe deemed a very unlucky accident. “When a looking glass is broken it is an omen that the party to whom it belongs will lose his best friend. Grose tells us that breaking a looking-glass betokens a mortality in the family, commonly the master;”4 and Buonaparte, having once broken the glass over Josephine’s portrait, could not rest till a special courier had informed him of her safety. This belief exists in full force in China. To break a mirror augurs a separation from one’s wife by death, or otherwise, and is only second in ominous portent to breaking an oil jar. And this superstition of a connection existing between the mirror and its owner’s life is evidenced also by its use in cases of sickness to form the head of a sort of figure made of one of the sick man’s coats which, suspended to a bamboo with the end leaves still on it, is carried about in the vicinity of the house in the hope of attracting the departing soul back to its body. Mirrors are also used as charms, under which head their use will be described.

Who has not noticed or heard of the bizarre arrangements of Chinese gardens and rockeries? The motive for this laying out the pleasure grounds attached to large houses is not simply ornamental. No doubt the Chinaman is one of the most ingenious of landscape gardeners, but the crooked walks and abrupt turns not only economize space but are “lucky,” inasmuch as they discourage the advent of evil spirits, who like the “broad way” in China much as they are reputed to do in Europe. Now in England, says a recent writer, “Good luck [36]seems to be attached to everything deformed or crooked. Thus, a crooked sixpence, all England through, is lucky; also placing crooked pins in walls is a very common custom. I never could learn the reason why, although I have known it extended to highways and lanes, such as being cautioned never to build a house in a straight lane, but always to choose (because lucky) a crooked or lane with many curves and turnings.” It looks very much as if the two superstitions were identical, but fearful of being too dogmatic I leave readers to draw their own inference.

A recent English writer remarks that “throughout our history, and even in our own day among the vulgar, every eclipse or comet is regarded as the harbinger of some storm, or inundation, or some contagious disease.” The sentence may stand as it is to describe the Chinese sentiment, with the slight omission of the words “amongst the vulgar;” for prince and peasant alike believe that the astrologers do not lie. But more astonishing still is it to find that an able writer, Dr. Forster, in his Illustrations of the Atmospherical Origin of Epidemic Disorders, gives tables occupying 40 closely-printed 8vo. pages, to shew that the visits of these scourges have really been concurrent with the appearance and approach of comets. He in fact gravely supports the theory held by the Chinese (who by the way say, the longer the comet’s tail, the greater the disturbance), so far as it relates to disease. The natives consider a comet to portend war also, and as rebel fighting is generally going on somewhere in the Middle Kingdom, have no great difficulty in proving their case. Stars have, since the remotest antiquity, been held by this people to serve as portents or warnings, generally on the side of order and good government. Some eight years ago the Southern rebels had advanced from Tsao-chow to capture Chi-ning-chow, and as the city was badly defended they would have had an easy task, but for one circumstance that intervened. They fancied they saw on the Eastern road “an enormous red star of an inexplicable nature, within which was plainly visible Kwan-ti in armour, and with a helmet surmounting his fiery face and mighty beard. He darted about at the head of his legions just as he is represented as doing in paintings, and the tumult of his innumerable host was distinctly heard.” The rebels were affrighted and fled, and it was officially recorded that “the spirit of Kwan-ti had preserved the city of Chi-ning-chow.” As regards eclipses, the popular belief of the Chinese in the fact that the sun or moon is then being devoured by a dragon, and the means adopted of beating gongs and firing crackers to frighten the dragon away, have been held up to Western ridicule ever since books about China have been written. But precisely the same beliefs and practices prevailed amongst the Romans, Macedonians, Medes, Turks, Italians, Irish and Welsh! I need not here quote authorities at length, as they will all be found in Brand (Vol. III. p. 152–3). But I may note that the Spartan belief that the appearance of shooting stars signified that the king had offended the gods is not very far removed from the Chinese idea that an eclipse is an omen of ill luck to the reigning emperor—a belief curiously verified but a few months back when the attack of small-pox from which the young emperor Tung Chih died was concurrent with the occurrence of a solar eclipse. [37]

Superstitions regarding bells may be classed under the heads both of auguries and charms. The two largest bells in the empire—those at Canton and Peking—are held to possess peculiarly portentous virtues. A native account of the City of Canton states that the kin chung or “tabooed bell,” as it is called, was cast in the beginning of the reign of Hung-wu (therefore shortly after A.D. 1468, or five centuries ago), but in consequence of a prophecy foretelling calamity to Canton whenever it should give forth sound, was deprived of a clapper and the means of access to it removed. At length one day a rash official directed a man to strike it. No sooner had its reverberating boom been heard, than upwards of a thousand male and female infants died within the city. Some evil spirit had evidently been irritated at the bell being rung, and to ward off his influence infants have, ever since, worn bells upon the clothes. But the prophecy thus vindicated was still supposed to hold good, and advantage was taken of the circumstance by our bombarding force in 1857. It was suggested to the commander of one of H. M’s. ships to aim a shot at the bell, and the result was that, as calamity was indeed befalling the haughty city, the unwonted boom was once again heard. A portion of the lower rim was fractured, and the superstition thus recalled to the popular mind undoubtedly contributed to a general belief in foreign prowess.5 The belief regarding the Peking bell is less deep-seated, being only to the effect that, if struck by an unauthorized hand, the rain-god will immediately visit the offence by sending down unneeded rain. Some years since, on the writer with a party of friends, visiting the great bell-temple outside the City, the Priests refused to strike the enormous specimen therein hung (it is, by the way, the largest suspended bell in the world), lest the rain-god should be offended. A small present from one of the party however induced them to let the visitors draw back the heavy wooden ram which did duty as a clapper. Strangely enough, as the first blow was struck, a heavy rainstorm came on, and the shaven-pated attendants roared out in high glee, “We told you so!” For once superstition carried the day. It is unnecessary to remind at least London readers that grave disaster to the Royal family is believed to follow the unexpected tolling of the great bell of St. Paul’s. Bells, especially if blessed by a priest, were formerly thought efficacious to scare away evil spirits. Church bells have ever been regarded in a similar light; and the passing-bell tolled for a dying man was of old supposed to frighten off the demons who stood at the foot of the bed ready to seize, or at least molest, the departing soul. The latter thus got a fair start, or what sportsmen call “law.” “Hence,” says the authority I am quoting, “the high charge made for tolling the great bell of the Church,” as being more efficacious than smaller ones heard to a less distance.

A writer in Notes and Queries states that a Scottish plan for securing good luck, for the space of twelve months at least, is to draw a bucket-full of water from the village well, at midnight, on New Year’s eve, and, after throwing a handful of grass into it, to carry it carefully home. If the drawer [38]be a cow-keeper, he uses part of the water to wash his dairy utensils, and gives the remainder to his cows, in the rather dishonest hope that he will thereby obtain the cream of the cows of such of his neighbors as use the well, and have not been so wise as himself. Now this custom finds an exact counterpart in China. Natives living in the neighbourhood of Canton believe that water drawn on the night, or rather after midnight, of the seventh day of the seventh moon, possesses special efficacy in the cure of cutaneous diseases or fevers, if used in the cooking of gruel for a patient. It is, moreover, believed that such water will not get putrid even if kept for years, its efficacy indeed increasing with age. The date above given is reported to be that of the descent of the female genii of the Pleiades (possibly because the constellation is formed of seven stars).

Omens of personal sensation are as commonly accepted in China as in England. With us burning or itching sensations on the body forebode ill luck or calamities; thus, if you have a shivering fit, some one is walking over your destined grave; if the right ear burns, you will hear good news, but if the left, you are being defamed by an enemy. The Chinese believe that if one of the eyelids move involuntarily, it forebodes good or evil luck according to the hours at which the sensation is experienced, and the eyelid (right or left) affected. As a rule it is an ill omen. Sneezing indicates that some one is talking ill of the person so relieving himself. Any twitching of the flesh or a jumping sensation in the region of the heart always forebodes serious ill fortune (the latter symptom, by the way, often needs no prophetic interpretation); and if a man’s second finger shakes, it is a sign that he will shortly be invited to a grand feast. Clothes again, especially trowsers, have ominous properties. Our own goodwives tell us that it is very unlucky to sew a button on a pair of breeches while wearing them. The Chinese give a pair of the same indispensable articles of dress to a young girl commencing to learn sewing, her successful efforts to stitch them together foreboding wealth. Our saying that if two men wash in the same bowl they will quarrel before sunset has a Chinese parallel in the belief that sitting down in a chair still warm augurs that you will shortly fall out with the last sitter.

It has always been deemed unlucky to meet a funeral in most parts of England, and the Chinese entertain an exactly similar idea, especially if the person meeting it is going to a wedding. In fact, many natives will turn back from any business visit they are about to pay if they come across either a funeral or a coffin. There is a quaint saying at home that “Trouble will never come near folks whose eyebrows meet;” and it is also alleged that ladies with overmuch down and gentlemen with overmuch hair upon their arms and hands, carry about them Nature’s own guarantee that they are born to be rich some day—as rich as those happy individuals whose front teeth are set wide apart. The Chinese say that “people whose eyebrows meet can never expect to attain to the dignity of a Minister of State;” that “ladies with too much down or hair are born to be poor all their lives;” but that “bearded men will never become beggars.” In fact, it is scarcely possible to take up the most ordinary magazine article on [39]European folk-lore without noting in almost every paragraph strange coincidences either in actual belief or in the subject of a superstition. Even the appearance of a white speck upon the finger nail or an itching sensation of the palm of the hand (both ominous of coming gifts in England) bear significance in the eyes of this mysteriously isolated people. The Chinese note that both the foregoing are omens of coming evil.

The first words heard after making a resolution are supposed in China to be ominous. Thus, if a man who has decided to do a certain thing—say, for instance, recover a debt—hears the first person he meets say mei-yu or m’hai (according to the dialect he speaks) he will defer his visit. No Chinaman will open a shop, marry a wife, or engage in any important undertaking without casting lots to see if the fates are propitious.6 The method of carrying this out is as follows: Each temple in China has belonging to it about a hundred stanzas of poetry relating to a variety of subjects; each stanza is numbered and printed on a separate piece of paper; in addition to this, there are a quantity of lots made of bamboo slips about eight inches long, corresponding to the number of stanzas, and referring to them by number. The individual who wishes to make application to the god presents himself before his image on his knees, and after performing the ko-tow by touching the ground with his head nine times, states his name and residence, the object of his inquiries, and whether on his own or another’s account. He then takes a bamboo tube containing the lots, and shakes it gently before the idol until a slip falls to the ground. He then rises from his knees and picks up this slip, and places it so that the god can see the number of the lot written on it; he then takes two pieces of wood, each having a round and a flat side. After passing these through the incense, he tosses them into the air before the idol; if they fall so that both round sides are uppermost, the answer is negative and everything is unpropitious; if they fall with one round and one flat side up, the answer is in the affirmative, and the man may go on his way rejoicing.7

A belief in what we term lucky numbers pervades the whole arcana of Chinese life and literature. Mr. Mayers, in the introduction to his admirable Chinese Reader’s Manual, says: “In obedience it would seem to an impulse the influence of which is distinctly marked in the literary traditions of the Chaldeans, the Hebrews, and the Hindoos, a doctrine of the hidden properties and harmonies of numbers imbues the earliest recorded expression of Chinese belief. So also, it may be remarked, in the teachings of Pythagoras an abstract theory of number was expounded as underlying the whole system of existence, whence the philosophy [40]of the western would become tinged with conceptions strongly resembling those which still prevail on the same subject in the Chinese mind.” Mr. Mayers has here indicated the common source of many of those vulgar beliefs now known as mere folk-lore; and humble as that is in comparison with the more pretentious philosophy which he has so skilfully elucidated, it is not wholly without interest. It would seem that the popular saying “There is luck in odd numbers” meets with as much belief in China as in England. I have already noted the fact that the number 3 is, with an odd exception relating to marriage ceremonies, deemed auspicious. Thus they speak of the 3 decades of heat, the 3 powers united in nature (tʻien, yang and yin), the 3 systems of doctrine, the 3 forms of obedience, the 3 mental qualifications, the 3 powers of nature (heaven, earth and man), and so on, to say nothing of the phrases in which the same number is pressed into service to express real or assumed historical, geographical, and other facts, such as the “3 kingdoms,” the “3 armies,” the “3 rivers,” the “3 heroes,” &c.8 Mr. Mayers’s exhaustive “Numerical Categories,” give the following number of current phrases under the first ten numerals.

Many of these have of course a reference to popular superstitions. Five and Seven appear to be the favourite numbers in this respect. All the forces and phenomena of nature are based upon the number five:—we have therefore, Five active organs: the stomach, the lungs, the liver, the heart, and the kidneys. Five colours: Yellow, White, Green, Red, Black. Five varieties of taste: Sweet, Acrid, Sour, Bitter, Salt. Five elements: Earth, Metal, Wood, Fire, Water. Five planets: Saturn, Venus, Jupiter, Mars, Mercury. Five regions of heaven: Centre, West, East, South, North. And so on throughout nature. And similarly as sounds belong to the phenomena of nature, there must be five of them. It does not appear that any particular virtue has ever been held to reside in the number five amongst ourselves. The number seven, however, is as portentous in China as in the Western world. Besides the Sabbathaical use of the number, it enters so largely into the popular sayings of the people that one is tempted to suppose anything but an accidental or independent origin for its adoption. Thus the Chinese speak of the seven passions, the seven spirits; they wish a bride seven children; there are seven lawful reasons for divorce. The “Seven Joys” is a common tea-shop sign. There are the seven Famous Persons of the Bamboo Grove. Seven hands and eight feet is a common expression for [41]“too many cooks spoil the broth,” and I may note that a jury is commonly termed in Hongkong (when the pidgin English word Ju-li is not used) the “seven strangers.” Except to indicate a parallel, I need hardly here specify the part which the same number plays in our own affairs. The Hebrew use of the number is familiar to all. The seven wise men, the seven hills, the seven senses, the seven churches, the seven angels, the seven planets, and some thirty other similar expressions are in frequent use amongst us. We transport rogues for seven and fourteen years and bind apprentices for seven, and we find that, of old, Selenus the mathematician, and Hippocrates, both held the Chinese idea of the seventh day being critical in diseases.

Always excepting the tabooed 13, odd numbers have ever been popular in England, in various circumstances. Thus we hold it lucky for an odd number of people to sit down to dinner. The Chinese incline to an even number, 8 being in their estimation the most fortunate. But as already noted they share with us the superstitions as to setting a hen on an odd number of eggs. On the other hand, the hair should not be combed on odd days, more especially the 1st and 15th of a month. (The coiffure of Chinese women being dressed with a glutinous substance, it is only combed out at intervals.)

Dreams have ever played an important part in the psychological history of the human race, and the belief in their portentous nature is possibly the only superstition common to all mankind. As Dr. Kitto (Cyclopædia of Biblical Literature, Art. Dreams) well observes:—“It is quite clear from the inspired history that dreams were looked upon by the earliest nations of antiquity as premonitions from their idol gods of future events; … and in order to guard against imposition Moses pronounced a penalty against dreams which were invented and wickedly made use of.” It is almost unnecessary to make reference to the belief reposed in these alleged warnings from another world by Western nations. The story of Mahomed’s dream is known to all; and I will merely add that both the Negro and Fijian races believe them to be caused by visits of the souls of deceased friends, while such widely divergent races as the Finns and the Australian Aborigines entertain a contrary belief that the soul of the dreamer leaves his body as it enjoys or suffers imaginary pleasures or pains.9 The Chinese refer all dreams to the inspiration of a god or goddess, but frequently use the divining bamboos to ascertain how they are to be interpreted. Many of the principal temples in the empire owe their construction to imaginary instructions received during sleep. A recent visitor to the city of Tai An, situated at the foot of the Tai San mountains in Shantung—one of the five sacred mountains of China—thus gives the local legend: “The common account is, that Chin Tsung, the third Emperor of Tʻang Dynasty, was afflicted with a grevious boil, which the Imperial physicians could not cure. There was a Taouist Priest at Tai San called Yen He, who declared that the Goddess of the mountain had appeared to him in a dream and directed him to go to the capital and cure this boil for the [42]Emperor, at the same time directing him how to proceed. He went accordingly, and gave out that he had come to cure the Emperor’s boil. The Emperor hearing of it, called him in. As soon as he entered the Imperial presence, the boil called out, ‘Yen He has come and my destiny is finished;’ the Priest prescribed treatment, and the boil was cured. The Emperor wished to reward him with an office, but he refused, saying ‘Your Majesty has not been cured by my power, but by the efficient power of the God of Tai San; you should show your gratitude by repairing the temple at Tai San.’ The Emperor assented, made a large appropriation, and appointed an officer to have it rebuilt in magnificent style.” I might multiply examples of this sort ad libitum. The memorials in the Peking Gazette abound with references to acts done, or crimes discovered in consequence of dreams. Mr. Doolittle notes how dreaming has been pressed into the service of Buddhism at Foochow by way of enforcing the prohibition against eating flesh. “A certain butcher one day bought three buffaloes one of which he killed. One night he began suddenly to bellow like cattle, and for a whole day remained insensible. His family in alarm called a doctor, who prescribed medicine to revive him. His family, on his recovering his senses, inquired what was the occasion of his acting thus? He answered that he saw in his dream the two buffaloes not yet killed suddenly begin to speak like men; one of them said: ‘I am your father;’ and the other said: ‘I am your grand-father.’ In a short time they became in appearance like men, and on looking carefully at them, said he, ‘I saw that they were really my father and my grandfather.’ The butcher was so painfully affected by these circumstances that he sent the two cattle away to the country, and changed his calling.”

As an illustration of the every-day belief in dreams which comes under the observation of the least curious foreign resident in Chinese, I subjoin two stories which have within the last few months appeared in a Shanghai and Hongkong journal respectively. The first relates to the old, old subject—the discovery of treasure. “The other night a gentleman named Chang (Anglice Smith) went to bed and had a very remarkable dream. He thought that he was in a particular spot at the back of a certain temple in Shanghai city, and that there he came upon a hidden treasure of gold. On awaking he was so much impressed with the vivid nature of the dream that he immediately sprang out of bed, shouldered a pickaxe and wended his way to the enchanted spot. Upon reaching his destination he fell to work, and sure enough had not far to dig before he came upon a box containing five hundred taels’ weight of gold, and—so runs the story—all marked with the magic name of Chang! Of course proprietorship was indisputable, and lucky Mr. Chang trotted home a richer and a happier man.”

The other story appeared a very short time since in the China Mail, and the facts came within the writer’s personal knowledge. Some time ago, a junk sailed from Hoifoong, containing a number of coolies for the barracoons of Macao. Having arrived there, the live cargo was quickly disposed of, and the Captain received as freight something over $1,000. This incited the helmsman and some of the crew to league themselves with two piratical junks to attack the boat [43]and to rob the Captain of the money. Two or three days after, the junk left Macao on her way back to Hoifoong. On the voyage, near Chang Chow, the two pirates hove in sight, and the helmsman steered closed up to them, when the pirates boarded the junk, killed the Captain and threw him overboard. Here comes the mysterious part of the story. The master of the Luk Kee barracoon one night dreamed a dream, in which he saw the ghost of the murdered man before him, saying he had been murdered, that he was robbed of his money, and that he wished the barracoon master to complain and try to obtain redress for him, which he thought would not be difficult, as the pirates were sailing off Chang Chow. On the strength of this dream, the barracoon master complained to the Portuguese authorities, who sent out a gunboat, and the pirates were found at the spot indicated by the ghost. The crew of the attacked junk (who had come to Hongkong since the robbery) immediately went to Macao; one of them was the brother of the deceased and had been cut in several places. Whether there was any truth in the statement of the appearance of the ghost or not, the facts of the robbery and capture were correct. Here there was nothing mysterious in the fact of a friend of the junk captain dreaming that a very common contingency in Canton waters had actually occurred. Nor was it very strange that he should hit upon the most likely place to find the pirates. The Chinese however, especially in psychological matters, are not very keen in connecting cause with effect, and the lucky dreamer enjoys to this day the reputation of having been specially favoured by the Goddess of Sailors.

It does not appear that Chinese soothsayers, like their Western prototypes, divide dreams into distinct categories, or, to put it more accurately, that the fortune-telling books in circulation amongst the people agree in any standard of division. There is, however, a sort of natural order followed, as all such warnings may be divided into three classes,—those which portend good fortune, those which portend evil, and those to which no precise signification can be affixed. A very interesting paper on the subject of dreams recently appeared in the Japan Mail;10 and from this it would appear that in many respects Chinese [44]and Japanese beliefs are alike, though the latter people, true to their national character, have evinced a much greater talent for classification than their older rivals. Amongst good portents, in Chinese belief, are dreams of mounting upwards to the skies, meeting genii, or persons celebrated for their positions or acquirements, and of being present at convivial parties. To dream that one sees bats, turtles or tortoises, or that one is wounded by robbers (provided blood be not drawn) is also of good augury. These are also portents of good fortune to the Japanese; but while the latter consider that to dream of wearing new clothes or of having ulcers on the face is a sign of prosperity, these are both taken to augur impending ill fortune in China.11 Of evil auguries common to the two countries are dreams of eating fruit, of breaking mirrors, or of seeing ants crawling over the house matting; to dream of the “sun or moon shedding tears of blood” is a sign of the approaching death of a parent; while to dream of having one’s teeth pulled out implies impending unfriendliness on the part of relatives, and to dream of eating pears is an emblem of family broils. In both countries bad dreams should not be talked about at once—in China, until the morning meal has been taken, and in Japan until the mouth has been rinsed with [45]water and ejected facing the East, an incantation being at the same time ejaculated. To dream of a bear is in China a sign that the dreamer will have a son; of a snake that he or she will have a daughter; while the appearance in a dream of a white mouse indicates the presence of treasure at the place where the animal is seen. Yet we must not be too hard on our Eastern friends. A half superstitious belief in the prophetic nature of dreams lingers throughout Europe, and a few decades will doubtless find China and Japan as generally incredulous of its existing beliefs in such matters as we assume to be ourselves.