[transcriber's note: page numbers are enclosed in curly braces, e.g. { }. they are located where page breaks occurred in the original book. paragraphs are not broken. when a paragraph flows around illustrations the "next" page immediately preceding or following the illustrations jumps to account for the pages occupied by the illustrations. the location of the paragraph following the illustration group is indicated as { continued}. the material following { }, up to the next {}, is on page , even if the next page number is not . italic are enclosed in underscores: _this is italicized_. end transcriber's note] where half the world is waking up [illustration: count shige-nobu okuma of japan] (from a photograph and autograph given the author) count okuma, one of the genro or elder statesmen of japan and ex-premier of the empire, is an opponent of his country's high protective tariff and an earnest advocate of international arbitration. where half the world is waking up the old and the new in japan, china, the philippines, and india, reported with especial reference to american conditions by clarence poe author of "a southerner in europe," "cotton: its cultivation and manufacture," editor "the progressive farmer," sec'y north carolina historical association, etc., etc. garden city new york doubleday, page & company all rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the scandinavian copyright, , by clarence poe the country life press garden city, n. y. to the right honorable james bryce in whom achievement, character and personal charm meet in rare symmetry; who has won the wisdom of age without losing the dew op youth; and whose generous friendship had made me his debtor before it aided me anew in planning and executing my oriental tour {vii} preface "the human race, to which so many of my readers belong," as mr. gilbert chesterton begins one of his books by saying, has half its members in asia. that americans should know something about so considerable a portion of our human race is manifestly worth while. and really to know them at all we must know them as they are to-day. vast changes are in progress, and even as i write this, the revolution in china, foreshadowed in the chapters written by me from that country, is remaking the political life of earth's oldest empire. from japan to india there is industrial, educational, political ferment. the old order changes, yielding place to the new. "where half the world is waking up" is not inappropriate therefore as the title of the book now offered to the public. the reader will kindly observe here that i have written of where half the world is waking up and not merely of the waking-up itself. my purpose has been to set forth the old and the new in due proportion; to present the play of new forces against and upon the ancient, the amazingly ancient, forces that have dominated whole races for centuries. in most places, in fact, the ancient force is still clearly the dominant one. observe, too, therefore, that i have written not of where half the world has waked up, but only of where it is waking up. the significant thing is that the waking is really taking place at all, and of this there can be no doubt. it was, in short, with the hope of securing for myself and presenting to others a photograph of the orient as it is to-day that i made my long trip through japan, korea, manchuria, {viii} china, the philippines, and india during the past year. it was not a pleasure trip nor yet a hurried "seaport trip." i travelled either entirely across or well into the interior of each country visited, and all my time was given to study and research to fit me for the preparation of these articles. that despite of the care exercised the book contains some errors, is doubtless true. the sources of information in the orient are not always easy to find, nor always in accord after one finds them. consider, for example, the population of manchuria: it seems a simple enough matter, yet it required the help of consuls of two or three nations to enable me to sift out the truth from the conflicting representations of several writers and so-called authorities. for my part i can only claim a laborious and painstaking effort to get the facts. letters of introduction to eminent englishmen kindly furnished me by ambassador bryce opened the doors of british officialdom for me, and the friendship of mr. roosevelt and letters from mr. bryan and our department of state proved helpful in other ways. i thus had the good fortune not only to get the ready fraternal assistance of my brother newspaper men (of all races) everywhere, and the help of english, german, and american consuls, but i was aided by some of the most eminent authorities in each country visited--in china, by h. e. tang shao-yi, wu ting fang, sir robert bredon, dr. c. d. tenney, dr. timothy richard; in japan, by ex-premier okuma, viscount kaneko, baron shibusawa, dr. juichi soyeda; in hong kong, by governor-general sir frederick lugard; in manila by governor-general forbes, vice-governor gilbert; in india, the members of the viceroy's cabinet, hon. krishnaswami iyer, dr. j. p. jones, etc, etc. to all of these and to scores of others, my grateful acknowledgments are tendered. they helped me get information, but of course are in no case to be held responsible for any opinions that i have expressed. to mr. g. d. adams, of akron, ohio, and dr. arthur {ix} mez, of mannheim, germany, two generous fellow-travellers, my thanks are due for the use of many of their photographs, and i am also indebted to _the world's work_ and _the review of reviews_ for permission to republish articles that have already appeared in these magazines. the larger number of chapters included in this volume, however, were originally prepared with a view to their use in my own paper, the progressive farmer. they are, therefore, often more elementary in character, let me say in the outset, than if they had been written exclusively for bookbuyers, but it is my hope that their journalistic flavor, even if it has this disadvantage, will also be found to have certain compensating qualities. perhaps just one other thing ought to be said: that practically every article about any country was written while i was still in the country described. in this way i hoped not only to write with greater freshness and vividness, but i was enabled to have my articles revised and criticised by friends well informed concerning the subjects discussed. the reader will please bear in mind, therefore, that a letter about tokyo is also a letter from tokyo, a letter about korea is a letter from korea, etc., and shift his viewpoint accordingly. i have also thought it best to be frank with the reader and let the chapters on china remain exactly as they were written--presenting a pen picture of the dragon empire as it appeared on the eve of the outbreak, while the revolution was indeed definitely in prospect but not yet a reality. ----- "give us as many anecdotes as you can," was old samuel johnson's advice to boswell, when that worthy proposed to write of corsica; and this wise suggestion i have sought to keep in mind in all my travel. moreover, another saying of the great lexicographer's comes quaintly into my memory as i conclude this foreword: "there are two things which i am confident i could do very well," he once remarked to sir joshua reynolds; "one is an introduction to any literary work stating {x} what it is to contain, and how it should be executed in the most perfect manner: the other is a conclusion, showing from various causes why the execution has not been equal to what the author promised to himself and to the publick!" c. p. raleigh, n. c. december , . {xi} contents chapter page i. japan: the land of upside down a land of contradictions music as an example marriage and the home life patriarchal ideas still dominant. ii. snapshots of japanese life and philosophy what a japanese city is like strange clothing of the japanese who ever saw so many babies? alphonse and gaston outdone the grace of the little women how the old japan and the old south were alike a "moral distinction" between producers and non-producers. iii. japanese farming and farmer folk japanese farm children getting more schooling than american farm children no illiteracy in the new japan where five acres is a large farm how iowa might feed the whole united states farming without horses or oxen what the japanese farmers raise the crime of soil-waste all work done by hand cooperative credit societies a success farm houses grouped in villages "a seller of the ancestral land" the japanese love of the beautiful a suggestion for america. iv. "welfare work" in japanese factories manufacturing bound to increase tariff legislation unfair to agriculture a visit to a progressive japanese factory how the factory operatives are looked after stricter factory legislation coming. v. does japanese competition menace the white man's trade a study of japanese industrial conditions japanese labor cheap but inefficient actual cost of output little cheaper than in america laborers in a state {xii} of deplorable inexperience illustrations of japanese inefficiency some current misconceptions corrected labor wage has increased per cent, in eight years the burden of taxation high tariff will decrease japan's export trade subsidy policy destroying individual initiative japanese competition not a serious menace to the white man. vi. buddhism, shintoism, and christianity in japan the artistic touch of the japanese religion without morals buddhism in fact vs. buddhism idealized by arnold official notices prohibiting christianity christianity "puts too high an estimate on woman" the worth of the individual not recognized the elemental significance of japan's awakening a new type of civilization. vii. korea: "the land of the morning calm" i have become a contemporary of david the fascination of a primitive city some odd korean customs-a true romance and an odd one many faces marked by smallpox a typical monarchy of ancient asia-the honorable mr. yang-ban six men to carry fifty dollars' worth of money japanese annexation splendid work of foreign missionaries. viii. manchuria: fair and fertile some first-hand stories of the russo-japanese war a bit of history with a lesson the site of the world's next great war manchuria: fair and fertile fat harvests of food, feed, and fuel a land where everybody "knows beans" golden opportunities for stock-raising better plows and level culture graves as thick as corn shocks ix. where japan is absorbing an empire manchuria the one great oriental empire not yet developed its strategic importance why the "open door" concerns us all japan's shrewd policies {xiii} contempt of chinese authority japan at home vs. japan in manchuria how the open door policy was violated will manchuria go the way of korea? a bit of chinese wit and wisdom truth is in the interest of peace. x. light from china on problems at home a chinese martyr-hero the most tremendous moral achievement of recent times a lesson for america putting officials on salaries money changers and title changers making education practical the parcels post and tariff reform. xi. the new china: awake and at work the coming national parliament the successful war against opium china's right-about-face in education building up an army attacking the graft system railroads, posts, and telegraphs america's relations with china. xii. a trip into rural china the camels from mongolia strange traffic and travel in nankou pass the great wall of china surprisingly progressive farming methods. xiii. from peking to the yangtze-kiang street life in peking history that is history martyrdoms that have enriched the world average wages to cents a day homes without firesides all china a vast cemetery keeping on good terms with dragons the blessings of our alphabet confucius as a moral teacher my friendship with a descendant of confucius. xiv. sidelights on chinese character and industry healthy public sentiment slavery and foot-binding still practised "big feet no b'long pretty" the popularity of a no. wife the virtue that is next to godliness largely disregarded some discredited americans discovered abroad a -mile trip on the yangtze {xiv} river an interview with wu ting fang farming on the yangtze shanghai factory laborers paid cents a day. xv. farewell to china a city of , , people without a vehicle a dead chinaman more important and respected than a live one queer features of chinese funerals cruelty of chinese punishments a sample of chinese humor: the story of the magic jar amusing trials of a land buyer "pidgin english" everything is saved the influence that is remaking china. xvi. what i saw in the philippines in manila a trip through five provinces what the philippine country looks like every filipino has cigarette and a clean suit a mania for cock-fighting snapshots of philippine life labor the one thing lacking. xvii. what the united states is doing in the philippines thirty thousand white people and , , filipinos rich resources and varied products millions in lumber how the islands are governed restricting the suffrage education: achievements of the american government postal savings banks and the torrens system public health work building roads and then keeping them up "a george junior republic." xviii. asia's greatest lesson foe america . . where cents a day is a laborer's wage the savage struggle for existence in the east tasks heart-sickening in their heaviness where women are burden-bearers $ a year for a farm hand an overcrowded population not the chief cause of asia's poverty a defective organization of industry responsible foolish opposition to labor-saving tools our debt to machinery knowledge itself a productive agency ineffectiveness of oriental labor tools and knowledge the secret of wealth importance of our racial heritage the final lesson. {xv} xix. the straits settlements and burma the amazing industry of the chinese easy money in cocoanuts how germany is capturing oriental trade rangoon the city of gorgeous colors burma's buddhist temples rangoon's beasts of burden where the elephants do the work some first-hand jungle stories my lord the elephant good-by to burma. xx. hinduism--and the himalayas theoretical vs. practical hinduism the kalighat temple, calcutta human sacrifices two indian places of worship: a contrast a visit to benares burning the bodies of the dead "religion" as it is in benares the himalayas: a new and happier subject. xxi. "the poor benighted hindus" india's enormous population "the wealth of the indies" a romance a typical indian village no chairs, mattresses, knives, or forks used where it is at midnight "gunga din" in evidence the lady of banbury cross outdone. xxii. hindu farming and farm life primitive tools used by farmers what crops are grown where drought means death reducing the ravages of famine usury and a remedy where america is behind landowner and farm laborer salaam, o little folk! xxiii. the caste system in india no man may rise higher, but may fall lower how fatalism sustains caste contamination by touch a bone collector's pride of rank the "thief caste" caste and the banyan tree a maharaja's defence of caste some forces that are battering down the system foreign travel weakening caste. xxiv. the plight of the hindu woman "woman is not to be trusted" twelve-year-old brides and bridegrooms a wedding procession in agra {xvi} rupees for a wedding feast the plight of the child-wives cruel treatment of widows the picture not wholly dark one worthy tribute to the grace of woman. xxv. more leaves from an india notebook some historic indian cities india no more homogeneous than europe english rule: an interview with mr. krishnaswami iyer indian wealth in a few hands cents a day an incredibly high wage no horses on indian farms bombay a great cotton market the story of a man-eater a snake story to end with. xxvi. what the orient may teach us conservation the keynote what neglect of her forests has cost china forestry lessons from japan and korea conserving individual wealth the essential immorality of waste avoiding the wastes of war preserving our physical stamina and racial strength a lesson from china patriotism as a moral force the coming "conflict of color" oriental vs. occidental ideals. {xvii} illustrations count shige-nobu okuma of japan frontispiece page the giant avenue of cryptomerias at nikko typical japanese costumes and temple architecture japanese farming scenes japanese school children the great buddha (diabutsu) at kamakura the degenerate koreans at rest and at work like scenes from our western prairies manchurian women (showing peculiar head-dress) chinese waste-paper collector pu yi the son of heaven and emperor of the middle kingdom how china is dealing with opium intemperance a man-made desert pumping water for irrigation transportation and travel in china fashionable chinese dinner party how lumber is sawed in the orient a quotation from confucius the great wall of china chinese woman's ruined feet chinese school children the american consulate at antung a filipino's home the carabao, the work-stock of the filipinos an old spanish cathedral society belles of mindanao, philippine islands a street scene in manila {xviii} two kinds of workers in burma types at darjeeling, northern india, and at delhi, central india two rangoon types a hindu faquir some fashionable hindus hindu children the taj mahal from the entrance gate gunga din on dress parade bathing in the sacred ganges at benares the battle-scarred and world-famous residency at lucknow burning the bodies of dead hindus an indian camel cart travel in india {xix} where half the world is waking up { } i japan: the land of upside down "i cannot help thinking," said one of my friends to me when i left home, "that when you get over on the other side of the world, in japan and china, you will have to walk upside down like the flies on the ceiling!" while i find that this is not true in a physical sense, it is true, as mr. percival lowell has pointed out, that, with regard to the manners and customs of the people, everything is reversed, and the surest way to go right is to take pains to go dead wrong! "to speak backward, write backward, read backward, is but the a b c of oriental contrariety." alice need not have gone to wonderland; she should have come to japan. i cannot get used, for example, to seeing men start at what with us would be the back of a book or paper and read toward the front; and it is said that no european or american ever gets used to the construction of a japanese sentence, considered merely from the standpoint of thought-arrangement. i had noticed that the japanese usually ended their sentences with an emphatic upward spurt before i learned that with them the subject of a sentence usually comes last (if at all), as for example, "by a rough road yesterday came john," instead of, "john came by a rough road yesterday." and this, of course, is but one illustration of thousands that might be given to justify my title, "the land of upside down," the land of contradictions to all our occidental ideas. that { } japan is a land "where the flowers have no odor and the birds no song" has passed into a proverb that is almost literally true; and similarly, the far-famed cherry blossoms bear no fruit. the typesetters i saw in the _kokumin shimbum_ office were singing like birds, but the field-hands i saw at komaba were as silent as church-worshippers. the women carry children on their backs and not in their arms. the girls dance with their hands, not with their feet, and alone, not with partners. an ox is worth more than a horse. the people bathe frequently, but in dirty water. the people are exceptionally artistic, yet the stone "lions" at nikko temple look as much like bulldogs as lions. a man's birthday is not celebrated, but the anniversary of his death is. the people are immeasurably polite, and yet often unendurably cocky and conceited. kissing or waltzing, even for man and wife, would be improper in public, but the exposure of the human body excites no surprise. the national government is supposed to be modern, and yet only per cent, of the people--the wealthiest--can vote. famed for kindness though the people are, war correspondents declared the brutality of japanese soldiers to the chinese at port arthur such as "would damn the fairest nation on earth." though the nation is equally noted for simplicity of living, it is a japanese banker, coming to new york, who breaks even america's record for extravagance, by giving a banquet costing $ a plate. the people are supposed to be singularly contented, and yet socialism has had a rapid growth. the emperor is regarded as sacred and almost infallible, and yet the crown prince is not a legitimate son. although the government is one of the most autocratic on earth, it has nevertheless adopted many highly "paternalistic" schemes-government ownership of railways and telegraphs, for example. the people work all the time, but they refuse to work as strenuously as americans. the temples attract thousands of people, but usually only in a spirit of frolic: in the first shinto temple i visited the priests offered me sake (the national liquor) { } to drink. labor per day is amazingly cheap, but, in actual results, little cheaper than american labor. it is amid such a maze of contradictions and surprises that one moves in japan. when i go into a japanese home, for example, it is a hundred times more important to take off my shoes than it is to take off my hat--even though, as happened this week when i called on a celebrated japanese singer, there be holes in my left sock. (but i was comforted later when i learned that on president taft's visit to a famous tokyo teahouse his footwear was found to be in like plight.) speaking of music, we run squarely against another oddity, in that native japanese (as well as chinese) music usually consists merely of monotonous twanging on one or two strings--so that i can now understand the old story of li hung chang's musical experiences in america. his friends took him to hear grand opera singers, to listen to famous violinists, but these moved him not; the most gifted pianists failed equally to interest him. but one night the great chinaman went early to a theatre, and all at once his face beamed with delight, and he turned to his friends in enthusiastic gratitude: "we have found it at last!" he exclaimed. "that is genuine music!" . . . and it was only the orchestra "tuning up" their instruments! i might as well say just here that this story, while good, always struck me as a humorous exaggeration till i came to japan, but the music which i heard the other night in one of the most fashionable and expensive japanese restaurants in tokyo was of exactly the same character--like nothing else in all the world so much as an orchestra tuning up! and yet by way of modification (as usual) it must be said that appreciation of western music is growing, and one seldom hears in classical selections a sweeter combination of voice and piano than mrs. tamaki shibata's, while my japanese student-friend has also surprised me by singing "suwanee river" and other old-time american favorites like a genuine southerner. take the social relations of the japanese people as another { } example of contrariety. here the honorable sex is not the feminine but the masculine. there is even a proverb, i believe, "honor men, despise women." perhaps the translation "despise" is too strong, but certainly it would be regarded as nothing but contemptible weakness for young men to show any such regard for young women, or husbands for their wives, as is common in america. the wives exist solely for their husbands, nor must the wife object if the husband maintains other favorites, or even brings these favorites into the home with her. and although a man is with his wife a much greater part of his time than is the case in america, he may have little or no voice in selecting her; in fact, he may see her only once before marrying. after having seen probably half a million or more japanese, sundays and week-days, i have not noticed a single young japanese couple walking together, and in the one case where i saw a husband and a wife walking thus side by side i discovered on investigation that the man was blind! "for a young couple to select each other as in america," said a young japanese gentleman to me, "would be considered immoral, and as for a young man calling on a young woman, that never happens except clandestinely." and when i asked if it was true that when husband and wife go together the woman must follow the man instead of walking beside him as his equal, he answered: "but it is very, very seldom that the two go out together." my japanese friend also told me that the young man often has considerable influence in selecting his life-partner (in case it is for life: there is one divorce to every three to five marriages), but the young woman has no more voice in the matter than the commodity in any other bargain-and-sale. when a young man or young woman gets of marriageable age, which is rather early, the parents decide on some satisfactory prospective partner, and a "middleman" interviews the parents of the prospective partner aforesaid, and if they are willing, and { } financial and other considerations are satisfactory, it doesn't matter what the girl thinks, nor does it matter much whether young barkis himself is "willin'." the sir anthony absolutes in japan indeed brook no opposition. all of which, while not wholly commendable (my young japanese friend himself dislikes the plan, at least in his own prospective case), has at least the advantage of leaving but remarkably few bachelors and old maids in japan. here every man's house may not be his castle, but it is certainly his nursery. usually, too, in the towns at least, his home is his shop; the front part full of wares, with no hard and fast dividing line between merchandise rooms and the living rooms, children being equally conspicuous and numerous in both compartments. japan is still governed largely on patriarchal lines. the emperors themselves depend largely on the patriarchal spirit for their power, claiming direct descent in unbroken line from the sun-goddess, while the people are supposed to be themselves descendants of emperors or of minor gods. in family life the patriarchal idea is still more prominent, the father being the virtual ruler until he abdicates in favor of the eldest son. ancestor-worship is general, of course, and a typical case is that of my young nikko friend, who tells me that in his home are memorial tablets to six of his most recently deceased ancestors, and that hot rice is placed before these tablets each morning. now the teaching is that the spirits of the dead need the odor of the rice for nourishment, and also require worship of other kinds. consequently the worst misfortune that can befall a man is to die without heirs to honor his memory (the mere dying itself is not so bad); and if an oldest son die unmarried such action amounts almost to treason to the family. moreover, if a man be without sons (daughters don't count), he may adopt a son; and the cases of adoption are surprisingly frequent. count okuma, ex-prime minister of the empire, whom i visited last sunday, adopted his son-in-law as his { } legal son. a distinguished banker i visited is also an adopted son; and in a comparatively brief list of eminent japanese, a sort of abbreviated national "who's who," i find perhaps twenty cases in which these eminent officials and leaders have been adopted and bear other family names than those with which they were born. the willingness to give up one's name in adoption, viewed in the light of the excessive devotion to one's own ancestors and family name, is only another illustration of japanese contrariety. it is a land of surprises. miyanoshita, japan. { } ii snapshots of japanese life and philosophy "what is a japanese city like?" well, let us "suppose," as the children say. you know the american city nearest you, or the one you live in. suppose then you should wake up in this city to-morrow morning and find in the first place that forty-nine people out of every fifty have put on such unheard-of clothing as to make you rub your eyes in wonder as to whether you are asleep or awake; next, that everybody has become six inches shorter, and that all these hundred-thousand five-foot men and four-foot women have unanimously developed most violent sunburn--have become bronzed almost beyond recognition. moreover, the high buildings you once knew have all disappeared, and a wilderness chiefly of tiny one and two story houses has taken their places, wherein the first story, even in two-story buildings, is so low that all your new brown friends warn you by a gesture to duck your head as you go through the doors, while the second story is usually little more than a garret. next, a wild jargon of unmeaning voices strikes your ear and you discover that ninety-nine people out of a hundred have forgotten how to speak english. more than this, the english signs are no more, and on the billboards and before the business offices are marks that look as if a thousand ostriches fresh from a thousand ink barrels had been set to scratching new signs to take the places of the old. you pick up a book { } or the morning paper, and the same thing has happened--pig tracks, chicken tracks, and double bowknots fantastically tied instead of english type--and everybody begins at the back of the book and reads toward him instead of reading the way you have grown used to! and the buggies, carriages, and automobiles: what on earth has become of them? there's hardly a horse in sight, but dozens or scores of men with bare legs and odd clothes, each flying around pulling a light two-wheeled jinrikisha, a man or a woman seated in each man-drawn "buggy"; and there are dozens of other bare-legged men laboriously pulling heavy loads of vegetables, freight, and even lumber and giant telegraph poles! you jump into one of the rickshaws and forget your strange little puck-like steed in the marvel of your surroundings till a voice from the shafts makes you feel like balaam when the ass spoke to him! by this time you begin to get a hazy idea as to how the people are dressed, and as nearly as you can make out, it is something like this: evidently all the inhabitants of an ancient roman city, a modern american town, a half-dozen hindoo villages, and several thousand seashore bathers have all thrown their clothes--(or the lack of them!)--into one tremendous pile, and everybody has rushed in pell-mell and put on the first thing, or the first two or three things, that came to hand. there is every conceivable type of clothing, but perhaps the larger number have wound up with something like a light bathing suit and a sort of gingham dressing-gown belted over it; and if one has less than this, why, then, as the japanese say, "_shikata na gai_" (all right; it can't be helped). in the shops and stores one passes a few men clad only in their own integrity and a loin-cloth, and both children and grown people dress with a hundred times more disregard of convention than the negroes in america. of shoes, there is an equally great variety as of clothing, { } but the majority of men, women, and children (in muddy weather at least) have compromised on the "getas," a sort of wooden sole strapped on the foot, with wooden pieces put fore and aft the instep, these pieces throwing the foot and sole about three inches above ground. it looks almost as difficult to walk in them as to walk on stilts, but away the people go, young and old, and the muddy places marked by the strange footwear look as if the corrugated wheels of a hundred mowing-machines had passed along! in most cases the clatter of the "get as" is the loudest noise on the streets, for the japanese are remarkably quiet: in tokyo to-day i saw a thousand of them waiting to see the empress, and an american crowd would literally have made more noise in a minute than they made in an hour. on entering their houses, as we have already noticed, the people take off their getas, sandals, shoes or whatever outer footwear is used--for the very good reason that the people sit on the floor (on mats or on the floor itself), eat on the floor (very daintily, however), and sleep on the floor, so that to walk over the floor here with muddy feet would be the same as if an american should walk roughshod over his chairs, table and bed. even in the japanese department store i visited this morning cloth covers were put on my shoes, and this afternoon at the ni-no go reiya shinto temple i had to go in my stocking feet. then the babies--who ever saw as many babies to the square inch? about per cent of the male population seems to be hauling other men, but per cent, of the female population seems hardly enough to carry the wise and happy-looking little jap babies--not in go-carts (a go-cart or a hired nurse is almost never seen), but on the back. and these little women who when standing are only about as tall as you are when sitting--they seem hardly more than children themselves, so that you recall kipling's saying of japan: "a four-foot child walks with a three-foot child, who is holding the hand { } of a two-foot child, who carries on her back a one-foot child." boys in their teens are also seen with babies strapped on their backs in the same loose-fitting, sack-like baby-holders, and after work-time the father takes a turn at the same business. you are reminded of the negro who said to another: "'fo gawd, bill, you's got the mos' chillun any nigger i ever seed. why, i passed yo' house yistiddy mornin' at nine erclock and throwed a brick on top and hollered 'fiah!' an' at five erclock in the evenin' nigger chillun was still runnin' out!" it seems sometimes as if such an incident, with jap children substituted for negroes (i doubt if there is a negro here), might actually happen in japan. and those two men bowing to each other as they meet--are they rehearsing as alphonse and gaston for the comedy show to-night, or are they serious? no, they are serious, for yonder is another pair meeting in the same way, and yonder another couple separating with even more violent "convulsions of politeness"--and nobody laughing but yourself. no wonder the japanese are strong: they only need to meet a few friends a day to get exercise enough to keep them in trim! look again: those women meeting at the depot, for example (for there are familiar-looking street cars and less familiar-looking passenger cars amid all these strange surroundings). there is the woman with her hair combed straight back, which, i am told, means that she is a widow; one with an odd japanese topknot, which means that she is married, and a younger one whose hair is arranged in the style of unmarried girls; and though they are evidently bosom friends, they do not embrace and kiss at meeting--to kiss in public would be shocking to the japanese--and you can only guess the depth of their affection by the greater warmth and emphasis of their bows to one another. { } [illustration: the giant avenue of cryptomerias at nikko.] this magnificent avenue, twenty-five miles in length, consists of trees planted by daimyos, or small lords, as a memorial to the great japanese warrior and statesman, iyeyasu. a spirit of simplicity and love of nature has produced a nobler monument than extravagance could possibly have done. { } [illustration: typical japanese costumes and temple architecture.] in the temple picture notice also how the limbs of the trees have been trained. many fantastic effects are often produced in this way. { continued} they are trained in politeness from their youth up, are these japanese; and it is perhaps the greatest charm of both young and old. i must have seen a full hundred thousand japanese { } by this time, and i do not recall one in the attitude of scolding or abuse, while authorities tell me that the japanese language simply has no words to enable one to swear or curse. i was also interested to have the american ambassador here tell me that in all his three years' stay in japan, and with all the freedom with which a million children run about the streets and stores, he has never seen a man impatient with a child. at the imperial university yesterday morning i noticed two college boys part with the same deep courtesy used by the older men, and the little five-year-old girl near chuzenji the other day thanked me for my gift with the most graceful of eastern salaams. i shall not say that the excessive ceremoniousness of the men does not at times seem ludicrous, but when you come to your hotel dining-room, and the inexpressibly dainty little japanese girls, moving almost noiselessly on their sandaled feet (no getas indoors) welcome each guest with smiling bows, happy, refined and graceful, a very different impression of japanese courtesy comes over you. in america, unfortunately, the like courteous attention under such circumstances might be misinterpreted, but here you are only reminded of how a thousand years of courtesy and gentle manners have given the women of japan--pretty though they are not, judged by our western standards--an unsurpassed grace of manner and happiness of disposition together with shakespeare's well-praised "voice, soft and low, an excellent thing in woman." and here and everywhere, as in the old fable of the man with the overcoat, must not such sun-like gentleness be more powerful in compelling deference than all the stormy strength of the "new woman"? which reminds me that however much the social, political, and economic revolution of the last forty years may have changed the national character (and upon this point i shall not speak till later), it is certain that old japan and the old south were distinguished for not a few characteristics { } in common. for example, we are reminded of the south's ante-bellum civilization when we learn that in old japan "the business of money-making was held in contempt by the superior classes," and of all forms of business, agriculture was held in highest esteem. next to the nobility stood the samurai, or soldier class, the social rank of all other persons then being as follows: ( ) farmers, ( ) artisans, ( ) merchants. and farming was thus not only regarded as the most honorable of all occupations, but farmers in the early ages were privileged to wear swords, the emblem of rank next to the nobility. below the farmers ranked the mechanic element, while as lafcadio hearn tells us: "the commercial class (a kindo), including bankers, merchants, shopkeepers, and traders of all kinds, was the lowest officially recognized. the business of money-making was held in contempt by the superior classes; and all methods of profiting by the purchase and resale of the produce of labor were regarded as dishonorable. . . . there is a generally, in militant society, small respect for the common forms of labor. but in old japan the occupation of the farmer and artisan were not despised; trade alone appears to have been considered degrading, and the distinction may have been partly a moral one." i wonder if there is not really a great deal more than we have realized in what hearn here suggests as to the soundness and essential "morality" of the japanese plan of ranking farming and manufacturing above trade as occupations? morally and economically considered, it is the men who actually produce wealth rather than those men who trade or barter in the products of other men's labor who deserve most honor. they serve the world best: the barterers are, in limited numbers, necessary and useful servants of those who do produce, but the strength of a state manifestly lies in the classes who are really creators of values. tokyo, japan. { } iii japanese farming and farmer folk i went yesterday to the agricultural college of the imperial university of japan, situated at komaba, near tokyo, where i had an appointment with director matsui. my purpose was to get further information concerning the general condition of japanese farmers and japanese farming, but the biggest fact my researches brought out was not in regard to rice or barley or potatoes or taro, or any other field product of the mikado's empire. rather it was a fact with regard to what is in every land the most important of all crops--the crop of boys and girls. and the big fact i discovered was simply this: these brown mongolian farm children, whose land we opened to civilization but fifty years ago, and whom we thought of but yesterday as backward "heathen"--they are getting, as a general proposition, just twice as much schooling as is furnished pupils in many of our american rural districts: their parents are providing, in their zeal for their children's welfare, just twice as good educational facilities as we are giving many of our white farm boys and girls--boys and girls who have in their veins the blood of a race which has carried the flag of human progress for a thousand years, and whom we are expecting to continue leaders in civilization and enlightenment. in other words, so doctor matsui told me (and i went to-day to the japanese national department of education to verify the fact), the japanese farm boys and girls are getting ten months' schooling a year, while the farm boy or girl { } in my own state is getting only five or six months--and when i was in a country school fifteen years ago, not nearly so much as that! do you wonder that i avoided telling the japanese educational officer just how our provision for farm boys and girls compared with japan's? also that i neglected to tell him how we compare in the matter of utilizing school advantages, when he showed me that of all the children between six and fourteen in all the empire of japan the school attendance is per cent.-- out of every children of "school age" attending school, and in several provinces out of every ! thirty-five years ago the average school attendance in japan was only , and in only , but by the time of the war with russia it had passed , and since then has been climbing straight and steadily toward the amazing maximum itself, the official figures showing a gain of per cent, a year-- per cent., then , then , then , and now , and the leaders are now ambitious for or , as they told me to-day. when this officer of an "inferior race" showed me, furthermore, that japan is so intent upon educating every boy and girl in her borders that she compels attendance on the public schools for eight years, i didn't tell him that in civilized america, in the great enlightened nation so long held up to him as a model, demagogues and others in many states on one pretext or another have defeated every effort for effective compulsory education laws, so that if a boy's parents are indifferent to his future, the state does not compel them to give him a fighting chance in life--for the state's own sake and for the boy's. { } [illustration: japanese farming scenes.] the upper picture shows a rice field in the foreground, tea alongside the buildings, and the graceful feathery bamboo in the background; also, an unusual sight on a japanese farm, a group of cattle. the lower picture shows the work of transplanting rice. { } [illustration: japanese school children.] boys predominate in the upper picture, girls in the lower. a system of compulsory education is enforced in japan, and per cent, of the children of school age attend. even the country schools run ten months in the year--longer than in a majority of our states. { continued} with these facts before me, as i have said, i did not make any vainglorious boasts of the great educational progress of our own states these last twenty years: however much progress we have made, these brown japanese "heathen" have beaten us. while there is no official census on the question of illiteracy here, every japanese man in his twenties must serve { } two years in the army (unless he is in a normal school studying to be a teacher), and a record is made as to the literacy or illiteracy of each recruit. that is to say, there is a place where the fact of any recruit's inability to read would be recorded, but the department of education informed me to-day that the illiterate column is now absolutely blank. there are no illiterates among japan's rising generation. more than this, we have to reflect that it is in their poverty that the japanese are thus doing more than we are doing in our plenty. we waste more in a year than they make. even with a hundred acres of land the american farmer is likely to consider himself poor, but when i asked my japanese guide the other day if two _cho_ (five acres) would be an average sized farm here he said: "no, not an average; such a man would be regarded as a middle-class farmer--a rather large farmer." and the figures which i have just obtained in a call on the national department of agriculture and commerce more than justify the reply. forty-six farmers out of every in japan own less than one and one quarter acres of land; more out of every own less than two and one half acres, and only one man in a hundred owns as much as twenty-five acres. (in the matter of cultivation also i find that per cent, cultivate less than two and one half acres, and nearly half are tenants.) this year the situation is even worse than usual, for disastrous floods have reduced the rice crop, which represents one half japan's crop values, per cent, below last year's figures, and many people will suffer. ordinarily, however, these little handkerchief-sized farms yield amazingly. it has been shown by prof. f. h. king that the fields of japan are cultivated so intensively, fertilized so painstakingly, and kept so continuously producing some crop, that they feed people to the square mile-- , square miles of cultivated fields in the main islands supporting a population of , , . if the tilled fields of iowa, for { } example, supported an equal number of people per square mile, the population so supported would be over , , . that state alone could feed the entire population of the united states and then have an excess product left for export to other countries! if north carolina did as well with her cultivated land she would support , , people, and if mississippi's , square miles of land under cultivation supported each persons, then , , people, or thirteen times the present population of the state, could live off their produce! and yet these japanese lands have been in cultivation for unnumbered centuries. some of them may have been cleared when king herod trembled from his dream of a new-born rival in judea, and certainly "the glory that was greece and the grandeur that was rome" had not faded from the earth when some of these fields began their age-long ministry to human need. and they have been kept fertile simply by each farmer putting back on the ground every ounce of fertility taken from it, for commercial fertilizers were absolutely unknown until our own generation. of course, with a population so dense and with each man cultivating an area no larger than a garden-patch in america, the people are poor, and the wonder is that they are able to produce food enough to keep the country from actual want. practically no animal meat is eaten; if we except fish, the average american eats nearly twice as much meat in a week as the average japanese does in a year: to be exact, pounds of meat per capita is required per year for the average american against . pounds for the average japanese! many of the farmers here are too poor even to eat a good quality of rice. consequently japan presents the odd phenomenon of being at once an exporter and a large importer of rice. poor farmers sell their good rice and buy a poorer quality brought in from the mainland of asia and mix it with barley for grinding. only about one farmer in three has a horse or an ox; in most cases all the work must be done by hand and with crude tools. { } it is pitiful--or rather i should say, it would be pitiful if they did not appear so contented--to see men breaking the ground not by plowing but by digging with kuwas: long-handled tools with blades perhaps six inches wide and two feet long. at the agricultural college farm in komaba i saw about thirty japanese weeding rice with the kama--a tool much like an old-fashioned sickle except that the blade is straight: the right hand quickly cut the roots of the weed or grass plant and the left hand as quickly pulled it up. with the same sickle-like kamas about thirty other japanese were cutting and shocking corn: they are at least too advanced to pull fodder, i was interested to notice! with land so scarce, it is of course necessary to keep something on the ground every growing day from year's end to year's end. truckers and gardeners raise three crops a year. rice, as a rule, is not sown as with us, but the plants are transplanted as we transplant cabbage or tomato plants (but so close together, of course, that the ripening fields look as if they had been sown), in order that the farmer may save the time the rice plants are getting to the transplanting stage. that is to say, some other crop is maturing on the land while the rice plants are growing large enough to transplant. riding through the country almost anywhere you will notice the tender young plants of some new crop showing between the rows of some earlier-planted crop now maturing or newly harvested. the crops in japan are not very varied. rice represents half the agricultural values. next to rice is the silkworm industry, and then barley, wheat, vegetables, soy beans, sweet potatoes, and fruits. there is especial interest in fruit growing just now. sweet potatoes grow more luxuriantly than in any other country i have ever seen, and are much used for food. i have seen one or two little patches of cotton, but evidently only for home spinning, although i hear it said that in korea, which has just been formally annexed as japanese territory, cotton can be profitably grown. a much { } cultivated plant, with leaves like those of the lotus or water-lily, is the taro, which i also saw growing in hawaii; its roots are used for food as potatoes are. every particle of fertility of every kind, as i have said, is religiously saved, and in recent years a considerable demand for commercial fertilizers has sprung up, $ to $ worth per acre being a normal application. so much for the farming country as it has impressed me around tokyo. a few days ago i saw a somewhat different agricultural area-- miles of great rice-farming land between miyanoshita and kyoto. this country is different from that around yokahoma and north of tokyo in that it is so much more rolling and mountainous (majestic mount fuji, supreme among peaks, was in sight several hours) and greater efforts are therefore necessary to take care of the soil. but when such effort is necessary in japan, it is sure to be made. the population is so dense that every one realizes the essential criminality of soil-waste, of the destruction of the one resource which must support human life as long as the race shall last. much of the land is in terraces, or, perhaps i should say, tiers. that is to say, here will be a half-acre or an acre from eighteen inches to six feet higher (all as level as a threshing-floor) than a similar level piece adjoining. while the levelling is helpful in any case for the preservation of fertility and the prevention of washing, the tier system is necessary in many cases on account of the irrigation methods used in rice growing. while the lower plot is flooded for rice, upland crops may be growing on the adjacent elevated acre or half-acre. the hillside or mountain slopes are also cultivated to the last available foot, and in dry seasons you may even see the men and women carrying buckets uphill to water any suffering crop. in nearly all cases the rows are on a level. where there was once a slanting hillside the japanese here dig it down or grade it, and the mountainsides are often enormous steps or { } stairs; one level terrace after another, each held in place by turf or rock wall. rice growing, as it is conducted in japan, certainly calls for much bitter toil. the land must be broken by hand; into the muddy, miry, water-covered rice fields the farmer-folk must wade, to plant the rice laboriously, plant by plant; then the cultivation and harvesting is also done by hand, and even the threshing, i understand. when we recall that the net result of all this bitter toil is only a bare existence made increasingly hard by the steady rise in land-taxes, and that the japanese people know practically none of the diversions which give joy and color to american and english country life, it is no wonder that thousands of farmers are leaving their two and three acre plots, too small to produce a decent living for a family, to try their fortunes in the factories and the towns. specifically, it may be mentioned that the boys from the farms who go into the army for the compulsory two years' service are reported as seldom returning to the country. true, the government is trying to help matters to some extent (though this is indeed but little) by lending money to banks at low rates of interest with the understanding that the farmers may then borrow from these banks at rates but little higher; and there are also in most communities, i learn, "cooperative credit societies" (corresponding somewhat to the mutual building and loan societies in american towns), by means of which the farmers escape the clutches of the shylock money-lenders who have heretofore charged as high as to per cent. for advances. the japanese farmers invest their surplus funds in these "cooperative credit societies," just as they would in savings banks, except that in their case their savings are used solely for helping their immediate neighbors and neighborhoods. a judicious committee passes upon each small loan, and while the interest rates might seem high to us, we have to remember that money everywhere here commands higher interest than in america. { } i am the more interested in these "cooperative credit societies," because they seem to me to embrace features which our american farmers would do well to adopt. it is said that the farmers live on better food than they had twenty years ago, but i should think that there has been little improvement in the little thatch-roofed houses in which they live. these houses are grouped into small villages, as are the farm houses in europe, the farmer going out from the settlement to his fields each working day, much after the fashion of the workers on the largest american plantations. buildings corresponding to our american two-story houses are almost never seen in towns here and absolutely never in farming sections, the farm home, like the town home, usually consisting of a story and a half, with sliding walls of paper-covered sash between the rooms, a sort of box for the fire on which the meals are cooked, and no chimney--little better, though much cleaner, than the negro cabins in the south. in winter the people nearly freeze, or would but for the fact that the men put on heavy woolens, and the women pile on cotton padding until they look almost like walking feather beds. true as are the things that i have said in this article, i fear that my average reader would get a very gloomy and false conception of japanese farm life if i should stop here. the truth is that, so far as my observation goes, i have seen nothing to indicate that the rural population of japan is not now as happy as the rural population in america. if their possessions are few, so are their wants. in fact. dr. juichi soyeda, one of the country's leading men, in talking to me, expressed a doubt as to whether the new civilization of japan will really produce greater average happiness than the old rural seclusion and isolation (a doubt, however, which i do not share). "our farm people," he said, "are hard-working, frugal, honest, cheerful, and while their possessions are small, there is little actual want among them. a greater { } number than in most other countries are home-owners, and, altogether, they form the backbone of an empire." doctor soyeda went on to give a noteworthy illustration of the affection of the people for their home farms. "the japanese," he said, "have a term of contempt for the man who sells an old homestead." there is no english word equivalent to it, but it means "a seller of the ancestral land," and to say it of a man is almost equivalent to reflecting upon his character or honor! i wish that we might develop in america such a spirit of affection for our farm homes. i wish, too, that we might develop the japanese love of the beautiful in nature. no matter how small and cramped the yard about the tiny home here, you are almost sure to find the beauty of shrub and tree and neatly trimmed hedge, and in tokyo the whole population looks forward with connoisseur-like enthusiasm to the season for wistaria blooms in earliest spring, to the cherry blossom season in april, to lotus-time in mid-summer, and to the chrysanthemum shows in the fall. the fame of tokyo's cherry blossoms has already gone around the world, and thus they not only add to the pleasure of its citizens, but give the city a distinction of no small financial advantage as well. why may not our civic improvement associations, women's clubs, etc., get an idea here for our american towns? a long avenue of beautiful trees along a road or street, even if trees without blossoms, would give distinction to any small village or to any farm. every one who has been to europe will recall the long lines of lombardy poplars that make the fair vision of many french roads linger long in the memory, and i can never forget the magnificent avenue of cryptomerias--gigantic in size, straight as ship masts, fair as the cedars of lebanon--that line the road leading to the great shogun iyeyasu's tomb in nikko. lastly, these people are fired by the thought that a better day is coming. their children are going to school, as the { } older folk could not, and as a japanese editor said to me this week: "every boy in the empire believes he may some day become premier!" what is the lesson of it all? is it not just this: that we in america should feel highly favored in that we have such magnificent resources, and yet as sharply rebuked in that we are doing so little with them. and most of all, is there not need for us to emulate the broad patriotism and the heroic spirit of self-sacrifice in which the land of the rising sun, in spite of dire poverty, is providing ten-months schools for every boy and girl in all its borders? and, indeed, how otherwise can we make sure, before it is too late, that our american farm boys and girls will not be outdistanced in twentieth-century achievement by the children of a people our fathers regarded only as hopeless "heathen?" tokyo, japan. { } iv "welfare work" in japanese factories the obvious truth is that the agricultural population of japan is too congested. it is a physical impossibility for a people to live in genuine comfort on such small pocket-handkerchief pieces of land, even though their standards do not call for shoes or tables, beds or chairs, western houses or western clothing. the almost exclusive use of hand labor, too, is uneconomic, seen from a large standpoint, and it would seem that in future farmers must combine, as they are already beginning to do, in order to purchase horses and horse-power tools to be used in common by a number of farmers. in the tokyo seed, plant & implement company store the other day i saw a number of widely advertised american tools, and the manager told me the demand for them is increasing. thus with a smaller number of men required to produce the nation's food, a larger number may engage in manufacturing, and gradually the same principle of division of labor which has brought western people to high standards of living, comfort, and earning power will produce much the same result in japan. already wages, astonishingly low as they are to-day to an ordinary american, have increased per cent, in the last eight or ten years, this increase being partly due to the general cheapening of money the world over, and partly also to the increased efficiency of the average laborer. unfortunately, however, japan is not content to rely upon natural law for the development of its manufactures. adam { } smith said in his "wealth of nations" (published the year of our american declaration of independence), that the policy of all european nations since the downfall of the roman empire had been to help manufacturing, the industry of the towns, rather than agriculture, the industry of the country--a policy in which america later imitated europe. japan now follows suit. for a long time the government has paid enormous subsidies to shipbuilding and manufacturing corporations, and now a high tariff has been enacted, which will still further increase the cost of living for the agricultural classes, comprising, as they do, two thirds of the country's population. "'with your cheap labor and all the colossal oriental market right at your door," i said to editor shihotsu of the _kokumin shimbun_ a day or two ago, "what excuse is there for further dependence on the government? what can be the effect of your new tariff except to increase the burdens of the farmer for the benefit of the manufacturer?" and while defending the policy, he admitted that i had stated the practical effect of the policy. "they are domestic consumption duties," was his phrase; and count okuma, one of the empire's ablest men, once minister of agriculture, has also pointed out how injuriously the new law will affect the masses of the people. "some would argue," he said in a speech at osaka, "that the duties are paid by the country from which the goods are imported. that this is not the case is at once seen by the fact that an increase in duty means a rise in the price of an article in the country imposing the duty, and this to the actual consumer often amounts to more than the rise in the duty. in these cases consumers pay the duty themselves; and the customs revenues, so far from being a national asset, are merely another form of taxation paid by the people." and the masses in japan, already staggering under the enormous burden of an average tax amounting to per cent, of their earnings (on account of their wars with china and russia and their enormous army and navy expenditure), are ill-prepared to stand further { } taxation for the benefit of special interests. on the whole, there seems to have been much truth in what a recent authority said on this subject: "the japanese manufacturers are concerned only to make monopoly profits out of the consumer. if they can do that, they will not worry about foreign markets, from which, in fact, their policy is bound more and more to exclude them." in any case, manufacturing in japan is bound to increase, but it ought not to increase through unjust oppression of agriculture or at the expense of the physical stamina of the race. this fact is now winning recognition not only from the nation at large, but from public-spirited manufacturers as well. some very notable evidence upon this point came to me wednesday when influential friends secured special permission, not often granted to strangers, for me to visit the great kanegafuchi cotton spinning company's plant near tokyo--the great surprise being not that i succeeded in getting permission to visit this famous factory, though that was partly surprising, but in what i saw on the visit. much has been said and written as to the utterly deplorable condition of japanese factory workers, and i was quite prepared for sights that would outrage my feelings of humanity. imagine my surprise, therefore, when i found the manager making a hobby of "welfare work" for his operatives and with a system of such work modelled after the krupp system in germany, the best in the world! and as the kanegafuchi company has seventeen factories in all, representing several cities and aggregating over , spindles, being one of the most famous industries of japan, it will be seen that its example is by no means without significance. the kanegafuchi's tokyo factories alone employ operatives, and they are cleaner, i should say, than most of our stores and offices. the same thing is true of their great hospital and boarding-house, and the dining-room is also { } surprisingly clean and well kept. of the welfare work proper a whole article could be written. each operative pays per cent, of his or her wages (most operatives are women) into a common insurance and pension fund, and the company, out of its earnings, pays into the fund an equal amount. from this a pension is given the family of any employee who dies, while if an operative gets sick or is injured, a committee, assisted by director fuji, allows a suitable pension until recovery. in the case, however, of long-standing disease or disability, help is given, after ten years, from still another fund. this employees' pension fund now amounts to $ , , while other funds given partly or wholly by the company include $ , for operatives' sanitary fund, $ , in a fund "for promoting operatives' welfare," and $ , for erecting an operatives' sanatorium. the company also has a savings department, paying per cent, on long-time deposits made by employees. there is an excellent theatre and dance hall at the tokyo plant, and i suppose at the other branches also, and five physicians are regularly employed to look after the health of operatives. while the hours of labor in japan generally are inexcusably long and, as a rule, only two rest days a month are allowed, the kanegafuchi company observes the biblical seventh-day rest with profitable results. the work hours are long yet, it is true, ten hours having been the rule up to october , and now nine and one half hours. the ten hours this summer embraced the time from to , with a half hour's rest from to : , one hour from : to : , and another half hour from to : ; a system of halfway rests not common in america, i believe. conditions at kanegafuchi, of course, are not ideal, nor would i hold them up as a general model for american mills. rather should america ask: "if japan in a primitive stage of industrial evolution is doing so much, how much more ought we to do?" more noteworthy still is the fact that the sentiment of the country is loudly and insistently demanding a law { } to stop the evils of child labor and night work for women, which, on the whole, are undoubtedly bad--very bad. the kanegafuchi welfare work is exceptional, but it is in line with the new spirit of the people. that japan with its factory system not yet extensive, its people used to a struggle for existence tenfold harder than ours, and with a population comprising only the wealthy or capitalist class--that under such conditions, these buddhist japanese should still make effective demand for adequate factory labor legislation is enough to put to shame many a christian state in which our voters still permit conditions that reproach our boasted chivalry and humanity. perhaps all the changes needed cannot be made at once without injury to manufacturing interests, but in that case the law should at least require a gradual and steady approach to model conditions--a distinct step forward each six months until at the end of three years, or five years at longest, every state should have a law as good as that of massachusetts. tokyo, japan. { } v does japanese competition menace the white man's trade? i with all the markets of the orient right at japan's doors and labor to be had for a mere song--four fifths of her cotton-factory workers, girls and women averaging - / cents a day, and the male labor averaging only cents--it is simply useless for europe and america to attempt to compete with her in any line she chooses to monopolize. now that she has recovered from her wars, she will doubtless forge to the front as dramatically as an industrial power as she has already done as a military and maritime power, while other nations, helpless in competition, must simply surrender to the mikado-land the lion's share of asiatic trade--the richest prize of twentieth-century commerce. in some such strain as this prophets of evil among english and american manufacturers have talked for several years. for the last few months, professing to see in japan's adoption of a high protective tariff partial confirmation of their predictions, they have assumed added authority. their arguments, too, are so plausible and the facts as to japan's low wage scale so patent that the world has become acutely interested in the matter. i account myself especially fortunate, therefore, in having been able to spend several weeks under peculiarly favorable circumstances in a first-hand study of japanese industrial { } conditions. i have been in great factories and business offices; i have talked with both japanese and foreign manufacturers who employ laborers by the thousand; i have had the views of the most distinguished financial leaders of the empire as well as of the great captains of industry; i have talked with several men who have served in the emperor's cabinet, including one who has stood next to the mikado himself in power; and at the same time i have taken pains to get the views of english and american consular officials, commercial attaches and travelers, and of newspaper men both foreign and native. and yet after having seen the big factories and the little factory-workers in tokyo and osaka, after having listened to the most ambitious of japan's industrial leaders, i shall leave the country convinced of the folly of the talk that white labor cannot compete with japanese labor. i believe indeed that the outlook is encouraging for manufacturing in the mikado's empire, but i do not believe that this development is to be regarded as a menace to english or american industry. any view to the contrary, it seems to me, must be based upon a radical misconception of conditions as they are. in the very outset, the assumed parallel between japan's rise as a military power and her predicted rise as an industrial power should be branded as the groundless non sequitur that it is. "all our present has its roots in the past," as my first japanese acquaintance said to me, and we ignore fundamental facts when we forget that for centuries unnumbered japan existed for the soldier, as the rosebush for the blossom. the man of martial courage was the goal of all her striving, the end of all her travail. society was a military aristocracy, the samurai the privileged class. and at the same time commerce was despised as dishonorable and industry merely tolerated as a necessary evil. in the japan of yalu, liao-yang, and mukden we have no modern minerva springing full-armed from the head of jove, but rather an unrecognized ulysses { } of ancient skill surprising onlookers merely ignorant of the long record of his prowess. viewed from the same historical standpoint, however, industrial japan is a mere learner, unskilled, with the long and weary price of victory yet to pay. in the race she has to run, moreover, the mikado-land has no such advantages as many of our people have been led to believe. in america it has long been my conviction that cheap labor is never cheap; that so-called "cheap labor" is a curse to any community--not because it is cheap but because it is inefficient. the so-called cheap negro labor in the south, for example, i have come to regard as perhaps the dearest on the continent. here in japan, however, i was quite prepared to find that this theory would not hold good. by reason of conditions in a primitive stage of industrial organization, i thought that i might find cheap labor with all the advantages, in so far as there are any, and few of the disadvantages, encountered elsewhere. but it is not so. an american factory owner in osaka, summing up his job's trials with raw japanese labor, used exactly my own phrase in a newspaper article a few days ago, "cheap labor is never cheap." and all my investigations have convinced me that the remark is as applicable in japan as it is in america or england. the per capita wages of japanese laborers here are, of course, amazingly low. the latest statistics, as furnished by the department of finance, indicate a daily wage (american money) of cents for carpenters, - / cents for shoemakers, cents for blacksmiths, - / cents for compositors, - / cents for male farm laborers, and cents for male weavers, and cents for female. in the cotton factories i visited, those of the better sort, the wages run from cents a day for the youngest children to cents a day for good women workers. in a mousselaine mill i was told that the average wages were - / cents, ranging from cents to a maximum of cents for the most skilled employees. and this, be it remembered, was { } for eleven hours' work and in a factory requiring a higher grade of efficiency than the average. but in spite of the fact that such figures as these were well known to him, it was my host in the first japanese house to which i was invited--one of the emperor's privy councillors, and a man of much travel and culture who had studied commercial conditions at home and abroad rather profoundly--who expressed the conclusion that japanese factory labor when reduced to terms of efficiency is not greatly cheaper than european, an opinion which has since grown rather trite in view of the number of times that i have heard it. "in the old handicrafts and family industries to which our people have been accustomed," my host declared, "we can beat the world, but the moment we turn to modern industrial machinery on a large scale the newness of our endeavor tells against us in a hundred hindering ways. numbers of times i have sought to work out some industrial policy which had succeeded, and could not but have succeeded, in england, germany, or america, only to meet general failure here because of the unconsidered elements of a different environment, a totally different stage of industrial evolution. warriors from the beginning and with a record for continuous government unsurpassed by any european country, our political and military achievements are but the fruitage of our long history, but in industry we must simply wait through patient generations to reach the stage represented by the englishman, irishman, or german, who takes to machinery as if by instinct." all my investigations since have confirmed the philosophy of this distinguished japanese whose name, if i should mention it, would be familiar to many in america and england. in the tokyo branch of the kanegafuchi spinning company (a company which controls , spindles) the director, speaking from the experience of one of the greatest and best conducted industries in japan, declared: "your skilled factory laborers in america or england will work four sides of a ring frame; our unskilled laborer may work only one." a young englishman in another factory declared: "it takes five men here to do work that i and my mate would take care of at home." an american vice-consul told me that it takes three or four times as much japanese as foreign labor to look after an equal number of looms. a japanese expert just back from europe declared recently that "lancashire labor is more expensive than ours, but really cheaper." similarly the tokyo correspondent of the london _times_ summing up an eight-column review of japanese industry, observed: "if we go to the bottom of the question and consider what is being paid as wages and what is being obtained as the product of labor in japan, we may find that japanese labor is not cheaper than in other countries." { } ii my own conviction is that in actual output the japanese labor is somewhat cheaper than american or european labor, but not greatly so, and that even this margin of excess in comparative cheapness represents mainly a blood-tax on the lives and energies of the japanese people, the result of having no legislation to restrain the ruinous overwork of women and little children--a grievous debt which the nation must pay at the expense of its own stamina and which the manufacturers must also pay in part through the failure to develop experienced and able-bodied laborers. the latest "japan year book" expresses the view that "in per capita output two or three skilled japanese workers correspond to one foreign," but under present conditions the difficulty here is to find the skilled workers at all. when mr. oka, of the department of commerce and agriculture, told me that the average japanese factory hand remains in the business less than two years, i was astonished, but inquiry from original sources confirmed the view. with the best system of welfare work in the empire, the kanegafuchi company keeps its laborers two and a half { } to three years, but in a mill in osaka of the better sort, employing hands, i was told that only per cent, had been at work as long as three years. under such conditions, the majority of the operatives at any time must be in a stage of deplorable inexperience, and it is no wonder that the "year book" just quoted goes on to confess that "one serious defect of the production is lack of uniformity in quality--attributed to unskilled labor and overwork of machinery." the explanation of this situation, of course, is largely to be found in the fact that japanese industries are women's industries--there being seven times as large a proportion of women to men, the department of commerce informs me, as in european and american manufacturing. these women workers are mostly from the country. their purpose is only to work two or three years before getting married, and thousands of them, called home to marry the husbands their parents have selected, or else giving way physically under strain, quit work before their contracts expire. "we have almost no factory laborers who look on the work as a life business," was an expression often repeated to me. not only in the mills, but in numerous other lines of work, have i seen illustrations of the primitive stage of japan's industrial efficiency. as a concrete illustration i wish i might pass to each reader the box of kobe-made matches on the table before me (for match-making of this sort is an important industry here, as well as the sort conducted through matrimonial middlemen without waiting for the aid or consent of either of the parties involved). i have never in my life seen such a box of matches in america. not in a hundred boxes at home would you find so many splinters without heads, so many defective matches. and in turning out the boxes themselves, i am told that it takes five or six hands to equal the product of one skilled foreign laborer. "it takes two or three japanese servants to do the work of one white servant" is the general verdict of housekeepers, while it has also been brought to my { } attention that in shops two or three clerks are required to do the work of one at home. a japanese newspaper man (his paper is printed in english) tells me that linotype compositors set only half as many ems per hour as in america. in short, the general verdict as i have found it is indicated by what i have written, and the most enthusiastic advocate of japanese cheap labor, the captain of the steamer on which i came from america, rather spoiled his enthusiasm for getting his ship coaled at nagasaki for - / cents a ton, by acknowledging that if it rained he should have to keep his ship waiting a day to get sufficient hands. moreover, while the japanese factory workers are forced into longer hours than labor anywhere else--eleven hours at night this week, eleven hours in the day next week--i am convinced that the people as a whole are more than ordinarily averse to steady, hard, uninterrupted toil. "we have a streak of the malay in us," as a japanese professor said to me, "and we like to idle now and then. the truth is our people are not workers; they are artists, and artists must not be hurried." certainly in the hurried production of the factory the japanese artistic taste seems to break down almost beyond redemption, and the people seem unable to carry their habits of neatness and carefulness into the new environment of european machinery. "take the tokyo street cars," said an ex-cabinet officer to me; "the wheels are seldom or never cleaned or oiled, and are half eaten by rust." the railroads are but poorly kept up; the telephones exhaust your patience; while in the case of telegraphing, your exasperation is likely to lose itself in amazed amusement. a few days ago, for example, i sent a telegram from osaka to kobe, took my rickshaw across town, waited for a slow train to start, and then reached kobe and the street destination of my message before it did. in considering the failure of japanese labor to bring forth a satisfactory output, however, one thing more should be said, and that is that we should not put the blame wholly on the { } wage-earner. not a small proportion of the responsibility lies at the door of inexpert managers. the family system of production has not only been the rule for generations with that minority of the people not engaged in farming, but it is still the dominant type of japanese industry, and it will take time even to provide opportunities for training a sufficient corps of superintendents in the larger lines of production. in further illustration of my argument that cheap labor is not proving so abnormally profitable, i may question whether japanese factories have paid as good dividends, in proportion to prevailing rates of interest on money, as factories in england and america. baron shibusawa, the dean of japanese financiers and one of the pioneers in cotton manufacturing, is my authority for the statement that per cent, would be a rather high estimate of the average rate of dividend, while figures furnished by the department of finance show that for ten years the average rate of interest on loans has been . per cent. the fact that western ideas as to japan's recent industrial advance have been greatly exaggerated may also be demonstrated just here. while the latest government figures show that in twelve years the number of female factory operatives increased from , to , and male factory operatives from , to , , it is plain that a manufacturing population of , in a country of , , souls is small, and the actual progress has not been so great as the relative figures would indicate. moreover, many so-called "factories" employ less than ten persons and would not be called factories at all in england or america. the absence of iron deposits is a great handicap, the one steel foundry being operated by the government at a heavy loss, and in cotton manufacturing, where "cheap labor" is supposed to be most advantageous, no very remarkable advance has been made in the last decade. from to english manufacturers so increased their trade that in the latter year they imported $ worth of raw { } cotton for every $ worth imported ten years before, while japan in imported only $ worth for each $ worth a decade previous--though of course she made this cotton into higher grade products. iii it must also be remembered that the wages of labor in japan are steadily increasing and will continue to increase. more significant than the fact of the low cost per day, to which i have already given attention, is the fact that these wages represent an average increase per trade of per cent, above the wages eight years previous. the new "financial and economic annual" shows the rate of wages of forty-six classes of labor for a period of eight years. for not one line of labor is a decrease of wages shown, and for only two an increase of less than per cent.; sixteen show increases between and per cent., seventeen between and per cent., eight from to per cent., three from to per cent., while significantly enough the greatest increase, per cent., is for female servants, a fact largely due to factory competition. in osaka the british vice-consul gave me the figures for the latest three-year period for which figures have been published, indicating in these thirty-six months a per cent. gain in the wages of men in the factories and a per cent, gain in the wages of women. of no small significance in any study of japanese industry must also be the fact that there are in japan proper a full half million fewer women than men ( figures: men, , , ; women, , , )--a condition the reverse of that obtaining in almost every other country. now the young japanese are a very home-loving folk, and even if they were not, almost all shinto parents, realizing the paramount importance of having descendants to worship their spirits, favor and arrange early marriages for their sons. and what with this competition for { } wives, the undiminished demand for female servants, and a half million fewer women than men to draw from, the outlook for any great expansion of manufacturing based on woman labor is not very bright. moreover, with mrs. housekeeper increasing her frantic bids for servants per cent, in eight years, and still mourning that they are not to be had, it is plain that the manufacturer has serious competition from this quarter, to say nothing of the further fact that the japanese girls are for the first time becoming well educated and are therefore likely to be in steadily increasing demand as office-workers. upon this general subject the head of one of osaka's leading factories said to me: "i am now employing women, but if i wished to enlarge my mill at once and employ , it would be impossible for me to get the labor, though i might increase to this figure by adding a few hundred each year for several years." unquestionably, too, shorter hours, less night work, weekly holidays, and better sanitary conditions must be adopted by most manufacturers if they are to continue to get labor. the kobe _chronicle_ quotes mr. kudota, of the sanitary bureau, as saying that "most of the women workers are compelled to leave the factories on account of their constitutions being wrecked" after two or three years of night work, consumption numbering its victims among them by the thousands. either the mills must give better food and lodging than they now provide or else they must pay higher wages directly which will enable the laborers to make better provision for themselves. yet another reason why wages must continue to advance is the steady increase in cost of living, due partly to the higher standard developed through education and contact with western civilization, but perhaps even more largely to the fearful burden of taxation under which the people are staggering. a usual estimate of the tax rate is per cent. of one's income, while mr. wakatsuki, late japanese financial commissioner to london, is quoted as authority for the statement { } that the people now pay in direct and indirect taxes, per cent, of their incomes. and i doubt whether even this estimate includes the increased amounts that citizens are forced to pay for salt and tobacco as a result of the government monopoly in these products, or the greatly increased prices of sugar resulting from the government's paternalistic efforts to guarantee prosperity to sugar manufacturers in formosa. iv higher still, and higher far than anything the nation has ever yet known, must go the cost of living under the new tariff law. from a british textile representative i learned the other day that a grade of english woollens largely used by the japanese for underwear will cost over one third more under the new tariff, while the increased duty on certain other lines of goods is indicated by the table herewith: percentage of duty to cost of article old tariff new tariff printed goods white lawns shirtings cotton italians poplins brocades neither a nation nor an individual can lift itself by its bootstraps. the majority of the thoughtful people in the empire seem to me to realize even now that through the new tariff japanese industry, as a whole, is likely to lose much more by lessened ability to compete in foreign markets than it will gain by shackled competition in the home markets. farseeing old count okuma, once premier, and one of the empire's elder statesmen, seemed to realize this more fully than any other man i have seen. "within two or three years from the time the new law goes into force," he declared, "i am { } confident that its injurious effects will be so apparent that the people will force its repeal. with our heavy taxes the margin of wages left for comfort is already small, and with the cost of living further increased by the new tariff, wages must inevitably advance. this will increase the cost of our manufactured products, now exported mostly to china, india, and other countries requiring cheap or low-grade goods, and where we must face the competition of the foremost industrial nations of the world. as our cost of production increases, our competition with europe will become steadily more difficult and a decrease in our exports will surely follow. it is folly for one small island to try to produce everything it needs. the tariff on iron, for example, can only hamper every new industry by increasing the cost of machinery, and must especially hinder navigation and shipbuilding, in which we have made such progress." not a few of the country's foremost vernacular dailies are as outspoken as count okuma on this point, and the kobe _chronicle_ declares that, with diminished exports to japan, "british manufacturers will find compensation in the lessened ability of the japanese to compete in china; and japan will find that she has raised prices against herself and damaged her own efficiency." that such will be the net result of japan's new policy seems to me to admit of no question. unfortunately, certain special lines of british and american manufacture may suffer, but, on the whole, what the white man's trade loses in japan will be recompensed for in china and india. even after japan's adoption of the moderately protective tariff of her export of yarns to china--in the much discussed "market right at her doors"--dropped from a product of , bales to a recent average of , bales. from to , according to the latest published government figures, the number of employees in japanese cotton factories increased only --one third of per cent.--or from , to , , to be exact, while i have already alluded to the figures showing the { } comparative english and japanese imports of raw cotton from to as furnished me by mr. robert young, of kobe, japan in this period going from $ , , to $ , , , or per cent., while england's advance was from $ , , to $ , , , or per cent. the increase in england's case, of course, was largely, and in japan's case almost wholly, due to the increased price of the cotton itself, but the figures are none the less useful for the purposes of comparison. in the frequent attempts of the japanese government to stimulate special industries by subsidies and special privileges there is, it seems to me, equally as little danger to the trade of europe and america in general (though here, too, special industries may suffer now and then), because japan is in this way simply handicapping herself for effective industrial growth. just at this writing we have an illustration in the case of the formosan sugar subsidy which seems to have developed into a veritable frankenstein; or, to use a homelier figure, the government seems to be in the position of the man who had the bear by the tail, with equal danger in holding on or letting go. already, as a result of the system of subsidies, bounties and special privileges, individual initiative has been discouraged, a dangerous and corrupting alliance of government with business developed, public morals debased (as was strikingly brought out in the dai nippon sugar scandal), and the people, as mr. sasano, of the foreign department, complains, now "rely on the help of the government on all occasions." on the same point the tokyo _keizai_ declares that "the habit of looking to the government for assistance in all and everything, oblivious of independent enterprise . . . has now grown to the chronic stage, and unless it is cured the health and vitality of the nation will ultimately be sapped and undermined." as for increasing complaints of "low commercial morality" brought against japanese merchants, that is not a matter of concern in this discussion, except in so far as it may prove a form of japanese commercial suicide. but to one who holds { } the view, as i do, that the community of nations is enriched by every worthy industrial and moral advance on the part of any nation, it is gratifying to find the general alarm over the present undoubtedly serious conditions, and it is to be hoped that the efforts of the authorities will result in an early change to better methods. v such is a brief review of the salient features of present-day japanese industry, and in no point do i find any material menace to the general well-being of american and european trade. it is my opinion that the japanese will steadily develop industrial efficiency, but that in the future no more than in the present will japan menace european and american industry (unless she is permitted to take unfair advantages in manchuria, korea, etc.), for just in proportion as efficiency increases, just in the same proportion, broadly speaking, wages and standards of living will advance. the three--efficiency, wages, cost of living--seem destined to go hand in hand, and this has certainly been the experience thus far. and whatever loss we may suffer by reason of japan gradually supplanting us in certain cruder forms of production should be abundantly compensated for in the better market for our own higher-grade goods that we shall find among a people of increasing wealth and steadily advancing standards of living. in any fair contest for the world's trade there seems little reason to fear any disastrous competition from japan. perhaps she has been allowed to make the contest unfair in manchuria or elsewhere, but that, as mr. kipling would say, is another story. kobe, japan. { } vi buddhism, shintoism, and christianity in japan one of the most fascinating places in all japan is kyoto, the old capital of the empire, and one of its most picturesque and historic cities. without great factories such as osaka boasts of, without the political importance of tokyo, and without shipping advantages such as have made kobe and yokahoma famous, kyoto is noted rather for conserving the life of old japan. here are the family industries, the handicrafts, and a hundred little arts in which the land of the rising sun excels. little themselves in stature, the people of japan are best in dealing with little things requiring daintiness, finish, and artistic taste. some one has said that their art is "great in little things and little in great things," and unlike many epigrams, it is as true as it is terse. a traveler gets the impression that most of their shops, or "stores," as we say in america, are for selling bric-a-brac, toys, lacquer ware, bronzes, or ornamental things of one kind or another; but perhaps this is largely because they give an artistic or ornamental appearance to a thousand utensils and household articles which in america would be raw and plain in their obvious practicality. the room in which i write is a fine illustration of this: finished in natural, unpainted woods, entirely without "fussiness" or show, and yet with certain touches and bits of wood carving that make it a work of art. upon this point i must again quote lafcadio hearn, whose { } books, although often more poetic and laudatory than accurate, are nevertheless too valuable to be neglected by any student of japan: "it has been said that in a greek city of the fourth century before christ every household utensil, even the most trifling object, was in respect of design an object of art; and the same fact is true, though in another and stranger way, of all things in a japanese home; even such articles of common use as a bronze candlestick, a brass lamp, an iron kettle, a paper lantern, a bamboo curtain, a wooden tray, will reveal to educated eyes a sense of beauty and fitness entirely unknown to western cheap production." like most old japanese cities, kyoto is proud of its temples, buddhist and shinto. and perhaps i should explain just here the difference between these two faiths that were long merged into one, but have been dissociated since the restoration of the emperor to his old-time powers forty years ago. shinto is the ancient japanese system of ancestor-worship, with its doctrine of the divine descent of the mikado from the sun-goddess and its requirement that every faithful adherent make daily offerings to the spirits of the family's ancestors. with the future life or with moral precepts for this life it does not concern itself. "obey the emperor and follow your own instincts," is the gist of the shinto religion, in so far as it may be called a religion at all: the tendency is to consider it only a form of patriotism and not a religion. buddhism, on the other hand, is an elaborate system of theology comprising a great variety of creeds, and insisting upon much ecclesiastical form and ceremony, however little it may have to do with practical morals. "the fact is, we japanese have never gotten our morals from our religion," said one quasi-buddhist newspaper man to me in tokyo. "what moral ideas we have came neither from shintoism nor buddhism, but largely from confucius and the chinese classics." buddhism as it left india may have been a rather exalted religious theory, but if so, then in japan it has certainly { } degenerated into a shameless mockery of its former self. to read sir edwin arnold's glorification of theoretical buddhism in his "light of asia," and then see practical buddhism in japan with all its superstitions and idolatries, is very much like hearing bewitched titania's praise of her lover's beauty and then turning to see the long ears and hairy features of the ass that he has become. nor is it without significance that sir edwin arnold himself coming to buddhist japan dropped into open and flagrant immoralities such as a christian community would never have tolerated, while the foremost american-bred apologists for buddhism here have been but little better. one of the greatest and wealthiest temples in kyoto is more notorious right now for the vices of its sacred (?) officials than for any virtues in its creed, and one of the high priests, like the emperor himself, has a dozen or more women in his household. some buddhists are making an earnest effort to bring about at least an outward reformation of their organization, but the difficulties are such as to make the success of the undertaking very improbable. with the usual japanese quality of imitativeness they have started "young men's buddhist associations," "sunday schools," etc., and are also beginning to follow the example set by the christians of participating in philanthropic and charitable work. in the buddhist service i attended last sunday the gorgeously robed priest sat on a raised altar in the centre of the room, with other priests ranged about him, and the general service, as usual, was much as if they had copied the catholic ritual. after the buddhist ceremonies, i went to the christian service at the congregational school, or doshisha, where the sound of the american-born minister's voice was punctuated by the street sounds of whirring rickshaw wheels and the noisy getas of passing buddhists, while outside the window i could see the bamboo trees and the now familiar red disk and white border of the mikado's flag. prayer was offered for { } "the president of the united states, the king of great britain, the emperor of germany, and the emperor of japan." at night i was even more interested, even though i could not understand a word, in a native japanese service i attended for half an hour. although there was a downpour of rain the chapel was comfortably filled and the faces of the worshippers, i thought, were of more than ordinary intelligence and promise, while their sincerity is illustrated by the fact that numbers of the women christians are actually depriving themselves of suitable food in order to give money for erecting a larger church building. the next evening i took tea with a missionary who has in his home one of the public notices (dated march, ,) and common throughout the empire forty odd years ago, prohibiting christianity, the ancient penalty being nothing less than death itself. the explanation of this notice is found in a bit of history. three hundred and sixty years ago the catholics came here, started missions, and made many converts among the lords or daimyios, who ordered their followers also to become catholics, with the result that by the time of the first english settlement at jamestown, in , there were from , to , , christians, nominal and actual, away over here in japan. seven years later, however, government persecution began, christianity was put under the ban, and so remained until eight years after our civil war ended. many christians suffered martyrdom for their faith in this long period; and a few who escaped detection even secretly handed their faith down from father to son through all the long generations until tolerance came again. dr. a. d. hail, of osaka, tells me that even as late as an old man from the "backwoods," as we should say, came to a village where dr. hail's brother was a missionary, discovered for the first time that a man might be a christian without being punished, and then confessed that each day he had worshipped secretly at a little catholic shrine hidden in { } his wall, as his father and his father's father had done before him. as another illustration of the changed attitude toward christianity, i may mention that a japanese buddhist once came to doctor hail's services armed with a dagger to kill the preacher, but had his attention caught by the sermon while waiting his chance and is now a missionary himself! perhaps in no other respect is christianity working a greater change than in the general estimate of woman, although this is an objection the natives openly urge against christianity. just as in any conflict of interest the family in japan has been everything and the individual nothing, so in every disagreement between husband and wife his opinions count for everything, hers for nothing. the orthodox and traditional japanese view as to a woman's place has been very accurately and none too strongly set forth by the celebrated japanese moralist, kaibarra, writing on "the whole duty of woman": "the great lifelong duty of a woman is obedience. . . . should her husband be roused at any time to anger, she must obey him with fear and trembling, and never set herself up against him in anger and forwardness. a woman should look on her husband as if he were heaven itself and never weary of thinking how she may yield to her husband, and thus escape celestial castigation." similarly, in the "greater learning for women" it is declared: "the five worst maladies that afflict the female mind are indocility, discontent, slander, jealousy and silliness. these five maladies infest seven or eight out of every ten women, and it is from these that arises the inferiority of women to men." { } [illustration: the great buddha (diabutsu) at kamakura.] this gigantic figure of buddha (a man's head would barely reach the statue's feet) singularly expresses the spirit of serene contemplation for which the buddhist religion stands; is indeed, hauntingly suggestive of that dreamy nirvana which it teaches is the goal of existence. there is perhaps no finer piece of statuary in the east than this. { } [illustration: the degenerate koreans at rest and at work.] the favorite occupation is smoking, but in the lower picture three men together are managing to operate one spade. one man rams it into the ground, and the other two (by means of ropes attached) jerk out the shovelful of earth! { continued} the wife of the missionary i visited in osaka told me one or two amusing incidents--amusing in one aspect and pathetic in another--that are of interest in this connection. a japanese member of her church declared: no, no, mrs. { } "hail, you can't ever make me believe that my wife is as good as i am!" on another occasion she was teaching a sunday-school class concerning the woman of samaria, and asked: "why did jesus ask the woman to call her husband?" and the japanese answer was: "because he was going to talk on intellectual things and she needed some man to help her understand!" dr. sidney gulick, with whom i had tea in kyoto, tells of tying his wife's shoes on the street, on one occasion, only to find the japanese amazed that a man should so humble himself. his wife's taking his arm in walking was also regarded as the height of impropriety! no religion of the far east has ever recognized the dignity of woman, probably because no religion has ever recognized the worth of the individual. just as i have said, that in the old days, and almost as largely to-day, in the relations of the home, it was the family that counted and not the individual, so in his relations to the larger world beyond the individual formerly counted for nothing when weighed against the wishes of the superior classes. in the earliest days, when the lord died, a number of his subjects were buried with him to wait upon his spirit in the beyond. later, with the same object in view, wives and servants committed suicide on the death of the master. even now it is regarded as honorable for a girl to sell herself into shame to save the family from want. the same antipodal difference between east and west--here "the family is the social unit" and with us the individual himself--explains the system of adoption: a younger son not being essential to the maintenance of the family cult may be adopted into another family, while the eldest son may not. on the same principle the father rules, not because of what he represents as an individual, but because he represents the family. whenever he chooses, he abdicates, and must then join his other children in obeying the eldest son. in the relations of citizenship the same disregard of { } individual rights was the ancient rule, not merely in the fact that for centuries the smallest details of everyday life were regulated by law, but more seriously in that the samurai, or privileged class, might "cut down in cold blood a beggar, a merchant, or a farmer on the slightest provocation, or simply for the purpose of testing his sword," while in case of the ruin of their cause it was the honorable and natural thing for soldiers to commit "hari-kiri"--that is to say, commit suicide by disemboweling themselves. a japanese writer recently declared that "the value of the individual life is an illustration of the christian spirit" that is profoundly influencing japan, and he mentioned as an example that formerly suicide, in such circumstances as i have mentioned, "was regarded as an honorable act; now it is regarded as a sin." without professing the religion of fatalism which so influences the peoples of the nearer east, the japanese soldiers behave like fatalists because the fundamental basis of the social order for centuries has been the necessity of the individual to sacrifice pleasure, comfort, or life itself when required either by the family or by the social order. and this partially explains why it is said in sober earnest that the highest ambition of most japanese schoolboys to-day is to die for their emperor. --- this is my last letter from japan, and my next letter will be from korea--if the cholera doesn't get me. it has been raging in osaka and in kobe, both of which cities i have thought it necessary to visit in order to get first-hand information about industrial conditions. ordinarily, the cholera victim lives only a few hours. the first day's record here in kobe, i believe, showed six cases and five deaths. gradually, however, cholera is being stamped out, just as we have eradicated yellow fever in cuba and the south, and just as we shall eventually come to recognize the prevalence of typhoid in any town as a disgrace--an evidence of primitive and uncivilized { } sanitary conditions. a friend of mine who came to osaka in tells me that there were , cholera victims in that one city that year--the yellow flag on almost every street, and all through the night the sound of men hurrying past with new victims for the hospitals or with new corpses for the burning. in the thirteen years - more than , japanese died of the scourge. i regret to say good-by to japan. it is a tremendously interesting country. for just as america represents the ultimate type of occidental civilization, so does japan represent the ultimate type of oriental civilization. more than this, it is here that the full tides of oriental and occidental life are now meeting for the first time in human history. for centuries uncounted the yellow man advanced across the plains and peaks of asia, finding at last in these outlying islands his farthermost outpost, and so tarried here in the farthest east, "the land of the rising sun." he hardly thought of the existence of a west, but if his buddha-like composure had been ruffled by such a thought, he might have droned monotonously: "oh, east is east, and west is west, and never the twain shall meet." but while the yellow man had thus moved steadily eastward, the white man, starting from the land of the euphrates, had pitched his camp, with each succeeding generation, nearer and nearer the setting sun. greece--rome--spain--france--england--then four hundred years ago, more restless than the mongolian, the white man dared the seas that hemmed him in and found a new continent to people. westward still the course of empire then continued until in our time the white man planted his civilization on the pacific coast. there was no more west. then it was, as if in obedience to a cosmic, racial instinct deeper than reason, the white man sent his messengers across the new-found ocean and awakened the sleepy world { } of the yellow man by the booming of perry's guns off yokahoma. the kingdom of heaven, we are told, cometh not with observation, and the deeper meaning of the greatest events in human history may often escape the attention of contemporaries. my father and yours, perhaps, heard little and thought less of perry's exploit, and yet it marked not merely a new historical epoch, but a new act in the long drama of human evolution itself. curious, too, it is to observe how the strange world-destiny that shapes our ends gave to it a stage-setting in keeping with its dramatic significance. not to england, nor to any other great naval and commercial power of the time, but to the young united states--the nation that had found the ultimate west--came the unlikely but strangely fitting task of opening the farthest east to western trade and thought. when at last the world has grown old and nations and empires not yet formed shall themselves have gone the mortal way common alike to human creatures and human creations, i think the far historian will record few events either more dramatic or more pregnant with undreamed-of meaning than perry's entrance into japanese waters just five years after the discovery of gold in california had ended the world-old drama of our westward march. so to-day, as i have said, the full tides of orient and occident have rushed together in japan, and it is not merely a land of curious customs and strange phenomena, but a land in which the contrasts exist side by side, and most interesting of all, a land of strangely mingling social and industrial currents. east and west have met, and we wait to see what forces in each shall prevail when the shock of their fierce encounter shall have passed. for it is not merely japan, but all asia, whose future may be affected by the outcome of the new, tense struggle here between the ideals of west and east. as on the streets of tokyo and yokahoma the japanese { } in european dress jostles his brother in native garb, as streams of men in coats and trousers and shoes mingle with men wearing kimonas, hikamas, and getas, so in the minds of the people the teachings of modern science and confucian classic meet; the faith of the christian grapples with the faith of the buddhist; the masterful aspirations of western civilization surge against the old placidity of the east. what shall be the outcome? upon nothing else, it seems to me, depends so much as upon the religious foundation upon which japan seeks to build the structure of her newer and richer life. many of her people, if i may change the figure, are seeking to put the new wine of christian civilization into the old bottles of shinto and buddhist ritualism. that this must fail is, i think, self-evident. many others, like the iconoclasts of the french revolution, would sweep away all religion, but they will find that they are fighting against an ineradicable instinct of human nature, the innate craving of the divine in man. in my own brief stay in japan i have seen enough to convince me of the truth of both the foregoing observations. i confess that i came to the country with a distinct doubt as to the wisdom of stressing mission work here--came thinking the field less promising then elsewhere. but i go away with no such feeling. what i have seen and heard has dispelled my doubts. speaking simply as a journalist and a student of social and industrial conditions, i believe that to-day japan needs nothing more than christian missionaries--men who are willing to forget dogma and tradition and creedal differences in emphasizing the fundamental teachings of christ himself, and who have education, sympathy, and vision to fit them for the stupendous task of helping mold a new and composite type of human civilization, a type which may ultimately make conquest of the whole oriental half of our human race. kobe, japan. { } vii korea: "the land of the morning calm" i have become a contemporary of david and the patriarchs of israel. in the civilization into which i have come science and invention are in swaddling clothes, the pyramids are yet young, the great nations of western europe still in the womb of time. this at least is how i have felt now that, having left japan, i am travelling through korea, "the land of the morning calm"--or "chosen," as the japanese will call it hereafter--whose authentic recorded history runs back into the twelfth century before the christian era, and whose general features must have changed but little in all this time. a typical korean view of the present year might well be photographed to illustrate a sunday-school lesson from the old testament. the men in the fields i have seen plow with bullocks harnessed in the primitive fashion of the earliest civilization. their plow stocks are of wood rough-hewn from their native forest trees, the plowman here never standing between the "plow-handles," as we say, because there is only one handle and that little better than a stick of firewood. with sickles equally primitive i have seen men cutting the ripe rice in the fields; with flails, beating out their grain. their houses, hardly high enough to stand up in, are little more than four square rock walls with roofs of straw, over which pumpkin vines clamber or on which immense quantities of red pepper are drying in the autumn sun. nor would the dress of the people--everybody { } in white (or what was once white) garments--have seemed strange in ancient judea. there is also the same mixture of plains and peaks as bible pictures of the holy land have made familiar, and at night, as october's hunters' moon glorifies all the landscape, a faint light gleaming here and there from an opening in the rock huts, and with arcturus and the pleiades of job in the sky, it has seemed almost sacrilege to mar the ancient environment by such an anachronism as a modern railway locomotive. rather, in looking out over the picturesque mountains and valleys and sniffing the cool, dry air, you feel "the call of the wild" in your blood. across long centuries the life of your far-gone nomadic ancestors calls to you. almost irresistibly you are moved to take a human friend and a friendly horse or pony and pitch your camp out under the great stars--larger and brighter indeed do they seem to burn here in the orient--and feel the dew on your face as you awaken in the "morning calm" of the ancient hermit kingdom, whose feeble life was snuffed out, like the flame of a burnt-down candle, but a few short months ago. as i came into seoul three nights ago i found it hardly less fascinating than the country through which i had travelled during the day. through ancient streets, unlit by any electric glare, strangely robed, almost spirit-like white figures were gliding here and there in the moonlight, singly or in groups, and but a few minutes' ride in our rickshaws brought us to the old south gate. great monument of a dead era is it, relic of the days when seoul trusted to its ten miles of massive stone walls (already a century old when columbus set sail from palos) to keep out the war-like mongol and tartar. in japan i found a different world from that which i had known, but a world in which east and west were strangely mingled: much of the familiar with the unfamiliar. here in korea, on the contrary, i have found the real east, the asia of romance, of tradition and of fable, almost untouched by { } western influences--dirty, squalid, unprogressive, and yet with a fascination all its own. great bare mountains look down on the capital city, the old city-wall climbing their steep sides, and the historic han flows through an adjacent valley. the thatched or tiled roofs of the houses are but little higher than one's head, and i shall never forget what a towering skyscraper effect is produced by a photographer's little two-story studio building on the main street of the city. practically every other building is but little higher and not greatly larger as a rule, than the pens in which our american farmers fatten hogs in the fall. most american merchants would expect to make more in a day than the average white-robed, easy-going seoul merchant has in stock, but he smokes his long-stemmed pipe in peaceful contemplation of the world and doesn't worry. there are no sidewalks in seoul, of course, although it has been for five centuries (until now) the capital of a kingdom, and a quarter of a million people call the city their home; no carriages or buggies, no sewerage, and but few horses. there are miserable little overloaded ponies that the average farmer would feel that he could pitch single-handed into his barn-loft, but the burden-carriers are mostly bulls that are really magnificent in appearance, both oxen and ponies carrying loads on their backs that an american would expect to crush them. the customs are odd indeed. men wear enormous straw hats as a badge of mourning, but the usual style of head-dress is to shave the extreme summit of the head, while the rest of the hair grows long and is braided up in a sort of topknot with a little bird-cage hat above it. this hat is then tied under the chin as an american woman would tie hers. girls are but little seen on the streets, custom requiring them to stay indoors before marriage, and the married women, when on the street are likely to wear a sort of green wrap thrown over their heads and shoulders that leaves only their eyes and contiguous facial territory exposed. the tourist is at first { } inclined to think that there are many young girls on the streets, but this is because the boys dress as we have grown used to seeing girls dress in america. take the young boy who waits on my table: fair of feature in his neat white dress, and with a long glossy hair-plait hanging down his back, you would think him some fair korean maiden. when he gets married a little later, probably at seventeen or eighteen, he will shave his head (not necessarily as a sign of mourning!) and wear his hair thereafter in the manner described in the preceding paragraph. an english missionary-doctor's pretty daughter here yesterday (and how pretty an english or american girl does look in this far land!) told me that a korean girl of twenty or twenty-one is regarded as a rather desperate old maid, and the go-betweens, who arrange the marriages here as they do in japan, are likely to charge a rather steep sum for getting a husband for one so far advanced in spinsterhood! the chances are that the groom doesn't see his bride until the ceremony, and she doesn't even see him then, for according to the curious custom here the bride's eyes are sealed up until late afternoon of her wedding day. more than this, custom requires that the bride must keep absolutely unbroken silence all the day long, and for a varying length of time thereafter. mrs. bishop in her book on korea asserts that "it may be a week or several months before the husband knows the sound of his wife's voice,"--and the nature of the dear creatures in america will of course insure the ready acceptance of her statement! the go-betweens are often not very scrupulous, and for good fees sometimes manage to palm off damsels of unsatisfactory features on unsuspecting swains, or match undesirable young fellows with girls vastly superior to them. a rather amusing instance was reported to me by the young lady from whom i have just quoted. one of the officials or noblemen in seoul had a daughter whom the go-between was preparing to marry off into a family of rank in another city. a few days before the wedding-day-set-to-be, some one came to { } the father of the bride and said: "did you know that your prospective son-in-law has a hare-lip?" now a hare-lip in korea is not merely such an undesirable addition to one's countenance as to make a mrs. wiggs happy because of being without it, but under the old dispensation no one with a harelip, or other like facial blemish, could be presented at court and thereby introduced into the four hundred of this capital city. therefore the father waxed thoughtful from his topknot to the end of his long-stem pipe. "i tell you what i'll do," he finally said to his wife. "we'll go ahead with the ceremony, but instead of my daughter i'll substitute my orphan niece." and he did, and the young fellow didn't know any better for a week. fortunately, however, my story doesn't end here. i am extremely glad to add the usual "lived-happily-ever-after" peroration, for that was really what happened in this case. the father of my young lady informant, who is a doctor, sewed up the young fellow's lip, he was presented at court, and the real daughter who so narrowly escaped marrying may be an old maid, for all i know. in such a high, dry climate as this one would expect to find little tuberculosis, but i am told that there is really a great deal of it, due to the carelessness of the families where there are victims, and to the generally unsanitary conditions. a daughter of one of the southern missionaries here, having contracted the malady, has just gone to arizona in search of cure. everywhere on the streets i encounter faces marked by smallpox, and formerly to have had the disease was the rule rather than the exception. in fact, instead of alluding to a man's inexperience by saying "he hasn't cut his eye teeth," as we do, a korean would say: "he hasn't had smallpox." since vaccination became the rule, however, there are very few cases. infant mortality here, as in america, is one of the greatest factors in the high death-rate, but conditions are improving. { } and so long as authorities declare that in america half the infant death-rate is due to ignorance or neglect, we haven't much right to point a scornful finger at korea, anyhow. i have already alluded to the fact that the old monarchial government of korea ended its inglorious career but a few short months ago. while the records of the nation run back more than three thousand years--probably to a period when job was so superbly reproaching his comforters in the land of uz--the late dynasty runs back only years. we americans, i may say in passing, are accustomed to think of men of five hundred years ago, or even of john smith and pocahontas, as very ancient, but a pedigree of only five hundred years wouldn't entitle a family to enter good society over here. but though only five hundred years in power, this recent dynasty succeeded in doing about as much devilment and as little good as many dynasties much older in years. one of the missionaries explained to me yesterday that it was only when the king got very mad that he would order heads cut off without reason--but then the koreans are very lazy and his inactivity at other periods may have been due to sloth. the truth is, that most of these oriental monarchies have been corrupt beyond the belief of the average american. when i was a boy i used to hear the old men in country churches thank god for the blessings of orderly government and for the privilege of worshipping as they chose, "with no one to molest us or make us afraid." as a rule, we take such things as matters of course, but when one comes over here into asia and into countries where the people have been cursed by corrupt governments, where innocent lives have been taken upon the mere whim of the government, where property has been confiscated with no better reason, and where men have had to die for their faiths:--when he, in short, comes into lands where the rights of neither life, property nor conscience have been respected, he is likely to prize his american privileges somewhat more highly. { } the old korean dynasty was not only corrupt, but unspeakably stupid. like the people, the king relied on sorcerers or fortune-tellers to find a lucky day or a lucky time of the moon to do whatever he wished, and in case of sickness consulted the mutang, or conjurer, instead of a doctor. thus when the prince had smallpox some years ago, the mutang declared that the smallpox spirit or devil (who must always be referred to with great respect as "his excellency") would not leave unless allowed to ride horseback clear to the korean boundary, three hundred miles away; and a gayly caparisoned horse was accordingly led the entire distance for his excellency, the smallpox spirit, to ride away on! the government was also unfeignedly corrupt. offices were given, just as lives were taken merely at the whim of the throne. taxes were farmed out, the grafting collectors taking from the people probably five or six times as much as finally reached the public treasury. more than this, the nobility robbed the people at will, and there was no authority from whom they could get redress. woe unto the man who became energetic and industrious under the old dispensation! first, the tax-gatherers would relieve him of the bulk of his swollen fortune, and what was left the noble or "yang-ban," as a noble was called, would take the trouble to borrow but never take the trouble to repay. for the yang-ban was a "gentleman," he was. it was beneath his dignity to work--even to guide the reins of the horse he rode--but it was not beneath his dignity to sponge on his friends (i think the verb "to sponge" is too expressive to remain slang) or to borrow without repaying. moreover, in case of extremity, it is said that mother yang-ban and sister ann might take in washing, as is recorded in the classic lays of our own land, but father never defiled himself by doing anything so dishonorable as an honest day's work. but alas and alack! for the degeneracy of our times. the yang-bans in korea have been deprived of their ancient { } privileges, and i fear that even their fellows in america are by no means treated with the ancient deference and respect due to persons of such exalted merit and blue-blood. what with the arbitrary and oppressive system of tax-robbery and the extortions of the yang-bans it is not surprising that the koreans here became disinclined to labor, while those who went to manchuria, where there has been "proper security for the gains of industry" are said to be quite a different folk--energetic because there has been encouragement to be energetic. the old korean system of taxation being arbitrary, the only way to escape a raid by the tax-gatherer was to appear not to have anything worth raiding, and with the coinage confined usually to the copper "cash" (each "cash" worth a small fraction of a cent), it was difficult for a man to have much money without everybody knowing it. if a man had much he needed a warehouse to store it in. mrs. bishop in her book, already referred to, speaks of a time when it took "cash" to equal a dollar in our money, making each coin worth - of a cent, and it took six men or one pony to carry $ worth of coin! another instance is mentioned in the japanese official year book on korea. the japanese army bought $ worth of timber in the interior, where the people were not used to any other currency, with the result that "the army had to charter a small steamer and fill her completely with this copper cash to finance the transaction!" i bought a few long, necklace-like strings of this old korean money at ten cents a string, and even then probably paid too much. when i bought my ticket for korea it was nominally an independent monarchy under a japanese "protectorate," but the day before i sailed from san francisco, japanese aggression took another step and the country was formally annexed as a part of the japanese empire. there is little doubt, i suppose, that the japanese will give the koreans better government than the old monarchy gave them, but one { } cannot excuse all the methods by which japan fastened her rule on the island. yesterday morning i went out to the old north palace, a deserted and melancholy memorial of vanished power, stood on the throne where korean kings once held audience, and saw the royal dwelling in which the japanese and their aids killed the queen in , and also saw the place where they burned her body. the japanese minister at that time was recalled and placed on trial for the offence, and, though he escaped conviction, the evidence of his guilt was undoubted. it has been estimated that in about eighteen months in -' , " , koreans, called 'insurgents' by the japanese and patriots by their fellow countrymen, were killed by the mikado's soldiers and gendarmes, only of whom lost their lives." this looks more like butchery than war. moreover, the japanese themselves have to admit that there were inexcusable delays in paying for land seized from koreans, and in view of all the circumstances it is questionable whether the korean hatred or dislike of japan will become very much less cordial than it is to-day. perhaps in no country in the world has missionary work been more successful than in korea (there are probably , protestants now, while there were only thirteen years ago), and i have been interested to learn that there is absolutely no truth in the japanese newspaper reports that immense numbers of native christians are leaving the church since annexation. on the contrary, reports from all over the country are good, and seoul itself is just now in the midst of a most thoroughgoing and successful christian revival, with conversions reported during the first ten days. at a methodist mission school i visited this morning i found that a hundred of the native pupils had been canvassing the town a part of three successive afternoons with the result that they had brought in the names of koreans expressing a desire to become christians. here in korea there is no waste of energy or money through { } denominational divisions. each denomination has its own sphere of activity, preventing duplication of effort, and my general observation has convinced me that the criticisms of foreign mission work sometimes heard in america are based on a radical misconception of conditions. even the non-christians, in the great majority of cases, speak in high praise of the splendid work of the missionaries. a typical expression is that found in the latest issue of the shanghai _national review_, now before me, which may be expected to speak impartially. referring to an address by doctor morrison, the peking correspondent of the london _times_, it says: "doctor morrison eulogized the work of the missionaries and we cannot conceive that anybody who really knows of their work at first hand, not as it is to be found in extreme cases, but as ordinarily carried on, should do otherwise than eulogize it." seoul, korea. { } viii manchuria--fair and fertile "uneasily sleeps mukden to-night"--i remember yet how one of the dispatches began which brought so vividly to my mind the meaning of the great death-grapple here between the japanese and russian hosts in . [footnote: "uneasily sleeps mukden to-night. in the main street lamps burn dimly. along dark roads in heavy dust are marching columns. the cool night is full of the low rustle of movement. near the station, in over-filled hospitals, are heard low groans. the wounded arrive in a never-ceasing stream of carts, and another stream of ambulances moves northward, for the place must be cleared for to-day's victims. the eternal pines whisper above the tombs of chinese emperors. in the fields watch fires are burning stores and evacuated villages----" and the correspondent goes on to tell of the wearied forces gathering for further fighting with the coming of dawn--men footsore and weak for want of food and water and rest. for forty-eight hours the japanese had not eaten.] the story in a nutshell is this: "after the capitulation of port arthur, oyama pressed toward mukden, where kuropatkin had established his headquarters, and there from february to march occurred probably the most desperate battle in modern history, if not in all history. about eight hundred thousand men were engaged. again oyama won, and kuropatkin retreated in fairly good order about a hundred miles north of mukden." so runs the historian's brief record of the titanic struggle five years ago in the ancient manchurian city to which i have come. what gettysburg was in our civil war, that mukden was in the first great contest between the white race and the mongolian. here covetous death for once was satisfied, his gruesome garnering seen at each wintry nightfall in the { } windrows of bloody and mangled bodies strewn along miles of snowy trenches. i have heard all sorts of war traditions in mukden: that at one time the japanese thought themselves beaten in the battle and had ordered a retreat, when, a russian force giving way, they turned quickly to press the advantage and snatched victory from what they had thought was ruin. there are many stories, too, of the inefficiency of the russian officers, stories made all the more probable in the light of the russian commander kuropatkin's memoirs to the same general effect. "why, the english would put one of their admirals against the wall and shoot him like a common seaman for such gross neglect of duty as went entirely unpunished among russian generals," was one man's comment as he talked with me. "the rooshians were good fighters--fought 'and to 'and with the butt of their muskets--and if they 'ad 'ad good commanders the japs would never have won," said an englishman who had seen service in india. a railway man also told me of the debauchery and profligacy of the russian officers, disreputable women travelling regularly with them to and fro, drunkenness being also common. about the same charges were reported to me by a japanese officer. in fact, it is said that the japanese contrived to get a very considerable quantity of champagne to the russian headquarters one day, and the next day made a slaughter-pen of the russian camp while the cossack commanders were still hopelessly befuddled from too much drinking! the truth is that the japanese, from camp-followers to commander-in-chief, were prepared for war and the russians were not. from the day that russia, aided by france and germany, forced japan to cede back to china some of the fruits of her victory over the chinese, from that hour japan nursed and fed fat her rankling grudge and bided her time as deliberately as a tiger waiting to spring. while i was in japan an englishman told me that immediately after russia forced japan { } to give up her spoils of victory he was amazed to see the tremendous interest in the military drills in all the japanese schools. when he asked what it meant, there was one frank answer: "we are getting ready to lick russia." it should also be observed that when the war came on the japanese were not only in a state of preparedness so far as battleships and army drill and munitions of war were concerned, but they were also prepared in the vital matter of proper medical attendance. "when your american soldiers went with shafter into cuba the army was utterly without proper medical corps and equipment, and the death-rate was disgracefully high. but the first japanese who fell in crossing the yalu were taken at once to the best of japanese surgeons and cared for in the most approved of modern military hospitals." so said a frank scotchman to me yesterday, and in the light of the official statistics i could say nothing in palliation of the unpleasant allusion to america. when the war with russia ended, baron takaki, surgeon-general of the japanese army, boasted that whereas in the spanish-america war "fourteen men died from preventable diseases to one man killed on the field of battle," the japanese had lost only one man from disease to every four from bullets. now the japanese, as usual, had not worked out any of the principles of medical science, sanitation, and hygiene which enabled them to make this remarkable record, but they showed their characteristic facility in taking the white man's inventions and getting as much or more--more in this case--out of them than the white man himself. the japanese record, showing in such amazing fashion what a wisely directed health organization may accomplish, is worth remembering not only in connection with plans for military efficiency, but also in connection with plans for general public health activities at home. every state should spend five times as much for this public health work as at present. in the forgetful manchurian earth bears but few traces { } of the fierce contest that only five or six years ago scarred its bosom, and the serried shocks of newly harvested corn, _kaoliang_ (sorghum) and millet--in some infrequent instances fertilized by the dead men's bones--are seen on fields where contending armies struggled. let it be so for a little while; let the manchurian peasant sow and garner in peace while he may; for still the war cloud hangs heavy above china's three eastern provinces, and in the next struggle the peasant's blood may redden his own fields. for that the fighting has not ended is to me perfectly clear. by reason of the japanese railroad monopoly through the very heart of southern manchuria, and her leased territory on the coast, japan has obtained power bordering on control, and everything goes to show that she has fully made up her mind to complete and retain that control. moreover, when one has seen the great manchurian empire, it is easy to understand how it has now roused the covetousness of japan just as the temptation a few years ago proved too strong for russia. immense farming areas are only thinly settled; some of the richest of the world's mineral resources have only been touched. a day or two ago i went out to see mr. edward c. parker, in charge of the agricultural experiment farm here (he is a minnesota man, i believe), and found him enthusiastic over his corn crop just harvested. "i have been so surprised by the growth of corn this year," he declared, "that i could hardly believe my own eyes. i have never seen finer seed ears anywhere." among american states, only iowa, he declares, is probably more fertile than manchuria; with stock-raising to prevent land-deterioration, all the vast southern section could beat illinois growing crops, and the same thing could be said of the northern country but for its colder climate. about harbin, where the south manchuria railway joins the trans-siberian line, one may see cuts thirty feet deep and the soil rich to the bottom. most of manchuria is level--strikingly like our western corn belt and wheat belt--and the { } soil is of wind-drift origin "like a great snow-blanket," very easily tilled. the plowing is done with a steel-tipped wooden beam such as i have already written of seeing in korea, and only the favoring physical texture of the soil explains the fat harvests of food, feed, and fuel achieved under such methods. it has been a positive joy to me in traveling through the country here in late october to see the great shocks of kaoliang, millet and corn (even with labor at cents a day out here, the people don't pull fodder!), quaint-looking farmhouses almost surrounded by well-stuffed barns, and corn cribs packed until the overflowing yellow ears spill out the ampler cracks. the kaoliang is a sort of sorghum, the grain being used for food, while the stalks, which contain but little sugar, are used for fuel. consequently the barnyards packed to the limit and running over with "the garnered largess of the fruitful year" not only mean feed for all the variegated animals that are used in manchurian agriculture, but fuel for the long manchurian winters as well. i even find the peasants digging up the roots and stubble to be dried and burned in the houses. one sees but a small proportion of good horses here, and practically no four-wheeled farm wagons. unlike japan, however, manchuria does have its farm vehicles: great heavy two-wheeled carts drawn by from two to eight horses, donkeys, and asses. sometimes there is a big horse or two, then one or two donkeys half the size of the horses, and a couple of little asses or burros half the size of the donkeys--and maybe a bull thrown in for good measure. it looks as if the whole blamed family of work-stock had been hitched to pull the cart. the whole blamed family is often needed, too, for the roads in china are ample proof that we needn't expect ours in america or anywhere else to get any better by letting them alone three thousand years. the chinese have tried it, and it doesn't work. the october roads are so bad in many places that if { } the carts had four wheels instead of two not even the combined aggregation in the team could pull them out of the mud. a little later, however, the roads freeze over solidly and stay so for five or six months--and then the manchurian farmers go on long, slow pilgrimages carrying their products to the larger markets--sometimes two or three hundred miles from home. the pride and glory of manchuria, the talk of its citizens, the foundation of its prosperity, the backbone of its commerce, the symbol of its wealth, is the bean--the common soja, or soy bean as we know it. what corn is to our corn belt and what cotton is to our southern states, that the bean is to manchuria: supreme among products. there is no class of people not affected by the prosperity or the adversity of his majesty the bean. bankers, merchants, farmers, even the ladies one meets in the drawing-rooms in the foreign concessions, not only "know beans," but can talk beans too. if the present rate of progress is maintained, it will not be long until no one will enumerate the world's great crops--wheat, corn, oats, rice, rye, barley, cotton, etc.--without including beans. the first beans were shipped to europe only about four years ago, and the london _times_ correspondent estimates that next year europe will take $ , , worth. in a very great measure the beans have the same properties as cottonseed, an oil being extracted that is used for much the same purposes as cottonseed oil, while the residue called "bean cake" is about the equivalent of cottonseed meal. it is somewhat superior, mr. parker says, to cottonseed meal or linseed meal as a stock feed, but is now chiefly used for fertilizing purposes. my first acquaintance with the bean cake was in japan, where i found it enriching the earth for vegetable-growing, japan importing an average of half a million tons a year to put under its crops. manchuria also uses not a little for the same purpose. the more intelligent manchurian farmers, however, are learning that it is a waste to rot one of the best cattle feeds in the { } world and get its fertilizing value only--just as our american farmers, it is gratifying to see, are at last waking up to the disgraceful folly of using cottonseed meal as a crop-producer without first getting its other value as a meat-producer. i find out, furthermore, that what old maury's geography led me to believe was a vast desert of gobi here in north china or mongolia alongside manchuria is not a genuine desert at all, but chiefly a great grass plain with golden possibilities as a cattle country. mr. parker declares that if cattle were grown on these immense ranges and brought to manchuria in the fall to be fattened off on bean cake, millet, etc., harbin, chang-chun, mukden, and other manchurian cities might soon build packing plants that would rival chicago's in bigness. this system of stock-raising would also solve the problem of maintaining soil fertility, just as it would bring relief to those sections of america where the policy of selling everything off the land and putting nothing back threatens disaster. the old ridge system of growing crops, the rows thrown up as high as the little plows will permit and the crops planted on top, is the general practice here, and mr. parker is making an effort through the experiment farm to convince the people of the advantages of level cultivation. he also wishes to introduce better plows. "the truth is," he says, "that we never had any real plows until james oliver and john deere invented theirs. all the plowing before that was merely scratch-work, and here in manchuria the plows are hardly better than those the egyptians used. but for the extremely light, ash-like, wind-drift soil the people with such crude tools could hardly make enough to subsist on." in korea i noticed some moderately fair cotton fields, and in manchuria i have also found a few patches, though the climate here is obviously too cold for its profitable production. i find that the japanese have great faith in the future of the industry in korea. this notice of manchurian farming would not be complete { } without some mention of the queer aspect of many of the cultivated fields-- thick-dotted with earth mounds, around which the rows are curved and twisted, these mounds resembling medium-sized potato hills. they contain not vegetables, however, but bones. each cone-shaped mound is a chinaman's grave. i first noticed this method of burying in korea, but the mounds are quite low there--all that i saw, at least, except the queen's tomb at seoul. here in manchuria they are about three or four feet high in most cases, and sometimes six. one of the famous sights of mukden is the peilang, or northern tomb, where old taitsun, the first great manchu emperor of china, lies buried, and the grave proper (reached after a long approach of temple buildings, magnificent gates, images, and monuments) is a huge earth mound, probably an acre in extent. the base is thrown up twenty-five or thirty feet high and surrounded by a rock wall, while the cone-shaped summit runs up about twenty feet higher. the chinese have a deep-rooted superstition as to the existence of a sort of devil or "fung-shui" in the ground, and to disturb this fung-shui may prove the direful spring of more "woes unnumbered" than the iliad records. such a fung-shui is supposed to exist under the surface of the earth about the mukden royal tombs, and, accordingly, the railroad between mukden and peking had to run twenty-five miles out of its proper course in order not to disturb it. mukden, manchuria. { } ix where japan is absorbing an empire "the open door in manchuria--of what concern is it to me any more than the revolution in portugal or the young turks movement in constantinople?" with some such expression the average american is likely to dismiss the question--a question whose determination may prove the pivot on which will swing the greatest world-movements of our time as well as the prosperity of many european and american industries, and that of the labor dependent upon them. i concerning manchuria and all the issues involved in the present struggle for its possession, all kinds of misconceptions are rife. that it is a small country; that it is an infertile country; that it must be already well developed in point of population and consumption of goods: this is only the abc of manchurian misinformation. in answer, it need only be said that manchuria is larger than all our new england, middle, and south atlantic states from maine to georgia inclusive, and that into its borders all of great britain (england, scotland and wales), together with all of the german empire, could be crowded, and still leave a gap so big that holland, belgium, and switzerland would lack thousands of square miles of filling it: while as to population manchuria has only , , people as compared with { } , , in the european countries just mentioned. and after having travelled in all of them as well as in manchuria i should say that the asiatic area is the more fertile. the possibilities of such an empire situated in the fairest portion of asia's temperate zone are simply illimitable. no one who has been through the fruitful lands of the american corn belt and wheat belt and goes later through manchuria can fail to note the similarity between them in physical appearance and natural resources, and it may well be that what the settlement of the west has meant in america these last fifty years the development of manchuria will mean in asia these next fifty. in itself the sheer creation of such a country--larger far than great britain and germany, as rich as illinois and manitoba--would appeal at once to american commerce and industry, but you have only begun to grasp the significance of manchuria when you compare it to the creation of such an empire in some favored portion of the sea. manchuria means all this, but it means more: its possession would give such vastly increased influence to any power possessing it as to make that power a menace to the commercial rights of all other nations in asia--rights of almost vital importance both to europe and america. england and germany, of course, are already dependent upon foreign trade for their prosperity, and president mckinley was never so seerlike as when, in his last speech at buffalo, he reminded the american people that their own future greatness depends upon the development of trade beyond the seas. and it was to asia, the greatest of continents, and especially to china, the greatest of countries on this greatest of continents, that he looked, as we must also look to-day. in secretary hay's memorial address on mckinley, which i had the good fortune to hear, the dead president's determined efforts to maintain the ancient integrity of the dragon empire were fittingly mentioned as one of his most distinguished services to his people and his time. { } to keep the immense area of china from spoliation by other nations and to preserve to all peoples equal commercial rights within boundaries are absolutely essential to the proper future development of both european and american commerce and industry. ii this is why the open door in manchuria is a matter of very real concern to every occidental citizen; this is why the other nations after the ending of the russo-japanese war were careful to see that these belligerents guaranteed a continuance of the open door policy; this is why it is of importance to us to know whether this pledge is being kept. in centering my attention upon japan in this article let me say in the outset, i am not to be understood as being one whit more tolerant of russian than of japanese aggression in manchuria--i am not. in the russo-japanese war my sympathies were all with japan, my present friendships with numbers of her sons i prize very highly, but i cannot blind myself to the fact that she is apparently "drunk with sight of power" in the orient. as conditions are to-day, the reason for giving primary attention to japan's position in manchuria rather than russia's must be self-evident. in the first place, the territory embraced in her sphere of influence is more important and contains two thirds the population. then again: northern manchuria being cold and inhospitable, japan's sphere not only covers the fairer and more favored section agriculturally, but from the standpoint of military strategy (as a mighty war taught all the world) japan is vastly better placed. with port arthur in her possession, and the new broad-gauge line from antung and mukden enabling her to rush troops across the sea of japan and through korea to manchuria without once getting into foreign waters or on foreign soil, she could ask nothing better. and finally and most significant of all, russia has { } suffered perhaps the greatest humiliation in her history by reason of manchurian aggression; she has learned japan's point of vantage; and whatever advance she makes in the near future will be only by japanese sufferance and connivance. { } [illustration: like scenes from our western prairies.] manchuria is a vast empire--one of the most fertile portions of the earth's surface. the great money crop is the soy bean, and the lower picture shows miles of beans and bean-cake awaiting shipment at changchun. { } [illustration: manchurian women (showing peculiar head-dress),] [illustration: chinese waste-paper collector.] everything in china is scrupulously saved--except human labor. that is wasted on a colossal scale through the failure to use improved machinery or scientific knowledge. { continued} whatever may be the meaning of the alleged secret treaty between japan and russia, the great truth which all nations need to remember is this: whatever scotches japanese aggression in manchuria scotches russian aggression at the same time--automatically and simultaneously. to the open door in manchuria japan carries the key. iii japan's primary commercial advantage over all other nations in south manchuria, her railway monopoly, together with the use she is making of this monopoly and her plans to maintain it, we must now consider more in detail. when the war with russia ended, japan succeeded russia in the control of what is now the south manchurian railway, running from dairen (formerly dalny) to chang-chun, miles, through the very heart of the country, and she also obtained from china the right "to maintain and work the military line constructed between antung and mukden _and_"--as if of secondary importance--"to improve the said line so as to make it fit for the conveyance of commercial and industrial goods of all nations." the stipulation with regard to the south manchurian railway was that china should have the right to buy it back in , and with regard to the antung-mukden line, in , by paying the total cost--"all capital and all moneys owed on account of the line and interest." and just here japan is playing a wily game. consider, for example, the antung-mukden line just referred to, now regarded as a part of the south manchurian system. although running through a very mountainous and sparsely settled area, it is of immense importance to japan { } from a strategic standpoint, connecting mukden as it does with the japanese railway in korea leading directly to fusan, and thus enabling japan to transport troops across her own territory to manchuria without taking any of the risks involved in getting out of her own waters and boundaries. the paramount military importance of the line is further indicated by the fact that no one had thought of a commercial line here at all. simply as a matter of war-time necessity japan stretched a - / -foot narrow-gauge line across these mountain barrens to transport her troops in . it is interesting to see, therefore, how she has now interpreted her right to "work, maintain and improve"--especially "improve"--this line. in october i spent two days travelling over its entire length ( miles), most of the time on the narrow-gauge part, and i was amazed to see on what a magnificent scale the new broad-gauge substitute line is now building. in striking contrast to the traditional japanese tendency to impermanence in building, this line is constructed regardless of expense as if to last for a thousand years. tunnel after tunnel through solid rock, the most superb masonry and bridges wherever streams intervene, the best of ballast to make an enduring roadbed--all these indicate the style of the new, not "improved" but utterly reconstructed, line which is building for japan's benefit at china's expense--at china's expense directly if she buys it back in , at china's expense indirectly if she doesn't. it will be remembered, of course, that according to her agreement with china, japan was to begin the work of "improving" the antung-mukden line within two years. whether she was strangely unable to make any sort of beginning in the period, or whether she purposely delayed it in order to show her contempt for chinese sovereignty in manchuria, it is difficult to say; what is known is only that the mikado's government let its treaty rights lapse, and then when china objected to a renewal, defied china, and proceeded with the work of "improvement" by what was euphemistically termed "independent action." { } incidentally, it may be recalled just here that in the portsmouth peace treaty japan and russia jointly promised the rest of the world "to exploit their respective railways in manchuria exclusively for commercial and industrial purposes and in no wise for strategic purpose." that japan (in the event no other method of getting control of manchuria appears) hopes to make the railroads too expensive for the hard-pressed peking government to buy back is self-evident. she is looking far ahead, as those interested in the continuance of the open door policy must also look far ahead. the real open door question is not a matter of the last four or five years or of the next four or five years, but whether after a comparatively short time the door is to be permanently closed as in korea. if it be said that japan is only human in laying many plans to gain so rich an empire, let it also be said that other nations are only human if they wish to protect their own interests. iv for one thing, as has been suggested, japan has a perfectly obvious plan to make the railways too expensive for china to purchase when the lease expires, and just here some comparisons may be in order. in japan proper the government-owned railway stations are severe and inexpensive structures in which not one yen is wasted for display and but little for convenience. when i was in tokyo, for example, ex-premier okuma, in a public interview, called attention to the disreputable condition and appearance of the leading station (shimbashi) in the japanese capital, declaring that foreign tourists must inevitably have their general impressions of the country unfavorably influenced by it, so primitive and uninviting is its appearance. but when it comes to the south manchurian railway, also under the control of the japanese government (five sixths of the investment held by the government and one { } sixth by individual japanese), one finds an entirely different policy in force. handsome stations, built to accommodate traffic for fifty years to come, have been erected. in dairen, "virtually the property of the railway company," the system has built a magnificent modern city--street railways, waterworks, electric light plants, macadamized roads, and beautiful public parks. more than this, the railway company, not content with the best of equipment for every phase of legitimate railway work, including handsome stations and railway offices, such as japan proper never sees, has also erected hotels which, for the orient, may well be styled sumptuous, in five leading cities of manchuria. comparatively few travellers go to mukden, and yet the hotel which the south manchurian railway has erected there, for example, is perhaps not excelled in point of furnishing and equipment anywhere in the far east. in buying back the railroads, therefore, china will be expected not only to pay for the railways themselves but for all the irrelevant enterprises--hotels, parks, cities--in which the railway companies have embarked; for lines "improved" beyond recognition, and for lines built not even with a view to ultimate profit, but for their strategic importance to a rival and possibly antagonist nation! as an englishman said to me: "it's much the same as if i, a poor man, should rent you a $ house, agreeing to stand the expense of some improvements when taking it back, and you should spend $ , in improving my $ house--and largely to suit your own peculiar business and purposes." more than this, japan, as i have said, is determined to keep her absolute monopoly on south manchurian railway facilities. in article iv of the portsmouth peace treaty japan and russia reciprocally engaged not to "obstruct any general measures, common to all countries, which china may take for the development of the commerce and industry of manchuria," but in december of the same year japan caused china to yield a secret agreement prohibiting any new line "in the { } neighborhood of and parallel to" the south manchurian railway or any branch line that "might be prejudicial" to it. japan, under threat of arms, forced china to abandon the plan for the hsinmintun-fakumen line after arrangements had been made with an english syndicate, and later japan and russia on the same pretext prevented the proposed chinchow-aigun line across mongolia and manchuria, although a hundred miles or more away from the south manchurian line. v that japan, then, holds the whip hand in manchuria, and expects to continue to hold it, is very clear. with china as yet too weak to protect herself, japan is virtually master of the situation. let us ask then--since this is in an american book--whether the open door policy is being enforced even now; to ask it of any one in manchuria is to be laughed at. i tried it once in a standard oil office and the man in front of me roared, and an unnoticed clerk at my back, overhearing so absurd a question, was also unable to contain his merriment. it is not a question of the fact of the shutting-up policy, chinese and foreigners in manchuria will tell you; it is only a question as to the extent of that condition. the truth is that the ink was hardly dry on the early treaties before the discriminations began. the military railroads, which japan was in honor bound to all the world to use only for war purposes, were used for transporting japanese goods before the military restrictions with regard to the admission of other foreign goods were removed. the chinese merchant and his patrons were famishing for cotton "piece goods" and other manufactured products, and the japanese goods coming over were quickly taken up and a market for these particular "chops" or "trademarks" (the chinaman relies largely on the chop) was established. by the time european and american goods came back their market in many cases { } had already been taken away. in some cases, too, their trademark rights had been virtually ruined by the closeness of japanese imitation. even on my recent tour, among consuls of three nations, at manchurian points, i did not find one who did not mention some recent case of trademark infringement. then came the period of freight discriminations and rebates, when the japanese (principally the mitsui bussan kaisha, the one great octopus of japanese business and commerce) secured freight rates that practically stifled foreign business competitors. the railway company now asserts that rebates (formerly allowed, it alleges, because of heavy shipments) are no longer given; but in many cases the evil effects of the former rebating policy remain in that japanese traders were thus allowed to rush in during a formative period and establish permanent trade connections. meanwhile, too, the relations between the japanese government and the mitsui bussan kaisha are so close that competitors are virtually in the plight of having to ship goods over a line owned by a rival--without any higher tribunal to guarantee equality of treatment. as was recently declared: "two directors of the south manchurian railway are also directors of mitsui bussan kaisha. the traffic manager of the railway is an ex-employee of mitsui. the customs force at dalny is not only entirely japanese--no other foreigner in charge of a chinese customs office employs exclusively assistants of his own nationality--but a number of the customs inspectors are ex-employees of mitsui. the mitsui company also maintains branches all through manchuria in and out of treaty ports. in this way they escape the payment of chinese likin, or toll taxes. the chinese have agreed that these taxes-- per cent, on the value of the goods each time they pass to a new inland town--shall not be paid so long as they remain in the hands of the foreigner. american piece goods often pay likin tax, two, three, or four times, while the japanese--sometimes legitimately by reason of their branch houses, sometimes illegally by bluffing chinese officials or smuggling through their military areas--manage to escape likin almost altogether." it may not be true that the japanese customs officials at dairen (the treaty provides that china shall appoint a japanese { } collector at this port), ignorantly or knowingly, allow japanese goods to be smuggled through to manchuria--although consuls of three nations a few months ago thought the matter serious enough to suggest an investigation--but the evasion of likin taxes in the interior is an admitted fact. more flagrant still is another violation of international treaty rights. under chinese regulations foreign merchants are not allowed to do business in the manchurian interior away from the twenty-four open marts, but it has been shown that several thousand japanese are now stationed within the prohibited area, and japan's reply to the chinese viceroy's protest is that he should have objected sooner and that it is now too late. meanwhile, many chinese merchants both in the interior and along the south manchurian railway, themselves paying the regular likin and consumption taxes, are finding themselves unable to compete with the japanese, who refuse to pay these taxes. thus japan is gradually rooting out the natives who stand in her way, and, day by day, tightening her grip on the country. she is advancing step by step as she did in korea. on the whole, the mikado's subjects seem already to count themselves virtual masters of the country. inside their railway areas and concessions they have their own government; in the majority of cases while in manchuria i found it more convenient to use the japanese telegraph or the japanese postal system than the chinese; and where i stopped at the little towns along the line it was a japanese officer who came to inquire my name and nationality. when i was in mukden the german consul there had just had two chinese meddlers arrested for spying on his movements, only to find that they were acting under the direction of japanese officials who claimed immunity for them! the fact that they have their soldiers back of them, and that they can be tried only in their own courts, also gives the japanese unlimited assurance in bullying the natives. at mukden the japanese bellboy struck my chinese rickshaw { } man to get his attention. at taolu some weeks ago some japanese merchants who were there doing business illegally (for it is not an open mart) were interfered with, with the result that the japanese authorities when i was in mukden were preparing a formal demand for satisfaction, including indemnity for any injury to an unlawful business! manifestly, the new masters of manchuria propose to teach the natives their place. "if a chinaman is killed by a japanese bullet," as a chinaman of rank said to me in manchuria, "the fault is not that of the man who fired the bullet: the chinaman is to blame for getting in the way of it!" vi those who apologize for japanese aggressiveness in manchuria, those who excuse or sympathize with her evident purpose to make manchuria walk the way of korea, have but one argument for their position--the pitiably abused and threadbare plea that the japanese have won the country by the blood they shed in the war with russia. the best answer to this is also a quotation from the distinguished and witty chinaman just mentioned. "the japanese," said he, "claimed they were fighting russia because she was preparing to rob china of manchuria; now they themselves out-russia russia. it is much as if i should knock a man down, saying, 'that man was about to take your watch,' and then take the watch myself!" the aptness of the simile is evident. my sympathy, and the sympathy of every other american acquaintance of mine as far as i can now recall, was with japan in her struggle because of our hot indignation over russian aggressiveness. but if japan had said, "i am fighting to put russia out only that i may myself develop every identical policy of aggrandizement that she has inaugurated," it is very easy to see with what different feelings we should have regarded the conflict. { } moreover, japan's legitimate fruits of victory do not extend to the control or possession of manchuria. as one of the ablest englishmen met on my tour in the far east pointed out, japan's purposes in inaugurating the war were four: ( ) to get a preponderating influence in korea; ( ) to get the control of the tsushima straits, which a preponderating influence in korea would give her; ( ) to drive russia from her ever-menacing position at port arthur; and ( ) to arrest (as she alleged) the increasing influence and power of russia in manchuria. all these things she has gained. furthermore, she now has actual possession of korea. the menace of a great russian navy has been swept away. again, she has become (with the consent of england) the commanding naval power in the eastern pacific; and she has gained an influence in south manchuria at least equal to that which russia had previous to the war. and yet one hears the plea that unless she gets manchuria her blood will have been spilt without result! unless she can do more in the way of robbing china than she went to war with russia for doing, she will not be justified! among representatives of five nations with whom i discussed the matter in manchuria i found no dissent from the opinion that japan will never get out of manchuria, unless forced to do so by a speedily awakened china or by the most emphatic and unmistakable attitude on the part of the powers. chinese, english, americans, germans--all nationalities--in manchuria agree that thus far the way of manchuria has been the way of korea and that only favoring circumstances--a rebellion fomented in china or whatever excuse may serve--is needed for the same end to be reached. then with japanese customs duties to complete the shutting out of foreign goods, now made only partially possible by the discrimination of a railway monopoly, and with the entire chinese empire and foreign trade rights within it menaced by the added preeminence of japan, the people of europe and america { } may wake up too late to find out at last that the open door in manchuria is a matter of somewhat more general importance than the disturbances in turkey or the change of government in portugal. be it said, in conclusion, however, that if the white nations take heed in time all this may be prevented. china's waking up may serve the same purpose, but it is doubtful whether she will develop sufficient military strength for this. in any case there need be and should be no war, and in describing conditions as i found them my purpose is to help the cause of peace and not that of bloodshed. for if the powers realize the seriousness of the situation and give evidence of such feeling to japan that she will realize the bounds of safety, there will be no trouble. but a continued policy of ignorance, indifference, or inactivity means that japan will probably go so far that she cannot retreat without a struggle. truth is in the interest of peace. mukden, manchuria. { } x light from china on problems at home i am here in china's ancient capital at one of the most interesting periods in all the four thousand years that the son of heaven has ruled the middle kingdom. the old china is dying--fast dying; a new china is coming into being so rapidly as to amaze even those who were most expectant of rapid change. the dreams of twelve years ago, that have since seemed nothing but dreams, are coming into actual realization. great reforms were then proposed--twelve years ago--and the emperor sanctioned edict after edict for their introduction. but their hour had not yet come. i talked yesterday with one of the men whose voice was most potent at that time: a man whose heart was then aflame with the idea of remaking china. they dared much, did these men, and tantsetung, a chinaman of high rank and a christian, consecrated himself on his knees to the great task, with all the devotion of a hannibal swearing allegiance to carthage. but reaction came. the emperor was deposed and the empress dowager substituted, and tantsetung and five other leaders were beheaded. now, however, dying tantsetung's brave words have already been fulfilled: "you may put me to death, but a thousand others will rise up to preach the same doctrine." a new reign has come; the empress dowager, dying, has been succeeded by a mere boy, whose father, the prince regent, holds the imperial sceptre. but the sceptre is no longer all-powerful. { } for the first time in all the cycles of cathay the voice of the people is stronger than the voice of the throne. men do not hesitate any day to say things for which, ten years ago, they would have paid the penalty with their heads. there are many things that give one faith in the future of china, but nothing else which begets such confidence as the success of the crusade against the opium habit. four years ago, when the news went out that china had resolved to put an end to the opium habit within ten years--had started on a ten years' war against opium--there were many who scoffed at the whole project as too ridiculous and quixotic even for praise; there were more who regarded it as praiseworthy but as being as unpromising as a drunkard's swearing off at new year's, while those who expected success to come even in twice ten years hardly dared express their confidence among well-informed people. "if there is anything which all our contact with the chinese has taught more unquestionably than anything else, it is that the chinaman will always be a slave to the opium habit." so said a professedly authoritative american book on china, published only five years ago, and to hold any other opinion was usually regarded as contradictory to common sense. "we white americans can't get rid of whiskey intemperance with all our moral courage and all our civilization and all our christianity. how then can you expect the poor, ignorant chinaman to shake off the clutches of opium?" so it was said, but to-day the most tremendous moral achievement of recent history--china's victory over opium-intemperance already assured and in great measure completed, not in ten years, but in four--stands out as a stinging rebuke to the slow progress our own people have made in their warfare against drink-intemperance. to shake off the opium habit when once it has gripped a man is no easy task. officials right here in peking, for example, died as a result of stopping too suddenly after the { } edict came out announcing that no opium victim could remain in the public service. but a member of the emperor's cabinet, or grand council, tells me that per cent, of the public officials who were formerly opium-smokers have given up the habit, or have been dismissed from office. five per cent, may smoke in secret, but with the constant menace of dismissal hanging like a damocles sword over their heads, it may be assumed that even these few are breaking themselves from the use of the drug. formerly it was the custom for the host to offer opium to his guests, but the chinese have now quite a changed public sentiment. because they recognize that opium is ruining the lives of many of their people, and lessening the efficiency of many others, because they regard it as a source of weakness to their country and danger to their sons, it has become a matter of shame for a man to be known as an opium-smoker, even "in moderation." to be free from such an enervating dissipation is regarded as the duty not only to one's self and one's family, but to the country as well: it is a patriotic duty. i saw a cartoon in a native chinese paper the other day in which there were held up to especial scorn and humiliation the weakling officials who had lost their offices by reason of failure to shake off opium. in short, the opium-smoker, instead of being a sort of "good fellow with human weaknessess"--and with possibilities, of course, of going utterly to wreck--has become an object of contempt, a bad citizen. the earnestness of the people has been strikingly illustrated in the great financial sacrifices made by farmers and landowners in sections where the opium poppy was formerly grown. the culture of the poppy in some sections was far more profitable than that of any other crop; it was, in fact, the "money crop" of the people. in fact, to stop growing the opium poppy has meant in some cases a decrease of per cent, in the profit and value of the land. farms mortgaged on the basis of old land values, therefore, had to be sold; peasants who had { } been home-owners became homeless. and yet china has thought no price too great to pay in the effort to free herself from this form of intemperance. well may her leading men proudly declare, as one did to me to-day: "while america dares not undertake the task of stopping the whiskey curse among less than a hundred million people, we are stopping the opium curse among over four hundred millions." it should also be observed that there is little drunkenness over here. at a dinner party friday evening my hostess thought it worth while to mention as a matter of general interest to her guests (so rare is the occurrence) that she had seen a drunken chinaman that day. i have not yet seen one. china is waking up, and i am glad she is. she is going into industrial competition with all the world, and i am glad that she is. i believe that every strong and worthy nation is enriched by the proper development of every other nation. but in this coming struggle the people whom vice or dissipation has rendered weak sooner or later must go down before the men who, gaining the mastery over every vicious habit, keep their bodies strong and their minds clear. in thunder tones indeed does china's victory over opium speak to america. if we are to maintain our high place among the nations of the earth, if we are to keep our leadership in wealth and industry, we can do it only by freeing ourselves, as heroically as the yellow man of the orient is doing in this respect, from every enervating influence that now weakens the physical stamina, blunts the moral sense, or befogs the brain. the new china is devoting itself to a number of other reforms to which the people of america may well give attention. the curse of graft among her public officials ("squeeze" it is called over here) is one of the most deep-rooted cancers with which she has to contend. officers have been paid small salaries and have been allowed to make up for the meagreness of their stipends by exacting all sorts of fees and tips. before the coming parliament is very old, however, it will { } doubtless undertake to do away with the fee and "squeeze" system, stop grafting, and put all the more important offices on a strict salary basis. under the old fee system of paying county and city officials in the united states, as my readers know, we have often let enormous sums go into office-holders' pockets when they should have gone into improving our roads and schools. the chinese system not only has this weakness, but by reason of the fact that the fees are not regularly fixed by law, as is the case with us, the way is opened for numberless other abuses. currency reform is in china a matter hardly second in importance to the abolition of "squeeze." there is no national currency here; each province (or state, as we would say) issues its own money when it pleases, just as the different american states did two generations ago. i remember hearing an old man tell of going from the carolinas to alabama about and having to pay heavy exchange to get his carolina money changed into alabama money. so it is in china to-day. you must get your bills of one bank or province changed whenever you go into another bank or province, paying an outrageous discount, and a banking corporation will even discount a bill issued by another branch of the same corporation. thus a friend of mine with a five-dollar russia-asiatic banknote from the peking branch on taking it to the russia-asiatic's branch at hankow gets only $ . for it. nor is this all: all kinds of money are in circulation, the values constantly fluctuating, and hundreds and thousands of men make a living by "changing money," getting a percentage on each transfer. take the so-called -cent pieces in circulation; they lack a little of weighing one fifth as much as the -cent dollar; consequently it takes sometimes and again cents "small coin" to equal one dollar! the whole system is absurd, of course, and yet when the government proposes to establish a uniform national currency it is { } said that the influence of these money-changers is so great as to make any reform exceedingly slow and difficult. and yet let not my readers at home with this statement before them proceed too hastily to laugh or sneer at china for unprogressiveness. for my part, as i have thought of this matter of money transfer over here, the whole question has seemed to me to be on all-fours with our question of land title transfers at home, and the more i have thought of it the firmer has the conviction become. in fact, china's failure to adopt a modern currency system is perhaps even less a sinning against light than our failure to adopt the torrens system of registering land titles. the man who makes a living by changing money and investigating its value is no more a parasite than the man who makes a living changing titles or investigating their value; the hindrance of trade and easy transfer of property is no more excusable in one case than the other; and the per cent, that china might save by a better system of money transfers is paralleled by the per cent, that we might save by a better system of title transfers. mr. money-changing banker, fattening needlessly at the expense of the people, prevents currency reform in china--yes, that is true. but before we assume superior airs let us see if mr. title-changing lawyer, also fattening needlessly at the expense of the people, does not go to our next legislature and stifle any measure for reforming land-title registration. and in saying this i am not to be understood as making any wholesale condemnation of either chinese bankers or our american lawyers. the ablest advocates of the torrens system i know are lawyers, men who say that lawyers ought to be content with the really useful ways of earning money and not insist on keeping up utterly useless and indefensible means of getting fees out of the people. such lawyers, indeed, deserve honor; my criticism is aimed only at those who realize the wisdom of a changed system but are led by selfishness to oppose it. { } after all, however, the most revolutionary and iconoclastic reform in the new china is the changed policy of the schools. for thousands of years the education has been exclusively literary. the aim has been to produce scholars. a thorough knowledge of the works of the sages and poets, and the ability to write learned essays or beautiful verses, this has been the test of merit. when colonel denby wrote his book on china five years ago he could say: "the chinese scholar knows nothing of ancient or modern history (outside of china), geography, astronomy, zoology or physics. he knows perfectly well the dynastic history of his own country and he composes beautiful poems, and these are his only accomplishments." but now all this is changed. the ancient system of selecting public officials by examination as to classical scholarship was abolished the year after colonel denby's book was published, and the new ideal of the school is to train men and women for useful living, for practical things, and to combine culture with utility. japanese education now has the same aim. there, in fact, even the study of the languages is made to subserve a practical end. where the american boy studies latin and soon forgets it, the japanese boy studies english and continues to read english and speak it on occasion the rest of his life, increasing his efficiency and usefulness in no small measure as a result. in japan, too, i found the keenest interest in the teaching of agriculture to boys and domestic science to girls; and in all these things china is also moving--blunderingly, perhaps, but yet making progress--toward the most modern educational ideas. as a matter of fact, much as america has talked these last ten years of making the schools train for more useful living, china and japan have actually moved relatively much farther away from old standards than we have done, and if they should continue the same rate of advance for the next thirty years we may find their schools doing more for the efficiency { } of the people than our american schools are doing. and when i say this let not the cry go up that i am decrying culture. already i anticipate the criticism from men who cling to old standards of education with even more tenacity than absurdly conservative china has done. i am not decrying culture, but i am among those who insist that culture may come from a study of useful things as well as from a study of useless things; that a knowledge of the chemistry of foods may develop a girl's mind as much as a knowledge of chemistry that is without practical use; and that a boy may get about as much cultural value from the knowledge of a language which does put him into touch with modern life as from the knowledge of a language which might put him into touch with ancient life but which he will probably forget as soon as he gets his diploma. slow-moving and tradition-cursed china and japan, as we thought them a generation ago, have already committed themselves to making education train for actual life. has america given anything more than a half-hearted assent to the idea? the practical value of this article, i am reminded just here, has to do almost entirely with legislation. you may wish to remind your member of the legislature of the parallel between the wasteful and antiquated money-transfer system in china and the equally wasteful and antiquated title-transfer system at home; you may wish to inform your member of the legislature and your school officials of the advance of practical education in the orient; and you may wish to remind both your member of the legislature and your congressman of china's successful crusade against the opium evil as an incentive for more determined american effort against the drink evil. let me conclude this letter, therefore, with two more facts with which you may prod your representatives in washington. (which reminds me to remark, parenthetically, that every reform the chinese are getting to-day comes as a result of persistently bringing pressure on their officials; and this { } parenthetical observation may be as full of suggestion as any idea i have elaborated at greater length.) the two facts with which you may stir up your servants in washington are just these: first, in regard to the parcels post. here in china the other day i mailed a package by parcels post to another country for about half what it would have cost me to mail it from one county-seat to another at home. how long are we going to be content to let so-called "heathen" countries like china have advantages which so-called enlightened, progressive america is too slow to adopt? secondly, the tariff. here in the hotel where i write this article one of the foremost journalists in the far east tells me that the average tariff-protected american industry sells goods to asiatic buyers at per cent. less than it will sell to the people at home. thirty per cent., he says, is the usual discount for oriental trade. an electric dynamo which is sold in america for $ , for instance, is sold for chinese trade at $ or $ . quite a number of times on this trip have men told me that they can get american goods cheaper over here, after paying the freight ten thousand miles, than we americans can buy them at our own doors. for example, a man told me a few weeks ago of buying fleece-lined underwear at half what it costs at home; a missionary tells me that he saves cents on each two-pound can of royal baking powder as compared with american prices; libby's meats are cheaper in london than in san francisco; harvesting machinery made in chicago is carried across land and sea, halfway around the world, and sold in far-away siberia for less than the american farmer can buy it at the factory gates. and these are only a few instances. hundreds of others might be given. how long the american people are going to find it amusing to be held up in such fashion remains to be seen. peking, china. { } xi the new china: awake and at work within eighteen months china will have a parliament or a revolution (she may have both). such at least is the prediction i am willing to risk, and it is one which i believe most foreigners in peking would indorse. and the coming of a parliament, popular government, to guide the destinies of the vast empire over which the son of heaven has reigned supreme for more than four thousand years--this is only one chapter in the whole marvelous story, not of china awakening, but of china awake. for the breaking with tradition, the acceptance of modern ideas, which but yesterday was a matter of question, is now a matter of history. "china breaking up" was the keynote of everything written about the middle kingdom ten years ago; "china waking up" has been the keynote of everything treating of it these last five years. sir john jordan, british minister to china, does not exaggerate when he declares that in a european sense china has made greater progress these last ten years than in the preceding ten centuries. the criticism one hears most often now is, not that the popular leaders are too conservative, but that they are if, anything, too radical; are moving, not too slowly, but too rapidly. instead of the old charge that china is unwilling to learn what the west has to teach, i now hear foreigners complain that a little contact with europe and america gives a leader { } undue influence. "let an official take a trip abroad and for six months after his return he is the most respected authority in the empire." instead of english missionaries worrying over china's slavery to the opium habit, we now have english officials embarrassed because china's too rapid breaking loose from opium threatens heavy deficits in indian revenues. instead of the old extreme "states' rights" attitude on the part of the provinces, as illustrated by the refusal of the others to aid manchuria and chihli in the war with japan, the beginnings of an intense nationalism are now very clearly in evidence. even confucius no longer looks backward. a young friend of mine who is a descendant of the sage (of the seventy-fifth generation) speaks english fluently and is getting a thoroughly modern education, while duke kung, who inherits the title in the confucian line, is patron of a government school which gives especial attention to english and other modern branches--by his direction. significant, too, is the fact that the ancient examination halls in peking to which students have come from all parts of the empire, the most learned classical scholars among them rewarded with the highest offices, have now been torn down, and where these buildings once stood chinese masons and carpenters are fashioning the building that is to house china's first national parliament--unless the parliament comes before this building can be made ready. and so it goes. when a man wakes up, he does not wake up in a part of his body only, he wakes up all over. so it seems with cathay. the more serious problem now is not to get her moving, but to keep her from moving too rapidly. in his civic forum address in new york three years ago, wu ting fang quoted wen hsiang's saying, "when china wakes up, she will move like an avalanche." a movement with the power of an avalanche needs very careful guidance. the one question about which every chinese reformer's heart is now aflame is that of an early parliament. by the imperial decree of a parliament and a constitution were { } promised within nine years. at that time there was little demand for a parliament, but with the organization of the provincial assemblies in the fall of the people were given an opportunity to confer together and were also given a taste of power. for the first time, too, they seem to have realized suddenly the serious plight of the empire and the fact that since the deaths of the late emperor and empress dowager, and the dismissal of yuan shih-kai by the prince regent acting for the infant emperor, the peking government is without a strong leader. consequently the demand for a hastened parliament has grown too powerful to be resisted. true, when the delegates from all the provincial assemblies voiced this demand to the prince regent last spring his reply was the edict of may , declaring that the programme outlined by their late majesties, like the laws of the medes and persians, could not be changed. furthermore, the throne remarked significantly: "let no more petitions or memorials upon this subject be presented to us; our mind is made up." unfortunately for the peace of the regent, however, john chinaman is absurdly and obnoxiously persistent on occasion. if you will not heed other appeals, he may commit suicide on your doorstep, and then you are bewitched for the rest of your days, to say nothing of your nights. the talk of an earlier parliament would not down even at the bidding of the dragon throne. quietly unmanageable delegations waited upon viceroys and compelled these high officials to petition for a reopening of the question. down in kiang su a scholar cut off his left arm and with the red blood wrote his appeal. in union medical hospital, here in peking, as i write this, a group of students are recovering from self-inflicted wounds made in the same cause. going to the prince regent's, they were told that the prince could not see them. "very well," they declared, "we shall sit here till he does." at length the prince sent word that, though he could not receive them, he would consider their petition, and the students then sliced the { } living flesh from their arms and thighs as evidence of their earnestness, coloring their petition with their blood. { } [illustration: pu yi, the son of heaven and emperor of the middle kingdom.] the baby sovereign of one of the vastest and oldest of empires is shown here in the lap of his father. prince chun, the regent. { } [illustration: how china is dealing with opium-intemperance.] burning a pile of pipes of reformed smokers at hankow. the amazing success of china's crusade to free her people from the opium curse may be justly reckoned one of the greatest moral achievements in history--a challenge to our western world. { continued} at this period of our drama there came upon the stage a new actor, at first little heeded, but quickly becoming the dominating figure--the tzucheng yuan, or national assembly. this body, consisting of nobles and men of wealth or scholarship appointed by the throne, and selected members of provincial assemblies approved by the viceroys, was expected to prove a mere echo of the royal wishes. "it is evident that the government is to have a docile and submissive assembly. mediocrity is the chief characteristic of the members chosen." so wrote one of the best informed americans in china, some weeks before it assembled, october . reuter's press agent in peking predicted through his papers that a few pious resolutions would represent the sum total of the assembly's labors. and yet the first day that these two gentlemen went with me to look in on the assembly we found it coolly demanding that the grand council, or imperial cabinet, be summoned before it to explain an alleged breach of the rights of provincial assemblies! from the very beginning the course of this national assembly in steadily gathering unexpected power to itself has reminded me of the old states-general in france in the days just before the revolution, and i could not help looking for danton and robespierre among the fiery orators in gown and queue on this occasion. significantly, too, i now hear on the authority of an eminent scholar that carlyle's great masterpiece is the most popular work of historical literature ever translated into chinese. may it teach them some lessons of restraint as well as of aggressiveness! be that as it may, the assembly has proved untamable in its demands for an early parliament, not even the hundred government members standing up against the imperious pressure of public opinion. in late october the assembly { } unanimously petitioned the throne to hasten the programme of constitutional government. the day this petition was presented it was currently rumored in peking that unless the prince regent should yield the people would refuse to pay taxes. but he yielded. the trouble now is that he did not yield enough to satisfy the public, and there is every indication that he will have to yield again, in spite of the alleged unalterableness of the present plan, which allows a parliament in instead of in , as originally promised. a parliament within eighteen months seems a safe prediction as i write this. it also seems safe to prophesy that the powers of the parliament will be wisely used. in local affairs the chinese practically established the rule of the people centuries before any european nation adopted the idea. nominally, the local magistrate has had almost arbitrary power, but practically the control has been in the hands of the village elders. when they have met and decided on a policy, the magistrate has not dared run counter to it. in much the same fashion, governors and viceroys of provinces have been controlled and kept in check. thus centuries of practical self-government in local affairs have given the chinese excellent preparation for the new departure in national affairs. what is proposed is not a new power for the people but only an enlargement or extension of powers they already exercise. parliamentary government is the one great accomplishment the chinese people are now interested in, because they propose to make it the tool with which to work out the other herculean tasks that await them. happy are they in that they may set about these tasks inspired by the self-confidence begotten of one of the greatest moral achievements of modern times. i refer, of course, to the almost marvellous success of their anti-opium crusade which i have already discussed. mr. frederick ward, who has just returned from a visit to many provinces, finding in all the same surprising success { } in enforcing anti-opium regulations, declares: "it is the miracle of the middle kingdom and a lesson for the world."' china's next great task is the education of her people, and the remedy for pessimism here is to compare her present condition, not with that of other nations, but with her own condition ten years ago. a reported school attendance of less than one million ( , to be exact) in a population of , , does not look encouraging, but when we compare these figures with the statistics of attendance a few years ago there is unmistakable evidence of progress. in the metropolitan province of chihli, for example, i find that there are now more teachers in government schools than there were pupils six years ago, and the total attendance has grown from to , ! even if china had not established a single additional school, however, or increased the school attendance by even a percentage fraction, her educational progress these last ten years would yet be monumental. for as different as the east is from the west, so different, in literal fact, are her educational ideals at the present time as compared with her educational ideals a decade ago. at one fell blow (by the edict of ) the old exclusively classical and literary system of education was swept away, made sacred though it was by the traditions of unnumbered centuries. unfortunately the work of putting the new policies into effect was entrusted to the slow and bungling hands of the old literati; but this was a necessary stroke of policy, for without their support the new movement would have been hopelessly balked. the old education taught nothing of science, nothing of history or geography outside of china, nothing of mathematics in its higher branches. its main object was to enable the scholar to write a learned essay or a faultless poem, its main use to enable him by these means to get office. under the old system the chinese boy learned a thousand characters before he learned their meaning; after this he took up a book { } containing a list of all the surnames in the empire, and the "trimetrical classics," consisting of proverbs and historical statements with each sentence in three characters. now he is taught in much the same way as the western boy. the old training developed the powers of memory; the new training the powers of reasoning. the old education enabled the pupil to frame exquisite sentences; the new gives him a working knowledge of the world. the old looked inward to china and backward to her past; the new looks outward to other countries and forward to china's future. the old was meant to develop a few scholarly officials; the new, to develop many useful citizens. "even our students who go abroad," as a peking official said to me, "illustrate the new tendencies. formerly they preferred to study law or politics; now they take up engineering or mining." a consideration of chinese education, however brief, would not be fair without mention of the crushing handicap under which her people labor and must always labor so long as the language remains as it is to-day--without an alphabet--separate and arbitrary characters to be learned for each and every word in the language. this means an absolute waste of at least five years in the pupil's school life, except in so far as memorizing the characters counts as memory-training, and five years make up the bulk of the average student's school days in any country. if it were not for this handicap and the serious difficulty of finding teachers enough for present needs, it would be impossible to set limits to the educational advance of the next twenty years. the school and the teacher have always been held in the highest esteem in china. her only aristocracy has been an aristocracy, not of wealth, but of scholarship; her romance has been, not that of the poor boy who became rich, but of the poor boy who found a way to get an education and became distinguished in public service. under the old system, if the son of a hard-working family became noted for aptness in the { } village school, if the schoolmaster marked him for a boy of unusual promise, the rest of the family, with a devotion beautiful to see, would sacrifice their own pleasure for his advancement. he would be put into long robes and allowed to give himself up wholly to learning, while parents, brothers, and sisters found inspiration for their own harder labors in the thought of the bright future that awaited him. the difficulty is that education has been regarded as the privilege of a gifted few, not as the right of all. in a land where scholarship has been held in such high favor, however, once let the school doors open to everybody and there is little doubt that china will eventually acquire the strength more essential than armies or battleships: the power which only an educated common people can give. china's next great purpose is to develop an efficient army. "might is right" is the english proverb that i have found more often on the tongues of the new school of chinese than any other; and we must confess that other nations seem to have tried hard enough to make her accept the principle. in the old days there was a saying, "better have no son than one who is a soldier." to-day its new foreign-drilled army of , to , men is the boast of the middle kingdom, and the army is said to be the most honestly administered department of the government. in sharp contrast to the old contempt for the soldier, i now find one of the ablest journals in the empire (the shanghai _national review_) protesting that interest in military training is now becoming too intense: "scarce a school of any pretensions but has its military drill, extending in some instances as far as equipment with modern rifles and regular range practice, and we regret to notice that some of the mission schools have so far forgotten themselves as to pander to this militarist spirit." it has often been said, of course, that the chinese will not make good soldiers, but whether this has been proved is open to question. certainly, in view of their wretchedly inferior { } equipment, their failure to distinguish themselves in the war with japan cannot be regarded as conclusive. take, for example, this description by an eye-witness: "every tenth man [among the chinese soldiers] had a great silk banner, but few were armed with modern weapons. those who had rifles and modern weapons at all had them of all makes; so cartridges of twenty different sorts and sizes were huddled together without any attempt at classification, and in one open space all sorts were heaped on the ground, and the soldiers were fitting them to their arms, sometimes trying eight or ten before finding one to fit the weapon, throwing the rejected ones back into the heap." no sort of efficiency on the part of the rank and file could have atoned for such criminal indifference to equipment on the part of the officers. it seems to be the opinion of the military authorities with whom i have talked that the chinese army is now better manned than officered. "wherever there has been a breach of discipline, i have found it the officers' fault," an american soldier told me. the annexation of korea, once china's vassal, by japan, and that country's steadily tightening grip on manchuria have doubtless quickened china's desire for military strength. moreover, she wishes to grow strong enough to denounce the treaties by which opium is even now forced upon her against her will, and by which she is forced to keep her tariff duty on foreign goods averaging per cent., alike on luxuries and necessities. the fifth among china's herculean labors is the cleansing of her augean stables, and by this i can mean nothing else than the abolition of the system of "squeeze," or graft, on the part of her officials. in fact, no other reform can be complete until this is accomplished. the bulk of every officer's receipts comes not from his salary, which is as a rule absurdly small, but from "squeezes"--fees which every man who has dealings with him must pay. in most cases, of course, these fees have been determined in a general way by long usage, but their acceptance opens the way for innumerable abuses. high { } offices are auctioned off. when i was in manchuria it was currently reported that the governor of kirin had paid one hundred thousand taels for his office. when i was in new-chwang the viceroy of manchuria had just enriched himself to the extent of several thousand taels by a visit to that port. the men who had had favors from him or had favors to ask left "presents" of a rather substantial character when they called. i learn from an excellent authority that when an electric lighting contract was let for hankow or its suburbs a short time ago the officials provided a squeeze for themselves of per cent., but that the nanking officials, in arranging for electric lights there, didn't even seem to care whether the plant worked at all or not: they were anxious only to make a contract which would net them per cent, of the gross amount! under such circumstances it is not surprising to learn that many an office involving the handling of government revenues has its price as definitely known as the price of stocks or bonds. in private business the chinese have a reputation for honesty which almost any other nation might envy. with their quickened spirit of patriotism they will doubtless see to it that their public business is relieved of the shameless disgrace that the "squeeze system" now attaches to it. these are some of the big new tasks to which awakened china is addressing herself. of course, the continued development of her railways is no less important than any other matter i have mentioned, but railway building cannot be regarded as one of china's really new tasks. for years she has been alive to the importance of uniting the people of the different provinces by means of more railways, more telegraph lines, and better postal service. the increase in number of pieces of mail handled from , , pieces in to , , in the last fiscal year bears eloquent testimony alike to the progress of the post office and to the growing intelligence of the people. by telegraph the people of remotest cathay now make their wishes known to the son of heaven and the { } tzucheng yuan; it was by telephone that this tzucheng yuan, or national assembly, requested the grand council of the dragon empire to appear before it on the day of my first visit. the slow and stately camel caravans still come down from mongolia to peking--i have seen them wind their serpentine length through the gates of the great wall at nankou as they have been doing for centuries past--but no longer do they bring the latest news from the tribes about desert gobi. across miles of its barren wastes an undaunted telegraph line now "hums the songs of the glad parts of the earth." it is no longer worth while to speculate upon the probability of a new china; the question now is as to how the new china is going to affect the united states and the rest of the world. from our pacific coast, china is our next-door neighbor, and vastly nearer in fact than any map has ever indicated. even new york city is now nearer to shanghai and hong kong, in point of ease of access, than she was to chicago a century ago. how japan's awakening has increased that country's foreign trade all the world knows--and china has eight times the population of japan proper, and twenty-eight times the area, with almost fabulously valuable natural resources as yet untouched! some one has said that to raise the chinese standard of living to that of our own people would be (from the standpoint of markets) equivalent to the creation of four americas. the importance of bringing about closer commercial relations between the united states and the middle kingdom can hardly be overestimated. it is to be hoped, however, that in our desire to cultivate china's friendship we shall not go to the length of changing our policy of excluding asiatic immigration. to the thoughtful student it must be plain that in the end such a change would lead only to disastrous reaction. at the same time we might well effect a change in our methods of enforcing that policy. there is nothing else on land or sea that the celestial so much dreads as to "lose face," to be humiliated, and it { } is the humiliation that attaches to the exclusion policy rather than the policy itself that is the great stumbling-block in the way of thorough cordial relations with america. you wouldn't so much object to having the servant at the door report his master not at home to visitors, but you would object to having the door slammed in your face; and john chinaman is just about as human as the rest of us. moreover, our own friendliness for john should lead us to adopt the more courteous of these two methods. why should not our next exclusion law, therefore, be based upon the idea of reciprocity, and provide that there shall be admitted into america any year only so many chinese laborers as there were american laborers admitted into china the preceding year? finally, it must always be remembered that the awakening of china is a matter far more profound than any statistics of exports or imports or railway lines or industrial development. the dragon empire cannot become (as she will) one of the mightiest powers of the earth, her four hundred million people cannot be brought (as they will be brought) into the full current of the world's activities, without profoundly influencing all future civilization. for its own sake christendom should seize quickly the opportunity offered by the present period of flux and change to help mold the new force that it must henceforth forever reckon with. "the remedy for the yellow peril, whatever that may be," as mr. roosevelt said while president, "is not the repression of life, but the cultivation and direction of life." the school, the mission, the newspaper--these are the agencies that should be used. japan has thousands of teachers in china and scores of newspapers, but no other nation is adequately active. the present kindly feeling for america guarantees an especially cordial reception for american teachers, ministers, and writers, and those who feel the call to lands other than their own cannot find a more promising field than china. peking, china. { } xii a trip into rural china i can't get over (and i hope i never shall) my boyish interest in the great strange animals that walk along behind the steam piano in the circus parades. and the animals that i like to see most, i believe, are the elephants and the camels. the elephant has about him such quiet, titanic, unboasting strength, such ponderous and sleepy-eyed majesty, as to excite my admiration, but the camel has almost an equal place in my interest and esteem. he is a funny-looking beast, is the camel, and he always reminds me of henry cates' story of the very little boy who started making a mud man in the spring branch, but before he got the second arm on, a storm came up, and when he came back his man had mysteriously disappeared. but when johnny went to town next day and for the first time in his life saw a one-armed man, the whole mystery cleared, and rushing up, he demanded: "why didn't you wait for me to finish you?" somehow the camel, like johnny's mud man, always looks to me as if he got away before he was finished. he is either a preliminary rough sketch accidentally turned loose on the world, or else he got warped somehow in the drying process--great, quiet, shaggy, awkward, serene, goose-necked, saddle-backed old slow and steady! { } [illustration: a man-made desert.] [illustration: pumping water for irrigation.] the destruction of china's mountain forests has made deserts of vast areas that were once fair and fruitful. the lower picture, showing chinese pumping water by human treadmill, furnishes another illustration of the orient's waste of labor. { } [illustration: transportation and travel in china.] the camels that come down from mongolia and wind their unhurried way from chien men gate to the gate of the heavenly peace form one of the most picturesque of the many picturesque sights in fascinating old peking. the right-hand picture shows the author utilizing the most rapid means of transit in the mountains north of peking. { continued} let me confess, therefore, that hardly anything else on my entire tour has given me more pleasure than the sight of the camel trains about peking and all the way to the end of the nankou pass in the mountains north of the ancient chinese { } capital. at the pass this morning i saw three such camel trains coming down from mongolia and the desert of gobi: long, slow-moving, romantic caravans that made me feel as if i had become a character in the arabian nights or a contemporary of kublai-khan. one of the trains was the longest i have yet seen--twenty-five or thirty camels, i should say, treading indian-file with their usual unostentatious stateliness, a wooden pin through each camel's nostrils from which a cord bound him to the camel next ahead, a few strangely dressed drivers guiding the odd oriental procession. nor were the camels the only strange travellers encountered by my party, a young frenchman, the german, and myself, as we rode our little donkeys mile after mile of rocky way from nankou village through the pass. to begin with, we were ourselves funny-looking enough, for my donkey was so small that he could almost walk under the belly of my saddle-horse at home, and my feet almost touched the ground. the donkeys ridden by my friends were but little larger, and altogether we looked very much like three clowns riding trick mules-- an effect somewhat heightened when the frenchman's donkey dropped him twice in the mud! it was our clothing, however, our ordinary american and european trousers, coats, overcoats and hats, and the fact that we wore no queues down our backs, that made us objects of curiosity to the mongolian and manchurian camel-drivers, shepherds, horse-traders, and mule-pack drivers whom we met on the way, just as we were interested in the sheepskin overcoats, strange hats, etc., which we found them wearing along with the usual cotton-padded garments. these cotton-padded clothes are much like those heavily padded bed-quilts ineptly called "comforts," and as the poor chinese in the colder sections of the empire cannot afford much fire in winter, they add one layer of cotton padding after another until it is difficult for them to waddle along. on the whole, the life and travel we found on our donkey-ride over the rough roads of nankou pass were biblical in their { } very simplicity and primitiveness. most of the men we meet come from away up in mongolia, where no railroad has yet gone, and the camels and the donkeys (the donkeys in most cases larger than those we rode) bring down on their backs the mongolian products--wool, hides, grain, etc.--and carry back coal, clothing, and the other simple supplies demanded by the rude peasantry of mongolia. we met several pack trains of donkeys, sometimes twenty-five or forty, i suppose, each carrying a heavy load of sacks on his back, or perhaps big, well-packed baskets or goods-boxes carefully balanced. a horse over here will tote about as much as a horse at home would pull. then there were several immense droves of sheep: in one drove two or three thousand, i estimated, and every sheep with a black face and a white body, so that the general effect was not unlike seeing a big bin of black-eyed peas. the chinese raise immense numbers of long-eared black hogs, too, and drive them to market loose in the same way that they drive their sheep. we also met two or three droves of mountain horses, a hundred or more to the drove. but it would have been well worth while to make the trip if we had gotten nothing else but the view of and from the great wall at the end of the journey. about two thousand miles of stone and brick, twenty-seven feet high, and wide enough on top for two carriages to drive abreast, this great structure, begun two thousand years ago to keep the wild barbarian northern tribes out of china, is truly "the largest building on earth," and one of the world's greatest wonders. it would be amazing if it wound only over plains and lowlands, but where we saw it this morning it climbed one mountain height after another until the topmost point towered far above us, dizzy, stupendous, magnificent. by what means the thousands and thousands of tons of rock and brick were ever carried up the sheer steep mountainsides is a question that must excite every traveller's wonder. certainly no one who has walked on top of the great wall, climbing among the clouds from one { } misty eminence to another, as we did to-day, can ever forget the experience. perhaps it was well enough, too, that the weather was not clear. the mists that hung about the mountain-peaks below and around us; the roaring wind that shepherded the clouds, now driving them swiftly before it and leaving in clear view for a minute peak after peak and valley after valley, the next minute brushing great fog-masses over wall and landscape and concealing all from view--all this lent an element of mystery and majesty to the experience not out of keeping with our thought of the long centuries through which this strange guard has kept watch around earth's oldest empire. dead, long dead and crumbled into dust, even when our christian era began, were the hands that fashioned these earlier brick and laid them in the mortar, and for many generations thereafter watchmen armed with bows and arrows rode along the battlements and towers, straining their eyes for sight of whatever enemy might be bold enough to try to cross the mighty barrier. however unwise the spirit in which the wall was built, we cannot but admire the almost matchless daring of the conception and the almost unparalleled industry of the execution. beside it the digging of our panama canal with modern machinery, engines, steam power and electricity, considered simply as a feat of herculean labor, is no longer a subject for boasting. to my mind, the very fact that the chinese people had the courage to conceive and attempt so colossal an enterprise is proof enough of genuine greatness. no feeble folk could even have planned such an undertaking. on this trip into the heart of china, however, i have noticed a number of things of decidedly practical value in addition to the merely curious things i have just reported. in the first place, i have been simply amazed to find that these chinese farmers around peking, nankou, and tien-tsin are far ahead of some of our farmers in the matter of horsepower help in plowing. { } coming up from peking to nankou, i found farmers in almost every field busy with their fall plowing or late grain sowing, and while there were dozens and dozens of three-horsepower plows, i saw only one or two one-horsepower plows on the whole trip. this is all the more surprising in view of the fact that labor is so cheap over here-- cents a day american money would be a good wage for farm hands--but evidently the farmers realize that although plow hands are cheap, they must have two or three horses in order to get the best results from the soil itself. one-horse plows do not put the land in good condition. with two, three, or four horses or donkeys (they use large donkeys for plowing, even if small ones for riding) they get the land in good condition in spite of the fact that they cannot get the good plows that any american farmer may buy. i rode donkey-back through some farming country yesterday and watched the work rather closely. the plows, like those in korea, have only one handle, but are much better in workmanship. here they are made by the village carpenter-blacksmith, and have a large steel moldboard in front, and below it a long, sharp, broad, almost horizontal point. the chinese farmers, it should also be observed in passing, fully realize the importance of land rolling and harrowing. it is no uncommon sight to see a man driving a three-horse harrow. it is also said that for hundreds of years the chinese have practised a suitable rotation of crops and have known the value of leguminous plants. nankou pass, china. { } xiii from peking to the yangtze-kiang i shall have to go back to peking some time. you must hurry out of the city, men tell you there, or else ere you know it the siren-like lure of the east will grip you irresistibly; and i felt in some measure the soundness of the counsel. the knowledge that each day the long trains of awkward-moving camels are winding their unhurried way from chien-men gate to the gate of the heavenly peace, the yellow-tiled roofs of the forbidden city gleaming ahead of them, while to the left are the faint gray-blue outlines of the western hills--all this will be to me a silent but perpetual invitation to go back. the very life in the streets presents a panorama of never-failing interest. one can never forget the throngs of chinese men in gowns and queues (the wives wear the trousers over here!), the nobles and officers in gorgeous silks and velvets; the fantastic head-dress of the manchu ladies, and the hobbling movements of the chinese women hampered by ruined feet; the ever-hurrying rickshaws with perspiring, pig-tailed coolies in the shafts; the heavy two-wheeled peking carts like half-sized covered wagons; the face of some fashionable foreign or native woman glimpsed through the glass windows of her sedan chair, eight runners bearing on their shoulders their human burden; the long lines of shop fronts with such a pleasing variety of decorative color as to make one wonder why artists have not made them famous; the uniformed soldiers from every nation on the earth to guard the various legations, and { } chinese soldiers with cropped hair and foreign clothing. the strange street noises, too, will linger in one's memory ever after: the clattering hoofs of fleet mongolian ponies, the jingling bells of the thousands of sturdy little saddle donkeys, the rattling of the big cowbells on the dusty camels, the clanging gong of a mandarin's carriage, outriders scurrying before and behind to bear testimony to his rank, and the sharp cries of peddlers of many kinds, their wares balanced in baskets borne from their shoulders. or perhaps there is a blaze in the street ahead of you. some man has died and his friends are burning a life-sized, paper-covered horse in the belief that it will be changed into a real horse to serve him in the beyond; and imitations of other things that might be useful to him are burned in the same way. or perhaps a marriage procession may pass. a dozen servants carry placards with emblems of the rank of the family represented by the bride or groom, numerous other servants bear presents, and the bride herself passes by concealed in a gorgeous sedan chair borne on the shoulders of six or eight coolies. fascinating as it is for its present-day interest, however, peking is even richer in historic interest. and by historic in china is not meant any matter of the last half-hour, such as columbus's discovery of america or the landing at plymouth rock; these things to the chinaman are so modern as to belong rather in the category of recent daily newspaper sensations along with the pinchot-ballinger controversy or the thaw trial. if he wishes something genuinely historic, he goes back three or four thousand years. for example, a friend of mine, at a little social gathering in new england some time ago, heard a young chinese student make a talk on his country. incidentally he was asked about a certain chinese custom. "yes,"' he answered, "that is our custom now, since we changed. but it has not always been so. we did the other way up to four or five centuries before christ." whereupon the audience, amazed at the utterly casual mention of an event two thousand { } years old as if it were a happening of yesterday, was convulsed in merriment, which the young chinaman was entirely unable to understand. when christ was born peking (or what is now peking, then bearing another name), having centuries before grown into eminence, had been destroyed, rebuilt, and was then entering upon its second youth. about the time of the last caesars it fell into the hands of the tartars, who gave place to the mongols after . it was during the reign of the mongol emperor, kublai khan, that marco polo visited his capital, then called cambulac. seventy-three years before columbus discovered america the emperor yung-loh, whose tomb i saw near nankou, built the great wall that surrounds the tartar city to this day--forty feet high, wide enough on top for four or five carriages to drive abreast, and thirteen miles around. yet the history which the foreigner in peking is likely to have most often in mind is really very recent. for it has been only ten years and a few months since the famous boxer outbreak. the widely current idea is that this boxer movement originated in anti-missionary sentiment, but this is not borne out by the facts. the late col. charles denby, long american minister to china, pointed out very clearly that the main cause was opposition to the land-grabbing policies of european nations. once started, however, it took the form of opposition to everything foreign--missionaries and non-missionaries alike. i passed the old roman catholic cathedral the other day in company with a friend who gave me reminiscences of the siege that sounded like echoes of the days of the martyrs; stories of chinese christian converts butchered like sheep by their infuriated fellow countrymen. when the pei-tang, in another part of the city, was finally rescued by foreign troops, the surviving christians and missionaries were dying of starvation; they had become mere wan, half-crazed skeletons, subsisting on roots and bark. the heroism shown by many of the chinese christian converts { } during this boxer uprising has enriched the history not only of the church, but of mankind; for what man of us is not inspired to worthier things by every high deed of martyrdom which a fellowman anywhere has suffered? into the pei-tang the boxers hurled arrow after arrow with letters attached offering immunity to the chinese converts if they would abandon their christian leaders, but not even starvation led one to desert. colonel denby estimated that in the whole empire , chinese christians were butchered and that only per cent of them abandoned their faith. a missionary told me the other day of one family who took refuge in a cave, but when finally smoked out by suffocating flames, refused life at the cost of denying their master, and went to death singing a hymn in chinese, "jesus is leading me." at taiyan-fu an especially touching incident occurred: five or six young girls, just in their teens, were about to be killed, when a leader intervened, declaring: "it is a pity to slaughter mere children," and urged them to recant. their only answer was: "kill us quickly, since that is your purpose; we shall not change." and they paid for their faith with their lives. i am writing this down on the yangtze-kiang (kiang means river in chinese), having boarded a steamer at hankow, the famous chinese industrial centre, about miles south of peking. about hankow i found farming much more primitive than that around peking, nankou, and tientsin. instead of the three and four horse plows i found in north china, the plowmen about hankow seem to rely chiefly on a single ox. the farms, too, are much smaller. no one here speaks of buying a "farm"; he buys a "field." in kwang-tung there is a saying that one sixth of an acre "will support one mouth." as nearly as i can find out, the average wages paid farm laborers is about cents (gold) a day. the average for all kinds of labor, a member of the emperor's grand council tells me, is about to cents mexican, or to cents gold a day. in forming a mental picture of a rural scene anywhere in { } china or japan there are three or four things that must always be kept in mind. one is that there are no fences between fields; i haven't seen a wooden or wire farm-fence since i left america. a high row or ridge separates one field from another, and nothing else. in the next place, there are no isolated farm-houses. the people live in villages, from ten to fifty farmhouses grouped together, and the laborers go out from their homes to the fields each morning and return at evening. the same system, it will be remembered, prevails in europe; and as population becomes denser and farms grow smaller in america, we shall doubtless attempt to group our farm homes also. even now, much more--vastly more--might be done in this respect if our farmers only had the plan in mind in building new homes. where three or four farms come near together, why should not the dwellings be grouped near a common centre? it would mean much for convenience and for a better social life. another notable difference from our own country is the absence of wooden buildings or of two-story buildings of any kind. in this part of china the farmhouse is made of mud bricks, or mud and reeds, or else of a mixture of mud and stone, and is usually surrounded by a high wall of the same material. again, there are no chimneys. while my readers are basking in the joyous warmth of an open fire these wintry nights they may reflect that the chinaman on this side of the earth enjoys no such comfort. enough fire to cook the scanty meals is all that he can afford. to protect themselves against cold, as i have already pointed out, the poor put on many thicknesses of cotton-padded cloth. the rich wear furs and woolens. when a coolie has donned the maximum quantity of cotton padding he is about as nearly bomb-proof as an armor-plated cruiser. certainly no ordinary beating would disturb him. at this time of the year (the late fall) farmers are busy plowing and harrowing. on my last sunday in peking i went out to the temple of agriculture, where each spring the emperor or prince regent comes and plows sixteen rows, the purpose { } being to bear testimony to the high honorableness of agriculture and its fundamental importance to the empire. this happens, as i have said, in early spring, but it is in late fall that chinese do most plowing. they are also busy now flailing grain on ancient threshing-floors of hard-baked earth, or grinding it in mills operated by a single donkey. in this part of china the mound-like graves of the millions--possibly billions--of the chinese dead are even more in evidence than in the northern provinces. let china last a few more thousand years with its present customs and the country will be one vast cemetery, and the people will have to move away to find land to cultivate. as not one grave in a thousand is marked by a stone of any kind, it would seem as if they would not be kept up, but the explanation is that each chinaman lives and dies hard by the bones of his ancestors. the care of their graves is one of life's most serious duties. even when john goes to america, half his fortune, if need be, will be used to bring his body back to the ancestral burying ground. in a land so given over to superstition i have no doubt that the most horrible disasters would also be expected as the penalty for interfering with any grave. it seems odd that a people who had a literature centuries before our anglo-saxon ancestors emerged from barbarism should now be the victims of superstitions almost as gross as those prevailing in africa; but such are the facts. chang chih-tung, who died a few months ago, was one of the most progressive and enlightened chinese statesmen of the last hundred years, but not even a man of his type could free himself from the great body of superstition handed down from generation to generation. in wuchang i crossed an amazingly steep, high hill known as "dragon hill," because of the chinese belief that a dragon inhabits it. this long hill divides the city into two parts; every day hundreds and sometimes possibly thousands of people must climb up one side and down the other in getting from one part of the town to another. therefore, when chang { } chih-tung was viceroy in hankow he decided that he would make a cut in this hill and save the people all this trouble. and he did. very shortly thereafter, however, he sickened of a painful abscess in his ear, and the chinese doctors whom he consulted were quick in pointing out the trouble. by making the cut in the hill, they told him, he had offended the earth dragon which inhabits it, and unless the cut were filled up chang might die and disaster might come upon the city. of course, there was nothing for him to do but to restore the ancient obstruction to travel, and so it remains to this day. in sight from dragon hill is another hill known as tortoise hill, supposed to be inhabited by a tortoise spirit or devil, and at its foot are some lakes in which it has long been said that the tortoise washes its feet. now these lakes are on property owned by the hanyang steel & iron works and they decided a few years ago that they would either drain off the water or else fill up the lakes so as to get more land. but before they got started the chinese civil authorities heard of it and notified the hanyang company that such a proceeding could not be tolerated. the tortoise would have nowhere to wash his feet, and would straightway bring down the wrath of heaven on all the community! it is from superstitions such as these that the schools must free the chinese before the way can be really cleared for the introduction of christianity. the teacher is as necessary as the preacher. and the task of getting the masses even to the point where they can read and write is supremely difficult. the language, it must be remembered, has no alphabet. each word is made not by joining several letters together, as with us, but by making a distinct character--each character an intricate and difficult combination of lines, marks, and dots. or perhaps the word may be formed by joining two distinct characters together. for example, to write "obedience" in chinese you write together the characters for "leaf" and "river," the significance being that true obedience is as trusting { } and unresisting as the fallen leaf on the river's current. my point is, however, that for each word a distinct group of marks (like mixed-up chicken tracks) must be piled together, and the task of remembering how to recognize and write the five thousand or more characters in the language would make an average american boy turn gray at the very thought. my friend doctor tenney, of the american legation in peking, asserts that at least five years of the average chinese pupil's school life might be saved if the language were based on an alphabet like ours instead of on such arbitrary word-signs. there is one thing that must be said in favor of the chinese system of education, however, and that is the emphasis it has always laid on moral or ethical training. the teaching, too, seems to have been remarkably effective. take so basic a matter as paying one's debts, for example: it is a part of the chinaman's religion to get even with the world on every chinese new year, which comes in february. if he fails to "square up" at this time he "loses face," as his expressive phrase has it. he is a bad citizen and unpopular. consequently all sorts of things may be bought cheaper just before the new year than any other time. every man is willing to make any reasonable sacrifice, selling his possessions at a great discount if necessary, rather than have a debt against him run over into the new period--an excellent idea for america! i do not know whether confucianism is responsible for this particular policy, but at any rate the fact remains that outside the bible the world has never known a more sublime moral philosophy than that of confucius. it means much, therefore, that every chinese pupil must know the maxims and principles of the great sage by heart. moreover, as confucius did not profess to teach spiritual truth, the missionaries in china are fast coming to realize that it is both unnecessary and foolish to urge the people to abandon confucianism. the proper policy is to tell the chinese, "hold on to all that is good and true in confucius. there is very little in his teachings that is { } in conflict with religion, and christian leaders now recognize him as one of the greatest moral forces the world has known. but to the high moral teaching of the chinese master you must add now the moral teachings of christianity and, more essential still, the great body of spiritual truth which confucianism lacks." the grand old man among chinese missionaries, dr. w. a. p. martin, who has been in the work since , said to me in peking, "some of the best christians are now the best confucianists." confucianism, as any one can see by reading the books, is no more a substitute for christianity than proverbs is for st. john's gospel. as doctor brewster, another missionary, says, "we do not ask an american scholar to renounce plato to become a christian; why should we ask a chinaman to renounce confucius?" confucius lived five centuries before christ, and at his old home in shantung are the graves alike of his descendants and his ancestors--the oldest family burying ground in the world. "no monarch on earth can trace back his lineage by an unbroken chain through so many centuries." in peking i was so fortunate as to form a friendship with a descendant of confucius of the seventy-fifth generation--mr. kung hsiang koh--a promising and gifted senior in the imperial college of languages. at my request he inscribed a scroll for me in beautiful chinese characters, representing one of my favorite quotations from his world-famous ancestor. i give an english translation herewith: "szema-new asked about the superior man. the master said, 'the superior man is without anxiety or fear.' "'being without anxiety or fear,' said new, 'does this constitute what we should call the superior man?' "the master replied, 'when a man looks inward and finds no guilt there, why should he grieve? or what should he fear?'" on board _s. s. kutwo_, yangtze river, china. { } xiv sidelights on chinese character and industry having mentioned some of the good points of john chinaman (and he has many excellent points), it is also necessary to point out some of his shortcomings. the trouble with john is that he had some tiptop ancestors, but he fell into the habit of looking backward at them so continuously that he has failed, in recent centuries, to make any further progress. he had a civilization and a literature when our white ancestors were wearing skins; but there he stopped, so that we have not only caught up with him, but have passed him almost immeasurably. the result is that now china is waking up to find that a great number of ancient abuses, both in public and private life, must be sloughed off if she is to become a genuinely healthy modern nation. of what has been accomplished with reference to opium i have already written at length. but this is only a beginning. with the opium evil under foot, china will still have other dragons to slay--if i may use the term dragon in an evil sense in a country whose national emblem is the dragon. for one thing, slavery still exists in china. a friend of mine in peking told me of an acquaintance, an educated chinaman, who bought a young girl two years ago for two hundred taels (about $ gold), and says now he would not take one thousand two hundred (about $ gold). already, however, a vigorous sentiment for the complete abolition of slavery has { } developed over the empire. about six months ago an imperial edict was issued prohibiting slave trading, decreeing that child-slaves should become free on reaching the age of twenty-five, and opening ways for older slaves to buy their freedom. the peons or slaves of the manchu princes were, however, excepted from the terms of this edict. foot-binding also continues a grievous and widespread evil. formerly every respectable chinese father bound the feet of all his girls. fathers who did not were either degraded men, reckless of public opinion, or so bitterly poor as to require the services of their daughters in unremitting manual labor. consequently, a natural foot on a woman became a badge of social inferiority: a chinaman of prominence wouldn't marry her. now, however, many of the wealthier upper-class chinamen in the cities are letting their girls grow up with unbound feet, and this custom will gradually spread until the middle and lower classes generally, seeing that fashion no longer decrees such a barbaric practice, will also abandon it. the progress of the reform, however, is by no means so rapid as could be wished. a father with wealth may risk getting a husband for his daughter even though she has natural feet, but ambitious fathers among the common people fear to take such risks. an american lady whose home i visited has a servant who asked for two or three weeks' leave of absence last summer, explaining that he wished to bind the feet of his baby daughter. my friend, knowing all the cruelty of the practice, and having a heart touched by memories of the heart-rending cries with which the poor little creatures protest for weeks against their suffering, pleaded with the servant to let the child's feet alone. but to no effect. "big feet no b'long pretty," he said, and went home unconvinced. "the feet," according to the brief statement of ex-minister charles denby, "are bandaged at an age varying from three to five years. the toes are bent back until they penetrate the sole of the foot, and are tightly bound in that position. the { } parts fester and the toes grow into the foot." the result is that women grow up with feet the same size as when they were children, and the flesh withers away on the feet and below the knees. throughout life the fashion-cursed girl and woman must hobble around on mere stumps. when you first see a chinese woman with bound feet you are reminded of the old pictures of pan, the imaginary greek god with the body of a man and the feet of a goat. the resemblance to goat's feet is remarkably striking. as the women are unable to take proper exercise--except with great pain--there is little doubt that their physical strength has been seriously impaired by this custom, and that the stamina of the whole race as well has suffered in consequence. whenever a foreigner--it is the white man who is "the foreigner" over here--begins a comparison or contrast between the chinese and the japanese, he is sure to mention among the first two or three things the vast difference in moral standards with regard to family life. the cleanness of the family life in china, he will tell you, is one of the great moral assets of the race, while the contrary conditions largely prevailing in japan would seem to threaten ultimate disaster to the people. as in most asiatic countries, however, there is in china no very definite moral sentiment against a man's marrying more than one wife. in fact, it is regarded not as a question of morals but of expense. it is one of the privileges of the chinaman who can afford it, and the no. wife is often glad for her husband to take a no. and a no. wife, because the secondary wives are somewhat under her authority and relieve her of much work and worry. a few months ago a chinaman in hankow had a very capable no. wife who was about to quit him to work for some missionaries, whereupon wife no. , wife no. , and the much-worried husband all joined in a protest against the household's losing so capable a woman. all these three wives were in subjection to the husband's mother, however, until the old lady took cholera last year, and { } in a day or so was dead. the prevalence of awful scourges, such as cholera and bubonic plague, is another evil which the new china must conquer. these diseases are due mainly, of course, to unsanitary ways of living, and when you have been through a typical chinese city you wonder that anybody escapes. the streets are so narrow that with outstretched arms you can almost reach from side to side, and the unmentionable foulness of them often smells to heaven. moreover, if you have the idea that the typical chinaman is content to live only on rice, prepare to abandon it. hogs are more common in a village of chinamen than dogs in a village of negroes; and, in some cases, almost equally at home in the houses. i saw a chinese woman in kiukiang feeding a fat porker in the front room, while, in the narrow streets around, hogs and dogs were wandering together or lying contentedly asleep in the sunshine by the canal bank. in fact, the ancient chinese character for "home" is composed of two characters--"pig" and "shelter"--a home being thus represented as a pig under a shelter! small wonder that cholera is frequent, smallpox a scourge, and leprosy in evidence here and there. quite recently a couple of mission teachers of my denomination have died of smallpox: they "didn't believe in vaccination." shanghai, as i write this, is just recovering from a bubonic plague scare. there were one or two deaths from the plague among the chinese, whereupon the foreigners put into force such drastic quarantine regulations that the chinese rebelled with riots. the whites then put their cannon into position, the volunteer soldiers were called out, and it looked at one time as if i should find the city in a state of bloody civil war, but fortunately the trouble seems now to have blown over. unfortunately the ignorant chinese put a great deal more faith in patent medicines and patent medicine fakirs than they do in approved sanitary measures. it is interesting to find that american patent medicines discredited at home by { } the growing intelligence of our people have now taken refuge in the orient, and are coining the poor chinaman's ignorance into substantial shekels. worst of all, some of the religious papers over here are helping them to delude the unintelligent, just as too many of our church papers at home are doing. in shanghai i picked up a weekly publication printed in chinese and issued by the christian literature society, and asked what was the advertisement on the back. "dr. williams's pink pills for pale people," was the answer. one of the most peculiar things about china is the existence of almost unlimited official corruption side by side with high standards of honesty and morality in ordinary business or private life. i have already referred to the system of "squeeze" or graft by which almost every official gets the bulk of his earnings. in shanghai it is said that the taotai, or chief official there, paid $ , (gold) for an office for which the salary is only $ (gold) a year. against this concrete evidence of official corruption place this evidence of a high sense of honor in private life. a young chinaman, employed in a position of trust in hankow, embezzled some money. the company, knowing that his family was one of some standing, notified the father. he and his sons, brothers of the thief, went after the young fellow and killed him with an ax. the community as a whole approved the action, because in no other way could the father free his family from the disgrace and ostracism it would have incurred by having an embezzler in it. { } [illustration: fashionable chinese dinner party.] [illustration: how lumber is sawed in the orient--there are practically no saw mills.] { } [illustration: a quotation from confucius.] this is the upper part of a scroll kindly written for the author by mr. kung hsiang koh (or alfred e. kung as he signs himself in english). mr. kung is a descendant of confucius (kung fut-zu) of the seventy-fifth generation, and the complete quotation of which the scroll is a reproduction in chinese characters reads as follows: "ssu-ma niu asked for a definition of the princely man." "the master said: 'the princely man is one who knows neither grief nor fear.' 'absence of grief and fear?' said niu, 'is this the mark of a princely man?' the master said, 'if a man look into his heart and find no guilt there, why should he grieve? or of what should he be afraid?'" { continued} the yangtze river trip from hankow to shanghai, mentioned in my last letter, i found very interesting. we were three days going the miles. the yangtze is the third largest river in the world and navigable miles beyond hankow, or miles in all. it would be navigable much farther but for a series of waterfalls. nearly thirty miles wide toward the mouth, its muddy current discolors the ocean's blue forty miles out in the pacific, i am told. in fact, i think { } it must have been that distance that i last saw the great turgid stream off the shanghai harbor. even as far up as hankow the river becomes very rough on windy days. consequently, when i wished to go across to wuchang, i found that the motor boat couldn't go, so tempestuous were the waves, but a rather rickety looking little native canoe called a "sampan," with tattered sails, bobbing up and down like a cork, finally landed me safely across the three or four miles of sea-like waves. all the way from hankow to peking one encounters all sorts of chinese junks and other odd river-craft. in many cases they look like the primitive greek and roman boats of which one sees pictures in the ancient histories. the chinese are excellent sailors and manage their boats very skilfully. the greatest canal that the world knows was begun by them in the time of nebuchadnezzar and finished thirteen centuries ago. until very recently, however, the chinese have not wanted railways. coming from hankow to shanghai i passed in sight of the site of the old woosung-shanghai railway, the first one built in china; but before it got well started the people tore it up and threw it into the river. in shanghai i met his excellency wu ting fang, formerly minister to the united states, and he told me of his troubles in building, under li hung chang's directions, what turned out to be the first permanent railway in china. this was less than twenty-five years ago. li hung chang said to mr. wu: "if we ask the authorities to let us build a railway, they'll refuse, so i am going to take the responsibility myself. the only way to overcome the prejudice against railways is to let the people see that a railroad isn't the evil they think it is." accordingly, mr. wu set to work on the tongshan railway. he built first ten miles, then twenty more. then as the road was working well, and its usefulness demonstrated, he and li hung chang thought they might get permission from the throne to construct a line from tientsin to peking. successful in this effort, they went ahead with the survey and { } imported from america the materials for building the line--and then came a new edict forbidding them to proceed! the matter had been taken up by the viceroys and governors, and per cent, of them had opposed building the line! now, less than twenty-five years later, john chinaman is calling for railroads in almost every non-railroad section, and the railroads already built are paying handsome dividends. everybody seems to travel. besides the first-class and second-class coaches, most trains carry box-cars, very much like cattle-cars and without seats of any kind, for third-class passengers. and i don't recall having seen one yet that wasn't chock full of chinamen, happy as a similar group of americans would be in new automobiles. a missionary along the line between hankow and peking says that he now makes a -mile trip in five hours which formerly took him nineteen days. before the railway came he had to go by wheelbarrow, ten miles a day, his luggage on one side the wheel, and himself on the other. thousands of these wheelbarrows, doing freight and passenger business, are in use in shanghai and the regions roundabout. a frame about three feet wide and four feet long is built over and around the wheel, and a coolie will carry as much as half a ton on one of them. along the yangtze a considerable quantity of cotton is grown, and i went out into some of the fields in the neighborhood of shanghai. the stalks were dead, of course, and in some cases women were pulling them up for fuel, but i could see that the chinese is a poorer variety than our american cotton, and is cultivated more poorly. instead of planting in rows as we do, the peasants about shanghai broadcast in "lands" eight or ten feet wide, as we sow wheat and oats. about shanghai they do not use the heavier two and three horse plows i found about peking; consequently the land is poorly broken to begin with, and the cultivation while the crop is growing amounts to very little. no sort of seed selection or variety breeding has ever been attempted. no wonder that { } the stalks are small, the bolls small and few in number, and the staple also very short. from my observation i should say that with better varieties and better cultivation china could easily double her yields without increasing her acreage. there is likely to be some increase in acreage, too, however, because farmers who have had to give up poppy culture are in search of a new money crop, and in most cases will take up cotton. as i have said before, the coolie class wear padded clothes all winter, and as they have no fire in their houses, they naturally have to wear several suits even of the padded sort. i remember a speech congressman richmond p. hobson made several years ago in which he spoke of having seen chinamen with clothes piled on, one suit on top of another, until they looked like walking cotton bales. some of his hearers may have thought this an exaggeration, but if so, i wish to give him the support of my own observation and that of a preacher. as a chinaman came in the street-car in shanghai friday my missionary host remarked: "that fellow has on four or five suits already, and he'll put on more as the weather gets colder." mr. currie, the english superintendent of the international cotton mills at shanghai, told me as i went through his factory that the chinese men and women he employs average about cents a day (american money), but that from his experience in england he would say that english labor at cents or a dollar a day is cheaper. "you'd have more for your money at the week's end. one white girl will look after four sides of a ring spinning frame; it takes six chinese, as you see. then, again, the one white girl would oil her own machine; the chinese will not. in the third place, in england two overseers would be enough for this room, while here we must have seven." hong kong. { } xv farewell to china with this letter we bid farewell to china. when i see it again it will doubtless be greatly changed. already i have come too late to see poppy fields or opium dens; too late to see the old-time cells in which candidates for office were kept during their examination periods; too late, i am told, to find the flesh of cats or dogs for sale in the markets. if i had waited five years longer, it is likely that i should not have found the men wearing their picturesque queues and half-shaven heads; before five years, too, a parliament and a cabinet will have a voice in the government in which until now the one potent voice has been that of the emperor, the "son of heaven" divinely appointed to rule over the middle kingdom. all over the country the people are athrill with a new life. unless present signs fail, the century will not be old before the dragon empire, instead of being a country hardly consulted by the powers about matters affecting its own interests, will itself become one of the powers and will have to be consulted about affairs in other nations. be it said, to begin with, that i am just back from canton, the most populous city in china and supposedly one of the half dozen most populous in the whole world. as no census has ever been taken, it is impossible to say how many people it really does contain. the estimates vary all the way from a million and a half to three millions. half a million people, it is said, live on boats in the river. some of them are born, marry, grow old, and die without ever having known a home { } on land. and these boats, it should be remembered, are no larger than a small bedroom at home. i saw many of them yesterday afternoon, and i also saw many of the women managing them. the women boatmen--or boat-women--of canton are famous. think of a city of two or three million people without a vehicle of any kind--wagon, buggy, carriage, street-car, automobile, or even a rickshaw! and yet this is what canton appears to be. i didn't see even a wheelbarrow. the streets are too narrow for any travel except that of pedestrians, and the only men not walking are those borne on the shoulders of men who are walking. my guide (who rejoices in the name of ah cum john) and i went through in sedan chairs--a sort of chair with light, narrow shafts before and behind. these shafts fit over the heads and bare shoulders of three coolies, or chinese laborers, and it is these human burden-bearers who showed us the sights of canton. to get an idea of what the city is like, fancy an area of about thirty square miles crowded with houses as thick as they can stand, every house jam up against its neighbors, with only walls between--no room for yards or parks or driveways--and these houses dense with people! then punch into these square miles of houses a thousand winding alleys, no one wide enough to be called a street, and fill up these alleys also with hurrying, perspiring, pig-tailed chinamen. there are no stores, shops or offices such as would look familiar to an american, but countless thousands of chinese shops wide open to the streets, with practically no doors in evidence. such is canton: a human hive of industry: a maze of labyrinthine alleys crowded with people, the alleys or streets too narrow to get the full light of day! outside this crowded city of canton's living masses is the even larger and more crowded city of canton's dead. from the highest point on the city wall my guide pointed out an unbroken cemetery extending for ten miles: the hills dotted { } with mounds until they have the appearance of faces pitted by smallpox. for the chinaman, however unimportant in actual life, becomes a man of importance as soon as he dies, and his grave must be carefully looked after. the finest place i saw in canton was the mortuary where the dead bodies of wealthy chinamen are kept until burial. the handsome coffins i saw ranged in value from $ to $ mexican, or half these amounts american money. the lacquered surfacing accounts for the high cost. nor are these departed celestials kept here for a few days only. sometimes it is a matter of several years, my guide told me, the geomancers or fortune-tellers being employed all this time in finding a suitable site for a grave. these miserable scoundrels pretend that the soul of the dead man will not rest unless he is buried in just the right spot and in just the right kind of soil. perhaps no professional man in china earns as much as these fakirs. sometimes it happens that after a man has been dead two or three years his family suffers a series of misfortunes. a frequent explanation in such cases is that the wrong site has been chosen for the dead man's burial place. another geomancer is then hired and told to find a new grave where the soul will rest in peace. of course, he charges a heavy fee. in one $ coffin i saw was the body of a wealthy young chinaman who died last spring. three times a day a new cup of tea is placed on the table for his spirit, and on the walls of the room were scores of silk scrolls, fifteen feet long, expressing the sympathy of friends and relatives. around the coffin, too, were almost life-size images of servants, and above it a heap of gilded paper to represent gold. when the geomancers finally find a suitable grave for the poor fellow he will be buried, and these paper servants and this paper gold will be burned, in the belief that they will be converted into real servants and real gold for his use in the spirit world. { } a friend of mine in peking who saw the funeral of the late emperor and empress dowager told me some interesting stories of the truly oriental ceremonies then celebrated. tons of clothes and furs were burned, and vast quantities of imitation money. a gorgeous imitation boat, natural size and complete in every detail from cabins to anchors, steamer chairs, and ample decks, was fitted up at a cost of $ , american money, and burned. furthermore, as my friend was coming home one evening, he was surprised to see in an unexpected place, some distance ahead, a full regiment of soldiers, gorgeous in new uniforms, and hundreds of handsome cavalry horses. getting closer, what was his amazement to find that these natural-size soldiers and steeds were only make-believe affairs to be burned for the dead monarchs! to maintain their rank in the beyond they must have at least one full regiment at their command! since we are on such gruesome subjects we might as well finish with them now by considering the punishments in china. i went out to the execution grounds in canton, but it happened to be an off-day when nobody was due to suffer the death sentence. i did see the cross, though, on which the worst criminals are stretched and strangled before they are beheaded. the bodies of these malefactors are not allowed ordinary burial, but quick-limed, i believe. there were human bones beside the old stone wall where i walked, and when a chinese brat lifted for a moment a sort of jute-bagging cover from a barrel the topmost skull of the heap grinned ghastly in the sunlight. the cruelty of chinese punishments is a blot upon her civilization. when i was in shanghai a friend of mine told me of having been to a little town where two men had just been executed for salt-smuggling. salt is a government monopoly in china, or at least is subject to a special revenue duty, so that salt smuggling is about equivalent to blockading whiskey in america. { } recognized forms of punishment are death by starvation and "death by the seventy-two cuts"--gradually chopping a man to pieces as if he were a piece of wood. this latter punishment is for treason. to let a bad criminal be hanged instead of beheaded is regarded as a favor, the explanation being that the man who has his head cut off is supposed to be without a head in the hereafter. the worst feature of the whole system is the treatment of prisoners to make them confess. the chinese theory is that no one should be punished unless he confesses with his own mouth. consequently the most brutal, sickening tortures are practised to extort confession, and, in the end, thousands and thousands of innocent men, no doubt, rather than live longer in miseries far worse than death, have professed crimes of which they were innocent. but let us turn now to happier topics--say to an illustration of chinese humor. very well; here is the sort of story that tickles a chinaman: it is one they tell themselves: a chinaman had a magic jar. and when you think of a jar here don't think of one of the tiny affairs such as americans use for preserves and jams. the jar here means a big affair about half the size of a hogshead: i bathed in one this morning. it was in such jars that ali baba's forty thieves concealed themselves. well, this magic jar had the power of multiplying whatever was put into it. if you put in a suit of clothes, behold, you could pull out perhaps two or three dozen suits! if you put in a silver dollar, you might get out a hundred silver dollars. there doesn't seem to have been any regularity about the jar's multiplying properties. sometimes it might multiply by two, while again it might multiply by a hundred. at any rate, the owner of the magic receptacle was getting rich fairly fast, when a greedy judge got word of the strange affair somehow. accordingly he made some kind of false charge against the man and made him bring the jar into court. { } then the judge pretended that he couldn't decide about the case, or else pretended that the man needed punishment for something, and so wrongly refused to give the citizen's property back. instead the magistrate took the jar into his own home and himself began to get rich on its labors. { } [illustration: the great wall of china.] the building of the great wail, considered simply as a feat of herculean labor, leaves us no room to boast over the panama canal. [illustration: chinese woman's ruined feet.] the lower picture shows the terrible deformity produced by foot-binding. { } [illustration: chinese school children.] the upper picture suggests a word about the amazing fertility of the oriental races--the japanese, for example, increasing from their birth-rate alone as fast as the united states from its birth-rate plus its enormous immigration. [illustration: the american consulate at antung.] a great need of america in the east is better consular buildings. witness this one at antung. { continued} now, when this happened, the friends of the mistreated man began to murmur. failing to do anything with the magistrate, they appealed to the magistrate's father--for though you may be fifty or seventy years old in china, if your father is living you are as much subject to his orders as if you were only ten; this is the case just as long as you both live. but when the father spoke about the complaints of the people the magistrate lied about the jar somehow, but not in a way entirely to deceive the old fellow. he decided to do some investigating, and went blundering around into a dark room in search of the jar, and before he saw what he was doing came upon it and fell into it. whereupon he cried to his son to pull him out. the son did come, but when he pulled out one father, behold there was another still in the jar--and then another and another and another. he pulled out one father after another till the whole room was full of fathers, and then he filled up the yard with fathers, and had six or eight standing like chickens on the stone wall before the accursed old jar would quit! and to have left one father in there would naturally have been equivalent to murder. so this was the punishment of the unjust magistrate. he had, of course, to support all the dozens of aged fathers he pulled out of the jar (a chinaman must support his father though he starve himself), and it is to be supposed that he used up all the wealth he had unjustly piled up, and had to work night and day as well all the rest of his life. of course the jar, too, had to be returned to its owner, and in this way the whole community learned of the magistrate's unfairly withholding it. this story is interesting not only for its own sake, but for { } the light it sheds on chinese life--the relations of father and son; the unjust oppression of the people by the officials in a land where the citizen is without the legal rights fundamental in american government; and, lastly, the "arabian nights" like flavor of this typically chinese piece of fiction. one of the funny things among the many funny things i have encountered in china is the peculiar way of buying or selling land, as reported to me by rev. dr. r. t. bryan. if you buy land from a chinaman, about shanghai at least, without knowing the custom of the country, you may have to make him three additional payments before you get through with him. for, according to the custom, after the first payment he will give you a deed, but after a little while will come around sighing, regretting that he sold the land and complaining that you didn't pay enough. accordingly, you will pay him a little more, and he will give you what is called a "sighing paper," certifying that the "sighing money" has been paid. a few days or weeks pass and he turns up again. you didn't pay him quite enough before. therefore, you make another small payment and he gives you the "add-a-little-more" paper showing that the "add-a-little-more" money has been paid. last of all, you make what is called the "pull-up-root" payment, and the land is safely yours. of course, the impatient foreigner hasn't time for this sort of thing, consequently he pays enough more in the beginning to cancel these various dramatic performances. doctor bryan's deed certifies that the "sighing money," "add-a-little-more money," and "pull-up-root money" have all been settled to start with. "pidgin english," or the corruptions of english words and phrases by means of which foreigners and chinese exchange ideas, is also very amusing. "pidgin english" means "business english," "pidgin" representing the chinaman's attempt to say "business." some of the chinese phrases are very useful, such as "maskee" for our "never mind." other good phrases { } are "chop-chop" for "hurry up," "chin-chin" for "greeting," and "chow-chow" for "food." "have you had plenty chow-chow?" my good-natured chinese elevator-boy in shanghai used to say to me after dinner; and the bright-eyed little brats at the temples in peking used to explain their failure to do anything forbidden by saying they should get "plenty bamboo chow-chow"! bamboos are used for switches (as well as for ten thousand other things), and "bamboo chow-chow" means the same thing to the chinese boy as "hickory tea" to an american boy! a scotch fellow-passenger was telling me the other day of the saying that "the scotchman keeps the sabbath day, and every other good thing he can lay his hands on." now, the chinaman, unlike the scotchman, doesn't keep the sabbath, but he does live up to all the requirements of the second clause of the proverb. nothing goes to waste in china except human labor, of which enough is wasted every year to make a whole nation rich, simply because it is not aided by effective implements and machinery. the bottles, the tin cans, the wooden boxes, the rags, the orange peels--everything we throw away--is saved. and the coolies work from early morn till late at night and every day in the week. their own religion does not teach them to observe the seventh day, and this requirement of christianity, in china as well as in japan, is regarded as a great hardship upon its converts. buddhism in china, as in japan, it may also be observed just here, is now only a hideous mixture of superstition and fraud. as i found believers in the japanese temples rubbing images of men and bulls to cure their own pains, so in the great buddhist temple at canton i found the fat buddha's body rubbed slick in order to bring flesh to thin supplicants, while one of the chief treasures of the temple is a pair of "fortune sticks." if the chinese buddhist wishes to undertake any new task or project, he first comes to the priest and tries out its advisability with these "fortune sticks." if, when dropped to the { } floor, they lie in such a position as to indicate good luck, he goes ahead; otherwise he is likely to abandon the project. let me close this chapter by noting a remark made to me by dr. timothy richard, one of the most eminent religious and educational workers in the empire. "do you know what has brought about the change in china?" he asked me one day in peking. "well, i'll tell you: it is a comparative view of the world. twenty years ago the chinese did not know how their country ranked with other countries in the elements of national greatness. they had been told that they were the greatest, wisest, and most powerful people on earth, and they didn't care to know what other countries were doing. since then, however, they have studied books, have sent their sons to foreign colleges and universities, and they have found out in what particulars china has fallen behind other nations. now they have set out to remedy these defects. the comparative view of the world is what is bringing about the remaking of china." in china, no doubt, the men who have brought the people this "comparative view of the word" were criticised sometimes for presuming to suggest that any other way might be better than china's way; but they kept to their work--and have won. doctor richard himself did much effective service by publishing a series of articles and diagrams showing how china compared with other countries in area, population, education, wealth, revenue, military strength, etc. such comparisons are useful for america as a country, and for individual states and sections as well. hong kong, china. { } xvi what i saw in the philippines of the cruelty of chinese punishments i have already had something to say, but there is at least one thing that should be said for the chinese officials in this connection: no matter how heinous his crime, they have never sent a criminal from hong kong to manila in an indo-china boat in the monsoon and typhoon season. dante could have found new horrors for the "inferno" in the voyage as i made it. from saturday morning till sunday night, while the storm was at its height, the waves beat clean over the top of our vessel. a thousand times it rolled almost completely to one side, shivered, trembled, and recovered itself, only to yield again to the wrath and fury of mountain-like waves hurled thundering against it and over it. the crack where the door fitted over the sill furnished opening enough to flood my cabin. in spite of the heat not even a crack could be opened at the top of the window until monday morning. a bigger ship a few hours ahead of us found the sea in an even more furious mood. the captain stayed on the bridge practically without sleep three days and nights, going to bed, spent with fatigue and watching, as soon as he came at last into sight of manila. two weeks ago the captain of another ship came into port so much used up that he resigned and gave his first mate command of the vessel, while still another vessel has just limped into manila disabled after buffeting the storm for a brief period. { } at any rate, the trip is over now, and i write this in manila, with its tropical heat and vegetation, its historic associations, its strange mixture of savage, spanish, and american influences. the pasig river, made famous in the war days of ' , flows past my hotel, and beautiful manila bay, glittering in the fierce december sunlight, recalls memories of dewey and our navy. but the moss-green walls about the old spanish city remind us of days of romance and tragedy more fascinating than any of the events of our own generation. in the days when spain made conquest of the world these streets were laid out, and the statues of her sovereigns, imperious and imperial, still stand here to remind us that nations, like men, are mortal, and that for follies or mistakes a people no less surely than an individual must pay the price. nor let our own proud america, boasting of her greater area and richer resources, think she may ignore the lessons the history of her predecessors here may teach. the statue of bourbon don carlos in his royal robe that stands amid the perennial green of the cathedral park--it may well bring our american officers who look out daily upon it, and the other americans who come here, a feeling not of pride but of profound and reverent humility: "god of our fathers, known of old. lord of our far-flung battle-line. beneath whose awful hand we hold dominion over palm and pine. judge of the nations, spare us yet, lest we forget, lest we forget!" in order to see what the philippine country looks like, i left manila thursday and made the long, hot trip to daguban, travelling through the provinces of rizal, bulacan, pampanga, tarlac, and pangasinan. the first four of these are known as tagalog provinces; the fifth is inhabited by ilocanos and pampangans. three dialects or languages are spoken by the { } tribes in the territory covered. not far beyond daguban are savage dog-eating, head-hunting tribes; taos, or peasants, buy dogs around daguban and sell to these savages at good profits. the provinces i travelled through are typical of filipinoland generally. rather sparsely settled, only the smaller part of the land is under cultivation, the rest grown up in horse-high tigbao or tampa grass, or covered with small forest trees. among trees the feathery, fern-like foliage of the bamboo is most in evidence; but the broad-leaved banana ranks easily next. the high topknot growth of the cocoanut palm and the similar foliage of the tall-shanked papaya afford a spectacle unlike anything we see at home. about daguban especially many cocoanuts are grown, and the clumps of trees by the agno river reminded me of the old bible pictures of the river nile in the time of pharaoh--especially when i looked at the plowing going on around them. for the filipino's plow is modelled closely on the old egyptian implement, and hasn't been much changed. a properly crooked small tree or limb serves for a handle, another crooked bough makes the beam, and while there is in most cases a steel-tipped point, some of the poorer farmers have plows made entirely of wood. a piece of wood bent like the letter u forms the hames; another piece like u with the prongs pulled wide apart serves as a singletree. then, with two pieces of rope connecting primitive hame and single-tree, the filipino's harness is complete. before going into any further description of the plows, however, let us get our picture of the typical country on the island of luzon as i saw it on this hot december day. great fields of rice here and there, ripe for the harvest, and busy, perspiring little brown men and women cutting the crop with old-fashioned knives and sickles; the general appearance not unlike an american wheat or oat harvest in early summer. bigger fields of head-high sugarcane at intervals, the upper two feet green, the blades below yellow and dry. some young corn, some of it tasselling, some that will not be in tassel before the last of { } january. some fields of peanuts. here and there a damp low-ground and a sluggish river. boats on the rivers: small freight boats of a primitive type and long canoes hewed out of single logs. most striking of all are the houses in which the people live, clustered in villages, as are farmhouses in almost every part of the world except in america. surrounded in most cases by the massive luxuriance of a banana grove, the filipino's hut stands on stilts as high as his head, and often higher. one always enters by a ladder. in most instances there are two rooms, the larger one perhaps x feet, and a sort of lean-to adjoining, through which the ladder comes. a one-horse farmer's corn crib is about the size of the larger filipino home. and it is made, of course, not of ordinary lumber, but of bamboo--the ever-serviceable bamboo--which, as my readers probably know, strongly resembles the fishing-pole reeds that grow on our river banks. the sills, sleepers, and scaffolding of the house are made of larger bamboo trunks, six inches or less in diameter; the split trunks form the floor; the sides are of split bamboo material somewhat like that of which we make our hamper baskets and split-bottom chairs; the roofing is of _nipal_, which looks much like very long corn shucks. in short, imagine an enormous hamper basket, big enough to hold six or eight hogsheads, put on stilts, and covered with shucks: such in appearance is the filipino's house. around it are banana trees bent well toward the ground by the weight of the one great bunch at the top, and possibly a few bamboo and cocoanut trees. for human ornaments there are rather small and spare black-haired, black-eyed, brown-skinned men, women, and children in clothing rather gayly colored--as far as it goes: in some cases it doesn't go very far. the favorite color with the women-folk is a sort of peach-blossom mixture of pink and white or a bandanna-handkerchief combination of red and white. bare feet are most common, { } but many wear slippers, and not a few are now slaves enough to fashion to wear american shoes. the men, except the very poorest, wear white, nor is it a white worn dark by dirt such as koreans wear, but a spotless, newly washed white. nearly every filipino seems to have on clothes that were laundered the day before. a sort of colored gauze is frequently the only outer garment worn by either men or women on the upper part of the body. { } [illustration: a filipino's home.] nearly all the native houses i saw in the rural philippines were of this type--about this size, set on stilts, and constructed of similar material. the scene is not quite natural-looking, however, without a banana grove and a fighting cock or two. { } [illustration: the carabao, the work-stock of the filipinos.] [illustration: an old spanish cathedral.] of all the native oriental peoples, the filipinos alone have become thoroughly christianized. the great majority are catholics. { continued} the beast of burden in the philippines, the ungainly, slow-moving animal that pulls the one-handled plows and the two-wheeled carts, is the _carabao_. the _carabao_, or water buffalo, is about the size of an ordinary american ox, and much like the ox, but his hide is black, thick, and looks almost as tough as an alligator's; his horns are enormous, and he has very little hair. perhaps his having lived in the water so much accounts for the absence of the hair. even now he must every day submerge himself contentedly in deep water, must cover his body like a pig in a wallow: this is what makes life worth living for him. furthermore, when he gives word that he is thirsty mr. tao (the peasant) must not delay watering him; in this hot climate thirst may drive him furiously, savagely mad, and the plowman may not be able to climb a cocoanut tree quick enough to escape hurt. i saw quite a few goats, some cattle, a few hogs, and, of course, some dogs. much as the filipino may care for his dog, however, he always reserves the warmest place in his heart for nothing else but his gamecock, his fighting rooster. cock-fighting, and the gambling inseparably connected with it, are his delight, and no southern planter ever regarded a favorite fox-hound with more pride and affection than the filipino bestows on his favorite chicken. in grassy yards you will see the rooster tied by one leg and turned out to exercise, as we would stake a cow to graze, while his owner watches and fondles him. i shall never forget a gray-headed, bright-eyed, barefooted old codger i saw near tarlac stroking the feathers of his bird, while in his eyes was the pride as of a woman over { } her first-born. a man often carries his gamecock with him as a negro would carry a dog, and he is as ready to back his judgment with his last _centavo_ as was the owner of mark twain's "jumping frog" before that ill-fated creature dined too heartily on buckshot. sundays and saints' days are the days for cock-fighting--and both come pretty often. i wish i could give my readers a glimpse of the passengers who got on and off my train between manila and daguban: filipino women carrying baskets on their heads, smoking cigarettes, and looking after babies--in some cases doing all three at once; filipino men, likewise smoking, and with various kinds of luggage, including occasional gamecocks; filipino children in most cases "undressed exceedingly," as mr. kipling would say; and american soldiers in khaki uniforms and helmets. at one place a pretty little twelve-year-old girl gets aboard, delighted that she is soon to see america for the first time in six years. for a while i travel with an american surveyor whose work is away out where he must swim unbridged streams, guard against poisonous snakes, and sleep where he can. an army surgeon tells me as we pass the site of a battle between the americans and the filipino insurgents eleven years ago: the filipinos would not respect the red cross, and the doctors and hospital corps had to work all night with their guns beside them, alternately bandaging wounds and firing on savages. in telling me good-bye a young westerner sends regards to all america. "even a piece of arizona desert would look good to me," he declares; "anything that's u.s.a." a young veterinarian describes the government's efforts to exterminate rinderpest, a disease which in some sections has killed nine tenths of the _carabao_. a campaign as thorough and far-reaching as that which the agricultural department at home is waging against cattle ticks is in progress, but the ignorant farmers cannot understand the regulations, and are greatly hindering a work which means so much of good to them. such are a few snapshots of philippine life. { } of the vast natural resources of the philippines there can be no question. with a fertile soil, varied products, immense forest wealth, and possibly extensive mineral wealth; with developing railway and steamship lines; with the markets of the orient right at her doors and special trade advantages with the united states--with all these advantages, the islands might soon become rich, if there were only an industrious population. unfortunately, the filipino, however, doesn't like work. whether or not this dislike is incurable remains to be seen. perhaps as he comes into contact with civilization he may conceive a liking for other things than rice, fish, a loin-cloth, and shade--plenty of shade--and proceed to put forth the effort necessary to get these other things. already there seems to have been a definite rise in the standards of living since the american occupation. "when i came here in ' ," mr. william crozier said to me, "not one native in a hundred wore shoes, and hats were also the exception; you can see for yourself how great is the change since then." moreover, in not a few cases americans who have complained of difficulty in getting labor have been themselves to blame: they tried to hire and manage labor the american way instead of in the filipino way. the _custombre_, as the spanish call it--that is to say, the custom of the country--is a factor which no man can ignore without paying the penalty. i am having to prepare this article very hurriedly, and i must postpone my comment on the work of the american government until later. in closing, however, i am reminded that just as the old proverb says, "it takes all sorts of people to make a world," so i am seeing all sorts. a week ago yesterday the hong kong papers announced that mr. clarence poe would be the guest at luncheon of his excellency the governor-general, sir frederick lugard, k. c. m. g., c. b., d. s. o., etc., and lady lugard, in the executive mansion; yesterday { } i had "chow" (food) in a filipino's place, "the oriental hotel, bar, and grocery," away up in the province of pangasinan, and climbed to my room and cot on a sort of ladder or open work stairs such as one might expect to find in an ordinary barn! it was the best place i could find in town. nor do the incongruities end here. after getting my evening meal i walked out in the warm december moonlight, past the shadows of the strange buildings and tropical trees--and all at once there burst out the full chorus of one of the world's great operas, the magnificent voice of a campanini or caruso dominating all! great is the graphophone, advance agent of civilization! manila, p. i. { } xvii what the united states is doing in the philippines there are so many islands in the philippine group, which i have just left behind me (i write in a steamer off manila), that if a man were to visit one a day, without stopping for sundays, it would take him eight years to get around. most of these islands though, of course, are little more than splotches on the water's surface and do not appear on the map. the two big ones, mindanao and luzon, contain three fourths of the total land surface of , square miles, leaving the other one fourth to be divided among the other islets. the land area statistics just given indicate that the philippines are about the size of three average american states and the population ( , , ) is about three times that of an average american commonwealth. there are only about , white people in the islands, and , chinese. chinese immigration is now prohibited. the , , native filipinos who make up practically the entire population represent all stages of human progress. the lowest of them are head-hunters and hang the skulls of their human enemies outside their huts, as an american hunter would mount the head of an elk or bear. the great majority, however, have long been christians and have attained a fair degree of civilization. even among the savage tribes a high moral code is often enforced. the igorrotes, for example, though some of their number make it a condition of marriage { } that the young brave shall have taken a head, shall have killed his man, have remarkable standards of honor and virtue in some respects, and formally visit the death penalty as the punishment for adultery. because roads or means of communication have been poor the people have mingled but little, and there are three dozen different dialects. in the course of a half day's journey by rail i found three different languages spoken by the people along the route. the original inhabitants were negritos, a race of pigmy blacks, of whom only a remnant remains, but the filipino proper is a malayan. filipinos are unique in that they alone among all the native peoples of asia have accepted christianity. fortunate in being without the gold of mexico or peru, the philippines did not attract the more brutal spanish adventurers who, about the time of magellan's discovery, were harrying wealthier peoples with fire and sword. instead of the soldier or the adventurer, it was the priest, his soul aflame with love for his church, who came to the philippines, and the impression made by his virtues was not negatived by the bloody crimes of fellow spaniards mad with lust of treasure. the result is that to this day probably per cent, of the filipinos are catholics. before the priests came, the people worshipped their ancestors, as do other peoples in the far east. the only asiatics who have accepted christianity, the filipinos are also the only asiatics among whom women are not regarded as degraded and inferior beings. "if the spaniards had done nothing else here," as a high american official in manila said to me, "though, as a matter of fact, we are beginning to recognize that they did a great deal, they would deserve well of history for what they have accomplished for the elevation of woman through the introduction of christianity. no other religion regards woman as man's equal." the testimony i heard in the philippines indicated that the female partner in the household is, if anything, superior in authority to the man. she is active in all the little business { } affairs of the family, and white people sometimes arrange with filipino wives for the employment of husbands! the resources of the islands, as i have already said, are magnificent and alluring. in the provinces through which i travelled, less than per cent. of the land seemed to be under cultivation, and statistics show that this is the general condition. a small area has sufficed to produce a living for the tao, or peasant, and he has not cultivated more--a fact due in part to laziness and in part to poor means of transportation. what need to produce what cannot be taken to market? this fact, in my opinion, goes far to account for filipino unaggressiveness. according to the latest figures, the average size of the farms in the philippines, including the large plantations, is less than eight acres, and the principal products are hemp, sugarcane, tobacco, cocoanuts, and rice. the manila hemp plant looks for all the world like the banana plant (both belong to the same family), and the newcomer cannot tell them apart. the fibre is in the trunk or bark. sisal hemp, which i found much like our yucca or "bear grass," is but little grown. sugarcane is usually cultivated in large plantations, as in louisiana, these plantations themselves called _haciendas_, and their owners _hacienderos_. the tobacco industry is an important one, and would be even if the export averaging half a million cigars for every day in the year were stopped, for the filipinos themselves are inveterate smokers. the men smoke, the women smoke, the children smoke--usually cigarettes, but sometimes cigars of enormous proportions. "when i first came here," prof. c. m. conner said to me, "it amused me to ask a filipino how far it was to a certain place, and have him answer, 'oh, two or three cigarettes,' meaning the distance a man should walk in smoking two or three cigarettes!" cocoanut-raising is a very profitable industry--all along the pasig river in manila you can see the native boats high-packed with the green, unhusked product, and two towns in batanzas shipped carloads last year. it is also believed that { } the rubber industry would pay handsomely. the rubber-producing trees i saw about manila were very promising. coffee plantations brought their owners handsome incomes until about twenty years ago, when the blight, more devastating than the cotton boll weevil, came with destruction as swift as that which befell sennacherib. i heard the story of an old plantation near lipa, whose high-bred castilian owner once lived in splendor, his imported horses gay in harness made of the finest silver, but the blight which ruined his coffee plants was equally a blight to his fortunes and his home and it is now given over to weeds and melancholy ruins. in some sections, however, coffee is still grown successfully, and i was much interested in seeing the shrubs in bearing. the philippines are about the only place i have found since leaving home where the people are not trying to grow cotton. in california, in the hawaiian islands, in japan, in korea, and even in manchuria as far north as philadelphia, i have found the plants, and of course in china proper. but i should add just here, that in southern china, about canton, i did not find cotton. as for the industry in the philippines, a southern man, now connected with the agricultural department in manila, said to me: "cotton acts funny here. it runs to weed. i planted some and it opened five or six bolls a stalk and then quit: died down." he showed me some "tree cotton," about twenty feet high, and also some of the caravonica cotton from australia, which is itself much like a small tree. when it comes to the lumber industry, not even col. mulberry sellers would be likely to overestimate the possibilities the philippines offer. there are literally millions in it. the government is leasing immense areas on a stumpage royalty of about per cent., and as railways are built the industry will expand. fortunately, there are strict regulations to prevent the destruction of the forests. they must be used, not wasted. the authorities realize that while timber is a crop like other crops, it differs from the other crops in that the harvesting must { } never be complete. the cutting of trees below a certain minimum size is forbidden. and now a word as to the activities of the american government in the islands and the agencies through which these activities are conducted. the supreme governing body is known as the philippine commission, consisting of the governor-general, who is ex-officio president, and seven other members (four americans, three filipinos) appointed by the president of the united states. four of these commissioners (three of these are americans) are heads of departments, having duties somewhat like those of cabinet officers in america. this commission is not only charged with the executive duties, but it acts as the upper house or senate of the philippine congress. that is to say, the voters elect an assembly corresponding to our house of representatives, but no legislation can become effective unless approved by the philippine commission acting as the upper house. in the first two elections, those of and , the advocates of early independence, opponents of continued american supremacy, have predominated. the result has been that the american members of the commission have had to kill numberless bills passed by the assembly. on the other hand, some very necessary and important measures advocated by the commission, measures which would be very helpful to the filipinos, are opposed by the assembly either through ignorance or stubbornness. most of the assembly members are of the politician type, mestizos or half-breeds (partly spanish or chinese), and very young. "in fact," a manila man said to me, "when adjournment is taken, it is hard for a passerby to tell whether it is the assembly that has let out or the high school!" the people in the provinces elect their own governors and city officials. in some respects the legislation for the philippines adopted by the american officials at washington and manila has been quite progressive. to begin with, our republican national { } administration frankly recognized the blunders made in the south during reconstruction days, and has practically endorsed the general policy of suffrage restriction which the south has since adopted. when the question came up as to who should be allowed to vote, even for the limited number of elective offices, no american congressman was heard to propose that there should be unrestricted manhood suffrage. instead, the law as passed provides that in order to vote in the philippines one must be years of age, a subject of no foreign power, and must either ( ) have held some responsible office before august , , or ( ) own $ worth of property or pay $ annually in established taxes, or ( ) be able to speak, read, and write english or spanish. of course, the filipinos, with a few exceptions, do not "speak, read, or write" english or spanish; they have been taught only their own dialect. i understand that only per cent, of the people can vote under these provisions. it should be said just here, however, that the government is now making a magnificent effort to educate all the filipinos, and the schools are taught in english. the fact that half a million boys and girls had been put into public schools was the first boasted achievement of the american administration of the islands. it was, indeed, a great change from spanish methods, but in the last three or four years the officials have been rapidly waking up to the fact that while they have been getting the filipinos into the schools, they have not been getting them into the right sort of schools. with the realization of this fact, a change has been made in the kind of instruction given. more and more the schools have been given an industrial turn. when i visited the department of education in manila i found that old textbooks had been discarded and new text-books prepared--books especially suited to philippine conditions and directed to practical ends. instead of a general physiology describing bones, arteries, and nerve centres, i found a little book on { } "sanitation and hygiene in the tropics," written in simple language, profusely illustrated, and with information which the pupil can use in bettering the health of himself, his family, and his neighborhood. instead of a general book on agriculture, i found a book written so as to fit the special needs, crops, and conditions in the philippines. moreover, i found the officials exhibiting as their chief treasures the specimens of work turned out by the pupils as a result of the practical instruction given them. "i really think," said one of the officers, "that we have carried the idea of industrial education, of making the schools train for practical life, much farther in the philippines than it has been carried in the united states. the trouble at home is that our teachers don't introduce industrial education early enough. they wait until the boy enters the upper grades--if he doesn't leave school before entering them at all, as he probably does. in any case, they reach only a few pupils. our success, on the other hand, is due to the fact that we begin with industrial education in the earlier grades and get everybody." and right here is a valuable lesson for those of us who are interested in getting practical training for white boys and girls in america as well as for brown boys and girls in the philippines. another progressive step was the introduction of postal savings banks for the filipinos before any law was passed giving similar advantage to the white people of the united states. the law has worked well. in fact, the increase in number of depositors last year, from to , --nearly per cent, in a single twelve-month--would indicate that the people are getting enthusiastic about it and that it is achieving magnificent results in stimulating thrift and the saving habit. the government has also introduced the torrens system of registering land titles, as it has done in hawaii. formerly { } the farmer or the peasant paid per cent, or more for advances or loans. with his land registered under the torrens system the bank will lend him money at a normal rate of interest, with nothing wasted in lawyers' fees for expensive investigations of all previous changes in title since the beginning of time. judge charles b. elliott, now secretary of commerce and police for the islands, was on the minnesota supreme bench when the torrens plan was put into force there, and he is enthusiastic about its workings both in his home state in america and in the philippines. for the public health an especially fruitful work has been done by the americans, albeit the filipino has often had much to say in criticism of the methods of saving life, and but little in praise of the work itself. "the hate of those ye better, the curse of those ye bless" may usually be confidently counted on by those who bear the white man's burden, and this seems to have been especially true with regard to health work in the east. in the philippines the farmers object to the quarantine restrictions that would save their carabao from rinderpest; they object to the regulations that look to stamping out cholera, and i suppose the isolation and colonization of lepers, who formerly ran at large, has also been unpopular. in spite of opposition, vaccination is now general; pock-marked filipinos will not be so common in future. nor is it likely that there will be many reports of cholera outbreaks such as an ex-army nurse described to me a few days ago: "when i was in iloilo in ," she said, "it was impossible to dig graves for the poor natives as fast as they died. the men were kept digging, at the point of the bayonet, all night long--pits feet long, feet wide and feet deep, in which the bodies of the dead were thrown and quick-limed--and yet i remember that on one occasion corpses lay for forty-eight hours before we could find graves for them." in manila statistics show that per cent. of the deaths are { } of babies under one year old, and the ignorance of the mothers as to proper methods of feeding and nursing has resulted in a shockingly high death rate of little ones all over the philippines. i noticed that the new school text-book on sanitation and hygiene gives especial attention to the care of infants, and it is said that already the school boys and girls are often able to give their mothers helpful counsel. in this fact we have another good suggestion for the school authorities at home, where it is said that proper knowledge and care would save the lives of a million infants a year. hardly less important than the school work has been the road-building undertaken by the american officials. and in philippine road work a most excellent example has been set for the states at home, in that the authorities have given attention not only to building roads but to maintaining them after they are built. too many american communities vote a heavy bond issue for roads and think that ends the matter. in the philippines no such mistake has been made. "with the heavy rains here," the governor-general said to me, "our entire investment in a piece of good road would be lost in four years' time if repair work were not carefully looked after." the system adopted for keeping up the roads is very interesting. everywhere along the fine highways i travelled over there were at intervals piles or pens of crushed stone and other material for filling up any hole or break. for each mile or so a filipino is employed--he is called a _caminero_--and his whole duty is to take a wheelbarrow and a few tools and keep that piece of road in shape. prizes of $ each are also offered to the province that maintains the best system of first-class roads, to the province that spends the largest proportion of its funds on roads and bridges, and to the province that shows the best and most complete system of second-class roads. that the filipinos are unfit to face the world alone there can be little doubt. as to whether it is our business in that { } case to manage for them is another question. the filipinos are, like our negroes, a child-race in habits of thought, whatever they may be from the standpoint of the evolutionist. "i never get angry with them, however much they may obstruct my plans," an american of rank said to me, "for i look on them as children. we are running a george junior republic; that's what it amounts to." another american, who has had some experience with the assembly, said to me: "when you have explained and reiterated some apparently simple proposition, they will come to you a day or so later with some elementary question amazing for its childishness." a large number of excellent measures for which the assembly has received the credit were really instigated by the commission--"personally conducted legislation," it is called. the filipinos come of a race which has achieved more than the negro race, but on the whole they are probably hardly better fitted for self-government than the negroes of the south would be to-day if all the whites should move away. as a republican of some prominence at home said to me in manila: "a crowd of ten-year-old schoolboys in chicago would know better how to run a government." the mere fact that the filipinos are not capable of managing wisely for themselves, of course, is not enough to justify a colonial or imperialistic policy on the part of the united states. it is not our business to go up and down the earth taking charge of everybody who is not managing his affairs as well as we think we could manage for him. but, in any case, there is no use to delude ourselves as to what are the real qualifications of mr. filipino. i believe that the united states should eventually withdraw from the islands, but when it does so there should be an understanding with the powers that will prevent the natives from being exploited by some other nation. china sea, off manila harbor. { } xviii asia's greatest lesson for america the prosperity of every man depends upon the prosperity (and therefore upon the efficiency) of the average man. so i have argued for years, in season and out of season, in newspaper articles and in public addresses; and the most impressive fact i have discovered in all my travel through the orient is the fundamental, world-wide importance of this too little accepted economic doctrine. it is the biggest lesson the old world has for the new--the biggest and the most important. in america, education, democratic institutions, a proper organization of industry: these have given the average man a high degree of efficiency and therefore a high degree of prosperity as compared with the lot of the average man in asia or europe--a prosperity heightened and enhanced, it is true, by the exploitation of a new continent's virgin resources, but, after all, due mainly, primarily, as we have said, to the high degree of efficiency with which the average man does his work. and while there may be "too much ego in our cosmos," as kipling's german said about the monkey, for us to like to admit it, the plain truth is that, no matter what our business, we chiefly owe our prosperity not to our own efforts, but to the high standards of intelligence, efficiency, and prosperity on the part of our people as a whole. we live in better homes, eat more wholesome food, wear better clothing, have more leisure { } and more recreation, endure less bitter toil; in short, we find human life fairer and sweeter than our fellow man in asia, not because you or i as individuals deserve so much better than he, but because of our richer racial heritage. we have been born into a society where a higher level of prosperity obtains, where a man's labor and effort count for more. in china a member of the emperor's grand council told me that the average rate of wages throughout the empire for all classes of labor is probably cents a day. in japan it is probably not more, and in india much less. the best mill workers i saw in osaka average cents a day; the laborers at work on the new telephone line in peking get cents; wheelbarrow coolies in shanghai $ a month; linotype operators in tokyo cents a day, and pressmen ; policemen ; the ironworkers in hankow average about cents; street-car conductors in seoul make cents; farm laborers about nankou cents; the highest wages are paid in the philippines, where the ordinary laborer gets from to cents. since writing the foregoing i have looked up the latest official statistics for japan in the "financial and economic annual for ," the latest figures compiled to date being for . in wages had increased on the whole per cent, above figures, and i give herewith averages for certain classes of workmen for and : daily wages in cents farm laborer, male $ . $ . farm laborer, female . - / . - / gardener . . weaver, male . . weaver, female . . shoemaker . - / . - / carpenter . . blacksmith . . day laborer . . - / when i asked director matsui what he paid the hands i saw at work on the agricultural college farm, he answered, "well, being so near tokyo, we have to pay to sen ( to cents) a day, but in the country, generally, i should say to sen" ( to - / cents a day). { } moreover, there is a savage struggle for employment even at these low figures; men work longer hours than in america, and their tasks are often heart-sickening in their heaviness: tasks such as an american laborer would regard as inhuman. take, for example, the poor fellow who pulls the jinrikisha. he is doing the work that horses and mules do at home, and for wages such as our southern negroes would refuse for ordinary labor. more than this, in most cases he is selling you not only his time but his life-blood. run he must with his human burden, and faster than americans would care to run without a burden; and the constant strain overtaxes his heart and shortens his days. more than this, he must go in all kinds of weather, and having become thoroughly heated, must shiver in the winter wind or driving rain during waits. the exposure and the overtaxing of the heart are alike ruinous. the rickshaw man's life, i was told in japan, is several years shorter than that of the average man. and yet so many men are driven by the general poverty into the rickshaw business that i have hardly found a city in which it is not overcrowded. in peking on one occasion i almost thought my life endangered by the mob who jostled, tugged, and fought for the privilege of earning the or cents fare my patronage involved. in hong kong two runners, wild-eyed with the keenness of the savage struggle for existence, menaced the smaller, younger man i had hired as if they would take me by force from his vehicle to their own--and this for a climb so steep that i soon got out and walked rather than feel myself guilty of "man's inhumanity to man" by making a fellow being pull me. fiercer yet was the competition in hankow, where not even the brutal clubbing of the policeman was enough to keep the men in order. in wintry newchwang i think i suffered almost as much as my rickshaw man did merely to see him wading through mud and foulness such as i should not wish my horse to go through at home--though if he had { } not waded i should have had to, and he was the more used to it! i mention the hard life of the oriental laborer who pulls the jinrikisha because it is typical. the business would not be crowded if it were not that the men find life in other lines no better. consider the men who carried me in my sedan chair in canton. as each man fitted the wooden shafts over his shoulders i could see that they were welted with corns like a mule's shoulders chafed by the hames through many a summer's plowing. consider, too, the thousands of chinese and japanese who do the work not of carriage horses, but of draft horses. from the time you land in yokahoma your heart is made sick by the sight of half-naked human-beings harnessed like oxen to heavily laden carts and drays. bent, tense, and perspiring like slaves at the oar, they draw their heavy burdens through the streets. one or two men wearily pull an immense telegraph pole balanced on a two-wheeled truck. eight or ten men are harnessed together dragging some merchant's heavy freight. four to a dozen other men carry some heavy building-stone or piece of machinery by running bamboo supports from the shoulders of the men behind to the shoulders of the men in front: you can see the constant, tortuous play of the muscles around each man's rigid backbone while the strained, monotonous, half-weird chorus, "hy-ah! hullah! hee-ah! hey!" measures their tread and shifts the strain from man to man, step by step, with the precision of clock work. on the rivers in china, too, one sees boats run by human treadmill power: a harder task than that of sisyphus is that of the men who sweat all day long at the wheel, forever climbing and never advancing. nor do the women and children of the orient escape burdens such as only men's strong shoulders should bear. children who should have the freedom that even the young colt gets--how my heart has gone out to them cheated out of the joys { } of childhood! and the women with children strapped on their backs while they steer boats and handle passengers and traffic about hong kong! or leave, if you will, the water-front at hong kong and make the hard climb up the steep, bluff-like, -foot mountainside, dotted with the handsome residences of wealthy englishmen: you can hardly believe that every massive timber, every ton of brick, every great foundation-stone was carried up, up from the town below, by the tug and strain of human muscle--and not merely human muscle, but in most cases the muscles of women! probably no governor in any state in america lives in a residence so splendid as that of the governor-general of hong kong--certainly no governor's residence is so beautifully situated, halfway up a sheer mountain-slope--and yet the wife of the governor-general told me that the material used in the building was brought up the mountainside by women! hardly better fare the women in the factories. i mentioned in a former letter the mills in shanghai where women work - / hours for cents a day; and in most cases the women in eastern factories are herded together in crowded compounds little better than the workhouses for american criminals! or consider the rice farmers who wade through mud knee-deep to plant the rice by hand, cultivate it with primitive tools, and harvest it with sickles. and after all this, they must often sell the rice they grow, and themselves buy cheaper millet or poorer rice for their own food. the situation has probably improved somewhat since col. charles denby published his book five years ago, but in its general outlines the plight of the typical chinese farmer as described by him then is true to-day: "the average wage of an able-bodied young man is $ per annum, with food and lodging, straw shoes, and free shaving--an important item in a country where heads must be shaved three or four times a month. his clothing costs about $ per annum. in ten years he may buy one third of an acre of land ($ per acre) and necessary implements. in ten years more he may { } double his holdings and become part-owner in a water buffalo. in six years more he can procure a wife and live comfortably on his estate. thus in twenty-six years he has gained a competence." so much by way of a faint picture of existing industrial conditions in the orient. let us now see what there is for us to learn from these facts. first of all, we may inquire why such conditions obtain. why is it that the oriental gets such low wages, and has such low earning power? "an overcrowded population," somebody answers, "in china, for example, four hundred million people--one fourth the human race--crowded within the limits of one empire. this is the cause." i don't believe it. there is a limit no doubt beyond which increase of population, even with the most highly developed system of industry, might lead to such a result, but i do not believe that this limit has been reached even in china. the people in england live a great deal better to-day than they did when england had only one tenth its present population. the average man in your county has more conveniences, comforts, and a better income than he had in your grandfather's day when the population was not nearly so dense. the united states with a population of ninety odd million pays its laborers vastly better than it did when its population was only thirty million. the truth is that every man should be able to earn a little more than he consumes; there should be a margin, an excess which should constitute his contribution to the "commonwealth," to the race. our buildings, roads, railroads, churches, cathedrals, works of art--everything which makes the modern world a better place to live in than the primitive world was: these represent the combined contributions of all previous men and races. and if society is so able to handle men that they produce any fraction more than they consume, the more men the better the world. { } my conviction is that the oriental nations are poor, not because of their dense populations, but because of their defective industrial organizations, because they do not provide men tools and knowledge to work with. ignorance and lack of machinery--these have kept asia poor; knowledge and modern tools--these have made america rich. if asia had a panama canal to dig, she would dig it with picks, hoes, and spades and tote out the earth in buckets. nothing but human bone and sinew would be employed, and the men would be paid little, because without tools and knowledge they must always earn little. but america puts brains, science, steam, electricity, machinery into the big ditch--tools and knowledge, in other words--and she pays good wages because a man thus equipped does the work of ten men whose only force is the force of muscle. but asia--deluded, foolish asia--has scorned machinery. "the more work machinery does, the less there will be for human beings to do. men will be without work, and men without work will starve." with this folly on her lips she has rejected the agencies that would have rescued her from her never-ending struggle with starvation. oftentimes, we know, the same cry has been heard in england--and alas! even in america; our labor unions even now sometimes lend a willing ear to such nonsense. there were riots in england when manufacturers sought to introduce labor-saving methods in cotton-spinning; and when railroads were introduced among us there were doubtless thousands of draymen, stage-drivers, and boatmen who, if they had dared, would have torn up the rails and thrown them into the rivers, as the chinese did along the yangtze-kiang. with much the same feeling the old-time hand compositors looked upon the coming of the typesetting machine. and yet with all our engines doing the work of millions of draymen and cabmen, with all our factory-machines doing the { } work of hundreds of thousands of weavers and spinners, with all our telegraphs and telephones taking the place of numberless messengers, runners, and errand boys, and with a population, too, vastly in excess of the population when old-fashioned methods prevailed, the fact stands out that labor has never been in greater demand and has never commanded higher wages than to-day. with a proper organization of industry it seems to me that it must ever be so--certainly as far ahead as we can look into the future. when a machine is invented which enables one man to do the work it formerly required two men to do in producing some sheer necessity for mankind, an extra man is released or freed to serve mankind by the production of some comfort or luxury, or by ministering to the things of the mind and the spirit. and it is the duty of society and government, it may be said just here, to facilitate this result, to provide education and equality of opportunity so that each man will work where his effort will mean most in human service. knowledge or education not only cuts the shackles which chain a man down to a few occupations, not only sets him free to labor where he can work best, but is also itself a productive agency--a tool with which a man may work better. take the simple fact that cowpeas gather nitrogen from the air: a man may harness this scientific truth, use it and set it to work, and get results, profits, power, from it, as surely as from a harnessed horse or steam engine. and so with every other useful bit of knowledge under heaven. knowledge is power. { } [illustration: "society belles" of mindanao, philippine islands.] [illustration: a street scene in manila.] { } [illustration: two kinds of workers in burma .] one of the pleasures of being "on the road to mandalay" was to see the-- "elephints a-pilin' teak in the sludgy, squdgy creek" the elephants of rangoon are as fascinating as the camels of peking. but one never gets hardened to the every-day oriental spectacle of human beings harnessed like oxen to weary burdens, many of which make those in the lower picture look light by comparison. { continued} all this doctrine asia has rejected, or has never even got to the point of considering. in america a motorman or conductor by means of tools and knowledge--a street-car for a tool and the science of electricity for knowledge--transports forty people from one place to another. these men are high-priced laborers considered from an oriental standpoint and yet { } it costs you only five cents for your ride, and five minutes' time. in peking, on the other hand, it takes forty men pulling rickshaws to transport the forty passengers; and though the pullers are "cheap laborers," it costs you more money and an hour's time to get to your destination--even if you are so lucky as not to be taken to the wrong place. forty men to do the work that two would do at home! men and women weavers doing work that machines would do at home. grain reaped with sickles instead of with horses and reapers as in america. sixteen men at hankow to carry baggage that one man and a one-horse dray would carry in new york. women carrying brick, stone, and timber up the mountainside at hong kong--and the chinese threatened a general riot when the english built a cable-car system up the incline; they compelled the owners to sign an agreement to transport passengers only--never freight! no sawmills in the orient, but thousands of men laboriously converting logs into lumber by means of whipsaws. no pumps, even at the most used watering places, but buckets and ropes: often no windlass. no power grain-mills, but men and women, and, in some cases, asses and oxen, doing the work that the idle water-powers are given no chance to do. these are but specimen illustrations. in the few industries where machinery and knowledge are brought into play ordinary labor is as yet but little better paid than in other lines because such industries are not numerous enough to affect the general level of wages. the net result of her policy of refusing the help of machinery is that asia has not doubled a man's chances for work, but she has more than halved the pay he gets for that work. and why? because she has reduced his efficiency. a man must get his proportion of the common wealth, and where the masses are shackled, hampered by ignorance and poor tools, they produce little, and each man's share is little. suppose you are a merchant: what sort of trade could you hope for among a people who earn cents a day--the head { } of a family getting half enough to buy a single meal in a second-rate restaurant? or if you are a banker, what sort of deposits could you get among such a people? or if a railroad man, how much traffic? or if a manufacturer, how much business? or if a newspaper man, how much circulation? or if a doctor, lawyer, teacher, or preacher, how much income? very plain on the whole must be my two propositions: ( ) that the asiatic laborer is poor, the american laborer well-to-do, because the asiatic earns little, the american much--a condition due to the fact that the american doubles, trebles, or quadruples his productive capacity, his earning power, by the use of tools and knowledge, machinery and education. the oriental does not. ( ) your prosperity, in whatever measure you have it; the fact that your labor earns two, three, or ten times what you would get for it if you had been born in asia; this is due in the main, not to your personal merit, but to your racial inheritance, to the fact that you were born among a people who have developed an industrial order, have provided education and machinery, tools and knowledge, in such manner that your services to society are worth several times as much as would be the case if you were in the orient, where education has never reached the common people. pity--may god pity!--the man who fancies he owes nothing to the school, who pays his tax for education grudgingly as if it were a charity--as if he had only himself to thank for the property on which the government levies a pitiable mill or so for the advancement and diffusion of knowledge among mankind. pity him if he has not considered; pity him the more if, having considered, he is small enough of soul to repudiate the debt he owes the race. but for what education has brought us from all its past, but for what it has wrought through the invention of better tools and the better management (through increased knowledge) of all the powers with which men labor, our close-fisted, short-sighted { } taxpayer would himself be living in a shelter of brush, shooting game with a bow and arrow, cultivating corn with a crooked stick! most of what he has he owes to his racial heritage; it is only because other men prosper that he prospers. and yet owing so much to the past, he would do nothing for the future; owing so much to the progress the race has made, he would do nothing to insure a continuance of that progress. "line upon line; precept upon precept." at the risk of possible redundancy, therefore, let me conclude by repeating: whatever prosperity you enjoy is largely due to what previous generations have done for increasing man's efficiency by means of knowledge and tools; your first duty to your fellows is to help forward the same agencies for human uplift in the future. and while this is the first duty of the individual, it is even more emphatically the first duty of a community or a commonwealth. this is asia's most important lesson for america. singapore, straits settlements. { } xix the straits settlements and burma the straits settlements and burma i have seen in the dead of winter, and yet with no suggestion of snow, bare fields, or leafless trees. the luxuriant green of the foliage is never touched by frost, and in singapore, only seventy-seven miles from the equator, summer and winter are practically alike. "but you must remember that we are here in the wintertime," a fellow-traveller remarked when another had expressed his surprise at not finding it hotter than it really was--the speaker evidently forgetting that at the equator december is as much a summer month as july, and immediately south of it what are the hot months with us become the winter months there. and singapore is so close to the equator that for it "all seasons are summer," and the _punkah wallas_ (the coolies who swing the big fans by which the rooms are made tolerable) must work as hard on christmas day as on the fourth of july. the vegetation in the straits settlements is such as writers on the tropics have made familiar to us. the graceful cocoanut palms are silhouetted against the sky in all directions; the dense, heavy foliage of the banana trees is seen on almost every street; the sprawling, drunken banyan tree, a confusion of roots and branches, casts its dense shadows on the grateful earth; and all around the city are rubber plantations, immense pineapple fields, and uncleared jungle-land in which wild beasts and poisonous serpents carry on the unending { } life-and-death struggle between the strong and the weak. singapore, in fact, is said to have been called "the lion city" for a long while because of the great number of lions found in the neighborhood. i saw the skins of elephants and tigers killed nearby, and also the skin of a singapore alligator fifteen feet long. there is probably no place on earth in which there have been brought together greater varieties of the human species than in singapore. i was told that sixty languages are spoken in the city, and if diversity of color may be taken as an indication of diversity of language, i am prepared to believe it. there are many indians or hindus, most of them about as black as our negroes, but with the features of the caucasian in the main--sharp noses, thin lips, and straight glossy black hair; but per cent, of the population of singapore is chinese. it is interesting to observe that john chinaman seems to flourish equally in the tropics and in the temperate zone. here in singapore under an equatorial sun, or in canton on the edge of the tropics, he seems as energetic, as unfailing in industry, as he is in wintry mukden or northern mongolia. for hours after sunset many of the chinese shops in singapore present as busy an appearance as at mid-day, and the pigtailed rickshaw men, with only a loin-cloth about their bare bodies, seem to run as fast and as far as they would if they were in peking. the chinese are a wonderful people, and i am more and more impressed with the thought of what a hand they are to have in the world's affairs a hundred years hence when they get thoroughly "waked up." they were first brought to singapore, i understand, as common laborers, but now their descendants are among the wealthiest men and women in the place and ride around in automobiles, while descendants of their one-time employers walk humbly on the adjacent sidewalks. it is a tribute to the untiring industry, shrewdness, and business skill of the chinaman that nowadays when people { } anywhere speak of desiring celestials as laborers, they add, "provided they are under contract to return to china when the work is finished, and do not remain to absorb the trade and wealth of the country." from singapore we made a very interesting trip to johore, a little kingdom about the size of ten ordinary counties, and with a population of about , . the soil and climate along the route are well suited to the cultivation of rubber trees, and considerable areas have recently been cleared of the dense jungle growth and set to young rubber plants. one of my friends who has a rubber plantation north of singapore says that while rubber is selling now at only $ . a pound as compared with $ a pound a few months ago, there are still enormous profits in the business, as the rubber should not cost over cents a pound to produce. some of the older plantations paid dividends of per cent, last year, and probably set aside something for a rainy day in addition. yet not even these facts would have justified the wild speculation in rubber, the unreasoning inflation in values, which proved a veritable "mississippi bubble" for so many investors in europe and asia last year. shares worth $ or $ were grabbed by eager buyers at $ each. i know of a specific instance where a plantation bought for $ , was capitalized at $ , , or for , and the stock floated. when the madness had finally spent itself and people began to see things as they were, not only individuals, but whole communities, found themselves prostrated. shanghai will not recover for years, and some of its citizens--the young fellow with a $ income who incurred a $ , debt in the scramble, for example--are left in practical bondage for life as a result. the men who have gone into the rubber-growing industry on a strictly business basis, however, are likely to find it profitable for a long time to come. the cocoanut industry is also a profitable one, although the modest average of per cent., year in and year out, has { } not appealed to those who have been indulging in pipe dreams about rubber. where transportation facilities are good, the profits from cocoanuts probably average considerably in excess of per cent., for the trees require little care, and it is easy for the owners to sell the product without going to any trouble themselves. in one section of the philippines, i know, the chinese pay one peso ( cents gold) a tree for the nuts and pick them themselves. and when we consider the great number of the slim-bodied trees that may grow upon an acre, it is not surprising to hear that many owners of cocoanut groves or plantations live in europe on the income from the groves, going to no trouble whatever except to have the trees counted once a year. penang, where we spent only a day, is almost literally in the midst of an immense cocoanut plantation, and i was much interested in seeing the half-naked hindus gathering the unhusked fruit for shipment. the tall, limbless trunks of the trees, surmounted only by a top-knot of fruit and foliage, are in nearly every case gapped and notched at intervals of about three feet to furnish toe-hold for the natives in climbing. after tiffin on this winter day, instead of putting on gloves and overcoats, we went out on a grassy lawn, clad in linen and pongee as we were, and luxuriated in the cool shade of the palm trees. the dense foliage of the tropical jungle was in sight from our place by the seaside, and in the garden not far away were cinnamon trees, cloves, orchids, rubber trees, the poisonous upas, and palms of all varieties known. penang is a rather important commercial centre, and exports more tin than any other place on earth. the metal is shipped in molten bars like lead or pig iron, and to one who has associated tin only with light buckets, cups, and dippers, it is surprising how much strength it takes to move a bar of the solid metal the size of a small watermelon. the imports of penang are also not inconsiderable, and in walking through the warehouses along the wharves i was { } struck by the number of boxes, crates, bales, and bundles bearing the legend, "made in germany." the germans are today the most aggressive commercial nation on earth, and i find that their government and their business houses are searching every nook and corner of the globe for trade openings. unlike our american manufacturers, it may be observed just here, they are quick to change the style of their goods to meet even what they may regard as the whims of their customers, and this is an advantage of no small importance. if a manufacturer wishes to sell plows in the philippines, for example, it would not be worth while for him to try to sell the thoroughly modern two-handled american kind to begin with. he should manufacture an improved one-handled sort at first and try gradually to make the natives see the advantages of using two handles. at present, as an american said to me in manila, if you should seek to sell a filipino a two-handled plow he would probably say that two handles may be all right for americans who are not expert at plowing, but that the filipino has passed that stage! i mention this only by way of illustrating the necessity of respecting the _custombre_, or custom, of the country. the germans realize this, and we do not. one day by steamer from penang brought us to rangoon, the capital and most important city in burma, and (next to bombay and calcutta) the most important in british india. we had heard much of the place, situated thirty miles up the river "on the road to mandalay," but found that even then the half had not been told. if there were nothing else to see but the people on the streets, a visit to rangoon would be memorable, for nowhere else on earth perhaps is there such butterfly-like gorgeousness and gaudiness of raiment. at a little distance you might mistake a crowd for an enormous flower-bed. all around you are men and women wearing robes that rival in brilliancy joseph's coat of many colors. the varieties in form of clothing are as great as the varieties { } in hue. the burmese babies toddle about in beauty unadorned, and for the grown-ups there is every conceivable sort of apparel--or the lack of it. most of the laborers on the streets wear only a loin-cloth and a turban (with the addition of a caste-mark on the forehead in case they are hindus), but others have loose-fitting red, green, yellow, blue, striped, ring-streaked or rainbow-hued wraps, robes, shirts or trousers: and the women, of course, affect an equal variety of colors. "the whackin' white cheroot" that the girl smoked in kipling's "road to mandalay" is also much in evidence here; or perhaps instead of the white cheroot it is an enormous black cigar. in either case it is as large as a medium-sized corncob, that the newly landed tourist is moved to stare thereat in open-eyed amazement. how do kipling's verses go? "'er petticoat was yaller, an' 'er little cap was green. an' 'er name was supi-yaw-lat--jes' the same as theebaw's queen, an' i seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot. an' a-wastin' christian kisses on a 'eathen idol's foot." they are all there in rangoon yet--the gorgeous coloring of the lady's raiment, her cheroots, and the heathen idols-- "bloomin' idol made o' mud. wot they called the great gawd bud." how many images of buddha there are in the city it would be impossible to estimate--i saw them not only in the pagodas, but newly carved in the shops which supply the buddhist temples in the interior--and the gilded dome of the shwe dagon pagoda, "the most celebrated shrine of the entire buddhist world," glitters like a beacon for miles before you reach the city. nearly two thirds the height of the washington monument, it is gilded from top to bottom--with actual gold leaf, rangoon citizens claim--and around it are innumerable smaller pagodas and shrines glittering with mosaics of colored glass in imitation of all the gems known to mortals. { } studied closely, they appear unduly gaudy, of course, but your first impression is that you have found a real aladdin's palace, a dazzling, glittering dream of oriental splendor and magnificence. to these shrines there come to-day, as there have been coming for more than twenty centuries, pilgrims from all lands where buddha's memory is worshipped, pilgrims not only from burma, but from siam, ceylon, china, and korea. i shall not soon forget the feeble looks of the old white-haired pilgrim whom two women were helping up the steep ascent as i left the pagoda after my second visit there. i am glad for his sake, and for the sake of all the millions to whom buddha's doctrine is "the light of asia," that it is a religion at least without the degrading, blighting tendencies of hinduism, and that the smiling faces of the images about the shwe dagon present at least some faint idea of a god who tempers justice with mercy and made human life good rather than a god of cruelty who made life a curse and a mockery. every traveller who sees buddhist burma after having seen hindu india comments on the greater cheerfulness and hopefulness of the burman people, and especially the happier lives of the women--all a result, in the main, of the difference in religion. and yet burman buddhism, in all conscience, is pitiable enough--its temples infested by fortune-tellers, witches, and fakirs, its faith mingled with gross superstitions and charms to propitiate the "nats" or spirits which are supposed to inhabit streams, forests, villages, houses, etc., and to have infinite power over the lives and fortunes of the people. a common sight on the morning streets is a group of yellow-robed priests with their begging bowls, into which pious buddhists put food and other offerings; without these voluntary offerings the priest must go hungry. a curious custom in burma, as in siam, requires every youth to don the priestly robe for a few days and get his living in this way. the ordinary beast of burden in rangoon is the indian { } bullock. often pure white, usually with a well-kept appearance and with a clean, glossy coat of short hair, he looks as if he should be on the way to a roman sacrifice with garlands about his head. teams of black hindus, three quarters naked, are also seen pulling heavy carts and drays; and it may be that the small boys utilize the long-eared goats (they have heavy, drooping ears like a foxhound's) to pull their small carts, but this i do not know. the work-beast of the city that interested me most was the elephant, and henceforth the elephants of rangoon shall have a place alongside the camels of peking in my memory and affection. of course, the elephants of rangoon are not so numerous as are the camels in china's capital, but those that one sees display an intelligence and certain human-like qualities that make them fascinating. one morning i got up early and went to mcgregor & co.'s lumber yard at ahloon on the irrawaddy to see the trained elephants there handle the heavy saw-logs which it is necessary to move from place to place. it was better than a circus. "elephants a-pilin' teak in the sludgy, squdgy creek." it is very clear that my lord the elephant, like most other beings in the tropics, doesn't entirely approve of work. what he did at ahloon on the morning of my visit he did with infinite deliberation, and he stopped much to rest between tugs. also when some enormous log, thirty or forty feet long and two or three feet thick, was given him to pull through the mire, he would roar mightily at each hard place, getting down on his knees sometimes to use his strength to better advantage, and one could hardly escape the conclusion that at times he "cussed" in violent elephantese. the king of the group, a magnificent tusker, pushed the logs with his snout and tusks, while the others pulled them with chains. but the most marvellous thing is how the barefooted, half-naked driver, or mahout, astride the great giant's shoulders, makes him { } understand what to do in each case by merely kicking his neck or prodding his ears. at one time while i watched, a tuskless elephant or mutna got his log stuck in the mud and was tugging and roaring profanely about his trials, when the tusker's mahout bid that royal beast go help his troubled brother. straightway, therefore, went the tusker, leaving great holes in the mud at each footprint as if a tree had been uprooted there, gave a mighty shove to the recalcitrant log, and there was peace again in the camp. for stacking lumber the elephant is especially useful. any ordinary sized log, tree or piece of lumber he will pick up as if it were a piece of stovewood and tote with his snout, and in piling heavy plank he is remarkably careful about matching. eying the pile at a distance, he looks to see if it is uneven or any single piece out of place, in which case he is quick to make it right. the young lady in our party was also much amused when the mahout called out, "salaam to memsahib" ("salute the lady"), and his lordship bowed and made his salutation as gracefully as his enormous head and forelegs would permit. one of my fellow-passengers, a rubber planter from the straits settlements, has worked elephants, has used them on the plantation and as help in building bridges, and has told me some interesting stories concerning them. he had two--one a tusker worth rupees, or $ - / , and the other a mutna (without tusks) worth rupees, or $ . on one occasion the mutna heard "the call of the wild," and went back to the jungle. evidently, though, his wild brethren didn't like the civilized ways he brought back with him, for when he returned home later two thirds of his tail had been pulled off, and he bore other marks of struggle on his body. the tusker on one occasion ran mad (as they will do now and then) and killed one of his keepers. i was also interested to hear how a wild elephant is caught. driven into a stockade, the tamed elephants close in { } on him, and the mahouts get him well chained before he knows what has happened. for a day or two he remains in enforced bondage, then two or three of the great tamed creatures take him out for a walk or down to the river where he may drink and bathe himself. moreover, the other mahouts set about taming him--talk to him in the affectionate, soothing, half hypnotizing way which kipling has made famous in his stories, and stroke his trunk from discreet but gradually lessening distances. in a couple of months "my lord the elephant" is fully civilized, responds promptly to the suggestions of his mahout, and a little later adopts some useful occupation. in siam the elephants are much used in managing the immense rafts of teak trees that are floated down the rivers for export. my friend the rubber planter has also had one or two good travelling elephants on which he used to travel through the jungle from one plantation to the other, a distance of twenty-five miles. on more than one occasion he has run into a herd of wild elephants in making this trip. on good roads, elephants kept only for riding purposes will easily make seven miles an hour, moving with a long, easy stride, which, however, they are likely to lose if set to heavy work. perhaps the greatest difficulty about the elephant is the great quantity of food required to keep him going. eight hundred pounds a day will barely "jestify his stummuck," as uncle remus would say, and when he gets hungry "he wants what he wants when he wants it," and trumpets thunderously till he gets it. the skipper on a singapore-rangoon steamer told of having had a dozen or more on board a few months ago, and their feed supply becoming exhausted, they waxed mutinous and wrathy, evincing a disposition to tear the whole vessel to pieces, when the ship fortunately came near enough to land to enable the officers to signal for a few tons of feed to be brought aboard for the elephants' breakfast. i haven't seen a white elephant yet, but in the shwe dagon { } temple i found a lively eight-months-old youngster, an orphan from mandalay, that could eat bananas twice as fast as my burmese boy-guide and i could peel them, and the boy-guide in question assured me that he will turn white by the time he is two or three years old. which would be very interesting if true, but i fear it isn't. i am now hurrying on to india proper and must conclude my impression of burma with this letter. in rangoon the lighter-skinned and lighter-hearted burmese contrast rather notably with the dark and serious hindus. many of the hindus are in burma only temporarily. one ship that i saw coming into rangoon from the coromandel coast, india, was literally spilling over with brown hindu coolies. they will work through the burman rice harvest--rice is the one great crop of the country--at eight to twelve annas ( to cents) a day, and after three or four months of this will return home. because they are so poor at home the steamship charges only ten rupees ($ ) for bringing them to rangoon, but requires fifteen rupees for carrying them back. nor should i fail to mention another thing that impressed me very much in rangoon: the graves of the english officers who were killed in the war with the burmans many years ago, and are now buried within the walls of the picturesque old buddhist temple. true it is that the sun never sets on the english flag; and one finds much to remind him, too, that the sun never sets on the graves of that flag's defenders. scattered through every zone and clime are they: countless thousands of them far, far from the land that gave them birth. nearby the place where those of the shwe dagon sleep i stood on the temple walls and looked out on the fading beauty of the tropic sunset, the silvery outline of the irrawaddy river breaking into the darkening green of the jungle growth. and then came up the cool night breeze of the torrid zone--more refreshing and delightful than our temperate climate ever knows. as gentle and caressing as a mother's lullaby, how { } it crooned among the foliage of the cocoanut palms, whispered among the papaya leaves, and how joyously the great blades of the bananas welcomed it! with that fair view before our eyes, with the breezes as if of araby the blest making mere existence a joy, we take our leave of burma. rangoon, bunna. { } xx hinduism--and the himalayas if it were any other country but india, i might write last of the religion the people profess, but, since it is india, it is the first thing to be considered. religion is the supreme fact of indian life-- if we may call religion what has been more properly defined as "a sacred disease." certainly nowhere else on earth is there a country where the entire life of the people is so molded by their spiritual beliefs. two children are born the same day. the one, of high-caste parentage, brahminism has irrevocably decreed shall be all his life, no matter how stupid or vicious, a privileged and "superior" being, to whom all lower orders must make obeisance. the other, born of a dom father and mother, brahminism has decreed shall be all his life, no matter how great his virtue or brilliant his mind, an outcast whose mere touch works pollution worse than crime. and through the lifetime of each, brahminism, or hinduism, as the supreme religion of india is called, will exercise over him an influence more potent and incessant than any civil government has ever exercised over its subjects. about theoretical or philosophical hinduism there is admittedly a certain measure of moral beauty, but to get even this from hindu literature one must wade through cesspools of filth and obscenity and must shut his eyes to pitiably low ideals of deity, while in its practical manifestations modern hinduism is the most sickening combination of superstition, idolatry, and { } vice that now disgraces the name of religion in any considerable portion of the earth. the idea of the transmigration of souls, "samsara," the belief that you have had millions of births (as men and animals) and may have millions more (unless you earlier merit the favor of the gods and win release from life), and that what you are in your present life is the result of actions in previous existence, and what you do in this present existence will influence all your future rebirths--this is a doctrine that might be a tremendous moral force if it were linked with such ideals as distinguish the christian religion. in practical hinduism, however, the emphasis is not on worthy living, not on exalted moral conduct, as the thing essential to divine favor, but on rites and ceremonies, regard for the priests, rigid observance of caste, sacred bathing, and the offering of proper sacrifices to fickle or bloodthirsty gods and goddesses. in their religion no isaiah makes terrible and effective protest against the uselessness of form; no christ teaches that god can be worshipped only in spirit. another doctrine, that self, that a man's own soul is an emanation of god, a part of the divine essence, and the purpose of man's existence to hasten a final absorption into god--this also (although destructive of the idea of individuality, the sacredness of personality, so fundamental in christian thought) would seem to be a tremendous moral force, but it is vitiated in much the same way as is the idea of samsara, while it is further weakened by the fact that the hindu gods themselves are often represented as immoral, bloodthirsty, obscene and criminal. enmeshed in vicious traditions and false doctrine, its philosophy and purer teachings known only to a cultured few, the higher hinduism "powerless to be born," is only the illusion which it would teach that all else is, while practical hinduism hangs like a blight over a land whose people are as the sands of the sea for multitude. if all the human race alive to-day were to pass in review before you, every eighth person in the { } ranks would be a hindu. and to realize in what manner hinduism guides its , , followers it is only necessary to visit some of their most celebrated temples. it is an extreme illustration, no doubt, but since it was the first hindu shrine i visited, we may begin with the kalighat in calcutta. this temple is dedicated to kali, or "mother kali," as the english-speaking temple priest who conducted me always said, the bloody goddess of destruction. that terrible society of criminals and assassins, the thugs (its founder is worshipped as a saint), had kali as their patron goddess and whetted their knives and planned their murderous crimes before her image: all this in a "temple" of "religion." the representations of kali befit her character. fury is in her countenance and in her three red eyes. her tongue lolls from her mouth. in one of her four hands is the dripping, bloody head of a slaughtered enemy. her necklace is of the heads of her slain. her girdle is the severed hands of the dead men. tradition says that she constantly drinks blood; and each man who comes to worship her brings a little wet, trembling kid: the warm blood that flows after the priestly ax has done its work is supposed to please the terrible goddess. the morning of my visit there were sacrifices every few minutes, and on the great day of kali-worship, in october, the place runs ankle-deep in blood. in the old days--and not so long ago at that--there were human sacrifices at kalighat, and when i asked the priest concerning them, his significant answer was that the british government would no longer allow them. he made no claim that hinduism itself has changed! their kaliki purana says that one human sacrifice delights kali for a thousand years, and in spite of british alertness a bloody human head bedecked with flowers was found in a kali temple near calcutta not many years ago, and at akrha, also near calcutta, human sacrifice has been attempted within a decade. from the kalighat temple the priest of mother kali took me { } to the edge of the dirty, murky hoogli (sacred as a part of the ganges system), where in its consecrated filth scores of miserable pilgrims were washing away their sins or "acquiring merit" with the gods. on the way we passed the image of juggernaut, the miserable stable-like shelters in which the pilgrims are lodged, and the image of setola, "the mother of the smallpox," as the priest called her, to which smallpox victims come for cure. back again to the temple, the priest assured me that if i would give the other priests a few annas (an anna is worth cents of our money) they would drive back the shrieking, bloodstained, garlanded crowds of half-naked "worshippers" and give me a view of the kali idol. the money forthcoming--and the high priest, in expectation of a tip, coming out to lend his assistance--there ensued such a kilkenny fight between the priests and the dense mob of "worshippers," such knocking, kicking, scrouging, as never any man got for the same amount of money in any prize-fight, until finally i got a swift glimpse of the idol's hideous head. then having paid the greedy priest and the high priest (like the daughters of the horseleech they always cry for "more") i went back to my hotel, properly edified, let us believe, by this spectacle of hindu "religion." it was sunday morning. could i have been otherwise than impressed when i went that afternoon to another indian religious service--this time of christians--and compared it with what i had seen in the morning? instead of a money-hunting priest sitting beside a butcher's block and exacting a prescribed fee from each pushing, jabbering, suppliant of a bloodthirsty goddess, herself only one of the many jealous gods and goddesses to be favored and propitiated--instead of this there was a converted indian minister who told his fellows of one god whose characteristic is love, and whose worship is of the spirit. and instead of the piteous bleating of slaughtered beasts there was the fine rhythm of hymns whose english names one could easily { } recognize from their tunes in spite of the translation of the words into the strange tongue of the bengali. at home, i may say just here, i am not accused of being flagrantly and outrageously pious; but no open-minded, observant man, even if he were an infidel, could make a trip through asia without seeing what a tremendously uplifting influence is the religion to which the majority of americans adhere as compared with the other faiths, and how tremendously in christian lands it has bettered and enriched the lives even of those of "deaf ear and soul uncaring" who ignore it or deride it. in no spirit of cant and with no desire to preach, i set down these things, simply because they are as obvious as temples or scenery to any oriental traveller who travels with open eyes and open mind. but let us now go to benares, the fountain-head of the hindu faith, the city which is to it what mecca is to mohammedanism and more than jerusalem is to christianity. and benares is so important that i must give more than a paragraph to my impressions of it. the view of the river-front from the sacred ganges i found surprisingly majestic and impressive. the magnificent, many-storied pilgrim-houses, built long ago by wealthy princes anxious to win the favor of the gods, tower like mountains from the river bank. a strange mingling of many styles and epochs of oriental architecture are they, and yet mainly suggestive of the palaces and temples that lined the ancient nile. an earthquake, too, has heightened the effect by leaving massive ruins, the broken bases of gigantic columns, that seem to whisper tales even older than any building now standing in benares. for benares, although its present structures are modern, was old when the walls of rome were built; it was historic when david sat on the throne of israel. but while one may find elsewhere structures not greatly { } unlike these beside the sacred river, nowhere else on earth may one see crowds like these--crowds that overflow the acres and acres of stone steps leading up from the river's edge through the maze of buildings and spill off into the water. there are indeed all sorts and conditions of men and women. princes come from afar with their gorgeous retinues and stately equipages, and go down into the bathing-places calling on the names of their gods as trustingly as the poor doomed leper who thinks that the waters of mother gunga may bring the hoped-for healing of his body. wealthy, high-caste women whose faces no man ever sees except those that be of their own households--they too must not miss the blessing for soul and body to be gained in no other way, and so they are brought in curtained, man-borne _palki_ and are taken within boats with closed sides, where they bathe apart from the common herd. men and women, old and young, high and low (except the outcasts)--all come. there are once-brown hindus with their skins turned to snowy whiteness by leprosy, men with limbs swollen to four or five times natural size by elephantiasis, palsied men and women broken with age, who hope to win heaven (or that impersonal absorption into the divine essence which is the nearest hindu approach to our idea of heaven) by dying in the sacred place. a great many pilgrims--may god have pity, as he will, on their poor untutored souls--die in despair, worn out by weakness and disease, ere they reach benares with its balm of gilead which they seek; but many other aged or afflicted ones die happier for the knowledge that they have reached their holy city, and that their ashes, after the quick work of the morrow's funeral pyre, will be thrown on the waters of the ganges. "_rama, nama, satya hai_" (the name of rama is true): so i heard the weird chant as four men bore past me the rigid red-clad figure of a corpse for the burning. no coffins are used. the body is wrapped in white if a man's, in red if a woman's, strapped on light bamboo poles, and before { } breakfast-time the burning wood above and beneath the body has converted into a handful of ashes that which was a breathing human being when the sun set the day before. other writers have commented on the few evidences of grief that accompany these hindu funerals. in calcutta mourners are sometimes hired--for one anna a hindu can get a professional mourner to wail heart-breakingly at the funeral of his least-loved mother-in-law--but somehow the relatives of the dead themselves seem to show little evidence of grief. "but where are the bereaved families?" i asked a hindu priest as we looked at a few groups of men and woman sitting and talking around the fires from whence came the gruesome odor of burning human flesh. "oh, those are the families you see there," he replied. and sure enough they were--i suppose--although i had thought them only the persons hired to help in the cremation. one ghastly feature of the funerals occurs when the corpse is that of a father. just before the cremation is concluded it is the son's duty--in some places i visited, at least--to take a big stick and crack the skull in order to release his father's spirit! but, after all, reverting to the question of mourning, why should the hindu mourn for his dead? human life, in his theology, is itself a curse, and after infinite rebirths, the soul running its course through the bodies of beasts and men, the ultimate good, the greatest boon to be won from the propitiated gods, is "remerging in the general soul," the escape from being, escape from the illusions of sense and self; not annihilation itself but the annihilation of personality, of that sense of separateness from the divine which our encasement in human bodies gives us. where christianity teaches that you are a son of god and that you will maintain a separate, conscious, responsible identity throughout eternity, hinduism teaches that your spirit is a part of the divine and will ultimately be reabsorbed into it. its doctrine in this respect is much like that of buddhism. inevitably neither religion { } lays that emphasis on personality, the sacredness of the individual life, which is inherent in christianity and christian civilization, just as the absence of this principle is characteristic of the social and political institutions of the orient. { } [illustration: types at darjeeling, northern india, and at delhi, central india.] india has not a homogeneous population. there are almost as many races, types, and languages as in the continent of europe. the right-hand figure in the upper picture bears a striking resemblance to a north american indian. the instrument in his hands is a praying-wheel. { } two rangoon types. [illustration: supi-yaw-lat and her "whackin' white cheroot."] [illustration: a hindu girl.] rangoon is a city of gorgeous colors and varied human types. but one need not go far to find the burmese girl kipling has immortalized: "'er petticoat was yaller and 'er little cap was green, an er name was supi-yaw-lat--jes' the same as theebaw's queen an' i seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot. an' a wastin' christian kisses on a 'eathen idol's foot'" { continued} but let us get back to benares and its pilgrims. they do not all die, nor do they spend all their time bathing in the sacred waters of "mother gunga," as the ganges is called. naturally there are many temples in which they must worship, many priests whom they must support. there are said to be temples in benares and the high priest of one of them--while sparring for a bigger tip for his services--told me that he was at the head of priests supported by his establishment alone (the golden temple). and such temples as they are! i have seen the seamy side of some great cities, but for crass and raw vulgarity and obsceneness there are "temples" in benares--so-called "temples" that should minister to man's holier nature, with so-called "priests" to act as guides to their foulness--that could give lessons to a third-rate bowery den. no wonder that the government of india, when it made a law against indecent pictures and carvings, had to make a special exception for hindu "religious"(!) pictures. there is a limit, however, even to the endurance of the british government, and at the nepalese temple i was told that the authorities do not allow such structures to be built now. moreover, it is not only admitted that the temples in many parts of india are the resort of the lowest class of women, "temple girls" dedicated to gods and goddesses, but their presence is openly defended as proper. most of the temples in benares, too, are as far from cleanliness as they are from godliness. the golden temple with its sacred cows penned up in dirty stalls, its ragged half-naked worshippers, its holy cesspool known as "the well of knowledge," its hideous, leprosy-smitten beggars, its numerous emblems of its lustful god krishna, and its mercenary priests, { } is a good illustration. and the famous monkey temple (dedicated like the kalighat to mother kali) i found no more attractive. this temple is open to the sky and the most loathsome collection of dirty monkeys that i have ever had the misfortune to see were scrambling all around the place, while the monkey-mad, bloodstained, goat-killing priests, preying on the ignorance of the poor, and itching for a few annas in tips, won a place in my disgust second only to that occupied by their monkey companions. i left and went out to the gate where the snake-charmers were juggling with a dozen hissing cobras. it was pleasanter to look at them. that night an eminent english artist, temporarily in benares, discoursed to me at length though vaguely on the beauties of hindu religious theory, but what i had seen during the day did not help his argument. emerson's phrase may well be applied to hinduism, "what you are speaks so loud that i cannot hear what you say." not that it has anything to do with hinduism but simply to get a better taste in the mouth at the end, let us turn in conclusion to a happier subject. some days ago i went to darjeeling on the boundary of northern india and on the edge of the great himalaya mountain range. in sight from its streets and from nearby peaks are the highest mountains formed by the almighty's hand, the sublimest scenery on which the eye of mortal man may ever rest. long before daylight one morning i bestrode a sure-footed horse and wound my way, with two friends of a day, as friends on a foreign tour are likely to prove, to the top of tiger hill, from which point we looked across the boundaries of tibet and saw the sun rise upon a view whose majesty defied description. in the distance on our left there glittered in its mantle of everlasting snow, and with its twin attendants, the summit of mt. everest, , feet high, the highest mountain on the surface of the earth. even grander was the view directly in front of us, for there only one third as far away as everest, royal { } kinchinjunga shouldered out the sky, its colossal, granite masses, snow-covered and wind-swept, towering in dread majesty toward the very zenith. monarch of a white-clad semicircle of kingly peaks it stood, while the sun, not yet risen to our view, colored the pure-white of its crest with a blush of rose-tint, and in a minute or two had set the whole vast amphitheatre a-glitter with the warm hues of its earliest rays. across forty-five miles of massive chasms and rugged foothills (these "foothills" themselves perhaps as high as the highest alps or rockies) we looked to where, thousands of feet higher yet, there began the eternal snow-line of kinchinjunga, above which its further bulk of , additional feet formed a dazzling silhouette against the northern sky. stand at the foot of pike's peak and imagine another pike's peak piled on top; stand at the foot of mount mitchell and imagine four other mount mitchells on top of one another above its highest point--the massive bulk in either case stretching thousands and thousands of feet above the line of everlasting snow. such is kinchinjunga. spellbound we watched as if forbidden intruders upon a view it was not meet for any but the high gods themselves to see. about it all was a suggestion of illimitableness, of more than earthly majesty, of infinite serenity and measureless calm, which sat upon our spirits with a certain eerie unworldliness. it only confirmed an almost inevitable conjecture when i learned later that it was in sight of the himalayas that gautama buddha dreamed his dream of the nirvana and of its brooding and endless peace in which man's fretful spirit-- "from too much love of living from hope and fear set free"-- may find at last the rest that it has sought in vain through all our human realm of time and place. lucknow, india. { } xxi "the poor benighted hindus" great indeed are the uses of poetry. consider by way of illustration how accurately and comprehensively some forgotten bard in four short lines has pictured for us the true condition of the inhabitants of england's great indian empire: "the poor, benighted hindu, he does the best he kin do he sticks to his caste from first to last. and for pants he makes his skin do." a mr. micawber might dilate at length upon how this achievement in verse informs us ( ) as to the financial condition of the people, to wit, they are "poor," the average annual income having been estimated at only $ , and the average wages for day labor in the capital city of india only to cents per diem; ( ) as to their intellectual condition, "benighted," ninety men in each hundred being unable to read or write any language, while of every thousand indian women are totally illiterate; ( ) as to the social system, each man living and dying within the limits of the caste into which he is born; and ( ) as to the clothing, garb or dress of the inhabitants (or the absence thereof), the children of both sexes being frequently attired after the manner of our revered first parents before they made the acquaintance of the fig tree, while the adults also dispense generally with trousers, shoes, and stockings, and other impedimenta of our over-developed civilization. { } great indeed are the uses of poetry. in all my letters from india i shall hardly be able to do more than expand and enlarge upon the great fundamental truths so eloquently set forth in our four-line poetry piece. if it be sound logic to say that "god must have loved the common people because he made so many of them," then the creator must also have a special fondness for these "poor benighted hindus," for within an area less than half the size of the united states more than , , of them live and move and have their being. that is to say, if the united states were as thickly populated as india, it would contain , , people. it is also said that when the far-flung battle-line of imperial rome had reached its uttermost expansion that great empire had within its borders only half as many people as there are in india to-day. india and its next-door neighbor, china, contain half the population of the whole earth. in other words, if the chinese and east indians were the equals of the other races in military prowess the combined armies of all other nations on the globe, of every nation in europe, north america, south america, africa, australia, the isles of the sea, and of the rest of asia, would be required to defeat them. obviously, such a considerable portion of the human family calls for special study. and if we would study them we must not confine ourselves to a tour of a few cities in north india, interesting as these cities are. the significant man in india (where about eight tenths of the people live on the soil) is not the trader, a city-dweller in these few large centres of population, but the ryot or farmer, in the thousands and thousands of little mud-house villages between the himalaya slopes and cape comorin. the significant economic fact in india is not the millions of dollars once spent on royal palaces but the $ to $ spent in building this average peasant's home or hut. the significant social fact is not the income of some ancient mogul or some modern rajah { } estimated in lakhs of rupees, but the five or six cents a day which is a laborer's wage for millions and millions of the people. for these reasons i have been no more interested in the famous cities i have seen than in the little rural villages whose names may have never found place in an english book. let us get, if we can, a pen picture of one of these villages in north central india. as i approached it from a distance it looked like an enormous mass of ant-hills, for the low windowless one-story huts, as has been suggested, are made of yellowish sun-dried clay, and are often roofed with clay also--made flat on top with a little trench or gutter for drainage. perhaps the majority, however, have thick sloping roofs of straw, the eaves being hardly as high as a man's head. very thick are the mud walls of the houses, eighteen inches or more in most cases, and as the floor is also the bare earth, there is no woodwork about such a dwelling except the doors and a few poles to hold up the roof. in one or two small rooms of this kind without a window or chimney (oftener perhaps in one room than in two) a whole family lives, cooks, and sleeps. { } [illustration: a hindu faquir.] [illustration: some fashionable hindus.] the faquirs do not like to be photographed, and this follow in the upper picture was snapped just in the act of rising from his bed of spikes. this is only one of many methods of self-torture practised in the hope of winning the favor of the gods. { } [illustration: hindu children--notice the forehead caste marks.] { continued} the streets, if such they may be called, are often little more than crooked water-rutted paths, so narrow that one may reach from the mud walls of the houses on one side to the mud walls on the other, and so crooked that you are likely to meet yourself coming back before you get to the end. or perhaps you wind up unexpectedly in some _mahullah_--a group of huts representing several families of kinsfolk. enclosed by a mud wall, the little brown bright-eyed, black-haired, half-naked children are playing together in the little opening around which the houses are bunched, and the barefooted mothers are cooking _chapatis_, spinning cotton on knee-high spinning wheels, weaving in some wonderfully primitive way, gathering fuel, or are engaged in other household tasks. the equipment of one of these human ant-hills, called a home, is about as primitive as the building itself. there is, of course, a bed or cot: it is about { } half knee-high, and the heavy twine or light rope knitted together after the fashion of a very coarse fish-net is the only mattress. the coarse grain which serves for food is stored in jars; the meagre supply of clothing hangs in one corner of the room; there are no chairs, knives or forks. the stove or fireplace is a sort of small clay box for the fire, with an opening on top for the kettle or oven. in one corner of the room is the fuel: a few small sticks and dried refuse from cow stalls that americans use for fertilizing their fields. "we have found rather bad results," a missionary told me, "from providing indian girls with mattresses, chairs, knives, forks, etc., at our mission schools. later, when they marry our native workers, the $ -a-month income of the family (which is about all they can expect) is insufficient to provide these luxuries, and the girl's recollections of former comforts are likely to prove a source of dissatisfaction to her." at first you ask, "but why are there no windows in the houses? surely the people could leave openings in the clay walls that would give light and ventilation?" the answer is that most of the year the weather is so hot that the hope of the owner is to get as nearly cave-like conditions as possible; to find, as it were, a cool place in the earth, untouched by the fiery glare of the burning sun outside. even in north central india in the houses of the white men, where everything has been done to reduce the temperature and with every punkah-fan swinging the room's length to make a breeze, the temperature in may and june is or higher, and at midnight in the open air the thermometer may reach . "it is then no uncommon thing," a friend in agra told me, "to find even natives struck down dead by the roadside; and the railways have men designated to take and burn the bodies of those who succumb to the heat in travel by the cars." in such a warm climate the dress of the people, as has already been suggested, is not very elaborate. in fact, the garb of the adult man is likely to be somewhat like the uniform of the { } gunga din (the indian _bhisti_ or water-carrier for the british regiment): "the uniform 'e wore was nothin' much before an' rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind-- for a twisty piece o' rag and a goatskin water-bag was all the field equipment 'e could find." in cold weather, however, the majority of the men are rather fully covered, and in any case they add a turban or cap of some gaudy hue to the uniform just suggested. as for the dress of the women, a typical woman's outfit will consist of, say, a crimson skirt with a green border, a navy-blue piece of cloth as large as a sheet draped loosely (and quite incompletely) around the head and upper part of the body, and a breast-cloth or possibly a waist of brilliant yellow. this combination of hues, of course, is only a specimen. the actual colors are variable but the brilliancy is invariable. furthermore, the celebrated old lady of banbury cross, who boasted of rings, on her fingers and bells on her toes, would find her glory vanish in a twinkling should she visit india. not content with these preliminary beginnings of adornment, the barefooted hindu woman wears--if she can afford it--a band or two of anklets, bracelets halfway from wrist to elbow, armlets beyond the elbow, ear-rings of immense size, a necklace or two, toe-rings and a bejewelled nose-ring as big around as a turnip. sometimes the jewelry on a woman's feet will rattle as she walks like the trace-chains on a plow-horse on the way to the barn. this barbaric display of jewelry, it should be said, is not made solely for purposes of show. the truth is that the native has not grown used to the idea of savings banks (although the government is now gradually convincing him that the postal savings institutions are safe), and when he earns a spare rupee he puts it into jewelry to adorn the person of himself or { } his wife. if all the idle treasures which the poor of india now carry on their legs, arms, ears, and noses were put into productive industry, a good deal might be done to alleviate the misery for which the agitators profess to blame the british government. calcutta, india. { } xxii hindu farming and farm life in the rural villages, of course, the majority of the inhabitants are farmers, who fare afield each morning with their so-called plows or other tools for aiding the growth of their crops. the indian plow is, i believe, the crudest i have found in any part of the wide world. it consists of a simple handle with a knob at the top; a block of wood with an iron spike in it about an inch thick at one end and tapering to a point at the other; and a tongue to which the yoke of bullocks are attached. the pointed spike is, perhaps, sixteen inches long, but only a fraction of it projects from the wooden block into which it is fastened, and the ordinary plowing consists only of scratching the two or three inches of the soil's upper crust. the allabahad exposition was designed mainly to interest the farmers in better implements, and its official handbook, in calling attention to the exhibit of improved plows, declared: "the ordinary indian plow is, for certain purposes, about as inefficient as it could be. strictly speaking it is not a plow at all. it makes a tolerably efficient seed-drill, a somewhat inefficient cultivator, but it is quite incapable of breaking up land properly." the other tools in use on the indian farm are fit companions for the primitive plow. some one has said that cents would buy the complete cultivating outfit of the hindu ryot! i saw men cutting up bullock-feed with a sort of hatchet; the threshing methods are centuries old; the little sugarcane mills { } i found in operation here and there could have been put into bushel baskets. the big ox carts, which together with camel carts meet all the requirements of travel and transportation, are also heavy and clumsy, having wheels as big as we should use on eight-horse log-wagons at home. these wheels are without metal tires of any kind, and the average cost of one of the carts, a village carpenter told me, is $ . as to the other crops grown by the indian ryot, or farmer, i cannot perhaps give a better idea than by quoting the latest statistics as to the number of acres planted to each as i obtained them from the government authorities in calcutta. rice , , wheat , , barley , , millets , , maize , . other grains , , fodder crops , , oilseeds: linseed, mustard, sesamum, etc. , , sugarcane , , cotton , , jute , , opium (for china) , tobacco , , orchard and garden , , it is somewhat surprising to learn that of the , , acres under cultivation to supply , , people (the united states last year cultivated , , acres to supply , , ) only , , acres were cropped more than once during the year. with the warm climate of india it would seem that two or more crops might be easily grown, but the annual dry season makes this less feasible than it would appear to the traveller. even in january much artificial crop-watering must be done, and no one can travel in india long without growing used to the sight of the irrigation wells. around them the earth is piled high, and oxen hitched to the well ropes draw up the water in collapsible leather bags or buckets. a general system of elevated ditches then distributes the water where it is needed. concerning the drought, a resident of muttra said to me that { } there practically no rain falls from the middle of january to the middle of june. "in the latter part of the drought," he said, "the fields assume the appearance of deserts; only the dull green of the tree-leaves varies the vast, monotonous graybrown of the far-stretching plains. the streams are dried up; the cattle hunt the parched fields in vain for a bit of succulence to vary their diet of dry grass. but at last there comes the monsoon and the rains--and then the resurrection morning. the dead earth wakens to joyous fruitfulness, and what was but yesterday a desert has become a veritable garden of eden." but, alas! sometimes the rains are delayed--long, tragically long delayed! the time for their annual return has come--has passed, and still the pitiless sun scorches the brown earth as if it would set afire the grass it has already burned to tinder-dryness. the ryot's scanty stock of grain is running low, the daily ration has been reduced until it no longer satisfies the pangs of hunger, and with each new sunrise gaunt famine stalks nearer to the occupants of the mud-dried hut. the poor peasant lifts vain hands to gods who answer not; unavailingly he sacrifices to shiva, to kali, to all the heartless hindu deities of destruction and to unnamed demons as well. the ancient terror of india approaches; from time immemorial the vengeful drought has slain her people in herds, like plague-stricken cattle, not by hundreds and thousands, but by tens of thousands and hundreds of thousands. in calcutta i saw several young men whom the mission school rescued from starvation in the last great famine of - and heard moving stories of that terrible time. many readers will recall the aid that america then sent to the suffering, but in spite of the combined efforts of the british government and philanthropic christendom, , , people lost their lives. to get a better grasp upon the significance of these figures it may be mentioned that if every man, woman, and child in eight american states and territories at that time (delaware, utah, idaho, new mexico, arizona, montana, wyoming, and nevada) had been { } swallowed up in a night, the total loss of life would not have been so great as in this one indian famine. appalling as these facts are, it must nevertheless be remembered that the loss would have been vastly greater but for the excellent system of famine relief which the british government has now worked out. it has built railways all over india, so that no longer will it be possible for any great area to suffer while another district having abundance is unable to share its bounty because of absence of transportation. in the second place, the government has wisely arranged to give work at low wages to famine sufferers--road building, railroad building, or something of the kind--instead of dispensing a reckless charity which too often pauperizes those it is intended to help. before the british occupation india was scourged both by famine and by frequent, if not almost constant, wars between neighboring states. the fighting it has stopped entirely, the loss by drought it has greatly reduced; and some authority has stated (i regret that i have not been able to get the exact figures myself) that for a century before the british assumed control, war and famine kept the population practically stationary, while since then the number of inhabitants has practically trebled. not unworthy of mention, even in connection with its work in relieving famine sufferers, is the excellent work the british government is doing in enabling the farmers to free themselves from debt. the visitor to india comes to a keener appreciation of rudyard kipling's stories and poems of indian life because of the accuracy with which they picture conditions; and the second "maxim of hafiz" is only one of many that have gained new meaning for me since my coming: "yes, though a kafir die, to him is remitted jehannum, if he borrowed in life from a native at per cent. per annum."' when i first heard of " per cent, per annum," and even of per cent, or per cent., as the ordinary rate of interest paid { } by the indian ryot to the merchant or money-lender, i could not believe it, but further investigation proved the statement true. in the united provinces i found that in some cases the ryot has been little better than a serf. the merchant has "furnished him supplies," adding interest at the rate of one anna on each rupee at the end of each month-- - / per cent., not a year but a month, and that compounded every days! in one case that came to my attention, two orphan boys twenty years ago, in arranging the marriage of their sister, borrowed rupees at per cent, interest. for seventeen years thereafter they paid rupees each year as interest, until an american missionary took up the account at per cent, instead of , and in two years they had paid it off with only rupees more than they had formerly paid as annual tribute to the money-lender. in many such cases debts have been handed down from generation to generation, for the hindu code of honor will not permit a son to repudiate the debts of his father; and son, grandson, and great-grandson have, staggered under burdens they were unable to get rid of. in this situation the cooperative credit societies organized under government supervision have proved a godsend to the people, and thousands of ryots through their aid are now getting free of debt for the first time in their lives, and their families for perhaps the first time in generations. each member of a cooperative credit society has some interest in it; the government will lend at per cent, an amount not greater than the total amount deposited by all the members; stringent regulations as to loans and their security, deposit of surplus funds, accounting, etc., are in force, and altogether the plan is working remarkably well. the latest report i have shows that in a single twelvemonth the total working capital of these societies increased more than per cent. the united states seems to be about the only fairly civilized country in which some form of cooperative credit society, with government aid, has not been worked out. { } of great help to the small farmer also has been the action of the government in regulating land-rents in crowded districts. the courts see to it that no landlord raises rents unfairly. one brahmin freeholder i met in a small village (he owned acres, worth from $ to $ per acre) told me his rents were to rupees (or from $ to $ ) per acre. he grows wheat and cotton, and appeared to be quite intelligent as well as prosperous, although he wore nothing save a turban and an abbreviated lower garment not quite stretching from his loins to his knees, the rest of his body being entirely naked. that the day laborer in india can have but small hope of buying land at $ to $ an acre (and i think these prices general) is indicated by the fact that when i asked, in the next village, the wage per month, i was told, "four or five rupees ($ . to $ . ), the laborer boarding himself." "and how much is paid per day when a single day's labor is wanted?" i asked. "two annas and bread," was the reply. (an anna is cents.) my informant was the schoolmaster of khera kalan village. at his school he told me that the children of farmers were allowed tuition free; the children of the village people pay to annas a month. but so hard is the struggle to get enough coarse grain to keep soul and body together (the peasant can seldom afford to eat rice or wheat) that few farm children are free from work long enough to learn to read and write. it is heartbreaking to see the thousands and thousands of bright-eyed boys and girls growing up amid such hopeless surroundings. i shall not soon forget the picture of one little group whom i found squatted around a missionary's knees in a little mud-walled yard just before i left khera kalan that afternoon. outside a score of camels were cropping the leaves from the banyan trees (the only regular communication with the outside world is by camel cart) and the men of the village { } were grinding sugarcane on the edge of the far-reaching fields of green wheat and yellow-blossomed mustard. not far away was a hindu temple; not far away, too, the historic grand trunk road which leads through khyber pass into the strange land of afghanistan. it is the road, by the way, over which alexander the great marched his victorious legions into india, and over which centuries later tamerlane came on his terror-spreading invasion. but this has nothing to do with the little half-naked boys and girls we are now concerned with. they had gathered around the padre to recite the ten commandments and the lord's prayer in hindustani. i asked how many had been to school (only one responded), asked something about their games, told them something about america, and then their instructor inquired (interpreting all the time for me, of course): "and what message would you like for the sahib to give the boys and girls of america for you?" "tell them, salaam," was the quick chorus in reply. "and that is good enough, i guess," remarked the american who is now giving his life to the indian people, "for salaam means. peace be to you." so indeed i pass on the message to the fortunate boys and girls of the united states who read this article. "salaam,"--peace be to you. little ones. you will never even know how favored of heaven you are in having been born in a land where famine never threatens death to you and your kindred, where the poor have homes that would seem almost palatial to the average indian child; where educational opportunities are within the reach of all; where the religion of the people is an aid to moral living and high ideals instead of being a hindrance to them; where no caste system decrees that the poorest children shall not rise above the condition of their parents; where a wage-scale higher far than six cents a day enables the poorest to have comforts and cherish ambitions; and where the humblest "boy born in a log cabin" may dream of the presidency instead { } of being an outcast whose very touch the upper orders would account more polluting than the touch of a beast. ah, the little fate-cursed indian brats, some of them wearing rings in their noses and not much else, who send the message through me to you--think of them to-night and be glad that to you the lines have fallen in pleasanter places. salaam, indeed, o happy little folk of my own homeland across the seas! peace be to you! jeypore, india. { } xxiii the caste system in india of hinduism as a religious or ecclesiastical institution we had something to say in another chapter; of hinduism as social fact bare mention was made. and yet it is in its social aspects, in its enslavement of all the women and the majority of the men who come within its reach, that hinduism presents its most terrible phases. for hinduism is caste and caste is hinduism. upon the innate, heaven-ordained superiority of the brahmin and the other twice-born castes, and upon the consequent inferiority of the lower castes, the whole system of brahminism rests. originally there were but four castes: the brahmin or priest caste who were supposed to have sprung from the head of brahma or god; the kshatriya or warrior caste who sprang from his arms, the vasiya or merchant and farmer class who sprang from his thigh, and the sudra or servant and handicraftsmen class who came from his feet. the idea of superiority by birth having once been accepted as fundamental, however, these primary castes were themselves divided and subdivided along real or imaginary lines of superiority or inferiority until to-day the official government statistics show castes in india. you cannot marry into any one of the other classes of hindus; you cannot eat with any of them, nor can you touch any of them. thus caste is the curse of india. it is the very antithesis of democracy--blighting, benumbing, paralyzing to all aspiration and all effort at change or improvement. { } no man may rise to a higher caste than that into which he is born; but he may fall to a lower one. there is no opportunity for progress; the only way to move is backward. don't kick against the pricks therefore. you were born a brahmin with wealth and power because you won the favor of the gods in some previous existence; or you were born a sudra, predestined to a life of suffering and semi-starvation, because in your previous existence you failed to merit better treatment from the gods. if you are only a sweeper, be glad that you were not born a pig or a cobra. kismet, fate, has fixed at birth your changeless station in this life; and, more than this, it has written on your brow the things which must happen to you throughout your whole existence. the brahmin put himself into a position of superiority and then said to all the other classes: rebel not at the inequalities of life. they are ordained of the gods. the good that the higher castes enjoy is the reward of their having conducted themselves properly in previous existences. submit yourself to your lot in the hope that with obedience to what the brahmins tell you, you may possibly likewise win birth into a higher caste next time. but strike a brahmin even so much as with a blade of grass and your soul shall be reborn into twenty and one lives of impure animals before it assumes human shape again. never in human history has the ingenuity of a ruling class devised a cleverer or a crueller mode of perpetuating its supremacy. never has there been a religion more depressing, more hopeless, more deadening to all initiative. "_jo hota so hota_,"--"what is happening was to happen"--so said the wounded men who had gone to the bombay hospital to have their limbs amputated a few days before i got there. "it is written on my forehead," a man will often say with stoical indifference when some calamity overtakes him, in allusion to the belief that on the sixth night after birth vidhata writes on every man's forehead the main events of his life-to-be, and no act { } of his can change them. "i was impelled of the gods to do the deed," a criminal will say in the courts. "and i am impelled of the gods to punish you for it," the judge will sometimes answer. if plague comes, the natives can only be brought by force to observe precautions against it. "if we are to die, we shall die; why offend the gods by attempting interference with their plans?" the fatalism of the east as expressed by omar khayyam is the daily creed of india's millions: "we are no other than a moving row of magic shadow-shapes that come and go. . . . "but helpless pieces of the game he plays upon this checkerboard of nights and days." it is in this fatalistic conception of life that caste is rooted; but for this belief that all things are predestined, no people would ever have been so spiritless as to submit to the tyranny of the caste system. perhaps it should also be added that the belief in the transmigration of the soul has also had a not inconsiderable influence. though you have fared ill in this life, a million rebirths may be yours ere you finally win absorption into brahma, and in these million future lives the gods may deal more prodigally with you. indeed, the things you most desire may be yours in your rebirth. "you are interested in india; therefore you may have your next life as an indian," an eminent hindu said to me. but heaven forbid! at any rate, with this double layer of nourishing earth--the belief, first, that what you are now is the result of your actions in previous lives, and, secondly, that there are plenty more rebirths in which any merit you possess may have its just recompense of reward, the caste system has flourished like the psalmist's green bay tree, though its influence has been more like that of the deadly upas. if you are a high-caste man you may not only refuse to eat with or touch a low-caste man, your equal perhaps in { } intelligence and in morals, but in some cases you may even demand that the low-caste man shall not pollute you by coming too near you on the road. on page of the "census of india report" will be found a table showing at what distances the presence of certain inferior classes become contaminating to a brahmin! moreover, the low-caste man, offensive to men, is taught that he is equally offensive to the gods. he must not worship in the temples; must not even approach them. usually it is taken for granted that no pariah will take such a liberty, but in some places i have seen signs in english posted on the temple gates warning tourists who have low-caste servants that these servants cannot enter the sacred buildings. not only are these creatures of inferior orders vile in themselves, but the work which they do has also come to be regarded as degrading. a high-caste man will not be caught doing any work which is "beneath him." the cook will not sweep; the messenger boy would not pick up a book from the floor. the liveried brahmin who takes your card at the american consulate in calcutta once lost his place rather than pick up a slipper; rather than humiliate himself in such fashion he would walk half a mile to get some other servant for the duty. it is no uncommon thing to find that your servant will carry a package for you, but will hire another servant if a small package of his own is to be moved. "i had a boy for thirteen years, the best boy i ever had, till he died of the plague," a bombay englishman said to me, "and he shaved me regularly all the time. but when i gave him a razor with which to shave himself, i found it did no good. he would have 'lost caste' if he had done barber's work for anybody but a european!" "i have a good sweeper servant," a calcutta minister told me, "but if i should attempt to promote him beyond his caste and make a house-servant of him, every other servant i have would leave, including my cook, who has been a christian twenty years!" the absurdities into which the caste system runs are well { } illustrated by some facts which came to my notice on a visit to a school for the dom caste conducted by some english people in benares. the doms burn the bodies of the dead at the ganges ghats, and do other "dirty work." incidentally they form the "thief caste" in benares, and whenever a robbery occurs, the instant presumption is that some dom is guilty. for this reason a great number of doms (they belong to the gypsy class and have no houses anywhere) make it a practice to sleep on the ground just outside the police station nearly all the year round, reporting to the authorities so as to be able to prove an alibi in case of a robbery. so low are the doms that to touch anything belonging to one works defilement; consequently they leave their most valuable possessions unguarded about their tents or shacks, knowing full well that not even a thief of a higher caste will touch them. "we had a servant," a benares lady said to me, "who lost his place rather than take up one end of a forty-foot carpet while a dom had hold of the other end. the new bearer, his successor, did risk helping move a box with a dom handling the other side of it, but he was outcasted for the action, and it cost him rupees to be reinstated. and until reinstated, of course, he could not visit kinsmen or friends nor could friends or kinsmen have visited him even to help at a funeral; his priest, his barber, and his washerman would have shunned him. again, our bearer, who is himself an outcast in the eyes of the brahmins, will not take a letter from the hands of our dom chiprassi or messenger boy. instead, the messenger boy drops the letter on the floor, and the bearer picks it up and thus escapes the pollution that would come from actual contact with the chiprassi." moreover, there are social gradations even among the doms. one dom proudly confided to this lady that he was a sort of superior being because the business of his family was to collect the bones of dead animals, a more respectable work than that in which some other doms engaged! similarly, mrs. lee of the memorial mission in calcutta { } tells how one day when a dead cat had to be moved from her yard her sweeper proudly pulled himself up and assured her that, though the lowest among all servants, he was still too high to touch the body of a dead animal! my mention of the doms as the thief caste of benares makes this a suitable place to say that i was surprised to find evidences of a well-recognized hereditary robber class in not a few places in india. the thugs, or professional murderers, have at last been exterminated, but the english government has not yet been able to end the activities of those who regard the plunder of the public as their immemorial right. in delhi a friend of mine told me that the watchmen are known to be of the robber class. "you hire one of them to watch your house at night, and nothing happens to you. i noticed once or twice that mine was not at his post as he should have been, but had left his shoes and stick. he assured me that this was protection enough, as the robbers would see that i had paid the proper blackmail by hiring one of their number as chowkidar." in madura, in southern india, i found the robber element carrying things with a much higher hand. "there's where they live," dr. j. p. jones, the well-known writer on indian affairs, said to me as we were coming home one nightfall, "and the people of madura pay them a tribute amounting to thousands of rupees a year. they have a god of their own whom they always consult before making a raid. if he signifies his approval of a robbery, it is made; otherwise, not--though it is said that the men have a way of tampering with the verdict so as to make the god favor the enterprise in the great majority of cases." india's most famous tree, the banyan, grows by dropping down roots from a score or a hundred limbs; these roots fasten themselves in the earth and later become parent trees for other multiplying limbs and roots, until the whole earth is covered. in much the same fashion the indian caste system has { } developed. instead of the four original castes there are now more than five hundred times that number, and the system now decrees irrevocably before birth not only what social station the newborn infant shall occupy from the cradle to the grave (or from the time the conch shell announces the birth of a man-child till the funeral pyre consumes his body, to use indian terminology), but also decrees almost as irrevocably what business he may or may not follow. a little american girl of my acquaintance once announced that she hadn't decided whether she would be a trained nurse, a chorus-girl, or a missionary; but hinduism leaves no one in any such embarrassing quandary. whether a man is to be a priest or a thief is largely decided for him before he knows his own name. "but isn't the system weakening now?" the reader asks, as i have also asked in almost every quarter of india. the general testimony seems to be that it is weakening, and yet in no very rapid manner. eventually, no doubt, it will die, but it will die hard. a few weeks ago, a parliament of religions was held in connection with the allabahad exposition, with his highness the maharaja of darbhanga as the presiding officer. in the course of his "presidential address" the maharaja delivered a lengthy eulogy of the caste system, resorting in part to so specious an argument as the following: "if education means the drawing forth of the potentialities of a boy and fitting him for taking his ordained place as a member of society, then the caste system has hitherto done this work in a way which no other plan yet contrived has ever done. the mere teaching of a youth a smattering of the three r's and nothing else in a primary school is little else than a mere mockery. under the caste system the boys are initiated and educated almost from infancy into the family industry, trade, profession, or handicraft, and become adepts in their various lines of life almost before they know it. this unique system of education is one of the blessings of our caste arrangement. we know that a horse commands a high price in the market if it has a long pedigree behind it. it is not unreasonable to presume that a carpenter whose forefathers have followed the same trade for centuries will be a better carpenter than one who is new to the trade--all other advantages being equal." { } in the phrase, "his ordained place as a member of society," we have the keynote of the philosophy upon which the whole caste system rests. it suits the maharaja of darbhanga to have the people believe that his sons were "ordained" of heaven to be rulers, even if "not fit to stop a gully with," and the sudra's sons "ordained" to be servants, no matter what their qualities of mind and soul. but the caste system is rotting down in other places and some time or other this "ordained" theory will also give way and the whole vast fabric will totter to the ruin it has long and richly merited. the introduction of railways has proved one of the great enemies of caste. men of different rank who formerly would not have rubbed elbows under any considerations sit side by side in the railway cars--and they prefer to do it rather than travel a week by bullock-cart to reach a place which is but a few hours by train. consequently the priests have had to wink at "breaking caste" in this way, just as they had to get around the use of waterworks in calcutta. according to the strict letter of the law a hindu may not drink water which has been handled by a man of lower caste (in muttra i have seen brahmins hired to give water to passersby), but the priests decided that the payment of water-rates might be regarded as atonement for the possible defilement, and consequently hindus now have the advantages of the city water supply. foreign travel has also jarred the caste system rather severely. the hindu statutes strictly forbid a man from leaving the boundaries of india, but the folk have progressed from technical evasion of the law to open violation of its provisions. in jeypore i saw the half-acre of trunks and chests which the maharaja of that province used for transporting his goods and chattels when he went to attend the coronation of the king of england. the maharaja is a hindu of the hindus, claims descent from one of the high and mighty gods, and when he was named to go to london, straightway declared that the { } caste law against leaving india stood hopelessly in the way. finally, however, he was convinced that by taking all his household with him, his servants, his priests, material for setting up a hindu temple, a six-months' supply of ganges water, etc., he might take enough of india with him to make the trip in safety, and he went. now many are going without any such precautions, and a moderate fee paid to the priests usually enables them to resume caste relations upon their return. sometimes, however, the penalties are heavier. a hindu merchant of amritsar, who grew very friendly with a delhi friend of mine on a voyage from europe, said just before reaching bombay: "well, i shall have to pay for all this when i get home, and i shall be lucky if i get off without making a pilgrimage to all the twelve sacred places of our religion. and in any case i shall never let my wife know that i have broken caste by eating with foreigners." my impression is, however, that only in a very few cases now is the crime of foreign travel punished so severely. in madras i met one of the most eminent hindu leaders, mr. krishnaswami iyer. "caste has kept me from going abroad until now," he told me, "but i have made up my mind to let it interfere no longer. just as soon as business permits, i shall go to europe and possibly to america." christianity is another mightily effective foe of caste. as in the olden days, it exalts the lowly and humbles the proud. in muttra i found a converted high-caste brahmin acting as sexton of a christian church whose members are sweepers--outcast folk whom as a hindu he would have scorned to touch. on the other hand, the acceptance of christianity frees a man from the restrictions imposed upon a low caste, even though it does not give him the privileges of a higher caste and thus often wins for the christianized hindu higher regard from all classes. thus there was in moradabadad some years ago the son of a poor sweeper who became a christian, and was a youth of such fine promise that a way was { } found for him to attend oxford university. returning, he became a teacher in moradabadad mission school and won such golden opinions from his townspeople that when he died the whole city--hindus, mohammedans and christians alike--stopped for his funeral. in its present elaborate form the caste system is undoubtedly doomed. it is too purely artificial to endure after the people acquire even a modicum of education. perhaps it was planned originally as a means of preserving the racial integrity and political superiority of the aryan invaders, but for unnumbered centuries it has been simply a gigantic engine of oppression and social injustice. at the present time no blood or social difference separates the great majority of castes from the others: each race is divided into hundreds of castes; and so high an authority as mr. krishnaswami iyer assured me that even in the beginning all the castes save the sudras were of the same race and blood. if the purpose of caste, however, be in part to prevent the intermarriage of radically different races, this may be accomplished, as it is accomplished in our own southern states, without restricting the right of the individual to engage in any line of work for which he is fitted or to go as high in that work as his ability warrants. booker washington, born in the south's lowest ranks, becomes a world-figure; had he been born in india's lowest caste, he would have remained a burner of dead bodies. to compare the south's effort to preserve race integrity with india's juggernaut of caste is absurd. bombay, india. { } xxiv the plight of the hindu woman in india marriage is as inevitable as death, as herbert compton remarks. there are no bachelors or old maids. children in their cradles are not infrequently given in marriage by their parents; they are sometimes promised in marriage (contingent upon sex) before they are born. "you are married, of course?" the zenana women will ask when an american bible-woman calls on them; and, if the answer is in the negative, "why not? couldn't they get anybody to have you?" "every girl at fourteen must be either a wife or a widow," is an indian saying almost unexceptionally true. and the lot of woman is hard if she be a wife; it is immeasurably harder if she be a widow. hinduism enslaves a majority of the men within its reach; of the women within its reach it enslaves all. i think it was george william curtis who said, "the test of a civilization is its estimate of woman"; and if we are to accept this standard, hindu civilization must take a place very near the bottom. in the great temple at madura are statues of "the jealous husband" who always carried his wife with him on his shoulder wherever he went; and the attitude of the man in the case is the attitude of hinduism as a system. it bases its whole code of social laws upon the idea that woman is not to be trusted. their great teacher, manu, in his "dharma sastra" sums up his opinion of woman in two phrases: "it is the nature of woman in this world to cause men to sin. a female is able to draw from the right path, not a fool { } only, but even a sage." and the "code of hindu laws," drawn up by order of the indian government for the guidance of judges, declares: "a man both by day and by night must keep his wife so much in subjection that she by no means is the mistress of her own actions. if the wife have her own free will, notwithstanding she be sprung from a superior caste, she will behave amiss. a woman is not to be relied on." "confidence is not to be placed in a woman. if one trust a woman, without doubt he must wander about the streets as a beggar." in accordance with these ideas the life of the hindu woman has been divided into "the three subjections." in childhood she must be subject to her father; in marriage to her husband; in widowhood to her sons or--most miserable of all!--lacking a son, to her husband's kinsmen. her husband is supposed to stand to her almost in the relation of a god. "no sacrifice is allowed to women apart from their husbands," says manu, "no religious rite, no fasting. in so far only as a wife honors her husband so far is she exalted in heaven." and a recent hindu writer says, "to obey the husband is to obey the vedas (the hindu scriptures). to worship the husband is to worship the gods." hinduism and the caste system, hard on the men, are doubly hard on the women. the women may no more rise above their caste than the male members of the family; and they are predestined to take up life's most serious duties before their fleeting childhood has spent itself. no wonder they look old before they are thirty! if any one doubts the prevalence of child-marriage in india, a trip through the country will very quickly dispel his doubts. a law enacted by the british government a few years ago decrees that while the marriage ceremonies may be performed at any age, the girl shall not go to her husband as his wife until she is twelve years old; but it is doubtful if even this mild measure is strictly enforced. in delhi i attended an elaborate { } and costly hindu wedding-feast and was told that the bride was "eleven or twelve" and would go to her husband's home (he lives with his father, of course) the following week. my travelling servant told me that he was married when he was sixteen and his wife ten, though she remained two years longer with her parents before coming to him. the first american lady i met in india was telling of a wedding she had recently attended, the bride being a girl of eleven and the groom a year or two older. in secunderabad a friend of mine found a week-old brahmin girl baby who had been given in marriage, and in the house where he visited was a ten-year-old girl who had been married two years before to a man of thirty. in prescribing a marriageable age for high-caste hindu girls manu named eight as a minimum age and twelve as the maximum. the father who delays finding a husband for his daughter until after she is twelve is regarded as having committed a crime--though it must always be remembered that girls and boys in india mature a year or two younger than boys and girls in the united states. one reason for arranging early marriages is that the cost increases with the age of the girl, and the wedding ceremonies in all cases are expensive enough. weddings in india furnish about as much excitement as circuses at home. my first introduction to a hindu wedding was in agra one sunday afternoon--though sunday in the orient, of course, is the same as any other day--and the shops were in full blast (if such a strenuous term may be used concerning the serene and listless hindu merchant) and the craftsmen and potters were as busy as they ever are. from afar the sound of drums smote my ear, and as the deafening hullabaloo came nearer its volume and violence increased until it would have sufficed to bring down the walls of jericho in half the time joshua took for the job. just behind the drummers came two gorgeously clad small boys astride an ass begarlanded with flowers; and when the musicians stopped for a minute to tighten their drums so as { } to make confusion worse confounded, i made inquiry as to the meaning of the procession. then it developed that the eight-year-old small boy in front, dressed in red and yellow silk and gauze and who ought to have been at home studying the second reader, was on his way to be married, and the little chap riding behind him was the brother of the bride. it was very hard to realize that such tots were not merely "playing wedding" instead of being principal participants in a serious ceremony! the wedding-feast which i attended in delhi was arranged for a couple who came from the higher ranks of hindu society, and though no one could have asked for a more gracious welcome than my american friend and i received, i very much doubt if any one of the high-caste folk about us would have condescended to eat at the same table with us even to end a three-days' hunger. the groom, harri ram by name, was a nice-looking boy of fourteen, clad in a velvet suit and apparently pleased with the show of which he was it. there had already been a three or four days' wedding ceremony at the bride's house, we were told, and this was the fifth and last day of the ceremonies and feasts arranged by the groom's father. one thousand people had been invited and, judging from the richness of the food with which we were served, i should think that my friend's estimate of the total cost, rupees, or $ , was none too high. not only are the wedding ceremonies expensive, but a poor father, or a father with several daughters to find husbands for, must often strain his credit to the utmost in providing dowries. it is said that among the humbler classes a father will sometimes mortgage his wages for life to secure money for this purpose. then, too, the marriage-broker or middleman who has gone to the groom's father with the story that the bride is "as beautiful as the full moon, as graceful as a young elephant, and with a voice as sweet as a cuckoo's"--he must also be paid for his indispensable services. { } not to be envied is the little damsel of twelve who leaves her childhood home and goes out as the bride of a boy or man--whose face she may never have seen but once or twice--to take up the hard life of a hindu wife in the home of her father-in-law and mother-in-law. yet from her infancy she has been bred in an atmosphere full of suggestion of the inferiority of womankind, and to her it is probably not so galling as we fancy that she is never accounted worthy of eating at the same table with her husband, but must be content with what he leaves. even christianity can move but slowly in bringing the people to a higher appreciation of the dignity of womanhood. "some of my girls are engaged to be married," mrs. lee, of the lee memorial home in calcutta, said to me, "and when their fiances come to call, after the christian fashion, the girls must remain standing as inferiors while the boys are seated." once married, the hindu wife has two things to dread: either that her husband may die or that he may supplant her by a second wife. if she lives seven years as a wife without giving birth to a son, the husband is authorized by law and religion to take a second spouse; and in nearly all such cases the lot of the first wife is a hard one. rev. w. j. wilkins says that a servant in his employ married a second wife and insisted that the first should not only support herself but contribute the bulk of her wages for the support of wife no. . the older wife is tantalized by the thought that she herself was selected by the parents of her husband, while the new wife is probably his own choice; and another cause of jealousy is found in the new wife's youth. for no matter how old the man himself may be--forty, fifty or sixty--his bride is always a girl of twelve or thereabouts--and for the very simple reason that practically no girls remain single longer, and widows are never allowed to remarry. a story was told me in bombay of a hindu in his fifties who was seeking a new wife and sent an agent to his native village and caste with power to negotiate. { } [illustration: the taj mahal from the entrance gate.] the most beautiful building on earth with a story no less beautiful than the building itself. { } [illustration: gunga din on dress parade.] ordinarily the indian water carrier, or _bhisti_, is attired more nearly after the manner described in kipling's poem: "the uniform 'e wore was nothing much before an' rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind. for a twisty piece o' rag and a goatskin leather bag was all the field equipment 'e could find." { } "my friends have persuaded me that i ought not to marry a very young girl," he said to the agent, "get an older one therefore--oh, it doesn't matter if she is twenty-four." the agent left and two days thereafter the hindu received this message: "can't find one of twenty-four. how about two of twelve each?" the sorrows of a superseded wife, however, are as nothing to the troubles of a hindu widow. the teaching of brahminism is that she is responsible through some evil committed either in this existence or a previous one, for the death of her husband, and the cruelest indignities of the hindu social system are reserved for the bereaved and unfortunate woman. if a man or boy die, no matter if his wife is yet a prattling girl in her mother's home, she can never remarry, but is doomed to live forever as a despised slave in the home of his father and mother. her jewels are torn from her; her head is shaved; and she is forced to wear clothing in keeping with the humiliation the gods are supposed to have justly inflicted upon her. in a school i visited in calcutta i was told that there were two little widows, one five years old and one six. formerly and up to the time that the british government stopped the practice less than a century ago, it was regarded as the widow's duty to burn herself alive on her husband's funeral pyre. "it is proper for a woman after her husband's death," said the old code of hindu laws, "to burn herself in the fire with his corpse. every woman who thus burns herself shall remain in paradise with her husband , , years by destiny. if she cannot burn, she must in that case preserve an inviolable chastity." this rite of self-immolation was known as suttee, and it is said that in bengal alone a century ago the suttees numbered one hundred a month. it was an old custom to set up a stone with carved figures of a man and a woman to mark the spot where a widow had performed suttee, and travellers to-day still find these gruesome and barbaric memorials here and there along the indian roadsides. { } moreover, the present general treatment of widows in india is so heartbreakingly cruel that many have been known to declare that they would prefer the suttee. and yet we may be sure that the picture is not wholly dark; that a kind providence mingles some sunshine with the shadows which blacken the skies of indian womanhood. men are often better than their customs and sometimes better than their religions. the high-caste hindu and mohammedan women who are supposed to keep their faces veiled and (in the case of the hindus at least) must not even look out of the windows of their zenanas, manage to get a little more freedom than the strict letter of the law allows; and the hindu father and husband, doing good by stealth, sometimes pours out in secret an affection for his womenfolk which it would not be seemly for the world to know about. standing with a friend of mine on a high flat housetop in calcutta one day, i saw a hindu father on the next-door housetop proudly and lovingly walking and talking with his daughter who was just budding into maidenhood. "his affection is quite unmistakable," my friend said to me, "and yet if in public, he would never give any sign of it." nor can the lot of the indian woman ever be regarded as hopeless while the country holds the peerless taj mahal, the most beautiful monument ever erected in memory of a woman's love. true, shah jehan, the monarch who built it, was not a hindu: he was a mohammedan. and yet mohammedanism, although its customs are less brutal, places woman in almost the same low position as hinduism. in considering the status of woman in india, therefore, scorned alike by both the great religions of the country, it is gratifying to be able to make an end by referring to this loveliest of all memorial structures. of all that i saw in india, excepting only the magnificent view of the himalayas from tiger hill, i should least like to forget the view of the taj mahal in the full glory of the indian full moon. the inscription in persian characters over the archway, "only the pure in heart may enter the garden of god," { } is enough to assure one that arjmand banu, "the exalted one of the palace," whose dust it was built to shelter, was a queen as beautiful in character as she was in form and feature. we know but little about her. there are pictures which are supposed to carry some suggestion of her charm; there are records to show that it was in that she became the bride of the prince who later began to rule as "his imperial highness, the second alexander (lord of the two horns) king shah jehan," and we may see in agra the rooms in the palace where she dwelt for a time in the arabian nights-like splendor characteristic of oriental courts, "mumtaz-i-mahal," they called her--"pride of the palace." and seven times arjmand banu walked the ancient way of motherhood--that way along which woman finds the testing of her soul, the mystic reach and infinite meaning of her existence, as man must find his in some bitter conflict that forever frees him from the bonds of selfishness. seven times she walked the mother's ancient way down to the gates of death and brought back a new life with her, but the eighth time she did not return. and grief-stricken shah jehan, carrying in his heart a sorrow which not all his pomp nor power could heal, declared that she should have the most beautiful tomb that the mind of man could plan. so the taj was built--"in memory of a deathless love," and in a garden which is always sweet with the odor of flowers, at the end of an avenue of fountains and stately cypress trees, and guarded by four graceful, heaven-pointing minarets, "like four tall court-ladies tending their princess," there stands this dream in marble, "the most exquisite building on earth." with the memory of its beautiful dome and sculptured detail in our thoughts, let us take leave of our subject; trusting that the taj itself, like a morning star glittering from a single rift in a darkened sky, may form the prophecy of a fairer dawn for the womanhood of the country in which it is so incongruously placed. madras, india. { } xxv more leaves from an india note-book there are many show places and "points of interest" in india that have a hundred times more attention in the guide books, but there is a simple tomb in lucknow--it cost no more than many a plain farmer's tombstone in our country burying-places--which impressed me more than anything else i saw excepting only the himalayas, the taj mahal and the view of benares from the river. it is the tomb of the heroic sir henry lawrence, who died so glorious a death in the great mutiny of . no commander in all india has planned more wisely for the defence of the men and women under his care; and yet the siege had only begun when he was mortally wounded. he called his successor and his associates to him, and at last, having omitted no detail of counsel or information that might enable them to carry out his far-seeing plans, he roused himself to dictate his own immortal epitaph: here lies henry lawrence who tried to do his duty may the lord have mercy on his soul. and so to-day these lines, "in their simplicity sublime," mark his last resting place; and one feels somehow that not even the great akbar in secundra or napoleon in paris has a worthier monument. { } there are many places in india to which i should like to give a paragraph. i should like to write much of delhi and its palaces in which the great moguls once lived in a splendor worthy of the monarchs in the arabian nights--no wonder the stately diwan-i-khas, or hall of public audience, bears the famous inscription in persian: "if there be paradise on earth. it is this, oh, it is this, oh, it is this!" in the ruins of seven dead and deserted delhis round about the present city and the monuments and memorials which commemorate "the old far-off unhappy things" of conquered dynasties and romantic epochs, there is also material for many a volume. then there is cawnpore with its tragic and sickening memories of the english women and children (with the handful of men) who were butchered in cold blood by the treacherous nana dhundu pant; and i was greatly interested in meeting in muttra one of the few living men, a christianized brahmin, who as a small boy witnessed that terrible massacre which for cruelty and heartlessness is almost without a parallel in modern history. in agra is the pearl mosque, which is itself an architectural triumph splendid enough to make the city famous if the taj had not already made it so; the great temple in madura is one of the most impressive of the strictly hindu structures in india; in madras i found a curious reminder of early missionary activity in the shape of a cathedral which is supposed to shelter the remains of the apostle thomas; and the ruins of the once proud and imperial but now utterly deserted cities of amber and fatehpuhr-sikri have a strange and melancholy interest. but all these have been often enough described, and there are things of greater pith and moment in present-day india to which we can better give attention. { } one thing concerning india, which should perhaps have been said in the beginning, but which has not had attention until now, is the fact that it is no more a homogeneous country than europe is--has perhaps, indeed, a greater variety of languages, peoples, and racial and traditional differences than the european continent. i have already called attention to the fact that there are castes. there are also distinct nationalities or races and languages. for an utterly alien race to govern peacefully such a heterogeneous conglomeration of peoples, representing all told nearly one fifth of the population of the whole earth, is naturally one of the most difficult administrative feats in history, and mr. roosevelt probably did not give the english too high praise when he declared: "in india we encounter the most colossal example history affords of the successful administration by men of european blood of a thickly populated region in another continent. it is the greatest feat of the kind that has been performed since the break-up of the roman empire. indeed, it is a greater feat than was performed under the roman empire." i was interested to find that the american-born residents of india give, if anything, even higher praise to british rule than the british themselves. "i regard the english official in india," one distinguished american in southern india went so far as to say to me, "as the very highest type of administrative official in the world. more than this, per cent. of the common people would prefer to trust the justice of the british to that of the brahmins." in delhi an american missionary expressed the opinion that the american government, if in control of india, would not be half so lenient with the breeders of sedition and anarchy as is the british government. it should be said, however, that there are now fewer of these malcontents, and these few are less influential than at any time for some years past. in madras i was very glad to get an interview with mr. krishnaswami iyer, one of the most distinguished of the hindu leaders. { } [illustration: bathing in the sacred ganges at benares.] { } [illustration: the battle-scarred and world-famous residency at lucknow.] the writer was shown through the historic fortress by william ireland, one of the few living survivors of the great siege. in muttra the writer also met isa doss, a hindu (now a christian preacher) who saw the massacre of the english women and children by the treacherous nana dhundu pant. { } "lord morley's reforms," he declared, "have been so extensive and have satisfied such a large proportion of our people that the extremists no longer have any considerable following. we no longer feel that it is england's intention to keep us in the condition of hopeless helots. the highest organization for the government of the country is the british secretary of state and his council; lord morley placed two indians there. in india the supreme governmental organization is the governor-general and his council; he put an indian there. in three large provinces--bombay, madras, and bengal--indians have been added to the executive councils." "for the first time, too, our people are really an influential factor in the provincial and imperial legislative councils. we have had representation in these councils, it is true, for fifty years; but it was not until that representation became considerable, and even then the right of the people to name members was not recognized. so-called constituencies were given authority to make nominations, but the government retained the right to reject or confirm these at pleasure." "now, however, through lord morley's and lord minto's reforms, the number of indians on these councils has been more than doubled--in the case of the imperial council actually trebled--and the absolute right given the people to elect a large proportion, averaging about per cent. of the total number, without reference to the wishes of the government. in fact, with two fifths of all the members chosen by the people and a considerable number of other members chosen from municipal boards, chambers of commerce, universities, etc., we now see the spectacle of provincial councils with non-official members in the majority. in bombay the non-official element is two thirds of the whole; and in madras also the non-official members could defeat the government if they chose to combine and do so. but of course the greater willingness of the government to cooperate with the people has brought { } about a greater willingness on the part of the people to cooperate with the government." "the appointment of indians to the highest offices charged with the responsibility of government; the increased representation given the people on the legislative and executive councils; the recognition of the right of the people to elect instead of merely to nominate members; and the surrender of majority-control to the non-official element--all these are very substantial gains, but the spirit back of them is worth more than the reforms themselves. while there is a feeling in some quarters that the government has not gone far enough, the large majority of my educated countrymen regard the advance as sufficient for the present and look forward with hope to a further expansion of our powers and privileges." if i may judge by what i gathered from conversation with hindus, mohammedans, parsees, i should say that no one has given a more accurate and clear-cut statement of the feelings of the indian people than has mr. krishnaswami iyer in these few terse sentences. "the wealth of the indies" has been a favorite phrase with romantic writers from time immemorial; and a book now before me speaks in the most matter-of-course way of "the prosperous and peaceful empire." yet the indian is really one of the poorest men on earth. the wealth with which the moguls and kings of former ages dazzled the world was wrung from the hard hands of peasants who were governed upon the theory that what the king wanted was his, and what he left was theirs. even the splendid palaces and magnificent monuments, such as the taj mahal, were built largely by forced, unpaid labor. in some cases it is said that the monarch did not even deign to furnish food for the men whom he called away from the support of their families. an ignorant people is always a poor people, and we have already seen that only per cent. of the men in india can read or write, and of these per cent. the majority are brahmins. { } then, again, the people use only the crudest tools and machinery; and a third factor in keeping them poor is the system of early marriage. when it is a common thing for a boy of fifteen or sixteen to be the father of a growing family, it is easy to see that not much can be laid up for rainy days. owing to the absence of diversified industries, the crudeness of the tools, the ignorance of the men behind the tools, and the over-crowded population of folk hard-pressed by poverty, the wages are what an american would call shamefully low. an englishman who had lived in an interior jungle-village, five days by bullock-cart from a railway, told me that twenty years ago laborers were paid rupees ( cents) a month, boarding themselves, or rupees ($ . ) a year and grain. the wages have now advanced, however, to rupees ($ . ) a month where the man boards himself; and for day labor the wages are now five annas ( cents) instead of two annas ( cents) twenty years ago. in madura a well-educated hindu with whom i was talking rang the familiar changes on the "increasing cost of living," and pointed out that in four or five years the cost of unskilled labor has increased from eight to twelve cents. "and in some towns," he declared, looking at the same time as if he feared i should not believe his story, "they are demanding as much as annas ( cents) a day!" in bombay i was told that coolies average to cents a day; spinners in jute factories, $ . a week, weavers, $ . . in a great cotton factory i visited in madras, employing about natives (all males) the average wages for eleven and a half hours' work is $ . to $ . a month. in ahmedabad, another cotton manufacturing centre, about the same scale is in force. miners get to cents a day. servants, $ . to $ . a month. the women in calcutta (some of them with their babies tied out to stakes while they worked) whom i saw carrying brick and mortar on their heads to the tops of three and four story buildings, get to annas a day-- to cents. in { } darjeeling the bowed and toil-cursed women laden like donkeys, whom i found bringing stone on their backs from quarries two or three miles away managed to make to cents a day for their bitter toil up steep hills and down, for eight long hours. women who carried lighter loads of mud, making trips averaging miles of travel, earned only cents, as did also the women with babies strapped on their backs, who nevertheless toiled as steadily as the others. "as for the men i pay these strong, brawny bhutia fellows annas ( cents) a day," the contractor told me, "but those nepalese who are not so strong get only annas for shovelling earth." director of agriculture couchman of the madras presidency gave me the following as the usual scale of wages for farm work: men to cents; women to ; children to , the laborers boarding themselves. with this mr. couchman, whom i have just mentioned, i had a very interesting interview in madras which should shed some light on indian agriculture. "in madras presidency," he told me, "we cultivate , , acres of rice, which is the favorite food of the people. as it is expensive compared with some cheaper foods, however, the people put , , acres to a sort of sorghum--not the sorghum cultivated for syrup or sugar but for the seed to be used as a grain food--and also grow , , acres of millet the seed of which are used as a grain food." "then we grow , , acres in cotton, but cotton in india is grown only on black soils. we want some for red soils, and we are also seeking to increase the yield and the length of staple in the indigenous varieties. in both these points the indian cotton now compares very badly with the american. our average yield is only about to pounds lint per acre, and the staple is only three quarters to five eights of an inch in length, and not suitable for spinning over s in warp." { } [illustration: burning the bodies of dead hindus.] [illustration: an indian camel cart.] { } [illustration: travel in india.] how the author and his friends made the trip from jeypore to amber { } "of course, with our dense population, land is high and our system of farming expensive. good irrigated wet land, used chiefly for rice, is worth from $ to $ per acre, renting for $ to $ ; dry land sells for $ to $ per acre and rents for from $ to $ . it is commonly said that a man and his family should make a living on two acres, and the usual one-man farm consists of to acres of wet land or to of dry. the wet land farmers are generally renters, the others owners. of course, you have noticed that no horses are used on the farms, nothing but bullocks; nor do i think that horses will be used for a long time to come. we are making some progress in introducing better methods of farming. little, of course, can be done with bulletins where such a small percentage of the people can read, but demonstration farms have proved quite successful, and the government is much pleased with the results obtained from employing progressive native farmers to instruct their neighbors." the advancing price of cotton has proved a matter of hardly less interest to india than to america, and for several years the crop has been steadily increasing. the - crop (the picking ended in may) was almost , , bales of pounds each. the necessity for growing food crops, however, is so imperative that the cotton acreage cannot be greatly increased--at least not soon. during our civil war, it will be remembered, india did her uttermost; and bombay laid the foundations of her greatness in the high prices then paid for the fleecy staple. hers is still a great cotton market and down one of her main streets from morning to night one sees an almost continuous line of cotton carts, drawn by bullocks and driven by men almost as black as our negroes in the south. i was very much interested in seeing how much better the lint is baled than in america. in the first place the bagging is better--less ragged than that we commonly use--and in the next place it is held in place by almost twice as many encircling bands or ties as our bales. { } all in all, i regret to say good-by to india. its people are poor; its industries primitive; its religion atrocious; its climate generally oppressive, and yet, after all, there is something fascinating about the country. for one thing, there is a large infusion of aryan blood among the people, and after one has spent several months among the featureless faces of the chinese and japanese, these aryan-type faces are strangely attractive. the speech of the people, too, is picturesque beyond that of almost any other folk, as readers of kipling have come to know. it is very common for a beggar to call out, "oh, protector of the poor, you are my father and mother, help me, help me." "i salute you," said our old guide at the kutab minar, speaking in his native hindustani, which my friend interpreted for me. "i know that you are the kings of the realm, but i have eaten your salt before, and i am willing to eat it again." at the end, of course, he wished a tip. "but ask him why i should give him anything," i said to my friend. replying, he mentioned first the number of his children, the blindness of his wife, and then dropped into the picturesque native plea: "besides, you are my father and mother, the king of the realm, and if i may not look to you, to whom shall i look?" "well, so much lying ought to be worth four annas," i said, and left him happier with the coin. there is one thing, of course, that would never do: it would never do to write about india without saying something about lions, tigers, and snakes. last of all, therefore, let me come to this topic. i didn't see any tigers, let me say frankly, except those in cages--though there was one in calcutta which had slain men and women before they caught him, and whose titanic fury as he lunged against his cage-bars, gnashing at the men before him, i shall never forget. a jackal howled at my room-door in jeypore one night; between jeypore and bombay monkeys { } were as thick as rabbits were in the old county where i was reared; in delhi only lack of time prevented me from getting interested in a leopard hunt not many miles away; en route to darjeeling i saw a wild elephant staked out in the woods near where he had evidently been caught; and near khera kalan i saw wild deer leaping with their matchless grace across the level plains. "in my district," one missionary told me, "five or six people a month are killed by tigers and panthers and even more by snakes. one panther carried off a man from my kitchen. we found his body half-eaten in the jungle. it is customary when a body is found in this condition for hunters to gather around it and await the return of the tiger or panther. he will come back when hungry, and there is no other way so sure for getting a man-eater." as for snakes, i may mention that when i spent the night with a friend in madura i was shown a place near the house where a deadly cobra had been seen (his bite kills in twenty minutes), while upon retiring i was given the comforting assurance that it was not safe to put my foot on the floor at night without having a light in the room! as i rode out with dr. j. p. jones, of pasamaila, he pointed to a grassy mound near the roadside and said. "see that grave over there? there's rather an interesting story connected with it which i'll tell you. one day about four years ago three snake-charmers came to my house, and as i had an american friend and his son with me, i decided for the boy's sake to have them try their art. only two of the men had flutes, but one went into my garden and one took up his post on another side of the house, and began to play. it wasn't long before one called out, 'cobra!' and sure enough there was the snake, which he captured; but on coming back he declared that he had been bitten. in fact, he showed a bruise, but i knew that snake-charmers counterfeit these bites, so i would not believe him. then the other charmer also cried { } 'cobra!' and captured another snake. they showed me the fangs of each serpent, and i gave them four annas. also offered them four annas more if they would kill the serpents; but of course they would not. 'man kill cobra, cobra kill man,' is one of their sayings. and so they left, but the man who captured the first snake hadn't gone twenty steps before he fell in convulsions and died. he had really been bitten, and that is his grave which you see there." madura, india. { } xxvi what the orient may teach us but, after all, what may the orient teach us? the inquiry is a pertinent one. perhaps it is all the more pertinent because, while acknowledging that the old east may learn much from the young west, we are ordinarily little inclined to look to the orient for instruction for ourselves. in fact, we are not inclined to look anywhere. that the germ and promise of all the new japan was in the oath taken by the young mikado in , "to seek out knowledge in all the world," we are ready to admit, and we are also ready to admit the truth of what dr. timothy richard said to me in peking last november. "this revolutionary progress in china has come about," he remarked, "because for twenty years china has been measuring herself with other countries. it is a comparative view of the world that is remaking the empire." in our own case unfortunately, certain natural conditions as well, perhaps, as the excessive "ego in our cosmos," conspire to keep us from this corrective "comparative view of the world." we are not hemmed about by rival world-powers, whose activities we are compelled to study, as is the case with almost every european nation. barring the philippines (and their uncertain value) we have no far-flung battle line to lure our vision beyond borders. and thus far our growing home markets have been so remunerative that not even commerce has induced as to look outward, with the incidental results of { } bringing us to realize our defects and remedy them, our strong points and emphasize them. for these reasons, i made my trip through the orient with an increased desire to bring home the lessons its long experience should teach us. and now that i come to summarize these lessons i find a single note running through all--from beginning to end. and this keynote may be given in a single word. conservation: the conservation not only of our natural resources, but of racial strength and power, of industrial productiveness, of commercial opportunities, and of finer things of the spirit. taking up first the matter of natural resources, i may mention that hardly anything that i saw on my entire trip burned itself more deeply into my memory than the heavy penalty that the celestial empire is now paying for the neglect of her forests in former years. in the country north of peking i found river valley after river valley once rich and productive but now become an abomination of desolation--covered with countless tons of sand and stone brought down from the treeless mountainsides. so long as these slopes were forest-clad, the decaying leaves and humus gave a sponge-like character to the soil upon them, and it gave out the water gradually to the streams below. now, however, the peaks are in most cases only enormous rock-piles, the erosion having laid waste the country roundabout; or else they are mixtures of rock and earth rent by gorges through which furious torrents rush down immediately after each rainfall, submerging once fruitful plains with rock and infertile gully-dirt. where the thrifty, pig-tailed chinese peasant once cultivated broad and level fields in such river valleys, he is now able to rescue only a few half-hearted patches by piling the rock in heaps and saving a few intervening arable remnants from the general soil-wreck. especially memorable was the ruin--if one may call it such--of a once deep river, its bed now almost filled with { } sand and rock, that i crossed on my little chinese donkey not far from the nankou pass and the great wall. even the splendid arches of a bridge, built to span its ancient flood, were almost submerged in sand. instead of the constant stream of water that once gladdened the lowlands, there is in each rainy season a mad torrent that leaves a ruinous deposit behind, and, later, long weeks when the river-bed is as dry as a desert. so it was when i saw it last fall; and the old stone bridge, almost sand-covered like an egyptian ruin, was at once a melancholy monument to the gladness and fertility of a vanished era, and an argument for forest-conservation that should carry conviction to all who see it. the next day as i rode amid the strange traffic of nankou pass i found this argument translated into even more directly human terms. for of the scores of awkward-moving camels and quaint-looking mongolian horses and donkeys that i saw homeward-bound after their southward trip, a great number were carrying little bags of coal--dearly bought fuel to be sparingly used through the long winter's cold in quantities just large enough to cook the meagre meals, or in extreme weather to keep the poor peasants from actually freezing. only in the rarest cases are the chinese able to use fuel for warming themselves; they can afford only enough for cooking purposes. yet in sight of the peasant's home, perhaps--in any case, not far away--are mountain peaks too steep for cultivation, but which with wise care of the tree-growth would have provided fuel for thousands and tens of thousands, and at a fraction of the price at which wood or coal must now be bought. japan, korea, and india--the whole orient in fact--bear witness to the importance of the forestry messages which gifford pinchot and theodore roosevelt have been drumming into our more or less uncaring ears for a decade past. when i reached yokohama i found it impossible to get into the northern part of the island of hondo because of the { } flood damage to the railroads, and the lives of several friends of mine had been endangered in the same disaster. the dams of bamboo-bound rocks that i found men building near nikko and miyanoshita by way of remedy may not amount to much; but there is much hope in the general programme for reforesting the desolated areas, which i found the japanese department of agriculture and commerce actively prosecuting. here is a good lesson for america. in korea, however, the japanese lumbermen, even in very recent years, have given little thought to the morrow and with such results as might be expected. the day i reached seoul, one of its older citizens, standing on the banks of the han just outside the ancient walls, remarked, "when i was young this was called the bottomless river, because of its great depth. now, as you can see, it is all changed. the bed is shallow, in some places nearly filled up, and it has been but a few weeks since great damage was done by overflows right here in seoul." yet another kind of conservation to which our people in occidental lands need to give more earnest heed is the conservation of the individual wealth of the people. the wastefulness of the average american is apparent enough from a comparison of conditions here with conditions in europe--when i came back from my first european trip i remarked that "europe would live on what america wastes"--but a comparison of conditions in america with those in the orient is even more to our discredit. in lafcadio hearn's books on japan we find a glorification of the japanese character that is unquestionably overdone on the whole, but in his contrast between the wasteful display of fashion's fevered followers in america and the ideals of simple living that distinguished old japan, there is a rebuke for us whose justice we cannot gainsay. take an old japanese sage like baron shibusawa, who, like count okuma, it seems might well have been one of plutarch's men, and you are not surprised to hear him mention the extravagance of america as the thing that impressed him more { } than anything else in traveling in our country. "to spend so much money in making a mere railroad station palatial as you have done in washington, for example, seems to me uneconomic," he declared. what most impressed him and other oriental critics with whom i talked, be it remembered, was the wastefulness of expenditures not for genuine comforts but for fashion and display--the vagaries of idle rich women who pay high prices for half-green strawberries in january but are hunting some other exotic diet when the berries get deliciously ripe in may, and who rave over an american beauty in december but have no eyes for the full-blown glory of the open-air roses in june. it is such unnatural display that most grates against the "moral duty of simplicity of life," as eastern sages have taught it. "when i was in the imperial university here in tokyo," a japanese newspaper man said to me, "my father gave me six yen a month, $ american money. i paid for room, light, and food $ . a month; for tuition, cents; for paper, books, etc., cents; and this left me $ for pocket money expenditures, including the occasional treat of eating potatoes with sugar!" in such spartan simplicity the victors of mukden, liao-yang and port arthur were bred. the great founder of the tokugawa dynasty, iyeyasu, whose tomb at nikko situated at the end of a twenty-five mile avenue of giant cryptomerias, is the mecca of all tourists, has expressed in two memorable sayings the japanese conception of the essential immorality of waste, of the regard that is due every product of human labor as being itself in some sense human or at least a throb with the blood of the toiler who has wrought it and moist with the sweat of his brow. when virtual dictator of japan, iyeyasu was seen smoothing out an old silk kakama. "i am doing this," he said, "not because of the worth of the garment in itself, but because of what it needed to produce it. it is the result of the toil of some poor woman, and that is why i value it. if we do not think while { } using these things, of the toil and effort required to produce them, then our want of consideration puts us on a level with the beasts." again, when opposing unnecessary purchases of costly royal garments, he declared. "when i think of the multitudes around me, and the generations to come after me, i feel it my duty to be very sparing, for their sake, of the goods in my possession." no wonder hearn declares of this "cosmic emotion of humanity" which we lack that "we shall certainly be obliged to acquire it at a later date simply to save ourselves from extermination." the importance of saving the wealth of nations from the wastes of war and the wastes of excessive military expenditures is another lesson that one brings home from a study of conditions abroad. while our american jingoes are using japan as a more or less effective bogy to work their purposes, peace advocates might perhaps even more legitimately hold it up as a "horrible example" to point their moral as to how war drains the national revenues and exhausts the national wealth. in the mikado's empire the average citizen to-day must pay per cent, of his total income in taxes, the great proportion of this enormous national expenditure growing out of past wars and preparations for future wars. no wonder venerable count okuma, once premier of the empire, said to me: "i look for international arbitration to come not as a matter of sentiment but as a matter of cold financial necessity. nations have labored for centuries to build up the civilization of to-day: it is unthinkable that its advantages must be largely sacrificed for the support of enormous non-productive armies and navies. that would be simply the suicide of civilization." for the lesson of all this i may quote the words of dr. timothy richard, one of the most distinguished englishmen in china, in the same conversation from which a fragment was quoted in the beginning of this article: { } "the world is going to be one before you die, sir," he said as we talked together just outside the walls of the forbidden city. "we are living in the days of anarchy. unite the ten leading nations; let all their armaments be united into one to enforce the decrees of the supreme court of the world. and since it will then be the refusal of recalcitrant nations to accept arbitration that will make necessary the maintenance of any very large armaments by these united nations, let them protect themselves by levying discriminating tariff duties against the countries that would perpetuate present conditions." all this i endorse. the necessity of preserving the national wealth from the wastes of war i regard as one of the most important lessons that we may get from the orient. and yet i would not have the united states risk entering upon that military unpreparedness which must prove a fool's paradise until other great nations are brought to accept the principle of arbitration. the proper programme is to increase by tenfold--yes, a hundredfold--our personal and national efforts for arbitration, at the same time remembering that so long as the community of nations recognizes the rule of force we cannot secede and set up a reign of peace for ourselves. if it takes two to make a quarrel, it also takes two to keep a peace. we must be in terrible earnest about bringing in a new era, and yet we cannot commit the folly of trying to play the peace game by ourselves. it is not solitaire. even more important, whether we consider it from the standpoint of the general welfare or as a matter of national defence, is the conservation of our physical stamina and racial strength. whether the wars of the future are commercial or military it doesn't matter. the prizes will go to the people who are strong of body and clear of mind. "the first requisite," said herbert spencer, "is a good animal," and not even the success of a peace court will ever prevent the good animal--the power of physical vigor and hardness with its { } concomitant qualities of courage, discipline, and daring--from becoming a deciding factor in the struggle between nations and between races. it has been so from the dawn of history and it will ever be so. and just here we may question whether the growth of wealth and luxury in the united states is not tending here, as it has tended in all other nations, toward physical softness and deterioration. it may be argued on the contrary that while a few occidental children are luxury-weakened, a great body of oriental children are drudgery-weakened. but is there not much more reason to fear that in our case there is really decay at both ends of our social system--with the pampered rich children who haven't work enough, and with the hard-driven poor who have too much? the overworking of the very young is certainly a serious evil in america as well as in asia; and even in this matter the eastern folk are perhaps doing as well, according to their lights, as we are. in china manufacturing is not yet extensive enough for the problem to be serious; but in both japan and india i found the government councils thoroughly aroused to the importance of conserving child-life, and grappling with different measures for the protection of both child and women workers. my recollection is that the four thousand brown-bodied hindu boys (there were no girls) that i found at work in a madras cotton mill already have better legal protection than is afforded the child-workers in some of our american states. for a long time, too, we have been accustomed to think of the oriental as the victim of enervating habits and more or less vicious forms of self-indulgence. but while this may have been true in the past, the tide is now definitely turning. fifty years of agitation in the united states have probably accomplished less to minimize intemperance among us than ten years of anti-opium agitation has accomplished in ridding china of her particular form of intemperance. i went to china too late to see the once famous opium dens of canton and peking; { } too late to see the gorgeous poppy-fields that once lined the banks of the yangtze; and on the billboards in newchang i found such notices as the following concerning morphine, cocaine and similar drugs: "in accordance with instructions received through the inspector-general from the shuiwu ch'u the public is hereby notified that henceforth the importation into china of cocaine ... or instruments for its use, except by foreign medical practitioners and foreign druggists for medical purposes, is hereby prohibited." and these foreign doctors handling cocaine are heavily bonded. the chinaman of to-day is giving up opium, is little given to other forms of intemperance, is afire with new enthusiasm for athletics and for military training; and he is already so physically adaptable that i found him as hardy and untiringly energetic beneath an equatorial sun in singapore as in the rigorous climate of north-central manchuria. it made me wonder if the "meek who are to inherit the earth" in the end may not prove to be the chinese! perhaps if the united states were a less powerful nation, or if we realized more fully the keenness of the coming world-struggle for industrial supremacy, we might find our patriotism a stronger force in warding off some of the evils that now threaten us. in his address to the german navy, emperor william recently urged the importance of temperance because of the empire's need of strong, clear-headed men, unweakened by dissipation; and there can be little doubt that some such patriotic motive has had not a little to do with the anti-opium movement in awakening china. certainly the japanese with their almost fanatical love of country are easily influenced by such appeals, and keep such reasons in mind in the training of their young. "for the sake of the emperor you must not drink the water from these condemned wells; for the sake of the emperor you must observe these sanitary precautions--lest you start an epidemic and so weaken the { } emperor's fighting forces!" so said the japanese sanitary officers in the war with russia; and when the struggle ended surgeon-general takaki was able to boast in his official report: "in the spanish-american war fourteen men died from disease to one from bullets. we have established a record of four deaths from disease to one from bullets." in studying these eastern peoples one is also led inevitably to such reflections as mr. roosevelt gave utterance to in his romanes lectures a few months ago. not only are the orientals schooled from their youth up to endure hardness like good soldiers, but their natural increase contrasts strikingly with the steadily decreasing birth-rate of our french and english stocks. in japan i soon came to remark that it looked almost as unnatural to see a woman between twenty and forty without a baby on her back as it would to see a camel without a hump; and kipling's saying about the japanese "four-foot child who walks with a three-foot child who is holding the hand of a two-foot child who carries on her back a one-foot child" came promptly to mind. in view of these things it is not surprising to learn that in the last fifty years japan has increased in population, through the birth rate alone, "as fast as the united states has gained from the birth rate plus her enormous immigration." the racial fertility of the chinese is also well known; a chinaman without sons to worship his spirit when he dies is not only temporarily discredited but eternally doomed. as for india, that every hindu girl at fourteen must be either a wife or a widow is a common saying, and readers of "kim" and "the naulahka" will recall the ancient and persistent belief that the wife who is not also a mother of sons is a woman of ill-omen. mr. putman weale abundantly justifies the title of his new book, "the conflict of color"--the seeming foreordination of some readjustment of racial relations if present tendencies continue--when he asserts that while the white races double { } in eighty years, the yellow or brown double in sixty, and the black in forty. this last consideration, that of a possible readjustment of racial relations, leads us very naturally to inquire, what are the qualities that have given the white race the leadership thus far? and what may we do for the conservation of these qualities? there are, of course, certain basic and fundamental reasons for white leadership that i need not elaborate. for one thing, there is the tonic air of democratic ideals in which long generations of white men have lived and developed as contrasted with the stifling absolutism of the east. there is also our emphasis upon the worth of the individual, our conception of the sacredness of personality, as compared with the oriental lack of concern for the individual in its supreme regard for the family and the state. and even more important perhaps is the fact that the white man has had a religion that has taught--even if somewhat confusedly at times--that "man is man and master of his fate," that he is not a plaything of destiny, but a responsible son of god with enormous possibilities for good or evil, whereas the oriental has been the victim of benumbing fatalism that has made him indifferent in industry and achievement, though it has given him a greater recklessness in war. it would also be difficult to exaggerate the influence which our radically different estimate of woman has had upon western civilization. and here we have to consider not only woman's own direct contributions to progress, but also the indirect influence of our regard for woman, not as an inferior and a plaything, but as a comrade and helpmeet. how frequently the ideal of english chivalry-- "to love one maiden only, cleave to her, to worship her by years of noble deeds"-- has been the inspiration of the best that men of our race have wrought, it needs only a glance at our literature to { } suggest. these things are indeed basic and fundamental and the question of their conservation, the preservation of the ideals of the occident as compared with those of the orient, is supremely important not only to us as a nation but to all our human race. but when one comes to consider only the sheer economic causes of the difference between oriental poverty and occidental plenty, it seems to me impossible to escape the conviction, already expressed and elaborated that it is mainly a matter of tools and knowledge, education and machinery. in the orient every man is producing as little as possible; in the occident he is producing as much as possible. that is the case in a nutshell. with better knowledge and better tools, half the people now engaged in food-production in asia could produce all the food that the entire rural population now produces, and the other half could be released for manufacturing--thereby doubling the earning power and the spending power of the whole population. it is universal education and modern machinery, far more than virgin resources, that have made america rich and powerful. let her make haste then to learn this final lesson that the orient teaches--the necessity of conserving in the fullest degree all the powers that have given us industrial supremacy: the power of the trained brain and the cunning hand reinforced by all the magic strength that we may get from our briarean "slave of the lamp," modern machinery. we must thoroughly educate all our people. was it not an oriental prophet who wrote: "my people are destroyed for lack of knowledge?" in china only per cent, of the people can now read and write, and the highest hope of the government is that per cent, may be literate by . in india only per cent, can read and write. in japan for centuries past, the education of the common man has also been neglected, but she is now compelling every child to go into the schools, { } and her industrial system will doubtless be revolutionized at a result. in no case must we forget that education, if it is to be effective, must train for efficiency, must link itself with life and work, must be practical. i had thought of the movement for relating the school to industry as being confined to america and europe. but when i landed in japan i found the educational authorities there as keenly alive to the importance of the movement as ours in america; in china i found that the old classical system of education has been utterly abandoned within a decade; in the philippines it was the boast of the commissioner of education that the elementary schools in the islands give better training for agriculture and industry than those in the united states; and in india the school authorities are earnestly at work upon the same problem. knowledge and tools must go hand in hand. if this has been important heretofore it is doubly important now that we must face in an ever-increasing degree the rivalry of awakening peoples who are strong with the strength that comes from struggle with poverty and hardship, and who have set themselves to master and apply all our secrets in the coming world-struggle for industrial supremacy and racial readjustment. the end { } { } index american commerce abroad, - , - american goods sold lower abroad, ancestor worship, japan, - area and population, manchuria, ; philippines, ; india, artistic japanese, , - beans in manchuria, - beasts, india's wild, - benares, boxer troubles, - camels in china, - canton, caste system, - ; effect on labor, ; robber caste, ; defended, child marriage in india, - children, hindu, - china, premonitions of revolution, , - . china sea, chinese hardiness, - chinese immigration, - christian vs. hindu philosophy, , - christian vs. oriental philosophy, cocoanut planting, confucianism, conservation of forests, - cooperative credit societies, japan, ; india, crops-- rice, - ; cotton, , , , , - ; india's crops, currency reform in china, - diseases and sanitation, - , , , - dress, japanese, - ; indian, education, ; japanese, ; chinese, , - ; filipino, - ; indian, elephants, stories about, - extravagance, american, - factory child labor, ; japan, family government, , famines in india, - farm animals, japan, ; manchuria, ; philippines, farming-- japan, - ; manchurian, ; chinese, , - , - , ; philippine, - , ; indian, - , - ; tools, , , ; houses, , , , fatalism, - filipino character, filipino houses, foot binding. chinese, - funeral and burial customs, , , , - , - , ganges, german commercial activity, government, japanese, ; korea's corrupt, - ; chinese, great wall, - himalayas, the, - hindu gods and goddesses, hindu village described, { } india, english rule in, - india's diversity of races, individual, repression of, - industrial efficiency, , , japan control in korea, - ; manchuria, - japanese city described, - japanese-russian war, - ; - korea, - language-- japanese spoken, ; written, - ; chinese, - lawrence, sir henry, love of nature, japanese, machinery, asia's refusal to use, manchuria's fertility, - manila, manufacturing, japan, , - marriage customs, japanese, - , ; korean, ; chinese, ; indian, - missionary work, , ; japan, ; korea, ; philippines, moral standards, , music, odd customs, japan, - , ; korean, okuma, count, interviewed, - ; open door in manchuria, the, - opium, china's crusade against, - ; parcels post, peking, glimpses of, - perry's expedition, persecution of christians, - , - philippine government, - philippine resources, - philippine scenery, - "pidgin english," - politeness, japanese, , postal savings banks, poverty of oriental people, , , practical education, , punishments, chinese, - racial fertility, , , - railways, manchurian, - ; chinese, - rangoon, - religions, shintoism, ; buddhism, - , , - ; confucianism, - ; hinduism, - , roads, ; in philippines, rubber speculation, school term, japan, - size of farms, japan, ; china, slavery in china, social gradations, japanese, "squeeze" system in china, , story, a chinese, - superstitions, , - taj mahal described, - tariff-- japanese, , - ; chinese, taxes in japan, torrens land titles, , - tropical vegetation, wages-- japan, , , , , ; china, , , , ; burma, ; india, , , - war spirit, ; japan, , , ; china, - wedding, a hindu, welfare work in japanese factories - woman's degraded position, ; japan, , - ; india, - women laborers, , , , - wu ting fang interviewed, yang-bans, the, yangtze river, - _by the same author_ a modern symposium. the meaning of good. justice & liberty, a political dialogue. _problems of the day series_ religion & immortality. letters from john chinaman. religion: a forecast. appearances appearances being notes of travel by g. lowes dickinson author of "a modern symposium," "justice and liberty," etc. [illustration] mcmxiv london & toronto j. m. dent & sons limited new york: doubleday, page & co. all rights reserved preface the articles included in this book have already appeared, those from the east in the _manchester guardian_, those from america in the _english review_. in reprinting them, i have chosen a title which may serve also as an apology. what i offer is not reality; but appearances to me. from such appearances perhaps, in time, reality may be constructed. i claim only to make my contribution. i do so because the new contact between east and west is perhaps the most important fact of our age; and the problems of action and thought which it creates can only be solved as each civilisation tries to understand the others, and, by so doing, better to understand itself. these articles represent at any rate a good will to understand; and they may, i hope, for that reason throw one gleam of light on the darkness. for the opportunity of travelling in the east i am indebted to the munificence of mr. albert kahn of paris, who has founded what are known in this country as the albert kahn travelling fellowships.[ ] the existence of this endowment is perhaps not as widely known as it should be. and if this volume should be the occasion of leading others to take advantage of the founder's generosity it will not have been written in vain. i have hesitated long before deciding to republish the letters on america. they were written in , before the election of president wilson, and all that led up to and is implied in that event. it was not, however, the fact that, so far, they are out of date, that caused me to hesitate. for they deal only incidentally with current politics, and whatever value they may have is as a commentary on phases of american civilisation which are of more than transitory significance. much has happened in the united states during the last few years which is of great interest and importance. the conflict between democracy and plutocracy has become more conscious and more acute; there have been important developments in the labour movement; and capital has been so "harassed" by legislation that it may, for the moment, seem odd to capitalists to find america called "the paradise of plutocracy." no doubt the american public has awakened to its situation since . but such awakenings take a long time to transform the character of a civilisation and all that has occurred serves only to confirm the contention in the text that in the new world the same situation is arising that confronts the old one. what made me hesitate was something more important than the date at which the letters were written. there is in them a note of exasperation which i would have wished to remove if i could. but i could not, without a complete rewriting, by which, even if it were possible to me, more would have been lost than gained. it is this note of exasperation which has induced me hitherto to keep the letters back, in spite of requests to the contrary from american friends and publishers. but the opportunity of adding them as a pendant to letters from the east, where they fall naturally into their place as a complement and a contrast, has finally overcome my scruples; the more so, as much that is said of america is as typical of all the west, as it is foreign to all the east. that this western civilisation, against which i have so much to say, is nevertheless the civilisation in which i would choose to live, in which i believe, and about which all my hopes centre, i have endeavoured to make clear in the concluding essay. and my readers, i hope, if any of them persevere to the end, will feel that they have been listening, after all, to the voice of a friend, even if the friend be of that disagreeable kind called "candid." footnotes: [footnote : these fellowships, each of the value of £ , were established to enable the persons appointed to them to travel round the world. the trust is administered at the university of london, and full information regarding it can be obtained from the principal, sir henry miers, f.r.s., who is honorary secretary to the trustees.] contents part i india page i. in the red sea. ii. ajanta. iii. ulster in india iv. anglo-india. v. a mystery play. vi. an indian saint. vii. a village in bengal viii. sri ramakrishna. ix. the monstrous regimen of women x. the buddha at burupudur xi. a malay theatre part ii china i. first impressions of china ii. nanking iii. in the yangtse gorges iv. pekin v. the englishman abroad vi. china in transition vii. a sacred mountain part iii japan i. first impressions of japan ii. a "no" dance iii. nikko iv. divine right in japan v. fuji vi. japan and america vii. home part iv america i. the "divine average" ii. a continent of pioneers iii. niagara iv. "the modern pulpit" v. in the rockies vi. in the adirondacks vii. the religion of business viii. red-bloods and "mollycoddles" ix. advertisement x. culture xi. antÆus concluding essay part i india i in the red sea "but why do you do it?" said the frenchman. from the saloon above came a sound of singing, and i recognised a well-known hymn. the sun was blazing on a foam-flecked sea; a range of islands lifted red rocks into the glare; the wind blew fresh; and, from above, "nothing in my hand i bring, simply to thy cross i cling." male voices were singing; voices whose owners, beyond a doubt, had no idea of clinging to anything. female voices, too, of clingers, perhaps, but hardly to a cross. "why do you do it?"--i began to explain. "for the same reason that we play deck-quoits and shuffle-board; for the same reason that we dress for dinner. it's the system." "the system?" "yes. what i call anglicanism. it's a form of idealism. it consists in doing the proper thing." "but why should the proper thing be done?" "that question ought not to be asked. anglicanism is an idealistic creed. it is anti-utilitarian and anti-rational. it does not ask questions; it has faith. the proper thing is the proper thing, and because it is the proper thing it is done." "at least," he said, "you do not pretend that this is religion?" "no. it has nothing to do with religion. but neither is it, as you too simply suppose, hypocrisy. hypocrisy implies that you know what religion is, and counterfeit it. but these people do not know, and they are not counterfeiting. when they go to church they are not thinking of religion. they are thinking of the social system. the officers and civilians singing up there first learned to sing in the village church. they walked to the church from the great house; the great house stood in its park; the park was enclosed by the estate; and the estate was surrounded by other estates. the service in the village church stood for all that. and the service in the saloon stands for it still. at bottom, what that hymn means is not that these men are christians, but that they are carrying england to india, to burma, to china." "it is a funny thing," the frenchman mused, "to carry to million hindus and mahometans, and million confucians, buddhists, and devil-worshippers. what do they do with it when they get there?" "they plant it down in little oases all over the country, and live in it. it is the shell that protects them in those oceans of impropriety. and from that shell they govern the world." "but how can they govern what they can't even see?" "they govern all the better. if once they could see, they would be lost. doubt would enter in. and it is the virtue of the englishman that he never doubts. that is what the system does for him." at this moment a voice was borne down the breeze. it was that of my travelling companion, and it appeared, as he approached, that he was discoursing to the captain on the merits of dostoievsky's novels. he is no respecter of persons; he imposes his own conversation; and the captain, though obviously puzzled, was polite. "russians may be like that," he was remarking as he passed, "but englishmen aren't." "no," said my friend, "but don't you wish they were?" "i do _not_," said the captain with conviction. i looked at the frenchman. "there," i said, "behold the system." "but your friend?" "ah, but he, like myself, is a pariah. have you not observed? they are quite polite. they have even a kind of respect--such as our public school boys have--for anyone who is queer, if only he is queer enough. but we don't "belong," and they know it. we are outside the system. at bottom we are dangerous, like foreigners. and they don't quite approve of our being let loose in india." "besides, you talk to the indians." "yes, we talk to the indians." "and that is contrary to the system?" "yes, on board the boat; it's all very well while you're still in england." "a strange system--to perpetuate between rulers and ruled an impassable gulf!" "yes. but, as mr. podsnap remarked, 'so it is.'" we had penetrated to the bows of the ship and hung looking over. suddenly, just under the surf, there was an emerald gleam; another; then a leap and a dive; a leap and a dive again. a pair of porpoises were playing round the bows with the ease, the spontaneity, the beauty of perfect and happy life. as we watched them the same mood grew in us till it forced expression. and "oh," i said, "the ship's a prison!" "no," said the frenchman, "it's the system." ii ajanta a dusty road running through an avenue across the great plateau of the deccan; scanty crops of maize and cotton; here and there low hills, their reddish soil sparsely clothed with trees; to the north, a receding line of mountains; elsewhere infinite space and blazing light. our "tonga," its pair of wheels and its white awning rolling and jolting behind two good horses, passes long lines of bullock-carts. indians, walking beside them with their inimitable gait, make exquisite gestures of abjection to the clumsy white sahibs huddled uncomfortably on the back seat. their robes of vivid colour, always harmoniously blent, leave bare the slender brown legs and often the breast and back. children stark naked ride on their mothers' hips or their fathers' shoulder. now and again the oxen are unyoked at a dribble of water, and a party rests and eats in the shade. otherwise it is one long march with bare feet over the burning soil. we are approaching a market. the mud walls of a village appear. and outside, by a stream shrunk now into muddy pools, shimmers and wimmers a many-coloured crowd, buzzing among their waggons and awnings and improvised stalls. we ford the shallow stream, where women are washing clothes, cleaning their teeth, and drinking from the same water, and pass among the bags of corn, the sugar-cane, and sweetmeats, saluted gravely but unsolicited. then on again for hours, the road now solitary, till as day closes we reach fardapur. a cluster of mud-walled compounds and beehive huts lies about a fortified enclosure, where the children sprawl and scream, and a brahmin intones to silent auditors. outside they are drawing water from the puddles of the stream. and gradually over the low hills and the stretches of yellow grass the after-glow spreads a transfiguring light. out of a rosy flush the evening star begins to shine; the crickets cry; a fresh breeze blows; and another pitiless day drops into oblivion. next day, at dawn, we walk the four miles to the famous caves, guided by a boy who wears the nizam's livery, and explains to us, in a language we do not know, but with perfect lucidity, that it is to him, and no one else, that backsheesh is due. he sings snatches of music as old and strange as the hills; picks us balls of cotton, and prickly pear; and once stops to point to the fresh tracks of a panther. we are in the winding gorge of a watercourse; and presently, at a turn, in a semicircle facing south, we see in the cliff the long line of caves. as we enter the first an intolerable odour meets us, and a flight of bats explains the cause. gradually our eyes accustom themselves to the light, and we become conscious of a square hall, the flat roof resting on squat pillars elaborately carved, fragments of painting on the walls and ceiling, narrow slits opening into dark cells, and opposite the entrance, set back in a shrine, a colossal buddha, the light falling full on the solemn face, the upturned feet, the expository hands. this is a monastery, and most of the caves are on the same plan; but one or two are long halls, presumably for worship, with barrel-vaulted roofs, and at the end a great solid globe on a pedestal. of the art of these caves i will not speak. what little can be seen of the painting--and only ill-lighted fragments remain--is full of tenderness, refinement, and grace; no touch of drama; no hint of passion. the sculpture, stripped of its stucco surface, is rude but often impressive. but what impresses most is not the art but the religion of the place. in this terrible country, where the great forces of nature, drought and famine and pestilence, the intolerable sun, the intolerable rain, and the exuberance of life and death, have made of mankind a mere passive horde cowering before inscrutable powers--here, more than anywhere, men were bound under a yoke of observance and ritual to the gods they had fashioned and the priests who interpreted their will. then came the deliverer to set them free not _for_ but _from_ life, teaching them how to escape from that worst of all evils, rebirth again and again into a world of infinite suffering, unguided by any reason to any good end. "there is no god," said this strange master, "there is no soul; but there is life after death, life here in this hell, unless you will learn to deliver yourselves by annihilating desire." they listened; they built monasteries; they meditated; and now and again, here, perhaps, in these caves, one or other attained enlightenment. but the cloud of hinduism, lifted for a moment, rolled back heavier than ever. the older gods were seated too firmly on their thrones. shiva--creator, preserver, destroyer--expelled the buddha. and that passive figure, sublime in its power of mind, sits for ever alone in the land of his birth, exiled from light, in a cloud of clinging bats. but outside proceeds the great pageant of day and night, and the patient, beautiful people labour without hope, while universal nature, symbolised by shiva's foot, presses heavily on their heads and forbids them the stature of man. only the white man here, bustling, ungainly, aggressive, retains his freedom and acts rather than suffers. one understands at last the full meaning of the word "environment." because of this sun, because of this soil, because of their vast numbers, these people are passive, religious, fatalistic. because of our cold and rain in the north, our fresh springs and summers, we are men of action, of science, of no reflection. the seed is the same, but according to the soil it brings forth differently. here the patience, the beauty, the abjection before the devilish-divine; there the defiance, the cult of the proud self. and these things have met. to what result? iii ulster in india "are you a home ruler?" "yes. are you?" instantly a torrent of protest. he was a mahometan, eminent in law and politics; clever, fluent, forensic, with a passion for hearing himself talk, and addressing one always as if one were a public meeting. he approached his face close to mine, gradually backing me into the wall. and i realised the full meaning of carlyle's dictum "to be a mere passive bucket to be pumped into can be agreeable to no human being." it was not, naturally, the irish question for its own sake that interested him. but he took it as a type of the indian question. here, too, he maintained, there is an ulster, the mahometan community. here, too, there are nationalists, the hindus. here, too, a "loyal" minority, protected by a beneficent and impartial imperial government. here, too, a majority of "rebels" bent on throwing off that government in order that they may oppress the minority. here, too, an ideal of independence hypocritically masked under the phrase "self-government." "it is a law of political science that where there are two minorities they should stand together against the majority. the hindus want to get rid of you, as they want to get rid of us. and for that reason alone, if there were not a thousand others"--there were, he hinted, but, rhetorically, he "passed them over in silence"--"for that reason alone i am loyal to the british raj." it had never occurred to me to doubt it. but i questioned, when i got a moment's breathing space, whether really the hindu community deliberately nourished this dark conspiracy. he had no doubt, so far as the leaders were concerned; and he mistrusted the "moderates" more than the extremists, because they were cleverer. he "multiplied examples"--it was his phrase. the movement for primary education, for example. it had nothing to do with education. it was a plot to teach the masses hindi, in order that they might be swept into the anti-british, anti-mahometan current. as to minor matters, no hindu had ever voted for a mahometan, no hindu barrister ever sent a client to a mahometan colleague. whereas in all these matters, one was led to infer, mahometans were conciliation and tolerance itself. i knew that the speaker himself had secured the election of mahometans to all the seats in the council. but i refrained from referring to the matter. then there was caste. a hindu will not eat with a mahometan, and this was taken as a personal insult. i suggested that the english were equally boycotted; but that we regarded the boycott as a religious obligation, not as a social stigma. but, like the irish ulstermen, he was not there to listen to argument. he rolled on like a river. none of us could escape. he detected the first signs of straying, and beckoned us back to the flock. "mr. audubon, this is important." "mr. coryat, you must listen to this." coryat, at last, grew restive, and remarked rather tartly that no doubt there was friction between the two communities, but that the worst way to deal with it was by recrimination. he agreed; with tears in his eyes he agreed. there was nothing he had not done, no advance he had not made, to endeavour to bridge the gulf. all in vain! never were such obstinate fellows as these hindus. and he proceeded once more to "multiply examples." as we said "good-bye" in the small hours of the morning he pressed into our hands copies of his speeches and addresses. and we left him perorating on the steps of the hotel. a painfully acquired mistrust of generalisation prevents me from saying that this is _the_ mahometan point of view. indeed, i have reason to know that it is not. but it is a mahometan point of view in one province. and it was endorsed, more soberly, by less rhetorical members of the community. some twenty-five years ago, they say, mahometans woke to the fact that they were dropping behind in the race for influence and power. they started a campaign of education and organisation. at every point they found themselves thwarted; and always, behind the obstacle, lurked a hindu. lord morley's reform of the councils, intended to unite all sections, had had the opposite effect. nothing but the separate electorates had saved mahometans from political extinction. and precisely because they desired that extinction hindus desired mixed electorates. the elections to the councils have exasperated the antagonism between the two communities. and an enemy might accuse the government of being actuated, in that reform, by the machiavellian maxim "divide et impera." what the hindus have to say to all this i have not had an opportunity of learning. but they too, i conceive, can "multiply examples" for their side. to a philosophic observer two reflections suggest themselves. one, that representative government can only work when there is real give and take between the contending parties. the other, that to most men, and most nations, religion means nothing more than antagonism to some other religion. witness ulster in ireland; and witness, equally, ulster in india. iv anglo-india from the gallery of the high hall we look down on the assembled society of the cantonment. the scene is commonplace enough; twaddle and tea, after tennis; "frivolling"--it is their word; women too empty-headed and men too tired to do anything else. this mill-round of work and exercise is maintained like a religion. the gymkhana represents the "compulsory games" of a public school. it is part of the "white man's burden." he plays, as he works, with a sense of responsibility. he is bored, but boredom is a duty, and there's nothing else to do. the scene is commonplace. yes! but this afternoon a band is playing. the music suits the occasion. it is soft, melodious, sentimental. it provokes a vague sensibility, and makes no appeal to the imagination. at least it should not, from its quality. but the power of music is incalculable. it has an essence independent of its forms. and by virtue of that essence its poorest manifestations can sink a shaft into the springs of life. so as i listen languidly the scene before me detaches itself from actuality and floats away on the stream of art. it becomes a symbol; and around and beyond it, in some ideal space, other symbols arise and begin to move. i see the east as an infinite procession. huge bactrian camels balance their bobbing heads as they pad deliberately over the burning dust. laden asses, cattle, and sheep and goats move on in troops. black-bearded men, men with beard and hair dyed red, women pregnant or carrying babies on their hips, youths like the indian bacchus with long curling hair, children of all ages, old men magnificent and fierce, all the generations of asia pass and pass on, seen like a frieze against a rock background, blazing with colour, rhythmical and fluent, marching menacingly down out of infinite space on to this little oasis of englishmen. then, suddenly, they are an ocean; and the anglo-indian world floats upon it like an atlantic liner. it has its gymnasium, its swimming-bath, its card-rooms, its concert-room. it has its first and second class and steerage, well marked off. it dresses for dinner every night; it has an anglican service on sunday; it flirts mildly; it is bored; but above all it is safe. it has water-tight compartments. it is "unsinkable." the band is playing; and when the crash comes it will not stop. no; it will play this music, this, which is in my ears. is it gounod's "faust" or an anglican hymn? no matter! it is the same thing, sentimental, and not imaginative. and sentimentally, not imaginatively, the englishman will die. he will not face the event, but he will stand up to it. he will realise nothing, but he will shrink from nothing. of all the stories about the loss of the _titanic_ the best and most characteristic is that of the group of men who sat conversing in the second-class smoking-room, till one of them said, "now she's going down. let's go and sit in the first-class saloon." and they did. how touching! how sublime! how english! the _titanic_ sinks. with a roar the machinery crashes from stem to bow. dust on the water, cries on the water, then vacuity and silence. the east has swept over this colony of the west. and still its generations pass on, rhythmically swinging; slaves of nature, not, as in the west, rebels against her; cyclical as her seasons and her stars; infinite as her storms of dust; identical as the leaves of her trees; purposeless as her cyclones and her earthquakes. the music stops and i rub my eyes. yes, it is only the club, only tea and twaddle! or am i wrong? there is more in these men and women than appears. they stand for the west, for the energy of the world, for all, in this vast nature, that is determinate and purposive, not passively repetitionary. and if they do not know it, if they never hear the strain that transposes them and their work into a tragic dream, if tennis is tennis to them, and a valse a valse, and an indian a native, none the less they are what a poet would see them to be, an oasis in the desert, a liner on the ocean, ministers of the life within life that is the hope, the inspiration, and the meaning of the world. in my heart of hearts i apologise as i prolong the banalities of parting, and almost vow never again to abuse gounod's music. v a mystery play a few lamps set on the floor lit up the white roof. on either side the great hall was open to the night; and now and again a bird flew across, or a silent figure flitted from dark to dark. on a low platform sat the dancers, gorgeously robed. all were boys. the leader, a peacock-fan flashing in his head-dress, personated krishna. beside him sat rhada, his wife. the rest were the milkmaids of the legend. they sat like statues, and none of them moved at our entry. but the musicians, who were seated on the ground, rose and salaamed, and instantly began to play. there were five instruments--a miniature harmonium (terrible innovation), two viols, of flat, unresonant tone, a pair of cymbals, and a small drum. the ear, at first, detected little but discordant chaos, but by degrees a form became apparent--short phrases, of strong rhythm, in a different scale from ours, repeated again and again, and strung on a thread of loose improvisation. every now and again the musicians burst into song. their voices were harsh and nasal, but their art was complicated and subtle. clearly, this was not barbarous music, it was only strange, and its interest increased, as the ear became accustomed to it. suddenly, as though they could resist no longer, the dancers, who had not moved, leapt from the platform and began their dance. it was symbolical; krishna was its centre, and the rest were wooing him. desire and its frustration and fulfilment were the theme. yet it was not sensual, or not merely so. the hindus interpret in a religious spirit this legendary sport of krishna with the milkmaids. it symbolises the soul's wooing of god. and so these boys interpreted it. their passion, though it included the flesh, was not of the flesh. the mood was rapturous, but not abandoned; ecstatic, but not orgiastic. there were moments of a hushed suspense when hardly a muscle moved; only the arms undulated and the feet and hands vibrated. then a break into swift whirling, on the toes or on the knees, into leaping and stamping, swift flight and pursuit. a pause again; a slow march; a rush with twinkling feet; and always, on those young faces, even in the moment of most excitement, a look of solemn rapture, as though they were carried out of themselves into the divine. i have seen dancing more accomplished, more elaborate, more astonishing than this. but never any that seemed to me to fulfil so well the finest purposes of the art. the russian ballet, in the retrospect, seems trivial by comparison. it was secular; but this was religious. for the first time i seemed to catch a glimpse of what the tragic dance of the greeks might have been like. the rhythms were not unlike those of greek choruses, the motions corresponded strictly to the rhythms, and all was attuned to a high religious mood. in such dancing the flesh becomes spirit, the body a transparent emblem of the soul. after that the play, i confess, was a drop into bathos. we descended to speech, even to tedious burlesque. but the analogy was all the closer to mediæval mysteries. in ages of faith religion is not only sublime; it is intimate, humorous, domestic; it sits at the hearth and plays in the nursery. so it is in india where the age of faith has never ceased. what was represented that night was an episode in the story of krishna. the characters were the infant god, his mother, jasodha, and an ancient brahmin who has come from her own country to congratulate her on the birth of a child. he is a comic character--the sagging belly and the painted face of the pantomime. he answers jasodha's inquiries after friends and relations at home. she offers him food. he professes to have no appetite, but, on being pressed, demands portentous measures of rice and flour. while she collects the material for his meal, he goes to bathe in the jumna; and the whole ritual of his ablutions is elaborately travestied, even a crocodile being introduced in the person of one of the musicians, who rudely pulls him by the leg as he is rolling in imaginary water. his bathing finished, he retires and cooks his food. when it is ready he falls into prayer. but during his abstraction the infant krishna crawls up and begins devouring the food. returning to himself, the brahmin, in a rage, runs off into the darkness of the hall. jasodha pursues him and brings him back. and he begins once more to cook his food. this episode was repeated three times in all its detail, and i confess i found it insufferably tedious. the third time jasodha scolds the child and asks him why he does it. he replies--and here comes the pretty point of the play--that the brahmin, in praying to god and offering him the food, unwittingly is praying to him and offering to him, and in eating the food he has but accepted the offering. the mother does not understand, but the brahmin does, and prostrates himself before his lord. this is crude enough art, but at any rate it is genuine. like all primitive art, it is a representation of what is traditionally believed and popularly felt. the story is familiar to the audience and intimate to their lives. it represents details which they witness every day, and at the same time it has religious significance. out of it might grow a great drama, as once in ancient greece. and perhaps from no other origin can such a drama arise. vi an indian saint it was at benares that we met him. he led us through the maze of the bazaars, his purple robe guiding us like a star, and brought us out by the mosque of aurungzebe. thence a long flight of stairs plunged sheer to the ganges, shining below in the afternoon sun. we descended; but, turning aside before we reached the shore, came to a tiny house perched on a terrace above the ghat. we took off our shoes in the anteroom and passed through a second chamber, with its riverside open to the air, and reached a tiny apartment, where he motioned us to a divan. we squatted and looked round. some empty bottles were the only furniture. but on the wall hung the picture we had come to see. it was a symbolic tree, and perhaps as much like a tree as what it symbolised was like the universe. embedded in its trunk and branches were coloured circles and signs, and from them grew leaves and flowers of various hues. below was a garden lit by a rising sun, and a black river where birds and beasts pursued and devoured one another. at our request he took a pointer and began to explain. i am not sure that i well understood or well remember, but something of this kind was the gist of it. in the beginning was parabrahma, existing in himself, a white circle at the root of the tree. whence sprang, following the line of the trunk, the egg of the universe, pregnant with all potentialities. thence came the energy of brahma; and of this there were three aspects, the good, the evil, and the neuter, symbolised by three triangles in a circle. thence the trunk continued, but also thence emerged a branch to the right and one to the left. the branch to the right was illusion and ended in god; the branch to the left was ignorance and ended in the soul. thus the soul contemplates illusion under the form of her gods. up the line of the trunk came next the energy of nature; then pride; then egotism and individuality; whence branched to one side mind, to the other the senses and the passions. then followed the elements, fire, air, water, and earth; then the vegetable creation; then corn; and then, at the summit of the tree, the primitive man and woman, type of humanity. the garden below was eden, until the sun rose; but with light came discord and conflict, symbolised by the river and the beasts. evil and conflict belong to the nature of the created world; and the purpose of religion is by contemplation to enable the soul to break its bodies, and the whole creation to return again to parabrahma, whence it sprung. why did it spring? he did not know. for good or for evil? he could not say. what he knew he knew, and what he did not know he did not. "some say there is no god and no soul." he smiled. "let them!" his certainty was complete. "can the souls of men be reincarnated as animals?" he shrugged his shoulders. "who can say?" i tried to put in a plea for the life of action, but he was adamant; contemplation and contemplation alone can deliver us. "our good men," i said, "desire to make the world better, rather than to save their own souls." "our sages," he replied, "are sorry for the world, but they know they cannot help it." his religion, i urged, denied all sense to the process of history. "there may be process in matter," he replied, "but there is none in god." i protested that i loved individual souls, and did not want them absorbed in parabrahma. he laughed his good cheery laugh, out of his black beard, but it was clear that he held me to be a child, imprisoned in the ego. i felt like that, and i hugged my ego; so presently he ministered to it with sweetmeats. he even ate with us, and smoked a cigarette. he was the most human of men; so human that i thought his religion could not be as inhuman as it sounded. but it was the religion of the east, not of the west. it refused all significance to the temporal world; it took no account of society and its needs; it sought to destroy, not to develop, the sense and the power of individuality. it did not say, but it implied, that creation was a mistake; and if it did not profess pessimism, pessimism was its logical outcome. i do not know whether it is the religion of a wise race; but i am sure it could never be that of a strong one. but i loved the saint, and felt that he was a brother. next morning, as we drifted past the long line of ghats, watching the bright figures on the terraces and stairs, the brown bodies in the water, and the brahmins squatting on the shore, we saw him among the bathers, and he called to us cheerily. we waved our hands and passed on, never to see him again. east had not met west, but at least they had shaken hands across the gulf. the gulf, however, was profound; for many and many incarnations will be needed before one soul at least can come even to wish to annihilate itself in the universal. vii a village in bengal at a.m. we got out of the train at a station on the ganges; and after many delays found ourselves drifting down the river in a houseboat. to lie on cushions, sheltered from the sun, looking out on the moving shore, to the sound of the leisurely plash of oars, is elysium after a night in the train. we had seven hours of it and i could have wished it were more. but towards sunset we reached our destination. at the wharf a crowd of servants were waiting to touch the feet of our hosts who had travelled with us. they accompanied us through a tangle of palms, bananas, mangoes, canes, past bamboo huts raised on platforms of hard, dry mud, to the central place where a great banyan stood in front of the temple. we took off our shoes and entered the enclosure, followed by half the village, silent, dignified, and deferential. over ruined shrines of red brick, elaborately carved, clambered and twined the sacred peepul tree. and within a more modern building were housed images of krishna and rhada, and other symbols of what we call too hastily idolatry. outside was a circular platform of brick where these dolls are washed in milk at the great festivals of the year. we passed on, and watched the village weaver at his work, sitting on the ground with his feet in a pit working the pedals of his loom; while outside, in the garden, a youth was running up and down setting up, thread by thread, the long strands of the warp. by the time we reached the house it was dusk. a lamp was brought into the porch. musicians and singers squatted on the floor. behind them a white-robed crowd faded into the night. and we listened to hymns composed by the village saint, who had lately passed away. first there was a prayer for forgiveness. "lord, forgive us our sins. you _must_ forgive, for you are called the merciful. and it's so easy for you! and, if you don't, what becomes of your reputation?" next, a call to the ferry. "come and cross over with me. krishna is the boat and rhada the sail. no storms can wreck us. come, cross over with me." then a prayer for deliverance from the "well" of the world where we are imprisoned by those dread foes the five senses of the mind. then a rhapsody on god, invisible, incomprehensible. "he speaks, but he is not seen. he lives in the room with me, but i cannot find him. he brings to market his moods, but the marketer never appears. some call him fire, some ether. but i ask his name in vain. i suppose i am such a fool that they will not tell it me." then a strange ironical address to krishna. "really, sir, your conduct is very odd! you flirt with the gopis! you put rhada in a sulk, and then ask to be forgiven! you say you are a god, and yet you pray to god! really, sir, what are we to think?" lastly, a mystic song, how krishna has plunged into the ocean of rhada; how he is there drifting, helpless and lost. can we not save him? but no! it is because his love is not perfect and pure. and that is why he must be incarnated again and again in the avatars. are these people idolaters, these dignified old men, these serious youths, these earnest, grave musicians? look at their temple, and you say "yes." listen to their hymns, and you say "no." reformers want to educate them, and, perhaps, they are right. but if education is to mean the substitution of the gramophone and music-hall songs for this traditional art, these native hymns? i went to bed pondering, and was awakened at six by another chorus telling us it was time to get up. we did so, and visited the school, set up by my friend as an experiment; a mud floor, mud-lined walls, all scrupulously clean; and squatting round the four sides children of all ages, all reciting their lessons at once, and all the lessons different. they were learning to read and write their native language, and that, at least, seemed harmless enough. but parents complained that it unfitted them for the fields. "our fathers did not do it"--that, said my impatient young host, is their reply to every attempt at reform. in his library were all the works of nietzsche, tolstoy, wells, and shaw, as well as all the technical journals of scientific agriculture. he lectured them on the chemical constituents of milk and the crossing of sugar-canes. they embraced his feet, sang their hymns, and did as their fathers had done. he has a hard task before him, but one far better worth attempting than the legal and political activities in which most young zemindars indulge. and, as he said, here you see the fields and hear the birds, and here you can bathe in the ganges. we did; and then breakfasted; and then set out in palanquins for the nearest railway station. the bearers sang a rhythmic chant as they bore us smoothly along through mustard and pulses, yellow and orange and mauve. the sun blazed hot; the bronzed figures streamed with sweat; the cheerful voices never failed or flagged. i dozed and drowsed, while east and west in my mind wove a web whose pattern i cannot trace. but a pattern there is. and some day historians will be able to find it. viii sri ramakrishna as we dropped down the hooghly they pointed to a temple on the shore as lately the home of sri ramakrishna. he was only a name to me, and i did not pay much attention, though i had his "gospel" [ ] actually under my arm. i was preoccupied with the sunset, burning behind a veil of smoke; and presently, as we landed, with the great floating haystacks smouldering at the wharf in the red afterglow. as we waited for the tram, someone said, "would you like to see kali?" and we stepped aside to the little shrine. within it was the hideous idol, black and many-armed, decked with tinsel and fed with the blood of goats; and there swept over me a wave of the repulsion i had felt from the first for the hindu religion, its symbols, its cult, its architecture, even its philosophy. seated in the tram, it was with an effort that i opened the "gospel" of sri ramakrishna. but at once my attention was arrested. this was an account by a disciple of the life and sayings of his master. and presently i read the following: "_disciple._ then, sir, one may hold that god is 'with form.' but surely he is not the earthen image that is worshipped! "_master._ but, my dear sir, why should you call it an earthen image? surely the image divine is made of the spirit! "the disciple cannot follow this. he goes on: but is it not one's duty, sir, to make it clear to those who worship images that god is not the same as the clay form they worship, and that in worshipping they should keep god himself in view and not the clay images? * * * * * "_master._ you talk of 'images made of clay.' well, there often comes a necessity of worshipping even such images as these. god himself has provided these various forms of worship. the lord has done all this--to suit different men in different stages of knowledge. "the mother so arranges the food for her children that every one gets what agrees with him. suppose she has five children. having a fish to cook, she makes different dishes out of it. she can give each one of the children what suits him exactly. one gets rich _polow_ with the fish, while she gives only a little soup to another who is of weak digestion; she makes a sauce of sour tamarind for the third, fries the fish for the fourth, and so on, exactly as it happens to agree with the stomach. don't you see? "_disciple._ yes, sir, now i do. the lord is to be worshipped in the image of clay as a spirit by the beginner. the devotee, as he advances, may worship him independently of the image. "_master._ yes. and again, when he sees god he realises that everything--image and all--is a manifestation of the spirit. to him the image is made of spirit--not of clay. god is a spirit." as i read this, i remembered the answer invariably given to me when i asked about hindu idolatry. the people, i was told, even the humblest and most ignorant, worshipped not the idol but what it symbolised. actually, this hideous kali stood to them for the divine mother. and i was told of an old woman, racked with rheumatism, who had determined at last to seek relief from the goddess. she returned with radiant face. she had seen the mother! and she had no more rheumatism. in this popular religion, it would seem, the old cosmic elements have dropped out, and the human only persist. so that even the terrifying form of shiva, the destroyer, stands only for the divine husband of parvati, the divine wife. hinduism, i admitted, is not as inhuman and superstitious as it looks. but i admitted it reluctantly and with many reserves, remembering all i had seen and heard of obscene rites and sculptures, of the perpetual repetition of the names of god, of parasitic brahmins and self-torturing ascetics. what manner of man, then, was this sri ramakrishna? i turned the pages and read: "the disciples were walking about the garden. m. walked by himself at the cluster of five trees. it is about five in the afternoon. coming back to the verandah, north of the master's chamber, m. comes upon a strange sight. the master is standing still. narendra is singing a hymn. he and three or four other disciples are standing with the master in their midst. m. is charmed with their song. never in his life has he heard a sweeter voice. looking at the master, m. marvels and becomes speechless. the master stands motionless. his eyes are fixed. it is hard to say whether he is breathing or not. this state of ecstasy, says a disciple in low tones, is called samadhi. m. has never seen or heard of anything like this. he thinks to himself, 'is it possible that the thought of god can make a man forget the world? how great must be his faith and love for god who is thrown into such a state!'" "yes," i said, "that is the hindu ideal--ecstatic contemplation." something in me leapt to approve it; but the stronger pull was to hellenism and the west. "go your way, ramakrishna," i said, "but your way is not mine. for me and my kind action not meditation; the temporal not the eternal; the human not the ultra-divine; socrates not ramakrishna!" but hardly had i said the words when i read on: "m. enters. looking at him the master laughs and laughs. he cries out, 'why, look! there he is again!' the boys all join in the merriment. m. takes his seat, and the master tells narendra and the other disciples what has made him laugh. he says: "'once upon a time a small quantity of opium was given to a certain peacock at four o'clock in the afternoon. well, punctually at four the next afternoon who should come in but the selfsame peacock, longing for a repetition of the favour--another dose of opium!'--(laughter.) "m. sat watching the master as he amused himself with the boys. he kept up a running fire of chaff, and it seemed as if these boys were his own age and he was playing with them. peals of laughter and brilliant flashes of humour follow upon one another, calling to mind the image of a fair when the joy of the world is to be had for sale." i rubbed my eyes. was this india or athens? is east east? is west west? are there any opposites that exclude one another? or is this all-comprehensive hinduism, this universal toleration, this refusal to recognise ultimate antagonisms, this "mush," in a word, as my friends would dub it--is this, after all, the truest and profoundest vision? and i read in my book: "m.'s egotism is now completely crushed. he thinks to himself: what this god-man says is indeed perfectly true. what business have i to go about preaching to others? have i myself known god? do i love god? about god i know nothing. it would indeed be the height of folly and vulgarity itself, of which i should be ashamed, to think of teaching others! this is not mathematics, or history, or literature; it is the science of god! yes, i see the force of the words of this holy man." footnotes: [footnote : _gospel of sri ramakrishna._ second edition. part . madras: published by the ramakrishna mission. .] ix the monstrous regimen of women here at cape comorin, at india's southernmost point, among the sands and the cactuses and the palms rattling in the breeze, comes to us news of the franchise bill and of militant suffragettes. and i reflect that in this respect england is a "backward" country and travancore an "advanced" one. women here--except the brahmin women--are, and always have been, politically and socially on an equality and more than an equality with men. for this is one of the few civilised states--for aught i know it is the only one--in which "matriarchy" still prevails. that doesn't mean--though the word suggests it--that women govern, though, in fact, the succession to the throne passes to women equally with men. but it means that woman is the head of the family, and that property follows her line, not the man's. all women own property equally with men, and own it in their own right. the mother's property passes to her children, but the father's passes to his mother's kin. the husband, in fact, is not regarded as related to the wife. relationship means descent from a common mother, whereas descent from a common father is a negligible fact, no doubt because formerly it was a questionable one. women administer their own property, and, as i am informed, administer it more prudently than the men. not only so; they have in marriage the superior position occupied by men in the west. the nair woman chooses her own husband; he comes to her house, she does not go to his; and, till recently, she could dismiss him as soon as she was tired of him. the law--man-made, no doubt!--has recently altered this, and now mutual consent is required for a valid divorce. still the woman is, at least on this point, on an equality with the man. and the heavens have not yet fallen. as to the vote, it is not so important or so general here as at home. the people live under a paternal monarchy "by right divine." the rajah who consolidated the kingdom, early in the eighteenth century, handed it over formally to the god of the temple, and administers it in his name. incidentally this gave him access to temple revenues. it also makes his person sacred. so much so that in a recent prison riot, when the convicts escaped and marched to the police with their grievances, the rajah had only to appear and tell them to march back to prison, and they did so to a man, and took their punishment. the government, it will be seen, is not by votes. still there are votes for local councils, and women have them equally with men. any other arrangement would have seemed merely preposterous to the nairs; and perhaps if any exclusion had been contemplated it would have been of men rather than of women. other incidental results follow from the equality of the sexes. the early marriages which are the curse of india do not prevail among the nairs. consequently the schooling of girls is continued later. and this state holds the record in all india for female education. we visited a school of over girls, ranging from infancy to college age, and certainly i never saw school-girls look happier, keener, or more alive. society, clearly, has not gone to pieces under "the monstrous regimen of women." travancore claims, probably with justice, to be the premier native state; the most advanced, the most prosperous, the most happy. because of the position of women? well, hardly. the climate is delightful, the soil fertile, the natural resources considerable. every man sits under his own palm tree, and famine is unknown. the people, and especially the children, are noticeably gay, in a land where gaiety is not common. but one need not be a suffragette to hold that the equality of the sexes is one element that contributes to its well-being, and to feel that in this respect england lags far behind travancore. echoes of the suffrage controversy at home have led me to dwell upon this matter of the position of women. but, to be candid, it will not be that that lingers in my mind when i look back upon my sojourn here. what then? perhaps a sea of palm leaves, viewed from the lighthouse top, stretching beside the sea of blue waves; perhaps a sandy river bed, with brown nude figures washing clothes in the shining pools; perhaps the oiled and golden skins glistening in the sun; perhaps naked children astride on their mothers' hips, or screaming with laughter as they race the motor-car; perhaps the huge tusked elephant that barred our way for a moment yesterday; perhaps the jungle teeming with hidden and menacing life; perhaps the seashore and its tumbling waves. one studies institutions, but one does not love them. often one must wish that they did not exist, or existed in such perfection that their existence might be unperceived. still, as institutions go, this, which regulates the relations of men and women, is, i suppose, the most important. so from the surf of the arabian sea and the blaze of the indian sun i send this little object lesson. x the buddha at burupudur to the north the cone of a volcano, rising sharp and black. to the east another. south and west a jagged chain of hills. in the foreground ricefields and cocoa palms. everywhere intense green, untoned by grey; and in the midst of it this strange erection. seen from below and from a distance it looks like a pyramid that has been pressed flat. in fact, it is a series of terraces built round a low hill. six of them are rectangular; then come three that are circular; and on the highest of these is a solid dome, crowned by a cube and a spire. round the circular terraces are set, close together, similar domes, but hollow, and pierced with lights, through which is seen in each a seated buddha. seated buddhas, too, line the tops of the parapets that run round the lower terraces. and these parapets are covered with sculpture in high relief. one might fancy oneself walking round one of the ledges of dante's "purgatorio" meditating instruction on the walls. here the instruction would be for the selfish and the cruel. for what is inscribed is the legend and cult of the lord of tenderness. much of it remains undeciphered and unexplained. but on the second terrace is recorded, on one side, the life of sakya-muni; on the other, his previous incarnations. the latter, taken from the "jatakas," are naïve and charming apologues. for example: once the buddha lived upon earth as a hare. in order to test him indra came down from heaven in the guise of a traveller. exhausted and faint, he asked the animals for help. an otter brought fish, a monkey fruit, a jackal a cup of milk. but the hare had nothing to give. so he threw himself into a fire, that the wanderer might eat his roasted flesh. again: once the buddha lived upon earth as an elephant. he was met by seven hundred travellers, lost and exhausted with hunger. he told them where water would be found, and, near it, the body of an elephant for food. then, hastening to the spot, he flung himself over a precipice, that he might provide the meal himself. again: once the buddha lived upon earth as a stag. a king, who was hunting him, fell into a ravine. whereupon the stag halted, descended, and helped him home. all round the outer wall run these pictured lessons. and opposite is shown the story of sakya-muni himself. we see the new-born child with his feet on lotuses. we see the fatal encounter with poverty, sickness, and death. we see the renunciation, the sojourn in the wilderness, the attainment under the bo-tree, the preaching of the truth. and all this sculptured gospel seems to bring home to one, better than the volumes of the learned, what buddhism really meant to the masses of its followers. it meant, surely, not the denial of the soul or of god, but that warm impulse of pity and love that beats still in these tender and human pictures. it meant not the hope or desire for extinction, but the charming dream of thousands of lives, past and to come, in many forms, many conditions, many diverse fates. the pessimism of the master is as little likely as his high philosophy to have reached the mind or the heart of the people. the whole history of buddhism, indeed, shows that it did not, and does not. what touched them in him was the saint and the lover of animals and men. and this love it was that flowed in streams over the world, leaving wherever it passed, in literature and art, in pictures of flowers or mountains, in fables and poems and tales, the trace of its warm and humanising flood. still, there is the other buddhism, the buddhism of the thinker; his theory of human life, its value and purpose. and it was this that filled my mind later as i sat on the summit next to a solemn buddha against the setting sun. for a long time i was silent, meditating his doctrine. then i spoke of children, and he said, "they grow old." i spoke of strong men, and he said, "they grow weak." i spoke of their work and achievement, and he said, "they die." the stars came out, and i spoke of eternal law. he said, "one law concerns you--that which binds you to the wheel of life." the moon rose, and i spoke of beauty. he said, "there is one beauty--that of a soul redeemed from desire." thereupon the west stirred in me, and cried "no!" "desire," it said, "is the heart and essence of the world. it needs not and craves not extinction. it needs and craves perfection. youth passes; strength passes; life passes. yes! what of it? we have access to the youth, the strength, the life of the world. man is born to sorrow. yes! but he feels it as tragedy and redeems it. not round life, not outside life, but through life is the way. desire more and more intense, because more and more pure; not peace, but the plenitude of experience. your foundation was false. you thought man wanted rest. he does not. we at least do not, we of the west. we want more labour; we want more stress; we want more passion. pain we accept, for it stings us into life. strife we accept, for it hardens us to strength we believe in action; we believe in desire. and we believe that by them we shall attain." so the west broke out in me; and i looked at him to see if he was moved. but the calm eye was untroubled, unruffled the majestic brow, unperplexed the sweet, solemn mouth. secure in his nirvana, he heard or he heard me not. he had attained the life-in-death he sought. but i, i had not attained the life in life. unhelped by him, i must go my way. the east, perhaps, he had understood. he had not understood the west. xi a malay theatre it seems to be a principle among shipping companies so to arrange their connections that the traveller should be compelled to spend some days in singapore. we evaded this necessity by taking a trip to sumatra, but even so a day and a night remained to be disposed of. we devoted the morning to a bathe and a lunch at the sea view hotel, and the afternoon to the botanical gardens, where the most attractive flowers are the children and the most interesting gardeners their chinese nurses. there remained the evening, and we asked about amusements. there was a bioscope, of course; there is always a bioscope; we had found one even in the tiny town of medan, in sumatra. there was also an opera company, performing the "pink girl." we seemed to know all about her without going to see her. was there nothing else? yes; a malay theatre. that sounded attractive. so we took the tram through the chinese quarter, among the "ah sins" and "hup chows," where every one was either a tailor or a washerman, and got down at a row of red lights. this was the alexandra hall, and a bill informed us that the performers were the straits opera company. this dismayed us a little. still, we paid our dollars, and entered a dingy, dirty room, with a few malays occupying the back benches and a small group of chinese women and children in either balcony. we took our seats with half a dozen coloured aristocrats in the front rows, and looked about us. we were the only europeans. but, to console us in our isolation, on either side of the proscenium was painted a couple of italians in the act of embracing as one only embraces in opera. we glanced at our programme and saw that the play was the "moon princess," and that afrid, a genie, figured in the cast. it was then, at least, oriental, though it could hardly be malay, and our spirits rose. but the orchestra quickly damped them; there was a piano, a violin, a 'cello, a clarionet, and a cornet, and from beginning to end of the performance they were never in tune with themselves or with the singers. and the music? it was sometimes italian, sometimes spanish, never, as far as i could detect, oriental, and always thoroughly and frankly bad. no matter! the curtain rose and displayed a garden. the prince entered. he was dressed in mediæval italian costume (a style of dress, be it said once for all, which was adopted by the whole company). with gestures of ecstatic astonishment he applied his nose to the paper roses. then he advanced and appeared to sing, for his mouth moved; but the orchestra drowned any notes he may have emitted. the song finished, he lay down upon a couch and slept. whereupon there entered an ugly little girl, in a short white frock and black stockings and ribbons, with an expression of fixed gloom upon her face, and began to move her feet and arms in a parody of oriental dancing. we thought at first that she was the moon princess, and felt a pang of disappointment. but she turned out to be the spirit of dreams; and presently she ushered in the real princess, with whom, on the spot, the prince, unlike ourselves, became violently enamoured. she vanished, and he woke to find her a vision. despair of the prince; despair of the king; despair of the queen, not unmixed with rage, to judge from her voice and gestures. consultation of an astrologer. flight of the prince in search of his beloved. universal bewilderment and incompetence, such as may be witnessed any day in the east when anything happens at all out of the ordinary way. at this point enter the comic relief, in the form of woodcutters. i am inclined to suppose, from the delight of the audience, that there was something genuine here. but whatever it was we were unable to follow it. eventually the woodcutters met afrid, whether by chance or design i could not discover. at any rate, their reception was rough. to borrow the words of the synopsis, "a big fight arose and they were thrown to space"; but not till they had been pulled by the hair and ears, throttled and pummelled, to the general satisfaction, for something like half an hour. the next scenes were equally vigorous. the synopsis describes them thus: "several young princes went to genie janar, the father of the moon princess, to demand her in marriage. afrid, a genie, met the princes, and, after having a row, they were all thrown away." the row was peculiar. afrid took them on one by one. the combatants walked round one another, back to back, making feints in the air. then the prince got a blow in, which afrid pretended to feel. but suddenly, with a hoarse laugh, he rushed again upon the foe, seized him by the throat or the arm, and (i cannot improve on the phrase) "threw him away." after all four princes were thus disposed of i left, being assured of a happy ending by the account of the concluding scene: "the prince then took the moon princess to his father's kingdom, where he was married to her amidst great rejoicings." comment perhaps is superfluous. but as i went home in my rickshaw my mind went back to those evenings in india when i had seen indian boys perform to indian music dances and plays in honour of krishna, and to the bengal village where the assembled inhabitants had sung us hymns composed by their native saint. and i remembered that everywhere, in egypt, in india, in java, in sumatra, in japan, the gramophone harmonium is displacing the native instruments; and that the bioscope--that great instrument of education--is familiarising the peasants of the east with all that is most vulgar and most shoddy in the humour and sentiment of the west. the westernising of the east must come, no doubt, and ought to come. but in the process what by-products of waste, or worse! once, surely, there must have been a genuine "malay theatre." this is what europe has made of it. part ii china i first impressions of china some recent travellers have expressed disappointment or even disgust with what they saw or learned or guessed of china. my own first impression is quite contrary. the climate, it is true, for the moment, inclines one to gloomy views. an icy wind, a black sky, a cold drizzle. march in england could hardly do worse. but in canton one almost forgets all that. imagine a maze of narrow streets, more confused and confusing than venice; high houses (except in the old city); and hanging parallel to these, in long, vertical lines, flags and wooden signs inscribed with huge chinese characters, gold on black, gold on red, red or blue on white, a blaze of colour; and under it, pouring in a ceaseless stream, yellow faces, black heads, blue jackets and trousers, all on foot or borne on chairs, not a cart or carriage, rarely a pony, nobody crowding, nobody hustling or jostling, an even flow of cheerful humanity, inexhaustible, imperturbable, convincing one at first sight of the truth of all one has heard of the order, independence, and vigour of this extraordinary people. the shops are high and spacious, level with the street, not, as in india, raised on little platforms; and commonly, within, they are cut across by a kind of arch elaborately carved and blazing with gold. every trade may be seen plying--jade-cutters, cloth-rollers, weavers, ring-makers, rice-pounders, a thousand others. whole animals, roasted, hang before the butchers' shops, ducks, pigs--even we saw a skinned tiger! the interest is inexhaustible; and one is lucky if one does not return with a light purse and a heavy burden of forged curios. even the american tourist, so painfully in evidence at the hotel, is lost, drowned in this native sea. he passes in his chair; but, like oneself, he is only a drop in the ocean. canton is china, as benares is india. and that conjunction of ideas set me thinking. to come from india to china is like waking from a dream. often in india i felt that i was in an enchanted land. melancholy, monotony, austerity; a sense as of perennial frost, spite of the light and heat; a lost region peopled with visionary forms; a purgatory of souls doing penance till the hour of deliverance shall strike; a limbo, lovely but phantasmal, unearthly, over-earthly--that is the kind of impression india left on my mind. i reach china, awake, and rub my eyes. this, of course, is the real world. this is every-day. good temper, industry, intelligence. nothing abnormal or overstrained. the natural man, working, marrying, begetting and rearing children, growing middle-aged, growing old, dying--and that is all. here it is broad daylight; but in india, moon or stars, or a subtler gleam from some higher heaven. recall, for example, benares--the fantastic buildings rising and falling like a sea, the stairs running up to infinity, the sacred river, the sages meditating on its banks, the sacrificial ablutions, the squealing temple-pipes, and, in the midst of this, columns of smoke, as the body returns to the elements and the soul to god. this way of disposing of the dead, when the first shock is over, lingers in the mind as something eminently religious. death and dissolution take place in the midst of life, for death is no more a mystery than life. in the open air, in the press of men, the soul takes flight. she is no stranger, for everything is soul--houses, trees, men, the elements into which the body is resolved. death is not annihilation, it is change of form; and through all changes of form the essence persists. but now turn back to canton. we pass the shops of the coffin-makers. we linger. but "no stop," says our guide; "better coffins soon." "soon" is what the guide-books call the "city of the dead." a number of little chapels; and laid in each a great lacquered coffin in which the dead man lives. i say "lives" advisedly, for there is set for his use a table and a chair, and every morning he is provided with a cup of tea. a bunch of paper, yellow and white, symbolises his money; and perhaps a couple of figures represent attendants. there he lives, quite simply and naturally as he had always lived, until the proper time and place is discovered in which he may be buried. it may be months, it may be, or rather, might have been, years; for i am told that a reforming government has limited the time to six months. and after burial? why, presumably he lives still. but not with the life of the universal soul. oh no! there have been mystics in china, but the chinese are not mystical. what he was he still is, an eating and drinking creature, and, one might even conjecture, a snob. for if one visits the family chapel of the changs--another of the sights of canton--one sees ranged round the walls hundreds of little tablets, painted green and inscribed in gold. these are the memorials of the deceased. and they are arranged in three classes, those who pay most being in the first and those who pay least in the third. one can even reserve one's place--first, second, or third--while one is still alive, by a white tablet. you die, and the green is substituted. and so, while you yet live, you may secure your social status after death. how--how british! yes, the word is out; and i venture to record a suspicion that has long been maturing in my mind. the chinese are not only western; among the western they are english. their minds move as ours do; they are practical, sensible, reasonable. and that is why--as it would seem--they have more sympathy with englishmen, if not with the english government, than with any other westerners. east may be east and west west, though i very much doubt it. but if there be any truth in the aphorism, we must define our terms. the east must be confined to india, and china included in the west. that as a preliminary correction. i say nothing yet about japan. but i shall have more to say, i hope, about china. ii nanking the chinese, one is still told, cannot and will not change. on the other hand, professor ross writes a book entitled _the changing chinese_. and anyone may see that the chinese educated abroad are transformed, at any rate externally, out of all recognition. in canton i met some of the officials of the new government; and found them, to the outward sense, pure americans. the dress, the manners, the accent, the intellectual outfit--all complete! whether, in some mysterious sense, they remain chinese at the core i do not presume to affirm or deny. but an external transformation so complete must imply _some_ inward change. foreign residents in china deplore the foreign-educated product. i have met some who almost gnash their teeth at "young china." but this seems rather hard on china. for nearly a century foreigners have been exhorting her, at the point of the bayonet, to adopt western ways and western ideas. and when she begins to do so, the same people turn round and accuse her of unpardonable levity, and treachery to her own traditions. what _do_ foreigners want? the chinese may well ask. i am afraid the true answer is, that they want nothing but concessions, interest on loans, and trade profits, at all and every cost to china. but i must not deviate into politics. what suggested this train of thought was the student-guide supplied me at nanking by the american missionary college. there he was, complete american; and, i fear i must add, boring as only americans can bore. still, he showed me nanking, and nanking is worth seeing, though the interest of it is somewhat tragic. a wall to feet thick, to feet high, and miles in circuit (i take these figures on trust) encloses an area larger than that of any other chinese city. but the greater part of this area is fields and ruins. you pass through the city gate in the train, and find yourself in the country. you alight, and you are still in the country. a carriage takes you, in time, to the squalid village, or series of villages, where are housed the , inhabitants of modern nanking. among them are quartered the khaki-clad soldiers of new china, the new national flag draped at the gate of their barracks. meantime old china swarms, unregenerate, in the narrow little streets, chaffering, chattering, laughing in its rags as though there had never been a siege, a surrender, and a revolution. beggars display their stumps and their sores, grovelling on the ground like brutes. ragged children run for miles beside the carriage, singing for alms; and stop at last, laughing, as though it had been a good joke to run so far and get nothing for it. one monument in all this scene of squalor arrests attention--the now disused examination hall. it is a kind of rabbit-warren of tiny cells, six feet deep, four feet broad, and six feet high; row upon row of them, opening on narrow unroofed corridors; no doors now, nor, i should suppose, at any time, for it would be impossible to breathe in these boxes if they had lids. here, for a week or a fortnight, the candidates sat and excogitated, unable to lie down at night, sleeping, if they could, in their chairs. and no wonder if, every now and again, one of them incontinently died and was hauled out, a corpse, through a hole in the wall; or went mad and ran amuck among examiners and examinees. for centuries, as is well known, this system selected the rulers of china; and whole lives, from boyhood to extreme old age, were spent in preparing for the examinations. now all this is abolished; and some people appear to regret it. once more, what _do_ the foreigners want? the old imperial city, where once the ming dynasty reigned, was destroyed in the taiping rebellion. the tartar city, where before the revolution mandarins lived on their pensions, was burnt in the siege of . of these cities nothing remains but their huge walls and gates and the ruins of their houses. the principal interest of nanking, the so-called "ming tombs," lies outside the walls. and the interest is not the tombs, but the road to them. it is lined by huge figures carved out of monoliths. brutes first--lions, camels, elephants, horses, a pair of each lying down and a pair standing; then human figures, military and civil officers. what they symbolise i cannot tell. they are said to guard the road. and very impressive they are in the solitude. not so what they lead to, which is merely a hill, artificial, i suppose, piled on a foundation of stone. once, my guide informed me, there was a door giving admission; and within, a complete house, with all its furniture, in stone. but the door is sealed, and for centuries no one has explored the interior. i suggested excavation, but was told the superstition of the inhabitants forbade it. "besides," said my guide, "the chinese are not curious." i wonder? whether or no they are curious, they are certainly superstitious. apropos, a gunboat ran aground on the yangtse. the river was falling, and there seemed no chance of getting off for months. the officers made up their minds to it, and fraternised with the priest of a temple on the bank. the priest one day asked for a photograph of the boat. they gave him one, and he asked them to dinner. after dinner he solemnly burnt the photograph to his god. and--"would you believe it?"--next day a freshet came down and set the vessel afloat. which shows how superstitions are generated and maintained in a world so little subject to law, on the surface of it, as ours. my anecdote has brought me to the yangtse, and it is on a river-boat that i write. hour after hour there passes by the panorama of hills and plain, of green wheat and yellow rape, of the great flood with its flocks of wild duck, of fishers' cabins on the shore and mud-built thatched huts, of junks with bamboo-threaded sails skimming on flat bottoms, of high cliffs with monasteries perched on perilous ledges, of changing light and shade, of burning sunset and the stars. travelling by river is the best of all travelling--smooth, slow, quiet, and soothingly contemplative. all china, i am informed by some pessimists, is in a state of anarchy, actual or latent. it may be. but it is difficult to believe it among these primitive industrious people living and working as they have lived and worked for years. any other country, i suppose, in such a crisis as the present would be seething with civil war. but china? when one puts the point to the foreigner who has been talking of anarchy he says, "ah! but the chinese are so peaceable! they don't mind whether there's a government or no. they just go on without it!" exactly! that is the wonderful thing. but even that seems to annoy the foreigner. once more, what _does_ he want? i give it up. iii in the yangtse gorges at the upper end of the gorge poetically named "ox liver and horse lungs" i watched the steamboat smoking and splashing up stream. she had traversed in a few hours the distance i, in my houseboat, had taken three days to cover; and certainly she is much more convenient and much more comfortable. that, however, is not necessarily an advantage. what may be urged with some force is that travelling by steamboat is more humane. it dispenses with human labour of a peculiarly dangerous and strenuous kind. twenty-eight boatmen are attached to my single person. a big junk may have a crew of two hundred. when the wind is not fair they must row or tow; and towing is not like towing along the thames! suddenly you see the men leap out and swarm up a precipice. presently they appear high above, creeping with the line along a ledge of rock. and your "boy" remarks nonchalantly, "plenty coolie fall here. too high place." or they are clambering over boulders, one or two told off to disentangle the line wherever it catches. or they are struggling along a greasy slope, their bare feet gripping the mud, hardly able to advance a step or even to hold their own. as a labour-saving machine one must welcome the advent of the steamboat, as one is constrained to welcome even that of the motor-omnibus. but from the traveller's point of view it is different. railways and steamboats enable more of us to travel, and to travel farther, in space. but in experience he travels the farthest who travels the slowest. a mediæval student or apprentice walking through europe on foot really did see the world. a modern tourist sees nothing but the inside of hotels. unless, that is, he chooses to walk, or ride, or even cycle. then it is different. then he begins to see. as now i, from my houseboat, begin to see china. not profoundly, of course, but somehow intimately. for instance, while my crew eat their midday rice, i stroll up to the neighbouring village. contrary to all i have been taught to expect, i find it charming, picturesque, not so dirty after all, not so squalid, not so poor. the people, too, who, one thought, would insult or mob the foreigner, either take no notice, or, if you greet them, respond in the friendliest way. they may, of course, be explaining to one another that you are a foreign devil, but nothing in their countenance or manner suggests it. the children are far better-mannered than in most european countries. they may follow you, and chatter and laugh; but at least they have not learnt to beg. curiosity they have, and gaiety, but i detect no sign of hostility. i walk down the long street, with its shops and roomy houses--far roomier and more prosperous-looking than in most indian villages--and come to the temple. smilingly i am invited to enter. there are no mysteries in chinese religion. i begin to wonder, indeed, whether there is any religion left. for everywhere i find the temples and monasteries either deserted or turned into schools or barracks. this one is deserted. it is like a series of lumber-rooms, full of dusty idols. the idols were once gaudy, brightly painted "to look like life," with beards and whiskers of real hair. but now their splendour is dimmed. the demons scowl to no purpose. to no purpose the dragons coil. no trespasser threatens the god behind his dingy curtains. in one chamber only a priest kneels before the shrine and chants out of a book while he taps a bronze vessel with a little hammer. else, solitude, vacuity, and silence. is he buddhist or taoist? i have no language in which to ask. i can only accept with mute gestures the dusty seat he offers and the cup of lukewarm tea. what has happened to religion? so far as i can make out, something like the "disestablishment of the church." the republic has been at work; and in the next village i see what it has been doing. for there the temple is converted into a school. delightedly the scholars show me round. on the outside wall, for him who runs to read, are scored up long addition sums in our western figures. inside, the walls are hung with drawings of birds and beasts, of the human skeleton and organs, even of bacteria! there are maps of china and of the world. the children even produce in triumph an english reading-book, though i must confess they do not seem to have profited by it much. still, they can say "cat" when you show them a picture of the creature; which is more than i could do in chinese. and china does not change? wait a generation! this, remember, is a tiny village in the heart of the country, more than miles from the coast. and this is happening all over the celestial empire, i suppose. i start to return to my boat, but have not gone a quarter of a mile before i hear a shout, and looking back find half the school following me and escorting their teacher, who speaks english. he regrets to have missed my visit; will i not return and let him show me the school? i excuse myself, and he walks with me to the boat, making what conversation he can. one remark i remember--"china a good place now; china a republic." and i thought, as we exchanged cards, that he represented the republic more essentially than the politicians whom foreigners so severely criticise. anyhow, republic or no, china is being transformed. and there is something other than steamboats to attest it. which brings me back to my starting-point. on the steamboat you have no adventures. but on the houseboat you do. for instance, the other day the rope broke as we were towing up a rapid, and down we dashed, turning round and round, and annihilating in five minutes the labour of an hour. i was afraid, i confess; but the boatmen took it as a matter of course. in some way, incomprehensible to me, they got us into the bank, and, looking up, the first thing i saw was an embankment in construction--the railway from ichang to chungking. when it is finished we shall go by train--not even by steamboat,--and so see nothing except tunnels. certainly, we shall not be compelled to pass the night in a small village; nor permitted to see the sunset behind these lovely hills and the moon rising over the river between the cliffs of the gorge. nor shall we then be delayed, as i was yesterday, till the water should run down, and so tempted to walk into the country. i made for a side valley, forded a red torrent, and found myself among fields and orchards; green of mulberries, green of fruit trees, green of young corn; and above, the purple hills, with all their bony structure showing under the skin of soil. i followed a high path, greeted by the peasants i met with a charming smile and that delightful gesture whereby, instead of shaking your hand, they clasp theirs and shake them _at_ you. i came at last to a solitary place, and, sitting down there, watched the evening light on the mountains. i watched, and they seemed to be saying something. what? "rocks that are bones, earth that is flesh, what, what do you mean eyeing me silently? streams that are voices, what, what do you say? you are pouring an ocean into a cup. yet pour, that all it can hold may at least be water of yours." at dusk i got back to the river, and found that a wind had sprung up and the junks were trying to pass the rapid. there must have been fifty of them crowded together. they could only pass one by one; and the scene was pandemonium. the chinese are even noisier than the italians, and present the same appearance of confusion. but in some mysterious way an order is always getting evolved. on this occasion it seemed to be perfectly understood which boat should go first. and presently there she was, in mid-rapid, apparently not advancing an inch, the ropes held taut from a causeway a quarter of a mile off. at last the strain suddenly ceased, and she moved quickly up stream. another followed. then it was dark. and we had to pass the night, after all, tossing uneasily in the rough water. soon after dawn we started again. i went across to the causeway, and watched the trackers at work--twenty each on two ropes, hardly advancing a step in five minutes. then the boat's head swung into shore, the tension ceased; something had happened. i waited half an hour or so. "nothing doing," in the expressive american phrase. then i went back. we had sprung a leak, and my cabin was converted into a swimming-bath. another hour or so repairing this. then the rope had to be brought back and attached again. at last we started for the second time, and in half an hour got safely through the hundred yards of racing waters into the bank above. at ten i got my breakfast, and we started to sail with a fair wind. it dropped. rain came on. my crew (as always in that conjuncture) put up their awning and struck work. so here we are at p.m., in a heavy thunder-shower, a mile from the place we tried to leave at six o'clock this morning. this is the ancient method of travelling--four thousand years old, i suppose. it is very inconvenient! oh, yes--but!---- iv pekin professor giles tells us, no doubt truly, that the chinese are not a religious nation. no nation, i think, ever was, unless it be the indians. but religious impulses sweep over nations and pass away, leaving deposits--rituals, priesthoods, and temples. such an impulse once swept over china, in the form of buddhism; and i am now visiting its deposit in the neighbourhood of pekin. scattered over the hills to the west of the city are a number of monastery temples. some are deserted; some are let as villas to europeans; some, like the one where i am staying, have still their complement of monks--in this temple, i am told, some three to four hundred. but neither here nor anywhere have i seen anything that suggests vitality in the religion. i entered one of the temples yesterday at dusk and watched the monks chanting and processing round a shrine from which loomed in the shadow a gigantic bronze-gold buddha. they began to giggle like children at the entrance of the foreigner and never took their eyes off us. later, individual monks came running round the shrines, beating a gong as though to call the attention of the deity, and shouting a few words of perfunctory praise or prayer. irreverence more complete i have not seen even in italy, nor beggary more shameless. such is the latter end of the gospel of buddha in china. it seems better that he should sit deserted in his indian caves than be dishonoured by such mummeries. but once it must have been otherwise. once this religion was alive. and then it was that men chose these exquisite sites for contemplation. the chinese buddhists had clearly the same sense for the beauty of nature that the italian franciscans had. in secluded woods and copses their temples nestle, courts and terraces commanding superb views over the great plain to pekin. the architecture is delicate and lovely; tiled roofs, green or gold or grey, cornices elaborately carved and painted in lovely harmonies of blue and green; fine trees religiously preserved; the whole building so planned and set as to enhance, not destroy, the lines and colour of the landscape. to wander from one of these temples to another, to rest in them in the heat of the day and sleep in them at night, is to taste a form of travel impossible in europe now, though familiar enough there in the middle ages. specially delightful is it to come at dusk upon a temple apparently deserted; to hear the bell tinkle as the wind moves it; to enter a dusky hall and start to see in a dark recess huge figures, fierce faces, glimmering maces and swords that seem to threaten the impious intruder. this morning there was a festival, and the people from the country crowded into the temple. very bright and gay they looked in their gala clothes. the women especially were charming; painted, it is true, but painted quite frankly, to better nature, not to imitate her. their cheeks were like peaches or apples, and their dresses correspondingly gay. why they had come did not appear; not, apparently, to worship, for their mood was anything but religious. some perhaps came to carry away a little porcelain boy or girl as guarantee of a baby to come. for the chinese, by appropriate rites, can determine the sex of a child--a secret unknown as yet to the doctors of europe! some, perhaps, came to cure their eyes, and will leave at the shrine a picture on linen of the organs affected. some are merely there for a jaunt, to see the sights and the country. we saw a group on their way home, climbing a steep hill for no apparent purpose except to look at the view. what english agricultural labourer would do as much? but the chinese are not "agricultural labourers"; they are independent peasants; and a people so gay, so friendly, so well-mannered and self-respecting i have found nowhere else in the world. the country round pekin has the beauty we associate with italy. first the plain, with its fresh spring green, its dusty paths, its grey and orange villages, its cypress groves, its pagodas, its memorial slabs. then the hills, swimming in amethyst, bare as those of umbria, fine and clean in colour and form. for this beauty i was unprepared. i have even read that there is no natural beauty in china. and i was unprepared for pekin too. how can i describe it? at this time of year, seen from above, it is like an immense green park. you mount the tremendous wall, feet high, miles round, as broad at the top as a london street, and you look over a sea of spring-green tree-tops, from which emerge the orange-gold roofs of palaces and temples. you descend, and find the great roads laid out by kubla khan, running north and south, east and west, and thick, as the case may be, with dust or mud; and opening out of them a maze of streets and lanes, one-storeyed houses, grey walls and roofs, shop fronts all ablaze with gilt carving, all trades plying, all goods selling, rickshaws, mule-carts canopied with blue, swarming pedestrians, eight hundred thousand people scurrying like ants in this gigantic framework of cyclopean walls and gates. never was a medley of greatness and squalor more strange and impressive. one quarter only is commonplace, that of the legations. there is the wagon-lits hotel, with its cosmopolitan stream of chinese politicians, european tourists, concession-hunters, and the like. there are the americans, occupying and guarding the great north gate, and playing baseball in its precincts. there are the germans, the dutch, the french, the italians, the russians, the japanese; and there, in a magnificent chinese palace, are the british, girt by that famous wall of the siege on which they have characteristically written "lest we forget!" forget what? the one or two children who died in the legation, and the one or two men who were killed? or the wholesale massacre, robbery, and devastation which followed when the siege was relieved? this latter, i fear, the chinese are not likely to forget soon. yet it would be better if they could. and better if the europeans could remember much that they forget--could remember that they forced their presence and their trade on china against her will; that their treaties were extorted by force, and their loans imposed by force, since they exacted from china what are ironically called "indemnities" which she could not pay except by borrowing from those who were robbing her. if europeans could remember and realise these facts they would perhaps cease to complain that china continues to evade their demands by the only weapon of the weak--cunning. when you have knocked a man down, trampled on him, and picked his pocket, you can hardly expect him to enter into social relations with you merely because you pick him up and, retaining his property, propose that you should now be friends and begin to do business. the obliquity of vision of the european residents on all these points is extraordinary. they cannot see that wrong has been done, and that wrong engenders wrong. they repeat comfortable formulæ about the duplicity and evasiveness of the chinese; they charge them with dishonesty at the very moment that they are dismembering their country; they attach intolerable conditions to their loans, and then complain if their victims attempt to find accommodation elsewhere. of all the powers the united states alone have shown some generosity and fairness, and they are reaping their reward in the confidence of young china. the americans had the intelligence to devote some part of the excessive indemnity they exacted after the boxer riots to educating chinese students in america. hundreds of these young men are now returned to china, with the friendliest feeling to america, and, naturally, anxious to develop political and commercial relations with her rather than with other powers. british trade may suffer because british policy has been less generous. but british trade, i suppose, would suffer in any case. for the british continue to maintain their ignorance and contempt of china and all things chinese, while germans and japanese are travelling and studying indefatigably all over the country. "we see too much of things chinese!" was the amazing remark made to me by a business man in shanghai. too much! they see nothing at all, and want to see nothing. they live in the treaty ports, dine, dance, play tennis, race. china is in birth-throes, and they know and care nothing. a future in china is hardly for them. v the englishman abroad to write from china about the englishman may seem an odd choice. but to see him abroad is to see him afresh. at home he is the air one breathes; one is unaware of his qualities. against a background of other races you suddenly perceive him, and can estimate him--fallaciously or no--as you estimate foreigners. so seen the englishman appears as the eternal school-boy. i mean no insult; i mean to express his qualities as well as his defects. he has the pluck, the zest, the sense of fair play, the public spirit of our great schools. he has also their narrowness and their levity. enter his office, and you will find him not hurried or worried, not scheming, skimping, or hustling, but cheery, genial, detached, with an air of playing at work. as likely as not, in a quarter of an hour he will have asked you round to the club and offered you a whisky and soda. dine with him, and the talk will turn on golf or racing, on shooting, fishing, and the gymkhana. or, if you wish to divert it, you must ask him definite questions about matters of fact. probably you will get precise and intelligent replies. but if you put a general question he will flounder resentfully; and if you generalise yourself you will see him dismissing you as a windbag. of the religion, the politics, the manners and customs of the country in which he lives he will know and care nothing, except so far as they may touch his affairs. he will never, if he can help it, leave the limits of the foreign settlement. physically he oscillates between his home, his office, the club, and the racecourse; mentally, between his business and sport. on all general topics his opinions are second or third hand. they are the ghosts of old prejudices imported years ago from england, or taken up unexamined from the english community abroad. and these opinions pass from hand to hand till they are as similar as pebbles on the shore. in an hour or so you will have acquired the whole stock of ideas current in the foreign community throughout a continent. your only hope of new light is in particular instances and illustrations. and these, of course, may be had for the asking. but the englishman abroad in some points is the englishman at his best. for he is or has been a pioneer, at any rate in china. and pioneering brings out his most characteristic qualities. he loves to decide everything on his own judgment, on the spur of the moment, directly on the immediate fact, and in disregard of remoter contingencies and possibilities. he needs adventure to bring out his powers, and only really takes to business when business is something of a "lark." to combine the functions of a trader with those of an explorer, a soldier, and a diplomat is what he really enjoys. so, all over the world, he opens the ways, and others come in to reap the fruit of his labours. this is true in things intellectual as in things practical. in science, too, he is a pioneer. modern archæology was founded by english travellers. darwin and wallace and galton in their youth pursued adventure as much as knowledge. when the era of routine arrives, when laboratory work succeeds to field work, the englishman is apt to retire and leave the job to the german. the englishman, one might say, "larks" into achievement, the german "grinds" into it. the one, accordingly, is free-living, genial, generous, careless; the other laborious, exact, routine-ridden. it is hard for an englishman to be a pedant; it is not easy for a german to be anything else. for philosophy no man has less capacity than the englishman. he does not understand even how such questions can be put, still less how anyone can pretend to answer them. the philosopher wants to know whether, how, and why life ought to be lived before he will consent to live it. the englishman just lives ahead, not aware that there is a problem; or convinced that, if there is one, it will only be solved "by walking." the philosopher proceeds from the abstract to the concrete. the englishman starts with the concrete, and may or, more probably, may not arrive at the abstract. no general rules are of any use to him except such as he may have elaborated for himself out of his own experience. that is why he mistrusts education. for education teaches how to think in general, and that isn't what he wants or believes in. so, when he gets into affairs, he discards all his training and starts again at the beginning, learning to think, if he ever does learn it, over his own particular job. and his own way, he opines, must be the right way for every one. hence his contempt and even indignation for individuals or nations who are moved by "ideas." at this moment his annoyance with the leaders of "young china" is provoked largely by the fact that they are proceeding on general notions of how a nation should be governed and organised, instead of starting with the particularities of their own society, and trying to mend it piece by piece and from hand to mouth. before they make a constitution, he thinks, they ought to make roads; and before they draw up codes, to extirpate consumption. the conclusion lies near at hand, and i have heard it drawn--"what they want is a few centuries of british rule." and, indeed, it is curious how constantly the englishman abroad is opposed, in the case of other nations, to all the institutions and principles he is supposed to be proud of at home. partly, no doubt, this is due to his secret or avowed belief that the whole world ought to be governed despotically by the english. but partly it is because he does not believe that the results the english have achieved can be achieved in any other way than theirs. they arrived at them without intention or foresight, by a series of detached steps, each taken without prescience of the one that would follow. so, and so only, can other nations arrive at them. he does not believe in short cuts, nor in learning by the experience of others. and so the watchwords "liberty," "justice," "constitution," so dear to him at home, leave him cold abroad. or, rather, they make him very warm, but warm not with zeal but with irritation. never was such a pourer of cold water on other people's enthusiasms. he cannot endure the profession that a man is moved by high motives. his annoyance, for example, with the "anti-opium" movement is not due to the fact that he supports the importation into china of indian opium. very commonly he does not. but the movement is an "agitation" (dreadful word!). it is "got up" by missionaries. it purports to be based on moral grounds, and he suspects everything that so purports. not that he is not himself moved by moral considerations. almost invariably he is. but he will never admit it for himself, and he deeply suspects it in others. the words "hypocrite," "humbug," "sentimentalist" spring readily to his lips. but let him work off his steam, sit quiet and wait, and you will find, often enough, that he has arrived at the same conclusion as the "sentimentalist"--only, of course, for quite different reasons! for intellect he has little use, except so far as it issues in practical results. he will forgive a man for being intelligent if he makes a fortune, but hardly otherwise. still, he has a queer, half-contemptuous admiration for a definite intellectual accomplishment which he knows it is hard to acquire and is not sure he could acquire himself. that, for instance, is his attitude to those who know chinese. a "sinologue," he will tell you, must be an imbecile, for no one but a fool would give so much time to a study so unprofitable. still, in a way, he is proud of the sinologue--as a public school is proud of a boy so clever as to verge upon insanity, or a village is proud of the village idiot. something of the same feeling, i sometimes think, underlies his respect for shakspere. "if you want that kind of thing," he seems to say to the foreigner, "and it's the kind of thing you _would_ want, _we_ can do it, you see, better than you can!" so with art. he is never a connoisseur, but he is often a collector. partly, no doubt, because there is money in it, but that is a secondary consideration. mainly because collecting and collectors appeal to his sporting instinct. his knowledge about his collection will be precise and definite, whether it be postage stamps or pictures. he will know all about it, except its æsthetic value. that he cannot know, for he cannot see it. he has the _flair_ of the dealer, not the perception of the amateur. and he does not know or believe that there is any distinction between them. but these, from his point of view, are trifles. what matters is that he has pre-eminently the virtues of active life. he is fair-minded, and this, oddly, in spite of his difficulty in seeing another man's point of view. when he _does_ see it he respects it. whereas nimbler-witted nations see it only to circumvent and cheat it. he is honest; as honest, at least, as the conditions of modern business permit. he hates bad work, even when, for the moment, bad work pays. he hates skimping and paring. and these qualities of his make it hard for him to compete with rivals less scrupulous and less generous. he is kind-hearted--much more so than he cares to admit. and at the bottom of all his qualities he has the sense of duty. he will shoulder loyally all the obligations he has undertaken to his country, to his family, to his employer, to his employees. the sense of duty, indeed, one might say with truth, is his religion. for on the rare occasions on which he can be persuaded to broach such themes you will find, i think, at the bottom of his mind that what he believes in is something, somehow, somewhere, in the universe, which helps him, and which he is helping, when he does right. there must, he feels, be some sense in life. and what sense would there be if duty were nonsense? poets, artists, philosophers can never be at home with the englishman. his qualities and his defects alike are alien to them. in his company they live as in prison, for it is not an air in which wings can soar. but for solid walking on the ground he has not his equal. the phrase "solvitur ambulando" must surely have been coined for him. and no doubt on his road he has passed, and will pass again, the wrecks of many a flying-machine. vi china in transition the chinese revolution has proceeded, so far, with less disturbance and bloodshed than any great revolution known to history. there has been little serious fighting and little serious disorder; nothing comparable to that which accompanied, for instance, the french revolution of . and this, no doubt, is due to the fact that the chinese are alone among nations of the earth in detesting violence and cultivating reason. their instinct is always to compromise and save everybody's face. and this is the main reason why westerners despise them. the chinese, they aver, have "no guts." and when hard pressed as to the policy of the western powers in china, they will sometimes quite frankly confess that they consider the west has benefited china by teaching her the use of force. that this should be the main contribution of christian to pagan civilisation is one of the ironies of history. but it is part of the greater irony which gave the christian faith to precisely those nations whose fundamental instincts and convictions were and are in radical antagonism to its teaching. though, however, it is broadly true that the chinese have relied on reason and justice in a way and to a degree which is inconceivable in the west, they have not been without their share of original sin. violence, anarchy, and corruption have played a part in their history, though a less part than in the history of most countries. and these forces have been specially evident in that department to which westerners are apt to pay the greatest attention--in the department of government. government has always been less important in china than in the western world; it has always been rudimentary in its organisation; and for centuries it has been incompetent and corrupt. of this corruption westerners, it is true, make more than they fairly should. china is no more corrupt (to say the least) than the united states or italy or france, or than england was in the eighteenth century. and much that is called corruption is recognised and established "squeeze," necessary, and understood to be necessary, to supplement the inadequate salaries of officials. a chinese official is corrupt much as lord chancellor bacon was corrupt; and whether the chancellor ought properly to be called corrupt is still matter of controversy. moreover, the people have always had their remedy. when the recognised "squeeze" is exceeded, they protest by riot. so that the chinese system, in the most unfavourable view, may be described as corruption tempered by anarchy. and this system, it is admitted, still prevails after the revolution. clearly, indeed, it cannot be extirpated until officials are properly paid; and china is not in a position to pay for any reform while the powers are drawing away an enormous percentage of her resources by that particular form of robbery called by diplomatists "indemnity." the new officials, then, are "corrupt" as the old ones were; and they are something more. they are jacobins. educated abroad, they are as full of ideas as was robespierre or st. just; and their ideas are even more divorced from sentiment and tradition. a foreign education seems to make a cut right across a chinaman's life. he returns with a new head; and this head never gets into normal relations with his heart. that, i believe, is the essence of jacobinism, ideas working with enormous rapidity and freedom unchecked by the fly-wheel of traditional feelings. and it is jacobinism that accounts for the extraordinary vigour of the campaign against opium. many europeans still endeavour to maintain that this campaign is not serious. but that is because europeans simply cannot conceive that any body of men should be in as deadly earnest about a moral issue as are the representatives of young china. the anti-opium campaign is not only serious, it is ruthless. smokers are flogged and executed; poppy is rooted up; and farmers who resist are shot down. the other day in hunan, it is credibly reported, some seventy farmers who had protested against the destruction of their crops were locked into a temple and burnt alive. an old man of seventy-six, falsely accused of growing poppy, was fined dollars, and when he refused to pay was flogged to death by the orders of a young official of twenty-two. stories of this kind come in from every part of the country; and though this or that story may be untrue or exaggerated, there can be no doubt about the general state of affairs. the officials are putting down opium with a vigour and a determination which it is inconceivable should ever be applied in the west to the traffic in alcohol. but in doing so they are showing a ruthlessness which does not seem to be native to the chinese, and which perhaps is to be accounted for by what i have called jacobinism, resulting from the effects of a western education that has been unable to penetrate harmoniously the complicated structure of chinese character. the anti-opium campaign is one example of the way in which the revolution has elicited and intensified violence in this peace-loving people. another example is the use of assassination. this has been an accompaniment of all great revolutions. it took the form of "proscriptions" in rome, of the revolutionary tribunals in france. in china it is by comparison a negligible factor; but it exists. two months ago a prominent leader of the southern party was assassinated; and popular suspicion traces the murder to high government officials, and even to the president himself. the other day a southern general was killed by a bomb. for the manufacture of bombs is one of the things china has learned from the christian west; and the president lives in constant terror of this form of murder. china, it will be seen, does not altogether escape the violence that accompanies all revolutions. nor does she altogether escape the anarchy. anarchy, indeed, that is a simple strike against authority, may be said to be part of the chinese system. it is the way they have always enforced their notions of justice. a curious example has been recently offered by the students of the pekin university. for various reasons--good or bad--they have objected to the conduct of their chancellor. after ineffectual protests, they called upon him in large numbers with his resignation written out, and requested him to sign it. he refused; whereupon they remarked that they would call again the next day with revolvers; and in the interval he saw wisdom and signed. last week there was a similar episode. the new chancellor proved as unpalatable as his predecessor. the students once more presented themselves with his resignation written out. he refused to resign, and, as the students aver, scurrilously abused them. they proceeded to the minister of education, who refused to see them. thereupon they camped out in his courtyard, and stayed all day and all night, sending a message to the professors dated "from under the trees of the education office" to explain that they were unfortunately unable to attend lectures. this chancellor, too, it would seem, has seen wisdom and resigned. how strange it all seems to western eyes! a country, we should suppose, where such things occur, is incapable of organisation. but it is certain that we are wrong. our notion is that everything must be done by authority, and that unless authority is maintained there will be anarchy. the chinese notion is that authority is there to carry out what the people recognise to be common sense and justice; if it does otherwise, it must be resisted; and if it disappears life will still go on--as it is going on now in the greater part of china--on the basis of the traditional and essentially reasonable routine. almost certainly the students of the university had justice on their side; otherwise such action would not be taken; and when they get justice they will be more docile and orderly than our own undergraduates at home. another thing surprising to european observers is the apparent belief of the chinese in verbal remonstrance. under the present régime officials and public men are allowed the free use of the telegraph. the consequence is that telegrams of advice, admonition, approval, blame, fear, hope, doubt pour in daily to the government from civil and military governors, from members of parliament and party leaders. in the paper to-day, for example, is a telegram from the governors of seventeen provinces addressed to the national assembly. it begins as follows: "to the president, the cabinet, the tsan yi yuan, the chung yi yuan, and the press association,--when the revolution took place at wuchang, the various societies and groups responded, and when the republic was inaugurated the troops raised among these bodies were gradually disbanded. for fear that, being driven by hunger, these disbanded soldiers would become a menace to the place, the various societies and groups have established a society at shanghai called the citizens' progressive society, to promote the means of livelihood for the people, and the advancement of society, and the establishment has been registered in the offices of the tutuhs of the provinces." then follows a statement of the "six dangers" to which the country is exposed, an appeal to the assembly to act more reasonably and competently, and then the following peroration: "the declarations of us, yuan-hung and others, are still there, our wounds have not yet been fully recovered, and should the sea and ocean be dried up, our original hearts will not be changed. we will protect the republic with our sinews and blood of brass and iron, we will take the lead of the province, and be their backbone, and we will not allow the revival of the monarchy and the suppression of the powers of the people. let heaven and earth be witness to our words. you gentlemen are pillars of the political parties, or the representatives of the people, and you should unite together and not become inconsistent. you first determined that the loan is necessary, but such opinion is now changed, and you now reject the loan. can the ice be changed into red coal in your hearts? thus even those who love and admire you will not be able to defend your position. however, if you have any extraordinary plan or suggestion to save the present situation, you can show it to us." some of the strange effect produced by this document is due, no doubt, to translation. but it, like the many others of the kind i have read, seems to indicate what is at the root of the chinese attitude to life--a belief in the power of reason and persuasion. i have said enough to show that this attitude does not exclude the use of violence; but i feel sure that it limits it far more than it has ever been limited in europe. even in time of revolution the chinese are peaceable and orderly to an extent unknown and almost unbelievable in the west. and the one thing the west is teaching them and priding itself on teaching them is the absurdity of this attitude. well, one day it is the west that will repent because china has learnt the lesson too well. vii a sacred mountain it was midnight when the train set us down at tai-an-fu. the moon was full. we passed across fields, through deserted alleys where sleepers lay naked on the ground, under a great gate in a great wall, by halls and pavilions, by shimmering tree-shadowed spaces, up and down steps, and into a court where cypresses grew. we set up our beds in a verandah, and woke to see leaves against the morning sky. we explored the vast temple and its monuments--iron vessels of the tang age, a great tablet of the sungs, trees said to date from before the christian era, stones inscribed with drawings of these by the emperor chien lung, hall after hall, court after court, ruinous, overgrown, and the great crumbling walls and gates and towers. then in the afternoon we began the ascent of tai shan, the most sacred mountain in china, the most frequented, perhaps, in the world. there, according to tradition, legendary emperors worshipped god. confucius climbed it six centuries before christ, and sighed, we are told, to find his native state so small. the great chin-shih-huang was there in the third century b.c. chien lung in the eighteenth century covered it with inscriptions. and millions of humble pilgrims for thirty centuries at least have toiled up the steep and narrow way. steep it is, for it makes no détours, but follows straight up the bed of a stream, and the greater part of the five thousand feet is ascended by stone steps. a great ladder of eighteen flights climbs the last ravine, and to see it from below, sinuously mounting the precipitous face to the great arch that leads on to the summit, is enough to daunt the most ardent walker. we at least were glad to be chaired some part of the way. a wonderful way! on the lower slopes it passes from portal to portal, from temple to temple. meadows shaded with aspen and willow border the stream as it falls from green pool to green pool. higher up are scattered pines else the rocks are bare--bare, but very beautiful, with that significance of form which i have found everywhere in the mountains in china. to such beauty the chinese are peculiarly sensitive. all the way up the rocks are carved with inscriptions recording the charm and the sanctity of the place. some of them were written by emperors; many, especially, by chien lung, the great patron of art in the eighteenth century. they are models, one is told, of caligraphy as well as of literary composition. indeed, according to chinese standards, they could not be the one without the other. the very names of favourite spots are poems in themselves. one is "the pavilion of the phoenixes"; another "the fountain of the white cranes." a rock is called "the tower of the quickening spirit"; the gate on the summit is "the portal of the clouds." more prosaic, but not less charming, is an inscription on a rock in the plain, "the place of the three smiles," because there some mandarins, meeting to drink and converse, told three peculiarly funny stories. is not that delightful? it seems so to me. and so peculiarly chinese! it was dark before we reached the summit. we put up in the temple that crowns it, dedicated to yü huang, the "jade emperor" of the taoists; and his image and those of his attendant deities watched our slumbers. but we did not sleep till we had seen the moon rise, a great orange disc, straight from the plain, and swiftly mount till she made the river, five thousand feet below, a silver streak in the dim grey levels. next morning, at sunrise, we saw that, north and east, range after range of lower hills stretched to the horizon, while south lay the plain, with half a hundred streams gleaming down to the river from the valleys. full in view was the hill where, more than a thousand years ago, the great tang poet li-tai-po retired with five companions to drink and make verses. they are still known to tradition as the "six idlers of the bamboo grove"; and the morning sun, i half thought, still shines upon their symposium. we spent the day on the mountain; and as the hours passed by, more and more it showed itself to be a sacred place. sacred to what god? no question is harder to answer of any sacred place, for there are as many ideas of the god as there are worshippers. there are temples here to various gods: to the mountain himself; to the lady of the mountain, pi-hsia-yüen, who is at once the venus of lucretius--"goddess of procreation, gold as the clouds, blue as the sky," one inscription calls her--and the kindly mother who gives children to women and heals the little ones of their ailments; to the great bear; to the green emperor, who clothes the trees with leaves; to the cloud-compeller; to many others. and in all this, is there no room for god? it is a poor imagination that would think so. when men worship the mountain, do they worship a rock, or the spirit of the place, or the spirit that has no place? it is the latter, we may be sure, that some men adored, standing at sunrise on this spot. and the jade emperor--is he a mere idol? in the temple where we slept were three inscriptions set up by the emperor chien lung. they run as follows:-- "without labour, oh lord, thou bringest forth the greatest things." "thou leadest thy company of spirits to guard the whole world." "in the company of thy spirits thou art wise as a mighty lord to achieve great works." these might be sentences from the psalms; they are as religious as anything hebraic. and if it be retorted that the mass of the worshippers on tai shan are superstitious, so are, and always have been, the mass of worshippers anywhere. those who rise to religion in any country are few. india, i suspect, is the great exception. but i do not know that they are fewer in china than elsewhere. for that form of religion, indeed, which consists in the worship of natural beauty and what lies behind it--for the religion of a wordsworth--they seem to be pre-eminently gifted. the cult of this mountain, and of the many others like it in china, the choice of sites for temples and monasteries, the inscriptions, the little pavilions set up where the view is loveliest--all goes to prove this. in england we have lovelier hills, perhaps, than any in china. but where is our sacred mountain? where, in all the country, that charming mythology which once in greece and italy, as now in china, was the outward expression of the love of nature? "great god, i'd rather be a pagan suckled in a creed outworn so might i, standing on this pleasant lea, have glimpses that would make me less forlorn." that passionate cry of a poet born into a naked world would never have been wrung from him had he been born in china. and that leads me to one closing reflection. when lovers of china--"pro-chinese," as they are contemptuously called in the east--assert that china is more civilised than the modern west, even the candid westerner, who is imperfectly acquainted with the facts, is apt to suspect insincere paradox. perhaps these few notes on tai shan may help to make the matter clearer. a people that can so consecrate a place of natural beauty is a people of fine feeling for the essential values of life. that they should also be dirty, disorganised, corrupt, incompetent, even if it were true--and it is far from being true in any unqualified sense--would be irrelevant to this issue. on a foundation of inadequate material prosperity they reared, centuries ago, the superstructure of a great culture. the west, in rebuilding its foundations, has gone far to destroy the superstructure. western civilisation, wherever it penetrates, brings with it water-taps, sewers, and police; but it brings also an ugliness, an insincerity, a vulgarity never before known to history, unless it be under the roman empire. it is terrible to see in china the first wave of this western flood flinging along the coasts and rivers and railway lines its scrofulous foam of advertisements, of corrugated iron roofs, of vulgar, meaningless architectural forms. in china, as in all old civilisations i have seen, all the building of man harmonises with and adorns nature. in the west everything now built is a blot. many men, i know, sincerely think that this destruction of beauty is a small matter, and that only decadent æsthetes would pay any attention to it in a world so much in need of sewers and hospitals. i believe this view to be profoundly mistaken. the ugliness of the west is a symptom of a disease of the soul. it implies that the end has been lost sight of in the means. in china the opposite is the case. the end is clear, though the means be inadequate. consider what the chinese have done to tai shan, and what the west will shortly do, once the stream of western tourists begins to flow strongly. where the chinese have constructed a winding stairway of stone, beautiful from all points of view, europeans or americans will run up a funicular railway, a staring scar that will never heal. where the chinese have written poems in exquisite caligraphy, _they_ will cover the rocks with advertisements. where the chinese have built a series of temples, each so designed and placed as to be a new beauty in the landscape, _they_ will run up restaurants and hotels like so many scabs on the face of nature. i say with confidence that they _will_, because they _have_ done it wherever there is any chance of a paying investment. well, the chinese need, i agree, our science, our organisation, our medicine. but is it affectation to think they may have to pay too high a price for it, and to suggest that in acquiring our material advantages they may lose what we have gone near to lose, that fine and sensitive culture which is one of the forms of spiritual life? the west talks of civilising china. would that china could civilise the west! part iii japan i first impressions of japan japan, surely, must be a mirage created by enchantment. nothing so beautiful could be real. take the west coast of scotland, bathe it in mediterranean light and sun, and let its waves be those of the pacific. take the best of devonshire, enlarge the hills, extend the plains, and dominate all with the only perfect mountain in the world--a mountain that catches at your breath like a masterpiece of art. make the copses woods, and the woods forests. for our fields with their hedgerows substitute the vivid green of rice, shining across the gleam of flooded plains. everywhere let water flow; and at every waterfall and cave erect a little shrine to hallow the spot. over the whole pour a flood of pure white light, and you have a faint image of japan. perhaps it is not, naturally, more beautiful than the british isles--few countries are. but it is unspoilt by man, or almost so. osaka, indeed, is as ugly as manchester, yokohama as liverpool. but these are small blots. for the rest, japan is japan of the middle ages, and lovely as england may have been, when england could still be called merry. and the people are lovely, too. i do not speak of facial beauty. some may think, in that respect, the english or the americans handsomer. but these people have the beauty of life. instead of the tombstone masques that pass for faces among anglo-saxons, they have human features, quick, responsive, mobile. instead of the slow, long limbs creaking in stiff integuments, they have active members, for the most bare or moving freely in loose robes. instead of a mumbled, monotonous, machine-like emission of sound they have real speech, vivacious, varied, musical. their children are the loveliest in the world; so gay, so sturdy, so cheeky, yet never rude. it is a pure happiness merely to walk in the streets and look at them. it is a pure happiness, i might almost say, to look at anyone, so gay is their greeting, so radiant their smile, so full of vitality their gestures. i do not know what they think of the foreigner, but at least they betray no animosity. they let his stiff, ungainly presence move among them unchallenged. perhaps they are sorry for him; but i think they are never rude. i am speaking, of course, of old japan, of the japan that is all in evidence, if one lands, as i did, in the south, avoids osaka, and postpones yokohama and tokio. it is still the japan of feudalism; a system in which i, for my part, do not believe; which, in its essence, in japan as in europe, was harsh, unjust, and cruel; but which had the art of fostering, or at least of not destroying beauty. and in this point feudalism in japan was finer and more sensitive, if it was less grandiose, than feudalism in europe. there is nothing in japan to compare with the churches and cathedrals of the west, for there is no stone architecture at all. but there is nothing in the west to compare with the living-rooms of japan. suites of these dating from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries are to be seen in kyoto and elsewhere. and till i saw them i had no idea how exquisite human life might be made. the japanese, as is well known, discovered the secret of emptiness. their rooms consist of a floor of spotless matting, paper walls, and a wooden roof. but the paper walls, in these old palatial rooms, are masterpieces by great artists. from a background of gold-leaf emerge and fade away suggestions of river and coast and hill, of peonies, chrysanthemums, lotuses, of wild geese and swans, of reeds and pools, of all that is elusive and choice in nature; decorations that are also lyric poems, hints of landscape that yet never pretend to be a substitute for the real thing. the real thing is outside, and perhaps it will not intrude; for where we should have glass windows the japanese have white paper screens. but draw back, if you choose, one of these screens, and you will see a little landscape garden, a little lake, a little bridge, a tiny rockery, a few goldfish, a cluster of irises, a bed of lotus, and, above and beyond, the great woods. these are royal apartments; but all the cost, it will be seen, is lavished on the work of art. the principle is the same in humbler homes. people who could so devise life, we may be sure, are people with a fineness of perception unknown to the west, unless it were once in ancient greece. the japanese indeed, i suspect, are the greeks of the east. in the theatre at kyoto this was curiously borne in upon me. on the floor of the house reclined figures in loose robes, bare-necked and barefooted. on the narrow stage were one or two actors, chanting in measured speech, and moving slowly from pose to pose. from boxes on either side of the stage intoned a kind of chorus; and a flute and pizzicato strings accompanied the whole in the solemn strains of some ancient mode. i have seen nothing so like what a greek play may have been, though doubtless even this was far enough away. and still more was i struck by the resemblance when a comedy succeeded to the tragedy, and i found the young and old japan confronting one another exactly as the young and old athens met in debate, two thousand years ago, in the _frogs_ of aristophanes. the theme was an ascent of mount fuji; the actors two groups of young girls, one costumed as virgin priestesses of the shinto cult, the other in modern european dress. the one set were climbing the mountain as a pilgrimage, the other as a lark; and they meet and exchange sharp dialectics (unintelligible to me, but not unguessable) on the lower slopes. the sympathies of the author, like those of aristophanes, were with the old school. it is the pilgrims who reach the top and the modern young women who collapse. and the modern young man fares no better; he is beaten by a coolie and frightened by a ghost. the playwright had at least aristophanes' gift of lampoon, though i doubt whether he had a touch of his genius. perhaps, however, he had a better cause. for, i doubt, modern japan may deserve lampooning more than the athens of aristophanes. for modern japan is the modern west. and that--well, it seemed to be symbolised to me yesterday in the train. in my carriage were two japanese. one was loosely wrapt in a kimono, bare throat and feet, fine features, fine gestures, everything aristocratic and distinguished. the other was clad in european dress, sprigged waistcoat, gold watch-chain, a coarse, thick-lipped face, a podgy figure. it was a hot july day, and we were passing through some of the loveliest scenery in the world. he first closed all doors and windows, and then extended himself at full length and went to sleep. there he lay, his great paunch sagging--prosperity exuding from every pore--an emblem and type of what in the west we call a "successful" man. and the other? the other, no doubt, was going downhill. both, of course, were japanese types; but the civilisation of the west chose the one and rejected the other. and if civilisation is to be judged, as it fairly may be, by the kind of men it brings to the top, there is much to be said for the point of view of my tory playwright. ii a "no" dance on entering the theatre i was invaded by a sense of serenity and peace. there was no ornament, no upholstery, no superfluity at all. a square building of unvarnished wood; a floor covered with matting, exquisitely clean, and divided into little boxes, or rather trays (so low were the partitions), in which the audience knelt on their heels, beautiful in loose robes; running out from the back wall a square stage, with a roof supported by pillars; a passage on the same level, by which the actors entered, on the left; the screens removed from the outer walls, so that the hall was open to the air, and one looked out on sky and trees, or later on darkness, against which shone a few painted lanterns. compare this with the queen's hall in london, or with any of our theatres, and realise the effect on one's mood of the mere setting of the drama. drama was it? or opera? or what? it is called a "dance." but there was very little dancing. what mainly remains in my mind is a series of visual images, one more beautiful than another; figures seated motionless for minutes, almost for half-hours, with a stillness of statues, not an eyelash shaking; or passing very slowly across the stage, with that movement of bringing one foot up to the other and pausing before the next step which is so ridiculous in our opera, but was here so right and so impressive; or turning slowly, or rising and sitting with immense deliberation; each figure right in its relation to the stage and to the others. all were clothed in stiff brocade, sumptuous but not gorgeous. one or two were masked; and all of them, i felt, ought to have been. the mask, in fact, the use of which in greek drama i had always felt to be so questionable, was here triumphantly justified. it completed the repudiation of actuality which was the essence of the effect. it was a musical sound, as it were, made visible. it symbolised humanity, but it was not human, still less inhuman. i would rather call it divine. and this whole art of movement and costume required that completion. once i had seen a mask i missed it in all the characters that were without it. to me, then, this visual spectacle was the essence of the "no" dance. the dancing itself, when it came, was but a slight intensification of the slow and solemn posing i have described. there was no violence, no leaping, no quick steps; rather a turning and bending, a slow sweep of the arm, a walking a little more rhythmical, on the verge, at most, of running. it was never exciting, but i could not say it was never passionate. it seemed to express a kind of frozen or petrified passion; rather, perhaps, a passion run into a mould of beauty and turned out a statue. i have never seen an art of such reserve and such distinction. "or of such tediousness," i seem to hear an impatient reader exclaim. well, let me be frank. like all westerners, i am accustomed to life in quick time, and to an art full of episode, of intellectual content, of rapid change and rapid development. i have lost to a great extent that power of prolonging an emotion which seems to be the secret of eastern art. i am bored--subconsciously, as it were--where an oriental is lulled into ecstasy. his case is the better. but also, in this matter of the no dance he has me at a disadvantage. in the first place he can understand the words. these, it is true, have far less importance than in a drama of shakspere. they are only a lyric or narrative accompaniment to the music and the dance. still they have, one is informed, a beauty much appreciated by japanese, and one that the stranger, ignorant of the language, misses. and secondly, what is worse, the music failed to move me. whether this is my own fault, or that of the music, i do not presume to decide, for i do not know whether, as so often is the case, i was defeated by a convention unfamiliar to me, or whether the convention has really become formal and artificial. in any case, after the first shock of interest, i found the music monotonous. it was solemn and religious in character, and reminded me more of gregorian chants than of anything else. but it had one curious feature which seemed rather to be primitive and orgiastic. the two musicians who played the drums accompanied the performers, almost unceasingly, by a kind of musical ejaculation, starting on a low note and swooping up to a high, long-held falsetto cry. this over and over again, through the dialogue and through the singing. the object, i suppose, and perhaps, to japanese, the effect, is to sustain a high emotional tone. in my case it failed, as the music generally failed. my interest, as i began by saying, was maintained by the visual beauty; and that must have been very great to be able to maintain itself independently of the words and the music. as to the drama, it is not drama at all in the sense in which we have come to understand the term in the west. there is no "construction," no knot tied and untied, no character. rather there is a succession of scenes selected from a well-known story for some quality of poignancy, or merely of narrative interest. the form, i think, should be called epic or lyric rather than dramatic. and it is in this point that it most obviously differs from the greek drama. it has no intellectual content, or very little. and, perhaps for that reason, it has had no development, but remains fossilised where it was in the fifteenth century. on the other hand, these actors, i felt, are the only ones who could act greek drama. they have, i think, quite clearly the same tradition and aim as the greeks. they desire not to reproduce but to symbolise actuality; and their conception of acting is the very opposite of ours. the last thing they aim at is to be "natural." to be unnatural rather is their object. hence the costume, hence the mask, hence the movement and gesture. and how effective such "unnaturalness" can be in evoking natural passion only those will understand who have realised how ineffective for that purpose is our "naturalness" when we are concerned with sophocles or shakspere. the japanese have in their no dance a great treasure. for out of it they might, if they have the genius, develop a modern poetic drama. how thankful would hundreds of young men be, starving for poetry in england, if we had as a living tradition anything analogous to work upon! iii nikko waking in the night, i heard the sound of running water. across my window i saw, stretching dimly, the branch of a pine, and behind it shone the stars. i remembered that i was in japan and felt that all the essence of it was there. running water, pine trees, sun and moon and stars. all their life, as all their art, seems to be a mood of these. for to them their life and their art are inseparable. the art is not an accomplishment, an ornament, an excrescence. it is the flower of the plant. some men, some families of men, feeling beauty as every one felt it, had the power also to express it. or perhaps i should say--it is the japanese view--to suggest it. to them the branch of a tree stands for a forest, a white disk on gold for night and the moon, a quivering reed for a river, a bamboo stalk for a grove. their painters are poets. by passionate observation they have learnt what expression of the part most inevitably symbolises the whole. that they give; and their admirers, trained like them in feeling, fill in the rest. this art presupposes, what it has always had, a public not less sensitive than the artist; a similar mood, a similar tradition, a similar culture. feel as they do, and you must create as they do, or at least appreciate their creations. it was with this in my mind that i wandered about this exquisite place, where man has made a lovely nature lovelier still. more even than by the famous and sumptuous temples i was moved by the smaller and humbler shrines, so caressing are they of every choice spot, so expressive, not of princely, but of popular feeling. here is one, for instance, standing under a cliff beside a stream, where women offer bits of wood in the faith that so they will be helped to pass safely through the pangs of childbirth. here in a ravine is another where men who want to develop their calves hang up sandals to a once athletic saint. "the lord," our scripture says, "delighteth not in any man's legs." how pleasant, then, it must be to have a saint who does! especially for the japanese, whose legs are so finely made, and who display them so delightfully. such, all over the world, is the religion of the people, when they have any religion at all. and how human it is, and how much nearer to life than the austerities and abstractions of a creed! hour after hour i strolled through these lovely places, so beautifully ordered that the authorities, one feels, must themselves delight in the nature they control. i had proof of it, i thought, in a notice which ran as follows: "famous takino temple stands not far away, and somen fall too. it is worth while to be there once." it is indeed, and many times! but can you imagine a rural council in england breaking into this personal note? and how reserved! almost like japanese art. compare the invitation i once saw in switzerland, to visit "das schönste schwärm- und aussichtspunkt des ganzen schweitzerischen reichs." there speaks the advertiser. but beside the somen fall there was no restaurant. northerners, and anglo-saxons in particular, have always at the back of their minds a notion that there is something effeminate about the sense for beauty. that is reserved for decadent southern nations. _tu regere imperio populos, romane memento_ they would say, if they knew the tag; and translate it "britain rules the waves"! but history gives the lie to this complacent theory. no nations were ever more virile than the greeks or the italians. they have left a mark on the world which will endure when anglo-saxon civilisation is forgotten. and none have been, or are, more virile than the japanese. that they have the delicacy of women, too, does not alter the fact. the russian war proved it, if proof so tragic were required; and so does all their mediæval history. japanese feudalism was as bloody, as ruthless, as hard as european. it was even more gallant, stoical, loyal. but it had something else which i think europe missed, unless it were once in provence. it had in the midst of its hardness a consciousness of the pathos of life, of its beauty, its brevity, its inexplicable pain. i think in no other country has anything arisen analogous to the zen sect of buddhism, when knights withdrew from battle to a garden and summerhouse, exquisitely ordered to symbolise the spiritual life, and there, over a cup of tea served with an elaborate ritual, looking out on a lovely nature, entered into mystic communion with the spirit of beauty which was also the spirit of life. from that communion, with that mood about them, they passed out to kill or to die--to die, it might be, by their own hand, by a process which i think no western man can bear even to think of, much less conceive himself as imitating. this sense at once of the beauty and of the tragedy of life, this power of appreciating the one and dominating the other, seems to be the essence of the japanese character. in this place, it will be remembered, is the tomb of iyeyasu, the greatest statesman japan has produced. appropriately, after his battles and his labours, he sleeps under the shade of trees, surrounded by chapels and oratories more sumptuous and superb than anything else in japan, approached for miles and miles by a road lined on either side with giant cryptomerias. his spirit, if it could know, would appreciate, we may be sure, this habitation of beauty. for these men, ruthless as they were, were none the less sensitive. for example, the traveller is shown (in kyoto, i think) a little pavilion in a garden where hideyoshi used to sit and contemplate the moon. i believe it. i think iyeyasu did the same. and also he wrote this, on a roll here preserved: "life is like unto a long journey with a heavy load. let thy steps be slow and steady, that thou stumble not. persuade thyself that privations are the natural lot of mortals, and there will be no room for discontent, neither for despair. when ambitious desires arise in thy heart, recall the days of extremity thou hast passed through. forbearance is the root of quietness and assurance for ever. look upon wrath as thy enemy. if thou knowest only what it is to conquer, and knowest not what it is to be defeated, woe unto thee! it will fare ill with thee. find fault with thyself rather than with others. better the less than the more." marcus aurelius might have said that. but marcus aurelius belonged to a race peculiarly insensitive to beauty. the japanese stoics were also artists and poets. their earliest painters were feudal lords, and it was feudal lords who fostered and acted the no dances. if nietzsche had known japan--i think he did not?--he would surely have found in these daimyos and samurai the forerunners of his superman. a blood-red blossom growing out of the battlefield, that, i think, was his ideal. it is one which, i hope, the world has outlived. i look for the lily flowering over the fields of peace. iv divine right in japan when japan was opened to the west, after more than two centuries of seclusion, she was in possession of a national spirit which had been enabled, by isolation, to become and remain simple and homogeneous. all public feeling, all public morals centred about the divinity of the emperor; an idea which, by a process unique in history, had hibernated through centuries of political obscuration, and emerged again to the light with its prestige unimpaired in the middle of the nineteenth century. in the emperor, one may say, japan was incarnate. and to this faith the japanese, as well as foreign observers, attribute their great achievement in the russian war. the little book of captain sakurai, _human bullets_, testifies to this fact in every sentence: "through the abundant grace of heaven and the illustrious virtue of his majesty, the imperial forces defeated the great enemy both on land and sea." ... "i jumped out of bed, cleansed my person with pure water, donned my best uniform, bowed to the east where the great sire resides, solemnly read his proclamation of war, and told his majesty that his humble subject was just starting to the front. when i offered my last prayers--the last i then believed they were--before the family shrine of my ancestors i felt a thrill going all through me, as if they were giving me a solemn injunction, saying: 'thou art not thy own. for his majesty's sake, thou shalt go to save the nation from calamity, ready to bear the crushing of thy bones and the tearing of thy flesh. disgrace not thy ancestors by an act of cowardice.'" this, it is clear, is an attitude quite different from that of an englishman towards the king. the king, to us, is at most a symbol. the emperor, to the japanese, is, or was, a god. and the difference may be noted in small matters. for instance, a japanese, writing from england, observes with astonishment that we put the head of the king on our stamps and cover it with postmarks. that, to a japanese, seems to be blasphemy. again, he is puzzled, at the coronation in westminster abbey, to find the people looking down from above on the king. that, again, seems to him blasphemy. last year, when the emperor was dying, crowds knelt hour after hour, day and night, on the road beside the palace praying for him. and a photographer who took a picture of them by flashlight was literally torn to pieces. one could multiply examples, but the thing is plain. the national spirit of japan centres about the divinity of the emperor. and precisely therein lies their present problem. for one may say, i think, with confidence that this attitude cannot endure, and is already disappearing. western thought is an irresistible solvent of all irrational and instinctive ideas. men cannot be engineers and pathologists and at the same time believe that a man is a god. they cannot be historians and at the same time believe that their first emperor came down from heaven. above all, they cannot be politicians and abstain from analysing the real source and sanction of political power. english political experience, it is true, suggests immense possibilities in the way of clinging to fictions with the feelings while insisting upon facts in practice. and the famous verse: "but i was thinking of a plan to dye my whiskers green, and always wear so large a fan that they should not be seen," might have been written to summarise the development of the british constitution. but the success of that method depends upon the condition that the fictions shall be nothing _but_ fictions. the feelings of the english can centre about the king only because they are well assured that he does not and will not govern. but that condition does not exist in japan. the japanese constitution is conceived on the german, not the english, model; and it bristles with clauses which are intended to prevent the development which has taken place in england--the shifting of power from the sovereign to a parliamentary majority. the ministers are the emperor's ministers; the policy is the emperor's policy. that is the whole tenour of the constitution. no constitution, it is true, can "trammel up" facts and put power anywhere but where nature puts it. if an emperor is not a strong man he will not govern, and his ministers will. and it seems to be well understood among japanese politicians that the personal will of the emperor does not, in fact, count for very much. but it is supposed to; and that must become an important point so soon as conflict develops between the parliament and the government. and such conflict is bound to arise, and is already arising. japanese parties, it is true, stand for persons rather than principles; and the real governing power hitherto has been a body quite unknown to the constitution--namely, the group of "elder statesmen." but there are signs that this group is disintegrating, and that its members are beginning to recognise the practical necessity of forming and depending upon a party in the country and the house of representatives. the crisis which led, the other day, to the fall of prince katsura was provoked by popular tumults; and it was noticeable that, for the first time, the name of the emperor was introduced into political controversy. it seems clear that in the near future either the emperor must appear openly as a fighting force, as the german emperor does, or he must subside into a figure-head and the government pass into the hands of parliament. the former alternative is quite incompatible with the idea of the god-king; the latter might not be repugnant to it if other things tended to foster it. but it is so clear that they do not! an emperor who is titular head of a parliamentary government might, and in japan no doubt _would_, be surrounded with affection and respect. he could never be seriously regarded as divine. for that whole notion belongs to an age innocent of all that is implied in the very possibility of parliamentary government. it belongs to the age of mythology and poetry, not to the age of reason. japanese patriotism in the future must depend on love of country, unsupported by the once powerful sanction of a divine personality. if this be true, i question very much the wisdom of that part of the japanese educational system which endeavours to centre all duty about the person of the emperor. the japanese are trying a great experiment in state-imposed morality--a policy highly questionable at the best, but becoming almost demonstrably absurd when it is based on an idea which is foredoomed to discredit. the well-known imperial rescript, which is kept framed in every school, reads as follows: "our ancestors founded the state on a vast basis, and deeply implanted virtue; and our subjects, by their unanimity in their great loyalty and filial affection, have in all ages shown these qualities in perfection. such is the essential beauty of our national polity, and such, too, is the true spring of our educational system. you, our beloved subjects, be filial to your parents, affectionate to your brothers, be loving husbands and wives, and truthful to your friends. conduct yourselves with modesty, and be benevolent to all. develop your intellectual faculties and perfect your moral power by gaining knowledge and by acquiring a profession. further, promote the public interest and advance the public affairs; and in case of emergency, courageously sacrifice yourself to the public good. thus offer every support to our imperial dynasty, which shall be as lasting as the universe. you will then not only be our most loyal subjects, but will be enabled to exhibit the noble character of your ancestors. "such are the testaments left us by our ancestors, which must be observed alike by their descendants and subjects. these precepts are perfect throughout all ages and of universal application. it is our desire to bear them in our heart, in common with you our subjects, to the end that we may constantly possess their virtues." this rescript may be read with admiration. but common sense would teach every westerner that a document so framed is at variance with the whole bent of the modern mind, and, if forced upon it, could only goad it into rebellion. and such, i have been informed, and easily believe, is the effect it is beginning to have in japan. young people brought up on western languages and western science demand a western, that is a rational, sanction for conduct. they do not believe the emperor to be divine, and therefore they cannot take their moral principles on trust from him and from his ancestors. the violent reaction from this state-imposed doctrine drives them into sheer scepticism and anarchy. and here, as always throughout history, authority defeats its own purposes. western ideas cannot be taken _in part_. they cannot be applied to the natural world and fenced off from the moral world. japan must go through the same crisis through which the west is passing; she must revise the whole basis of her traditional morals. and in doing so she must be content to lose that passionate and simple devotion which is the good as well as the evil product of an age of uncritical faith. v fuji it was raining when we reached gotemba and took off our boots at the entrance of the inn. i had never before stayed at a japanese inn, and this one, so my friend assured me, was a bad specimen of the class. certainly it was disorderly and dirty. it was also overcrowded. but that was inevitable, for a thousand pilgrims in a day were landing at gotemba station. men and women, young and old, grandparents, parents, children come flocking in to climb the great mountain. the village street is lined with inns; and in front of each stood a boy with a lantern hailing the new arrivals. we were able, in spite of the crowd, to secure a room to ourselves, and even, with difficulty, some water to wash in--too many people had used and were using the one bath! a table and a chair were provided for the foreigner, and very uncouth they looked in the pretty japanese room. but a bed was out of the question. one had to sleep on the floor among the fleas. certainly it was not comfortable; but it was amusing. from my room in the upper storey i looked into the whole row of rooms in the inn opposite, thrown open to the street, with their screens drawn back. one saw families and parties, a dozen or more in a room, dressing and undressing, naked and clothed, sleeping, eating, talking; all, of course, squatting on the floor, with a low stool for a table, and red-lacquered bowls for plates and dishes. how people manage to eat rice with chopsticks will always be a mystery to me. for my own part, i cannot even--but i will not open that humiliating chapter. of the night, the less said the better. i rose with relief, but dressed with embarrassment; for the girl who waited on us selected the moment of my toilet to clean the room. it was still raining hard, and we had decided to abandon our expedition, for another night in that inn was unthinkable. but, about eleven, a gleam of sun encouraged us to proceed, and we started on horseback for the mountain. and here i must note that by the official tariff, approved by the police, a foreigner is charged twice as much for a horse as a japanese. if one asks why, one is calmly informed that a foreigner, as a rule, is heavier! this is typical of travel in japan; and there have been moments when i have sympathised with the californians in their discrimination against the japanese. those moments, however, are rare and brief, and speedily repented of. naturally, as soon as we had started the weather clouded over again. we rode for three hours at a foot-pace, and by the time we left our horses and began the ascent on foot we were wrapped in thick, cold mist. there is no difficulty about climbing fuji, except the fatigue. you simply walk for hours up a steep and ever-steeper heap of ashes. it was perhaps as well that we did not see what lay before us, or we might have been discouraged. we saw nothing but the white-grey mist and the purple-grey soil. except that, looming out of the cloud just in front of us, there kept appearing and vanishing a long line of pilgrims, with peaked hats, capes, and sandals, all made of straw, winding along with their staffs, forty at least, keeping step, like figures in a frieze, like shadows on a sheet, like spirits on the mountain of purgatory, like anything but solid men walking up a hill. so for hours we laboured on, the slope becoming steeper every step, till we could go no further, and stopped at a shelter to pass the night. here we were lucky. the other climbers had halted below or above, and we had the long, roomy shed to ourselves. blankets, a fire of wood, and a good meal restored us. we sat warming and congratulating ourselves, when suddenly our guide at the door gave a cry. we hurried to see. and what a sight it was! the clouds lay below us and a starlit sky above. at our feet the mountain fell away like a cliff, but it fell rather to a glacier than a sea--a glacier infinite as the ocean, yawning in crevasses, billowing in ridges; a glacier not of ice, but of vapour, changing form as one watched, opening here, closing there, rising, falling, shifting, while far away, at the uttermost verge, appeared a crimson crescent, then a red oval, then a yellow globe, swimming up above the clouds, touching their lights with gold, deepening their shadows, and spreading, where it rose, a lake of silver fire over the surface of the tossing plain. we looked till it was too cold to look longer, then wrapped ourselves in quilts and went to sleep. at midnight i woke. outside there was a strange moaning. the wind had risen; and the sound of it in that lonely place gave me a shock of fear. the mountain, then, was more than a heap of dead ashes. presences haunted it; powers indifferent to human fate. that wind had blown before man came into being, and would blow when he had ceased to exist. it moaned and roared. then it was still. but i could not sleep again, and lay watching the flicker of the lamp on the long wooden roof, and the streaks of moonlight through the chinks, till the coolie lit a fire and called us to get up. we started at four. the clouds were still below, and the moon above; but she had moved across to the west, orion had appeared, and a new planet blazed in the east. the last climb was very steep and our breath very scant. but we had other things than that to think of. through a rift in a cloud to the eastward dawned a salmon-coloured glow; it brightened to fire; lit up the clouds above and the clouds below; blazed more and intolerably, till, as we reached the summit, the sun leapt into view and sent a long line of light down the tumultuous sea of rolling cloud. how cold it was! and what an atmosphere inside the highest shelter, where sleepers had been packed like sardines and the newly kindled fire filled the fetid air with acrid smoke! what there was to be seen we saw--the crater, neither wide nor deep; the shinto temple, where a priest was intoning prayers; and the post office, where an enterprising government sells picture-postcards for triumphant pilgrims to despatch to their friends. my friend must have written at least a dozen, while i waited and shivered with numbed feet and hands. but after an hour we began the descent, and quickly reached the shelter where we were to breakfast. thence we had to plunge again into the clouds. but before doing so we took a long look at the marvellous scene--more marvellous than any view of earth; icebergs tossing in a sea, mountains exhaling and vanishing, magic castles and palaces towering across infinite space. a step, and once more the white-grey mist and the purple-grey soil. but the clouds had moved higher; and it was not long before we saw, to the south, cliffs and the sea, to the east, the gleam of green fields, running up, under cloud-shadows, to mountain ridges and peaks. and so back to gotemba, and our now odious inn. we would not stop there. so we parted, my friend for tokyo, i for kyoto. but time-tables had been fallacious, and i found myself landed at numatsa, with four hours to wait for the night train, no comfort in the waiting-room, and no japanese words at my command. i understood then a little better why foreigners are so offensive in the east. they do not know the language; they find themselves impotent where their instinct is to domineer; and they visit on the oriental the ill-temper which is really produced by their own incompetence. yes, i must confess that i had to remind myself severely that it was i, and not the japanese, who was stupid. at last the station-master came to my rescue--the station-master always speaks english. he endured my petulance with the unfailing courtesy and patience of his race, and sent me off at last in a rickshaw to the beach and a japanese hotel. but my troubles were not ended. i reached the hotel; i bowed and smiled to the group of kow-towing girls; but how to tell them that i wanted a bathe and a meal? signs were unavailing. we looked at one another and laughed, but that did not help. at last they sent for a student who knew a little english. i could have hugged him. "it is a great pity," he said, "that these people do not know english." the pity, i replied, was that i did not know japanese, but his courtesy repudiated the suggestion. could i have a bathing costume? of course! and in a quarter of an hour he brought me a wet one. where could i change? he showed me a room; and presently i was swimming in the sea, with such delight as he only can know who has ascended and descended fuji without the chance of a bath. returning to the inn, i wandered about in my wet costume seeking vainly the room in which i had changed. laughing girls pushed me here, and pulled me there, uncomprehending of my pantomime, till one at last, quicker than the rest, pulled back a slide, and revealed the room i was seeking. then came dinner--soup, fried fish, and rice; and--for my weakness--a spoon and fork to eat them with. the whole house seemed to be open, and one looked into every room, watching the ways of these gay and charming people. at last i paid--to accomplish _that_ by pantomime was easy,--and said good-bye to my hostess and her maids, who bowed their heads to the ground and smiled as though i had been the most honoured of guests instead of a clumsy foreigner, fit food for mirth. a walk in a twilight pine wood, and then back to the station, where i boarded the night train, and slept fitfully until five, when we reached kyoto, and my wanderings were over. how i enjoyed the comfort of the best hotel in the east! but also how i regretted that i had not long ago learnt to find comfort in the far more beautiful manner of life of japan! vi japan and america on the reasons, real or alleged, for the hostility of the californians to the japanese this is not the place to dwell. at bottom, it is a conflict of civilisations, a conflict which is largely due to ignorance and misunderstanding, and which should never be allowed to develop into avowed antagonism. for with time, patience, and sympathy it will disappear of itself. the patience and sympathy, i think, are not lacking on the side of the japanese, but they are sadly lacking among the californians, and indeed among all white men in western america. the truth is that the western pioneer knows nothing of japan and wants to know nothing. and he would be much astonished, not to say indignant, were he told that the civilisation of japan is higher than that of america. yet there can, i think, be no doubt that this is the case, if real values be taken as a standard. america, and the "new" countries generally, have contributed, so far, nothing to the world except material prosperity. i do not under-estimate this. it is a great thing to have subdued a continent. and it may be argued that those who are engaged in this task have no energy to spare for other activities. but the japanese subdued their island centuries, even millenniums, ago. and, having reduced it to as high a state of culture as they required, they began to live--a thing the new countries have not yet attempted. to live, in the sense in which i am using the term, implies that you reflect life in the forms of art, literature, philosophy, and religion. to all these things the japanese have made notable contributions; less notable, indeed, than those of china, from whom they derived their inspiration, but still native, genuine, and precious. to take first bare externals, the physical life of the japanese is beautiful. i read with amazement the other day a quotation from a leading californian newspaper to the effect that "there is an instinctive sense of physical repugnance on the part of the western or european races towards the japanese race"! had the writer, i wonder, ever been in japan? perhaps it would have made no difference to him if he had, for he is evidently one of those who cannot or will not see. but to me the first and chief impression of japan is the physical attractiveness of the people. the japanese are perfectly proportioned; their joints, their hands, their feet, their hips are elegant and fine; and they display to the best advantage these natural graces by a costume which is as beautiful as it is simple. to see these perfect figures walking, running, mounting stairs, bathing, even pulling rickshaws, is to receive a constant stream of shocks of surprise and delight. in so much that, after some weeks in the country, i begin to feel "a sense of physical repugnance" to americans and europeans--a sense which, if i were as uneducated and inexperienced as the writer in the _argonaut_, i should call "instinctive," and make the basis of a campaign of race-hatred. the misfortune is that the japanese abandon their own dress when they go abroad. and in european dress, which they do not understand, and which conceals their bodies, they are apt to look mean and vulgar. similarly, in european dress, they lose their own perfect manners and mis-acquire the worst of the west. so that there may be some excuse for feeling "repugnance" to the japanese abroad, though, of course, it is merely absurd and barbarous to base upon such superficial distaste a policy of persecution and insult. if we turn from the body to the mind and the spirit, the japanese show themselves in no respect inferior, and in some important respects superior, to the americans. new though they are to the whole mental attitude which underlies science and its applications, they have already, in half a century, produced physicians, surgeons, pathologists, engineers who can hold their own with the best of europe and america. all that the west can do in this, its own special sphere, the japanese, late-comers though they be, are showing that they can do too. in particular, to apply the only test which the western nations seem really to accept, they can build ships, train men, organise a campaign, and beat a great western power at the west's own game of slaughter. but all this, of science and armaments, big though it bulks in our imagination, is secondary and subordinate in a true estimate of civilisation. the great claim the japanese may make, as i began by saying, is that they have known how to live; and they have proved that by the only test--by the way they have reflected life. japanese literature and art may not be as great as that of europe; but it exists, whereas that of america and all the new countries is yet to seek. while europe was still plunged in the darkest of the dark ages, japanese poets were already producing songs in exquisite response to the beauty of nature, the passion and pathos of human life. from the seventh century on, their painting and their sculpture was reflecting in tender and gracious forms the mysteries of their faith. their literature and their art changed its content and its form with the centuries, but it continued without a break, in a stream of genuine inspiration, down to the time when the west forced open the doors of japan to the world. from that moment, under the new influences, it has sickened and declined. but what a record! and a record that is also an incontrovertible proof that the japanese belong to the civilised nations--the nations that can live and express life. but perhaps this test may be rejected. morals, it may be urged, is the touchstone of civilisation, not art. well, take morals. the question is a large one; but, summarily, where do the japanese fail, as compared with the western nations? is patriotism the standard? in this respect what nation can compete with them? is it courage? what people are braver? is it industry? who is more industrious? it is their very industry that has aroused the jealous fears of the californians. is it family life? where, outside the east, is found such solidarity as in japan? is it sexual purity? on that point, what western nation can hold up its head? is it honesty? what of the honesty of the west? no; no westerner, knowing the facts, could for a moment maintain that, all round and on the whole, the morals of the japanese are inferior to those of europe or america. it would probably be easier to maintain the opposite. judged by every real test the japanese civilisation is not lower, it is higher than that of any of the new countries who refuse to permit the japanese to live among them. that, i admit, does not settle the question. competent and impartial men like admiral mahan, who would admit all that i have urged, still maintain that the japanese ought not to be allowed to settle in the west. this conclusion i do not now discuss. the point i wish to make is that the question can never be fairly faced, in a dry light, and with reference only to the simple facts, until the prejudice is broken up and destroyed that the japanese, and all other orientals, are "inferior" races. it is this prejudice which distorts all the facts and all the values, which makes californians and british columbians and australians sheerly unreasonable, and causes them to jump at one argument after another, each more fallacious than the last, to defend an attitude which at bottom is nothing but the childish and ignorant hatred of the uncultivated man for everything strange. if the japanese had had white skins, should we ever have heard of the economic argument? and should we ever have been presented with that new shibboleth "unassimilable"? vii home moscow, berlin, paris, london! what a crescendo of life! what a quickening of the flow! what a gathering intensity! "whatever else we may think of the west," i said to the young french artist, "it is, at any rate, the centre of life." "yes," he replied, "but the curious thing is that that life produces only death. dead things, and dead people." i reflected. yes! the _things_ certainly were dead. look at the louvre! look at the madeleine! look at any of the streets! machine-men had made it all, not human souls. the men were dead, then, too? "certainly!" he insisted. "their works are a proof. where there is life there is art. and there is no art in the modern world--neither in the east nor in the west." "then what is this that looks like life?" i said, looking at the roaring streets. he shrugged his shoulders and said, "steam." with that in my mind, i crossed to england, and forgot criticism and speculation in the gleam of the white cliffs, in the trim hedgerows and fields, in the sound of english voices and the sight of english faces. in london it was the same. the bright-cheeked messenger boys, the discreetly swaggering chauffeurs, the quiet, competent young men in city offices who reassured me about my baggage, the autumn sun on the maze of misty streets, the vast picturesqueness of london, its beauty as of a mountain or the sea, fairly carried me off my feet. and passing st. paul's--"dead," i muttered, as i looked at its derivative facade,--i went in to take breath. from the end of the vast, cold space came the dreary wail i remembered so well. i had heard church music at moscow, and knew what it ought to be. but the tremendous passion of that eastern plain-song would have offended these discreet walls. i was in a "sacred edifice"; and with a pang of regret i recalled the wooden shrines of japan under the great trees, the solemn buddhas, and the crowds of cheerful worshippers. i walked down the empty nave and came under the dome. then something happened--the thing that always happens when one comes into touch with the work of a genius. and wren's dome proves that he was that. i sat down, and the organ began to play; or rather, the dome began to sing. and down the stream of music floated in fragments visions of my journey--indians nude like bronzes, blue-coated chinese, white robes and bare limbs from japan, plains of corn, plains of rice, plains of scorched grass; snow-peaks under the stars, volcanoes, green and black; huge rivers, tumbling streams, waterfalls, lakes, the ocean; hovels and huts of wood or sun-dried bricks, thatched or tiled; marble palaces and baths; red lacquer, golden tiles; saints, kings, conquerors, and, enduring or worshipping these, a myriad generations of peasants through long millenniums, toiling, suffering, believing, in one unchanging course of life, before the dawn of history on and down to here and now. as they were, so they are; and i heard them sound as with the drone of oriental music. then above that drone something new appeared. late in time, western history emerged, and--astonishing thing--began to move and change! "why," i said, "there's something trying to happen! what is it? is there going to be a melody?" there was not one. but there was--has the reader ever heard the second--or is it the third?--overture to "leonora"? a scale begins to run up, first on the violins; then one by one the other instruments join in, till the great basses are swept into the current and run and scale too. so it was here. the west began; but the east caught it up. the unchanging drone began to move and flow. faster and faster, louder and louder, more and more intensely, crying and flaming towards--what? beethoven knew, and put it into his music. we cannot put it into ideas or words. we can see the problem, not the solution; and the problem is this. to reconcile the western flight down time with the eastern rest in eternity; the western multiformity with the eastern identity; the western energy with the eastern peace. for god is neither time nor eternity, but time in eternity; neither one nor many, but one in many; neither spirit nor matter, but matter-spirit. that the great artists know, and the great saints; the modern artists and the modern saints, who have been or who will be. goethe was one; beethoven was one; and there will be greater, when the contact between east and west becomes closer, and the sparks from pole to pole fly faster. i had dropped into mere thinking, and realised that the organ had stopped. i left the great church and came out upon the back of queen anne, which made me laugh. still, it was quite religious; so were the 'buses, and the motor-cars, and the shops and offices, and the law courts, and the top-hats, and the crossing-sweepers. "dear people," i said, "you are not dead, any more than i am. you think you are, as i too often do. when you feel dead you should go to church; but not in a 'sacred edifice.' beethoven, even in the queen's hall, is better." part iv america i the "divine average" the great countries of the east have each a civilisation that is original, if not independent. india, china, japan, each has a peculiar outlook on the world. not so america, at any rate in the north. america, we might say, does not exist; there exists instead an offshoot of europe. nor does an "american spirit" exist; there exists instead the spirit of the average western man. americans are immigrants and descendants of immigrants. putting aside the negroes and a handful of orientals, there is nothing to be found here that is not to be found in western europe; only here what thrives is not what is distinctive of the different european countries, but what is common to them all. what america does, not, of course, in a moment, but with incredible rapidity, is to obliterate distinctions. the scotchman, the irishman, the german, the scandinavian, the italian, even, i suppose, the czech, drops his costume, his manner, his language, his traditions, his beliefs, and retains only his common western humanity. transported to this continent all the varieties developed in europe revert to the original type, and flourish in unexampled vigour and force. it is not a new type that is evolved; it is the fundamental type, growing in a new soil, in luxuriant profusion. describe the average western man and you describe the american; from east to west, from north to south, everywhere and always the same--masterful, aggressive, unscrupulous, egotistic, at once good-natured and brutal, kind if you do not cross him, ruthless if you do, greedy, ambitious, self-reliant, active for the sake of activity, intelligent and unintellectual, quick-witted and crass, contemptuous of ideas but amorous of devices, valuing nothing but success, recognising nothing but the actual, man in the concrete, undisturbed by spiritual life, the master of methods and slave of things, and therefore the conqueror of the world, the unquestioning, the undoubting, the child with the muscles of a man, the european stripped bare, and shown for what he is, a predatory, unreflecting, naïf, precociously accomplished brute. one does not then find in america anything one does not find in europe; but one finds in europe what one does not find in america. one finds, as well as the average, what is below and what is above it. america has, broadly speaking, no waste products. the wreckage, everywhere evident in europe, is not evident there. men do not lose their self-respect, they win it; they do not drop out, they work in. this is the great result not of american institutions or ideas, but of american opportunities. it is the poor immigrant who ought to sing the praises of this continent. he alone has the proper point of view; and he, unfortunately, is dumb. but often, when i have contemplated with dreary disgust, in the outskirts of new york, the hideous wooden shanties planted askew in wastes of garbage, and remembered naples or genoa or venice, suddenly it has been borne in upon me that the italians living there feel that they have their feet on the ladder leading to paradise; that for the first time they have before them a prospect and a hope; and that while they have lost, or are losing, their manners, their beauty and their charm, they have gained something which, in their eyes, and perhaps in reality, more than compensates for losses they do not seem to feel, they have gained self-respect, independence, and the allure of the open horizon. "the vision of america," a friend writes, "is the vision of the lifting up of the millions." this, i believe, is true, and it is america's great contribution to civilisation. i do not forget it; but neither shall i dwell upon it; for though it is, i suppose, the most important thing about america, it is not what i come across in my own experience. what strikes more often and more directly home to me is the other fact that america, if she is not burdened by masses lying below the average, is also not inspired by an élite rising above it. her distinction is the absence of distinction. no wonder walt whitman sang the "divine average." there was nothing else in america for him to sing. but he should not have called it divine; he should have called it "human, all too human." or _is_ it divine? divine somehow in its potentialities? divine to a deeper vision than mine? i was writing this at brooklyn, in a room that looks across the east river to new york. and after putting down those words, "human, all too human," i stepped out on to the terrace. across the gulf before me went shooting forward and back interminable rows of fiery shuttles; and on its surface seemed to float blazing basilicas. beyond rose into the darkness a dazzling tower of light, dusking and shimmering, primrose and green, up to a diadem of gold. about it hung galaxies and constellations, outshining the firmament of stars; and all the air was full of strange voices, more than human, ingeminating babylonian oracles out of the bosom of night. this is new york. this it is that the average man has done, he knows not why; this is the symbol of his work, so much more than himself, so much more than what seems to be itself in the common light of day. america does not know what she is doing, neither do i know, nor any man. but the impulse that drives her, so mean and poor to the critic's eye, has perhaps more significance in the eye of god; and the optimism of this continent, so seeming-frivolous, is justified, may be, by reason lying beyond its ken. ii a continent of pioneers the american, i said, in the previous letter, is the average western man. it should be added, he is the average man in the guise of pioneer. much that surprises or shocks europeans in the american character is to be explained, i believe, by this fact. among pioneers the individual is everything and the society nothing. every man relies on himself and on his personal relations. he is a friend, and an enemy; he is never a citizen. justice, order, respect for law, honesty even and honour are to him mere abstract names; what is real is intelligence and force, the service done or the injury inflicted, the direct emotional reaction to persons and deeds. and still, as it seems to the foreign observer, even in the long-settled east, still more in the west, this attitude prevails. to the american politician or business man, that a thing is right or wrong, legal or illegal, seems a pale and irrelevant consideration. the real question is, will it pay? will it please theophilus p. polk or vex harriman q. kunz? if it is illegal, will it be detected? if detected, will it be prosecuted? what are our resources for evading or defeating the law? and all this with good temper and good conscience. what stands in the way, says the pioneer, must be swept out of it; no matter whether it be the moral or the civil law, a public authority or a rival in business. "the strong business man" has no use for scruples. public or social considerations do not appeal to him. or if they do present themselves, he satisfies himself with the belief that, from activities so strenuous and remarkable as his, good must result to the community. if he break the law, that is the fault of the law, for being stupid and obstructive; if he break individuals, that is their fault for being weak. _vae victis!_ never has that principle, or rather instinct, ruled more paramount than it does in america. to say this, is to say that american society is the most individualistic in the modern world. this follows naturally from the whole situation of the country. the pioneer has no object save to get rich; the government of pioneers has no object save to develop the country quickly. to this object everything is sacrificed, including the interests of future generations. all new countries have taken the most obvious and easy course. they have given away for nothing, or for a song, the whole of their natural resources to anybody who will undertake to exploit them. and those who have appropriated this wealth have judged it to be theirs by a kind of natural right. "these farms, mines, forests, oilsprings--of course they are ours. did not we discover them? did not we squat upon them? have we not 'mixed our labour with them'?" if pressed as to the claims of later comers they would probably reply that there remains "as much and as good" for others. and this of course is true for a time; but for a very short time, even when it is a continent that is being divided up. practically the whole territory of the united states is now in private ownership. still, the owners have made such good use of their opportunities that they have created innumerable opportunities for non-owners. artisans get good wages; lawyers make fortunes; stock and share holders get high dividends. every one feels that he is nourishing, and flourishing by his own efforts. he has no need to combine with his fellows; or, if he does combine, is ready to desert them in a moment when he sees his own individual chance. but this is only a phase; and inevitably, by the logic of events, there supervenes upon it another on which, it would appear, america is just now entering. with all her natural resources distributed among individuals or corporations, and with the tide of immigration unchecked, she begins to feel the first stress of the situation of which the tension in europe has already become almost intolerable. it is the situation which cannot fail to result from the system of private property and inheritance established throughout the western world. opportunities diminish, classes segregate. there arises a caste of wage-earners never to be anything but wage-earners; a caste of property-owners, handing on their property to their descendants; and substantially, after all deductions have been made for exaggeration and simplification, a division of society into capitalists and proletarians. american society is beginning to crystallise out into the forms of european society. for, once more, america is nothing new; she is a repetition of the old on a larger scale. and, curiously, she is less "new" than the other new countries. australia and new zealand for years past have been trying experiments in social policy; they are determined to do what they can to prevent the recurrence there of the european situation. but in america, there is no sign of such tendencies. the political and social philosophy of the united states is still that of the early english individualists. and, no doubt, there are adequate causes, if not good reasons for this. the immense wealth and size of the country, the huge agricultural population, the proportionally smaller aggregation in cities has maintained in the mass of the people what i have called the "pioneer" attitude. opportunity has been, and still is, more open than in any other country; and, in consequence, there has hardly emerged a definite "working class" with a class consciousness. this, however, is a condition that cannot be expected to continue. america will develop on the lines of europe, because she has european institutions; and "labour" will assert itself more and more as an independent factor in politics. whether it will assert itself successfully is another matter. at present, as is notorious, american politics are controlled by wealth, more completely, perhaps, than those of any other country, even of england. the "corporations" make it a main part of their business to capture congress, the legislatures, the courts and the city governments; and they are eminently successful. the smallest country town has its "boss," in the employ of the railway; the public service corporations control the cities; and the protected interests dominate the senate. business governs america; and business does not include labour. in no civilised country except japan is labour-legislation so undeveloped as in the states; in none is capital so uncontrolled; in none is justice so openly prostituted to wealth. america is the paradise of plutocracy; for the rich there enjoy not only a real power but a social prestige such as can hardly have been accorded to them even in the worst days of the roman empire. great fortunes and their owners are regarded with a respect as naïf and as intense as has ever been conceded to birth in europe. no american youth of ambition, i am told, leaves college with any less or greater purpose in his heart than that of emulating mr. carnegie or mr. rockefeller. and, on the other hand, it must be conceded, rich men feel an obligation to dispose of their wealth for public purposes, to a degree quite unknown in europe. by these lavish gifts the people are dazzled. they feel that the millionaire has paid his ransom; and are ready to forgive irregularities in the process of acquiring wealth when they are atoned for by such splendid penance. thus the rich man in america comes to assume the position of a kind of popular dictator. he is admired on account of his prowess and forgiven on account of his beneficence. and, since every one feels that one day he may have the chance of imitating him, no one judges him too severely. he is regarded not as the "exploiter," the man grown fat on the labour of others. rather he is the type, the genius of the american people; and they point to him with pride as "one of our strong men," "one of our conservative men of business." individualism, then, is stronger and deeper rooted in america than elsewhere. and, it must be added, socialism is weaker. it is an imported article, and it does not thrive on the new soil. the formulæ of marx are even less congenial to the american than to the english mind; and american conditions have not yet given rise to a native socialism, based on local conditions and adapted to local habits of thought. such a native socialism, i believe, is bound to come before long, perhaps is arising even now. but i would not hazard the assertion that it is likely to prevail. america, it would seem, stands at the parting of the ways. either she may develop on democratic lines; and democracy, as i think, demonstrably implies some kind of socialism. or she may fossilise in the form of her present plutocracy, and realise that new feudalism of industry which was dreamt of by saint-simon, by comte, and by carlyle. it would be a strange consummation, but stranger things have happened; and it seems more probable that this should happen in america than that it should happen in any european country. it is an error to think of america as democratic; her democracy is all on the surface. but in europe, democracy is penetrating deeper and deeper. and, in particular, there can be little doubt that england is now more democratic than the united states. iii niagara i shall not describe niagara; instead i shall repeat a conversation. after a day spent in visiting the falls and the rapids, i was sitting to-night on a bench on the river bank. the racing water-ridges glimmered faintly in the dusk and the roar of the falls droned in unwavering monotony. i fell, i think, into a kind of stupor; anyhow, i cannot remember when it was that some one took a seat beside me, and began to talk. i seemed to wake and feel him speaking; and the first remark i definitely heard was this: "all america is niagara." "all america is niagara," the voice repeated--i could see no face. "force without direction, noise without significance, speed without accomplishment. all day and all night the water rushes and roars. i sit and listen; and it does nothing. it is nature; and nature has no significance. it is we poets who create significance, and for that reason nature hates us. she is afraid of us, for she knows that we condemn her. we have standards before which she shrinks abashed. but she has her revenge; for poets are incarnate. she owns our bodies; and she hurls us down niagara with the rest, with the others that she loves, and that love her, the virile big-jawed men, trampling and trampled, hustling and hustled, working and asking no questions, falling as water and dispersing as spray. nature is force, loves force, wills force alone. she hates the intellect, she hates the soul, she hates the spirit. nietszche understood her aright, nietszche the arch-traitor, who spied on the enemy, learned her secrets, and then went over to her side. force rules the world." i must have said something banal about progress, for the voice broke out: "there is no progress! it is always the same river! new waves succeed for ever, but always in the old forms. history tells, from beginning to end, the same tale--the victory of the strong over the sensitive, of the active over the reflective, of intelligence over intellect. rome conquered greece, the germans the italians, the english the french, and now, the americans the world! what matters the form of the struggle, whether it be in arms or commerce, whether the victory go to the sword, or to shoddy, advertisement, and fraud? history is the perennial conquest of civilisation by barbarians. the little islands before us, lovely with trees and flowers, green oases in the rushing river, it is but a few years and they will be engulfed. so greece was swallowed up, so italy, and so will it be with england. not, as your moralists maintain, because of her vices, but because of her virtues. she is becoming just, scrupulous, humane, and therefore she is doomed. ignoble though she be, she is yet too noble to survive; for germany and america are baser than she. hark, hark to niagara! force, at all costs! do you hear it? do you see it? i can see it, though it is dark. it is a river of mouths and teeth, of greedy outstretched hands, of mirthless laughter, of tears and of blood. i am there, you are there; we are hurrying over the fall; we are going up in spray." "yes," i cried as one cries in a nightmare, "and in that spray hangs the rainbow." he caught at the phrase. "it is true. the rainbow hangs in the spray! it is the type of the ideal, hanging always above the actual, never in it, never controlling it. we poets make the rainbow; we do not shape the world." "we do not make the rainbow," i said. "the sun makes it, shining against it. what is the sun?" "the sun is the platonic good; it lights the world, but does not warm it. by its illumination we see the river in which we are involved; see and judge, and condemn, and are swept away. that we can condemn is our greatness; by that we are children of the sun. but our vision is never fruitful. the sun cannot breed out of matter; no, not even maggots by kissing carrion. between force and light, matter and good, there is no interchange. good is not a cause, it is only an idea." "to illuminate," i said, "is to transform." "no! it is only to reveal! light dances on the surface; but not the tiniest wave was ever dimpled or crisped by its rays. matter alone moves matter; and the world is matter. best not cry, best not even blaspheme. pass over the fall in silence. perhaps, at the bottom, there is oblivion. it is the best we can hope, we who see." and he was gone! had there been anyone? was there a real voice? i do not know. perhaps it was only the roar of niagara. when i returned to the hotel, i heard that this very afternoon, while i was sunning myself on one of the islands, a woman had thrown herself into the rapids and been swept over the fall. niagara took her, as it takes a stick or a stone. soon it will take the civilisation of america, as it has taken that of the indians. centuries will pass, millenniums will pass, mankind will have come and gone, and still the river will flow and the sun shine, and they will communicate to one another their stern immortal joy, in which there is no part for ephemeral men. iv "the modern pulpit" it is a bright july morning. as i sit in the garden i look out, over a tangle of wild roses, to a calm sea and a flock of white sails. everything invites to happy thought and innocent reverie. moreover, it is the day of rest, and every one is at leisure to turn his mind towards pleasant things. to what, in fact, are most people on this continent turning theirs? to this, which i hold in my hand, the sunday newspaper. let us analyse this production, peculiar to the new world. it comprises eight sections and eighty-eight pages, and very likely does really, as it boasts, contain "more reading matter than the whole bible." opening section , i read the following headings: "baron shot as bank-teller--ends life with bullet." "two fatally hurt in strike riots at pittsburg." "steals a look at busy burglars." "drowned in surf at narragansett." "four of a family fear a dogs' bite" (_sic_). "two are dead, two dying; fought over cow." section appears to be concerned with similar matter, for example: "struck by blast, woman is dying." "hard shell crabs help in giving burglar alarm." "man who has been married three times denies the existence of god." but here i notice further the interesting and enigmatic heading: "will 'boost' not 'knock' new york," and roused for the first time to something like curiosity, read: "to lock horns with the muckrakes and to defend new york against all who defame and censure it the association for new york was incorporated yesterday." i notice also "conferences agree to short rates on woollen goods," and am reminded of the shameless bargaining of which, for many weeks past, washington has been the centre; which leads me to reflect on the political advantages of a tariff and its wholesome effect on the national life. section deals with aviation and seaside resorts: "brave lake placid," i read, "planning new hotel." "haines falls entertaining a great throng of people." "resound with the laughter and shout of summer throngs." section consists entirely of advertisements: "tuning-up sale," i read. "buff-and-crimson cards will mark the trail of all goods ready for the sale. we are tuning up. by september it is our intention to have assembled in these two great buildings the most fashionable merchandise ever shown. no one piece of goods will be permitted to linger that lacks, in any detail, the æsthetic beauty demanded by new york women of fashion. everything will be better and a definite percentage lower in price than new york will find in any other store. do not expect a sale of ordinary proportions. to-morrow you will find the store alive with enthusiasm. this is not a summer hurrah." and so on, to the end of the page. twelve pages of advertisements, uninterrupted by any item of news. section is devoted to automobile gossip and automobile advertisements. thereupon follows the _special sporting section_: "rumsom freebooters defeat devon's first." "'young corbett' is chipped in the th." "doggett and cubs each win shut out." "brockett is easy for detroit nine." glancing at the small type i read:-- "englewood was the first to tally. this was in the fourth inning. w. merritt, the first man up, was safe on williams' error, and he got round to third on another miscue by williams. charley clough was on deck with a timely single, which scored merritt. curran's out at first put clough on third, from whence he tallied on cuming's single. cuming got to second, when wiley grounded out along the first base line and scored on reinmund's single. every other time reinmund came to the bat he struck out." i pass to the _magazine section_. on the first page is the mysterious heading "e. of k. and e." several huge portraits of a bald clean-shaven man in shirt sleeves partially explain. e. is mr. erlanger, a theatrical impresario, and k. and e. presumably is his firm. the article describes "the accomplishment of a busy man on one of his ordinary days," and makes one hope no day is ever extraordinary. the interviewer who tells about him is almost speechless with emotion. he searches for a phrase to express his feelings, finds it at last, and comes triumphantly to his close--mr. erlanger is a man "with trained arms, trained legs, a trained body and a trained mind." there follows: "the story of a society girl," in which we are told "there is a confession of love and the startling discovery that dolly was a professional model"; "the doctor's story," with a picture of a corpse, "whose white shapely hands were clasped one over the other"; and "would you convict on circumstantial evidence?--a scaffold confession. a true story." i glance at this, and read, "while the crowd watched in strained, breathless silence there came a sharp agonised voice and a commotion near the steps of the scaffold. 'stop! stop! the man is not guilty. i mean it. it is i who should stand there. let me speak.'" you can now reconstruct the story for yourself. next comes "get the man! craft and courage of old-time and modern express robbers matched by organised secret service and the mandate that makes capture alone the end of an unflagging man-hunt." this is accompanied by portraits of famous detectives and train-robbers. there follows "_thrilling lines_," with a picture of a man who seems to be looping the loop on a bicycle. and the conclusion of the section is a poem, entitled "cynthianna blythe," with coloured illustrations apparently intended for children, and certainly successful in not appealing to adults. comment, i suppose, is superfluous. but it is only fair to say that the whole of the press of america is not of this character. among the thousands of papers daily produced on that continent, it would be possible, i believe, to name ten--i myself could mention five--which contain in almost every issue some piece of information or comment which an intelligent man might care to peruse. there are to be found, now and again, passing references to european and even to asiatic politics; for it cannot be said that the press of america wholly ignored the recent revolutions in persia and in turkey. i myself saw a reference to the new sultan as a man "fat, but not fleshy." england looms big enough on the american horizon to be treated to an occasional gibe; and the doings of fashionable americans in london are reported somewhat fully. still, on the whole, the american daily press is typified by the specimen i have analysed. sensations, personalities and fiction are its stock-in-trade. why? the causes are well known, but are worth recapitulating, for they are part of the system of modern civilisation. the newspaper press is a business intended to make money. this is its primary aim, which may, or may not, include the subordinate purpose of advocating some line of public policy. now, to make money, it is essential to secure advertisements; and to secure advertisements it is essential to have a large circulation. but a large circulation can only be obtained by lowering the price of the paper, and adapting it to the leisure mood of the mass of people. but this leisure mood is usually one of sheer vacuity, incapable of intellectual effort or imaginative response. the man is there, waiting to be filled, and to be filled with the stuff easiest to digest. the rest follows. the newspapers supply the demand and by supplying extend and perpetuate it. among the possible appeals open to them they deliberately choose the lowest. for people are capable of good as well as of bad; and if they cannot get the bad they will sometimes take the good. newspapers, probably, could exist, even under democratic conditions, by maintaining a certain standard of intelligence and morals. but it is easier to exist on melodrama, fatuity and sport. and one or two papers adopting that course force the others into line; for here, as in so many departments of modern life, "the bad drives out the good." this process of deterioration of the press is proceeding rapidly in england, with the advent of the halfpenny newspaper. it has not gone so far as in america; but there is no reason why it should not, and every reason why it should; for the same causes are at work. i have called the process "deterioration," but that, of course, is matter of opinion. a cabinet minister, at a recent conference in london, is reported to have congratulated the press on its progressive improvement during recent years. and lord northcliffe is a peer. the more the english press approximates to the american, the more, it would seem, it may hope for public esteem and honour. and that is natural, for the american method pays. well, the sun still shines and the sky is still blue. but between it and the american people stretches a veil of printed paper. curious! the fathers of this nation read nothing but the bible. that too, it may be said, was a veil; but a veil woven of apocalyptic visions, of lightning and storm, of leviathan, and the wrath of jehovah. what is the stuff of the modern veil, we have seen. and surely the contrast is calculated to evoke curious reflections. v in the rockies walking alone in the mountains to-day i came suddenly upon the railway. there was a little shanty of a station feet above the sea; and, beyond, the great expanse of the plains. it was beginning to sleet, and i determined to take shelter. the click of a telegraph operator told me there was some one inside the shed. i knocked and knocked again, in vain; and it was a quarter of an hour before the door was opened by a thin, yellow-faced youth chewing gum, who looked at me without a sign of recognition or a word of greeting. i have learnt by this time that absence of manners in an american is intended to signify not surliness but independence, so i asked to be allowed to enter. he admitted me, and resumed his operations. i listened to the clicking, while the sleet fell faster and the evening began to close in. what messages were they, i wondered, that were passing across the mountains? i connected them, idly enough, with the corner in wheat a famous speculator was endeavouring to establish in chicago; and reflected upon the disproportion between the achievements of man and the use he puts them to. he invents wireless telegraphy, and the ships call to one another day and night, to tell the name of the latest winner. he is inventing the flying-machine, and he will use it to advertise pills and drop bombs. and here, he has exterminated the indians, and carried his lines and his poles across the mountains, that a gambler may fill his pockets by starving a continent. "click--click--click--pick--pick--pick--pock--pock--pockets." so the west called to the east, and the east to the west, while the winds roared, and the sleet fell, over the solitary mountains and the desolate iron road. it was too late now for me to reach my hotel that evening, and i was obliged to beg a night's rest. the yellow youth assented, with his air of elaborate indifference, and proceeded to make me as comfortable as he could. about sunset, the storm passed away over the plains. behind its flying fringes shot the last rays of the sun; and for a moment the prairie sea was all bared to view, as wide as the sky, as calm and as profound, a thousand miles of grass where men and cattle crept like flies, and towns and houses were swallowed and lost in the infinite monotony. we had supper and then my host began to talk. he was a democrat, and we discussed the coming presidential election. from one newspaper topic to another we passed to the talk about signalling to mars. signalling interested the youth; he knew all about that; but he knew nothing about mars, or the stars. these were now shining bright above us; and i told him what i knew of suns and planets, of double stars, of the moons, of jupiter, of nebulae and the galaxy, and the infinity of space, and of worlds. he chewed and meditated, and presently remarked: "gee! i guess then it doesn't matter two cents after all who gets elected president!" whereupon we turned in, he to sleep and i to lie awake, for i was disturbed by the mystery of the stars. it is long since the notion of infinite space and infinite worlds has impressed my imagination with anything but discomfort and terror. the ptolemaic scheme was better suited to human needs. our religious sense demands not only order but significance; a world not merely great, but relevant to our destinies. copernicus, it is true, gave us liberty and space; but he bereft us of security and intimacy. and i thought of the great vision of dante, so terrible and yet so beautiful, so human through and through,--that vision which, if it contracts space, expands the fate of man, and relates him to the sun and the moon and the stars. i thought of him as he crossed the apennines by night, or heard from the sea at sunset the tinkling of the curfew bell, or paced in storm the forest of ravenna, always, beyond and behind the urgency of business, the chances of war, the bitterness of exile, aware of the march of the sun about the earth, of its station in the zodiac, of the solemn and intricate wheeling of the spheres. aware, too, of the inner life of those bright luminaries, the dance and song of spirits purged by fire, the glow of mars, the milky crystal of the moon, and jupiter's intolerable blaze; and beyond these, kindling these, setting them their orbits and their order, by attraction not of gravitation, but of love, the ultimate essence, imaged by purest light and hottest fire, whereby all things and all creatures move in their courses and their fates, to whom they tend and in whom they rest. and i recalled the passage: "frate, la nostra volontà quieta virtù di carità, che fa volerne sol quel ch'avemo, e d'altro non ci asseta. se disiassimo esser più superne, fôran discordi gli nostri disiri dal voler di colui che qui ne cerne; che vedrai non capere in questi giri, s'essere in caritate è qui necesse, e se la sua natura ben rimiri; anzi è formale ad esto beato esse tenersi dentro alia divina voglia, perch'una fansi nostre voglie stesse. si che, come noi siam di soglia in soglia per questo regno, a tutto il regno piace, com'allo re, che in suo voler ne invoglia. e la sua volontade è nostra pace: ella è quel mare al qual tutto si muove cio ch' ella crea o che natura face."[ ] and then, with a leap, i was back to what we call reality--to the clicking needle, to the corner in wheat, to chicago and pittsburg and new york. in all this continent, i thought, in all the western world, there is not a human soul whose will seeks any peace at all, least of all the peace of god. all move, but about no centre; they move on, to more power, to more wealth, to more motion. there is not one of them who conceives that he has a place, if only he could find it, a rank and order fitted to his nature, higher than some, lower than others, but right, and the only right for him, his true position in the cosmic scheme, his ultimate relation to the power whence it proceeds. life, like astronomy, has become copernican. it has no centre, no significance, or, if any, one beyond our ken. gravitation drives us, not love. we are attracted and repelled by a force we cannot control, a force that resides in our muscles and our nerves, not in our will and spirit. "click--click--click--tick--tick--tick," so goes the economic clock. and that clock, with its silly face, has shut us out from the stars. it tells us the time; but behind the dial of the hours is now for us no vision of the solemn wheeling spheres, of spirit flames and that ultimate point of light "pinnacled dim in the intense inane." "america is a clock," i said; and then i remembered the phrase, "america is niagara." and like a flake of foam, dizzy and lost, i was swept away, out into the infinite, out into unconsciousness. the sun was shining brightly when i woke, and i had slept away my mood of the night. i took leave of my host, and under his directions, after half a mile along the line, plunged down into a gorge, and followed for miles, crossing and re-crossing, a mountain brook, between cliffs of red rocks, by fields of mauve anemones, in the shadow and fragrance of pines; till suddenly, after hours of rough going, i was confronted by a notice, set up, apparently, in the desert: "keep out. avoid trouble. this means you." i laughed. "keep out!" i said. "if only there were a chance of my getting in!" "avoid trouble! ah, what trouble would i not face, could i but get in!" and i went on, but not in, and met no trouble, and returned to the hotel, and had dinner, and watched for a solitary hour, in the hall, the shifting interminable array of vacant eyes and blank faces, and then retired to write this letter; "and so to bed." footnotes: [footnote : "brother, the quality of love stilleth our will, and maketh us long only for what we have, and giveth us no other thirst, "did we desire to be more aloft, our longings were discordant from his will who here assorteth us, "and for that, thou wilt see, there is no room within these circles, if of necessity we have our being here in love, and if thou think again what is love's nature. "nay, 'tis the essence of this blessed being to hold ourselves within the divine will, whereby our own wills are themselves made one. "so that our being thus, from threshold unto threshold, throughout the realm, is a joy to all the realm as to the king, who draweth our wills to what he willeth; "and his will is our peace; it is that sea to which all moves that it createth and that nature maketh." dante, _purgatorio_, iii. - (trans. by rev. philip h. wicksteed, in the "temple classics" edition).] vi in the adirondacks for the last few days i have been living in camp on a mountain lake in the adirondacks. all about me are mountains and unlumbered forest. the tree lies where it falls; the undergrowth chokes the trails; and on the hottest day it is cool in the green, sun-chequered wilderness. deer start in the thickets or steal down to drink in the lake. the only sounds are the wood-pecker's scream, the song of the hermit-thrush, the thrumming and drumming of bull-frogs in the water. my friend is a sportsman; i am not; and while he catches trout i have been reading homer and shelley. shelley i have always understood; but now, for the first time, i seem to understand homer. our guide here, i feel, might have been homer, if he had had imagination; but he could never have been shelley. homer, i conceive, had from the first the normal bent for action. what his fellows did he too wanted to do. he learned to hunt, to sail a boat, to build a house, to use a spear and bow. he had his initiation early, in conflict, in danger, and in death. he loved the feast, the dance, and the song. but also he had dreams. he used to sit alone and think. and, as he grew, these moods grew, till he came to live a second life, a kind of double of the first. the one was direct, unreflective, and purposeful. in it he hunted wild beasts that he might kill them, fought battles that he might win them, sailed boats that he might arrive somewhere. so far, he was like his fellows, and like our guide, with his quick observation, his varied experience, his practical skill. but then, on the other hand, he had imagination. this active life he reproduced; not by recapitulating it--that the guide can do; but by recreating it. he detached it, as it were, from himself as centre; ceased, indeed, to be a self; and became all that he contemplated--the victor and the vanquished, the hunter and the hunted, the house and its builder, thersites and achilles. he became the sun and the moon and the stars, the gods and the laughter of the gods. he took no sides, pronounced no judgment, espoused no cause. he became pure vision; but not passive vision. to see, he had to re-create; and the material his observation had amassed he offered up as a holocaust on the altar of his imagination. fused in that fierce fire, like drew to like, parts ran together and formed a whole. did he see a warrior fall? in a moment the image arose of "a stately poplar falling by the axe in a meadow by the riverside." did a host move out to meet the foe? it recalled the ocean shore where "wave follows wave far out at sea until they break in thunder on the beach." was battle engaged? "the clash of the weapons rang like the din of woodcutters in the mountain-glades." did a wounded hero fall? the combatants gathered about him "like flies buzzing round the brimming milk-pails in the spring." all commonest things, redeemed from isolation and irrelevance, revealed the significance with which they were charged. the result was the actual made real, a reflexion which was a disclosure, a reproduction which was a recreation. and if experience, as we know it, is the last word of life, if there is nothing beyond and nothing behind, if there is no meaning, no explanation, no purpose or end, then the poetry of homer is the highest reach of human achievement. for, observe, homer is not a critic. his vision transmutes life, but does not transcend it. experience is ultimate; all the poet does is to experience fully. common men live, but do not realise life; he realises it. but he does not question it; it is there and it is final; glorious, lovely, august, terrible, sordid, cruel, unjust. and the partial, smiling, unmoved, unaccountable olympians are the symbol of its brute actuality. not only is there no explanation, there is not even a question to be asked. so it is, so it has been, so it will be. homer's outlook is that of the modern realist. that he wrote an epic, and they novels, is an accident of time and space. turgeneff or balzac writing years before christ would have been homer; and homer, writing now, would have been turgeneff or balzac. but shelley could never have been homer; for he was born a critic and a rebel. from the first dawn of consciousness he challenged and defied the works and ways of men and the apparent order of the universe. never for a moment anywhere was he at home in the world. there was nothing attainable he cared to pursue, nothing actual he cared to represent. he could no more see what is called fact than he could act upon it. his eyes were dazzled by a different vision. life and the world not only are intolerable to him, they are unreal. beyond and behind lies reality, and it is good. now it is a perfectibility lying in the future; now a perfection existing eternally. in any case, whatever it be, however and wherever to be found, it is the sole object of his quest and of his song. whatever of good or lovely or passionate gleams here and there, on the surface or in the depths of the actual, is a ray of that sun, an image of that beauty. his imagination is kindled by appearance only to soar away from it. the landscape he depicts is all light, all fountains and caverns. the beings with which it is peopled are discarnate joys and hopes; justice and liberty, peace and love and truth. among these only is he at home; in the world of men he is an alien captive; and human life presents itself as an "unquiet dream." "'tis we that, lost in stormy visions, keep with phantoms an unprofitable strife, and in mad trance strike with our spirit's knife invulnerable nothings." when we die, we awake into reality--that reality to which, from the beginning, shelley was consecrated: "i vowed that i would dedicate my powers to thee and thine--have i not kept my vow?" he calls it "intellectual beauty"; he impersonates it as asia, and sings it in verse that passes beyond sense into music: "life of life! thy lips enkindle with their love the breath between them; and thy smiles before they dwindle make the cold air fire; then screen them in those looks, where whoso gazes faints, entangled in their mazes. child of light! thy limbs are burning through the vest which seems to hide them; as the radiant lines of morning through the clouds ere they divide them; and this atmosphere divinest shrouds thee wheresoe'er thou shinest. fair are others; none beholds thee, but thy voice sounds low and tender like the fairest, for it folds thee from the sight, that liquid splendour, and all feel, yet see thee never, as i feel now, lost for ever! lamp of earth! where'er thou movest its dim shapes are clad with brightness, and the souls of whom thou lovest walk upon the winds with lightness, till they fail, as i am failing, dizzy, lost, yet unbewailing!" this we call poetry; and we call the iliad poetry. but the likeness is superficial, and the difference profound. was it homer or shelley that grasped reality? this is not a question of literary excellence; it is a question of the sense of life. and--oddly enough--it is a question to which the intellect has no answer. the life in each of us takes hold of it and answers it empirically. the normal man is homeric, though he is not aware of the fact. especially is the american homeric; naïf, spontaneous, at home with fact, implicitly denying the beyond. is he right? this whole continent, the prairies, the mountains and the coast, the trams and trolleys, the sky-scrapers, the factories, elevators, automobiles, shout to that question one long deafening yes. but there is another country that speaks a different tongue. before america was, india is. vii the religion of business in the house in which i am staying hangs an old coloured print, representing two couples, one young and lusty, the other decrepit, the woman carrying an hour-glass, the man leaning on a stick; and underneath, the following inscription: "my father and mother that go so stuping to your grave, pray tell me what good i may in this world expect to have?" "my son, the good you can expect is all forlorn, men doe not gather grapes from of a thorn." this dialogue, i sometimes think, symbolises the attitude of the new world to the old, and the old to the new. not seldom i feel among americans as the egyptian is said to have felt among the greeks, that i am moving in a world of precocious and inexperienced children, bearing on my own shoulders the weight of the centuries. yet it is not exactly that americans strike one as young in spirit; rather they strike one as undeveloped. it is as though they had never faced life and asked themselves what it is; as though they were so occupied in running that it has never occurred to them to inquire where they started and whither they are going. they seem to be always doing and never experiencing. a dimension of life, one would say, is lacking, and they live in a plane instead of in a solid. that missing dimension i shall call religion. not that americans do not, for aught i know, "believe" as much as or more than europeans; but they appear neither to believe nor to disbelieve religiously. that, i admit, is true almost everywhere of the mass of the people. but even in europe--and far more in india--there has always been, and still is, a minority who open windows to the stars; and through these windows, in passing, the plain man sometimes looks. the impression america makes on me is that the windows are blocked up. it has become incredible that this continent was colonised by the pilgrim fathers. that intense, narrow, unlovely but genuine spiritual life has been transformed into industrial energy; and this energy, in its new form, the churches, oddly enough, are endeavouring to recapture and use to drive their machines. religion is becoming a department of practical business. the churches--orthodox and unorthodox, old and new, christian, christian-scientific, theosophic, higher-thinking--vie with one another in advertising goods which are all material benefits: "follow me, and you will get rich," "follow me, and you will get well," "follow me, and you will be cheerful, prosperous, successful." religion in america is nothing if not practical. it does not concern itself with a life beyond; it gives you here and now what you want. "what _do_ you want? money? come along!--success? this is the shop!--health? here you are! better than patent medicines!" the only part of the gospels one would suppose that interests the modern american is the miracles; for the miracles really did _do_ something. as for the sermon on the mount--well, no westerner ever took that seriously. this conversion of religion into business is interesting enough. but even more striking is what looks like a conversion of business into religion. business is so serious that it sometimes assumes the shrill tone of a revivalist propaganda. there has recently been brought to my attention a circular addressed to the agents of an insurance society, urging them to rally round the firm, with a special effort, in what i can only call a "mission-month." i quote--with apologies to the unknown author--part of this production: the call to action. "how about these beautiful spring days for hustling? everything is on the move. new life and force is apparent everywhere. the man who can stand still when all creation is on the move is literally and hopelessly a dead one. "these are ideal days for the insurance field-man. weather like this has a tremendously favourable effect on business. in the city and small town alike there is a genuine revival of business. the farmer, the merchant, the manufacturer, are beginning to work overtime. spring is in the footstep of the ambitious man as well as in the onward march of nature. this is the day of growth, expansion, creation, and re-creation. "consciously or unconsciously every one responds to the glad call to new life and vigour. men who are cold and selfish, who are literally frozen up the winter through, yield to the warm, invigorating, energising touch of spring. "gentlemen of the field force, now is the psychological moment to force your prospects to action as indicated by the dotted line. as in nature, some plants and trees are harder to force than others, so in the nature of human prospects, some are more difficult than others. sunshine and rain will produce results in the field of life-underwriting. "will it not be possible for you during these five remaining days not only to increase the production from regular sources, but to go out into the highways and hedges and compel others to sign their applications, if for only a small amount? "everything is now in full swing, and we are going to close up the month "in a blaze of glory." might not this almost as well have been an address from the headquarters of the salvation army? and is not the following exactly parallel to a denunciation, from the mission-pulpit, of the unprofitable servant? "a few days ago we heard of a general agent who has one of the largest and most prosperous territories in this country. he has been in the business for years, and yet that man, for some unknown reason, rather apologises for his vocation. he said he was a little ashamed of his calling. such a condition is almost a crime, and i am sure that the men of the eastern department will say, that man ought to get out of the business. "_instead of being ashamed of his calling, he should be mortally ashamed of his not calling._ "are you happy in your work? if not, give it up and go into some business more to your liking." why is it? "so many times the question is asked, 'why is it, and how is it, that mr. so-and-so writes so much business? there is not a week but he procures new applications.' gentlemen, there's but one answer to this question. there is a great gulf between the man who is in earnest and works persistently every day and the man who seems to be in earnest and makes believe he is working persistently every day. "one of the most successful personal producers said to the writer the other day: 'no wonder certain agents do not write more business. i couldn't accomplish very much either if i did not work longer hours than they do. some insurance agents live like millionaires and keep bankers' hours. you cannot expect much business from efforts like that.' this man speaks from practical knowledge of the business. he has written $ , _in personal business in the last six weeks_. "it does seem rather strange, sometimes, that half of the men in the eastern department should be writing twice as much business as the other half. they are representing the same company; presenting the same propositions; are supposed to be talking to practically the same number of men; have the same rates, same guarantees, and the same twenty-four hours in each day, and yet are doing twice the business. in other words, making more money. what really makes this difference? i will tell you. they put heart into their work. there is an enthusiasm and earnestness about them that carries conviction. they are business through and through, and everybody knows it. "are you getting your share of applications? if some other agent is up early, wide-awake and alert, putting in from ten to fifteen hours per day, he is bound to do business, isn't he? this is a plain, every-day horse-sense business fact. no one has a patent on time or the use of it. to work and to succeed is common property. it is your capital, and the use of it will determine your worth." i think, really, this is one of the most remarkable documents that could be produced in evidence of the character of american civilisation. there is all the push, initiative, and enterprise on which they justly pride themselves; there is also the reduction of all values to terms of business, the concentration of what, at other times, have been moral and religious forces upon the one aim of material progress. in such an atmosphere it is easy to see how those who care for spiritual values are led to protest that these are really material; to pack up their goods, so to speak, as if they were biscuits or pork, and palm them off in that guise on an unsuspecting public. in a world where every one is hustling, the churches feel they must hustle too; when all the firms advertise, they must advertise too; when only one thing is valued, power, they must pretend they can offer power; they must go into business, because business is going into religion! it is a curious spectacle! how long will it last? how real is it, even now? that withered couple, i half believe, hanging on the wall, descend at night and wander through the land, whispering to all the sleepers their disquieting warning; and all day long there hovers at the back of the minds of these active men a sense of discomfort which, if it became articulate, might express itself in the ancient words: "my son, the good you can expect is all forlorn, men doe not gather grapes from of a thorn." viii red-bloods and "mollycoddles" i am staying at a pleasant place in new hampshire. the country is hilly and wooded, like a larger and wilder surrey; and through it flows what, to an englishman, seems a large river, the connecticut. charming villas are dotted about, well designed and secluded in pretty gardens. i mention this because, in my experience of america, it is unique. almost everywhere the houses stare blankly at one another and at the public roads, ugly, unsheltered, and unashamed, as much as to say, "every one is welcome to see what goes on here. we court publicity. see how we eat, drink, and sleep. our private life is the property of the american people." it was not, however, to describe the country that i began this letter, but to elaborate a generalisation developed by my host and myself as a kind of self-protection against the gospel of "strenuousness." we have divided men into red-bloods and mollycoddles. "a red-blood man" is a phrase which explains itself, "mollycoddle" is its opposite. we have adopted it from a famous speech of mr. roosevelt, and redeemed it--perverted it, if you will--to other uses. a few examples will make the notion clear. shakespeare's henry v. is a typical red-blood; so was bismarck; so was palmerston; so is almost any business man. on the other hand, typical mollycoddles were socrates, voltaire, and shelley. the terms, you will observe, are comprehensive, and the types very broad. generally speaking, men of action are red-bloods. not but what the mollycoddle may act, and act efficiently. but, if so, he acts from principle, not from the instinct of action. the red-blood, on the other hand, acts as the stone falls, and does indiscriminately anything that comes to hand. it is thus he that carries on the business of the world. he steps without reflection into the first place offered him and goes to work like a machine. the ideals and standards of his family, his class, his city, his country and his age, he swallows as naturally as he swallows food and drink. he is therefore always "in the swim"; and he is bound to "arrive," because he has set before himself the attainable. you will find him everywhere in all the prominent positions. in a military age he is a soldier, in a commercial age a business man. he hates his enemies, and he may love his friends; but he does not require friends to love. a wife and children he does require, for the instinct to propagate the race is as strong in him as all other instincts. his domestic life, however, is not always happy; for he can seldom understand his wife. this is part of his general incapacity to understand any point of view but his own. he is incapable of an idea and contemptuous of a principle. he is the samson, the blind force, dearest to nature of her children. he neither looks back nor looks ahead. he lives in present action. and when he can no longer act, he loses his reason for existence. the red-blood is happiest if he dies in the prime of life; otherwise, he may easily end with suicide. for he has no inner life; and when the outer life fails, he can only fail with it. the instinct that animated him being dead, he dies too. nature, who has blown through him, blows elsewhere. his stops are dumb; he is dead wood on the shore. the mollycoddle, on the other hand, is all inner life. he may indeed act, as i said, but he acts, so to speak, by accident; just as the red-blood may reflect, but reflects by accident. the mollycoddle in action is the crank: it is he who accomplishes reforms; who abolished slavery, for example, and revolutionised prisons and lunatic asylums. still, primarily, the mollycoddle is a critic, not a man of action. he challenges all standards and all facts. if an institution is established, that is a reason why he will not accept it; if an idea is current, that is a reason why he should repudiate it. he questions everything, including life and the universe. and for that reason nature hates him. on the red-blood she heaps her favours; she gives him a good digestion, a clear complexion, and sound nerves. but to the mollycoddle she apportions dyspepsia and black bile. in the universe and in society the mollycoddle is "out of it" as inevitably as the red-blood is "in it." at school, he is a "smug" or a "swat," while the red-blood is captain of the eleven. at college, he is an "intellectual," while the red-blood is in the "best set." in the world, he courts failure while the red-blood achieves success. the red-blood sees nothing; but the mollycoddle sees through everything. the red-blood joins societies; the mollycoddle is a non-joiner. individualist of individualists, he can only stand alone, while the red-blood requires the support of a crowd. the mollycoddle engenders ideas, and the red-blood exploits them. the mollycoddle discovers, and the red-blood invents. the whole structure of civilisation rests on foundations laid by mollycoddles; but all the building is done by red-bloods. the red-blood despises the mollycoddle; but, in the long run, he does what the mollycoddle tells him. the mollycoddle also despises the red-blood, but he cannot do without him. each thinks he is master of the other, and, in a sense, each is right. in his lifetime the mollycoddle may be the slave of the red-blood; but after his death, he is his master, though the red-blood know it not. nations, like men, may be classified roughly as red-blood and mollycoddle. to the latter class belong clearly the ancient greeks, the italians, the french, and probably the russians; to the former the romans, the germans, and the english. but the red-blood nation _par excellence_ is the american; so that, in comparison with them, europe as a whole might almost be called mollycoddle. this characteristic of americans is reflected in the predominant physical type,--the great jaw and chin, the huge teeth, and predatory mouth; in their speech, where beauty and distinction are sacrificed to force; in their need to live and feel and act in masses. to be born a mollycoddle in america is to be born to a hard fate. you must either emigrate or succumb. this, at least, hitherto has been the alternative practised. whether a mollycoddle will ever be produced strong enough to breathe the american atmosphere and live, is a crucial question for the future. it is the question whether america will ever be civilised. for civilisation, you will have perceived, depends on a just balance of red-bloods and mollycoddles. without the red-blood there would be no life at all, no stuff, so to speak, for the mollycoddle to work upon; without the mollycoddle, the stuff would remain shapeless and chaotic. the red-blood is the matter, the mollycoddle the form; the red-blood the dough, the mollycoddle the yeast. on these two poles turns the orb of human society. and if, at this point, you choose to say that poles are points and have no dimensions, that strictly neither the mollycoddle nor the red-blood exist, and that real men contain elements of both mixed in different proportions, i have no quarrel with you except such as one has with the man who states the obvious. i am satisfied to have distinguished the ideal extremes between which the actual vibrates. the detailed application of the conception i must leave to more patient researchers. one point more before i close. this dichotomy, so far as i can see, applies only to man. woman appears to be a kind of hybrid. regarded as a creature of instinct, she resembles the red-blood, and it is to him that she is first attracted. the hero of her youth is the athlete, the soldier, the successful man of business; and this predilection of hers accounts for much of human history, and in particular for the maintenance of the military spirit. on the other hand, as a creature capable of and craving sympathy, she has affinities with the mollycoddle. this dual nature is the tragedy of her life. the red-blood awakens her passion, but cannot satisfy it. he wins her by his virility, but cannot retain her by his perception. hence the fact, noted by a cynic, that it is the mollycoddle who cuckolds the red-blood. for the woman, married to the red-blood, discovers too late that she is to him only a trophy, a scalp. he hangs her up in the hall, and goes about his business. then comes the mollycoddle, divining all, possessing and offering all. and if the red-blood is an american, and the mollycoddle an european, then the situation is tense indeed. for the american red-blood despises woman in his heart as profoundly as he respects her in outer observance. he despises her because of the mollycoddle he divines in her. therefore he never understands her; and that is why european mollycoddles carry off american women before the very eyes of the exasperated red-blood. "am i not clean?" he cries. "am i not healthy? am i not athletic and efficient?" he is, but it does not help him, except with young girls. he may win the body; but he cannot win the soul. can it be true then that most women would like two husbands, one red-blood, the other mollycoddle, one to be the father of their children, the other to be the companion of their souls? women alone can answer; and, for the first time in history, they are beginning to be articulate. ix advertisement the last two days and nights i spent in a railway train. we passed through some beautiful country; that, i believe, is the fact; but my feeling is that i have emerged from a nightmare. in my mind is a jumbled vision of huge wooden cows cut out in profile and offering from dry udders a fibrous milk; of tins of biscuits portrayed with a ghastly realism of perspective, and mendaciously screaming that i needed them--u-need-a biscuit; of gigantic quakers, multiplied as in an interminable series of mirrors and offering me a myriad meals of indigestible oats; of huge painted bulls in a kind of discontinuous frieze bellowing to the heavens a challenge to produce a better tobacco than theirs; of the head of a gentleman, with pink cheeks and a black moustache, recurring, like a decimal, _ad infinitum_ on the top of a board, to inform me that his beauty is the product of his own toilet powder; of cod-fish without bones--"the kind you have always bought"; of bacon packed in glass jars; of whiz suspenders, sen-sen throat-ease, sure-fit hose, and the whole army of patent medicines. by river, wood, and meadow, hamlet or city, mountain or plain, hovers and flits this obscene host; never to be escaped from, never to be forgotten, fixing, with inexorable determination, a fancy that might be tempted to roam to that one fundamental fact of life, the operation of the bowels. nor, of course, are these incubi, these ghostly emanations of the one god trade, confined to the american continent. they haunt with equal pertinacity the lovelier landscapes of england; they line the route to venice; they squat on the alps and float on the rhine; they are beginning to occupy the very air, and with the advent of the air-ship, will obliterate the moon and the stars, and scatter over every lonely moor and solitary mountain peak memorials of the stomach, of the liver and the lungs. never, in effect, says modern business to the soul of man, never and nowhere shall you forget that you are nothing but a body; that you require to eat, to salivate, to digest, to evacuate; that you are liable to arthritis, blood-poisoning, catarrh, colitis, calvity, constipation, consumption, diarrhoea, diabetes, dysmenorrhoea, epilepsy, eczema, fatty degeneration, gout, goitre, gastritis, headache, hæmorrhage, hysteria, hypertrophy, idiocy, indigestion, jaundice, lockjaw, melancholia, neuralgia, ophthalmia, phthisis, quinsey, rheumatism, rickets, sciatica, syphilis, tonsilitis, tic doloureux, and so on to the end of the alphabet and back again to the beginning. never and nowhere shall you forget that you are a trading animal, buying in the cheapest and selling in the dearest market. never shall you forget that nothing matters--nothing in the whole universe--except the maintenance and extension of industry; that beauty, peace, harmony are not commercial values, and cannot be allowed for a moment to stand in the way of the advance of trade; that nothing, in short, matters except wealth, and that there is no wealth except money in the pocket. this--did it ever occur to you--is the real public education every country is giving, on every hoarding and sky-sign, to its citizens of every age, at every moment of their lives. and that being so, is it not a little ironical that children should be taught for half an hour in school to read a poem of wordsworth or a play of shakespeare, when for the rest of the twenty-four hours there is being photographed on their minds the ubiquitous literature of owbridge and of carter? but of course advertisement cannot be interfered with! it is the life-blood of the nation. all traders, all politicians, all journalists say so. they sometimes add that it is really, to an unprejudiced spirit, beautiful and elevating. thus only this morning i came across an article in a leading new york newspaper, which remarks that: "the individual advertisement is commonly in good taste, both in legend and in illustration. many are positively beautiful; and, as a wit has truly said, the cereal advertisements in the magazines are far more interesting than the serial stories." this latter statement i can easily believe; but when i read the former there flitted across my mind a picture of a lady lightly clad reclining asleep against an open window, a full moon rising in the distance over a lake, with the legend attached, "cascarella--it works while you sleep." the article from which i have quoted is interesting not only as illustrating the diversity of taste, but as indicating the high degree of development which has now been attained by what is at once the art and the science of advertisement. "the study of advertisement," it begins, "seems to have a perennial charm for the american public. hardly a month passes but some magazine finds a new and inviting phase of this modern art to lay before its readers. the solid literature of advertisement is also growing rapidly.... the technique of the subject is almost as extensive as that of scientific agriculture. whole volumes have been compiled on the art of writing advertisements. commercial schools and colleges devote courses of study to the subject. indeed the corner-stone of the curriculum of a well-known business college is an elective upon 'window-dressing.'" that you may be under no misapprehension, i must add that this article appears in what is admittedly the most serious and respectable of the new york newspapers; and that it is not conceived in the spirit of irony or hyperbole. to the american, advertisement is a serious, important, and elevating department of business, and those who make it their speciality endeavour to base their operations on a profound study of human nature. one of these gentlemen has expounded, in a book which has a wide circulation, the whole philosophy of his liberal profession. he calls the book "imagination in business";[ ] and i remark incidentally that the use of the word "imagination," like that of "art," in this connection, shows where the inquirer ought to look for the manifestation, on this continent, of the æsthetic spirit. "the imaginative man," says the writer, "sends his thought through all the instincts, passions, and prejudices of men, he knows their desires and their regrets, he knows every human weakness and its sure decoy." it is this latter clause that is relevant to his theme. poets in earlier ages wrote epics and dramas, they celebrated the strength and nobility of men; but the poet of the modern world "cleverly builds on the frailties of mankind." of these the chief is "the inability to throw away an element of value, even though it cannot be utilised." on this great principle is constructed the whole art and science of advertisement. and my author proceeds to give a series of illustrations, "each of which is an actual fact, either in my experience, or of which i have been cognisant." space and copyright forbid me to quote. i must refer the reader to the original source. nowhere else will be found so lucid an expression of the whole theory and practice of modern trade. that theory and practice is being taught in schools of commerce throughout the union; and there are many, i suppose, who would like to see it taught in english universities. but, really, does anyone--does any man of business--think it a better education than greek? footnotes: [footnote : _imagination in business_ (harper & brothers).] x culture scene, a club in a canadian city; persons, a professor, a doctor, a business man, and a traveller (myself). wine, cigars, anecdotes; and suddenly, popping up, like a jack-in-the-box absurdly crowned with ivy, the intolerable subject of education. i do not remember how it began; but i know there came a point at which, before i knew where i was, i found myself being assailed on the subject of oxford and cambridge. not, however, in the way you may anticipate. those ancient seats of learning were not denounced as fossilised, effete, and corrupt. on the contrary, i was pressed, urged, implored almost with tears in the eye--to reform them? no! to let them alone! "for heaven's sake, keep them as they are! you don't know what you've got, and what you might lose! we know! we've had to do without it! and we know that without it everything else is of no avail. we bluster and brag about education on this side of the atlantic. but in our heart of hearts we know that we have missed the one thing needful, and that you, over in england, have got it." "and that one thing?" "is culture! yes, in spite of matthew arnold, culture, and culture, and always culture!" "meaning by culture?" "meaning aristotle instead of agriculture, homer instead of hygiene, shakespeare instead of the stock exchange, bacon instead of banking, plato instead of pædagogics! meaning intellect before intelligence, thought before dexterity, discovery before invention! meaning the only thing that is really practical, ideas; and the only thing that is really human, the humanities!" rather apologetically, i began to explain. at oxford, i said, no doubt the humanities still hold the first place. but at cambridge they have long been relegated to the second or the third. there we have schools of natural science, of economics, of engineering, of agriculture. we have even a training college in pædagogics. their faces fell, and they renewed their passionate appeal. "stop it," they cried. "for heaven's sake, stop it! in all those things we've got you skinned alive over here! if you want agriculture go to wisconsin! if you want medicine, go to the rockefeller institute! if you want engineering, go to pittsburg! but preserve still for the english-speaking world what you alone can give! preserve liberal culture! preserve the classics! preserve mathematics! preserve the seed-ground of all practical inventions and appliances! preserve the integrity of the human mind!" interesting, is it not? these gentlemen, no doubt, were not typical canadians. but they were not the least intelligent men i have met on this continent. and when they had finally landed me in my sleeping-berth in the train, and i was left to my own reflections in that most uncomfortable of all situations, i began to consider how odd it was that in matters educational we are always endeavouring to reform the only part of our system that excites the admiration of foreigners. i do not intend, however, to plunge into that controversy. the point that interests me is the view of my canadian friends that in america there is no "culture." and, in the sense they gave to that term, i think they are right. there _is_ no culture in america. there is instruction; there is research; there is technical and professional training; there is specialisation in science and industry; there is every possible application of life, to purposes and ends; but there is no life for its own sake. let me illustrate. it is, i have read, a maxim of american business that "a man is damned who knows two things." "he is almost a dilettante," it was said of a student, "he reads dante and shakespeare"! "the perfect professor," said a college president, "should be willing to work hard eleven months in the year." these are straws, if you like, but they show the way the wind blows. again, you will find, if you travel long in america, that you are suffering from a kind of atrophy. you will not, at first, realise what it means. but suddenly it will flash upon you that you are suffering from lack of conversation. you do not converse; you cannot; you can only talk. it is the rarest thing to meet a man who, when a subject is started, is willing or able to follow it out into its ramifications, to play with it, to embroider it with pathos or with wit, to penetrate to its roots, to trace its connexions and affinities. question and answer, anecdote and jest are the staple of american conversation; and, above all, information. they have a hunger for positive facts. and you may hear them hour after hour rehearsing to one another their travels, their business transactions, their experiences in trains, in hotels, on steamers, till you begin to feel you have no alternatives before you but murder or suicide. an american, broadly speaking, never detaches himself from experience. his mind is embedded in it; it moves wedged in fact. his only escape is into humour; and even his humour is but a formula of exaggeration. it implies no imagination, no real envisaging of its object. it does not illuminate a subject, it extinguishes it, clamping upon every topic the same grotesque mould. that is why it does not really much amuse the english. for the english are accustomed to shakespeare, and to the london cabby. this may serve to indicate what i mean by lack of culture. i admit, of course, that neither are the english cultured. but they have culture among them. they do not, of course, value it; the americans, for aught i know, value it more; but they produce it, and the americans do not. i have visited many of their colleges and universities, and everywhere, except perhaps at harvard--unless my impressions are very much at fault--i have found the same atmosphere. it is the atmosphere known as the "yale spirit," and it is very like that of an english public school. it is virile, athletic, gregarious, all-penetrating, all-embracing. it turns out the whole university to sing rhythmic songs and shout rhythmic cries at football matches. it praises action and sniffs at speculation. it exalts morals and depresses intellect. it suspects the solitary person, the dreamer, the loafer, the poet, the prig. this atmosphere, of course, exists in english universities. it is imported there from the public schools. but it is not all-pervading. individuals and cliques escape. and it is those who escape that acquire culture. in america, no one escapes, or they are too few to count. i know americans of culture, know and love them; but i feel them to be lost in the sea of philistinism. they cannot draw together, as in england, and leaven the lump. the lump is bigger, and they are fewer. all the more honour to them; and all the more loss to america. whether, from all this, any conclusion is to be drawn about the proper policy to be pursued at our universities, is a question i will not here discuss. culture, i think, is one of those precious things that are achieved by accident, and by accident may be destroyed. the things we do to maintain it might kill it; the things we do to kill it might preserve it. my canadian friends may be quite wrong in their diagnosis of the causes that engender or destroy it. but they are right in their sense of its importance; and it will be an interesting result of imperial unity if we find, to our astonishment, that the dominions beyond the seas rally round exactly those things in england which we expect them to declare effete. the rhodes scholars go to oxford, not to birmingham or liverpool. and it is cambridge that peoples the universities of the empire with professors. xi antÆus i saw to-day some really remarkable landscapes by an american artist. so, at least, they seem to me. they have, at any rate, a quality of imagination which one does not expect to find in this country. "one does not expect"--why not? why, in this respect, is america, as undoubtedly she is, so sterile? artists must be born here as much as elsewhere. american civilisation, it is true, repels men of reflection and sensitiveness, just as it attracts men of action; so that, as far as immigration is concerned, there is probably a selection working against the artistic type. but, on the other hand, men of action often produce sons with a genius for the arts; and it is to be supposed that they do so as much in america as elsewhere. it must be the environment that is unfavourable. artists and poets belong to the genus i have named "mollycoddle"; and in america the mollycoddle is hardly allowed to breathe. nowhere on that continent, so far as i have been able to see, is there to be found a class or a clique of men, respected by others and respecting themselves, who also respect not merely art but the artistic calling. broadly, business is the only respectable pursuit; including under business politics and law, which in this country are only departments of business. business holds the place in popular esteem that is held by arms in germany, by letters in france, by public life in england. the man therefore whose bent is towards the arts meets no encouragement; he meets everywhere the reverse. his father, his uncles, his brothers, his cousins, all are in business. business is the only virile pursuit for people of education and means, who cannot well become chauffeurs. there is, no doubt, the professorial career; but that, it is agreed, is adopted only by men of "no ambition." americans believe in education, but they do not believe in educators. there is no money to be made in that profession, and the making of money is the test of character. the born poet or artist is thus handicapped to a point which may easily discourage him from running at all. at the best, he emigrates to europe, and his achievement is credited to that continent. or, remaining in america, he succumbs to the environment, puts aside his creative ambition, and enters business. it is not for nothing that americans are the most active people in the world. they pay the penalty in an atrophy of the faculties of reflection and representation. things are different in europe, and even in england. there, not only are artists and men of letters honoured when they are successful--they are, of course, honoured at that stage in america; but the pursuit of literature and art is one which a young man need not feel it discreditable to adopt. the contemporaries of a brilliant youth at oxford or at cambridge do not secretly despise him if he declines to enter business. the first-class man does not normally aspire to start life as a drummer. public life and the church offer honourable careers; and both of them have traditional affinities with literature. so has the law, still in england a profession and not a trade. one may even be a don or a schoolmaster without serious discredit. under these conditions a young man can escape from the stifling pressure of the business point of view. he can find societies like-minded with himself, equally indifferent to the ideal of success in business, equally inspired by intellectual or æsthetic ambitions. he can choose to be poor without feeling that he will therefore become despicable. the attitude of the business classes in england, no doubt, is much the same as that of the business classes in america. but in england there are other classes and other traditions, havens of refuge from the prevalent commercialism. in america the trade-wind blows broad, steady, universal over the length and breadth of the continent. this, i believe, is one reason for the sterility of america in art. but it is not the only one. literature and art in europe rest on a long tradition which has not only produced books and pictures, but has left its mark on the language, the manners, the ideas, the architecture, the physical features of the country. the books and the pictures can be transplanted, but the rest cannot. thus, even though in every art the technical tradition has been interrupted, there remains in europe what i will call the tradition of feeling; and it is this that is absent in america. art in europe is rooted; and there still persists into the present something of the spirit which fostered it in the past. not only is nature beautiful, she is humanised by the works of man. politics are mellowed by history, business tempered by culture. classes are more segregated, types more distinct, ideals and aims more varied. the ghost of a spiritual life still hovers over the natural, shadowing it with the beat of solemn wings. there are finer overtones for a sensitive ear to catch; rainbow hues where the spray of life goes up. all this, it is true, is disappearing in europe; but in america it has never existed. a sensitive european, travelling there, feels at once starved and flayed. nothing nourishes, and everything hurts. there is natural beauty, but it has not been crowned and perfected by the hand of man. whatever he has touched he has touched only to defile. there is one pursuit, commerce; one type, the business man; one ideal, that of increasing wealth. monotony of talk, monotony of ideas, monotony of aim, monotony of outlook on the world. america is industrialism pure and simple; europe is industrialism superimposed on feudalism; and, for the arts, the difference is vital. but the difference is disappearing. not that america is becoming like europe, but europe is becoming like america. this is not a case of the imitation that is a form of flattery; it is a case of similar causes producing similar results. the disease--or shall we say, to use a neutral term--the diathesis of commercialism found in america an open field and swept through it like a fire. in europe, its course was hampered by the structures of an earlier civilisation. but it is spreading none the less surely. and the question arises--in the future, when the european environment is as unfavourable to art as the american, will there be, in the west, any art at all? i do not know; no one knows; but there is this to remark. what i am calling commercialism is the infancy, not the maturity of a civilisation. the revolution in morals, in manners, and in political and social institutions which must accompany the revolution in industry, has hardly yet begun its course. it has gone further in europe than in america; so that, oddly enough, europe is at once behind and in front of this continent, overlaps it, so to speak, at both ends. but it has not gone very far even in europe; and for generations, i conceive, political and social issues will draw away much of the creative talent that might have been available for art. in the end, one may suppose, something like a stable order will arise; an order, that is, in which people will feel that their institutions correspond sufficiently with their inner life, and will be able to devote themselves with a free mind to reflecting their civilisation in art. but will their civilisation be of a kind to invite such reflection? it will be, if the present movement is not altogether abortive, a civilisation of security, equity, and peace; where there is no indigence, no war, and comparatively little disease. such society, certainly, will not offer a field for much of the kind of art that has been or is now being produced. the primitive folk-song, the epic of war, the novel or play inspired by social strife, will have passed irrecoverably away. and more than that, it is sometimes urged, there will be such a dearth of those tense moments which alone engender the artistic mood, that art of any kind will have become impossible. if that were true, it would not, in my opinion, condemn the society. art is important, but there are things more important; and among those things are justice and peace. i do not, however, accept the view that a peaceable and just society would necessarily also be one that is uninspired. that view seems to me to proceed from our incurable materialism. we think there is no conflict except with arms; no rivalry except for bread; no aspiration except for money and rank. it is my own belief that the removal of the causes of the material strife in which most men are now plunged would liberate the energies for spiritual conflict; that the passion to know, the passion to feel, the passion to love, would begin at last to take their proper place in human life; and would engender the forms of art appropriate to their expression. to return to america, what i am driving at is this. america may have an art, and a great art. but it will be after she has had her social revolution. her art has first to touch ground; and before it can do that, the ground must be fit for it to touch. it was not till the tenth century that the seed of mediæval art could be sown; it was not till the thirteenth that the flower bloomed. so now, our civilisation is not ripe for its own art. what america imports from europe is useless to her. it is torn from its roots; and it is idle to replant it; it will not grow. there must be a native growth, not so much of america, as of the modern era. that growth america, like europe, must will. she has her prophet of it, walt whitman. in the coming centuries it is her work to make his vision real. concluding essay the preceding pages were written in the course of travel and convey the impressions and reflections of the moment. whatever interest they may have depends upon this immediacy, and for that reason i have reprinted them substantially as they first appeared. perhaps, however, some concluding reflections of a more considered nature may be of some interest to my readers. i do not advance them in a dogmatic spirit nor as final judgments, but as the first tentative results of my gropings into a large and complicated subject. i will ask the reader, therefore, be he western or oriental, to follow me in a spirit at once critical and sympathetic, challenging my suggestions as much as he will, but rather as a fellow-seeker than as an opponent bent upon refutation. for i am trying to comprehend rather than to judge, and to comprehend as impartially as is compatible with having an attitude of one's own at all. ever since mr. rudyard kipling wrote a famous line it has become a commonplace of popular thought in england and america that there is an east and a west, and an impassable gulf between them. but mr. kipling was thinking of india, and india is not all the east: he was thinking of england, and england is not all the west. as soon as one approaches the question more particularly it becomes a complicated matter to decide whether there is really an east and a west, and what either stands for. that there is a west, in a real sense, with a unity of its own, is, i think, true. but it must be limited in time to the last two centuries, and in space to the countries of western europe and the continent of america. so understood, the west forms, in all the most important respects, a homogeneous system. true, it is divided into different nations, speaking different languages, and pursuing different, and often conflicting, policies; and these distinctions are still so important, that they colour our fears and hopes and sympathies, and take form in the burden of armaments and the menace of war. nevertheless, seen in the perspective of history, they are survivals, atrophying and disappearing. behind and despite of them there is a common western mind and a common western organisation. finance is cosmopolitan; industry is cosmopolitan; trade is cosmopolitan. there is one scientific method, and the results achieved by it are common. there is one system of industry, that known as capitalism; and the problems arising from it and the solutions propounded appear alike in every nation. there is one political tendency, or fact, that of popular government. there are cognate aims and similar achievements in literature and art. there is, in brief, a western movement, a western problem, a western mentality; and the particular happenings of particular nations are all parts of this one happening. nor is this all. there is in the west a common religion. i do not refer to christianity, for the religion i mean is held by hundreds and thousands who are not christians, and indeed does not very readily find in christianity an expression at once coherent and pure. it has not been formulated in a creed; but it is to be felt and heard in all the serious work and all the serious thought of the west. it is the religion of good and evil, of time and the process in time. if it tried to draw up a confession of faith perhaps it would produce, as its first attempt, something of this kind:-- "i believe in the ultimate distinction between good and evil, and in a real process in a real time. i believe it to be my duty to increase good and diminish evil; i believe that in doing this i am serving the purpose of the world. i know this; i do not know anything else; and i am reluctant to put questions to which i have no answer, and to which i do not believe that anyone has an answer. action, as defined above, is my creed. speculation weakens action. i do not wish to speculate, i wish to live. and i believe the true life to be the life i have described." in saying that this is the real creed of the modern western man i do not pretend that he always knows or would admit it to be so. but if his actions, his words, and his thoughts be sympathetically interpreted, where all are at their best, i think they will be found to imply something of this kind. and this attitude i call religious, not merely ethical, because of its conviction that the impulse towards good is of the essence of the world, not only of men, or of man. to believe this is an act of faith, not of reason; though it is not contrary to reason, as no faith should be or long can be. many men do _not_ believe it, for many are not religious; others, while believing it, may believe also many other things. but it is the irreducible minimum of religion in the modern west, the justification of our life, the faith of our works. i call it the religion of time, and distinguish it thus from the religion of eternity. in this sense, then, this profound sense, of a common aim and a common motive, there is really a west. is there also an east? that is not so clear. in some important respects, no doubt, the eastern civilisations are alike. they are still predominantly agricultural. their industry is manual not mechanical. their social unit is the extended family. to travel in the east is to realise that life on the soil and in the village is there still the normal life, as it has been almost everywhere and always, throughout civilisation, until the last century in the west. but though there is thus in the east a common way of life, there is not a common organisation nor a common spirit. economically, the great eastern countries are still independent of one another. each lives for the most part by and on itself. and their intellectual and spiritual intercourse is now (though it was not in the past) as negligible as their economic commerce. the influence that is beginning to be strong upon them all is that of western culture; and if they become alike in their outlook on life, it will be by assimilating that. but, at present, they are not alike. it is easy, in this matter, to be deceived by the outward forms of religion. because buddhism originated in india and spread to china and japan, because japan took confucian ideals from china, it is natural to conclude that there is a common religious spirit throughout the east, or the far east. but one might as reasonably infer that the spirit of the christianised teutons was the same as that of the jews or of the christians in the east. nations borrow religions, but they shape them according to their own genius. and if i am not very much mistaken the outlook of india is, and always has been, radically distinct from and even opposed to that of china or japan. these latter countries, indeed, i believe, are far closer to the west than they are to india. let me explain. india is the true origin and home of what i have called the religion of eternity. that idea seems to have gone out from her to the rest of the world. but nowhere else was it received with equal purity and passion. elsewhere than in india the claims of time were predominant. in india they have been subordinate. this, no doubt, is a matter of emphasis. no society, as a whole, could believe and act upon the belief that activity in time is simply waste of time, and absorption in the eternal the direct and immediate object of life. such a view, acted upon, would bring the society quickly to an end. it would mean that the very physical instinct to live was extinguished. but, as the eternal was first conceived by the amazing originality of india, so the passion to realise it here and now has been the motive of her saints from the date of the upanishads to the twentieth century. and the method of realisation proposed and attempted has not been the living of the temporal life in a particular spirit, it has been the transcending of it by a special experience. indian saints have always believed that by meditation and ascetic discipline, by abstaining from active life and all its claims, and cultivating solitude and mortification, they could reach by a direct experience union with the infinite. this is as true of the latest as of the earliest saints, if and so far as western influences have been excluded. let me illustrate from the words of sri ramakrishna, one of the most typical of indian saints, who died late in the nineteenth century. first, for the claim to pass directly into union with the eternal: "i do see that being as a reality before my very eyes! why then should i reason? i do actually see that it is the absolute who has become all these things about us; it is he who appears as the finite soul and the phenomenal world. one must have such an awakening of the spirit within to see this reality.... spiritual awakening must be followed by samadhi. in this state one forgets that one has a body; one loses all attachment to things of this world."[ ] and let it not be supposed that this state called samadhi is merely one of intense meditation. it is something much more abnormal, or super-normal, than this. the book from which i am quoting contains many accounts of its effects upon sri ramakrishna. here is one of them: "he is now in a state of samadhi, the superconscious or god-conscious state. the body is again motionless. the eyes are again fixed! the boys only a moment ago were laughing and making merry! now they all look grave. their eyes are steadfastly fixed on the master's face. they marvel at the wonderful change that has come over him. it takes him long to come back to the sense world. his limbs now begin to lose their stiffness. his face beams with smiles, the organs of sense begin to come back each to its own work. tears of joy stand at the corners of his eyes. he chants the sacred name of rama."[ ] the object, then, of this saint, and one he claims to have attained, is to come into union with the infinite by a process which removes him altogether from contact with this world and from all possibility of action in it. this world, in fact, is to him, as to all indian saints and most indian philosophers, phenomenal and unreal. of the speculative problems raised by this conception i need not speak here. but it belongs to my purpose to bring out its bearing upon conduct. all conduct depends upon the conception of good and evil. anti-moralists, like nietzsche, assume and require these ideas, just as much as moralists; they merely attempt to give them a new content. if conduct is to have any meaning, good and evil must be real in a real world. if they are held to be appearances conduct becomes absurd. what now is sri ramakrishna's view of this matter? the whole life that we western men call real is to him a mere game played by and for the sake of god, or, to use his phrase, of the divine mother. for her pleasure she keeps men bound to time, instead of free in eternity. for her pleasure, therefore, she creates and maintains evil. i quote the passage: "my divine mother is always in her sportive mood. the world, indeed, is her toy. she will have her own way. it is her pleasure to take out of the prisonhouse and set free only one or two among a hundred thousand of her children! "_a brahmo_: sir, she can if she pleases set everybody free. why is it then, that she has bound us hand and foot with the chains of the world? "_sri ramakrishna_: well, i suppose it is her pleasure. it is her pleasure to go on with her sport with all these beings that she has brought into existence. the player amongst the children that touches the person of the grand-dame, the same need no longer run about. he cannot take any further part in the exciting play of hide and seek that goes on. "the others who have not touched the goal must run about and play to the great delight of the grand-dame."[ ] thus the indian saint. let us now try to bring his conception into relation with what we in the west believe to be real experience. in a railway accident a driver is pinned against the furnace and slowly burned to death, praying the bystanders in vain to put him out of his misery. what is this? it is the sport of god! in putumayo innocent natives are deprived of their land, enslaved, tortured, and murdered, that shareholders in europe may receive high dividends. what is this? the sport of god! in the richest countries of the west a great proportion of those who produce the wealth receive less than the wages which would suffice to keep them in bare physical health. what is this? once more the sport of god! one might multiply examples, but it would be idle. no western man could for a moment entertain the view of sri ramakrishna. to him such a god would be a mere devil. the indian position, no doubt, is a form of idealism; but an idealism conditioned by defective experience of the life in time. the saint has chosen another experience. but clearly he has not transcended ours, he has simply left it out. now i am aware that it will be urged by some of the most sincere representatives of religion in india that sri ramakrishna does not typify the indian attitude. perhaps not, if we take contemporary india. but then contemporary india has been profoundly influenced by western thought; modern indians like raja ram mohan roy, keshub chunder sen, rabindranath tagore, could hardly have thought and felt as they did, and do, were it not for this influence. the following poem of rabindranath tagore may aptly symbolise this breaking in of the west upon the east, though i do not know that that was the author's intention: "with days of hard travail i raised a temple. it had no doors or windows, its walls were thickly built with massive stones. i forgot all else, i shunned all the world, i gazed in rapt contemplation at the image i had set upon the altar. it was always night inside, and lit by the lamps of perfumed oil. the ceaseless smoke of incense wound my heart in its heavy coils. sleepless, i carved on the walls fantastic figures in mazy bewildering lines--winged horses, flowers with human faces, women with limbs like serpents. no passage was left anywhere through which could enter the song of birds, the murmur of leaves, or the hum of the busy village. the only sound that echoed in its dark dome was that of incantations which i chanted. my mind became keen and still like a pointed flame, my senses swooned in ecstasy. i knew not how time passed till the thunderstone had struck the temple, and a pain stung me through the heart. the lamp looked pale and ashamed; the carvings on the walls, like chained dreams, stared meaningless in the light, as they would fain hide themselves. i looked at the image on the altar. i saw it smiling and alive with the living touch of god. the night i had imprisoned spread its wings and vanished."[ ] the closed temple, i believe, is a true image of the spiritual life of india, if not at all times, at any rate for many centuries previous to the advent of the english. everything seems to point to this--the symbolic character of indian art; the absence of history and the prevalence of religious legend; the cult of the fakir and the wandering ascetic. in india one feels religion as one feels it nowhere else, unless it were in russia. but the religion one feels is peculiar. it is the religion that denies the value of experience in time. it is the religion of the eternal. but, it will be urged, how can that be, when india continues to produce her teeming millions; when these perforce live their brief lives in a constant and often vain struggle for a bare livelihood; when, in order to live at all, it is necessary at every point to be straining vitality in the pursuit of temporal goods or the avoidance of temporal evils? i make no attempt to disguise or to weaken this paradox. but i suggest that it is but one of the many paradoxes set up by the conflict between men's instinct for life and their conscious beliefs. indians live not because they believe in life, but because they cannot help it. their hold on life is certainly less than that of western men. thus i have been told by administrators of famine relief or of precautions against plague, that what they have to contend with is not so much the resistance as the indifference of the population. "why worry us?" they say, in effect; "life is not worth the trouble. let us die and be rid of it." life is an evil, that is the root feeling of india; and the escape is either, for the mass, by death; or for the men of spiritual genius, by a flight to the eternal. how this attitude has arisen i do not here seek to determine; race, climate, social and political conditions, all no doubt have played their part. the spiritual attitude is probably an effect, rather than a cause, of an enfeebled grip on life. but no one, i think, who knows india, would dispute that this attitude is a fact; and it is a fact that distinguishes india not only from the west but from the far east. for china and japan, though they have had, and to a less extent still have, religion, are not, in the indian sense, religious. the chinese, in particular, strike one as secular and practical; quite as secular and practical as the english. they have had buddhism, as we have had christianity; but no one who can perceive and understand would say that their outlook is determined by buddhism, any more than ours is by christianity. it is confucianism that expresses the chinese attitude to life, whenever the chinese soul, becoming aware of itself, looks out from the forest of animistic beliefs in which the mass of the people wander. and confucianism is perhaps the best and purest expression of the practical reason that has ever been formulated. family duty, social duty, political duty, these are the things on which it lays stress. and when the chinese spirit seeks escape from these primary preoccupations, it finds its freedom in an art that is closer to the world of fact, imaginatively conceived, than that of any other race. chinese art purifies itself from symbolism to become interpretation; whereas in india the ocean of symbolism never ceases to roll over the drowning surface of the phenomenal world. chinese literature, again, has this same hold upon life. it is such as romans or englishmen, if equally gifted, might have written. much of it, indeed, is stupidly and tediously didactic. but where it escapes into poetry it is a poetry like wordsworth's, revealing the beauty of actual things, rather than weaving across them an embroidery of subjective emotions the outlook of china is essentially the outlook of the west, only more sane, more reasonable, more leisured and dignified. positivism and humanity, the dominant forms of thought and feeling in the west, have controlled chinese civilisation for centuries. the chinese have built differently from ourselves and on a smaller scale, with less violence and less power; but they have built on the same foundations. and japan, too, at bottom is secular. her true religion is that of the emperor and his divine ancestors. her strongest passion is patriotism. a japanese, like an indian, is always ready to die. but he dies for the splendours and glories of this world of sense. it is not because he has so little hold on life, but because he has so much, that he so readily throws it away. the japanese are unlike the chinese and unlike the europeans and americans; but their outlook is similar. they believe in the world of time and change; and because of this attitude, they and the rest of the world stand together like a mountain in the sun, contemplating uneasily that other mysterious peak, shrouded in mist, which is india. the reader by this time will have grasped the point i am trying to put. there are in man two religious impulses, or, if the expression be preferred, two aspects of the religious impulse. i have called them the religion of the eternal and the religion of time; and india i suggest stands pre-eminently for the one, the west for the other, while the other countries of the east rank rather with the west than with india. it is not necessary to my purpose to exaggerate this antithesis. i will say, if it be preferred, that in india the emphasis is on the eternal, in the west on time. but that much at least must be said and is plainly true. now, as between these two attitudes, i find myself quite clearly and definitely on the side of the west. i have said in the preceding pages hard things about western civilisation. i hate many of its manifestations, i am out of sympathy with many of its purposes. i can see no point, for instance, in the discovery of the north or the south pole, and very little in the invention of aeroplanes; while gramophones, machine guns, advertisements, cinematographs, submarines, dreadnoughts, cosmopolitan hotels, seem to me merely fatuous or sheerly disastrous. but what lies behind all this, the tenacity, the courage, the spirit of adventure, this it is that is the great contribution of the west. it is not the aeroplane that is valuable; probably it will never be anything but pernicious, for its main use is likely to be for war. but the fact that men so lightly risk their lives to perfect it, _that_ is valuable. the west is adventurous; and, what is more, it is adventurous on a quest. for behind and beyond all its fatuities, confusions, crimes, lies, as the justification of it all, that deep determination to secure a society more just and more humane which inspires all men and all movements that are worth considering at all, and, to those who can understand, gives greatness and significance even to some of our most reckless enterprises. we are living very "dangerously"; all the forces are loose, those of destruction as well as those of creation; but we are living towards something; we are living with the religion of time. so far, i daresay, most western men will agree with me in the main. but they may say, some of them, as the indian will certainly say, "is that all? have you no place for the eternal and the infinite?" to this i must reply that i think it clear and indisputable that the religion of the eternal, as interpreted by sri ramakrishna, is altogether incompatible with the religion of time. and the position of sri ramakrishna, i have urged, is that of most indian, and as i think, of most western mystics. not, however, of all, and not of all modern mystics, even in india. rabindranath tagore, for example, in his "sádhana," has put forward a mysticism which does, at least, endeavour to allow for and include what i have called the religion of time. to him, and to other mystics of real experience, i must leave the attempt to reconcile eternity and time. for my own part, i can only approach the question from the point of view of time, and endeavour to discover and realise the most that can be truly said by one who starts with the belief that that is real. the profoundest prophets of the religion of time are, in my judgment, goethe and george meredith; and from them, and from others, and from my own small experience, i seem to have learned this: the importance of that process in time in whose reality we believe does not lie merely in the bettering of the material and social environment, though we hold the importance of that to be great; it lies in the development of souls. and that development consists in a constant expansion of interest away from and beyond one's own immediate interests out into the activities of the world at large. such expansion may be pursued in practical life, in art, in science, in contemplation, so long as the contemplation is of the real processes of the real world in time. to that expansion i see no limit except death. and i do not know what comes after death. but i am clear that whatever comes after, the command of life is the same--to expand out of oneself into the life of the world. this command--i should rather say this impulse--seems to me absolute, the one certain thing on which everything else must build. i think it enough for religion, in the case at least of those who have got beyond the infant need for certitudes and dogmas. these perhaps are few; yet they may be really more numerous than appears. and on the increase in their numbers, and the intensity of their conviction and their life, the fate of the world seems to me to depend. footnotes: [footnote : _gospel of sri ramakrishna_, second edition, part ., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _gospel of sri ramakrishna_, second edition, part ., p. .] [footnote : _the gardener_, p. .] printed by ballantyne, hanson & co. at paul's work, edinburgh books on the east the civilisation of the east. by dr. fritz hommel. illustrations and map. pott vo, with frontispiece, s. net. _japan_--the life and thought of japan. by okakura-yoshisauro. illustrated. crown vo, s. d. net. _india_--the civilisation of india. by romesh c. dutt, c.i.e. illustrated. pott vo, with frontispiece, s. net. [_second edition_. the great epics of ancient india--ramayana: the epic of rama, prince of india; and maha-bharata: the epic of ancient india. condensed into english verse and edited by romesh dutt, c.i.e. with an introduction by the right hon. f. max mÜller. with photogravure illustrations by e. stuart hardy. square demy vo, £ , s. net. the message of zoroaster. by a. sorabjee n. wadia. crown vo, s. net. reflections on the problems of india. by a. s. wadia. crown vo, s. d. net. picturesque burmah, past and present. by mrs. ernest hart. with illustrations in photogravure, &c., also maps. super-royal vo, £ , s. net. religions of india: brahmanism and buddhism. by rev. allan menzies, d.d. square crown mo, d. net. buddhism and christianity. by annie h. small. s. net. islam and christianity. by annie h. small. s. net. the gods of india. by e. osborn martin. with illustrations from photographs specially taken. small crown vo, s. d. net. j. m. dent & sons, ltd., london transcriber's notes: pg. , added closing single quote mark for clarity. in this case it serves to close a quote within a quote. (speak.'" you can now) footnote , in the original text, the english translation of dante's poem did not preserve the line breaks in each stanza. the original appearance has been retained. footnote , the reference is given as dante's "purgatorio". in actual fact the lines of verse come from dante's "paradiso". the author's original text has been retained. pg. and , line of verse beginning "my son, the good you....". in the original text, the fifth word was an abbreviation comprising a "y" and a superscript "o". this is presumed to represent "you" and has been expanded as such for readability. pg. , "poeple" changed to "people". (property of the american poeple.) trade and travel in the far east; or recollections of twenty-one years passed in java, singapore, australia, and china. by g. f. davidson. london: madden and malcolm, leadenhall street. . london: printed by madden and malcolm, leadenhall street. preface. the following pages were written to beguile the tediousness of a long voyage from hong kong to england, during the spring and summer of . when i state, that the whole was written with the paper on my knee, for want of a desk, amid continual interruptions from three young children lacking amusement during their long confinement on ship-board, and with a perpetual liability to be pitched to leeward, paper and all,--i shall have said enough to bespeak from every good-natured reader a candid allowance for whatever defects may attach to the composition. it is necessary, however, that i should also premise, that the sketches are drawn entirely from memory, and that the incidents referred to in the earlier chapters, took place some twenty years ago. that my recollection may have proved treacherous on some minor points, is very possible; but, whatever may be the merits or demerits of the work in other respects, it contains, to the best of my knowledge and belief, nothing but truth in the strictest sense of that term; and, as imbodying the result of my own personal observations in the countries visited, it may possess an interest on that account, not always attaching to volumes of higher pretensions. my wanderings have been neither few nor short, and, perhaps, verify the old proverb, that a rolling stone gathers no moss. i have crossed the ocean in forty different square-rigged vessels; have trod the plains of hindostan, the wilds of sumatra, and the mountains of java; have strolled among the beautiful hills and dales of singapore and penang; have had many a gallop amid the forests and plains of australia; have passed through the labyrinth of reefs forming torres' straits; and have visited the far-famed celestial empire. my first idea, in endeavouring to retrace my journeyings and adventures, was, that the personal narrative might serve to amuse a circle of private friends. but the notices relating to the openings for trade in the far east, and to the subject of emigration, together with the free strictures upon the causes of the recent depression in our australian colonies, will, i venture to hope, be not unacceptable to those who are interested in the extension of british commerce, and in the well-being of the rising communities which form an integral part of the mighty empire now encircling the globe. some parts of the work refer to coming events as probable, which have since become matters of fact; but i have not deemed it necessary to suppress or to alter what i had written. i am more especially happy to find that my suggestions respecting borneo have, to some extent, been anticipated; and that the important discovery of its coal-mines has been taken advantage of by her majesty's government in the very way pointed out in observations written at sea fifteen months ago. since my arrival in england, i have learned also, that the feasibility of the navigation of torres' straits from west to east, has struck others more competent to form a correct judgment than myself. captain t. blackwood, commander of her majesty's ship, fly, at present employed in surveying the coast of new holland, the straits, and parts adjacent, has expressed his determination, after refitting at singapore, to endeavour to enter the pacific ocean, during the north-west monsoon, by sailing through torres' straits from the westward. i trust that this enterprising officer will succeed in the attempt, and thereby put beyond question the practicability of the passage; which would not only shorten the distance between australia and our indian territories, but contribute, more than any thing else could do, to facilitate the transit of the overland mail to sydney. the australians, i find, are still sanguinely bent upon discovering an overland route from the present frontiers of the colony to port essington; but, although i heartily wish them success, my opinion, as expressed in the subsequent pages, remains unaltered. i observe, that the singaporeans are already complaining of the decrease of the number of square-rigged vessels that have visited their port during the recent season, and of the falling-off of the chinese-junk trade, which they correctly attribute to the opening of the trade with china; thereby verifying my predictions. i fear that they will have still greater cause for complaint before twelve months shall have rolled away. but the merchants of singapore, it gives me pleasure to add, are taking advantage of the times, by entering upon the china trade, and seem determined not to suffer loss, if they can help it, by the effect of sir henry pottinger's famous treaty. this is as it should be. with these few remarks on the motives which have induced me to write and give to the world the following sketches, i now commit them to their fate; trusting that they may serve to beguile an hour, to some of my numerous friends in the different parts of the world they refer to, and that, to the reader unacquainted with those countries, they may prove both useful and entertaining. before taking leave of the reader, however, i must apologize for an unfortunate error my printer has fallen into, (at p. note), in misprinting the name of mr. mercus, one of the best men that ever ruled a colony, whether dutch or english. this name has been converted into minns; and the error was not detected, till the sheet had passed through the press. as for the critics.--for any kind or friendly remarks they may make, i shall feel grateful; while any of a contrary nature will neither surprise nor displease me. hull, _january _. contents. preface p. i chapter i. java. first impressions of batavia--narrow policy of the government--description of the town and neighbourhood--roads and posting system--state of society--climate and seasons--tropical fruits chapter ii. java. samarang--a tiger fight--java poneys--excursion to solo--wild sports--djockdjocarta--remains of the ancient palace--imperial elephants--experiment in indigo-planting--javanese execution--a pet boa--alligators--forest labour--slavery in java--opium-smoking--tea--the upas-tree chapter iii. singapore. advantageous position of singapore--cultivation of the nutmeg and cocoa-nut--roads and scenery-- motley population--european residents--chinese emigrants--klings--sampan-men--places of worship--tigers chapter iv. singapore. trade of singapore--chinese traders--bugis traders--siamese and cochin chinese--arab smugglers--borneo--trade with calcutta-- commercial prospects. chapter v. dutch settlements. dutch settlement of rhio--island of banca-- bencoolen--padang--chinese slave-trade--native tribes of sumatra--pepper trade chapter vi. malacca and penang chapter vii. calcutta. first view of calcutta--state of society-- mercantile changes--unpleasant climate--sights at and near calcutta--improvements in transit and navigation--custom-house nuisance--pilot service--character of the bengalees--river steamers chapter viii. new south wales. voyage from singapore to sydney--port jackson--first impressions produced by sydney--the public-house nuisance--sydney juries--cattle-dealers--town improvements--lawyers, doctors, and clergy chapter ix. new south wales. township of maitland--the paterson district--winter sports--the kangaroo--australian husbandry--convict servants--benefit of enforcing an observance of sunday--the hot season chapter x. new south wales. bush-rangers--the drought of - --the settler's troubles--ornithology of australia--aboriginal tribes chapter xi. new south wales. the hot winds--projected mail-road from sydney to port essington--sheep-farms--grazing in australia--horse-stock chapter xii. new south wales. causes of the recent distresses--conduct of the banks--mania for speculation--long-account system--bad seasons chapter xiii. new south wales. elements of prosperity still existing--hints to the colonists--future prospects chapter xiv. new south wales. classes of society in sydney--disappointment of emigrants--characteristics of irish and british emigrants--availableness of chinese labourers--australian coal monopoly--torres' straits the best passage for steamers--botany bay--passage from sydney to batavia chapter xv. china. description of macao--its mongrel population-- frequency of robberies--piracies--compradore system--papuan slave-trade--market of macao-- nuisances--sir henry pottinger's regulation defended--illiberal policy of the portuguese, and its result--boat-girls--beggars--picturesque scenery chapter xvi. china. advantageous position of hong kong--the opium trade--importance of the station in the event of a fresh war--chusan--how to raise a revenue-- causes of alleged insalubrity--rapid progress of the settlement--picturesque scenery-- markets--sanatory hints chapter xvii. china. first view of canton--description of the european quarter--hostile feelings of the people--commercial prospects of canton--amoy--foo chow--ningpo-- shang-hae--mr. medhurst--results of the treaty with china chapter xviii. necessity of appointing british consuls in the spanish and dutch colonies--new settlement on the western coast of borneo--important discovery of coal on the north-west coast--concluding remarks appendix i. plan for the acceleration of the china mails (_i. e._ their conveyance from _suez viâ ceylon_ to _hong kong direct_) appendix ii. memorandum on borneo, and mr. brook's settlement on that island trade and travel in the far east. chapter i. java. first impressions of batavia--narrow policy of the government--description of the town and neighbourhood--roads and posting system--state of society--climate and seasons--tropical fruits. early in the year , i left england, quite a youngster, full of life and spirits, bound for that so-called grave of europeans, batavia. of my passage out, i shall say nothing more, than that it lasted exactly five months, and was, in point of wind and weather, similar to nine-tenths of the voyages made to the same region. well do i remember the th of october , the day on which i first set foot on the lovely and magnificent island of java. how bright were then my prospects, surrounded as i was with a circle of anxious friends, who were not only able, but willing also, to lend me a helping hand, and who now, alas! are, to a man, gone from me and all to whom they were dear. i was then prepared--i might say determined--to be pleased with every thing and every body. at this distance of time, i can scarcely remember what struck me most forcibly on landing; but i have a vivid recollection of being perfectly delighted with the drive, in a light airy carriage drawn by two spirited little java poneys, from the wharf to the house of the friend with whom i was to take up my abode. the pluck with which those two little animals rattled us along quite astonished me; and the novel appearance of every thing that met the eye, so bewildered and delighted me, that i scarcely knew how to think, speak, or act. what a joyous place was batavia in those days, with every body thriving, and the whole town alive and bustling with an active set of merchants from all parts of the world! the dutch government, at that time, pursued a more liberal system than they have of late adopted; and, instead of monopolizing the produce of the island, sold it by public auction regularly every month. this plan naturally attracted purchasers from england, the continent of europe, and the united states of america, who brought with them good spanish dollars to pay for what they purchased; so that silver money was as plentiful in netherlands india, in those days, as copper doits have since become. the enlightened individual who now governs java[ ] and its dependencies, is, i have good reason to think, opposed to the monopolizing system pursued by his government: his hands, however, are tied, and he can only remonstrate, while the merchants can but pray that his remonstrances may be duly weighed by his superiors. java exports one million _peculs_[ ] of coffee per annum, one million _peculs_ of rice, and one million _peculs_ of sugar; besides vast quantities of tin, pepper, hides, indigo, &c. were its trade thrown open to fair competition, as formerly, it is as certain that his majesty the king of the netherlands would be a gainer, as that his adopting the more liberal system would give satisfaction to every mercantile man connected in any way with his east-indian possessions. the experience of the last three years ought to have taught his majesty this lesson; and we may hope he will take warning from the miserable result of his private speculations during that period. batavia is not the unhealthy place it has been usually deemed. the city itself is certainly bad enough; but no european sleeps a single night in it out of a twelvemonth. [footnote : . his excellency mr. minns, since dead.] [footnote : a _pecul_ is a chinese weight used all over the eastern archipelago, and is equal to - / lbs. avoirdupoise.] from four to five o'clock every evening, the road leading from the town to the suburbs is thronged with vehicles of all descriptions, conveying the merchants from their counting-houses to their country or suburban residences, where they remain till nine o'clock the next morning. these country residences are delightfully situated to the south of batavia, properly so called, extending inland over many square miles of country. every one of them has a garden (called here a compound) of considerable extent, well stocked with plants, shrubs, and trees, which serve to give them a lively and elegant appearance, and to keep them moderately cool in the hottest weather. servants' wages being very low here, every european of any respectability is enabled to keep up a sufficient establishment, and to repair to his office in his carriage or hooded gig, in which he may defy the sun. many of them, particularly dutchmen, have an imprudent practice of driving in an open carriage, with an umbrella held over their heads by a native servant standing on the foot-board behind his master. having resided several years in the suburbs of batavia, i have no hesitation in saying, that, with common prudence, eschewing _in toto_ the vile habit of drinking gin and water whenever one feels thirsty, living generously but carefully, avoiding the sun's rays by always using a close or hooded carriage, and taking common precautions against wet feet and damp clothing, a man may live--and enjoy life, too--in batavia, as long as he would in any other part of the world. many people may think this a bold assertion; nevertheless, i make it without fear of contradiction from any one acquainted by experience with the country. one great and invaluable advantage over all our eastern colonies, batavia, in common with every part of java, possesses, in the facilities that exist for travelling from one part of the island to another. throughout java, there are excellent roads, and on every road a post establishment is kept up; so that the traveller has only to apply to the post-master of batavia, pointing out the road he wishes to travel, and to pay his money according to the number of miles: he obtains, with a passport, an order for four horses all along his intended line of route, and may perform the journey at his leisure, the horses, coachmen, &c. being at his command night or day, till he accomplishes the distance agreed for. thus, a party going overland from batavia to samarang, a distance of three hundred miles, may either perform the journey in three days, or extend it to three weeks, should they wish to look about them, and to halt a day or two at various places as they go along. in no part of british india is there any thing approaching to such admirable and cheap facilities for travelling. and what an inestimable blessing they are to the batavian invalid, who can thus, in a few hours, be transported, with perfect ease and comfort, into the cool and delightful mountainous regions of java, where he may choose his climate, by fixing himself at a height varying from one thousand to seven thousand feet above the level of the sea! java, from east to west and from north to south, is a favourite region with me, and, i believe, with every englishman who ever visited it. gin and brandy have killed five-sixths of all the europeans who have died in batavia within the last twenty years; but with pleasure i can add, that this destructive habit has almost entirely disappeared: hence the diminished number of deaths, and the more robust and ruddy appearance of the european inhabitants. the surrounding country is both salubrious and beautiful, rising gradually as you proceed inland, till you reach buytenzorg, forty miles s.s.e. of batavia, where the governor-general of netherlands india generally resides, in a splendid palace, surrounded with extensive and magnificent gardens. the climate is cool and pleasant, more particularly in the mornings and evenings, and the ground is kept moist by daily showers; for it is a singular fact, that scarcely a day in the year passes without a shower in this beautiful neighbourhood. buytenzorg is a favourite resort of the merchants of batavia, who take advantage of the facilities for travelling to visit it on the saturday afternoon, remaining the whole of sunday, and returning to town, and to the renewal of their labours, on the following morning. the scenery is magnificent; and the view (well known to every visiter) from the back verandah of the inn, is the finest that can be imagined. standing on the steps of this verandah, you have, immediately under your foot, an extensive plain, thoroughly cultivated, sprinkled with villages, each village being surrounded with evergreen trees, and the whole almost encircled by a river. to the left of this valley rises an extensive and picturesque mountain, cultivated almost to the summit, and dotted here and there with villages and gentlemen's houses. looking into the valley at early morn, you will see the lazy buffalo, driven by an equally indolent ploughman, dragging a lilliputian plough through the slimy paddy-field; the lazy javanese labourer going to his work in the field; the native women reaping, with the hand only, and stalk by stalk, the ripe paddy (rice) in one field, while those in the next are sowing the seed; the adjoining fields being covered with stubble, their crops having been reaped weeks before. upon the declivity of the mountain is seen the stately coffee-tree, the plantations of which commence about feet above the level of the sea, and proceed up the hill till they reach the height of feet. nothing can be more beautiful than a full-grown coffee-plantation: the deep green foliage, the splendid bright-red berry, and the delicious shade afforded by the trees, render those spots altogether fit for princes; and princely lives their owners lead. one is always sure of a hearty welcome from these gentlemen, who are ever glad to see a stranger. they give him the best horse in the stable to ride, the best room in the house to occupy, and express regret when his visit is drawing to a close. i speak from experience, having put the hospitality of several of them to the test. during my first stay at batavia, from to , the celebrated java war broke out, the so-called rebel army being headed by a native chief of djockdjocarta, named diepo nogoro. shortly after the first outbreak, the then governor-general, baron vander capellen, called on all europeans between the ages of sixteen and forty-five to serve in the _schuttery_, or militia. an infantry and a cavalry corps were formed, and i joined the latter, preferring a ride in the evening to a walk with a fourteen-pound musket over my shoulder. after a probation of pretty tight drilling, we became tolerable soldiers, on "nothing a day and finding ourselves," and had the good town of batavia put under our charge, the regular troops being all sent away to the scene of war. as i do not intend to return to the subject, i may as well mention here, that the war lasted five years, and that it would have lasted five years longer, had diepo nogoro not been taken prisoner--i fear by treachery. i saw him landed at batavia, in , from the steamer which had brought him from samarang. the governor's carriage and aides-de-camp were at the wharf to receive him. in that carriage he was driven to gaol, whence he was banished no one knows whither; and he has never since been heard of. such is the usual fate of dutch prisoners of state! diepo nogoro deserved a better fate. he was a gallant soldier, and fought bravely. poor fellow! how his countenance fell--as well it might--when he saw where the carriage drew up! he stopped short on putting his foot on the pavement, evidently unwilling to enter the gloomy-looking pile; cast an eager glance around; and, seeing there was no chance of escape, walked in. several gentlemen followed, before the authorities had the door closed, and saw the fallen chief, with his _two wives_, consigned to two miserable-looking rooms. java has been quite tranquil ever since. the society of batavia, at the time i am referring to, was both choice and gay; and the influence of my good friends threw me at once into the midst of it. the dutch and english inhabitants did not then (nor do they now) mix together so much as would, in my opinion, have been agreeable and mutually advantageous. a certain jealousy kept the two parties too much apart. nevertheless, i have been present at many delightful parties in dutch families, the pleasures of which were not a little heightened by the presence of some ten or a dozen charming dutch girls. charming and beautiful they certainly are while young; but, ere they reach thirty, a marvellous change comes over their appearance: the fair-haired, blue-eyed, laughing romp of eighteen has, in that short period of ten or twelve years, become transformed into a stout and rather elderly-looking matron, as unlike an english woman of the same age as one can well fancy. when i look back on those gay and pleasant parties, and think how few of the individuals who composed them are now alive, the reflection makes me sad. what a different class its english inhabitants of the present day are from those of - ! i may be prejudiced in favour of the former state of society; but, in giving the preference to it, i shall be borne out by any of the few survivers who knew batavia at both periods. from to , the governor's parties were thronged with our countrymen and countrywomen. let any one enter his excellency's ball-room now-a-days, and he will not meet with more than one or two english of the old school, and not one of the new. the causes of this change are obvious: it arises from the different class of people that now come out from liverpool, manchester, and glasgow, compared with the british merchant of former times, and from the total deficiency of the most common civility, on the part of our countrymen, towards the many highly respectable, agreeable, and intelligent dutch families that form the society of the place. it is with pain i write this; but, as a citizen of the world, who has seen a good deal of life, in recording my sentiments on these matters, i cannot avoid telling the plain truth as it struck me from personal observation. the vicinity of batavia affords the most beautiful drives; and hundreds of vehicles, from the handsome carriage and four of the member of council to the humble buggy of the merchant's clerk, may be seen every evening, from five till half-past six, that being the coolest and best time for taking out-of-door exercise. the roads are excellent, lined on both sides with trees, which keep them shaded and cool nearly all day. the scene is altogether gay, and affords a gratifying indication of the wealth and importance of this fine colony. by seven o'clock, the drives are deserted; and, immediately afterwards, lights may be seen glittering in every dwelling in the neighbourhood, while, in every second or third house, the passer-by may observe parties of pleasure assembling for the evening. the dutch have adopted the social plan of exchanging friendly visits in the evening, avoiding our more formal ones of the morning. at these chance evening parties (if i may so term them), the company are entertained with music and cards, and other diversions; and should the visiter be too old to join the young folks in their gayety, he will find one or two of his own standing snugly seated in the far corner of the verandah, where he is sure to be supplied with a good cigar and the very best wine. these groupes are perfect pictures of comfort and content. with all his good qualities, however, "john dutchman" is jealous of "john bull," and cannot help shewing it, particularly in commercial matters. how short-sighted his policy is, in this point of view, it would be no difficult task to prove. the pleasantest months of the year, in batavia, are, june, july, and august, when the sun is to the northward. i have frequently found a blanket necessary at this season: indeed, the nights, throughout java, are generally sufficiently cool to allow the european to enjoy a refreshing sleep, after which he will find no difficulty in getting through a hot day. the public health is generally very good from may till september inclusive. in april and october, strangers, particularly the recently arrived european, are apt to suffer from colds and fever, caused, in a great measure, by the breaking-up of the monsoon, which takes place in those months. in november or december, the north-west monsoon brings on the rains, which certainly then come down in torrents, and render the city of batavia a perfect charnel-house for those poor natives and chinese who are unfortunately compelled to remain in it. i have seen it entirely flooded with water, to the depth of four or five feet in some parts. the malaria occasioned by the deposit of slimy mud left all over the town by the water, on its retiring, causes sad havoc among the poorer chinese and malays, who reside in the lowest parts of the town, and inhabit wretched hovels. these floods seldom annoy the inhabitants of the suburbs; yet i well remember, in the season of , a friend of mine lay down on a sofa and went to sleep, about eight o'clock in the evening: at three next morning, he awoke with the water just reaching his couch, much to his surprise and no small alarm, till, on becoming collected, he bethought him of the cause. the neighbouring river had risen, from mountain rains, whilst he was asleep, and had completely flooded his house, to the depth of eighteen inches, together with the garden and neighbourhood. i know no market, east of the cape of good hope, better supplied with fruit than that of batavia. among the choicest, i would name the mangistan, the durian, and the pumaloe or shaddock. the first is unknown beyond eight degrees from the equator, and is, perhaps, the best fruit with which nature has blessed the tropical regions. it is about the size of an orange, its rind of a dark purple, and its pulp divided into parts like the contents of an orange, as white as driven snow. its taste i cannot attempt to describe, knowing nothing to which i can compare it. the best quality of the mangistan is its perfect harmlessness. the patient suffering from fever, liver complaint, consumption, or any of the numerous ills that flesh is heir to, may, with perfect impunity, cool his parched tongue with a dozen of this delightful fruit; and no one who has not been laid on a sick bed within the tropics, can appreciate this blessing. the rind, when dried, and made into tea, is an excellent tonic, and is often successfully used in cases of dysentery, by native as well as european practitioners. the durian is a favourite fruit with most people who can overcome its smell, which certainly is no very easy matter. natives of all classes are passionately fond of this fruit, and almost subsist on it when in plenty. strange to say, goats, sheep, poultry, and even the royal tiger, eagerly devour the durian, of which i confess myself, notwithstanding the aforesaid smell, an admirer, in common with many of my countrymen. its size is that of a cocoa-nut, husk and all; its rind is very thick, of a pale green colour, and covered with strong sharp thorns; its interior is divided into compartments, each of which contains three or four seeds about the size of a pullet's egg; these seeds are covered, to the thickness of a quarter of an inch, with a pale yellow pulp, which is the part eaten. the taste resembles, according to the description of those who like the fruit, that of a very rich custard, and, according to those who have never succeeded in overcoming their antipathy to the smell, that of a mixture of decayed eggs and garlic. this fruit cannot be eaten in large quantities with impunity by europeans, being of a very heating nature. with me it never agreed; nor do i remember a single instance of its agreeing with my countrymen, when eaten freely. half a one is as much as most people can manage at a time. the durian seeds, when roasted, make an excellent substitute for chestnuts. the shaddock of java is a magnificent fruit, and surpasses those of any other country with which i am acquainted. in addition to these three prime fruits of java, i may mention the pine-apple, soursop, rambutan, rose-apple, guava, dookoo, and sixty different kinds of plantain and banana. these, and many others, thrive and abound on this favoured island. with poultry, butchers' meat, fish, and vegetables, batavia and java generally are abundantly supplied; while the residents on its mountains may enjoy strawberries and cream in perfection. chapter ii. java. samarang--a tiger fight--java poneys--excursion to solo--wild sports--djockdjocarta--remains of the ancient palace--imperial elephants--experiment in indigo-planting--javanese execution--a pet boa--alligators--forest labour--slavery in java--opium-smoking--tea--the upas-tree. between three and four hundred miles eastward of batavia, on the north coast of java, is the small, neat, old-fashioned town of samarang, which, when i visited it in , was the residence of several english merchants: now, there is only a single one remaining, so completely has monopoly destroyed mercantile enterprise! the harbour is a safe one in the south-east monsoon, but the reverse when the north-west winds prevail. it is, however, constantly visited by european shipping, which take cargoes of coffee, sugar, rice, &c. &c., to all parts of europe, australia, singapore, and china. the circumstance at this distance of time most clear and distinct in my memory, in connection with my first visit to samarang, is a tiger-fight, which i will attempt to describe. the exhibition took place on an extensive plain near the town, just after daybreak. a square of men, armed with the native spear, was formed three deep, and one hundred yards across. inside this square was placed a box resembling in shape a coffin, but much larger, containing a royal tiger fresh from his native forests, which had been brought to town the day previously for this express purpose. imagine every thing ready, the square formed, the box in its centre, and a silent multitude looking on,--some perched on trees, some on the coach-boxes of the numerous carriages, others on horseback, and thousands on foot; whilst the native chief of the district, with his friends, and the european officials of the place, occupied a gay pavilion, placed in an advantageous situation for viewing the coming strife. a native javan, in full dress, is now seen advancing into the square, followed by two coolies or porters, one carrying a bundle of straw, the other a lighted torch. the straw is thrown over the box, and the torch-bearer stands ready to set fire to it at the end where the tiger's head is, the box being too narrow to permit his turning round in it. the leading native then lifts a sliding door at the other extremity of the box, carefully covering the opening thus made with mats, to prevent the light from penetrating, and inducing his royal highness to back out too soon. this operation completed, the straw is set on fire. the native and his two coolies now retire slowly, keeping time to javanese music as they make their way outside the square. by this time, the fire has got fair hold of the box, filling it with smoke, and the tiger begins his retreat, his berth becoming rather warm. presently, his hind quarters appear issuing through the sliding doorway, its covering of mat readily yielding to the pressure: by degrees, his hind feet gain firm footing outside, and his whole body is soon displayed. on appearing, he seemed rather confused for a few seconds, and, laying himself quietly down, looked all round upon his foes, and gave a roar that made the welkin ring, and my young heart quake a little. he then rose, deliberately shook himself, turned towards the rising sun, set off first at a walk, then at a trot, which he gradually increased to a smart canter, till within a few yards of the points of the spears pointed at him; he then came to the charge, and made a spring that surprised me, and, i fancy, every one present. i am afraid to say how high he leaped, but he was on the _descent_ before a single spear touched him. this leap was evidently made with the intention of getting clear over the heads of the men and their spears too; and he most certainly would have accomplished it, had he not leaped too soon, and fallen within the square, the height of the spring being quite sufficient for the purpose. as it was, when on the descent, the spears of the six men nearest him being pointed at his breast, one of them inflicted a frightful wound. on reaching the ground, the noble beast struggled hard for his liberty; but, finding his efforts of no avail, he ultimately started off at full gallop to the opposite side of the square, where he renewed his exertions, though with less vigour than that displayed on his first attempt, and with no better success. he then galloped twice round the square, just at the point of the spears. not a man advanced to touch him, it being the rule, that the tiger must come within the range of the spears before they can be used. he was ultimately killed while making a third attempt to escape; and thus ended the sport. his first charge was very brilliant and exciting; his second much less so; his third and last was very feeble. immediately after the tiger's death, the same ceremonies were gone through with a leopard, who took the spear-men rather by surprise, and, instead of trying to leap over their heads, darted in under their spears, got among their feet, and effected his retreat, to the no small consternation of the surrounding multitude, who soon scattered in all directions. he was, however, pursued by the men he had baffled, and was killed under a bridge in the immediate neighbourhood. tigers are frequently pitted by the native chiefs of java against buffaloes, but i never was fortunate enough to witness one of those conflicts. the buffalo is generally the conqueror, and is sure to be so, if he succeeds in getting one fair butt at his adversary, whom he tosses in the air, and butts again on his fall. occasionally, the tiger declines the combat altogether, when his tormentors rouse him by the application of lighted torches to the tenderest parts of his body: but even this extreme measure has been known to fail; in which case the terrified animal is withdrawn, and another is put forward in his place. these are cruel pastimes, though they may be thought not more so than dog-fighting and cock-fighting, which were formerly so much practised in britain; and not so barbarous as a pugilistic combat between two hired brutes called prize-fighters. the society of samarang is neither so extensive nor so attractive as that of batavia: it is, however, a pleasant and healthy place, notwithstanding its proximity to an extensive swamp. its safeguard against the malaria we might naturally look for in this situation, is the tide, which flows over the marsh twice a day, and keeps it sweet. during the java war, a small volunteer corps of cavalry was formed here, the members of which, in their zeal, offered their services to join a party who were proceeding to damak, (a small village about forty miles off,) to put down a body of armed rebels. poor fellows! they went out in high spirits, but trusted too much to their unbroken horses, which took fright, and threw them into inextricable confusion on hearing the first volley. the sad consequences of this rash though gallant day's work, were, the death of seven young english gentlemen, all highly respected, and sincerely regretted by their countrymen. they were all personal friends of my own. i well remember the gloom which the intelligence cast over the society at batavia. in and about samarang may be collected any number of the beautiful java poneys, animals unsurpassed for symmetry in any part of the world.[ ] the work they perform is beyond belief. ten miles an hour is the common rate of travelling post: four of them are generally used for this purpose, and the stages are from seven to nine miles, according to the nature of the country. when within half-a-mile of the first house where relays are kept, the native coachman cracks his long, unwieldy whip, which can be heard at a great distance. at this signal, the grooms harness the four poneys whose turn for work it is; and, by the time your carriage halts under the shed that crosses the road at every post-house, the fresh poneys are to be seen coming out of the stable, all ready for the next stage. your attention is then attracted by a man with a stout bamboo, some eight feet long, in his hand, full of water, which he pours over the naves of the wheels, to cool them. by this time, the tired poneys are unhooked, the fresh ones put-to, and away rattles the carriage again with its delighted passengers. i know nothing more exciting and agreeable than a ramble amongst the mountains of this favoured isle, under the direction of the post establishment. [footnote : the java poney in her majesty's stable at windsor, is certainly no fair specimen, being the worst-favoured brute under the sun.] from samarang, early in , i posted with a friend to solo and djockdjocarta, the ancient seats of the emperors and sultans of this part of java. they are now shorn of their splendour; but they still possess novelty enough to attract a stranger. on our route, we visited some beautiful coffee-plantations, and passed through the pretty and romantic-looking village of salatiga.[ ] we had a splendid view of the far-famed _gunung marapi_, or fire-mountain; and, on every side, we saw evidence of the thriving condition of this magnificent part of java. at solo, i was so fortunate as to be present at the then emperor's marriage; a scene which brought painfully to mind the fallen state of the chiefs of this neighbourhood, by its being superintended by the dutch resident at the court. there were three days' feasting, royal salutes from the imperial guard, javanese music, and dancing girls in great numbers; but i found the whole affair very fatiguing. fallen as was the emperor's state at that time, it subsequently became much more reduced, in consequence of his having been found guilty of being secretly concerned in the late war or rebellion. he has long since followed his friend and coadjutor, diepo nogoro. a tool of the dutch government now reigns in his stead, who cannot even leave his house for twenty-four hours without permission from the resident at his court. [footnote : a name derived from the malay words, _sallah_, "a fault or crime," and _tiga_, the numeral "three"; consequently meaning the "third fault." how this pretty spot came by such a name, i never heard.] one day, i accompanied a party of friends to see the emperor's tigers, a number of which animals he generally had ready for exhibitions similar to those already described. we found one very noble fellow confined in a house some fifteen feet square, formed of the trunks of cocoa-nut trees, placed about five inches apart. on looking through, we saw the tiger in the position usually chosen by a dog when he wants to warm his face at the fire. hearing our approach, he stared us steadily in the face for about a minute, and then made a spring at us, so suddenly that he came with his whole force against the bars, before we had time to move a step. the shock shook the building, as well as our nerves, not a little, though we were of course scatheless. at solo, i first tasted the javanese "findhorn haddock," which is, in fact, a trout caught in the beautiful solo river. after being cleaned, it is wrapped up in a bundle of rice-straw, which is forthwith set on fire; and as soon as the straw is consumed, the fish is ready for eating, and really resembles in flavour its celebrated name-sake. in the neighbourhood of solo, a bold sportsman may find game to his liking, and willing natives to guide him in his search after tigers, wild hogs, the huge boa, deer, snipe, and quail. in pursuit of the last, too many a fever is caught, through the imprudence of young men in staying out too late in the day, and in keeping on their wet and soiled clothes and shoes during their ride or drive home. a little attention to such apparent trifles would save many a valuable life. deer and wild-hog are generally pursued and shot by a party armed with rifles, who post themselves along one side of a jungle, while a party of natives advance from the opposite, driving the game before them with long poles and shouting. great care must be taken by the sportsman, on these occasions, not to fire too soon: if he fires into the jungle, he runs the risk of shooting one of the bush-beaters; if to the right or left, he may plant his bullet in the breast of one of his companions. he must reserve his fire till the game is fairly out of the bush, and in rear of the line of rifles, when he may turn round and deliver his charge. i recollect a fatal accident happening near salatiga, through a gentleman's deviating from the strict rule, never to change your position when once placed by the leading sportsman. a party were out after hogs by moonlight, when one gentleman, thinking he heard a noise as of an approaching porker on his left, very imprudently got on his hands and knees to crawl round in the hope of getting the first shot. the sportsman stationed next to him got a glimpse of him on the path, and mistaking him in the uncertain light for a hog or other wild animal, fired his rifle without a moment's hesitation, and mortally wounded his unfortunate friend, who lived just long enough to acknowledge his error, and to beg that no blame might be attached to the individual who caused his death. poor fellow! he paid dearly for his imprudence. solo is protected by a small fort, which is always garrisoned by european troops, the government not choosing to trust native soldiers in that part of the country. for this, no one can blame the dutch; for the chiefs require looking after, and are apt to give trouble. while the island was held by the british government, a mutiny broke out at solo among the bengal sepoys: on its suppression, it was found they had been tampered with by these chiefs, and that numbers had been gained over to their cause. nothing can exceed the hospitality of the dutch inhabitants of this part of java: their houses are always open to the stranger, of whom they think too much cannot be made. the resident's establishment is a splendid one, and to his liberality and hospitality i can testify from personal experience. indeed, our countrymen, in many parts that i could name, might, with great advantage to themselves and to travellers in their districts, take lessons from their dutch brethren in office. from solo, i went to djockdjocarta, distant forty miles, in a gig. a kind friend having placed relays of horses on the road for me, i performed the journey with perfect ease, without the aid of a whip, in four hours. the poney i had the last stage, was the best little animal in harness i ever sat behind: he literally flew along the road. at one point, i came to a bridge, which, as i could see at some distance, had been broken, so as to render it impassable. while meditating how i was to get across the river, not knowing there was a ford in the neighbourhood, my poney, which had come the road in the morning to meet me, settled the question, by suddenly darting off, through a gap in the hedge at the road-side, down the river bank, at the top of his speed, and, before i could collect my scattered senses, was across the stream and up the opposite bank, to my no small surprise and pleasure. he was a noble little animal, of a mouse colour; and was originally purchased from a native dealer for twenty-eight guilders (about l. s. d.). at djockdjocarta are to be seen many ancient residences of the javanese chiefs; amongst others, the celebrated _cratan_ or palace, the taking of which, in , cost general gillespie a hard struggle. it is surrounded with a high wall, which encloses an area of exactly one square mile: outside the wall runs a deep, broad ditch. the place could offer but a feeble resistance against artillery, in which arm gillespie was deficient when he attacked and took it. another curious building is that in which the sultans, in days of yore, used to keep their ladies: it is composed entirely of long narrow passages, with numerous small rooms on each side; each of which, in the days of their master's glory, was the residence, according to tradition, of a beautiful favourite. to prevent the escape of the ladies, or the intrusion of any gallants, the whole pile is surrounded with a canal, which used to be filled with alligators: the only entrance was by a subterranean passage beneath this canal, and which ran under it for its whole length. when i visited the place in , the canal, passage, &c. were all in good order, though the latter was getting damp from neglect;--a proof that the masons and plasterers of java, in old times, must have been very superior workmen. djockdjocarta was the birth-place of diepo nogoro, and the scene of his earliest warlike movements against the dutch. so unexpected and sudden was his first attack, that he caught the garrison napping, and had them within his grasp before they knew he was in the field. in the _cratan_, the sultan had, in , three noble elephants, each kept under a separate shed. i went, with three other visitors, to see those animals; and we passed sometime amusing ourselves by giving them fruit and other dainties. we did not remark, however, that one of our friends had been for sometime teasing one of them, by offering him a plantain, and constantly withdrawing it just as the poor animal was laying hold of it with his trunk. we had not gone twenty yards from the spot, when the elephant's keeper approached, and gave him a couple of cocoa-nuts, (minus the husk, but with the shells,)--part of his daily food, i presume. the elephant took one of these, and, with a wicked look at the gentleman who had been teasing him, threw the nut at him with great force. fortunately he missed his aim. the nut struck a post within six inches of the teaser's head, and was literally smashed: had it struck where doubtless it was meant to do, it would certainly have proved as fatal as an eighteen-pound shot. so much for teasing elephants. we beat a speedy retreat, not choosing to risk a second shot. djockdjocarta can hardly be called a town; yet it is more than a village. the houses of the european inhabitants are much scattered, and many of them occupy very pretty situations. the climate is delicious; and exercise on horseback may be taken with impunity from six to nine a. m., and from three to seven p. m. it is not uncommon to see europeans riding about during the intervening hours; but this is generally avoided by old residents. a successful attempt was made here, by a countryman of mine, in , to grow indigo. the quantity produced was limited, but the quality was excellent; and, but for some vexatious regulations of the government regarding the residence of foreigners in this part of java, which drove the spirited individual alluded to from the neighbourhood, i have no doubt he would speedily have realized a handsome fortune. since that period, indigo-planting has been carried on in various parts of java to a large extent. the quantity produced annually is now about one million and a half of pounds; and the quality is such as to command the first prices in the continental markets. indeed, the bengal planters are becoming quite jealous of those of java. shortly before my arrival at djockdjocarta, a daring house-robbery, by a band of javanese, took place in the neighbourhood. six of the robbers were afterwards caught, tried, convicted, condemned, and executed _à la javan_ on the scene of their crime: they were tied hands and feet to separate stakes, and _krissed_ by a native executioner, who performed his dreadful office so scientifically that his victims died without a groan. the cool indifference with which five of the unfortunates witnessed the execution of the first sufferer, and successively received the _kriss_ in their own bosoms, was quite surprising, and shewed with what stoical composure the mohammedan fatalist can meet a violent death. the forests of java are inhabited by the rhinoceros, tiger, black tiger, leopard, tiger-cat, boa-constrictor, and a variety of animals of milder natures. the elephant is not found in its wild state in these woods, though numerous in those of the neighbouring island. i am not aware of any other animal that may be called dangerous to man in these unrivalled forests; nor is there much to be apprehended from occasionally coming in contact with either of those above-named, though accidents happen now and then. i have known a carriage and four attacked on the main road between batavia and samarang, by a tiger, and one of the poneys killed by the fierce onset. this, however, is a rare occurrence, and can happen only when the tiger is hard pressed for food; which is seldom the case in the woods of java, overrun as they are with deer, wild-hog, and other royal game. the boa is harmless to man, unless his path is crossed, when a speedy retreat is advisable. a friend of mine in samarang once kept one of these monsters as a pet, and used to let him crawl all over the garden: it measured exactly nineteen feet. it was regularly fed twice a month, viz. on the st and the th. on the first day of the month, a moderate-sized goat was put into his house. the poor animal would scream, and exhibit every symptom of extreme terror, but was not kept long in suspense; for the snake, after eyeing his victim keenly, would spring on it with the rapidity of thought, coil three turns round the body, and in an instant every bone in the goat's skin was broken. the next process was, to stretch the carcass to as great a length as he could before uncoiling himself; then to lick it all over; and he commenced his feast by succeeding, after some severe exertion, in getting the goat's head within his mouth. in the course of twenty minutes, the whole animal was swallowed: the snake would then lie down, and remain perfectly dormant for three or four days. his lunch (as i may call it) on the fifteenth of the month, used to consist of a duck. this snake was given, in , to lord amherst, on his return from china, and reached the cape in safety: there it was over-fed to gratify the curious visitors, and died in consequence before the ship reached st. helena. while on the subject of wild animals, i may mention a leopard that was kept by an english officer in samarang, during our occupation of the dutch colonies. this animal had its liberty, and used to run all over the house after its master. one morning, after breakfast, the officer was sitting smoking his hookah, with a book in his right-hand, and the hookah-snake in his left, when he felt a slight pain in the left hand, and, on attempting to raise it, was checked by a low angry growl from his pet leopard: on looking down, he saw the animal had been licking the back of his hand, and had by degrees drawn a little blood. the leopard would not suffer the removal of the hand, but continued licking it with great apparent relish, which did not much please his master; who, with great presence of mind, without attempting again to disturb the pet in his proceeding, called to his servant to bring him a pistol, with which he shot the animal dead on the spot. such pets as snakes nineteen feet long and full-grown leopards are not to be trifled with. the largest snake i ever saw was twenty-five feet long, and eight inches in diameter. i have _heard_ of sixty-feet snakes, but cannot vouch for the truth of the tale. in my enumeration of animals dangerous to man, i omitted the alligator, which infests every river and muddy creek in java, and grows to a very large size. at the mouth of the batavia river, they are very numerous and dangerous, particularly to europeans. it strikes one as extraordinary, to see the copper-coloured natives bathing in the river within view of a large alligator: they never seem to give the animal a thought, or to anticipate injury from his proximity. yet, were a european to enter the water by the side of the natives, his minutes in this world would be few. i recollect an instance that occurred on the occasion of a party of troops embarking at batavia for the eastward, during the java war. the men had all gone off, with the exception of three sergeants, who were to follow in the ship's jolly-boat, which was waiting for them at the wharf: two of them stepped into the boat; but the third, in following, missed his footing, and fell with his leg in the water, and his body over the gunwale of the boat. in less than an instant, an alligator darted from under the wharf, and seized the unfortunate man by the leg, while his companions in the boat laid hold of his shoulders. the poor fellow called out to his friends, "pull; hold on; don't let go"; but their utmost exertions were unavailing. the alligator proved the strongest, and carried off his prize. the scene was described to me by a bystander, who said, he could trace the monster's course all the way down the river with his victim in his immense mouth. the inhabitants of java are, generally speaking, a quiet, tractable race, but rather lazy withal. the dutch government could never have made the island produce half the quantity it now yields of either sugar, coffee, or rice, without a little wholesome coercion;--coercion that seemed somewhat tyrannical at first, but which has ultimately pleased all parties concerned, and done wonders for java. if my memory serves me, it was in the time of governor vandenborch that this system of coercion commenced. the inhabitants of the villages, in various parts of the island, were compelled by an armed force, when milder means had failed, to turn out at day-light, and labour in the fields planted either by government itself or by government contractors, which naturally caused a great deal of discontent; but, as the labourers were regularly paid in cash for their day's work every evening, they very soon became reconciled to a system that not only provided amply for their families, but gave them the means of indulging in their favourite pastime, gambling. to this vice, all classes are passionately addicted; and nothing is more common than to see a gang of coolies sit down in the middle of the road, and gamble for hours on the few pieces they may have just earned for having carried a heavy burthen a couple of miles. the inhabitants of the districts in which the coercion i speak of has been put in force, are now better satisfied with their rulers than ever they were before. the extent to which the growth of coffee and sugar has been carried, has rather checked that of rice, which has been twenty-five per cent. dearer the last fifteen years, than during the preceding twenty: it is, however, still cheap enough as an article of food, though the price is too high to compete, in the china or singapore markets, with the produce of lombok, bally, siam, or cochin china.[ ] [footnote : by the last overland papers from singapore (sept. ), i observe, the dutch government has been importing rice from pondicherry to java;--a proceeding quite unprecedented in my time, and to be accounted for only by the extent to which the cultivation of sugar, indigo, and coffee is carried, in order to satisfy the constant demands on the colonies of the netherlands for money. to this cause may be added, however, the occurrence of one or two dry seasons;--a rare phenomenon within the tropics, and attributable, probably, in some degree, to the vast extent of country recently cleared of forest and jungle to make way for the plough. no policy can be so blind as that which compels the poor javanese to eat imported rice, while living in a country capable of yielding food for all europe.] slavery still exists in java, and every dutch family has its domestic slaves. the law forbids the importation of fresh ones, and provides for the good treatment of those now in bondage. it also prohibits the slave-owner from separating a family; so that the wife and husband cannot be parted from each other, or from their children, except in the case of a crime having been committed by a member of the family. in that case, the guilty party is, on application to the chief magistrate, put up to auction, and sold to the highest bidder. this, however, is a rare occurrence, though i have witnessed such sales. the slaves, knowing well the consequence of an act of dishonesty, are cautious how they venture to trespass on the rights of _meum_ and _tuum_. i may safely say, i have never, in all my wanderings, seen a race of people better treated than the slaves of java: they are well fed and well clothed; and adults of both sexes receive a monthly allowance of two guilders ( s. d.) under the name of pocket-money. this sum may seem small; but, when we take into consideration, that a free man can be hired for eight guilders per month in batavia, and for six in the country, on which sum he has to feed and clothe himself and his wife and children, it will be sufficiently evident that the slave's allowance is ample, his master feeding and clothing him and his family. i object _in toto_ to slavery in any form; but i confess i do not think the slaves of java would be benefitted, were their liberty given them to-morrow. the natives of java are by no means free from that prevalent eastern vice, or luxury, opium-smoking; and the dutch government derives an immense revenue from the article. i have, in various parts of the eastern world, seen the evil effects of opium-smoking; but am decidedly of opinion, that those arising from gin-drinking in england, and from whisky-drinking in ireland and scotland, far exceed them. let any unprejudiced european walk through the native towns of java, singapore, or china, and see if he can find a single drunken native. what he will meet with are, numbers of drunken english, scotch, and irish seamen, literally rolling in the gutters, intoxicated, not from opium, but from rum and other spirits sent all the way from england for the purpose of enabling her worthy sons to exhibit themselves to chinese and other nations in this disgraceful light. that spirit-drinking at home is no excuse for opium-smoking abroad, i admit; but i would recommend the well-intentioned persons who have of late been raising such an outcry on the subject of opium, to begin at home, and attempt to reform their own countrymen: they may then come to china with a clear conscience, and preach reform to the poor opium-smoker. among other improvements in java, its rulers have lately turned their attention to the cultivation of tea, and with considerable success so far as regards the quality, i have no means of ascertaining the quantity of tea at present produced yearly; but have no doubt it will, before long, become an important article of export from the island. before quitting java, i must say a word about the far-famed upas-tree. such a tree certainly exists on the island; but the tales that are told of its poisoning the air for hundreds of yards round, so that birds dare not approach it, that vegetation is destroyed beneath its branches, and that man cannot come near it with impunity, are perfectly ridiculous. to prove their absurdity, a friend of mine climbed up a upas-tree, and passed two hours in its branches, where he took his lunch and smoked a cigar. the tree, however, does contain poison, and the natives extract the sap, with which they rub their spear and _kriss_ blades: wounds inflicted with blades thus anointed, are mortal. such i believe to be the origin of the many fabulous stories that have passed from hand to hand, and from generation to generation, about the upas-tree of java. chapter iii. singapore. advantageous position of singapore--cultivation of the nutmeg and cocoa-nut--roads and scenery-- motley population--european residents--chinese emigrants--klings--sampan-men--places of worship--tigers. in the month of may , i returned from my trip to the eastward, and was kept tightly at work in batavia, till fate sent me wandering in july . singapore was the first place i visited; and to it, therefore, i must devote the next few pages of these retrospective lucubrations. sir thomas stamford raffles deserved a great deal of credit and praise from the mercantile community of britain, for having established this emporium of trade. a more lovely or better situation could not have been chosen; and its surprising prosperity has more than realized its founder's expectations, sanguine as they were. since , i have resided some considerable time in singapore; have witnessed its progress towards its present nourishing condition; and am sufficiently well acquainted with its trade and its inhabitants to enable me to speak confidently respecting them. the island itself, though only seventy-six miles from the equator, enjoys a delightful climate, and is remarkable for salubrity. its proximity to the line secures frequent refreshing showers, and its foliage is in consequence always in the full bloom of summer. during an acquaintance with it of eighteen years, i have never known a drought of more than three weeks' duration. its soil, with little tillage, produces the nutmeg, the clove, coffee, the cocoa-nut, the sugar-cane, the pepper-vine, gambia or terra japonica, and all the fruits common to malacca and java. the east-india company's regulations regarding land checked, for a few years, the spirit of the agriculturist; but, within the last ten years, a few spirited and praiseworthy individuals have laid out considerable sums of money in nutmeg, coffee, sugar, and cocoa-nut plantations. it is a somewhat doubtful point, in my opinion, whether sugar or coffee plantations on this island will ever pay; but, of the nutmeg and cocoa-nut groves, i have the best opinion, and think their proprietors have a very fair chance of ultimately being well paid for their outlay. of the nutmeg gardens, that of dr. oxley's is by far the finest on the island. this gentleman has spared neither trouble nor expense in bringing his plants forward, and has now five thousand of the very finest nutmeg-trees i ever saw. nothing can be finer than their beautiful position, tasteful outlay, and luxuriant foliage. it is now eighteen months since i last saw those trees: they were then just coming into bearing; and they are now, i hope, paying their spirited proprietor for his monthly outlay at all events, though it may be a few years yet before they return him interest for his money, and adequate remuneration for his trouble. a plantation of ten or fifteen thousand cocoa-nut trees is a more valuable property than many people imagine. as soon as they come into bearing, which they do in five years from seed, they are worth three-quarters of a dollar each per annum net profit, after paying the labourers: thus, fifteen thousand of them will yield their proprietor , dollars per annum, (_i. e._ at the moderate calculation of s. d. to the dollar, l. s. d. sterling,) a sum that would cover all the outlay incurred during the five nonproductive years, and be a secure revenue to the owner of the estate for ever, provided that he is careful in replacing the old trees, as fast as they die, with new plants. my reasons for doubting the success of coffee-plantations in singapore are, that there is not sufficient depth of soil for the tree, and that, if there were, labour is too high to enable the planters to compete with those of java. as regards sugar, singapore being a sugar-importing colony, its own produce pays, on being imported into england, s. per hundred-weight more duty than the produce of non-importing british colonies.[ ] the high price of labour is also against the sugar-planter. an able-bodied labourer costs, in singapore, four dollars per month, while the same man can be had in the mountains of java for three guilders in money, and the value of two in rice. thus, the singapore planter pays more than double the rate of wages for his labour; and, as his lands are not so rich as his neighbour's, he stands, i fear, but a poor chance in the competition with him. [footnote : since my arrival in england, an act has been passed, removing, in some measure, this bar to the prosperity of the singapore sugar-planter;--i allude to the recent reduction in the duty on all sugars, excepting slave-grown. the singaporeans are naturally anxious to be allowed to send their sugars to the english market on the same terms as their brethren of prince of wales' island have lately been permitted to do. this they can hardly expect, however, while they continue to be such large importers of siam and other foreign sugars as they are and always have been. to require them to give up this foreign trade, would do them far more injury than the granting of their planters' petition would benefit them.] to the eastward of the town of singapore, extends a considerable plain, on which the sugar and cocoa-nut plantations stand. to the westward and inland of the town, the country consists almost entirely of hill and dale; and its aspect is very striking and picturesque. on many of these miniature (for they are but miniature) hills, stand pretty _bungalows_, surrounded with nutmeg and fruit trees: they are delightful residences, and have the very great advantage of cool nights, when the tired planter or merchant can enjoy a sound sleep after the fatigues of a hot day. a great deal has been done for singapore by gangs of convicts from bengal, madras, and bombay, who, under an experienced and able superintendent, have cut and made excellent roads, that now extend east, west, north, and south, for several miles. cutting these roads has drained, and thereby rendered available, large tracts of land that were recently quite valueless: they also add much to the enjoyment of the singaporean, by enabling him to extend his ride or drive of an evening. the scenery along the different roads consists of hills and dales, covered with the richest and most luxuriant foliage, with here and there a clearing, where some industrious china-man has squatted, in defiance of tigers and east-india company's regulations. now that land can be got on better terms than formerly, these clearings are being purchased by europeans of the squatter,--whose prior right the government always protects to the extent of a fair remuneration for his labour,--and are being turned into gardens or plantations. this drives back the squatter, who, like his brethren all over the world, is ever willing to sell and move further inland; thus materially increasing the extent of cleared land from year to year. the primeval jungles of singapore are so thickly timbered and covered with underwood and large, tough creepers, that the man who undertakes to clear them has before him an herculean task. according to the best information i could obtain, it requires a cash outlay of sixty dollars to clear a single acre; and even that large sum does not thoroughly stump it (_i. e._ clear off all the large roots and stumps of the larger trees) for the planting of coffee, nutmegs, or pepper. for these, however, this is less necessary, as the plants are placed at a considerable distance from each other: for sugar, it is very desirable to have every stump taken out. swamps abound on the island: fortunately, they are all salt-water swamps, and flooded daily by the tide, which keeps them sweet, so that no one suffers from residing in their neighbourhood. a full description of the inhabitants of singapore would fill a volume, they are of so many countries. here may be seen, besides europeans of different nations, and americans, the jew, the armenian, the persian, the parsee, the arab, the bengalee, the malabaree, the china-man, the malay, the javanese, the siamese, the cochin chinese, with the native of borneo, of macassar, and of every island of the eastern archipelago; all in the costumes of their respective countries, and forming motley groupes that can nowhere be surpassed. with the exception of the europeans, americans, and armenians, each class occupies a distinct quarter of the town, mixing but little with the rest, except in business hours, when one and all may be seen in eager converse on the all-important subject of money-making. europeans generally live in garden-houses in the suburbs. the favourite situation is along the beach to the eastward of the town, from which the merchant has a full view of the harbour, as well as of both its entrances, and can see every vessel that comes or goes. pleasant, however, as is this part of the suburbs, it is gradually being deserted for country situations, where the hot winds of july, august, and september are not so much felt, and where the nights are cooler than on the sea-shore. the houses generally occupied by these gentlemen, are large and roomy, with verandahs in front and rear, enclosed with venetian blinds: these are kept shut from ten a. m. till four p. m., which darkens the house so much that a visiter can with difficulty see his host or hostess for two or three minutes after entering a room, till the pupils of his eyes, contracted by the glare on the road, expand, and enable him to distinguish objects. this custom keeps the house wonderfully cool, and is universally adopted by newcomers after the first few months of their residence. the chinese occupy the next best part of the town, and many of them have built substantial and commodious houses. a portion of this class are the descendants of chinese who settled at malacca two hundred years ago: they have never been to china, and speak malay much more fluently than they do their own language. numbers of them keep their families at malacca, having superstitious objections to a final removal far from the graves of their ancestors. the real chinese emigrant looks on singapore only as a temporary home, and invariably remits something every year, according to his means, to his aged parents, wife, or sisters. he usually consoles himself for his absence from his wife, by taking to himself another of the country he resides in: the offspring of this second marriage is always properly cared for on the father's return to china, where he probably takes the eldest boy to be educated. the chinese junks bring annually to this part of the world, from six to eight thousand emigrants, ninety-nine-hundredths of whom land without a sixpence in the world beyond the clothes they stand in. the consequence of this is, that those who cannot succeed in obtaining immediate employment, take to thieving, from necessity; and some daring gang robberies are committed every year. they do not, however, long continue this mode of life; for the eight thousand new comers soon scatter, and find employment either on the island, in the tin-mines of banca, or on the malayan peninsula. ship-loads of these men have been sent to the mauritius, where they have given general satisfaction; and no better class of emigrants could be found for the west indies. a tight curb on a china-man will make him do a great deal of work: at the same time, he has spirit enough to resist real ill treatment. all the mechanics and house-builders, and many boatmen and fishermen of singapore, are chinese. of the other inhabitants, the most numerous are the malabarees, who are principally employed as shopkeepers, and are as knowing in the art of bargain-driving as any tradesmen of london or paris. they generally go here under the denomination of "_klings_," an appellation synonymous, in the singapore vocabulary, with "scamp," to which i have no inclination to dispute their title. the boats employed to carry cargoes to and from the shipping in the harbour, are almost all manned by these _klings_; and excellent boatmen they are. when pulling off a heavily-laden boat, they cheer their labour by a song, led, in general, by the steersman, the crew joining in chorus. they are a willing, hard-working race, though rather given to shut their eyes to the difference between _meum_ and _tuum_. the original malay inhabitants of this island are now the most insignificant, both as to numbers and as to general utility, of the many races that are found on it. from this remark must be excepted, however, the _sampan_-men, who are of great service to the mercantile community. in their fast-sailing _sampans_ (a superior sort of canoe, peculiar to the place), they go out ten, fifteen, and even twenty miles, to meet any ship that may be signalized as approaching the harbour. they are usually employed to attend a ship during her stay here, few masters choosing to trust their crews on shore in boats. of late years, reports have been in circulation of a suspected connection between the sampan-men and the malay pirates in the neighbourhood; but i question their having any foundation in fact. those malay families whose young men are thus employed as _sampan_-men, are called _orang-laut_, or "people of the sea," from their living entirely afloat. the middle of the river just opposite the town of singapore, is crowded with boats about twenty feet long by five wide, in which these poor people are born, live, and die. they are wretched abodes, but are preferred, from long custom i fancy, by their inhabitants, who, if they chose, could find room on shore to build huts that would cost less than these marine dwellings. each different class of the inhabitants of the island have their own place of worship. the english church, built in by a contribution from the government and a subscription among the european inhabitants, is a handsome building in a central situation, capable of holding four times as many people as are likely to be ever collected within it: it is neatly fitted up, but lacked a steeple, or even a belfry. this deficiency, however, is about to be supplied by a subscription raised at the suggestion of the bishop of calcutta, during his last official visit to this portion of his immense diocese.[ ] [footnote : since this was written, the chapel has been much improved, and an elegant steeple added to it. there seems to be some fatality attaching to clergymen at singapore. the last three incumbents, messrs. burn, darrah, and white, all died young, and of the same complaint, namely, diseased liver. my own opinion is, that they were all three too strict adherents to teetotalism. in warm climates, a moderate and rather liberal allowance of wine, i believe to be absolutely necessary.] the chinese pagoda is a splendid building, according to the celestial taste in such matters, and is really well worth seeing: the carving and general fitting-up of the interior are very beautiful, and substantial enough to make one believe they will last a thousand years, as the chinese say they will. in the centre, the queen of heaven is seen decked forth in robes of the most superb figured satin, richly embroidered with gold; robes that the wealthiest dames of the proudest cities of europe might envy, but the like to which they never can possess. her majesty was brought from china; and the owner of the junk in which she came, would not receive a penny as freight for the room she occupied. on her arrival in singapore harbour, the whole chinese population of the island turned out to see her land, and paraded her through the town, with all the noise they could by any possibility extract from about a thousand gongs. the building in which she has taken up her quarters, cost , spanish dollars, and does credit to the chinese workmen of singapore. one day, shortly after the building of this temple, i asked an intelligent and wealthy chinese, how often he went to it. his answer, in broken english, ran thus: "sometime one moon, sometime two moon. suppose i want ask god for something, i go churchee. suppose i no want ask any thing, what for i go?" on my asking whether he never went to return thanks for past favours, he seemed to think my question a very silly one, and said, "no use." the american chapel is a remarkably neat little building. besides these, there is no other place of worship in singapore worthy of notice. before quitting the subject of the inhabitants of this land of perpetual summer, i must mention one class which the others would gladly get rid of: i allude to the tigers of a large size which abound here, and which, having cleared the jungles of wild-hog and jackalls, and nearly so of deer, have lately commenced preying on man, to whom they have become a most formidable and dreaded foe. were i to set down the number of unfortunate individuals who have, since , been killed by these lords of the forests, i should scarcely expect to be credited. let any one look over the newspapers of the island for the last five or six years, and they will tell him a tale of horror that will make his blood freeze. many of the more distant gambia-plantations have been deserted by their proprietors in consequence of the ravages of these monsters. government, in the hope of remedying or mitigating the evil, offered a reward of one hundred dollars for every tiger brought in alive or dead; but so dense are the jungles in which they seek shelter, that their pursuers have hitherto been far from successful. one is brought in now and then, for which the captor receives his reward, and sells the flesh for some forty dollars more; for the reader must know, that the flesh of a tiger is readily purchased and eagerly eaten by the chinese, under the notion that some of the courage of the animal will be thereby instilled into them. some time before i left the island, a malay fell in with two tiger cubs in the woods, and captured one of them: next day, he went back, like a fool, alone, in search of the other, when the dam captured and made a meal of him; a lesson to his countrymen, which has effectually cured them of meddling with tiger-whelps. on another occasion, a china-man, having set a trap for tigers, took a walk out about midnight, to see if his plan had been successful. he paid dearly for his temerity, being carried off by some prowling monster; and his mangled body was found near the place a few days afterwards. chapter iv. singapore. trade of singapore--chinese traders--bugis traders--siamese and cochin chinese--arab smugglers--borneo--trade with calcutta-- commercial prospects. the trade of singapore has, until within the last three years, gone on increasing; but it has now, in the opinion of many people, reached its ultimatum. the harbour is visited regularly by native vessels from all the neighbouring islands, as well as from the continent; and i shall proceed to notice the nature and value of their trade, respectively, class by class. and first as to the china junks. these unwieldy vessels visit the island in numbers varying from one hundred and fifty to two hundred and fifty per annum, their size ranging from fifty to five hundred tons: they are manned and navigated entirely by chinese. they of course come with the monsoon, and reach singapore in the months of january, february, and march. their cargoes form a very material item in the trade of the place, and consist of tea, raw silk, camphor, nankin (both yellow and blue), immense quantities of coarse earthenware, and supplies of all kinds for the myriads of chinese that reside on this and the neighbouring islands. the season of their arrival is one of great activity in the chinese bazaars, and gives an impulse to the trade of the importer of manchester and glasgow manufactures. their commanders and supercargoes are cautious dealers, and usually sound the market well before disposing of their commodities. sometimes, however, they overstand their market, and suffer by refusing the first offers made. this was particularly the case in the season of , in the article of tea, which fell in price with every overland mail that came in, making these wary men rue their having declined the offers that had been made them previously. most of them are opium-smokers; and their countrymen, with whom they deal, take care to keep them well supplied with this luxury, and obtain many a good bargain from them when under its influence. the export cargoes of this class of vessels consist principally of raw cotton, cotton yarn, cotton goods, opium, béche-de-mer or sea slug, pepper, tin, rattans, edible birds'-nests, deers' sinews, sharks' fins, fish maws, &c. of the first three articles, they have of late taken annually the following quantities:--raw cotton, , bales of lbs. each; cotton goods, , pieces of yards each; opium, chests of lbs. each; the aggregate value of which i put down, in round numbers, at two millions of dollars. many of the small junks that arrive with the last of the north-east monsoon in april, are fast-sailing craft, and come expressly for opium, to pay for which they bring nothing but bullion: they take their departure early in may, and smuggle the drug into canton by paying the usual bribe to the mandarins. all the large junks have sailed on their return voyage by the end of june. some few of them that waited in till the middle of july, in the hope of getting opium cheaper than their neighbours who sailed earlier, encountered heavy gales in the chinese sea; and one or two of them were lost with valuable cargoes. this lesson has not been lost upon their successors, who have since taken care to run no such risks. advantage is taken of the opportunity afforded by the return of these junks, every season, by the chinese residents, to make remittances to their families in china; and the masters of them are entrusted with their remittances, which usually consist of money, though, occasionally, rice and other useful articles are sent. the shipper pays the master a per-centage on the sum transmitted; and instances of fraud on the part of the latter are extremely rare. a boy about fourteen years of age whom i had as a servant in my house at singapore, used to ask me for a month's wages in advance, to send to his mother in macao. hundreds of similar instances might be adduced. this is one of the bright traits in the chinese character. the native traders next in importance to the chinese, are the bugis. these arrive in october and november, bringing in their uncouth-looking vessels, large quantities of coffee of very good quality, gold-dust, tortoise-shell, native clothes (celebrated all over the archipelago for their durability), béche-de-mer, deer-sinews, rice, &c. they come from the different ports on the islands of celebes, &c., but principally from macassar. they are a shrewd race, but are no match for their chinese competitors. on the arrival of a boat, her _hakoda_ (or commander) lands with nearly every man on board; and he may be seen walking all over the place for a few days before making any bargain. they are a troublesome set to deal with, and require the exercise of more patience than a european in these parts generally possesses. they are, however, always received with a hearty welcome by the chinese of the island, who, inviting them to be seated, immediately hand round the _siri-box_ (betel-nut, arica leaf, &c.) among them; and over this universal luxury, they will sit and talk on business matters for hours, during which time it may be fairly calculated that both host and guests tell a lie per minute, without betraying by their countenances the slightest consciousness of having been thus engaged. this strange sort of preliminary negotiation goes on, probably, for a week; at the end of which the passer-by may see the contents of the different bugis boats entering the chinese shops or stores, as the case may be. on getting rid of his import cargo, the bugis trader takes a few days more to rest and refresh himself, before he begins looking round for a return cargo, which usually consists of opium, iron, steel, cotton yarn, cotton goods, gold thread, &c. he seldom or never takes money away with him. on an average, two hundred of these boats come to singapore in the fall of the year, each manned by about thirty men. their crews are not allowed to land armed with the _kriss_ or any other weapon; a wise precaution, as they are rather too fond of having recourse to them in the event of any quarrel or misunderstanding with those with whom they deal. notwithstanding this salutary regulation, i have witnessed serious disturbances, ending, on more than one occasion, in bloodshed, between these traders and the bazaar shopkeepers of singapore. what i refer to occurred many years ago, however, and is not very likely to happen again, as the reins are kept much tighter over them than of yore. they are essentially a maritime people, and are not, as far as i have ever heard, addicted to piracy. they generally sail in small fleets, and are quite prepared to defend themselves against the common malay pirate, who meets a stout resistance when he meddles with them. like most, or, i may say, all the inhabitants of this part of the world, they deal more or less in slaves; and it would not be difficult to prove their having sold boys and girls in singapore within these ten years, though i firmly believe that the disgraceful traffic has been put an entire stop to of late. these men visit, during the months in which the south-east monsoon prevails, torres straits, and the numerous islands in that neighbourhood, for the purpose of gathering béche-de-mer and tortoise-shell. they pick up, also, slaves from papua (new guinea), for whom they find a ready market in celebes. our settlement of port essington has long been a favourite resort of the bugis trader; and were the government to encourage chinese and other settlers, by giving them grants of land, to establish themselves there, there can be no doubt that it would soon become a very important place, instead of a mere military station, or rather place of banishment, for some fifty royal marines. as for its being a refuge for shipwrecked seamen, i have never heard of an instance of a crew of the numerous vessels annually lost in torres straits seeking shelter there. this state of affairs would be altered, however, were the port thrown open to the commercial world. as it is, a shipwrecked crew landing there, might have to remain a twelvemonth for an opportunity to get away again; consequently, every seaman placed in that unfortunate position, pushes on in his open boat to the dutch settlements on the island of timor. next in importance to the bugis, i may rank the siamese and cochin chinese traders, who arrive at singapore during the north-east monsoon. the trade of these two countries used to be carried on entirely in junks peculiar to each of them respectively; but the state of things has been materially altered of late. the sovereigns of siam and cochin china have recently built and fitted-out several square-rigged vessels, those of siam being commanded by europeans, and manned by natives of that country. these vessels are the private property of the kings whose flags they bear, and are loaded on their account and at their risk. their cargoes consist principally of sugar and rice, which find ready purchasers in singapore. the sugar of siam is of very superior quality, and is sent up in large quantities to bombay, whence it finds its way up the indus and the persian gulf. the rice of siam is a superior article, and has of late been sent in considerable quantities to london. the grain is liable to the disadvantage of not keeping so well as that of bengal or java; but this fault might, i think, be obviated, partially at all events, by adopting the calcutta plan of putting a pound or two of rice-dust and lime into each bag: this not only tends to preserve the rice, but repels the destructive weavil; a little black insect that makes its appearance in wheat and rice, in immense numbers, in those warm latitudes. the cochin chinese ships generally bring each four thousand _peculs_ of sugar, which is of three qualities; namely, sixteen hundred _peculs_ of first quality, the same quantity of second, and eight hundred _peculs_ of the third sort. the first two are good articles, though not equal to the sugars of siam. the cargoes of these ships are so carefully put up, that i have purchased and re-shipped them without opening or weighing more than five bags out of each hundred, and have never had cause to repent the confidence thus placed in the seller, who is an _employé_ of his cochin chinese majesty. in addition to sugar and rice, the siamese vessels bring gamboge and cocoa-nut oil of a superior quality: the former is bought up for the london and continental markets, and the latter for consumption in the straits' settlements. notwithstanding the monopolizing system of the sovereigns of the two countries just mentioned, the trade by junks is still carried on to a limited extent: their cargo consists of the same articles as the kings' ships bring; and their owners make money in spite of monopoly and of the iron rod with which they are ruled. at the commencement of the rupture between great britain and china, his siamese majesty thought proper to follow the example of his celestial brother, and to interdict the trade in opium, which used to flourish in his dominions. his proclamation prohibiting the trade, came so suddenly upon the parties concerned in it, and took effect so immediately, that many of the opium-traders went into his capita of bang-kok with their usual cargoes, in utter ignorance of what had taken place, and found their vessels seized, their cargoes confiscated, and themselves put in irons and thrown into prison, where they were kept till the interference of the singapore government procured their release as british subjects trading under the english flag. the restriction on this trade has not yet been removed ( ); nor is it likely to be, till the king finds himself in want of money, when he will be glad to allow his subjects to resume a traffic that yielded him a large revenue in former days. siam produces teak timber of excellent quality, which can be had on very reasonable terms; and of this, the ship-builders of singapore do not fail to take advantage. a portion of the cochin chinese trade is carried on in vessels so small and so frail, that it is astonishing that men can be found to navigate with them the dangerous chinese sea: they do not exceed thirty tons burthen. being wholly unprovided with defensive weapons of any description, many of them are annually taken by the malay pirates as soon as they make their appearance inside point romania, at the mouth of singapore strait. they are lateen-rigged with mat sails, are fast sailers, hold a good wind, and have a very pretty appearance when entering the harbour in fleets of fifteen or twenty sail. singapore is annually visited by a large fleet of vessels from all parts of java: the most important of these are what are commonly called arab ships, that is, ships fitted out and owned by arabs residing in java. they carry the dutch flag, are commanded by arabs, and manned by javanese. if fame does not belie them, these arab commanders are notorious smugglers. this is certain; that they take goods from singapore in exchange for the coffee, sugar, rice, &c., which they bring from java, and that they give prices that would leave them no margin for profit, if his netherlands majesty's duties were paid on them. for this sort of illicit trade, the coast of java offers many facilities in its numerous small rivers, with which the arab ship-master is intimately acquainted. the article of opium, though strictly prohibited by the authorities of java, is taken by the arabs from singapore in considerable quantities, notwithstanding the pains and penalties attached to its being found on board their vessels; and smuggled into java the drug most undoubtedly is, let the dutchmen boast of their spies and custom-house establishment as they will. these arab ships are built of teak, ranging from one hundred and fifty to five hundred tons per register, and are altogether remarkably fine vessels. from the islands of lombok and bally, directly eastward of java, the market of singapore receives a large annual supply of rice of fair quality, a small quantity of coffee, and some coarse native cloths, to which i may add, a few good stout poneys. the boats from these islands resemble those from celebes, and are sometimes classed among the bugis traders: they carry back, as return cargoes, opium, muskets, copper cash, a little gold and silver thread, cotton yarn, and cotton manufactures. these islands have their own rajahs and laws, but are narrowly watched and kept in check by their neighbours, the dutch. borneo, notwithstanding its vast extent and immense internal wealth, has but a limited external trade. boats from sambas, pontianack, and borneo proper, visit singapore every year, from may till october, and bring with them black pepper, malay camphor, gold-dust, rattans, &c. most wretched boats they are, and, according to the accounts given to me by their _hakodas_ (commanders), very difficult to keep afloat when laden. little can be said in favour of the natives of the sea-coast of borneo, which is, and has been for ages, the haunt of pirates. many vessels, particularly native _proas_, have been plundered, and their crews murdered or carried into slavery, by the marauders of this inhospitable shore; and it is not twenty years since a visit to it was considered as highly dangerous even in a well-armed vessel. whole fleets of piratical boats ascend from time to time the rivers of this island, and plunder the native villages, carrying off the females and children as slaves, murdering the adult males, and setting fire to the houses. the proceedings of these vagabonds have received some severe checks, of late years, from the operations of a spirited and enterprising individual, mr. james brooke, whose well-known zeal and activity are beyond all praise. an occasional visit also from one of her majesty's ships, has done much good; and the recent operations of capt. keppel of the dido, gave them a check they will not soon get over. the ascertained existence of extensive veins of coal on the banks of the river of borneo proper, will render that neighbourhood of great importance, on the completion of the line of steam communication from ceylon to hong kong, _viâ_ singapore. i believe there is no doubt either as to the large quantity of coal to be had there, or as to its superior quality. but, upon the subject of borneo, i shall have a few words more to say hereafter. the trade between calcutta and the straits' settlements, is both extensive and important. vessels from the hooghly visit singapore throughout the year, bringing large supplies of raw cotton, indian cotton goods, opium, wheat, &c. in return, they carry back vast quantities of gold-dust, tin, pepper, sago, gambia, and treasure. it is no unfrequent occurrence, to find the singapore market pretty nearly cleared of the circulating medium after the departure of two or three clippers for the "city of palaces." indeed, treasure and gold-dust are, in nine cases out of ten, the only safe remittance from the straits of malacca to calcutta; and those who remit in other modes, frequently sustain heavy losses, which not only affect the individuals concerned, but check the trade generally. i have now given a rapid view of the principal features of the native trade of singapore, without pretending to give a perfect account of it. before taking leave of this pretty little island, i will add a few general remarks upon its condition and prospects. its actual state, when i left it in , was far from being as prosperous as i could wish. an emporium of the trade of the whole of the eastern archipelago, its aggregate imports and exports may be estimated, in round numbers, at three millions sterling per annum. trade by barter is the system generally adopted; and notwithstanding long-continued exertions on the part of the european mercantile community to establish the cash system, their success has been so very partial, that nine-tenths of the remittances to europe and india in return for goods consigned here for sale, are made in produce. severe losses have been sustained here, from time to time, by the european mercantile firms, in consequence of their giving credit, to an almost unlimited extent, to chinese and other dealers, many of them mere men of straw. during last year, these losses have amounted to very considerable sums. this has led to renewed and more strenuous exertions to establish a cash system, but, i fear, with indifferent success. the present state of the bazaars is very far from satisfactory: my last accounts state, that no one knows who can be trusted. the natural consequence of such a state of things is, a serious decrease in the amount of sales; and had it not been for the demand for glasgow and manchester manufactures, caused by the high price of those articles in china, the importers would have had four-fifths of their stocks left on hand. of the state of the public health in singapore, i am able to report most favourably. let any one go there and see the european residents of sixteen and twenty years' standing, and he will be able to judge for himself. during an intimate acquaintance of eighteen years with this part of the world, i have never known any endemic disease to prevail; never heard of more than one european dying of cholera, or of more than three europeans being attacked with that disease; never knew but one or two cases of liver-complaint in which the sufferers had not their own imprudence to thank for the attack; and, as far as my memory serves me, cannot reckon up two deaths among the european inhabitants in that long period. some one may here whisper, "look at the state of your singapore burying-ground." my reply is, that it is filled by the death of numbers who have, from time to time, arrived from calcutta and other parts of india in a dying state, and who would have died six months sooner, had they not come to breathe the pure air of singapore. on this point, i boldly challenge contradiction. as to the commercial prospects of this island, i have some misgivings. the recent establishment, by her majesty's government, of the british colony of hong kong, and the opening of the northern ports on the coast of china, will, i fear, give its commerce a check: indeed, it seems inevitable that it should suffer from these causes. when we consider the vast importance of the chinese junk-trade to singapore, and take into account the cheaper rate we can supply them, now their ports are open, at their own doors, with every commodity they require from the malay islands, the risk, trouble, and expense they will save by supplying their wants or disposing of their superfluities, in the harbours of shang hae, ningpo, foo chow, or amoy, instead of undertaking the long voyage to the straits of malacca for that purpose,--one is at a loss to conceive on what grounds the sanguine expectation can rest, that the opening of china will do singapore no harm. some of its merchants evidently share in my anticipation, as they have completed arrangements for forming establishments at hong kong, in order to avail themselves of the change they expect to take place in the course of the trade. it will not be this year, nor, probably, the next, that this change will take place; but, that it must ultimately come to pass, i can see no room to doubt.[ ] [footnote : sept. .--recent accounts from singapore in some measure confirm this view. it is noted, among other things, that the quantity of tea imported by the chinese junks in the season of - was only quarter-chests; whereas, in that of - , the imports exceeded twenty times that quantity. camphor, however, continues to come in as large quantities as ever. the opium trade again, has diminished three-fourths; and my prediction that pepper &c. would be carried to the northern ports of china in european vessels, has been fulfilled, though, from this branch of commerce, singapore, or its merchants, will still derive benefit as carriers. the chinese of singapore have taken up this trade with great spirit, and will doubtless continue it.] in other branches of its trade, singapore will, probably, not suffer so much from the late arrangements with china; but it will suffer more or less. it is extremely likely, that a large portion of the rice of bally and lombok, the pepper of borneo, and the béche-de-mer of celebes, will be carried direct to china in european vessels, instead of passing, as hitherto, through the hands of the singapore merchants. whenever a new mart is opened, there is no want of men, money, or ships to take advantage of it; and we can place pepper from borneo, and rice from bally, in any port on the coast of china, for less money, by carrying them there direct from the place of growth, than the chinese can by carrying them from singapore in their junks. these vessels only make one voyage in the year; whereas a square-rigged vessel can make three with ease; and it is on account of the greater service performed by the latter, that she can carry goods to market cheaper than a junk. i repeat, therefore, that i think the trade of singapore has reached its maximum; and that the town has attained to its highest point of importance and prosperity. indeed, it is at this moment rather over-built. a beautiful and healthy town, however, it is; and that it may not suffer materially or permanently from the causes above mentioned, but continue to prosper as formerly, is a wish that comes from the very bottom of my heart. singapore is under a governor, (who also rules over malacca and penang,) resident councillors, a police magistrate, and some half-dozen under-strappers. the establishment is altogether an economical one, and, on the whole, well conducted. it has, moreover, a court of justice, with civil, criminal, and admiralty jurisdiction, which is presided over by a recorder appointed by the home government. his authority also extends over the neighbouring settlements of malacca and penang. the governor and three resident councillors are members of this court. in the absence of the recorder, they can and do hold court, and, in extreme cases, carry into execution sentences of death passed on their own responsibility. the late governor, the honourable s. g. bonham, held the post for many years, and left the island with the good wishes of every inhabitant. to his credit and honour be it said, that, out of the many hundreds of civil cases tried and adjudicated by him, i never heard of one in which his decision was reversed, in the event of the parties petitioning for and obtaining a new trial from the recorder. such petitions, owing to the well-known love of litigation inherent in the asiatic character, were very numerous; but, in nine cases out of ten, the recorder saw no reason to grant a new trial; and the few who succeeded in obtaining new trials, would have been better off without them, as mr. bonham's verdict was always confirmed. five, ten, fifteen years ago, the society of singapore was much more agreeable than it is now. not that the parties who composed it then, were more pleasant people than the present residents; but we met oftener in those days, and were more sociable when we did meet, and, perhaps, opened our doors to the stranger oftener than is practised at the present time. one is apt, however, to be biassed in favour of the times and the people that seemed to ourselves the most agreeable; i shall therefore say no more on this delicate subject. the revenue of singapore is more than sufficient to pay its expenses: it arises principally from land-sales and land-tax; from farming out the privilege of retailing opium and spirits; from the rent paid for public markets; and from pawnbrokers' licenses. the sums derived from these sources are increasing every year. the local police are paid, and roads and bridges are maintained, from a fund raised by an assessed tax of eight per cent, on the annual value of fixed property. from this fund, mr. tom c---- withdraws a few thousand dollars occasionally, in order to build a new bridge or to make a new road; a proceeding that does not give entire satisfaction to the rate-payers, and is indeed hardly fair towards them, since the new bridges and roads render available large tracts of land that would otherwise be valueless, and for which tom c----'s honourable masters obtain a handsome price in consequence. the inhabitants grumble at these proceedings, but can do no more, the sole and whole management of the fund in question being in the hands of the local government. singapore is a free port; and vessels of all kinds and from all nations come and go, without paying one penny to government in any shape. all that is required of them is, to give in a list of the goods they either land or ship. this regulation is intended to enable the authorities to keep a correct statement of the trade of the place; but it is, i am sorry to add, often evaded by ship-masters and their consignees, who seem to think that no trade can be profitably conducted without a certain portion of mystery attaching to it. chapter v. dutch settlements. dutch settlement of rhio--island of banca-- bencoolen--padang--chinese slave-trade--native tribes of sumatra--pepper trade. in september , i visited china for the first time; but, having recently paid that country a much more extended visit, i shall reserve for a future chapter my observations upon chinese affairs; and shall now proceed to give an account of some of the smaller dutch colonies or settlements which i visited about this time. about forty miles to the eastward of singapore, on the island of bintang (star), is rhio, a small dutch settlement, producing a large quantity of gambia and some thirty thousand _peculs_ of black pepper per annum. the bulk of the former article finds its way to java, where it is extensively used for dying purposes. nearly all the pepper is sent to singapore in small trading-boats, and is bought up there for the london and calcutta markets. my visit to rhio lasted only thirty-six hours, during which time i was too busy to be able to look much about me; but i have since frequently sailed past the town, and through the beautiful strait of the same name, and can vouch for it, that the lovers of picturesque scenery will find objects in abundance to attract their attention. shortly after entering rhio straits from the southward, the navigator is completely land-locked, and appears to be sailing in a large lake, amid the richest possible scenery; nor can he discern the slightest appearance of an outlet from this fairy scene, till he is within half a mile of the west end of the island of luborn, when, all at once, the view opens at that part which leads him into the straits of singapore. rhio has the character of being very healthy, and, from its soil and position, might be rendered productive. it is governed by a dutch resident, and protected by a small garrison and fleet. of the activity of this little fleet against the neighbouring pirates, i am glad to be able to speak most favourably; and i am bound to add a word in testimony to its commander's hospitality and kindness to shipwrecked british seamen, which have been frequently put to the test of late years, and have on more than one occasion called forth from the singapore chamber of commerce a vote and letter of thanks. shortly after the establishment of singapore, the dutch government proclaimed rhio a free port. this measure, fortunately for us, was adopted rather too late in the day to do any injury to the trade of sir stamford raffles's pet settlement, or much good to its neighbour. it must be somewhat galling to the good folk of rhio, to see some hundreds of vessels of all descriptions under the dutch flag sail past their harbour every year, bound for singapore, where they transact business to a large amount; favouring this port, probably, with a short visit on their return, for the purpose of purchasing a few hundred _peculs_ of gambia for the java market. on the north-east point of bintang, is a dangerous reef, on which the clipper-bark sylph struck in , and on which she lay for four months, defying the fury of the north-east monsoon and the heavy rolling swell from the chinese sea; thus proving beyond a doubt the great strength of a teak-built ship. an english ship in the same circumstances would not have held together a week; as was subsequently proved in the case of the heber. mintow (muntok according to the dutch) is the capital of the island of banca, so long celebrated for its tin-mines. this is a poor town, and very unhealthy: it is situated on the west side of the island, and faces the straits of banca, having the low, swampy shore of sumatra opposite. when banca was occupied in common with the other dutch colonies by the british, it proved fatal to nearly the whole of the garrison. the banca fever is, perhaps, one of the most dangerous diseases with which man is afflicted: those who are fortunate enough to recover from it, are subject for life to severe nervous attacks at the full and change of the moon. i well remember two gentlemen in batavia, who could scarcely lift their hands to their heads at these periods, though twenty years had elapsed since they had had this terrible fever. the dutch troops still continue to suffer severely from this cause; and to be sent to banca from java, is looked upon as the hardest lot that can befall a soldier. its tin-mines continue to be very productive, and yield , _peculs_ of pure metal per annum. from this source, the dutch authorities derive a considerable revenue. they employ chinese miners, to whom they pay six dollars for every _pecul_ of tin delivered on the coast in a pure state, which they sell readily in java for sixteen dollars per _pecul_; thus getting ten dollars clear profit, less about half a dollar per _pecul_, which it costs to send the tin to batavia for sale. as far as i know, banca yields nothing else; and the rice eaten by the chinese miners, is sent regularly from java. the rivers on this island are infested by very large alligators, which, from the scarcity of food, become highly dangerous. their hunger drives them sometimes to attack boats, as they are rowed up the rivers; and serious accidents occur from time to time in this way. i could tell one or two marvellous tales about the ferocity and bold attacks of these river-monsters, but refrain from doing so, lest they should lead the incredulous reader of these rambling sketches to doubt my veracity. the straits of banca were at one time the resort of numerous malay pirates: the activity of the dutch cruisers has, however, rendered their once dangerous neighbourhood perfectly safe, so far as the attacks of these marauders are concerned. i have sailed many times through the straits of sunda, banca, rhio, dryan, malacca, and singapore, since , and have known some few european vessels and many native proas taken; but, in all my voyages up and down, i never saw a boat or proa that i felt certain was a pirate. i have, indeed, seen many very suspicious-looking craft off singin, and between that island and the north end of banca; but, as they never molested us, i am willing to let their characters pass free, so far as i am concerned. the once thriving settlement of bencoolen, (or fort marlborough,) which i visited at different times between and , i found, even then, to have declined very seriously from its former prosperity. previously to its transfer, in , to the dutch, great exertions were made to render this settlement important for its exportation of spices of all descriptions; and, so far as regards nutmegs, mace, and cloves, those exertions were eminently successful. planters and others, however, soon found that, on the hauling down of the british flag, and the hoisting of the dutch, their prospects underwent a very material change, arising from duties and other charges laid on the commerce of the place. most of the capitalists retired with the british establishment, of which, indeed, they formed a part. a hard struggle was maintained by those planters who remained behind, but without success; and the place is now very little more than a station for a dutch assistant-resident and a small garrison. bencoolen harbour is a dangerous one, particularly during the prevalence of the boisterous north-west monsoon, which blows with such violence on this part of the west coast of sumatra. ships generally anchor close under the lee of rat island and reef, where they find smooth water, unless the weather is unusually severe. this anchorage is seven miles from the wharf where merchandise is landed, and considerable risk is occasionally incurred by the cargo boats in making good this short distance. in very stormy weather, ships and boats also are compelled to seek shelter in pulo bay; a vile, unhealthy place situated about twelve miles south-east of rat island, and surrounded with a low, swampy, agueish-looking country. the siamese suffer severely in this harbour from fever and ague, and ship-masters are glad to leave it as soon as the weather moderates. in my time, there was a convenient covered wharf at bencoolen for landing goods, but not a vestige now remains: it was originally built by the english, and the dutch have not cared to preserve or replace it. in the present wretched state of the settlement, indeed, it is of trifling consequence, since little difficulty can be found by the few merchants from java who from time to time visit bencoolen, in landing the small quantities of goods they may have to dispose of. the climate of bencoolen is the worst it has been my fortune to encounter since i left europe. the land wind that sets in about seven p. m., is the most trying breeze i ever encountered. to sit in an open verandah when it is blowing, is quite out of the question; at least with impunity. i tried the experiment more than once, and never escaped without a severe seizure of trembling something like ague, within less than half an hour. the injurious effects of this land wind may be traced to the swamps between the hills in the vicinity of the town, which, unlike those of singapore, are formed by fresh water, and are no better than stagnant puddles. in passing over these, the wind becomes of course charged with malaria, which it distributes in every house between it and the sea; and woe betide the european who fails to keep out of its way! most places that i have visited, have a healthy, as well as an unhealthy season. bencoolen is an exception to this rule, being unhealthy all the year through. even vegetation suffers here from the south-east monsoon; and a nutmeg-plantation exposed to its dry, parching influence, has the appearance of a plantation of heather-brooms more than of any thing else.[ ] the natives do not appear to suffer from the climate, but seem to be as healthy and long-lived as asiatics generally. of the character of these natives, i can say little that is favourable. they are indolent, proud, though poor, gamblers, vindictive, and far too ready with the knife on little or no provocation; they are very fond of dress, and not over scrupulous how they gratify this taste; for which purpose i have known them have recourse to theft, lying, robbery, and even murder. had they one single spark of energy in their composition, they might be a thriving and contented people, possessing as they do a boundless extent of rich virgin soil, which they are too lazy to clear and cultivate. the place is overrun with a race of petty rajahs and other nobles, who are a social pest, being poor, and yet too proud to strain a nerve to support themselves and their families. sir stamford raffles succeeded in rousing the ambition of these men a little, by giving some of them commissions in the local corps, which gratified their taste for gay attire, and supplied them with a few hundred rupees per month to keep up a little state. from my sweeping reproach of the chiefs, i would except these _radins_[ ] with whom i have spent many pleasant evenings, and who really possessed gentleman-like feelings and tastes. [footnote : this remark applies to the side of the tree that faces the south-east only. the north-west side is perfectly healthy-looking and green, when its opposite is the very picture of blight and decay.] [footnote : radin, a noble next in rank, in the malay world, below a rajah.] the transfer of this settlement to the dutch (in exchange for malacca) in , was a severe blow and great disappointment to all the natives, both high and low. at a meeting of chiefs held at the government house, at which the english and dutch authorities were both present, for the purpose of completing the transfer, the senior rajah rose to address the assembly, and spoke to the following effect:--"against this transfer of my country i protest. who is there possessed of authority to hand me and my countrymen, like so many cattle, over to the dutch or to any other power? if the english are tired of us, let them go away; but i deny their right to hand us over to the dutch. when the english first came here, they asked for and got a piece of land to build warehouses and dwelling-houses upon. that piece of land is still defined by its original stone wall, and is all they (the english) ever got from us. we were never conquered; and i now tell the english and dutch gentlemen here assembled, that, had i the power, as i have the will, i would resist this transfer to the knife. i am, however, a poor man, have no soldiers to cope with yours, and must submit. god's will be done." this was a bold, straight-forward speech; but it was thrown away upon the callous ears of the hearers. delivered in pure malay, it sounded stronger than in this translation. the speaker was an old man, with whose power and will for mischief, in former days, the british had good cause to be acquainted.[ ] [footnote : this chief will long be remembered in bencoolen for his reckless daring, when a desire of vengeance for any insult, real or imaginary, stirred the devil within him. many a midnight murder was laid at his door, and with justice too, if i am not very much mistaken. the last time i saw him, he was very near his end, and spoke of his death as calmly and tranquilly as if he had lived the purest life imaginable. he is long since in his grave, and his family has sunk into insignificance. i do not believe a more thorough villain ever walked the earth.] the country round bencoolen is, with the exception of the spice-plantations, covered with a thick forest. the soil is rich, and, as i have said, might be turned to good account, by means of a small portion of energy on the part of the natives. the forests abound with the tiger and the elephant. the former finds plenty of game to feed on, and, consequently, seldom molests man. it is not an unusual occurrence for a single tiger to attack a herd of cattle when grazing in the neighbourhood of their owner's grounds: singling out his intended victim, he pursues it to the last, without, in general, attempting to injure any of the rest as soon as the cattle see or smell the approaching tiger, they become quite wild, and run at their full speed towards their herdsman, whom they surround apparently for their own protection, and continue in great commotion, though without attempting to run, till their enemy is either driven away, or has succeeded in capturing one of their number. the elephant is here of a large size, and is occasionally caught in snares by the natives for the sake of his tusks, which i have seen weighing one hundred and twenty pounds each. this huge animal is not dangerous to man, unless his path is crossed, when, particularly if a single male one, he becomes a formidable neighbour. he is easily tamed; but the native here is too indolent to trouble himself with the task. the only one i ever saw made use of, was sent by the king of acheen to sir stamford raffles, and was, in my time, the property of my friend, mr. robert bogle. strange stories are told of the power, sagacity, and cunning of this monarch of the woods. among other feats, the natives say, it is not uncommon for one elephant to lie down, and let another stand upon his back, in order that he may reach higher up a cocoa-nut tree, and have a better chance of pushing it down. i tell the tale as it was told to me, not caring to vouch for its truth. bencoolen is occasionally visited by the hill tribes from the mountains in its neighbourhood: they come down in bands of ten, fifteen, or twenty men, bringing with them gold-dust to barter for opium. as neither rice nor cocoa-nuts grow in the elevated region inhabited by them, they usually bring also a few bags of potatoes to exchange for those luxuries. they are a hardy race of men, strongly built, of middle stature, and have very thick black beards; a singular feature in an inhabitant of this island. i am sorry to add, that they sometimes visit the coast for other and less legitimate purposes than barter; and that their kidnapping children to make slaves of, is no uncommon occurrence. several instances of this kind took place in , within my certain knowledge. i have frequently heard it said, "go where you will, you are sure to find a rat and a scotchman." my having visited bencoolen enables me to contradict this aphorism; for i there found abundance of rats, one englishman, and not a single scot. i must confess, however, that this is the only place in which i have ever found the englishman without the scot. cock-fighting is carried on to a great extent here, and is indulged in by the natives, high and low. on market-days, vast numbers of natives may be seen wending their way to the cock-pit attached to each market or bazaar, with one of the celebrated malay game-cocks under their arms. at the pit, some hundreds of these birds may be seen in the hands of the fanciers, who weigh and examine them thoroughly before betting on them. as soon as the bets are arranged, the two birds first on the list are brought into the centre of the pit, and armed by their owners with a fearful spur about four inches long, of the shape of a scythe, and as sharp as a razor. the combat seldom lasts a minute, the first charge generally rendering one, and frequently both the combatants _hors-de-combat_, by inflicting on them mortal wounds. then begins the most disgusting part of the scene. the owner of each bird takes him up, blows into his mouth and eyes, and uses every exertion to make the poor tortured victim give the last peck to his adversary. failing this last peck, the battle is a drawn one. bets are usually paid, particularly in the country, in gold dust, which is weighed out in small ivory steelyards kept for the purpose. the dutch, with their usual policy, derive a revenue from every cock-pit within their boundary here. for my own part, i am not inclined to blame them, and think our revenue at all the three straits' settlements might be materially increased, and the scamps of those places kept in better order, by having every gambling-house in them registered and subjected to a tax. to put a stop to gambling in any asiatic town, is beyond the power of man; and the attempt to do so, only drives the gamester to the secret haunts where he may indulge his propensity, and where, i fear, too often he becomes a witness of, if not a participator in deeds of blood. as a grand juror in singapore, i have had evidence enough of this. from bencoolen, i proceeded to padang, another dutch settlement, about two hundred miles up the coast of sumatra. padang, as its name implies, is situated in a plain, and is a very few feet above the level of the sea; yet, it is a healthy place. it was once in possession of a considerable trade, but this has diminished of late years, in most articles, except coffee, of which i am told it now exports , _peculs_ per annum. the harbour or anchorage is about five miles from the mouth of the small river on the banks of which the town stands, and is a dangerous one in boisterous weather, having little or no protection from the fury of the north-west monsoon. the trade from java to this part of sumatra, consists principally of rice, salt, native clothing, and a few supplies for the european and chinese inhabitants of the place: in return, it sends coffee and pepper. there is a disgraceful traffic carried on between padang and the island of nias, a little further up the coast, by chinese, who visit that island, and purchase hundreds of its inhabitants, for whom they find markets all along the coast. those brought to padang, are not, indeed, sold as slaves; but they are registered at the resident's office, and held as bond-debtors for different terms of seven, fifteen, and even twenty years: during this servitude, they are treated as slaves, but are free at its expiration; they have also the option of buying their liberty in the meantime, if they can raise the means; and the proprietor is not at liberty to refuse a sum equivalent to the value of the unexpired term of service. this value is fixed thus: on the registering of a debtor, a certain sum is put down as his value or debt; say rupees; of this sum, a certain proportion, say rupees, is placed to his credit for every year he serves; so that, if he serves his master for five years, his debt is reduced to three hundred rupees; and this sum, the master is compelled to accept as the price of his liberation. if a debtor has a hard master, he is at liberty to induce another to buy his services; and the transfer cannot be declined, if the sum due is forthcoming. these nias people are, men and women, a much fairer race than malays, and speak a language of their own. many of the men become expert carpenters, bricklayers, blacksmiths, &c., which enables them to earn money and purchase their freedom; and for such skilled artisans, the master can demand no more as the price of their freedom than the balance due upon their services. i have seen boat-loads of these poor creatures landed at padang, consisting of old men, women, boys, girls, and mere infants, looking wretched enough, and marched off to the police-office to be registered and sold. this is a black spot in the dutch administration of affairs in sumatra. the proceedings of the dutch on the coast of sumatra, are a sore subject to the singaporeans, as having interfered with their trade with the north-west coast of the island. by means of the extension of the dutch posts from padang into the interior, they compel the native to carry his coffee thither, instead of taking it, as formerly, down the siak river, and thence to singapore. this accounts, in a great degree, for the increase in the export of that berry from padang, from thirty to sixty thousand _peculs_ per annum, between the year and . padang is very subject to frequent earthquakes, being surrounded with volcanic mountains. to look at its houses, one would think that a single shock would level the whole town. the best of them consist of a frame of wood, each post standing on a single stone, which is simply laid on the ground, not let into it; the vacancies between the posts and the cross-pieces of framework, are filled up with lath and plaster; and the roof is almost invariably of thatch. they resemble huge stools resting upon stones, to keep the legs from sinking into the earth, and look as if the first breeze would upset them. an earthquake shakes them, and makes them vibrate, but seldom or ever injures them; whereas a brick and mortar house, subjected to the same severe trial, would certainly give way, unless it were of very substantial workmanship. i have experienced several severe shocks of earthquakes, both here and at bencoolen, and at first felt very much disposed to quit the house; but custom reconciles one to almost every thing, even to seeing your dwelling-house dancing, or "jumping _jim crow_." since the dutch got possession of this part of sumatra, they have almost constantly been at war with a neighbouring tribe of natives, who, from their fanatical zeal in the cause of the mohammedan faith, have obtained the name of _padres_; and the war is called the _padre_ war. these men have occasioned the government a vast deal of trouble, and cost it a mint of money, as well as many valuable lives. when beaten in the field, they suddenly disperse and retreat to their mountain fastnesses, where they remain to strengthen themselves, and watch their opportunity to make a fresh attack on the dutch posts. in this manner they harass their opponents, and occasionally inflict upon them a very severe blow. i heard at padang, that, when the country was ceded to the dutch, in , these _padres_ had said, they would never submit to their power; and well have they kept their word. sumatra, were it under a european power, and peopled as well as java is, would soon rival that island. its soil is, for the most part, equally fertile, and yields coffee, pepper, nutmegs, &c. only a small portion of the territory is subject to the dutch: the remainder is inhabited by various tribes, who speak different languages, and mix but little together. they are mostly an indolent people, and require driving by their chiefs to make them work for a day or two now and then. the comparatively small produce exported from this large and fertile island, is obtained almost entirely by forced labour. the pepper trade of the ports to the northward of padang, has ceased to be a profitable one, and is now neglected. european shipmasters used to complain bitterly of the roguery practised upon them by the native dealers; but who taught the native his roguish tricks? who introduced false weights? who brought to the coast lb. weights with a screw in the bottom, which opened for the insertion of from ten to fifteen pounds of lead, _after their correctness had been tried by the native in comparison with his own weights_? who made it a regular rule, in their transactions with the native dealer, to get _catties_ of pepper to the _pecul_, thus cheating him of thirty per cent, of his property? i challenge contradiction, when i assert, that english and american shipmasters have for thirty years been addicted to all these dishonest practices. the cunning and deceit of the native traders, at the pepper ports of sumatra, have been taught them by their christian visiters, and forced upon them in self-defence. an acquaintance of mine, who had made some purchases from a native, went on shore next morning to receive the goods. when the pepper was being weighed, he told the native clerk, he was cheating. the man denied it, and told the party he lied. the european raised his fist, and threatened to chastise the native, who coolly put his hand on his ever-ready _kris_, and said, "strike, sir." the raised hand dropped to its owner's side, and well it was that it did so; or the party would not have lived to tell the tale of his having threatened the clerk of a sumatra rajah. a large portion of the pepper used to be paid for in dollars; and it is a singular fact, that, notwithstanding the number imported in this way, no one ever saw a single dollar exported, or seems to know what becomes of them. it is generally supposed, that the rajahs buy them, and that they often die without revealing where their treasure is deposited. be this as it may, it is very difficult, under any circumstances, to extract a dollar from the chiefs of this coast. the trader in this part of the world, works hard for whatever he may earn, having to encounter much severe weather, and to go through a heavy surf every time he lands. indeed, so heavy and dangerous is the surf, that few ships' boats are fit to go through it. the shipmaster generally rows to the back of it in his own boat, and obtains one from the shore to land in. of this, the native does not fail to take advantage in the event of any dispute, knowing that his customer cannot leave the shore without a boat, to be had only through his influence; and it is no uncommon thing for the european to be detained all night, and made to settle accounts in the morning before going off. the coast of sumatra, from acheen head to flat point,(its two extremes in this direction,) is a highly dangerous one, being iron-bound, with a heavy surf and many reefs off it. i envy not the man who has to make his voyage here against the north-west monsoon. the dutch are extending their ports on the sea-board from padang northward, and will ere long reach acheen head; when they will have a struggle, if the acheenese people possess a moderate portion of their ancient gallantry and hatred of europeans.[ ] [footnote : since my return home, i have seen an account of the proceedings of two of her majesty's sloops on the coast of sumatra from acheen eastward. sir w. parker, with his usual promptitude, sent them there from penang, to punish the perpetrators of some acts of piracy lately committed on british vessels. the service has been most effectually performed; and the marauding native has been taught, that, distant as he may be, punishment is the certain result of meddling with the flag of england. the ships of war in and about the straits of malacca, would do much good to the commerce of their country by an occasional visit to acheen and the coast of pedir. there is nothing like the sight of a few eighteen-pounders for keeping the domineering malay rajah in check.] chapter vi. malacca and penang. malacca, which i first visited in , and have repeatedly revisited, is completely shorn of its ancient glory, and is no longer of the slightest importance, either as a military position or as a trading mart. penang, at one end of the straits, and singapore at the other, have destroyed its prosperity; and it is now a poverty-stricken place, with little or no trade. the town is built in the old dutch fashion, each house with its out-offices forming a square with a yard in the centre. the government offices are still held in the ancient stadt-house, a venerable pile built by the worthy dutch burghers some hundred and fifty years ago, and retaining to this day its ancient furniture of ebony, many pieces of which, by the way, have lately supplied patterns for modern sofas and other furniture. the european population is composed almost entirely of the civil servants of the government and the military men, who reside principally in the immediate neighbourhood of the town, not liking their malay neighbours well enough to feel inclined to spread far into the country. some few attempts have been made, within the last fifteen years, to establish nutmeg and other plantations at malacca; i fear, without much success. not that the trees do not thrive, but that labour is scarce, owing to the prevailing indolence of the people in this part of the world. moreover, occasional disturbances among the natives render a residence on the spot (without which little success can be expected) any thing but pleasant. the place is a burthen to the east-india company, as its revenues do not pay half its expenses. the country round malacca is mountainous, and covered with large timber. in its neighbourhood are several tin-mines, which yield a metal some twenty per cent. inferior to that of banca. this tin finds its way, like every thing else in the archipelago, to singapore, where it has of late fetched only thirteen dollars and a half _per pecul_. there is a race of men at malacca, who appear to be the descendants of some natives of malabar who settled there a century ago, and malay women; a bad breed certainly, and the men i speak of seem to possess all the _devilry_ of both races. numbers of them visit singapore from time to time, bringing among other things, thousands of the malacca canes which are so much esteemed in england. they have other employments, if fame does not belie them, not quite so creditable to their characters. here, also, may be found many descendants of the old portuguese inhabitants, who have here, as elsewhere all over the east, degenerated sadly, and, but for their dress, could not be distinguished from the other natives, except that the latter are a much finer race. these portuguese are, for the most part, wretchedly poor, and, apparently, will soon become extinct. very few of the descendants of the old dutch inhabitants are to be found here now: those still remaining are principally shopkeepers, and are much more respectable in every way than their portuguese fellow subjects. slavery, until lately, existed in a domestic form in malacca; it has, however, been completely done away with through the representations and exertions of the late governor, mr. bonham. malacca forms a pretty picture from the sea, and, to the passer-by, seems an attractive spot: his disappointment, on landing, however, would be great, and few inducements to prolong his stay will be found, excepting the climate. this, to the invalid from bengal, is a treat, on which i have heard many expatiate in glowing terms after their return, with renewed health, to calcutta. penang, or prince of wales island, is, perhaps, the most beautiful of the three straits settlements, though it is certainly not the most salubrious, being occasionally visited by a very severe fever, which, in my time, carried off many of the european inhabitants.[ ] [footnote : at this moment, i cannot recal to recollection a single existing resident of penang who has not arrived there since . the europeans of that time have all, or nearly all, been removed by death.] here, the nutmeg and the clove come to perfection; and the produce of penang commands higher prices in the london market, than the spice of any other country with which i am acquainted. the estates of mr. brown are the finest on the island; and the hospitality of their proprietor is unsurpassed. of late years, the profits of spice-plantations have become somewhat precarious, as the supply in the european markets has exceeded the demand. this has turned the attention of several of the leading people on the island to the sugar-cane, which thrives here well, and is now to be seen covering large tracts which very recently were lying waste. the sugar-planter here, however, labours under the same disadvantage, as to import-duty in england, as his brother planter of singapore, which, if not altered, will mar his prospects. strong representations on the subject have been made to the bengal government, and (i believe) to the court of directors, as yet without effect. the revenue of penang is derived from the same sources as that of singapore, but falls short of the annual expenses of the place. this may be accounted for by the falling off in its trade, and the decrease in its population, since the establishment of the last-named settlement. it still retains a considerable trade with sumatra, the coast of coromandel, and calcutta, but its direct trade with england is almost entirely cut up. it is also the _dépôt_ for the tin collected at junkseylon, and other places on the malay coast immediately opposite. altogether, however, the establishment of singapore has very much injured penang, and thinned its population, rendering its houses of little or no value, and giving to its streets a deserted appearance from which they will never recover. the plain on which the town stands, is bounded on two sides by the sea, and, beyond the town, is dotted over with pretty garden-houses: it is intersected in all directions by good roads, which are lined throughout with the prettiest of all hedges, composed of the dwarf bamboo. beyond this plain, the country becomes hilly and covered with woods, except a spot here and there, where the spice-planter has made his clearing, and built his bungalow. on the tops of several of these hills, which are higher and more extensive than those of singapore, may be seen bungalows for convalescents, approachable only by a bridle path, up which the stout little poneys of the island carry bravely the health-seeking or pleasure-seeking party. these spots are delightful residences; and the climate is cool enough at night to make a blanket on the bed most welcome and comfortable, i have my doubts whether these are fit places for the invalid to resort to, particularly if his complaint be of a pulmonary nature. immediately after sun-set, the hill top is enveloped in a dense fog, which makes every thing in the house feel damp, and which does not disappear till ten a. m. next day. it were worth while to ride up one of these hills, for the sole purpose of watching the clearing off of the fog in the morning: the visiter taking his stand in the verandah about nine a. m., and looking down, in the direction of the plain, on the dense mass of fog hanging over the town and suburbs, sees it by degrees clear away like a curtain slowly withdrawn, and the houses, roads, bridges, &c., appear below him as if springing up there by magic. add to this, the fleet of shipping in the harbour, the opposite plains of province wellesley, and the distant mountains towering in the sky beyond, and a scene may be imagined, that can scarcely be described; at least, not by my feeble pen. when i first visited penang, province wellesley was a wilderness, inhabited only by a thin malay population and numerous tigers.[ ] it now wears another and more pleasing aspect, large tracts of its fertile soil having been cleared and brought under cultivation. i know no better spot for the culture of sugar; and if it does not pay the planter here, those of penang or singapore have but a poor prospect.[ ] penang harbour is a very commodious and safe one, formed by the narrow strait between that island and the main land. ships of three hundred tons may here lie within pistol-shot of the wharf in perfect safety. i have never seen the phosphoric light occasionally thrown out by salt-water, so brilliant as it is here. i recollect being very much struck with it, while sailing out of the harbour about eight o'clock p. m. we had a fresh breeze, and each tiny wave looked like a flash of very bright flame, while the ship's wake resembled the tail of a brilliant comet, more than any thing else. i leave the naturalist to account for this. [footnote : although the jungles of penang abound with tigers, i have seldom heard of their preying on man, as they do in the neighbouring settlement.] [footnote : oct. .--penang has increased in importance since the foregoing was written. its sugar-planters have continued their exertions with energy, sparing neither trouble nor expense to make their plantations profitable investments. it gives me much pleasure to be able to add, that their success seems certain, and that their perseverance in petitioning government on the subject of duties, has at length been rewarded, as it ought sooner to have been.] chapter vii. calcutta. first view of calcutta--state of society-- mercantile changes--unpleasant climate--sights at and near calcutta--improvements in transit and navigation--custom-house nuisance--pilot service--character of the bengalees--river steamers. in , i visited for the first time the far-famed city of calcutta, and have since then paid it four visits. so much, however, has been written about the "city of palaces," that it must be nearly as well known to the english reader as london itself; and i shall therefore say less respecting it. the feeling i experienced on first making the land at the mouth of the hooghly, was extreme disappointment. to a stranger coming, as i did, from java, singapore, and penang, nothing can have a more dreary and desolate appearance than the land about and below kedgeree. the very sight is almost enough to bring on the ague; and the abominably filthy water of the holy stream heightens the feeling of disgust. from kedgeree to diamond harbour, the view on the low banks of the river improves but little. above diamond harbour, the river banks are somewhat higher, buildings are more numerous, and the country appears more cleared and brought under cultivation. on arriving at garden reach, the stranger may begin to imagine that not wholly without reason calcutta has acquired the proud title of the "city of palaces." from the lower part of this reach, on the right, the river bank is laid out in large gardens, each with a handsome mansion in its centre; and the whole scene speaks of opulence and splendour. of late years, these magnificent residences have been much neglected, and what was once the most fashionable part of the suburbs, has been nearly deserted by the great folk. the reason assigned for this, is, that the river, in very wet seasons, overflows its banks, breeding malaria and fever, from which, at the time of my second visit, the inhabitants suffered not a little. for a year or two, these mansions stood empty; but, when i last saw them, in , they were nearly all occupied by mercantile men, who find them pleasant retreats from the bustle of the city, and seem willing to brave the chance of fever. on approaching the head of garden reach, the stranger all at once beholds fort william and the town of calcutta spread out before him; and a splendid view it is. should he arrive in the month of november or december, he will behold, perhaps, the finest fleet of merchant shipping the world could produce. here are seen, besides the flag of old england, those of america, france, holland, spain, portugal, and arabia. i must not forget to mention the floating taverns or large passenger ships, which carry home from twenty to forty passengers every voyage; and besides the fleet of large ships, the river presents steamers, pleasure-boats, and native craft of all sorts and sizes, from the gay _budgerow_, to the wretched and more than half rotten _dhingy_. the scene has, however, its drawbacks. the stranger is shocked and disgusted at the sight of some half-dozen dead bodies floating down the river, in all stages of decomposition, some with a vulture perched on them, gorging himself as he floats down the stream on his hideous raft. government has placed people above the town, for the express purpose of sinking dead bodies and similar nuisances; but they have not succeeded in effecting their object the last time i went up the river, four human corpses passed my boat between kradd's dock and colvin's grant, a distance of two miles. nothing strikes the stranger, on landing for the first time in calcutta, so much as the extraordinary aggregation of palaces and mansions, ordinary dwelling-houses, warehouses, shops, bazaars, stables, huts, and hovels, all mingled together in glorious confusion, a few streets forming the only exception. this is a great eye-sore even to the old resident. i know no part of the world where society is divided into so many ranks and classes as it is here, nor where pride and pomp hold their heads higher. to hear some of the great ones of this city talk, you would think they had sprung from a long line of princely, or, at least, of noble ancestors. it is often observed, however, that they seldom or never mention their immediate progenitors, nor the whereabouts of their birth-place, which, in nine cases out of ten, would be found to be some humble cottage on the bank of a modest brook in england, or burn in scotland. the more obscure or lowly their origin, the more difficult of access they are generally found. the real gentleman is easily discovered by his superior breeding and genuine urbanity. in former days, a young man arriving at calcutta as a writer, had no difficulty in raising money by borrowing from some wealthy _circar_; and many of those very young men are still hampered with debts they can never pay: though high in office, and enjoying large salaries, they are tied to the country by their creditors, to whom they are obliged to give a large portion of their earnings. times have now changed, and the native has learned from dear-bought experience, that the european is not always so worthy of confidence as he at one time thought him. when i first knew calcutta, some half-dozen mercantile firms swayed the trade of the place, and carried every thing before them. their influence with the monied natives was great, and their command of ready cash was proportionably large. this led them into all sorts of wild speculations, and ultimately proved their ruin, the whole of these houses having failed (if my memory does not deceive me) before the end of . in spite of these failures, (which ruined hundreds of widows and orphans,) the confidence of the natives was not utterly shaken till very recently, when another batch of similar misfortunes took place, in which many of the old hands were concerned under new firms. this has entirely broken up the system, and scattered the commerce of calcutta among numerous smaller establishments, setting the wits of the native capitalist to work to find other employment for his cash. many of them have entered upon the opium trade, principally as speculators on the spot, who buy at the public sales, and re-sell at a small profit; preferring this to running the risk of the china market. previously to the mercantile break-up just mentioned, the members of the leading firms were, with few exceptions, as exclusive in their society as the leading civilians: their fall has upset these lofty pretensions, and the mercantile society of the place is much improved in consequence. for the hospitality of calcutta i cannot say much; nor do i know a place where a friendless stranger landing without good introductory letters, would meet with a more chilling reception. i do not speak from experience, having fortunately been properly provided with credentials; but i do not say it without good authority. of the hospitality of the military gentlemen of the presidency, and especially of the dum dum artillery, i have pleasure in reporting more favourably. calcutta has its theatre, its clubs, its races, and its fox-hounds. on the race-course may be seen some fine specimens of the arab horse, small compared to the english racer, but unsurpassed for spirit and symmetry. its amusements and attractions, however, are so outweighed by its wretched climate, that i would rather pass my days growing sugar in singapore, than live amid all the splendour of this proud city. from april to october inclusive, the weather is oppressively hot, with a closeness in the atmosphere that renders respiration difficult, and existence, without a punkah, almost insupportable. i have sat for days suffering from the heat, and longing for sun-set in hope of relief which never came; for, even through the long night, the thermometer did not fall one degree. this extreme heat is occasionally relieved by a thunder-storm accompanied with a deluge of rain, which clears the atmosphere, cools the burning soil, and renders breathing an easy process. the european inhabitants have many ways of rendering the interior of their dwellings cooler than the external air; but, with all their means and appliances, they are generally terribly exhausted before bed-time comes. during this period, the european lady suffers more than the gentleman, and, by the time the cold weather approaches, looks haggard and woebegone. children also suffer much during the summer. in november, the weather becomes cool, and people begin to think of balls and other gayeties. the winter, however, is not, in my opinion, a healthy season, as the bills of mortality will indicate. a heavy fog then settles over the city and neighbourhood every night, through which, at sun-rise, one can hardly see ten yards, producing not a bracing cold, but a chilling damp. this does not last all day, for the heat is severe from ten a. m. till three p. m., even in mid-winter. the lower class of natives suffer much, and great numbers die during this season of the year, as they are very careless, bathe in the river daily as usual, and are too poor to make any change in their dress, which is far from sufficient to protect them from the damp nights. the wealthier native wraps his shoulders in an ample cashmere shawl; but even he leaves his legs and the lower half of his person with only summer clothing. during the autumn, calcutta is a very gay place, and makes up for its dullness during the summer. this is the season for horse-racing, hunting, shooting, and theatrical amusements, into which the numerous indigo-planters who come to town from their plantations about this time, enter with spirit, if the crops have been good and prices fair. among the sights in and around calcutta, i would recommend the visiter to make a point of seeing, the mint, the native bazaars, the dum dum artillery station, the ishapoor gunpowder manufactory, and mr. wakefield's farm at acra. i mention these as having been myself gratified with examining them. the mint is, perhaps, the finest in the world. captain (now colonel) forbes, who kindly shewed me over every part of it, said, i think, they could turn out , coins in twenty-four hours. in the different bazaars, the stranger will find the most extraordinary collection of commodities, indian, european, american, chinese, and of other countries, that he could ever have conceived. the zeal of the different vendors in crying up and bepraising their own goods at the expense of their neighbours, will amuse him, while he will feel not a little surprised at the cheapness of many european articles, such as crockery, millinery, hosiery, &c. &c. should he be a military man, his visit to dum dum will delight him, that station being the head-quarters of the bengal artillery, and its officers are celebrated for their kindness and hospitality to strangers. with my visit to ishapoor, i had every reason to be pleased. i not only saw the whole process of powder-manufacture on a very large scale, but met with a hearty welcome from major timbrel, of the artillery, who at that time superintended the establishment. the river scenery near ishapoor is much superior to what it is lower down; and a good view of the pretty town of chinsurah,[ ] on the opposite bank of the hooghly, is commanded from major timbrel's verandah. acra farm is situated some twelve or fifteen miles below calcutta. i visited it as a stranger, while waiting in a ship for the flood tide; and its proprietor gave me a most hospitable reception. mr. wakefield has completely established the practicability of curing meat all through the year in this climate, so as to keep at sea for three years. he told me, he killed , hogs per annum; and, on my asking whether he suspended operations during the hot months, his reply was, "no, we go on at all seasons." i can vouch for the goodness of the hams, bacon, sausages, lard, &c. &c., which he exports, and shall be very glad if these remarks should lead a purchaser to his door. the muddy creeks near acra farm swarm with alligators, (whether attracted by the smell of blood or not, i cannot say,) and they occasionally become very troublesome. the day before my visit, mr. wakefield had had a mortal combat with one sixteen feet long, which he succeeded in destroying single-handed, and had brought home in proof of his prowess. [footnote : chinsurah was, until , a dutch settlement; and we then obtained it and malacca in exchange for bencoolen.] one of the most remarkable objects in or near calcutta, is the celebrated banian-tree in the east-india company's botanical garden on the banks of the hooghly, immediately opposite garden reach. this tree is, without exception, the most splendid vegetable production i ever saw: and its immense size and great age may be judged of, when i mention, that a friend in whom i place the utmost confidence told me, he measured the circumference of the space it shaded at noon-day, and found that, allowing eighteen inches square per man, there was sufficient room for eighteen thousand men to stand under the shade of this venerable patriarch of the forest. this could be effected, however, only by removing the many stems of the tree which now occupy nearly the whole space covered by the branches, and are so numerous and thick, that it is impossible to trace the parent one. it is a mighty tree, and worthy of the proud place it occupies in the first botanical garden in the world. what a wonderful change a few short years bring about in these days of improvement! when i first knew calcutta, there was no such thing as an overland conveyance for letters; and, as for sending a ship to china against the monsoon, no one ever dreamed of it. the whole world is now a witness of the regularity of the monthly communication with england _viâ_ the red sea; and the passage to and from china is made at all seasons of the year, in defiance of monsoons and all other impediments. the spirited owner and commander of the barque, "red rover," has the credit of first shewing to the world, that the north-east monsoon in the chinese sea was to be conquered by perseverance in a small vessel: his success exceeded, i believe, his own sanguine expectations, and it is pleasing to add, that he was amply rewarded in a pecuniary point of view for his exertions. his example was soon followed by other parties connected with the opium-trade; and the communication between china, calcutta, and bombay is now regularly kept up all the year through, by as fine a fleet of clippers as ever rode the sea, commanded by men who appear to defy the weather. they make their passages in a wonderfully short period of time, and stand high in the opinion of the mercantile community of india. they are well paid, as they deserve to be, for the trying work they have to go through; and many of them have recently returned to their native country with comfortable, if not ample independencies. another improvement of great importance to the trade of calcutta, is the facility with which powerful steamers can now be procured, to tow ships up and down the hooghly. any one who has gone up and down this river, must be aware of the dangerous nature of its navigation, owing to the many mud banks, shifting sands, and very rapid current; and must be sensible of the comfort of having a powerful steamer towing ahead. the saving of time by leaving the port under steam, is immense. i remember, on one occasion, overtaking, in thirty-six hours from town, two ships that had left three weeks before us. the number of lives saved every year by these steamers, is beyond calculation. this is now so well understood, that passengers make a point of ascertaining whether a steamer is to be employed, before taking their passage in any ship; and the under-writers willingly contribute towards the expense thus incurred, considering themselves as repaid by the great saving in what is called "river risk." i have heard many complaints against dutch custom-houses, but the customs in calcutta, i can state from my own knowledge, are far more troublesome and unreasonable. go to any dutch custom-house in netherlands india, and produce your invoice through some known agent; your goods will be cleared and passed without further trouble. at calcutta, no man's word is taken, but every package landed or shipped must actually _pass through_ the custom-house. even opium purchased from government, and delivered to the purchaser from a government warehouse, is subjected to this annoying process. surely the authorities might allow merchandize purchased from themselves, and delivered from their own premises, to be taken direct to the wharf, and put on board ship. a custom-house officer might accompany the drug, if it was deemed necessary, and see it fairly afloat before leaving it. the present arrangement involves a useless waste of the merchant's time and trouble. the semaphore established from kedgeree to calcutta, is of very great advantage to the shipping interest of the place. any vessel getting on shore, or coming from sea in distress, can send intelligence of her situation to town in fifteen minutes, and have a steamer down to aid her in twelve hours. it would hardly be fair to leave calcutta without saying a word in praise of the pilot service. the pilots here are paid by government, and are a highly respectable body of men: they enter the service when very young, as volunteers, and rise by degrees to the rank of masters and branch pilots, the latter being the highest grade. branch pilots generally command pilot brigs, which cruise off the mouth of the hooghly for the purpose of supplying vessels that come from sea with pilots to take them up the river, and of taking the pilots out of ships bound to sea. master pilots, mates, and second mates are engaged in taking vessels out and in, while the youngsters are employed in heaving the lead, and studying the navigation of the rivers. the whole service is remarkably well conducted. the work undergone by its members is very hard during the south-west monsoon; and they are generally short-lived. this may be easily accounted for, in such a climate, by their constant exposure to heat and rain, to say nothing of gales of wind and frequent sound duckings from the spray of the sea. the natives of bengal are not favourites of mine: they are much given to lying and thieving, and are sad cowards. it is true, they are not pirates, like the malays; but this is owing, i suspect, to want of courage, more than of inclination. a malay servant, should his master threaten to strike him, will say: "cut my pay, sir, or turn me away if i am in fault, but (emphatically) don't strike me." a bengalee, under similar circumstances, would cringe under his master's feet, _salaam_ to the ground, beg to be whipped, but "oh," would be his cry, "don't cut my pay, sir." nothing used to annoy me so much as this excessive servility of the bengalee servants: they will do any thing for _pice, pice_; that word being repeated by them at least ten times oftener than any other in their vocabulary. with all this, they are lazy, and require more looking after than any other servants i know. they certainly work for little pay, but that little is sufficient to supply their families with the necessaries of life, and to leave a trifle to put by, if the head of the family does not gamble. the palanquin-bearers are the most useful men to a stranger: for thirty-five rupees ( l. s.) he will get a palanquin and six men who will carry him all over the town, a whole month, for that trifling sum; they will take him out in an evening, wait patiently in the street till he is ready to return home, and be at his door by six the next morning, ready to obey his orders. the _circar_, too, is a useful character, but, generally, a sad scamp: he will conduct the stranger all over this vast city, shew him where any thing is to be had, pay his bills for him, and save him a world of trouble; which he makes answer his purpose by deducting one _pice_, or about two per cent, from every rupee you may order him to pay for you, and by charging a _moderate_ per-centage on what he may be commissioned to procure for "master." it is astonishing how quickly these _circars_ find out when an old customer or "master" returns to calcutta. i have been visited by mine within an hour after reaching town. in one instance, i had come up the river in an express boat, and had arrived as soon as the mail; but, presently, in came master's _circar_, bowing low, and "hoping master has had a pleasant voyage, and made too much money." the mighty current of the sacred ganges is now thoroughly conquered by all-powerful steam; and the indian officer ordered up the river to join his corps, can now perform in three weeks, the journey that, fifteen years ago, would have taken him as many months. never having travelled in the river steamers, i can say nothing about the voyage; but, from their being constantly filled with passengers and cargo, i presume they give entire satisfaction. the fact of their carrying the european traveller so much more rapidly than the native boats can do, through the unhealthy sunderbunds, is of itself sufficient to induce every wayfarer to take advantage of them. chapter viii. new south wales. voyage from singapore to sydney--port jackson--first impressions produced by sydney--the public-house nuisance--sydney juries--cattle dealers--town improvements--lawyers, doctors, and clergy. circumstances induced me, in the early part of , to proceed to new south wales, where i passed three years; at the expiration of which i returned to the straits in much better health than i had enjoyed for years before. the voyage from singapore to sydney, _viâ_ java head and bass's straits, occupies generally from sixty to seventy days; a much longer period than it ought to do, considering the distance, but much time and space are lost in getting southward from java head. crossing the south-east trade-wind, a ship makes nearly as much westing as she does southing, and of course has all the former to run back again on getting the westerly winds in the latitude of ° to ° south. we were unfortunate in this part of our voyage, and got no westerly winds till we reached the forty-first parallel of south latitude: from that point they took us to within a few miles of the entrance to bass's straits, where we met a strong easterly gale, which detained us several days. this was in march; and i would advise ships bound from india to new south wales, in the month of january, february, or march, to go to the southward of van diemen's land altogether: they will thus carry the strong westerly winds longer, avoid the easterly gales that blow during these months in bass's straits, and probably shorten their passage ten or twelve days. up the bold and iron-bound shore of this mighty island, from its south-east promontory to the heads of port jackson, we ran with a strong southerly gale, and entered the most magnificent of harbours after a seventy days' passage. the entrance into port jackson is between two rocky heads, called, the north and south head. as the former projects rather further into the pacific than the latter, and somewhat overlaps it, the stranger would have some difficulty in finding his port, were it not for the light-house on the south head; but, even with this guide, the inexperienced eye cannot perceive the entrance till right opposite it. we ran in with a heavy sea outside, and had scarcely got a ship's length inside the heads, when we were in water as smooth as a mill-pond. the steep black rocks on our right looked fearfully near to us, but the water is deep close to them, and no difficulty is experienced in beating up to sydney cove, a distance of six miles. the only danger in the way is a shoal or reef, bearing the strange name of the "sow and pigs": on it, however, there is a light-vessel, so that it may be safely passed, even at night. were all the fleets in the world congregated in port jackson, they would not half occupy it. from the heads to a mile above sydney cove, there is a succession of beautiful bays, with deep water close to the rocks, and good anchorage in all directions. the scenery is magnificent, though, to an eye accustomed to that of singapore, the green is not quite brilliant enough. a succession of hill and dale, with here and there a neat cottage perched on some rocky point, the soil clothed with trees, the waters of the many bays glistening in the sun, and the distant view of the heights and windmills beyond sydney, form a picture that can scarcely be surpassed. on landing in sydney, the traveller from india is ready to exclaim, surely this is not a town some seventeen thousand miles from england! every thing reminds him of home: he sees english servants, english tradesmen, english shops; in a word, a regular english town, with its inns and every thing conducted on the english principle. i took up my quarters with my family at the pulteney hotel, where we were made very comfortable, and found the terms moderate: the only thing that disappointed us was, the smallness of the bed-rooms. sydney is a regularly built town, its spacious streets running at right angles with each other. the houses are well built, close to each other, with narrow fronts, and generally three stories high. here we have george street, prince's street, king street, pitt street, hyde park, the surrey hills,--all recalling, by their appellations, the mother country. hyde park, though it comes far short of its namesake in london, is nevertheless a very pleasant spot for a promenade, being nicely shaded by trees planted during sir r. bourke's government, and is an ornament to the town. "government domain" is a piece of ground in the rear of the governor's house, reserved by government for a garden and pleasure-grounds: it is tastefully laid out, and intersected with numerous walks, which are open to the public; and many a pleasant party is formed by the industrious classes, who have only sunday to spare for a little recreation in the open air. the surrey hills are being fast covered with gentlemen's houses, for which a better situation could scarcely be chosen. _woolloomoolloo_, or darlinghurst, as it is now called, is the favourite suburb, and boasts of many handsome mansions, each with its garden. among these are the respective residences of the chief-justice, the bishop of australia, and other members of the _élite_ of this metropolis. these houses all command a fine view of the harbour with its shipping and the surrounding scenery. sydney has its theatre, its club-house, its stage and mail coaches, while steamers ply all about the harbour, and up and down the coast; an immense convenience to the inhabitants of the northern districts of the colony. it has a large and well-supplied market, where the gardeners, farmers, &c. from the neighbourhood collect their produce for sale, and where, in good seasons, (that is, seasons in which rain has been abundant,) the housekeeper may procure supplies on reasonable terms. there is also, immediately outside the town, a hay and cattle market, where large herds of cattle and flocks of sheep are constantly for sale, and generally find ready buyers among the numerous emigrants who are daily landing on these shores. the greatest drawback upon the prosperity of the lower orders in sydney, arises from the public-houses, of which there are some three hundred, nearly all filled, from morning to night, with men and women, too often spending the last penny they possess in the world. the magnitude of this evil may be estimated from the fact, that, in , the revenue derived from ardent spirits and public-house licences amounted to the enormous sum of , l. sterling. no stranger can take a walk through sydney without remarking with astonishment the number of these nuisances; and the list of drunkards exhibited at the police every monday morning, will increase his surprise and disgust. so enormous is this evil on the sabbath-day, that bands of constables patrole the streets for the purpose of clearing them of drunken men and women, whom they consign to the "lock-up." these constables, by the way, are extremely brutal in their manner of handling any unfortunate wight that may fall into their hands; and i have been frequently disgusted at their barbarity. what better conduct, however, can be expected from men, nine-tenths of whom either are or have been convicts? when i was at sydney, the jail was a most wretched place, not half large enough for the many unfortunate beings it had occasionally to receive. a more commodious one has since been erected, with space enough to allow of the separate classification of debtors, highway robbers, bush-rangers, and felons, which could not be always attended to in the old building. the jail is cleared four times a year by holding criminal courts. the calendar is usually very heavy, and the crimes are generally of a heinous nature. the prisoner has the privilege of choosing whether he will be tried by a civil or by a military jury. many prefer the latter, knowing that, whatever the verdict may be, it will be a conscientious one. the civil jury is generally composed of publicans, and is always chosen by the sydney scamps, in the hope that a _chum_ or _pal_ may be found in the list, which is not unfrequently the case. the hardest task the attorney-general has to perform, is, to get together a respectable jury. when it is composed of civilians, the prisoner is sure to challenge every respectable man in the box. by this means, he generally succeeds in getting twelve men sworn, of whom two or three are of the stamp he requires,--men that will, in vulgar phrase, "swear through a six-inch plank" to get him off. it is no uncommon case for sydney jurors, on retiring to consider their verdict, to exclaim that their minds are made up, and that they will be d----d if they will give a verdict of guilty. another source of trouble to all persons concerned with a court of justice here, is the extreme difficulty experienced in extracting truth from witnesses. it is almost impossible to conceive the effrontery with which nine-tenths of these men will swear any thing: they invariably prevaricate and contradict themselves when cross-examined, and are not unfrequently sent from the witness-box to prison, to take their trial for perjury. i remember, on one occasion, seeing a father, mother, and three grown-up daughters, who came into court to sustain a charge against a farmer for an assault on one of the daughters, committed for perjury, while the prisoner was released without a stain on his name. the crime of cattle-stealing, probably, comes oftener before the judges of new south wales than any other, particularly since the punishment for it has been changed from death to banishment for life. when death was the penalty, many graziers put up with their loss, rather than prosecute the offender: now, the cattle-stealer is shewn no mercy, from one end of the colony to the other. the judge has no discretionary power with this class of offenders, but, in the event of a verdict of guilty, must pass the sentence of banishment for life. if the prisoner came free to the colony, he is banished to van diemen's land: if, on the other hand, he is an old convict, he is sent to rusticate for the remainder of his days on norfolk island. whole droves of stolen cattle are, nevertheless, continually offered for sale in the neighbourhood of sydney, and ready purchasers are found for them, the risk of being brought up as a receiver not being so great as might be supposed. the regular cattle-stealer has stations in the bush, where he collects his ill-gotten herds, defaces and alters their brands, and keeps them till the new brand has healed and assumed the usual appearance; he then boldly starts for market in open day, and, though he may be met by the former owners of the beasts he is driving, he fears nothing, proof of identity being a difficult task, when a p has been made into a b, and, perhaps, three or four other brands have been added. during the administration of sir richard bourke, great improvements were made in the streets of sydney, particularly in the direction of the different wharfs, from which the ascent used to be frightfully steep. to remedy this evil, and at the same time to improve the appearance of the town, sir richard cut away the brows of the ridges, and filled up the hollows with the rubbish. this proceeding caused a great outcry among those persons who had property where the cuttings took place, and whose dwellings, in some cases, were many feet above the new level of the street. in the course of time, these proprietors descended from their airy posts, knocked down their old unsightly tenements, cut down their ground to the proper level, and built new and more sightly houses; so that the governor's proceedings have improved both the streets and the general appearance of the town, as well as enhanced the value of the property wherever the cuttings were made. sydney abounds with doctors, lawyers, and parsons, all of whom thrive here. the lawyer especially reaps a rich harvest among a population notoriously fond of litigation, and prone to give cause for it in various ways. as usual, however, the supply has of late exceeded the demand; and the barristers do not now lounge in such stylish carriages as they were accustomed to be seen in some years ago. the medical men's harvest, a sickly season, is not a rare occurrence in sydney, though the colony generally is remarkable for its salubrity. the last summer i spent there, the deaths were very numerous, and cast a gloom over the place. influenza and fevers were the prevailing complaints, and were probably attributable to the dry, hot winds prevalent at the time, together with the badness of the water in common use, and the intemperate habits of the people. the want of a supply of good water is much felt. every house has its pump, but the water is not fit for any thing but washing, and is, for the most part, so hard, that soap will not dissolve in it. government had commenced laying pipes to supply the town with this necessary article; but, when i left the colony, they had not been brought nearer than to within a mile; and i have not heard of their being since carried any further. water-carts go round, selling water at a penny or sometimes three halfpence per bucket, which is of a good quality. previously to the arrival of sir richard bourke, the clergy of the church of england were the only persons in the colony that were authorized to marry, to bury, or to christen. sir richard put an end to this extraordinary state of affairs, by his celebrated church act; and now, every one may be married by the minister of his own persuasion, and follow, in religious matters, the dictates of his conscience. strange as it may appear, sir richard's proceedings in this matter gave great offence to the magnates of the church of england; and the archdeacon went home to remonstrate with her majesty's government on the subject. his reverence took nothing, however, by his motion, lord glenelg, the then secretary for the colonies, highly approving of all that had been done. but the archdeacon returned to the colony a bishop, and, when i left it, was busily engaged in erecting a cathedral by public subscription. chapter ix. new south wales. township of maitland--the paterson district--winter sports--the kangaroo--australian husbandry--convict servants--benefit of enforcing an observance of sunday--the hot season. from sydney, i proceeded northward, by steam, to maitland, on the river hunter, and thence up the country bordering on those pretty little rivers, the paterson and the allyn. maitland puts a scotchman in mind of the "lang toon of kirkaldy," consisting of merely one long street. from its situation, at the head of the navigation of the hunter, and the centre of the very first agricultural district of new south wales, it is likely to become a large, thriving, and important place. the country in the immediate neighbourhood is flat, and the soil rich, yielding most luxuriant crops of wheat and indian corn. the season of - was a poor one for the farmer: flour rose in price to s. the cwt.; and the quartern loaf, before i left the colony, was selling as high as two shillings and eight-pence. this was a time to test the fertility of the soil round maitland, as well as the benefit it derives from its proximity to the sea. during this summer, the whole district was favoured with occasional refreshing showers; its crops were forward, and the yield good; and while crops in the southern districts had failed from drought, the hunter-river farmers were sending their surplus produce to sydney for sale. the township of maitland is divided into two towns or villages, called, east and west maitland. the former has been fixed upon as the site of the town by government, and the latter by the public, who have, as usual, shewn more wisdom in their choice than their masters have, inasmuch as they have planted their town within a few hundred yards of the head of the navigation; whereas the government town is three miles further up the river, and is unapproachable by steamers, or even by small craft. the two, however, will be joined together ere long, (most likely they are by this time,) as they are rising rapidly into importance. for the beauty of the country between maitland and the sea, i cannot say much: it used to remind me of lower bengal, being so very flat, and, in some places, so low as to be frequently flooded. like the houses in almost all new towns, those in maitland form a motley assemblage of buildings of all sizes, shapes, and colours. many of the smaller and inferior ones were, however, disappearing, even in ; and more sightly as well as more commodious buildings were rising up in their place. the traveller will find comfortable accommodation at either the union or the rose inn; and the charges are moderate. he will also have the advantage of meeting settlers from all parts of the neighbouring country, from whom he will readily obtain any information he may require. frequent cattle-sales are held here; and the beasts are, without trouble or much expense, conveyed to sydney by steam in twelve hours. the country from maitland, going up the paterson, is undulating and generally fertile; particularly the flat lands on the banks of the river. as you proceed towards the village of paterson, you observe numerous prettily situated farm-houses with their smiling gardens in front, and fields of wheat between them and the river. at the village, the navigation of this little river ceases; and the country becomes more and more hilly as you proceed higher up: the banks of the river, however, maintain their high character for fertility all the way to its source, and many thriving establishments are seen as the traveller pursues his journey. this part of new south wales, being so hilly, and consequently somewhat humid, does not answer the sheep-farmer's purposes; but the grazier finds his cattle and horses thrive well on these hills, and the agriculturist finds the valleys yield him excellent crops of tobacco, wheat, and maize. the first is becoming an article of great importance to the paterson farmer, and has helped many of those gentlemen through the difficulties from which the colony has been recently suffering. land on the upper paterson was selling, in , at s. per acre, in lots of six hundred and forty acres, of which not more than forty or fifty were arable land, the rest being what is called here, common bush land, thinly covered with trees, and affording tolerable pasture for cattle. purchasers of land at the above-named rate, have, i believe, found their bargains profitable, notwithstanding the heavy expense they had to incur in clearing and fencing the arable portion of it, in addition to the outlay for a dwelling, out-offices, &c. the settler on a small farm of this description is almost sure to do well, if he is industrious, and provided that he keeps clear of that colonial pest, the public-house. he will have very hard work the first two years; but his returns will well repay him even in moderately favourable seasons, while, in good times, they will be very profitable. a neighbour of mine raised, in the season of - , on eighteen acres of fresh cleared land, a crop of tobacco, which he cured and manufactured into negro-head on the spot: it yielded one hundred and fifty kegs of lb. weight each; and the whole was sold at s. d. per pound, thus giving a total of l. this farmer had fifteen hands, who, in addition to the tobacco, enabled him to cultivate wheat and maize sufficient to supply the farm, and to leave l. worth for sale. the outlay for the twelve months, including every thing, did not exceed l.; and i have shewn the returns to have been l. this slight sketch will afford an idea of what an industrious farmer may do in the paterson district. as soon as he can collect a few pounds, they may be profitably invested in the purchase of some good cows, which will not only supply him and his family with butter and milk, but will pay well by their annual increase. in , stock was worth, in this neighbourhood, as under:--cows, l.; fat cattle, l. s.; working oxen, l.; brood mares, l.; good roadsters, l.; sheep,--ewes, l., wethers, s. d. things have changed since that time: but more of this hereafter. during the three years i resided in australia, i lived almost entirely on the banks of the paterson, and the reader may therefore depend upon the correctness of my information regarding every thing in that neighbourhood. it bears a high character for the salubrity of its climate; and very justly so, according to my experience. not a member of my establishment was ill the whole time we were there; nor do i recollect a serious case of illness among our neighbours. the winter is mild,--just cold enough to make a fire comfortable; while the fine frosty mornings do great good to one who has arrived from india. i used to enjoy them exceedingly, and invariably walked out before breakfast to breathe the fine clear air. the cold weather sets in in april, and continues till september. this is the season to enjoy a gallop in chase of that most extraordinary animal, the kangaroo. notwithstanding that this part of the country is rather hilly, the hardy horses manage to carry their riders across it in safety. the river abounds with wild duck at this season, as well as with perch and a small fish here called herring, from its resemblance to that fish. the settler may thus not only find amusement for himself in shooting or fishing, but may make a very agreeable addition to his bush fare by his morning's ramble. the flesh of the kangaroo is literally good, for nothing: the tail makes very good soup, but the carcass of the full-grown animal is otherwise of no value to the european, though the native contrives to make an occasional meal of it. the young kangaroo of two or three months old, makes a tolerable substitute for jugged hare, and is frequently on the tables of the settlers. as population advances up the country, the kangaroo retires. i have, however, seen some hundreds of a large size in their native woods, skipping about, and bounding off on the approach of man. the notion, that a kangaroo makes use of his tail in leaping, is a mistaken one. i have watched them bounding along a plain, and could see distinctly that the tail never touched the ground. the female, when pursued, will retain its young one in the pouch with which nature has provided it, till very closely pressed by the dogs: it will then drop the little one, leave it to chance, and make off with increased speed. a full-grown male ("old man," the aboriginals call them) is more than a match for a single dog, and will frequently severely punish a couple of assailants before surrendering. these animals are easily tamed, and make very pretty pets in a garden. speaking of a garden, we had an excellent orchard, which supplied us with abundance of apricots, peaches, nectarines, figs, green-gages, apples, pears, and oranges, while the garden furnished many a dish of strawberries: for gooseberries, the climate is not cold enough. in march and april, the farmer is busied in preparing his fields for wheat-sowing, which ought to be finished by the middle of may. of this grain, the ground here yields a fair crop, though not equal to that usually reaped near maitland: it is, however, generally more than sufficient for the use of the district, which may be called a grain-exporting one. some farmers sow wheat on land from which they have just reaped a crop of indian corn: this proves, i need scarcely say, in the long run, very bad economy. on a farm where wheat, corn, and tobacco are grown, there is always abundance of employment for old and young. should field labour be suspended by the inclemency of the weather, or by any other cause, the farmer finds his servants full occupation in husking maize, threshing wheat, stripping, shifting, and curing tobacco. i used to keep my convict-labourers employed in light work, such as the above-mentioned, till ten o'clock at night: this i had no _right_ to exact; but my plan was, to keep a regular account current with every convict on the place, giving him credit so much for every extra hour he worked, and letting him know, every saturday night, how much was due to him, which i allowed him to take out in any shape but money or spirits. giving him the former, would have enabled him to procure the latter. it was generally taken out in tea and sugar; and i never had the slightest trouble in settling these little accounts. i had ten convicts assigned to me by government; and i confess that i would rather have had those men than most of the free emigrants that came to the colony. over the convict, the master has great power, the knowledge of which on the part of the servant, with good treatment and a firm hand held over him, will make him do a great deal of work. the government allowance of rations does not include tea, sugar, or tobacco; but most masters allow two ounces of the first and last, and one pound of the second per week; which not only makes the men contented, but gives the master more hold over them, as they stand in fear of his stopping the indulgence in the event of misconduct. from my own observation i should say, that nine-tenths of the misdoings amongst convict-servants, that one hears of in new south wales, arises from bad masters. what, for instance, can be expected from men assigned to a drunkard, who not only drinks himself, but makes a point of inducing his servants, whether free or bond, to take out their earnings in rum, of which he has always a plentiful supply on hand? what from the servants of a master who neither pays any attention to the sabbath himself, nor makes those under him observe it; who, on the slightest provocation, drags his men before the magistrate, and swears literally to any thing, to have them flogged; who never affords them the slightest indulgence, and whose whole aim is, to get the greatest possible quantity of work out of them for the smallest possible outlay? nothing tends more directly to promote the good order of a farm, than mustering everybody on it at noon on sunday, for the purpose of reading divine service to them. setting aside the moral benefit that this practice may be supposed to produce, it puts an effectual stop to distant wandering on that day. a man who has to appear cleanly dressed on sunday at noon, cannot stray far from home either before or after that hour. on farms where this custom is not kept up, the convict starts at daylight for some haunt where spirits are to be had, to pay for which he has most probably robbed his master; there he spends the day in riot and ribaldry, and reels home about midnight in a state that renders him very unfit for resuming his work on monday morning. the convict-servant soon finds out what sort of a master he has to deal with, and, to use their own slang, after trying it on for a bit, in nine cases out of ten, he yields to circumstances. two of mine tried a few of their old pranks at starting; but a timely, though moderate application of "the cat," put an entire stop to them. it is, however, useless to say more on this subject, as the system of assigning servants to private individuals has been done away with by orders from the home government. the female convicts are much more difficult to manage than the men, and often set their masters at defiance: they are generally of the lowest and most wretched class of women. the summer sets in in october, and wheat harvest begins in november. the weather then becomes exceedingly hot, and the heat is occasionally increased by the hot winds that blow from the north-west. these generally (i speak of what i have observed on the paterson) blow for three days successively, with considerable violence, and do no small injury to the farmer: they are very dry, make the lips crack, and the skin feel as if about to crack; and should they come across a field of wheat just shewing the ear, they would blight it to a certainty. after expending their force for three days, they are usually succeeded by a sharp southerly gale, which is frequently accompanied with rain, and soon makes every thing not actually blighted look green again. though the sun, during summer, has, apparently, as much power as in india, i have never experienced any injurious effects from it, though frequently exposed to its rays all day, both on foot and on horseback. the european labourer works in the field here through the day, the same as in england, and does not seem to suffer from the heat. during the hot winds, indeed, he is liable to an almost unquenchable thirst, to relieve which, he may drink with perfect impunity a large quantity of sugar and water; but those who have recourse to water only, are sure to suffer for their imprudence, though not seriously. november and december are the busy months at sheep-stations, all hands being then employed in clipping the wool and preparing it for market. chapter x. new south wales. bush-rangers--the drought of - --the settler's troubles--ornithology of australia--aboriginal tribes. on the paterson, we were never troubled with those dangerous characters called in the colony, bush-rangers. i can give no reason for their avoiding this neighbourhood, but know that they did avoid it, and that none of the residents in the district ever gave them a thought. other parts of the colony are not so fortunate; and loud complaints are constantly being made, of want of protection against those daring marauders. they are runaway convicts, who take to the bush, either to get clear of hard masters, or from a love of old habits; and, now and then, they keep a whole county in a state of alarm. frequent instances of their daring occurred during my residence in australia, some of a ferocious character, while others tended more to excite laughter. three of those scamps visited, at noon-day, a settler's house, and, coolly walking in, called for luncheon, and made themselves quite at home. while thus regaling themselves, they happened to see a violin hanging against the wall, and asked their _host_, whether he could play. on being answered in the affirmative, they made him strike up, while they danced to his music. when tired of this amusement, they helped themselves to whatever struck their fancy, and then went to the stable, picked out three of the best horses, leaving their own tired jades behind, and rode off. the master of the house was the only person at home at the time, and was unarmed; all his men were engaged in a distant field; and he was threatened with instant death, should he give the slightest alarm. resistance, therefore, was impossible. such depredations have latterly been much checked by the exertions of the mounted police. this very efficient body is composed of men drafted from her majesty's regiments stationed in the colony, who are mounted and dressed at the expense of the local government, and trained for their work. they patrole the country in all directions, and have captured and brought to justice many of the most desperate bush-rangers, as well as given a check to the several organized bodies of cattle-stealers. those parts of the colony most distant from the capital, are, naturally, most annoyed by bad characters of all description; and many of the settlers trust to their own strength, more than to the police, to defend their property. a friend of mine residing in wellington valley, three hundred and fifty miles west of sidney, used to arm himself and his groom, and sally out in search of any desperate character he might have heard of as being in the neighbourhood: he was more than once successful, and became quite a noted man among the bush-ranging fraternity, who took good care to keep at a respectable distance from him. were some other settlers blessed with as much nerve and courage as the gentleman i allude to, bush-rangers would soon become less numerous. a settler's life in an agricultural district, is pleasant enough, but it has its drawbacks. a season of drought makes sad work in his fields, and among his flocks. in the season of - , water became so scarce, that many of the best pasture-lands in our neighbourhood were of necessity abandoned, and the sheep as well as cattle were kept down on the banks of the river, then reduced to a mere chain of pools, the intervening channel being quite dry. the herbage was completely eaten up, and the trees in many parts were cut down, in order that the hungry animals might eat the leaves. one of my neighbours, to save his flocks, turned them on his half-grown crop of wheat, by which means he saved some thousands of sheep, but lost his wheat. tens of thousands of sheep and cattle, all over the country, died during this season; and grain crops failed everywhere, except on the banks of my three favourite rivers; namely, the hunter, the paterson, and the allyn. there was scarcely a settler on either of these rivers, that had not a little to spare; while, in less favoured parts of the colony, the farmer had to pay enormous prices for flour to feed his men; and the cart-hire came to nearly as much as the cost of the flour. i knew one gentleman who despatched from sydney four drays loaded with stores for his stations near bathurst, each dray drawn by seven oxen; and so great was the scarcity of water and fodder on the road, that only four of the poor animals reached their journey's end, the others having died on the road from sheer starvation. flour rose during this season to l. per ton, and the quartern loaf in sydney was sold at s. d. one of the greatest discomforts attendant upon a summer's residence in the bush of australia, arises from the swarms of flies, large and small, that infest the house. the large blow-fly is a serious nuisance: many a good joint of meat they spoil, in spite of every precaution. these insects find their way everywhere, and destroy whatever they come near. in the dairy, the greatest care is necessary to prevent these pests from reaching the milk and butter, which they will taint in a second. scarcely less of a plague than the swarms of flies, are the myriads of fleas which torment the tired farmer, and cheat him out of many an hour's sleep: these noisome disturbers are in the soil, and not all the care the best housewife can bestow, can diminish the number. while on the subject of the settler's troubles, i may mention, that the cockatoos annoy the farmer in australia, as much as the crows do in england: they attack his wheat and maize when the grain is ripening, by hundreds; indeed, i may say, by thousands; and it requires a very active watchman to keep them from doing serious injury to the crop, not so much from the quantity they eat, as from what they destroy and scatter. these birds, which, by the bye, furnish an excellent dish that occasionally formed part of our dinner, are remarkably cunning: while the flock are busily feeding on the farmer's wheat, two of their number are left on some neighbouring trees to keep watch; these, on the approach of danger, give a loud, shrill scream, which at once puts the thieves to flight, and renders it very difficult for the sportsman to get a shot at one of them. besides the common white red-crested cockatoo, the woods are the home of the black species; a rare bird, that i have never seen elsewhere. those brought to singapore by the celebes traders, are a bastard species. on what they feed, i am not aware, never having seen them in the wheat or maize fields. during the winter months, neither white nor black cockatoos are to be seen; nor have i ever heard to what place they migrate. the bird-fancier might here make as beautiful a collection as i have ever seen. the different varieties of the parrot tribe are countless, and extremely pretty: the king-parrot, the lowrie, and the mountain parrot, are, perhaps, the most beautiful. then, there is the pretty little diamond sparrow, so called from its size, its habits, resembling those of the common sparrow, and its plumage, which exhibits a diamond pattern of black, white, and blue. of the hawk tribe, the varieties are numerous: the largest is the eagle-hawk, which now and then carries off a lamb from the flocks of careless shepherds. were i an ornithologist, i might write a goodly volume on the birds of this country; but i must content myself with these few notices; not forgetting, however, to mention the stately black swan, a bird becoming every year more rare. we used frequently to be visited by tribes of the aboriginal inhabitants of this vast continent. they are, without exception, the most complete savages i have ever come across. they have no homes, no occupation beyond procuring food for the day, and think nothing of to-morrow, which they literally leave to take care of itself. they resist almost every attempt to induce them to labour, and, if clothed to-day by some good samaritan, will, in all probability, appear naked at his door to-morrow, having given away their clothes to some convict, in exchange for a pound of flour or an ounce of tobacco. in their habits, they are literally wanderers on the face of the earth, shifting their camp from place to place as game grows scarce. in rainy weather, the only precaution i ever saw them take, with a view to protect themselves from wet, was the building a small hut, not much larger than a bee-hive, constructed of the boughs of trees, with a small aperture on one side, into which the "black-fellow"[ ] thrusts his head and shoulders, and sleeps as sound as a top, his legs and the lower half of his body being exposed to wind and rain. in winter, they may be seen encamped round a fire after their day's hunting, all naked, and stretched on the ground, with their feet towards the fire; the men smoking, if they have any thing to smoke, and the wretched-looking women composing themselves to sleep in the same _natural_ state as their lords and masters.[ ] they suffer much, occasionally, from hunger, and may then be induced to do a day's work about the farm, for which they will consider themselves well paid by a pound of flour and an ounce of tobacco each. this reward must not be given them, however, till their work is done: give it beforehand, and not a hand's turn will they do, but decamp at once to enjoy their dinner. as soon as they have eaten their bread, they light the pipes, and never cease smoking till their tobacco is finished. some of the men are remarkably well made, and strong, able-bodied fellows. one who spent a week now and then in my kitchen, doing any thing the cook told him, for the promise of a supper, was a tall, good-looking fellow, named jamie. they are one and all christened in the bush by any european they may ask for a name. a father applied to me one day for a name for his little boy, and i forthwith called him "donald;" at which the old man and the rest of the tribe laughed heartily, saying, "all same your horse." i had then a pony called donald. to resume: jamie was frequently clothed by me, and was asked to sleep in the kitchen, or in one of the out-offices, but all to no purpose: his clothes, he never kept a week, and he invariably took his departure at sun-set to sleep in the open air. in our district, i believe, the blacks were harmless people; but, on the upper hunter, on liverpool plains, they have been not only very troublesome, but even dangerous neighbours. many settlers have suffered severely from their depredations; and several shepherds and stock-keepers have been murdered by them. would they content themselves with killing a single bullock or two or three sheep, when suffering from hunger, one might excuse them; but i have known twenty-five cows killed by a single tribe in one night, the fat and kidneys taken away, and the carcases left on the ground. this, to say the least of it, was a mischievous waste of property; and such proceedings naturally led the settlers to retaliate. the consequences were serious, and led to extreme measures, ending, in more than one instance, in bloodshed. there seems to be no room for doubt, that many of these poor creatures have been murdered by stock-keepers on the mere suspicion of being concerned in such crimes. this fact, however, does not justify the government in offering a hundred pounds reward for the discovery of the offender, when a black happens to be murdered by a white, and only twenty-five pounds reward, when the murderer is black, and the victim white. [footnote : the name given to the aborigines in australia.] [footnote : it is a singular fact, that the aboriginal natives of new south wales, as well as the cattle that roam at large in its woods, invariably choose the top of a moderately elevated hill to sleep on during the winter months. the reason is, that the hills are _always_ warmer than the valleys, and are consequently resorted to in winter; while the latter are chosen in summer as camping-ground by man and beast. i have often been surprised, when riding about the bush in winter, at feeling a current of warm air on the top of a range of hills, having myself just ascended from the neighbouring valley where the breeze was chilling. these warm breezes on the hill tops blow from the north-west, and may be nearly related to the summer hot winds, cooled on reaching the latitude of ° in the winter season. be that as it may, they are not strong enough to warm the valleys, though their influence on the hills is very agreeable to the traveller.] what would my fair countrywomen say to the "black-fellow's" mode of taking unto himself a wife? on making up his mind as to the object of his choice, he proceeds by night to the camping-ground of the _fair_ one's tribe; searches her out among the sleeping beauties; deals her a blow on the head with his club, (to which an irishman's shillelah is a twig,) and carries off the stunned and senseless wretch to his own camp. this ceremony makes them man and wife, and no further notice is taken of the affair. the different tribes are constantly at war: but i have never heard of any very serious consequences arising from their feuds. the day of battle is generally spent in painting themselves red, dancing the war-dance in presence of their foes, and, probably, exchanging a few spears towards its close. their arms consist of spears, clubs, and the _boomerang_. the latter is a very extraordinary weapon, which they throw to a great distance, making it _return to the thrower_ when it has described its revolution, and probably hit some unfortunate wight on the head in its course through the air. this weapon is of hard wood, about three feet long, two inches broad, a quarter of an inch thick, and in the form of a crescent: it is thrown against the wind, and describes a circle in its course. the spear is of cane, hardened by fire at the end, and is thrown with great force and dexterity. no black who can by any means obtain a tomahawk, is ever without one, generally of english make: with this, they are very expert at felling trees, and, with its aid, will climb a tree which it would take two pair of arms to encircle. the "black-fellow" cuts a small notch about three feet from the ground; in this, he inserts the toe of one foot, holding on by one hand while he cuts another hole three feet further up to receive the other foot; and thus he proceeds till he reaches the top. the dead trees of australia, which are all hollow, are a favourite resort of the opossum. in search of them, the black-fellow will ascend a tree in the manner just described; and there he will sit while his companions below dig under the roots, and light a fire, the smoke from which ascending the trunk of the tree, as a chimney, speedily dislodges the game. this is dexterously pounced upon by "blacky," the moment its head appears peeping from the aperture at the top of some of the branches. i have never known the tomahawk thrown by them, as it is by the indian of america. my family was once thrown into considerable alarm by an ill-looking tribe of blacks who formed their camp immediately in front of our cottage: they were strangers, and had no business there. on making inquiries about them, i found that they came from a neighbouring district, and were endeavouring to evade the police, who were in search of them for the murder of an unfortunate shepherd. not at all liking such neighbours, i took advantage of their absence, one day, when they were gone kangaroo-hunting, and set fire to their bee-hive huts. on their return at sun-set, they took the hint, and we saw no more of them. among these tribes, it is a rule, that blood must be had for blood; and this leads them, when one of their number falls by the hand of a white man, to kill the first european they happen to meet, in retaliation. it would scarcely be reasonable to expect these ignorant savages to see the injustice of this proceeding; yet, it is hard, that an unoffending person like the shepherd above referred to should be slaughtered in revenge of the murder of a man he had never seen. the number of dialects, or apparently different languages, spoken by the aborigines of australia, is very remarkable. those residing in and about sydney cannot converse with those on the hunter, who, in their turn, are ignorant of the dialect spoken on liverpool plains; and this is the case throughout the colony. when sir edward parry was manager of the australian agricultural company's affairs, he made a tour of inspection through its estates, taking with him some few black followers as guides. they were not fifty miles from their home, when, to sir edward's astonishment, he heard them speaking english to their countrymen of the districts through which they were passing. on inquiring the reason, he was told, that the two parties were entirely ignorant of each other's language. i never could make out the religious notions of these aboriginal tribes, further than that they believe in a future state. they do not appear to have much affection for their children, if one may judge from the way in which they treat them; yet, the mother bemoans the loss of one of her little ones very piteously, daubs her face and arms with lime in token of mourning, and spends many days in the neighbourhood of the grave. in common with all savage nations, the australian blacks treat their women ill. these poor creatures get the worst of all their food, with the hardest of all their work; and are frequently very severely beaten by their hard and ruthless taskmasters. degraded as are these aborigines generally, those in the immediate vicinity of sydney are a more abject race than their more fortunate brethren who inhabit the distant parts of the colony. this may be partly, if not wholly accounted for, by the facility with which at sydney they can obtain ardent spirits, to procure which they will do almost any thing. i have never seen human beings elsewhere reduced to a state of such utter degradation and misery as these poor people exhibit. to shew how much they dislike any thing like labour, i may mention, that government, on one occasion, set aside a piece of land for a tribe near sydney, and had it cleared, tilled, and planted with maize for their use, exacting from them a promise that they would tend the growing corn, keep it clean, and gather the crop when ripe: they did neither the one nor the other, but, when called on to gather the grain that was to be their own, said, it was too much trouble. the result was, that the corn was plucked for them; and no further attempt was made to induce them to work. several praiseworthy individuals have from time to time endeavoured to educate and civilize young boys of this unhappy race. one was sent to england, where he was kept at school till he was fifteen years of age; and he then returned to his native country. he had not been two days on shore in sydney, when, meeting with some of his countrymen, he threw off his european clothing, and started for the bush, whence there was no getting him back. like most savages, the natives are seldom if ever known to express surprise or astonishment under any circumstances. shortly before leaving the colony, i saw a native, early in the morning, standing on one of the heights overlooking the harbour of sydney. on my asking what he was about, his reply was: "i belong big river ( miles distant); first time come sydney; come here see ship; _budgerie su_ (pleasant sight); never see ship or salt water before." this poor savage had come three hundred miles on foot, assisting a drover with a herd of cattle; he had never before seen either the sea or a ship in his life; and yet there he stood, looking at these, to him, most extraordinary objects, with a countenance as placid and unmoved as if they had been daily sights from his infancy. on questioning him, i could extract nothing further from him: he _would not_ allow that he was astonished, but simply repeated, "_budgerie su_." while idling away an hour one day in the criminal court, i saw an aboriginal black tried for murder. nothing could exceed the perfect indifference that he exhibited throughout the whole scene. when called upon, through an interpreter, to plead guilty or not guilty, his reply was: "i did it because he (the deceased) stole my wife." he would not condescend to deny an act which he considered himself justified in committing. this plea of justification, the learned judge directed to be taken as one of not guilty; and the result was, the prisoner's acquittal. sir f. l. mitchell, the surveyor-general of new south wales, in his admirable journal of his three celebrated expeditions into the interior of australia, has described the aboriginal inhabitants of that portion of the country named by him, "australia felix," as a race of men altogether superior to those found in other parts of this continent. this race may, and probably will be found formidable neighbours for the first settlers to encounter. their country, from the description given by its discoverer, must be a very fine one; and should it prove to be regularly refreshed by rain, it will be an invaluable addition to the colony. the fate of the tribes i have been endeavouring to describe, is a melancholy one: they are fast disappearing from the face of the earth; and one or two more generations will, in all human probability, see the last of them. chapter xi. new south wales. the hot winds--projected mail-road from sydney to port essington--sheep-farms--grazing in australia--horse-stock. i have often heard the question raised in australia, whence proceed the hot winds? hitherto, this inquiry has not, to my knowledge, been satisfactorily answered. these winds invariably blow from the north-west; but the question is, whence do they derive the heat they are charged with? in the months during which they prevail, the north-west monsoon is blowing in the java sea, and thence all the way to torres' straits; and northerly winds are prevalent on the eastern coast of australia. the weather in those seas, at that season, is wet and cold for the latitude; consequently, the north-west wind, when it first reaches the northern coast of australia, is the reverse of a hot one: whence, then, the heat it brings with it to the thirty-fourth degree of south latitude? from torres' straits to this latitude, the distance is, in southing alone, fifteen hundred miles, twelve hundred of which are entirely unexplored. i have heard it suggested, that, in this space, may, and probably does exist, a great inland desert, the crossing of which heats and dries the wind. whether such a desert does or does not exist, is a problem that may not be solved for many years to come; unless, indeed, the expedition now in contemplation, for the survey of the country in search of a practicable overland route from sydney to port essington, should lead to its earlier solution. to this expedition, should it ever start, i wish every possible success, though i have my misgivings as to its favourable result, and question the soundness of the judgment that advises the undertaking at this time. supposing the route should prove practicable simply as a mail line, is the colony at present in circumstances to bear the expense of keeping it up? the object is, to have the overland indian mail carried from singapore by steam to port essington, thence to sydney overland; the distance being, in round numbers, two thousand miles, three-fourths of the way through an uninhabited and unknown country. to keep up such a line, the outlay would be enormous, and would far exceed any return that could be expected for the next fifty years. the good folks of sydney seem bent on trying it, however; and on being refused pecuniary aid from the government, they resolved on carrying it through at their own expense; but they have since cooled in their ardour. at least, i have not heard of the money being forthcoming.[ ] [footnote : the expedition just alluded to has never been attempted; and i think very wisely. the great commercial crisis under which the colony of new south wales, in common with all the australian colonies, has been suffering of late, has given the colonists other and more pressing matters to think of; and if they will take the advice of one who wishes them well, they will look to some other route for quicker communication with the mother country, than that _viâ_ port essington.--october, .] i shall now proceed to offer a few observations upon sheep and sheep-stations. a sheep-station is, probably, the most desolate place at which a man could be sent to pass his time. fancy three men in charge of one thousand sheep, which range over five square miles of country, of which five miles those three outcasts are literally the only inhabitants, and, strange as it may seem, seeing but little of each other. one is the watchman, who remains by the hut all day, shifts the folds, and sleeps between them at night, to protect their occupants from the prowling native dog: the other two are shepherds, who start every morning at daylight, in different directions, each in charge of his flock; they do not return to the hut till sun-down, when they are tired, weary, and eager for supper and bed. thus, day after day, and month after month, pass in solitary wretchedness, relieved only on the saturday for a couple of hours, when a man with the week's rations arrives at the station. these men live all the year round on salt beef and bread, the latter baked by themselves: they have no change either of diet, of employment, or of any thing else; for, be it known, a really good sheep-station in australia yields nothing but grass and gum-trees, the soil being dry and poor. a shepherd on the hills of scotland, who returns every night to his _bothie_, and finds a _warm_ supper cooked for him by some kind female hand, is a prince compared to the exile of australia, who comes home tired and sleepy at sun-down, and may then either chop wood to cook his meal, or go supperless to bed, as suits his fancy. it is under these circumstances that those unhappy connections are formed with native women, the offspring from which are invariably killed by the mother. against these connections, the present governor has very properly set his face, and positively interdicted them. although he may check, he cannot, however, do away with the evil; which leads not only to the murder of helpless infancy, but to bloodshed and wrangling between the whites and the blacks. sheep, when i arrived in australia in , were in great request, and ewes with lambs at their feet were worth s. each, while wool was at s. d. per pound. in - and - , stock of every kind rose in price; and in the former year, i paid as high as l. per head for a flock of four hundred ewes with lambs five months old at their feet. this purchase was not a safe one; it was made when i knew but little of the value of stock, but acted under the advice of others, and when the colony was in the very midst of that wild career of mad speculation which has since worked so much misery to thousands. i suffered in common with many others who invested money in sheep at the same time, and who left the colony. nevertheless, i look upon sheep as one of the best descriptions of stock in which a man can speculate, provided that he keeps within reasonable bounds as to price. good ewes purchased from s. to s. per head, will, nine times out of ten, pay their proprietor from fifteen to twenty per cent, for his outlay. to do this, they must of course be properly tended, and be kept on what is here called, a good run, _i. e._ fine dry pasture on rather an elevated tract of country. the sheep-farmer ought to have a good homestead in an agricultural part of the colony, (this, in my opinion, is indispensable to his success,) where he may grow grain sufficient not only to render him almost independent of bad seasons and high prices, but, generally, to give him a few hundred bushels of surplus wheat and maize with which to buy tea, sugar, and clothing. hundreds of sheep-farmers have of late been ruined by having to purchase the actual necessaries for their stations on credit. cash they had none, being unwilling to part with even their surplus stock at the miserably low prices alone obtainable. another error that sheep-farmers fall into from time to time, is, the allowing their establishments to outgrow themselves, as it were, by not selling every year's surplus stock. i have known establishments become quite unmanageable from this cause, and have heard large proprietors frequently say, they were losers by holding so large a number of sheep: still, they went on in spite of their own better judgment, from year to year, without selling a single head of stock. this loss attendant upon overgrown establishments, arises as much from the difficulty of getting good and trustworthy servants, as from any other cause. the master's eye cannot be everywhere, and the overseer's is seldom to be trusted. lazy shepherds keep sheep in till ten a. m. in place of turning them out at six. idle watchmen shift the folds twice a week, instead of every day. fifty other cases of this kind take place on a large sheep-farm, that never could occur on a small establishment. in damp weather, the watchman's neglecting to shift the folds, is sure to do harm. one of its first evil effects is to give the sheep toe-rot; a troublesome complaint that lames the animal, and is not easily got rid of. then, a careless shepherd will allow his flock to stray on your neighbour's run, which may have been fed over by scabby sheep the day before. if no rain has fallen during the night, the disease is sure, in that case, to be caught by the trespassers, as i can testify from dear-bought experience. scab, here, is a very different disease from what the sheep-farmer at home is acquainted with, and is much more difficult to cure. the remedies applied for it are severe, and of a kill-or-cure description: indeed, it requires a strong sheep to bear this application. rubbing with tar, as practised in scotland, has been found utterly useless. in advising sheep-farmers to have a good agricultural homestead, i am aware i am recommending what hundreds have not the power to obtain. as a general rule, however, it is a golden one; and i would adhere to it, even were i compelled to have three hundred miles between my stations and the homestead. indeed, i have known those two establishments separated by two hundred miles. since - , sheep have been sold in new south wales as low as ninepence a head: this, however, was under very extraordinary circumstances, and is not likely to happen again; more especially since the proprietor has found out that, by slaughtering the animal, and boiling down the carcase, he can get s. d. for the tallow it yields. during the recent distresses, thousands of sheep have been disposed of in this way, the proprietors being so much reduced as to be literally unable either to pay or to feed men to look after their flocks. i know many parties who purchased sheep between the years and , at the rates then current, at three years' credit, paying ten per cent, per annum for the indulgence, who, after keeping their purchases and their increase for three years, were compelled, when their acceptances became due, to sell off original stock, increase, and all, and then had not half enough to satisfy their creditor. this, as i said before, arose from peculiar circumstances, being caused by the prevailing panic. i shall advert again to this subject, in offering a few remarks upon the recent distresses and their causes. now as to cattle. the english or scotch grazier, who has his cattle brought home and housed every night, can have no idea of the sort of work his brother grazier in australia has to go through. here, the climate is so mild, that cattle are never housed, but wander in the bush from year's end to year's end. the proprietor of five hundred head of horned cattle, must command the run of five thousand acres of pasture-land, of fair quality, as the grass in the woods of australia is so thin, that it takes three acres to feed a sheep, and ten for a bullock. he generally employs two men, called stock-keepers, to look after them: these are mounted, and ought to employ their time in riding over and roundabout their master's run, to see that his cattle do not stray, and that his grass is not trespassed on by others. this, however, is more than most of these gentry condescend to do, many of them preferring the company of cattle-stealers and other vagabonds, with whom they are frequently leagued; and if i may judge from the money i have seen in possession of stock-keepers, they share largely in the cattle-stealers' plunder. with the exception of some twenty cows and calves usually kept about the house, to give milk, which are called the milking herd, the grazier sees nothing of his herds but on muster-days, which occur twice a year. for some time previously to muster-day, the stock-keepers have been very busy drawing their herds by degrees as near the stock-yard as possible; and when the day arrives, the whole are driven into the yard to be inspected. all the yearlings are then branded, and fat bullocks are picked out for sale or slaughter. at this time, the stock-keeper and his horse have no sinecure; for the cattle they have to collect, are as wild, and nearly as swift as deer; so much so, that a cattle-hunt in australia is nearly as much enjoyed by the young men as a fox-hunt in old england. some breeds of cattle are much more easily managed than others, being naturally quieter; but, generally speaking, the wild way in which the australian herds are reared, makes them intractable and troublesome. in spite of all this thieving and trouble, however, cattle-stock is a good investment for money in ordinary times. in extraordinary times like the last year or two, no investment is safe, except to the man who can hold on till things mend. in , cattle were worth from l. s. to l. per head, for a herd consisting of cows, steers, and heifers from one to three years old, and calves under six months. very superior herds were worth more; but i speak generally. since that time, thousands of cattle have been killed and boiled down for their tallow. but times are mending, and this stock, like every other, is not likely to be again so unsaleable. it is of the greatest possible importance to a grazier, to have his herds near some place where there is communication by water with sydney. in this respect, hunter's river and port macquarie have the pre-eminence over the rest of the colony. the possessor of fat cattle, in either of those districts, can at all times send them to market by steam, without their losing much flesh; whereas i knew in , when fodder was so scarce, a man having three hundred head of beasts fit for the knife, running in wellington valley, which, could he have got them into sydney, would have brought l. per head ready cash, but which were utterly valueless to him, from the impossibility of driving them through a country almost bare of pasture. had this man been on the banks of either of my favourite rivers, he could have turned his cattle into cash in three days. the wild way in which cattle are reared in australia, makes the young steer a troublesome animal to break in for the plough; and then, the absurd system of turning all the working bullocks into the bush to feed after their day's work, adds very much to the farmer's cares. these bullocks are very cunning, and at daylight, when they well know the ploughman will be after them, invariably conceal themselves in some snug corner. i have had men out for hours, looking for a team of bullocks in this way, and have frequently been vexed to see them return as late as noon with only half the number. were i again to turn australian farmer, i would stable my working cattle, keep a man to take care of them, grow ten acres of lucerne hay to feed them, save their manure, (an article almost universally thrown away in australia,) get double work out of them, and have the satisfaction of seeing my ploughs going at regular hours, in place of being worried "from july to eternity," as sam slick says, by having to search for the cattle in the bush. it often struck me, that the australian grazier loses a chance of making a good deal of money by neglecting his dairy produce. had he a regular establishment in the bush where his herds run, to milk the cows and make butter and cheese, it would not only, in my opinion, pay well for the trouble, but would make his cattle much less wild. his having forty or fifty cows brought home every evening to milk, would not only make their calves quiet and tractable, but would also compel the stock-keeper to be more active, would keep him at his duty, and, i feel satisfied, would save the proprietor a great deal in the course of the year. the butter and cheese here are both of excellent quality, and might be made in large quantities; yet, both are regularly imported into sydney from the derwent (van diemen's land) and port phillip; a state of things the settlers of new south wales ought to be ashamed of. many a fine cattle-run is rendered useless in dry seasons, by want of water. nature has provided, all over the country, reservoirs (or tanks) for water, which are filled by every heavy rain; and their contents last a long time: still, in a very dry season, these fail; and many a thirsty bullock loses his life by tumbling, from excessive weakness, into one of those pits. some parts of the country have no tanks, (or water-holes, as they are called,) except a few muddy puddles at the foot of the hills, and thus become unavailing sooner than other parts. this inconvenience might in a great measure be remedied, at trifling cost, by constructing dams at properly chosen places in the ravines or gulleys that intersect the hills from top to bottom, every two or three hundred yards. in one instance, i have seen this plan adopted with success. the owners of property between sydney and paramatta are compelled to make tanks, the water in the river being salt, and that procured by digging wells being very little better. water, water, is the cry, in dry seasons, all over this otherwise highly favoured country; and till the end of time, this want will prevent new south wales from becoming a densely populated country. the horse-fancier may invest a few hundreds very profitably in the purchase of some really good brood mares. from these, he will not only draw a good return for his money, but will also derive a great deal of pleasant pastime in superintending the breaking-in of his colts and fillies. horse-stock, like every other, has fallen much in price lately, but will doubtless recover itself when times improve. i am acquainted with more than one proprietor who has made no inconsiderable sum of money by rearing horses. there is a constant demand for them; and of late, a good market has been found in india for those suited for cavalry. another profitable investment for money is to be found, in sydney, in the way of mortgage. ten and twelve per cent, is paid regularly, and security given of an undoubted character,--security that has not in one instance failed the mortgagee, even in the recent desperate times. large sums may be invested in this way; and for the absent capitalist, it is the mode of investment i would recommend in preference to any other. bank shares used to be in great favour with monied men when i was in australia. the holders have, however, had a severe lesson since then, having suffered seriously by some failures among those establishments. chapter xii. new south wales. causes of the recent distresses--conduct of the banks--mania for speculation--long-account system--bad seasons. i will now proceed to offer a few remarks on the causes of the late terrible distresses in new south wales, and on what i consider as the best means of preventing the recurrence of such lamentable scenes. the three main causes of those distresses were, undoubtedly:-- first, harsh and illiberal conduct on the part of the banks. secondly, a wild speculation-mania that took possession of the entire population. thirdly, the system that had obtained, of giving long credit to purchasers of stock, &c. while i look upon these three as the primary and principal causes of by far the greater part of the suffering the colony has recently undergone, i must specify another, though certainly a secondary cause; namely, two successive bad seasons. this last cause is, i am aware, by many persons, regarded as the chief source of all their distresses and losses; but i think i can shew that those parties are wrong in this opinion, which springs from their anxiety to frame an excuse for their very imprudent speculations. in the first place, then, i accuse the banks of harsh and illiberal conduct; and i will state my reasons for this charge. when i arrived in sydney in , the banks, without exception, but more particularly the commercial bank (then under the management of a would-be shrewd aberdonian), were doing every thing in their power to induce parties to open accounts with them. bills for discount were eagerly sought after, and little attention was paid to the respectability of the names of either drawer or endorser. cash-advances were publicly advertised by the commercial bank. parties, to my certain knowledge, were stopped in the street by the aberdonian just alluded to, who solicited their business with a very bland smile. in short, no stone was left unturned by these money-seekers to add to their half-yearly dividends. this system went on till the latter end of . i need scarcely say, that this unbecoming and greedy canvassing for business, tempted many an unwary merchant and settler to venture beyond his depth, and ultimately led to ruin and a prison. the amount of money represented by absolutely valueless paper at this time, is quite beyond calculation. renewals were a matter of course. cash payments, even in part, were the reverse of common. bank-directors overdrew their accounts with perfect impunity to a large amount; and the whole colony seemed intoxicated with the fond notion that the banks would never fail them, and that, in those fountains, they would at all times find a never-ending supply of "the needful." in the midst of this mad career, the day of reckoning came suddenly upon them. the banks took the alarm: they began to think they had allowed the kite-flying system to go too far; and they commenced a system of unparalleled harshness and oppression towards their _gulls_. cash advances were not merely stopped, but those previously made were called in. renewals would no longer be accepted, even for half or a quarter of the amount due; and the unfortunate "kite-flier" was, in hundreds of cases, ruined by the very men who had in the most unprincipled manner led him into the mire, and then left him. the banks now took up a position the very opposite of that hitherto occupied by them; and, instead of trusting everybody, put no faith in any one. this conduct ultimately recoiled upon themselves; their shares fell in value; some of them became bankrupt, while the others had a hard struggle to avoid that catastrophe; and the public lost all confidence in banks and bankers. the worst part of the tale remains to be told; namely, that many widows and orphans, whose all was invested in bank shares, were utterly ruined and reduced to destitution by the failures alluded to. i come now to the second main cause of australian distress, viz. the speculation-mania that took possession of the entire population of this fine colony. no one who did not witness the effects of this mania, can imagine to what an extent it was carried. scarcely a day passed without one or more public auctions of stock of all descriptions; and not a sale took place, that was not crowded with eager purchasers. many large stock-holders took advantage of the high prices obtained at those sales, to sell off, in the delusive hope that they would in this way be enabled to retire from active life, and perhaps to return to their native country. the terms offered at those public sales, were such as to induce many persons who never even dreamed of sheep or cattle farming, to enter the market and purchase to a large extent. these terms were, in general, something like the following:-- ten per cent, on the fall of the hammer; thirty per cent, by bill at twelve months; thirty per cent, by bill at two years; thirty per cent, by bill at three years: these bills bearing interest at ten per cent, per annum. i have seen tens of thousands of sheep and cattle sold in this way, many of the buyers being men who had never even seen one of the animals they were bidding for, and who knew literally nothing about the management of flocks and herds; being tempted to make the purchase by the long credit given. but, strange to say, many old settlers were led, with their eyes open, into extensive purchases at most exorbitant rates, thinking that nothing could check the career of splendid prosperity upon which the colony was then supposed to have entered. how dearly those parties have paid for their folly, the world generally, and their creditors in particular, well know. besides the numerous public sales of stock all over the colony, and the large amount of property that changed hands on those occasions, many important private sales took place about the same time. there was not a sheep, cow, or horse in the colony, too old or too bad to find a purchaser! any thing would sell, provided only that _time_ was given to find the money. nothing could exceed the madness of the people, buying, selling, and exchanging accommodation-paper from end to end of the land. then came the land-jobbers, a set of sharks who did great harm. it was a common practice with those jobbers, or rather robbers, to apply to the surveyor-general's department, to have lots of land put up for sale, which they were aware that certain landed proprietors could never allow to fall into the hands of strangers, and then to go to the party whose estate the sale of the land in question would injure, and demand a bribe to stop their bidding against him. if this quietus was refused, these scamps would attend the sale, and bid the land up to some exorbitant price, knowing that their victim must be the buyer. land once advertised by government must be put up to auction; and the jobber's victim was obliged either to purchase, or to run the risk of having a stranger sit down as the proprietor of a few hundred acres in the midst of his thousands. another class of scamps used to attend land-sales, who would conspire to keep down the prices of lots they wanted, by not bidding against each other, and by playing various other tricks, to the detriment of the revenue. the attorney-general got hold of half a dozen of those gentry in , and prosecuted them for conspiracy. he obtained a verdict of guilty against them, but assented to their petition for a new trial. again they were convicted, and they were fined a hundred pounds each; the court telling them, that the penalty would have been much heavier, had not the judge taken into consideration their humble petition for mercy, and the heavy expenses they had incurred in standing two trials. this system of selling by auction and by private sale, large herds of cattle and flocks of sheep at high prices, went on till some of the twelve-month's paper became due. cash not being then forthcoming, renewals were asked for in many instances, which somewhat damped the ardour of speculation; but the wild career did not receive any very serious check, till the two-years' paper began to come into play. very little cash could be got from the drawers, who were, in many cases, obliged to bring a large portion of their stock to the hammer, in order to meet their acceptances for thirty per cent, of the purchase money. this alarmed people. the price of stock began to fall; and, long before the three-years' paper became due, ewes that had cost the buyers l. per head, could be got for s. d. thus, many a poor fellow, after labouring hard for three years to keep his flocks and their increase together, had to part with the whole, and still had not enough wherewith to satisfy his original creditors. hundreds of instances of this kind might be specified, did i feel at liberty to publish names. as to the operation of the third main cause of the distress, the system that obtained, of giving long credit to purchasers of stock, the evils arising from this practice have been partly exposed in the foregoing remarks; but i will proceed to point out a few other evil consequences, as they occur to me. to begin with one that more than once came under my own notice; many persons of property, trusting to the long prices obtainable for stock of every description when sold on credit, and forgetting that there was absolutely no _cash price_ at the time, deemed themselves much richer men than they were in reality. giving to their overseers the charge of their country residences, they took and furnished houses in sydney for their families, set up their carriages, and commenced a style of living far beyond their means. this fact (the want of cash) came upon them the moment the first half-year's bills for rent, household supplies, &c., became due: these proved to the deluded settler, that, though he had flocks and herds, he had no money, nor could any be got, except at a sacrifice. to a man, they had to sell off and return to their estates, where dire necessity has since compelled them to remain, and where, i hope, renewed prosperity and common sense will induce them to stay. another evil caused by the long-credit system, was its inducing many persons to purchase stock for the purpose of raising money upon it. this practice was carried to a ruinous extent, and caused immense distress in this way. a hundred head of cattle might be parted with to day, by a needy settler, say, at l. per head, six months' credit; the seller took the buyer's note of hand for the purchase money, l., which was immediately taken to the bank, and discounted; and the settler returned to his farm, satisfied that he had made a good sale of his beasts. the buyer, having no use for the cattle, re-sold them, taking the second buyer's note for the money, which, like that of the first, went at once to the bank. this transaction was frequently repeated six or eight times, before the cattle found a _bonâ fide_ purchaser; and it was no uncommon thing, to find paper in the market to the amount of l. or l., the only representative for which was the hundred head of cattle originally sold by the settler; the whole of the parties concerned being, with the exception of the first seller and the last buyer, mere men of straw. when the six months expired, not a single bill of the six or eight negotiated, was taken up, excepting, perhaps, the last one: all the others had to be renewed; and it was the forcing the payment of such bills, that ruined so many people, and ultimately shook the credit of every bank in australia. the credit system also led many mercantile men into speculations which they never would have entered into under a wholesome system of trade. from these many serious losses resulted, which have led to ruinous failures. any man with a hundred pounds in his pocket, could get credit for a thousand; and numbers of adventurers of all descriptions, taking advantage of the times, opened stylish shops well-filled with goods bought on credit, carried on a flourishing trade till within a few days of their bills falling due, and then decamped, leaving their unfortunate and silly creditors to get paid from the wreck of the stock left in the shop. i knew an auctioneer who played this nefarious trick, leaving his creditors _minus_ the enormous sum of , l. he did not, however, long retain his ill-gotten wealth: how he got rid of it, i do not know; but i found him two years ago in singapore, where he kept a small grog-shop, and lived in great wretchedness; and i have since met with him knocking about the streets of macao, a disgrace to his country in a foreign settlement. the credit system ruined two thirds of the respectable auctioneers in sydney, and upset the australian auction company, absorbing every shilling of its paid-up capital. in addition to the evils inflicted on this colony by these main causes, great losses were sustained by settlers through their becoming shippers of their own wool. at the time i speak of, wool was worth, in sydney, from s. d. to s. d. per pound, and, in england, some d. or d. more. these high rates would not satisfy some settlers, who foolishly took an advance upon their clips, letting them go home on their own account, and at the risk of the agents of the parties who advanced the money in sydney. in the meantime, wool fell in the english markets to s. and d. per pound. the nett proceeds of the shipment did not nearly cover the advance made; and the hapless shipper, already in debt to his agent for supplies, and without a penny of cash at his command, was called upon to make good the difference, which he was unable to do. his agent, pressed by others, must press him; his flocks are brought to the hammer, and sold at the now ruinous current prices; and he becomes a bankrupt. dozens of cases like this, occurred during the late wretched times. i come now to the consideration of the bad seasons of - and - . while i maintain that they were far from being the sole, or even the chief cause of distress, i allow that they added to it very materially. to shew that they were not the sole cause, i may mention, that, among my own personal friends in the colony, not one who avoided speculation and putting his name on paper, has failed; while those who followed the stream have sunk, every one of them. during those years, every thing the unfortunate grazier had to sell, was cheap beyond all precedent; while every article he was compelled to purchase, was very dear. tea, owing to the china war, rose from l. to l. per half-_pecul_ chest of hyson skin. flour of the very coarsest description could not be had under from l. to l. per ton of two thousand pounds weight,--a colonial cheat, calling two thousand pounds a ton! sugar and other necessaries were equally high; and many a poor settler who had never refused his hard-worked servants their tea, sugar, and tobacco, was compelled to stop those indulgences. to the working-classes in sydney and other towns, the bad seasons were ruinous. provisions were so dear, that many a father of a family found his earnings far from sufficient to provide food for his wife and children. building was almost entirely put a stop to; and thus, hundreds of industrious men were thrown out of employment. to so serious an extent did this distress reach, that government was called upon to afford pecuniary relief to the starving poor; a circumstance altogether unprecedented in australian history. so low had these evils sunk the colony and all its inhabitants, that failures of merchants and settlers continued to be of almost daily occurrence up to the end of the year . no one durst push his neighbour for payment of debt: were such a thing attempted, an immediate surrender of his affairs to the official trustee of the insolvent court, was the consequence. several of the first and oldest merchants in the colony have sunk under the long-continued pressure; and, at the date of the last accounts, more failures were looked for. these, however, were expected as the result of old causes, not of new or recent transactions. upon the whole, i am disposed to think, that australia has seen its darkest day, and that things are likely soon to improve, if, indeed, they have not already mended. the price of stock was looking up; and ewes that had actually been sold as low as d. each, were worth s. d. men of capital lately arrived from england with ready money, had commenced purchasing land and stock; and their operations had given an impetus to affairs in general, that could not fail to be beneficial. chapter xiii. new south wales. elements of prosperity still existing--hints to the colonists--future prospects. notwithstanding the terrible shock from which australia has been suffering ever since , i still retain a high opinion of the colony as an advantageous field for the employment of the spare capital of the mother country. the elements of prosperity still exist, and require only a little nursing in order to effect its recovery from the recent depression. the emigrant with a capital of three or four thousand pounds, must not, indeed, expect to make a fortune in a few years; but he may with perfect confidence look to make himself an independent man, at a much more rapid rate than he could by means of double that sum in england. if he is prudent, nurses his capital, sticks to his business as a settler, avoids _tempting_ bargains of things he has no use for, and, above all, refrains from obliging his neighbours with the occasional loan of his name to a bill, i see not what can by possibility prevent his succeeding in such a country, even allowing that every third season should prove one of drought. to the industrious farmer with a small capital of l. or l., new south wales offers a fine field: he can obtain a hundred acres of the finest arable land in the world on a clearing-lease, with two years free for the clearing, and three or five years more on a moderate rent. a capital even of l. will enable him to fence his land, build himself a _bush_-house and out-offices, and maintain his family for two years; by which time it will be hard indeed, if he has not land enough under crop to return him something handsome. i have known many settlers of this kind thrive, and many others "go to the wall:" the former had a small capital to start with, while the latter commenced upon credit for the very bread required for their families; a plan i never knew to succeed. let but the settler stick to his business; the merchant be content with smaller profits than used to satisfy him, and cease giving long credit to all and everybody; let the banker be less grasping, and not quite so hard a creditor when he finds one of his customers in difficulties or reverses; let every one avoid speculations out of his strict line of business, and beware of accommodation-paper; and let the lower and middle classes avoid the public-house; and there is nothing to fear for australia. it has had a severe lesson administered to it, that ought to be a warning to all its inhabitants for the future. i have no hesitation in saying, that nine-tenths of the evils from which the colonists have suffered of late, have arisen from their own imprudence, and that these may be avoided in future by common caution, in spite of dry seasons and occasional failures of crops. now that colonization is extending up the coast from sydney northwards, and the inhabited parts of the colony already approach the tropic of capricorn, new south wales ought, in a few years, to be a rice and sugar-growing country. the soil on the banks of the rivers in the neighbourhood of moreton bay, is, from all accounts, equal to any thing hitherto known in the colony; and the climate is very highly spoken of. should the winter there prove too long or too severe for sugar-growing, (i do not see why it should be so,) parties anxious to try the culture of the cane as a means of making money, must in that case just move a little further north. there is an extensive field to explore, before they reach torres' straits. that new south wales will become an extensive wine-growing country, i conceive there is no room to doubt. its vineyards are magnificent, in every sense of the word. i have visited several of them, and was struck with the abundance and variety of their produce. two proprietors of my acquaintance have been for years in the practice of making wine of different sorts, but principally of the lighter kinds resembling the rhenish. i can vouch for their being very palatable, particularly during the summer months. one of the gentlemen alluded to has also made very good port wine and brandy. the greatest drawback on the commerce of new south wales, is the deficiency of exports, the balance of trade being greatly against the colony. its wool and oil are what merchants have hitherto principally depended upon, though other exports are now coming into play; viz. cedar-timber, hides, tallow, and salt provisions. still, i do not think that, even with these additions, the merchants of the colony can manage to make their exports equal in value to their imports; and were it not for the very considerable sums drawn for on the home government, by the military department, for the pay and provisions of the troops, necessity would compel the merchants of england to reduce their shipments to australia. the great fall in the price of the principal colonial staple, wool, has added very materially to the difficulties arising out of this state of affairs, by reducing the value of remittances made in that article to one half of what it used to be. the quantity of wool increases, it is true, from year to year, but not to such an extent as to counterbalance the fall in price; and it must be borne in mind, that, as fast as the wool increases, so does the population, and consequently the amount of imports in the shape of supplies, which have all to be remitted for. since the opening of the coast of china to the commerce of the world, (the result of our late struggle with that country,--a struggle so much condemned by those who were ignorant of the merits of the case,) the merchants of sydney seem to have entertained the idea, that their trade will benefit by the change. no one would rejoice more than myself at their anticipations proving correct; but i confess my judgment differs from theirs; and if we may judge by the result of their trial shipments, which arrived prior to my leaving china, it is to be feared they will find, to their cost, that they have reckoned without their host. the sydney merchants, from what i have heard, expect to find in china a market for horses, cattle, and sheep, coarse woollens, wine, and salt provisions. the first three have been tried, and the experiment has proved an utter failure: the horses were sent to calcutta, not a purchaser being found for one of them in hong kong. cattle are out of the question: they cannot be transported five thousand miles to undersell the chinese butcher, who gives fifteen pounds of good beef for a dollar--about - / d. per pound. this price, the sydney speculator cannot compete with, particularly as his beasts would certainly land in poor condition after so long a voyage, and either put him to the expense of fattening them, or compel him to sell at the low price of lean cattle. sheep have also been tried by several ship-masters, and did not answer: the last lot that came, were slaughtered and sold in the market, the only way in which they could be got rid of, and which would not answer the purpose of a large importer. for coarse woollens, a market may certainly be found in china; but whether a profitable one, or not, to the australian manufacturer, is, in my opinion, somewhat doubtful. labour is so much cheaper in britain than it is in australia, that, i fear, the sydney manufacturer would have but a poor chance, when his goods came into competition with those of manchester, either in the chinese or in any other market. whatever kinds of goods may be required on the coast of china, will soon be supplied from manchester and glasgow at the lowest possible figure, the object of the manufacturers of those places being, i presume, a large trade with moderate profits; so moderate, indeed, as to leave the sydney manufacturer no chance of competing with the means at the command of the british manufacturer. australian wool, like indian cotton, may be taken to england, be manufactured there, and sent out and sold in china, or anywhere else, for less money than it would cost the sydney capitalist to produce the manufactured article. as to wine, it will be a long time before new south wales has much to export; and the limited european population of china will not consume a sufficient quantity to be of importance to the australian vine-grower. the chinese cannot be counted upon as purchasers: they are not wine-drinkers, generally speaking; and the little they do consume, is manufactured to suit their own palates, in china. for salt provisions, there is a considerable demand in china, among the european shipping that visit its ports: they must, however, be cheaper in sydney than they were in my time, to answer the purpose of even a remittance. the americans bring to china excellent beef and pork, which they sell at ten and twelve dollars (about s. to s.) per barrel of two hundred pounds weight. if these prices will remunerate the sydney shipper, he may try his luck as soon as he likes; but he must not send an inferior article: if he does, he will sink his capital. cedar-timber has been tried recently, and has answered very well to a small extent: this, however, will last only till the town of victoria on the island of hong-kong is completely built. by every fresh outlet for surplus stock that can be pointed out to the australian grazier, we shall be rendering him a substantial service. sir robert peel's new tariff will enable him to dispose of many a spare fat bullock. of this opening he has already taken advantage, by sending trial shipments of salt beef to england. it appears to me, that the imports and exports of australia ought to be much nearer a balance than they are. to bring about this desirable state of things, it will be requisite to reduce the amount of the imports, which may be effected by giving up the importation of hams, bacon, cheese, butter, tobacco, and, in a great measure, grain. to see a pastoral country like new south wales importing butter and cheese, is an anomaly, and only proves the waste and carelessness of the owners of herds numerous enough to supply all europe with dairy produce. the importation of hams and bacon is another absurdity and evidence of wasteful husbandry. i have seen fruit, barn-sweepings, butter-milk, bran, &c. &c. wasted about a farm in australia, in quantities sufficient to feed and fatten a hundred pigs, which would have kept the establishment in meat for half the year. indeed, it is a common saying in the colony, that the waste on one of its farms, would make an english farmer's fortune. these may seem minor articles, but vast sums of money are annually paid for them to london dealers. besides these, are imported, pickles, preserved fruits, sweetmeats, shoes, clothing, and a thousand other articles, every one of which might be as well and as economically made in the colony, thereby saving thousands per annum. a coat or other article of dress can be made in sydney as well and as cheap as in london; and though the cloth must be obtained from england, there is no reason that the london tailor should benefit by the making, when the sydney one is in want of work, and is willing to work as cheap as his london brother. employing colonial workmen would keep vast sums of money in the country, that now go out of it. tobacco and snuff ought never to be imported, the colony being quite equal to producing more than sufficient for its own consumption. the quality of colonial tobacco used to be complained of; but that objection no longer exists. moreover, people who cannot complete their remittances for necessaries, have no right to be nice in their choice of luxuries. i am confident that i am within the mark, when i say, that , l. sterling per annum are paid to americans and others who import snuff and tobacco! this is a sum assuredly worth saving, and which the colonists could easily save, by encouraging the growth and consumption of their own produce. after what i have written upon the subject of australian agriculture, i may be thought to be making a bold assertion in saying, that the necessity for the importation of grain might, in a great measure, be done away with in australia. nevertheless, such is my opinion; and i will proceed to give my reasons. in the first place, there is a great waste of wheat, as well as of every thing else, on every farm in the colony. there is no gleaning; and what with the bad and careless threshing and the ill-thatched and worse-built stacks, which admit the rain, whereby thousands of bushels of wheat are destroyed, the waste is beyond any one's conception who has not actually witnessed it. in the second place, there is not nearly so much wheat grown in australia as there might and ought to be. a simple process of irrigation, such as the chinese or the javanese, the machinery for which would not cost l., and would employ only two men when in operation, applied to the wheat-fields in dry seasons once a month, would save many a crop. all, or nearly all the wheat in the colony, is grown on the banks of rivers, which, though they cease to flow in a season of drought, have always water in the deep parts of the channel or "water-holes." it requires no argument to prove, that irrigation, in such situations, is a very simple matter. two javanese, by means of a long lever attached to a tall tree on the bank of a river, with a large bucket and string at one end, and a string to hoist up by at the other end, will keep a small stream of water running over and fertilizing the neighbouring paddy-fields all day long, without fatiguing themselves. the chinese water-wheel is also a simple and cheap contrivance, and would throw up water enough, in two hours, to irrigate, or even to inundate a tobacco or wheat-field. all that is wanted, besides the labour of two men, is a series of wooden troughs to convey the water from the river bank to the highest part of the field, whence it is easily guided over the other parts. a little attention to irrigation might, in my humble opinion, very soon make new south wales independent of imported wheat. another means of doing away with the importation of grain and flour, may be found in paying more attention to the cultivation of maize. large quantities of it are grown at present, but they might easily be doubled.[ ] and here, irrigation would answer splendidly, the drills forming such convenient water-courses. large as is the quantity of maize grown in australia, it is not used as food for man;--why, i know not, but such is the fact;--and i have known a convict turn up his nose when offered corn-meal. every one knows how extensively this article is used in america, and how wholesome a food it is. were the australian farmers firmly and unanimously to determine upon making their dependents take at least half their weekly allowance in maize-meal, in place of wheaten flour, the latter would soon become fond of it. there would then be an inducement to extend its cultivation; and the large sums of money annually remitted to van diemen's land, valparaiso, and bengal, for wheat, would very shortly be reduced to a small cipher. [footnote : i do not mean to say, that irrigating an acre of wheat or maize would double the yield of grain, but that double the number of acres now under the plough would in a few years, after the irrigating system had been fairly tried and found to answer, be brought under cultivation. in the neighbourhood of bathurst, and in many other parts of the colony where rain is very uncertain, there are thousands of acres of alluvial land lying waste, which, upon my plan, would yield tens of thousands of bushels of wheat and maize.] to urge this most desirable object any further upon the colonists of new south wales, would be to insult their good sense. i will only express a wish that they may at once adopt measures to equalize their imports and exports, and that the few hints here thrown out to them, may be of use. the supply of tea and sugar to the australian colonies, has, on the whole, been a profitable trade to the parties engaged in it; but it has, of late, been overdone. the quality of the tea and sugar now sent to sydney, is far superior to what it used to be; and the coarser sorts of both are going out of use; a clear proof that the population are improving in respectability. formerly, nothing in the shape of either article was too bad to send out to australia. things have changed, however, and several speculators have been serious losers within the last three years, by sending goods that would have suited admirably six years ago. when i first went into the bush, you might visit a dozen of the most respectable houses without being able to get any thing better than the most common hyson-skin tea and very dark moist sugar. a cup or two of the liquid made from these, would poison an old indian; and i never ventured to drink it. a friend of mine, who absolutely dreaded being compelled to drink this stuff, used always to carry a paper of good black tea in his pocket, whenever he left his own house. he was in the right, though often laughed at. mauritius sugar used to be the favourite at the time i speak of; but now, manilla, singapore, and batavia are looked to for the supply of a better and cheaper article. from manilla the colonists import small supplies of coffee, chocolate, reed hats, and cheroots. singapore and batavia send them, in addition to sugar, quantities of rice, spices, dutch gin, tea brought thither by chinese junks, planks, &c. &c. singapore sends also a ship or two annually to south australia, port philip, and van diemen's land. chapter xiv. new south wales. classes of society in sydney--disappointment of emigrants--characteristics of irish and british emigrants--availableness of chinese labourers--australian coal monopoly--torres' straits the best passage for steamers--botany bay--passage from sydney to batavia. to obtain admission to good society in sydney, when my family first arrived there, was no easy matter. not that there was any lack of it in the place, but the residents were, very properly, shy of strangers, unless provided with testimonials as to their respectability. fortunately for us, a kind friend in singapore, who had been in new south wales, and knew the value of the favour he was conferring, supplied us with a whole packet of introductory letters to the first families in the place; while we were further aided in the matter by my old friend, thos. macquoid, esq., then sheriff of the colony. in a place like sydney, where society is formed of such varied and extraordinary materials suspicion of strangers, on the part of the really respectable portion of the community, is natural enough; and those who have not been sufficiently wary in this respect, have had cause to regret their want of caution. the tide of emigration is now bringing numerous highly respectable families to australia, as well as thousands of hard-working, honest labourers, while the importation of felons has ceased. this state of things will, in time, do away with the necessity for such extreme caution and mistrust. it will, however, take a number of years to clear the colony of the half-reformed villain who still hankers after his old ways,--of the _emancipist_, whom the law looks upon as a reformed character, but whom experience has taught the world to look upon with a very different eye,--and of the convicts for life, who still amount to thousands. until the colony is pretty well weeded of such characters, society will not, and cannot, dismiss the suspicion with which it is now rendered necessary, by circumstances, to regard the unintroduced stranger. i found no lack of agreeable society, both male and female, in any part of new south wales that i visited. in many instances, the conversation certainly turned rather too much upon sheep and cattle; but this ought to be excused, where ninety-nine hundredths earn their daily bread by means of those animals. in sydney, we found the dinner and evening parties highly agreeable, and composed of elegant, accomplished, and intelligent persons of both sexes. what more can be said of any community? during the government of sir richard bourke, an attempt was made by him to introduce into his own parties some emancipist families; and on one occasion, the grand-daughter of a late sydney hangman actually made her appearance at a ball at government-house. this fact being found out by the heads of families present, a representation was made to his excellency through his aide-de-camp, and, after some show of opposition on the part of the governor, a stop was put to it. i do not mean to say that, among the class called emancipists, consisting of persons who have been convicts, there may not be found men and women who have become thoroughly reformed and fit to adorn society. this, however, is the exception, not the rule. a large majority of the class in question are quite unfit for any company but that of a low pot-house. some of the most stylish equipages in sydney are the property of men who came to the colony with fetters on their legs. in them may be seen, any and every day, gayly-dressed women, driving about the town, shopping and lounging away their idle mornings. whether they are the wives, daughters, or mistresses of the owners of the carriages, it is difficult to tell; but the conclusion that every second one contains a mistress, would not be far from the truth. such is the society the unwary stranger sometimes falls into, before he knows what he is about; nor does he become fully aware of the evil consequences of his imprudence, till he finds out with whom he has been associating, and that all access to the really respectable society of the place is closed against him. it is quite as requisite for a stranger arriving in sydney to be on his guard as to his associates, as it is for residents to be careful whom they may admit into their families. there are many wealthy families in and near sydney, whose heads came as convicts to the colony. the days when such men could make rapid fortunes, are gone by; and the convict who looks for any thing of the kind now-a-days, will find himself wofully mistaken. there are too many respectable tradesmen in sydney for ex-felons to have much chance; and the time when a shopkeeper would not condescend to take a piece of cloth off his shelf to satisfy a customer, but would point to a lot with his stick, and ask, "which will you have?" has also gone by. every attention is now shewn to customers by sydney shopkeepers, some of whom are not a whit behind their london brethren in the art of recommending their wares. new south wales had been for many years a british colony, before any israelites found their way thither as _free_ men; and i have heard, that it was the return of a jewish convict with well-lined pockets, that first attracted their attention to his place of exile. be this as it may, there are more jews than enough in sydney now; they are to be found in every quarter of the town; and certainly, they keep up their ancient character for perseverance in search of their idol, money. i do not think, however, that i ever came across a jewish settler: why they seem to avoid that occupation, i know not. it is common, in australia, to hear persons talk of the colony as their adopted country, and so forth. no faith ought to be put in these declarations; nor do i believe there is a family in the colony, who do not entertain some hope of once more seeing their native land. during the time that high prices were obtainable for stock, hundreds of settlers who were wont to talk of their adopted country, used every exertion to realize their property in order to return to england. many succeeded, and actually left the colony, rejoicing in the idea of once more planting their foot on british ground. the exceptions to this general rule, are to be found in the emancipist class; in the persons of notorious scamps who could not shew their face in respectable society in england, and who have sense enough to know that they are better off in the southern, than, by any chance, they could be in the northern hemisphere. from extensive experience, i am convinced, that a very large majority of emigrants are lamentably disappointed on reaching the shores of australia. not that i think they have cause for half the complaints they make; but they have received, before leaving home, such flattering representations of the good fortune that is in store for them, that their expectations are raised to a pitch far beyond the probable, and disappointment is the natural consequence. the tales told them prior to their embarkation, render them difficult to please on their arrival; they demand exorbitant wages, and more rations than they could possibly consume without waste; and the consequence of this is, that many of them remain weeks and months in sydney, out of employment, living upon the little money brought from home, although, in the meantime, eligible offers may have been made them. this stay in sydney not only empties the emigrant's pocket, but breeds idle habits, leading him to the public-house, where his last penny is soon extracted from him. then comes want, with all the horrors of a starving wife and family; grown-up daughters are driven to prostitution; and the emigrant himself is ultimately compelled to accept any offer made him in his degraded state. this is no overdrawn or rare picture, as any one acquainted with the subject can testify. emigrants that come to the colony in what are called government ships, and who are brought out at the public expense, are provided for on their arrival, till employment offers for them; but, the moment they are known to have refused a fair offer, government aid ceases. even that circumstance, however, has little or no effect upon the more stubborn of them, who abate or yield in their demands only when compelled by necessity. many emigrants, from their fondness for a town life, refuse good offers of employment in the country. great evils arise from this: one is, that it frequently happens, that sydney is overrun with idle labourers in search of employment, while the settlers in the country are all crying out for help. to such a height had this evil risen, and to such distress were numbers of infatuated men reduced by remaining idle in town, that government was recently applied to for its interference, and actually paid the expense of sending hundreds of men into the country, where they got immediate employment, which they might have had many months before, had they been reasonable in their demands. it is remarked all over the colony, that the emigrants generally are very difficult to satisfy in the matter of rations; and that the man who had been the worst fed at home, was the most difficult to please abroad. an irishman is generally found the chief grumbler here; a scotchman ranks second; while an english peasant, who has all his life fared better than either, is found, in australia, to be most easily satisfied. i do not attempt to explain or account for this; i have, however, not only frequently observed it, but have heard my neighbours make the same remark. i hired an irish labourer and his wife, to whom i gave the following pay and rations:-- l. a year to the man; l. a year to his wife; weekly between the two, lbs. of beef, lbs. of flour, lbs. of sugar, oz. of tea, and oz. of tobacco. with this allowance, for half of which thousands of families in england would be thankful, the couple were not satisfied, and actually complained that they had not enough to eat. it was summer time when they came to my farm; and they were warned, that the blow-flies would destroy their meat, if it was not covered up: they were too lazy, however, to take the slightest care of it; and, as i saw their second week's allowance lying on a table the day after it was served out, covered with a mass of blow-flies, i took them severely to task for their wanton waste and neglect. but it was of no avail. and this couple had lived upon potatoes and butter-milk all their lives! it is but just to add, that, on mentioning to a major in an irish regiment, whom i subsequently met in china, the difficulty usually found in satisfying his countrymen in new south wales, he expressed his astonishment, and remarked that the reverse was generally found to be the case with irishmen in the army. several ships with emigrants from the highlands and islands of scotland, arrived at sydney during the years and . these people were, in general, unwilling to accept of employment in any shape, but preferred taking clearing-leases of small patches of land on their own account. this plan, many of them succeeded in carrying into execution, much to the disappointment and annoyance of the community at whose expense they had been brought to the colony; and it was reasonably complained, that these men, in place of supplying the labour-market, as was intended, actually created an increased demand for labour, by requiring aid in their own operations before the first twelvemonth had passed over them. be this as it may, they are a hard-working, industrious set of men; and whether their plans raise or depress wages, they have added materially to the quantity of grain grown in the colony. now that we have a footing in china, i would draw the attention of the inhabitants of new south wales to hong kong for an unlimited supply of cheap labour. there, by means of an agent on the spot, they may procure thousands of able-bodied labourers, who will go to australia for five dollars ( s. d.) per month, with their food. this rate of pay is much lower than what is paid to european labourers; and the ration of rice for the china-man might be procured from java, bally, or lombak, and laid down in sydney at (or under) three halfpence per pound; which is as cheap as no. flour in the most abundant seasons, and much cheaper than that article usually is. for field-work, the china-man is fully equal to the european labourer. i speak advisedly, having tried them together, side by side, for months at a time. in a recent singapore paper i find it stated, that the home authorities have authorised an agent to treat for the transmission of chinese labourers from the straits' settlements to the west indies; and, from my knowledge of those places, i have no doubt that thousands of men will be induced to avail themselves of this new market for their labour. had new south wales the same permission from government, she might be equally, and probably more successful, because china-men always prefer emigrating to a country having frequent communication with their own. this advantage, new south wales possesses over the west indies, for as many as twenty or thirty vessels annually leave sydney for china. there would be no difficulty in getting the chinese labourer bound for five years, his pay to begin from the day he landed in sydney, and his passage down to be paid by his employer. this last charge would add s. per annum to his wages; but even then, he would be the cheapest labourer within reach of the australian farmer. many gentlemen have turned their attention to bengal for a supply of labour. the men procurable from that country, are not equal in physical strength to the china-men, nor are they to be had for lower pay. i had six bengal coolies in my employ in the bush, and have no hesitation in saying, that three china-men would have done their work. the proper immigrant to obtain from bengal, if the colonists choose to apply to that part of the world, is the pariah, the man of no caste, who will eat any thing, apply himself to any kind of work, even to the killing, curing, or eating a pig, and give far less trouble than any of the high-caste men. the best season for despatching ships with emigrants from china to new south wales, is from november till february, both inclusive. a source of vast wealth will open to australia on the expiration of the agricultural company's coal-monopoly. that body, on its establishment in the colony, obtained the privilege of working coal for thirty years, to the exclusion of all others. the injustice of granting such a privilege to a company who do not work more than one coal-mine, when there are literally thousands on the eastern coast of this continent, is too obvious to require comment. many landed proprietors who have rich veins of coal on their estates, are, under the present regulation, actually compelled to purchase the agricultural company's coal for the use of their own kitchens. it may well be imagined, that the money is paid with a very bad grace. up to the time i left sydney, the only coal-pit in operation was one at newcastle, at the mouth of the river hunter. from this source, an abundant supply of very fair quality was obtained, for which, if i mistake not, s. per ton was demanded at the pit's mouth. the company's coal waggons descend the hill from the pit, by an inclined plane, on iron rails, the descending waggon dragging up the empty one. at the foot of this inclined plane, a wharf or jetty runs a little way into the sea, so that vessels of four or five hundred tons burthen can haul alongside, and have their cargoes shot by waggon-loads down their hatches. all this is as it should be; and when forty or fifty such pits are in full work, australia may expect to reap some benefit from her mineral riches. the importance of a never-failing supply of coal in these days of steam travelling, is too evident to require a single word of remark. talking of steam puts me in mind of the anxiety felt in australia to secure the advantage of the indian overland mail, and of a plan for effecting their object which i have frequently thought of. on the arrival of the mail at port essington, from singapore, why should it not be sent to sydney in a steamer by sea, _viâ_ captain king's _inner passage_ through torres' straits, instead of adopting the far more expensive and _uncertain_ overland route formerly mentioned? this may seem a bold, and, to most people, an extraordinary suggestion; the plan is, however, in my opinion, practicable at all seasons of the year, though more particularly so during the fine or south-east monsoon. i have sailed through torres' straits, and would not hesitate a moment to undertake to carry a powerful steamer from port essington to sydney, through the admirably surveyed channel just mentioned. during the south-east monsoon, from april till september, the wind would be against her; but she would have the benefit of moderate and clear weather, and find no difficulty in seeing and evading every danger. in the north-west monsoon, the steamer would have a fair wind, but hazy weather, with frequent squalls to contend against. the thick weather would undoubtedly be a disadvantage, as it would render objects less easily distinguishable; but then, the strong north-west winds and squalls would knock up a heavy sea, which would make the water break on every reef, thereby rendering them easily both seen and _heard_ in the thickest weather. on the coast of sumatra, i have heard the breakers seven miles off. allowing that they can be heard half that distance, this would give a steamer plenty of time and space to keep clear of them. running in the night would, of course, be out of the question in any season. it appears to me, that there is as much real danger in beating through the palaware passage in november and december, which dozens of vessels do every year, as there possibly could be to a steamer in passing to and fro between port essington and sydney, at any season of the year, by king's inner passage. the weather in the palaware, during the months i have mentioned, is as thick and stormy as can well be imagined; and the reefs, shoals, and other perils of navigation are numerous enough. the best route for passengers proceeding to australia from suez, would be _viâ_ ceylon, whence a steamer would run down south-south-east to the fortieth parallel of south latitude in thirteen days, under steam: then she would get the prevailing strong westerly winds, which would take her under canvas to hobart town in ten or twelve days: let her stop two days there to take in coal and land passengers, and, in three days more, she would be in sydney. by this route, the passenger for sydney would find himself at his journey's end in sixty-three or sixty-five days from southampton, while the mail _viâ_ marseilles would be of four days shorter date. i have my doubts, indeed, whether new south wales is in a position to bear the expense of such a plan: it certainly could not be a profitable venture for years to come; and whether the colonists would be willing to be so much per annum out of pocket, in the meantime, remains to be seen. in describing port jackson, i omitted to notice the neighbouring harbour, called botany bay, originally discovered by captain cook, and subsequently abandoned for its rival. it is a noble and beautiful bay, entered through a gap in the cliff facing the pacific. this being much wider than that leading into port jackson, and the heads not overlapping each other in the least, botany bay is exposed to the fury of the easterly gales, which renders it, during their prevalence, an unsafe harbour. from its great width, i was induced to suppose that this evil might be obviated by ships seeking shelter behind the heads; but, on inquiry, i learned, that the depth of water does not admit of this: the water is shallow all round the bay, which compels vessels to anchor a considerable distance from the shore, and leaves them exposed to the eastward. in short, as a harbour, it will not bear comparison with port jackson. the name of botany bay was given to it from the very great variety and beauty of the native flowers found on its shores. i am not botanist enough to describe these flowers, but i noticed them with surprise and admiration. i saw nothing else, however, to attract any one to the neighbourhood: the soil is wretchedly poor, principally covered with scrub, and, with the exception of a few spots in the hollows, utterly valueless to the farmer. a few half-starved cows only, belonging to sydney families, and called the town herd, may be seen picking up the poor and scanty herbage. in this neighbourhood, the sydney hounds meet, and occasionally amuse their proprietors, by chasing a miserable "native dog" to death. the only buildings of any interest on the shores of this bay, are, the monument built by the french government to the memory of the unfortunate la perouse, and a solitary mill on the banks of a little stream that runs into it from the westward. how this mill is employed in such a lonely place, where no cultivation is to be seen, i cannot imagine, but should not wonder if a few pounds' weight of tobacco and gallons of spirits found their way into the colony hereabout, without benefiting the revenue. in april , i left the shores of australia, with my family, bound for batavia and singapore _viâ_ torres' straits. we had a fine run up the coast, and made the celebrated barrier reef on the morning of the fourteenth day after leaving sydney. we were fortunate in finding a magnificent entrance into the straits, in latitude ° ' south, and were fairly inside the barrier by nine a. m. this entrance, which is at least three miles wide, it is worth any ship's while to seek for: it may be known by two small rocks on the south side, as you enter, resembling hay-cocks in shape and size: we saw them three miles off, and they were the only objects visible above water, on the portion of the barrier within our view. from our entrance, we had a fine run, and found nothing to stop us for a minute (during daylight), till clear of booby island at the western end of the straits, which we passed at a. m. on the seventeenth day from sydney. these celebrated straits pick up and destroy some half a dozen ships annually, and are so much dreaded by underwriters, that they refuse to insure loaded vessels through them. from my own observation, and what i have heard from others who have passed through torres' straits on various occasions, it appears to me, that a great proportion of this loss of property arises from carelessness on the part of ship-masters. the current in the pacific ocean runs very strong to the north-west in the neighbourhood of the barrier; and this current is often forgotten or not sufficiently allowed for by ship-masters the night before they expect to make the reef. at sun-down, the night before we made it, we were eighty miles from it; we went under easy sail all night, and, from the distance _logged_ during the night, expected to make the reef at noon, having made all sail at daylight; instead of which, we came _suddenly_ on it at a. m., thus having been thrown four hours out of our reckoning since sun-set the night before. many ships, by not heaving-to at all, or not doing so in time, the night previous to making the reef, drift too far to the northward during the night, miss the passage they were endeavouring to make, and are compelled to run along the reef in search of another; for there is no getting back to the southward against wind and current. this neglect throws many a vessel up to the murray islands' passages, which are notoriously the most dangerous, and are now generally avoided by shipping. then there is hazy weather occasionally in those parts, even in the finest months: during its continuance, no vessel ought to approach the barrier, though many are imprudent enough to do so, and too frequently pay the penalty. in the barrier, there are many gaps, called "horse-shoes," which, in thick weather, look like real entrances, the breakers at the bottom of them not being visible from the ship. i have known many vessels lost by taking a horse-shoe for a real entrance in hazy weather. other vessels get wrecked from paying too little attention to the dangers that beset them, after getting safe through the barrier. there are small patches of reef here and there, in the middle of the many channels that run between the main reefs: these pick up many vessels that might be saved, were a careful look-out kept on board. i could give instances of losses happening in each of these ways; but the careless have suffered so severely from their neglect, that i would not hurt them by naming the ships. we had a fine run to batavia, where we arrived in thirty-one days from sydney. a sail from australia to any part of the malayan archipelago, during the south-east monsoon, is, perhaps, the pleasantest voyage a traveller could undertake: he has smooth water and a fair wind all the way, with a constant succession of magnificent scenery among the numerous islands of perpetual summer with which those seas are studded. i have heard many seamen talk lightly of the dangers of torres' straits and the barrier reef, and have known more than one of those over-confident gentry subsequently wrecked there. for my own part, i have a great awe of those dangers, and can vouch for some ship's crews having the same feeling. on our approach to the barrier, our crew, which consisted of as rattle-pated a set as sailors usually are, were doubly active, obeyed every order with alacrity, and so quietly, that the fall of a pin might have been heard at any part of the ship. some ships avoid entering the barrier towards sun-set: this precaution is unnecessary, if they are sure that the entrance they are approaching is a true one. although, outside the barrier, there are no soundings at a hundred fathoms, a ship is not twice her own length _inside_ it, before she is in good anchorage with eighteen to twenty-five fathoms water. there, she may drop her anchor, and ride in perfect safety till daylight enables her to pursue her course. were she to keep outside all night, the current would drift her to the northward, and compel her to seek a fresh entrance next day. the barrier reef extends from the coast of new holland to that of papua or new guinea, with numerous gaps or entrances in it, which appear to be kept open by the current that, for six months in the year, runs through them from the pacific to the indian seas, and in the contrary direction during the other six. notwithstanding this current, however, i think it extremely probable, that the industrious coral insect, whose labours never cease within the tropics, will, sooner or later, fill up the entire space, close torres' straits, and join those two mighty islands, between which the barrier reef, or, more properly, reefs, now stand like a line of gigantic stepping-stones. the gaps in the reef, in and about the ninth and tenth parallels of south latitude, are much narrower than those further south, some of them being not twenty yards wide; which looks as if, agreeably to my theory, the minute architect had commenced operations on the coast of papua, and was gradually working his way southward. what a magnificent line for a rail-road this reef will then make, with the boundless pacific on one side, and the reefs and islands of the straits on the other! what a splendid thoroughfare would this highway form to new guinea, new britain, new ireland, and the countless islands in their immediate vicinity! but i shall be thought to be looking _rather too far_ into futurity. on our passage from booby island to the java sea, we passed through the straits of alas, which run between the islands of lombak and sambawa. the scenery in these straits is very fine. on the left, you have lombak hill, feet high, sloping gradually from the peak to the sea, and covered with thick forest. on the right, is the coast of sambawa, exhibiting the most extraordinary collection of sugar-loaf hills i ever saw: they look as if they had been dropped there at random in a shower. the whole collection would hardly be seen on the top of lombak hill. half this island was laid completely waste in , by an eruption of one of its volcanic mountains: thousands of the inhabitants, with their cattle and poneys, were killed; and the effects are visible on the spot to this day. sambawa is celebrated for its race of poneys, which are certainly very fine, spirited little animals. hundreds of them are brought by the native boats every year to batavia and singapore, at both which places they meet with a ready market. chapter xv. china. description of macao--its mongrel population-- frequency of robberies--piracies--compradore system--papuan slave-trade--market of macao-- nuisances--sir henry pottinger's regulation defended--illiberal policy of the portuguese, and its result--boat-girls--beggars--picturesque scenery. i have referred, in a former chapter, to the occasion of my first visit to the celestial empire. my last visit took place shortly after sir henry pottinger had brought the chinese to terms, off the city of nankin, and before the treaty had been ratified by the sovereigns of both countries. my stay there was protracted till the ratification took place, the supplementary treaty published, and her majesty's consuls stationed at each of the five ports, with the exception of foo chow. i had thus an opportunity of witnessing the first start of the free trade; of which i shall have a few words to say hereafter. i shall now begin with macao. this once celebrated portuguese settlement is built on two small hills of a peninsula about thirty-five miles below the bocca tigris, or mouth of the canton river: it is irregularly built, the streets being very narrow and crooked, and, until very recently, badly paved with rough granite stones of all shapes, the corners generally pointing upwards, as if to teach the inhabitants to walk with caution. it possesses a healthy climate, though the summer is very hot, the thermometer ranging in the shade from ° to °. many of the houses occupied by the wealthier portion of the inhabitants, are large, airy, and convenient residences. since the war with china broke out, macao, which had greatly declined from its ancient importance, has thriven, and many of its citizens have become wealthy in consequence of the british trade to china being thrown by circumstances into its harbour. the local government have taken advantage of the times, to improve the town, to re-pave the streets, to build a new and handsome custom-house, and to make other improvements at john bull's expense. the portuguese inhabitants of macao amount to about five thousand, not two hundred of whom are of pure european blood. the general population are, with few exceptions, of a mongrel breed; a mixture of chinese, portuguese, and negroes, which it is difficult to describe. nine-tenths of them are very poor, but all of them are very proud, and fond of show and dress. it is quite amusing to see the pompous strut of the men on a sunday, as they walk to mass in their ill-made silk coats, with gold-headed sticks in hand. both men and women are the worst-favoured race i ever saw: their flat, unmeaning countenances, small, lacklustre eyes, strong, upright, black hair, resembling hogs' bristles more than aught else, and yellow skins, form a _tout ensemble_ any thing but pleasing. the men adopt the european fashions. the ladies wear the mantilla; and the women of the poorer classes wear a petticoat and small jacket, generally of british chintz, with a mantilla of coarser material. the very poorest of them may be seen, on sunday morning, going to mass in silk stockings. the wealthier portuguese reside in large and comfortable houses, but the lower orders inhabit wretched hovels, and suffer very severely from sickness, particularly the small-pox; a scourge that carried off, during the winter and spring of - , one thousand people,--just a fifth of the whole portuguese population. their habits are idle and dirty. i am not aware, indeed, of ever having seen a more filthy town than macao. no one seems to think that the streets were made for any other purpose than to serve as reservoirs for all the filth of the houses that line them. heaps of abominable rubbish are seen here and there, which would be still more numerous, were it not for the occasional heavy rains, which wash down the steep streets, and carry off the accumulated masses to the sea. a few days before christmas , the town underwent a general sweeping; an event that did not take place again till that time twelvemonth. the other inhabitants of macao are, chinese, negroes, and a few english and americans. the chinese here are nearly all of the lower orders, and, for the most part, are not over-scrupulous how they get their living: in proof of which i may mention, that four highway robberies, accompanied with violent assault, took place in the immediate neighbourhood, in open day, during the stay of six weeks which i made there in the autumn of . the shopkeepers and boatmen are all chinese; and among them may be found some as thorough-bred scoundrels as ever disgraced humanity. during the year , the following crimes were perpetrated by chinese in and about macao: they were clearly brought home to them, and, in all probability, do not form a tenth of what might with justice be laid to their charge:-- . mr. sharpe's _lorcha_ (trading-boat), on her voyage from macao to canton, was piratically attacked within ten miles of the former place, and plundered of her cargo of opium; mr. sharpe was murdered, and five of his crew; the rest, being chinese, were taken off by the pirates, (they subsequently proved to be their associates,) and the _lorcha_ was burned. . a _lorcha_ bound from hong kong to macao, manned by macao chinese, and loaded with spice and other valuable property, was carried off by her crew, (who murdered an english doctor on board,) the cargo plundered, and the vessel burned. . another _lorcha_, bound from macao to hong kong, with a general cargo and two passengers, was carried off in the same way, plundered, and then burned: the unfortunate passengers (two respectable young men; one an irishman, named clark, the other from shetland, a mr. clunis) were in like manner murdered. . a boat was sent off from macao with a box of treasure containing some , dollars, under the charge of a parsee clerk of the firm to whom the money belonged. they left the shore at two p. m., and the ship they were bound to was at anchor only five miles off. the non-appearance of the treasure which was expected on board, caused the captain to go on shore to make inquiries about five in the afternoon: his questions alarmed the parsee merchant, who had sent off the money and his clerk at two. strict inquiry was instituted, and the result was, the certainty that the poor man had been murdered and thrown overboard by the boat's crew, who made off with the money. . a boat was sent from a ship in the harbour called the _typa_, to one in the outer roads, to transship fourteen chests of opium: the crew consisted of four chinese and one lascar, with the second mate in charge. the opium was taken in, and the boat started on her return to the _typa_ about two p. m. when about half way between the two harbours, the four chinese suddenly dropped their oars, seized the mate and lascar, stunned them with the boat's tiller, and threw them overboard: their bodies were picked up next day, and gave the first intimation of their fate. two of the pirates were subsequently caught and executed; but the property, worth , dollars, was irretrievably lost. . a british merchant in macao sent an order off to his ship in the _typa_, to bring on shore, in the course of the day, a box containing dollars: the money was put into a boat belonging to the vessel at ten in the forenoon, and started for the inner harbour, about an hour's pull. she was attacked by a fast-pulling chinese boat, when about half way between the ship and the shore, and robbed of the dollars; but no violence was offered to the crew, who were china-men. when this money was being packed and put into the boat, some chinese sailors on board the ship were observed making signs as if to some one at a distance: no notice was taken of this circumstance at the time, though it was remarked upon when too late. i could enumerate other cases of a similar nature; but these six are sufficient for my present purpose. the chinese servants in the employ of europeans at macao, canton, and hong kong, are, without exception, the most consummate set of scamps it has ever been my fortune to encounter. their whole study from morning to night and from night to morning, is, how to cheat their masters. there is not an article put upon the table, that is not charged at four times its value. if you keep a cow, or even a dozen cows, not one drop of milk can you obtain, more than barely enough for daily use; and should any attempts be made to punish either the cowkeeper or the head servant for their villany, ten to one that your cows are poisoned before another week passes over your head. this state of things might be, in a great measure, put a stop to, were masters to pay more attention to their domestic affairs; but most of the european merchants of china, being men of wealth, and engaged in mercantile transactions of great importance, deem such matters beneath their notice; and thus, the system goes on to the serious loss and inconvenience of less wealthy men. i knew one instance in which a housekeeper by perseverance reduced his market-bill from dollars per month to dollars; but the consequence was, that his servants to a man left him: he could obtain no good ones in their place, and was ultimately obliged to give in. as a set-off against this crying evil, i may mention the practice which prevails, of the _compradore_ (or head servant) becoming security for those under him, and finding security on his own part to a certain amount, varying according to circumstances; so that, if any of the under-servants steal the plate or any other property of their master's, the _compradore_, as a matter of course, makes good its value. the negroes here, as in most other parts of the world where they are met with, are slaves, poorly fed, hard worked, and occasionally very severely flogged. every house in macao occupied by a man of any substance, has its slaves; and the government is a large slave-holder. all the porters at the custom-house and other public offices are slaves. these unfortunate creatures are brought from papua by portuguese vessels, which pay an annual visit to the settlements of their countrymen on the island of timor. how they are obtained from papua, i am not aware; but that some hundreds of them are carried to macao every season, and sold there, is a fact beyond contradiction. this abominable traffic received a check last season ( ) from the java government. it appears that a portuguese barque called the _margaretta_, the owner of which was a wealthy inhabitant of macao, sailed from timor for macao in the month of september, with some fifty slaves on board, _all children under ten years of age_. some accident compelled her to call at batavia for repairs, where her master reported the children as having been sent by the authorities at timor to macao, to be brought up in the roman-catholic faith. the suspicions of the dutch authorities were, however, awakened, and the proceedings of the portuguese ship-master were narrowly watched. a few days only had elapsed, when he was detected in endeavouring to sell two of the unfortunate infants to a chinese for guilders ( l.) each. this led to the examination of his bills of lading and other papers, when it was found, that the children had been regularly shipped and _manifested_ as slaves. the result was, the confiscation of ship and cargo, and the liberation of the young captives, who, i presume, (though i am not sure on the point,) were, as usual, apprenticed out as domestic servants to families in want of them. i gave the admiral on the china station full particulars of this event; and hope that he will cause a sharp look-out to be kept on the portuguese vessels returning from timor next autumn. the market of macao is well supplied with game, butchers' meat, pork, poultry, fruit, and vegetables: all these might be had on very reasonable terms, if the chinese seller were allowed his own way; but, before he reaches the market from his home, he is taxed and re-taxed by every petty rogue of a mandarin whose station he may happen to pass on his way. on reaching the market, he is taxed again, and is compelled to sell to the general dealer, who squeezes him to the last _cash_, and re-sells at an exorbitant profit to the englishman's _compradore_, who charges his master, on a moderate calculation, four times what he gave; so that, by the time the englishman's dinner is on his table, it costs him no trifle. game is plentiful only in winter, which sets in in november. wild ducks, teal, pheasants, partridges, snipe, with an occasional deer, are to be had, all fat and in prime order, at this season. the chinese bullock is a compact little animal, and, when fattened, yields remarkably good beef. macao, like all portuguese towns, is well stocked with priests; and were we to judge from the number of them who are seen parading the streets, as, also, from that of women constantly bending their steps church-ward, the inhabitants must be a very devout race. from seven in the morning till dusk, the streets are rarely free from church-going ladies; many of them followed by negro slaves carrying their kneeling-rugs and prayer-books. one of the greatest nuisances in macao is the perpetual ringing or tolling of church-bells, day and night: as soon as one stops, another begins; and the sleep-killing ding-dong is kept up at a rate that, in the warm nights of summer, is enough to drive a stranger frantic. every house has a watchman, who goes his rounds from eight in the evening till daylight next morning, and, every half hour, beats a hollow bamboo with a heavy stick, making noise enough to disturb the soundest sleeper. this keeping a watchman is neither more nor less than paying black-mail. any housekeeper who should seek to evade the imposition by doing without a guardian of the night, would infallibly be plundered in a week or two, the thieves being, most probably, conducted to his premises by some neighbour's watchman. the streets of macao being narrow, rough, crooked, and, in general, very steep, wheel-carriages of any description are entirely unknown. their place is supplied by sedan-chairs of chinese make, carried by chinese porters: these may be hired for a dollar per day, and are very convenient, either in wet or in extremely hot weather. the bearers, like those of their profession in england, are apt to impose upon strangers, who must be on their guard till they become acquainted with the ways of the place. macao is infested with loathsome beggars, who scruple not to expose their ulcerated legs, arms, &c. for the purpose of exciting the charitable feelings of the passer-by. they make a point of stopping at the door of any shop in which they see a european, whose ears they immediately assail with the most discordant noise, by beating a hollow bamboo with a stick; a mode of annoyance which the law of china allows, and which is carried on in macao; but, in the neighbouring british settlement, an entire stop has been put to it. this, they well know, will soon cause the shopkeeper to give them a _cash_[ ] or two, or his customer to leave the premises. in china, no native can turn a beggar from his door, till he has given him something in the shape of charity: the merest trifle, however, is sufficient to authorize the forcible expulsion of the applicant. i have seen as little as a tea-spoonful of rice given on such occasions, when the sulky and grumbling mendicant took his reluctant departure towards the next door, where he would, perhaps, meet similar treatment with a repetition of "curses not loud, but deep." [footnote : one thousand of these make a dollar, so that the value of one is less than a quarter of a farthing.] the portuguese of macao made a great ado on sir henry pottinger's declaring their settlement, in as far as british subjects were concerned, part of the dominions of the emperor of china: this, at first sight, appeared strange to many people besides the macao citizens, but, when the subject received due consideration, sir henry was found to be quite correct in the view he had taken of it. macao is _not_ a portuguese settlement, in the proper sense of that word, but only a territory leased to that power on certain terms, for which an annual tribute or rent is paid to this day. the chinese laws are in force here; their mandarins levy duties, and tax every article sold in its markets; its porters, boatmen, _compradores_, &c. require chinese licenses, but not portuguese: in short, the chinese are lords of the manor, and the portuguese are mere tenants, with leave to build forts, and to levy certain duties on the commerce of the place. looking at the matter in this light, every unprejudiced person must admit, that sir henry pottinger, in exercising the power vested in him by her majesty's government, and in framing regulations for the wholesome restraint of her majesty's subjects visiting china, (some of whom, it may be remarked, are troublesome and very unruly characters,) was perfectly right in including the peninsula of macao in the dominions of his celestial majesty. the portuguese were very indignant; at least, they pretended to be so; but it never would have done, to allow british subjects, fleeing from their creditors or from justice, to have an asylum where they could safely evade the laws of their own country, at a foreign station scarcely forty miles from the new british settlement of hong kong.[ ] [footnote : the present governor of hong kong, sir john davis, has gone even further than sir henry pottinger, and has given notice to the authorities at macao, that british subjects are no longer amenable to their laws. this is as it should be, and as it ought to have been a hundred years ago.] the trade of macao was of very little importance, and its revenues never paid its expenses, till the late chinese war broke out. circumstances then drove the british merchants from canton, and nearly the whole of them took up their abode in macao, where they continued till the portuguese government was called upon by the chinese to refuse them further protection. they were then compelled to seek shelter on board the shipping of their country, where many of them remained for nearly twelvemonths, till the course of events allowed of their returning to macao. their presence soon attracted hundreds of wealthy and respectable chinese dealers, and quadrupled the trade of the place, as well as its revenue; which enabled the portuguese governor to make a handsome remittance to lisbon, in place of drawing upon that city for some , dollars annually, as he had hitherto been in the constant practice of doing, to rebuild many of the public edifices, and to improve the town generally, while it added much to the wealth and comfort of almost every woman and child in the place. this was a piece of good fortune the portuguese of macao most certainly did not deserve, their system, as regards foreign commerce, being as illiberal as can well be imagined. during the time they were reaping this rich harvest from british trade, british subjects were not permitted to land or ship a single package of goods nor to have their names entered in the custom-house books. on the arrival of a ship with goods suited to the macao market, the english consignee was obliged to employ a portuguese citizen to enter and pass them through the custom-house, before a package could be landed. the duties, also, were exorbitant; and, strange as it may appear, they even taxed money, which could not be imported without paying one per cent. duty. i have elsewhere seen an _export_ duty put on treasure; but the macao government is the only one i ever knew to impose any restrictions on the importation of a commodity which most governments, as well as individuals, are generally anxious to receive, in unlimited quantity, without taxing those who bring it to them. no english vessel was allowed to enter their inner harbour: this privilege was reserved for spaniards and portuguese. on one occasion, a small british schooner of war was proceeding into this haven, her commander never imagining that the restriction put on the merchant vessels of his country could possibly extend to her britannic majesty's pennant: he was mistaken, however, and the first battery he came near, threatened to fire into him. the threat was of course disregarded, and the little schooner, in defiance of portuguese batteries, quietly pursued her way. how this state of things could be so long put up with by the british government, it is hard to understand. when one considers that portugal owes its very existence as a nation to england; that macao, on more than one occasion, was saved from the fury of a chinese army and rabble, during the late war, by british ships and men; that nine-tenths of the money that passes through its coffers, is english money; that portuguese citizens visiting the different ports of british india, are free to come and go, land and ship their goods in their own names, hold houses and other fixed property, and act in all respects as british subjects, and as seemeth most for their own interest; when, i say, these facts are considered, one is utterly at a loss to conceive why great britain should suffer her subjects to be cramped in their mercantile pursuits by so very insignificant a power as portugal. now that it is too late, the authorities of macao have discovered their error, and mended their manners, by opening the inner harbour to british shipping, by allowing british merchants to land and ship goods in their own names, and by lowering the duties on several articles of british manufacture. these changes, which would have been accepted as boons two years before, were adopted only when the portuguese found nearly every british merchant building warehouses and private dwellings in hong kong. had they been made prior to the commencement of those buildings, i have good reasons for supposing, that many of them never would have been begun, their proprietors having a great dislike to the new british settlement on account of its reputed unhealthiness,--a reputation, i am sorry to say, it has too well sustained. dozens of houses in macao are already vacant; dozens more will be so before another six months shall elapse; hundreds of families who have depended on their house-rent and on money earned in other ways from british subjects for their daily bread, will be reduced to want; many of them will and must emigrate to hong kong; and macao, with its streets of new houses, built in anticipation of the continued residence of foreign merchants, will sink into utter insignificance, and become as a place that has been, but is no more. its governor will again have to draw, for the means of paying the expenses of the place, on his royal mistress at lisbon, who will then reap the well-merited reward of an illiberal and short-sighted policy. if a passenger, on his arrival at macao, lands in the inner harbour, he has to pass his baggage through the portuguese custom-house, where it will be not only thoroughly examined, but also, very probably, plundered. a trunk of my own, which _i saw_ carried into this building along with several others, never came out again: its contents were valuable, and were much missed by my family. what became of them, i know not; but certain i am, that the custom-house authorities of macao made away with them. if the passenger chooses to land at the outer harbour, he encounters the _chinese_ custom-house, where he is charged so much for each package, in the shape of duty, and is allowed to pass on without bare-faced robbery. some sixteen years ago, this chinese custom-house was in the practice of levying a dollar per package on a passenger's luggage, a similar sum on his wife, and on every female child, while the boys passed free. this does not tell to the credit of chinese gallantry. things are altered now, however; and ladies with their daughters are permitted to land without let or hinderance. when a foreign vessel anchors in macao roads, (a very exposed anchorage by the way,) she is speedily visited by three or four _compradores'_ boats, which come out in search of employment, and with offers to supply the ship with fresh provisions, &c., during her stay. the _compradore_ is a very useful fellow, but, in nine cases out of ten, a great rogue, who scruples not to swell out his bill against the ship by various means the reverse of fair. they all speak broken english. in moderate weather, they go twenty or thirty miles out to sea in quest of inward-bound vessels. the first time i went to china, we were boarded by a _compradore's_ boat previously to making the land. a fresh breeze was blowing at the time, before which the ship was going eight knots an hour: this, however, did not prevent the chinese boatmen from dashing alongside in very smart style, hooking on by the fore-chains with their own rope, and disdaining the aid of a line thrown from the vessel to hang on by. mr. _compradore_ appeared on the poop, "_chin-chinning_," while we strangers were looking with admiration at the activity of his men in the boat. the captain engaged him to attend the ship, on which he immediately started for macao, and was alongside again by daylight next morning, with a most welcome supply of fresh beef, vegetables, &c. in the _compradore's_ boat, passengers can generally get a passage on shore, or, rather, to within a few hundred yards of the beach. the boatmen are afraid to approach nearer, on account of the mandarins, who are apt to _squeeze_ them, if they are seen landing foreigners. the remaining distance is usually got over in small _tancea_, or ferry-boats, numbers of which ply about macao in all directions, invariably guided by women, called, from their mode of life, "_tancea-girls_." poor things! they work hard for their daily bread, being constantly exposed to the sun in summer, and to cold in winter. they live in their boats, which, at night, are snugly covered up with a roof made of a bamboo frame, the interstices filled up with thick matting, and, in the whole course of their lives, never pass a night on shore. they are said to be of a peculiar race, and never intermarry with the real chinese, who look down upon them with contempt. the scenery round macao is striking, and some of the views are particularly so: that from the hill immediately behind the town, is perhaps the best. from this spot you have a bird's-eye view of the whole town, the beach, with its hundreds of large and small chinese boats, on your left; further on, in the same direction, macao roads with the foreign shipping; while, beyond these, the islands of lingting, lantow, and numerous others of smaller size, are seen in the distance: to the right, you catch an occasional glimpse of the numerous rivers and arms of the sea, with numbers of picturesque chinese boats gliding about, literally among the hills and dales; and, here and there, a chinese village is seen, with its little patch of cultivation, its herds of buffaloes and pigs, and countless groupes of little celestials. casting your eye along this view from north to south, you come to the harbour called "_typa_" in which there are generally some thirty or forty vessels at anchor, and which, though an arm of the sea, looks here like an inland lake. this view, on a clear day, would delight the painter, though it has one great deficiency, namely, the entire absence of trees. the hills in the neighbourhood, far and near, are completely bare. such is macao, a miserable, dirty, crowded town, rendered important for a while by its locality, but now fast sinking back into its native insignificance, owing to the gross stupidity of the portuguese authorities, more than to any other cause. proceed we now to the new british settlement of hong kong. chapter xvi. china. advantageous position of hong kong--the opium trade--importance of the station in the event of a fresh war--chusan--how to raise a revenue-- causes of alleged insalubrity--rapid progress of the settlement--portuguese penury-- markets--sanatory hints. having spent twelve months in hong kong, i will now endeavour to give an impartial sketch of its situation as to trade, its importance in the event of another chinese war, and of its climate, general appearance, and commercial progress. situated as this island is at the mouth of the canton river, and in the immediate neighbourhood of an immense trade, one can hardly question the prudence of the choice that fixed upon it for a british settlement. it has not yet (july ) been two years in our possession; and already its magnificent harbour is crowded with the ships of england, america, and other nations, while its warehouses on shore are filled with the manufactures of those countries, brought here direct from the places where they are produced, to be distributed to the different chinese ports recently opened to the commerce of the world by the arms of great britain. hundreds, nay, thousands of chinese boatmen, fishermen, porters, bricklayers, carpenters, blacksmiths, shoemakers, tailors, bakers, shopkeepers, &c., are already earning their bread here. since the ratification of sir henry pottinger's treaty, and the confirmation of the cession of the island as part and parcel of the dominions of queen victoria, many wealthy chinese merchants have been making arrangements for the establishment of branch-houses here; and more than one of them had, previously to my departure last march, chartered british ships, and despatched them to the northern ports, loaded with british goods. as a _dépôt_ for goods intended for the chinese market, i conceive the situation of hong kong to be unrivalled, and, in this single point of view, of great importance. on the arrival of a ship from london, liverpool, or glasgow, with a general cargo of british goods, the consignees unload them, and send the ship home again with tea or such other produce as they may have ready for her, storing and holding the goods in readiness for any opening that may present itself: such portion of them as may be suited for markets in the immediate vicinity, are either sold on the spot, or sent to canton, while the rest is shipped off in fast-sailing vessels, kept for the purpose of making sure of their voyage against the monsoon, to amoy, chusan, and other ports to the northward. great complaints used to be made at canton and macao, because goods could not be landed, unless they were sold, or the consignees chose to advance the duty, and let the articles lie till an opportunity of disposing of them occurred: in other words, the want of a bonding system was universally felt and complained of. the establishment of hong kong completely obviates this inconvenience, and enables the ship from great britain or elsewhere to dispose of her cargo in a few days after her arrival, and proceed home again, thus saving time, expense, and trouble to an incalculable extent. a decisive proof of the eligibility of hong kong as a place of trade, and of its importance in the eyes of the chinese themselves, is afforded by the immense sums paid by some of them for ground on which to build _hongs_, where they can deposit their goods with safety, beyond the reach of their grasping mandarins. this advantage to a china-man is something so new, and so far beyond any thing he ever dreamed of enjoying, that i conceive the benefits likely to accrue from it to hong kong to be incalculable. goods stored in canton or macao, the property of a china-man, were never safe in the event of their owner getting into trouble with the chinese authorities; and, if the property of foreigners, they could not be insured against fire, the risk arising from the universal carelessness of the chinese, and the consequent very frequent occurrence of extensive conflagrations, being considered too great by the under-writers. both these difficulties are completely obviated in hong kong; and every substantially built house and warehouse, together with the property in them, were insured against fire, previously to my quitting the island. one china-man had, in march last, completed buildings for the storage of property collected from the different ports on the coast, on which upwards of , dollars had been laid out; and what is more, they were already well filled. as a convenient and safe _dépôt_ for opium, (a trade, in my opinion, quite as legitimate and honourable as that in brandy, gin, and other spirits,) hong kong is admirably situated: the purchaser from the western ports, as well as from the northeastern, finds the distance he has to travel moderate, and, on his arrival, has no one to dread, no mandarin daring to shew his face on shore. the ships that bring the drug from india, here find a safe and commodious harbour, where they can unload their cargoes in open day, without hinderance or molestation, and where they are not driven to the necessity of carrying on their operations in the dark. were the opium-trade actually one of mere smuggling, i would be as ready as any one to condemn it, and to raise my voice against those concerned in it; but when one considers that not a hundredth part of the quantity sold annually is really smuggled,--that ninety-nine chests out of every hundred pay a heavy duty, (mis-called a bribe,)--that the chinese government derives from it indirectly, but not the less certainly, a very considerable revenue,--and finally, that large quantities of it are known to be consumed within the walls of the imperial palace at pekin,--i confess i see no reason for the clamorous indignation with which this traffic has of late been assailed by european moralists. i have said, that the chinese government derives a considerable revenue from the opium trade; and i will prove it. a mandarin who pays for his situation, and is left to make the most of it by squeezing the inhabitants of his district, will give a great deal more for an appointment where an extensive opium-trade is carried on, than he would for any other. knowing the handsome sums paid by the dealers in the drug, to "make mandarin shut eye," he hesitates not for a moment about paying his imperial master in proportion for the situation which puts him in the way of reaping so rich a harvest. what is more; his said imperial master knows perfectly well what makes the situations in certain districts so much coveted, and enables the parties to pay so high for them. away, then, with all the mawkish cant about corrupting the morals and ruining the health of the chinese by selling them poison! the chinese are just as capable of taking care of themselves as their would-be guardians are; and as for their morals, many of them lead lives that might be copied with advantage to themselves and families, by thousands of gin-drinking englishmen. china is decidedly an over-populated country. opium-smoking checks the increase, and thereby does good; a view of the question not altogether unworthy of attention. checking the increase of population in this way is, at all events, better than adopting the plan of drowning female infants; not an uncommon one in china. the importance of hong kong in the event of another chinese war, (an event, in the opinion of many, not very improbable,) cannot, i conceive, for a moment be doubted. should our merchants again be expelled from the ports of china, they will here find a safe asylum for their persons and property, while their ships may ride in the harbour under the protection of two or three of her majesty's ships in perfect security, in defiance of all the marine of china. here also her majesty's government may have _dépôts_ of military stores, provisions, coals, &c., all stored in perfect safety, in place of being kept, as they were during the late war, in transports hired at an enormous expense for the purpose. now that passages along the coast of china are made, even by sailing vessels, at all seasons of the year, in defiance of monsoons, a steamer sent from the seat of war (wherever it might be) to hong kong, would be sufficient, at any time, to procure ample supplies of money, ammunition, and other stores for the army, from india, if need be, in a few weeks. every one at all acquainted with the inconvenience and expense suffered by the late expedition for want of proper and regular supplies, will appreciate the value of the island in this point of view. what was it that carried off so many of the cameronians and royal irish stationed in chusan during the first expedition to the north? not the climate of that beautiful island, certainly; for the troops that have since occupied it, have been remarkably healthy; and i saw four hundred of them land at hong kong, _en route_ to england, much against their will, looking as rosy and stout as if they had just come from home! what occasioned the mortality among the troops, was, the want of a _dépôt_ from which they could obtain supplies to replace the putrid, ill-cured calcutta beef and other unwholesome stores that were served out to convalescents, who died by hundreds for want of nourishing food to restore their exhausted frames. the diseases from which those unfortunate soldiers suffered, were originally contracted from improper food and bad accommodation; and all this took place on a chinese island overrun with cattle, pigs, and poultry, and with the town of ting hae, deserted by nine-tenths of its inhabitants, under their feet. the commander-in-chief's over-scrupulous conscience would neither allow the cattle to be purchased, nor the empty houses in the town to be occupied by the sick and dying. no better stores were to be had nearer than calcutta,--a six months' trip to and fro! so bad were the beef and pork, that i afterwards saw hundreds of casks of both sold by public auction at singapore, for three quarters of a dollar ( s. - / d.) per cask. the meat was used for manure, and the barrels were used for firewood. the possession of hong kong will prevent the possible recurrence of any thing of this kind. i am not prepared to say that chusan would not have been a better situation for a military _dépôt_ than hong kong. her majesty's government, however, thought proper to prohibit the permanent occupation of the former, while that of the latter was sanctioned, so that we have now no choice. for mercantile purposes, the absolute and permanent possession of both these islands would have been highly advantageous. chusan, i have never had the good fortune to visit, but have invariably heard it spoken of as a delightful place, in a high state of cultivation, possessing an extensive commerce, with fine harbours, and, lastly, with a numerous population already made acquainted with the difference between living under a free and enlightened government and under that of a despot. these people (if one can credit even half of what one hears from them) are, one and all, anxious that great britain should retain their island, and seem to dread the day, now fast approaching, when, according to the treaty, it must be evacuated by the british, consigning them again to the tender mercies of the celestial mandarins. several english merchants have erected warehouses on chusan, in the hope that it will ultimately be retained by great britain, or that the chinese authorities will not object to their remaining on the island subsequently to its restoration to their imperial master. i hope that their expectations may not prove fallacious. hong kong is a free port, and, in my opinion, ought never to be otherwise than free. let its harbour be a refuge for the shipping of all nations, and its stores will then be filled with their goods. i would not encumber the commerce of this island with one single dollar of charges: no port-charges ought for a moment to be thought of; and, as for import and export duties, the most moderate charges of this kind would ruin the place. what brought singapore forward so rapidly, was, the entire freedom of its trade. if hong kong is but treated in the same way, its progress will be, if possible, still more rapid than that of its sister settlement. a revenue more than sufficient to remunerate government for the annual expenses of hong kong, may be raised on the spot, without hampering its commerce, by taxing the retail opium-trade, the retail spirit-trade, carriages and horses, licensed gambling-houses, rents from public markets, ground-rent on building and other lots, and an assessment on rents, say of five per cent. the revenue derived from such sources in singapore, is cheerfully paid, and it more than pays the expenses of the place. that all the houses in which opium is smoked, spirits are drunk, and gambling is carried on, should be under a strict surveillance, is absolutely necessary. to check either the one or the other, is impossible; and, as they are legitimate objects for taxation, i see no reason why government should not derive benefit from them. the opium-smoker and the rum-drinker pay as much for the indulgence of their appetites, under existing circumstances, as they would do, were the privilege of supplying them farmed out to individuals, who would be responsible to the authorities for the good conduct of their establishments. i should advocate the suppression of gambling-houses _in toto_, did i not know the utter impossibility of effecting this among either a chinese or a malay population. as their existence, then, must be tolerated, and as they are, to my certain knowledge, the scene of robbery and murder, much more frequently than persons unacquainted with the criminal calendars in our asiatic courts of justice suppose, i say, let them be registered, taxed, and made subject to the visits of the police at any hour of the night or day. by the means i have pointed out, a revenue amply sufficient for the purposes of the hong kong government might be raised; and i should have no hesitation in undertaking to defray every fraction of its expenditure, had i the privilege of farming the opium-tax and the spirit-tax. of the climate of hong kong, i have little that is favourable to report. hitherto, it has been decidedly inimical to the european constitution; and hundreds of our countrymen are already buried there. last summer ( ), from the first of august till the end of october, a very malignant fever raged among all ranks, and carried off soldiers, sailors, government servants, mercantile men, and tradesmen. there were some peculiarities attendant upon this fever, however, which i shall mention, in the hope that my observations may lead future residents to be a little more careful of their health, than most of the present inhabitants have shewn themselves to be. in the first place, then, the fever, with few exceptions, was limited to particular localities. secondly, not one european female died of it, and only two suffered from it severely. thirdly, those who occupied spacious _upper-roomed_, well-aired houses, almost to a man escaped. fourthly, those who exposed themselves to the sun, suffered most. and, lastly, the new comer from europe was more subject to take this terrible fever, which the medical men characterize as a mixture of the yellow fever of the west and the bilious fever of the east indies. a stranger landing in hong kong, particularly if coming from many parts of india, and acquainted generally with tropical countries and climates, would naturally, on hearing of its insalubrious climate, express surprise, since he could see no exciting cause. i have stated, that the fever attached itself to particular localities. these were, the eastern and western extremes of the town of victoria. at the eastern end, to the eye the most delightful spot in or near the town, there are several patches of paddy-fields, situated in deep valleys between the hills, of limited extent, but which, under this climate, seem to generate malaria in quantities quite disproportionate to their size. in the morning, these valleys may be seen, from the middle of the town, completely filled with a dense fog, which rolls down from the neighbouring heights immediately after sun-set, settles upon them all night, and does not clear off till nine or ten o'clock in the morning. i know of no other reason why this neighbourhood should be unhealthy: that it proved so last summer, the number of its victims sufficiently testify. of six gentlemen who took up their quarters here, five died; and the other had a very severe attack of fever, from which he ultimately recovered.[ ] [footnote : since these remarks were penned, another summer has passed over hong kong. sickness and death have again prevailed there to an unusual extent, and the neighbourhood just mentioned had its victims; amongst others, two english ladies whose husbands i had cautioned, in march , respecting the spot they were taking their families to reside upon. the last mail from the east continues the outcry against the climate.] the land at the western extremity of the town is swampy, the grass, even on the declivities, being of a rank, spongy nature, and quite unfit for any thing. here the government built barracks, in which a detachment of her majesty's th regiment was for some time quartered: its ranks were decimated by fever, which latterly became so virulent, that the authorities chartered shipping in the harbour, to receive the men still alive. unfortunately, the poor fellows, being weakened from the effects of the summer, and having in all probability the seeds of disease in them before they embarked, died afloat in great numbers. it has been thought, that many lives might have been saved at west point barracks, had that building been raised off the ground so as to admit a free circulation of air _under_ the rooms. this, however, is but problematical, as the deaths at the other end of the town took place in two-storied houses. from what i observed at west point, there appears to be a constant drain of water down the hills, about six inches under the surface of the soil. this water settles under improperly ventilated houses, rots the beams, and _throws up a crop of mildew in every room_, as i can testify from actual observation. that no european female has fallen a victim to this fever, is certainly a remarkable feature in its history; but it must be borne in mind, that there were no ladies residing in the immediate neighbourhood of the two localities just mentioned. perhaps, the morrison education hill may be an exception, where two families passed last summer. none of the females suffered a day's illness, though a young man living in the house, who was occasionally exposed to the sun, caught the fever and died. i have no doubt, (and i have heard others express a similar opinion,) that regular habits and non-exposure to the sun, are the principal causes to which those europeans who have escaped illness when their friends and neighbours have sickened round them, owe their preservation. the occupants of spacious, two-storied, well-aired houses escaped, with only a single exception, in the case of a young man who probably brought on his illness by imprudent exposure to the sun for hours together, although he was repeatedly warned of the consequences. i know several instances of families passing last summer in houses of this description without any interruption of health. my own household was composed of two ladies, three children, myself, and a european female attendant: not one of us had an hour's illness during all the hot weather; yet we took no further care of ourselves than is customary with people who have resided for several years within the tropics. that exposure to the sun in that zone is uniformly prejudicial to the health of europeans, does not admit of a question; but, in china, the sun's rays seem to exert a more injurious effect than in most other places i have visited. the residents in hong kong, it is true, were somewhat careless in the matter. few, if any of them were provided with carriages or other conveyance to protect them from it when business called them abroad during the day; and it was quite common to see them moving about, on foot and on horseback, with no other precaution than an umbrella carried over the head, in spite of the daily examples of parties suffering from such imprudence. the number of european inhabitants in hong kong will this summer ( ) be trebled by the removal of most of the merchants from macao; and the general health of the place will be anxiously watched. should it prove as bad as last summer, (which god forbid,) it will drive many people away, and injure the settlement irreparably. the prejudicial effects of going into the sun might be avoided, almost entirely, even by men of business, were they to adopt the calcutta system of note-writing. there, a merchant seldom or never moves from his office; and when he does, it is in a covered vehicle. let the hong kong residents follow their example, and their numbers will not be thinned as they have hitherto been. that the european fresh from home, full-blooded, and in robust health, should be more liable to fever than his acclimated countrymen, is not to be wondered at; but many of the new comers might escape disease by common prudence. confident in their strength of constitution, and wearied with a long confinement on ship-board, they sally forth, day by day, to take a walk, just as they would in england, heedless of the fierce luminary that is pouring his rays on their exposed heads, and bent only on amusement or variety. a week of such folly (to call it by no stronger name) has sufficed to bring many a youth to a premature grave. the weather begins to grow warm in china (i speak of hong kong, macao, and canton) about the middle of april; in june, it is oppressively hot; and during the following three months, which are the most unhealthy, the thermometer in the shade ranges from ° to °. this is a degree of heat that ought not to be much felt by experienced indians; and in java, or in the straits of malacca, i should not complain of it; but there is a peculiarity, an oppressiveness, in the heat of china, that makes even respiration difficult, and excites such copious perspiration as to weaken the frame. in october, the weather becomes cooler, and, for the next five months, is sufficiently cold to render fires a comfort morning and evening; and occasionally during the whole day. were it not for their winter, i know not what would become of the european residents in china: this season braces them up for the coming summer, and, in short, saves their lives. the progress made in hong kong since its occupation as a british colony, is astonishing, and perhaps unsurpassed in the history of civilization. owing to the peculiar features of the locality in which victoria stands, that town has been extended along the beach, till it is now upward of four miles long, with three short streets extending a little way up the hills about its centre. the queen's road extends along the beach the whole of this length, and has been cut with great labour and expense. the lots between this road and low-water mark are considered as the best for mercantile purposes, and are nearly all in the possession of mercantile men, who have built, in most cases, handsome warehouses with dwelling-houses above. there are, however, some exceptions, a portion of the ground being occupied by chinese shopkeepers, who inhabit low ill-built houses, which, as ground with water-frontage becomes more valuable, will have to give way to better buildings, raised by a higher class, who will buy out the present occupants. the lots on the south side of queen's road are not so valuable as those opposite; nevertheless, they are nearly all in the possession of monied men, who will before long find it to their advantage to level the many wretched buildings that now disfigure the road, and to erect houses worthy of a town bearing the royal name. on my departure from the island, building was going forward in all directions, notwithstanding the somewhat illiberal terms on which alone lots were obtainable; and i have no doubt that, by this time, many smiling cottages adorn the hills in and near the town, while more stately buildings rear their prouder elevation on the level below. house-rent, as might be expected, is very high, and will probably continue so for ten years to come. it took that time to reduce the rents in singapore; and as i expect that hong kong will become a place of still greater trade, and attract a larger european population than the straits' settlement, i see no reason that the owner of property in houses there should not look for a handsome return for his outlay for ten years, and for a fair remunerating price at the expiration of that time. something like a hundred per cent. per annum has been got for the small houses occupied by chinese shopkeepers, while twenty-five, thirty, and even forty per cent. is a common return for substantially-built warehouses. some idea of the rapid progress which this settlement has made, may be formed by the reader, when i state, that one firm had laid out upwards of , l. sterling in building, and was still laying out more, when i quitted it. this is, certainly, by far the largest expenditure that has been made by any single establishment: but many others have spent from l. to , l. in a similar way; and the outlay by individuals on speculation, is by no means inconsiderable. the chinese population of victoria and the neighbourhood amounted, last january, to ten thousand souls; certainly not the choicest collection that could be wished, as the number of robberies that take place in and about the town sufficiently testify. this evil the magistrates were, however, doing their best to remedy; and some scores of idle vagabonds had been sent across the channel dividing the island from the main land of china. some of the chiefs of the robber-gangs had been apprehended and set to work on the roads, in irons; a proceeding that alarmed their confederates not a little.[ ] [footnote : an account of the capture of two of these scamps was given to me by the chief magistrate, the day before i left victoria, and was to the following effect:--a china-man in the pay of the police, though never seen by any magistrate, came to the police compradore's house one evening, and said: "if you will send two european constables to a certain spot (which he named) at nine o'clock to night, i will shew them where they will find two robber-chiefs smoking opium and looking over their gains." this hint was immediately communicated to the chief magistrate, who at once resolved to act upon it, and sent the constables to the spot indicated. there, the spy met them, masked, and made signs for them to be silent and follow him. he guided them down past west point upwards of a mile, when he turned up the hill by a footpath, which, in half an hour, brought the party to a small hut, through the crevices in the wall of which a light was visible. to the door of this hut, the guide significantly pointed, and instantly disappeared without uttering a word. the constables took the hint, and burst the door open, when they found what they had been led to expect; two men smoking opium, the room almost full of european clothing and other stolen property, quite sufficient to convict the smokers of unfair play towards the late owners of it. these men were of course secured; and the day i sailed from hong kong, i saw them at work on the roads in irons. their apprehension caused a complete cessation of robberies for the time being, the sight of the noted chiefs on the roads having terrified their followers.] the general appearance of hong kong, from the sea, is picturesque and curious. that part of the island on which the town is situated, is hilly, and, with the exception of the few paddy-fields already mentioned, presents no level space on which to build. the hills stretch completely down to the sea; and queen's road has been formed by cutting away their projecting spurs, throwing the earth into the sea in front, filling up the gaps on each side the spur, and thus forming a long strip of level. above the level of queen's road, many terraces have been cut in the hills, upon which private dwellings have been perched; and to a person sailing into the harbour, these look suspended on the hill side, and inaccessible. to speak the truth, the approaches to them are not the most practicable; particularly in rainy weather, when, from the clayey nature of the soil, they become extremely slippery. several water-courses descend from these hills, forming miniature ravines and a few water-falls, which have a pretty effect after a day's rain. they occasionally wash away an ill-built house; but this is the fault of the clumsy and foolish builders. many of these hills are covered with a hard, tough, useless sort of whinstone, which adds considerably to the expense of building on them. others are well stocked with granite, which the chinese masons split very neatly into any shape, by driving innumerable wedges into the blocks. the adroitness with which they do this, is quite surprising. the china pine (or fir) grows all over hong kong; but the young trees no sooner attain the height of two or three feet, than they are cut down by the natives, and carried off in bundles to clean the bottoms of the countless boats that ply about the harbour. thus, with one or two exceptions, these hills are quite bare, and, in winter more particularly, exhibit any thing but a lively spectacle. in summer, their green covering of coarse grass improves their appearance. the only thing that reconciles one to the site chosen for building the town of victoria, is its beautiful harbour: in every other respect, the choice was decidedly bad. a more awkward place on which to erect a town, could not have been fixed upon; and its northern aspect adds, i suspect, to the unhealthiness of the place, as it exposes the town to the cold winds of winter, and completely shuts out the southerly breezes of summer, which are so much wanted to refresh the worn-out colonist there are situations in the island much more eligible for a town, but their harbours are exposed, so that, when we consider how well the shipping are protected in victoria bay, we feel disposed to allow that a better choice could not have been made under all the circumstances. the market of hong kong is well supplied with fish, flesh, and fowl, vegetables, fruit, and game; and those who choose to take the trouble of seeing to it themselves, may obtain supplies on reasonable terms: those who leave these matters to their servants, are of course robbed, and are apt, without making any inquiry, to come to the conclusion, that every thing here is dear. the retail price of every sort of provisions is pasted up on the market-gate, once a week, by authority of the magistrates, in chinese and english characters; so that the exorbitant rates charged by _compradores_ may be easily detected and put a stop to. chinese boats of all descriptions, sizes, and sorts may be hired at every wharf, at any hour from daylight till eight at night: their moving about after that hour, is prohibited by the authorities, who had strong reason to suspect their being connected with the gangs of robbers that occasionally land from the opposite shore, commit some daring robbery, and disappear again before daylight. when the fleet of men of war and transports arrived here, from the north, in october , the troops, amounting to upwards of fifteen thousand, were regularly supplied, during their stay in the harbour of victoria, with fresh provisions, eggs, &c.; and no rise of prices took place. on the departure of the fleet, the daily supply was reduced by the chinese to just sufficient for the consumption of the place. no portion of the supplies for the market is produced on the island: the whole is brought from the innumerable creek and river-banks in the neighbourhood. it is to be hoped that this state of things will, before long, be altered, since, as matters now stand, the cow loon authorities could, at any time, deprive the inhabitants of hong kong of their daily bread. american, french, and english missionaries are already congregated in this infant settlement. the first have built a neat little chapel, where divine service is performed every sunday morning in the presbyterian form, and, in the evening, in chinese. the french roman catholics have built a stately and handsome chapel with a good dwelling-house attached to it: they have a large congregation among the irish soldiery and the portuguese from macao. the english missionaries had only just arrived with their establishment from malacca, and, when i left the island, had neither house nor chapel, but had commenced building. a chaplain of the church of england had arrived, appointed by the home government: no english church, however, had even been commenced, and the congregation meet every sunday in a neat house, where, if they escape fever during the summer, and colds and ague during the winter, they ought to deem themselves very fortunate. grog-shops and other resorts for the depraved and idle, are already plentiful in victoria. they are, however, all closed on sunday; and the sailor ashore, on liberty on that day, is fain to content himself with a walk along the road, during which he may be heard muttering deep curses on the heads of those who framed this (according to his notion) unjust and tyrannical regulation. before concluding my remarks on hong kong, i will add a few words on what i consider as the best means to be adopted with a view to render the settlement more healthy. much must be done by the government; and the rest may be left to the inhabitants themselves. in the first place, the paddy-fields at the east end of the town must be thoroughly drained, and the cultivation of paddy in the neighbourhood entirely stopped. proclamations on this last subject had been published in march last. that the draining of these lands would decrease the quantity of malaria generated in the valleys, there can be no doubt; but, that it would entirely do away with it, i deem very problematical. at all events, it would not stop the volumes of fog that descend from the hill-tops at sun-set, and completely envelop the valleys and the houses. draining, indeed, would do good, and ought to be tried at once. the owners of property in the neighbourhood were very sanguine as to the result of the experiment. more good, however, would be done in the way of purifying the air of these valleys, by entirely removing the small hill on which the morrison education buildings stand. the task, at first sight, may seem herculean; but is not so in reality. thousands of men are to be hired in the villages on the opposite coast, who would gladly work for three dollars ( s. d.) per month. were a couple of thousand of these put upon this job for a twelvemonth, there would not be much of the hill left. the pecuniary outlay would be considerable; but the returns would do much more than pay the interest on it. the base of the hill itself is of considerable extent; and the earth carried from its top, if thrown into the sea at its foot, would create a large level space for building, that would yield quit-rent enough to render the speculation (were the work undertaken by private individuals) a highly profitable one. this hill completely shuts up the largest of the paddy-growing valleys; and its removal would admit into it the easterly and northerly breezes, which might do more than any thing else towards preventing the descent of the fog. there are other hills, near the one alluded to, that might be levelled with great advantage to the neighbourhood, as well as to the parties who might undertake the task. in this case, there are individuals ready to execute the work on their own private account, who actually made offers to the government on the subject; but their terms were rejected by the authorities, and the hills remain in _statu quo_. the sea being very shallow at the base of these hills, the space filled up by cutting them down, would be very considerable, and the task by no means difficult. sir stamford raffles removed one at singapore, in size equal to the one known in hong kong as leighton's hill, without incurring a shilling of expense to his government. to the parties who removed the soil, he gave the ground they had made, charging them the same quit-rent that others paid on the grants made to them. at west point, draining seems to be the only plan that can be recommended to render the situation more salubrious. neither there nor any where else in the colony, is it safe to reside in houses having only a ground-floor. of those who have done so, few have escaped the fever; and still fewer of those who caught it, recovered. draining upon a large scale, is the part of the work i would leave to the government: upon the inhabitants, i would impose the task of making proper sewers all over the town. the few that existed there last summer, were not simply a disgrace to every person connected with the place, but tended in no small degree to thin the population by the abominable effluvia they threw out. in the immediate vicinity of every house or shop belonging to the chinese, might be seen a collection of impurities sufficient to create a pestilence anywhere, much more in a place with the thermometer frequently above ° in the shade. the assessment of five per cent. on all rents, would create a fund sufficient to purify the town, to keep it clean, to provide a regular scavengers' establishment, and, moreover, to pay night watchmen to protect the property of its inhabitants from the gangs of robbers that infest the place. were these suggestions carried out, if the citizens of victoria were but careful to avoid the sun, and if not a few would but reduce by one-half their allowance of brandy-and-water and cigars, i will venture to predict, that the medical men of the place would have a comparative sinecure. among other arrivals in hong kong during the year , were some fifty or sixty emigrants from sydney, (n. s. wales,) consisting of mechanics of different descriptions. they alleged, that the bad times in australia had driven them away. poor fellows! i fear they have made a sad mistake in the change they have sought. here, they will find times, for persons of their class, worse than those they have had to complain of, a climate to contend against, from which they have not the means of protecting themselves, and hundreds of chinese artisans, who can afford to work for less than half what they can live upon. most of them were badly housed; and it was to be feared, that the end of summer will see very many of their number in their graves. the colonists of new south wales appear to hare formed the most extravagant ideas of the benefit they are to derive from the new settlement of hong kong. with the exception of salt provisions, i know of nothing they can send to the new settlement with even a chance of profit; and the prices of these must be lower than those ruling in sydney by the last accounts, to yield a profit. some small lots of timber have been found to answer; but the demand for this article will cease, when the buildings now in progress in victoria shall have been completed. cattle, horses, and sheep have been tried, and the experiment has proved an utter failure. chapter xvii. china. first view of canton--description of the european quarter--hostile feelings of the people--commercial prospects of canton--amoy--foo chow--ningpo-- shang-hae--mr. medhurst--results of the treaty with china. the sail from hong kong to canton is very interesting, particularly to a stranger. the numerous islands he passes, and the entirely new scenes that everywhere attract his eye, cannot fail to delight and amuse him. here, the unwieldy chinese junk; there, the fast-sailing chinese passage-boat; now and then, the long snake-like opium-smuggler with his fifty oars; innumerable fishing-boats, all in pairs, with a drag-net extended from the one to the other; country boats of all descriptions passing to and fro, their crews all bent on money-getting, yet, never failing to cast a glance of mingled contempt and scorn at the "_fan qui_"; the duck-boats on the river banks, their numerous tenants feeding in the adjacent rice-fields; a succession of little chinese villages, with groupes of young celestials staring at him with never-ending wonder; here and there, a tall pagoda rearing its lofty head high above the surrounding scenery, as if conscious of its great antiquity and of the sacred objects for which it was built; the chinese husbandman with his one-handed plough, drawn by a single wild-looking buffalo; smiling cottages, surrounded with orange and other fruit-trees; the immense fleet of foreign ships anchored at whampoa;--these and a thousand other objects, all equally strange and new, attract the attention of the stranger as he sails up the "quang tung" river. on nearing the city itself, he is still more astonished and pleased with the sights that literally confuse his ideas, making the whole scene to seem the creation of magic, rather than sober reality. here, the river is absolutely crowded with junks and boats of all sorts and sizes, from the ferry-boat of six feet long, to the ferry-boat of a thousand tons burthen. long rows of houses, inhabited principally by boat-builders and others connected with maritime affairs, and built on the river, line its right bank. outside of these, are moored numerous flat-bottomed boats with high roofs: these come from the interior with tea and other produce, and resemble what i fancy noah's ark must have been, more than any thing i have seen elsewhere. on the left bank, the shore is lined with boats unloading and loading cargoes, while the different landing-places are completely blocked up with ferry-boats seeking employment. the space in the centre of the river, is continually crowded with boats, junks, &c. proceeding up and down. the scene altogether is bewildering to the stranger. busy as the scene is, which the thames presents at london, its superior regularity and order, in my opinion, prevent its coming up to the scene i have just faintly traced, in the strange and excited feelings it calls up. amidst all this, there is a constant clatter of tongues strongly recalling the confusion of babel. a china-man never talks below his breath; and, if one may judge from the loud tones in which the whole community express their sentiments, whether in a house or shop or in the street, the only conclusion that can be come to is, that, in china, the word secret is not understood, or rather, that the idea corresponding to that word has no existence in their conceptions. of the immense city itself, the home of a million of souls, what account can a traveller give, who has seen little more of it than the portion inhabited by foreigners? i must say a few words, however, about that part of it which i have seen. i begin with the foreign factories. these buildings stretch along the left bank of the river about three quarters of a mile, (or, rather, they did so, for one half of them have recently been destroyed by fire,) and extend back about two hundred yards. they are large, substantially built, and comfortable houses; but those situated behind the front row, must be (indeed i know they are) oppressively hot residences in the summer season. the space between the factories and the river, is reserved for a promenade, where foreigners may take a little recreation after their day's work. although but a limited space, it is invaluable. here, in the evening, may be seen englishmen, americans, frenchmen, spaniards, dutchmen, portuguese, parsees, moslem, and hindoos; all enjoying the evening breeze, and talking over the affairs of the day or the news brought by the last overland mail, while a crowd of chinese coolies surround the square, gaping with noisy wonder at the strangers attired in all the costumes of europe and asia. the streets principally resorted to by foreigners are, china street (old and new) and carpenter's square. in the former, a very choice collection of chinese articles may be purchased, either in the way of curiosities or of valuable merchandize. in carpenter's square, the new-comer may fit himself out with everlasting trunks, dressing-cases, &c.; or, if in search of furniture, he may here, in half an hour, furnish his house with well-made, substantial articles. the houses in these streets are all of two stories, with very narrow frontage, ground being valuable. a large quantity of timber is used in their construction, which renders any chance fire in this city so very destructive. the streets in canton are all very narrow, most of those i have seen not exceeding six or seven feet in width: the two china streets are probably twelve feet wide. the city does not cover half the space which a european one with the same population would do. its streets, from their want of breadth, always appear, and indeed always are crowded; and the unwary passenger is very liable to get knocked down by some heavily laden porter running against him, if he does not keep a sharp look-out. like macao, it is infested with loathsome beggars, who are, if possible, still more clamorous in their demands for charity than those of that place. here, the stranger will be surprised to see dogs, cats, and rats hawked about, dead and alive. i do not say that these animals form the daily food of the people of canton, but they are daily and hourly hawked about its streets, and purchased by the poorer classes. the canton market is, nevertheless, remarkably well supplied with the good things of this life; and the european who cannot live and be contented with the provisions procurable in it, must be hard to please. by nine o'clock at night, this huge city is perfectly quiet, and nine-tenths of its inhabitants are wrapped in sleep. at either end of each street is a gate, which is shut at that hour, and ingress or egress put a stop to for the night. this regulation, as may be supposed, is an excellent check upon night robbers, whose peregrinations can extend no further than the end of the street they live in. another equally salutary regulation is that which makes the inhabitants of a street responsible for each other's good conduct. thus, if a's servant steals any thing from b, a must make good the loss. prowling being put a stop to during the night, i have seen robberies attempted and detected during the day; and i certainly never saw a poor thief treated elsewhere with such unrelenting cruelty. a china-man seems to have no mercy for a thief; nor is this feeling to be wondered at in an over-peopled country, where all have to work for their bread, and where idlers are sure to starve. during the winter, in canton, the lower classes suffer severely from cold: they are poorly fed and worse clothed: and hundreds of them may be seen about the streets, shivering and looking the very picture of absolute wretchedness. amongst these, a few old women may be seen sitting by the side of the streets, earning a scanty subsistence by mending and patching the clothes of people as poor as themselves. these poor women, having all undergone the barbarous operation of cramping the feet during infancy, are consequently unable to undertake any thing but sedentary employment to gain their bread. the very small size to which the feet of some of the chinese females have been distorted by cramping them with bandages during the first six years of their lives, is almost beyond belief. i have seen a full-grown woman wearing shoes, and walking in them too, not more than - / inches long. their walk resembles that of a timid boy upon ice; it is necessarily slow; and, indeed, some of them require the aid of a staff in one hand, while they lean with the other on the shoulder of a female attendant. the smaller the eyes and feet of a chinese beauty, the more she is admired. i once asked a respectable china-man, what he thought of this custom of cramping their daughters' feet: his reply was, "very bad custom." on my inquiring further, whether he had any daughters, and whether their feet were treated in the same way, he answered in the affirmative, but asserted, that they had been subjected to the cruel ordeal by their mother, against his will. he added, that, in a china-man's house, where there were young girls, no peace could be had, night or day, for their cries, which lasted till they were six years old. he gave us a reason for the mother's insisting on her daughter's submitting to this long course of pain and suffering:--"suppose _he_ no small foot, no man wantjee make _he_ number one wife." a respectable china-man, it appears, always chooses a small-footed woman for his principal wife, while, for number two, three, and four, he contents himself with ladies whose feet are as nature made them, and who are consequently more able to make themselves useful in household matters. the inhabitants of canton and its vicinity have displayed, since the war, more hostile feelings towards englishmen, than those entertained by the natives of any of the northern ports. they still affect to believe, that sir hugh gough durst not attack their city; and it is, perhaps, to be regretted, that he was hindered from shewing his strength on that occasion. several riots and two extensive fires among the foreign factories, have taken place since that time; and it is the opinion of many persons, that, before long, canton will require a lesson such as amoy, ning-po, and other places have received. that the first of the two fires alluded to was the work of incendiaries, there is no doubt; and so well satisfied were the native authorities upon this point, that they made good the losses sustained by foreigners on the occasion. the proposal to grant land to foreigners in the neighbourhood of canton, for the site of country residences, met with so energetic opposition from the natives, that the authorities did not venture to carry the plan into execution. inflammatory placards were posted all over the city, calling upon the people to protect their ancient rights, and threatening extermination to foreigners, and to the local authorities themselves, in the event of their complying with the petition. it is probable, that the wealthy men and others connected with the commerce of canton, felt that the arrangements then pending between her majesty's government and that of their imperial master regarding the commerce of the two countries, would, if completed, affect their old privileges and monopoly; and that they adopted the measures above-mentioned in order to shew their displeasure. that their commerce will suffer in consequence of the arrangements since brought to an amicable conclusion, there can be no doubt; but it is not less certain, that canton will continue to be the centre of an extensive trade. its merchants must be content with a share of the loaf, in place of monopolizing, as heretofore, the whole. the days of hong merchants and monopoly are at an end; and the benefits derived from free-trade will shortly convince all but those connected with the late hongs, that the changes recently effected in the relations of the celestial empire with other countries, are not deserving of the abuse that has been so abundantly lavished on them. the far-famed bogue forts, i observed, in passing up the river last march, to be rebuilt in the same clumsy style as that of the fortifications which sir gordon bremmer knocked down. as a means of defending the river against any thing but chinese junks, they are utterly useless; and one cannot help feeling surprised that so intelligent a people as the chinese did not take a lesson from the perfect ease with which their forts were razed to the ground, and build their new ones on a better plan. the scenery at the bogue is very pretty; and the forts, if of no other advantage, form a picturesque feature, viewed while sailing past them. not having visited amoy, foo chow, ning-po, chusan, or shang-hae, i am unable to give any description of those places. i can, however, state what i have heard about them, and give the mercantile reader some idea of their importance as places of trade. short as is the time that these ports have been open to the commerce of britain and other foreign nations, many cargoes of indian cotton, different sorts of produce from singapore and the islands of the malayan archipelago, manufactured goods, consisting of woollens, gray and white shirtings, chintz, &c., from manchester and glasgow, have been advantageously disposed of at one or another of them. amoy has taken off several cargoes of bengal and bombay cotton, at prices considerably higher than those ruling at canton. this branch of trade is likely to increase, and is one that will interfere with canton to a considerable extent. as a residence, however, this place has a bad character in point of healthiness: at least, the troops, both european and indian, suffered severely there from fever. they were stationed on the island of koo loong soo, which is said to be more healthy than amoy itself. none of our merchants had visited foo chow, up to the time of my departure from china; nor had a consul been sent there; but this has, i presume, since taken place. the city has been described to me as large and populous, and the seat of a very extensive trade. it escaped the ravages of the late war; and its inhabitants may probably entertain a similar idea to that which possesses the people of canton; namely, that we were afraid to attack them. whether this notion will lead them to give europeans an indifferent reception, or not, remains to be seen. let us hope that they will act wisely in the matter, and not bring down vengeance on their own heads. sir william parker, by visiting their harbour in her majesty's ship cornwallis, proved to them that they are not beyond the reach of european shipping, as they at one time thought. some difficulty is experienced, i believe, in approaching foo chow, owing to the strength of the currents in the neighbourhood; but, as a seventy-four-gun ship has got over that difficulty, it is proved to be not an insurmountable one. ning-po is also a large and wealthy city, admirably situated for trade, and surrounded with a beautiful country. it stands some forty miles from the sea, by the river, which is said to be navigable for ships of considerable burthen even beyond the town. the climate is salubrious, and the natives are quite awake to the benefits likely to arise from a free intercourse with europeans. at this port, the first british vessel bound for the northern ports of china, from england direct, was loading, in march last, with tea and other chinese produce. by how many hundreds she will ere long be followed, i leave the reader to imagine. it is said by those who have visited this port, that nothing can exceed the urbanity of the chinese authorities and merchants, or their anxiety to do all in their power to please and entertain european strangers. this, doubtless, in part arises from the severe lesson that was read them, on more than one occasion, by sir hugh gough; a lesson which, it is hoped, they will long remember. an extensive and important trade is carried on between this place and chusan, by which means our manufactures will find their way into that island, after its ports shall be closed against our shipping. here, russian manufacturers are met with; and a friend of mine informed me, that, in a chinese shop at ning-po, he purchased a few yards of superior russian black broad cloth at the very cheap rate of two dollars and a-half ( s. d.) per yard. this price seems lower than that at which the british manufacturer could produce a similar article. samples of the cloth have been sent to england, so that this question will soon be decided. shang-hae, the most northern of the five ports opened to foreign commerce, is, perhaps, the most important of the whole five. i have undoubted authority for asserting, that the number of chinese junks, of more than a hundred tons burthen, that enter this port weekly, exceeds a thousand. the same authority speaks of the busy scene that this harbour daily presents, as quite beyond his powers of description. many british, american, and other merchants have visited shang-hae since it became an open port; many cargoes of manufactures have been disposed of there; and already a considerable export trade on foreign account has commenced. a bold attempt was made by some influential and wealthy merchants from canton, to prevent the mercantile men of the place from purchasing cargoes from the foreigners: in this, they succeeded for a time; and the canton men were in hopes they should secure the northern trade for their own capital, as of yore; but they calculated beyond their mark. the shang-hae men listened to the tales that were told them, and kept aloof for some time, till they saw that the europeans were quite determined not to leave their harbour without effecting sales. suddenly they changed their minds, and said to the canton men: "if the '_fan-quis_' are such a wicked race, how comes it that you are so anxious to have their trade to yourselves?" in a week afterwards, every foreign vessel in the river was cleared of her cargo at remunerating prices. shang-hae is the principal port in the empire for the export of raw silk. this fact is sufficient of itself to proclaim the vast importance of the place. the winter here, is described as being very severe; and the cold is said to be so intense, that hundreds of the very poorest sort of natives perish in the streets from its effect on their half-clad persons. the heat of summer is also intense; which renders the city unhealthy, situated as it is in a low, swampy country. yet, i heard of no sickness among the europeans who passed last summer there. the missionaries have not been behind the merchants in occupying shang-hae; and mr. medhurst, so well known for his extensive knowledge of chinese literature, had completed arrangements for removing his family thither in the early part of the present summer. he had previously visited the place, avowing the object of his visit, and had found no difficulty in procuring a commodious house, large enough for the comfortable accommodation of his family, as well as for a printing establishment, &c. mr. medhurst has been a personal friend of mine for these twenty years; and he will believe me when i say, that i heartily wish him all the success in his mission that he can wish for himself; but, of his success, i have my doubts. as to the benefits likely to accrue to the commerce of great britain from the treaty lately concluded by sir henry pottinger with the chinese government, i conceive there can be but one opinion, although the extent of those benefits is as yet uncertain. when i express an opinion, not penned in haste or without consideration, that the large quantities of grey shirtings, white ditto, chintz, cotton yarn, long ells, spanish stripes, fine woollens, camlets, &c. now purchased of the british merchants by the chinese, are likely, within the next three years, to be quadrupled, the manufacturers of my country will at once perceive what this celebrated treaty is likely to accomplish for them.[ ] we must, moreover, take into consideration, the extra tonnage that will be required to carry on this extended commerce; the number of seamen it will employ; the consequent increased demand for every description of stores taken to sea for the use of ships and men; the innumerable families that will thus be provided for; and the not improbable increased demand, over and above quadruple the present, for the goods named, when the new trade shall have had time thoroughly to develop itself. nor must we overlook the benefit likely to result to british india, the cotton of which has hitherto been supplied to the chinese _viâ_ canton: it will now be carried to their doors in british vessels, and sold to them at far cheaper rates than could have been afforded when sent in the former round-about way. taking this view of the case, it stands to reason, that the demand will increase; and though the merchant of bombay, madras, or calcutta may not make larger profits than heretofore, he will do a much larger business, employ double the number of men and ships, and enjoy the prospect of returning to his native country some few years sooner than he dreamed of under the old regime. [footnote : it must be borne in mind, that this was written at sea, before i had any knowledge of the reception which sir henry pottinger's treaty had met in manchester and other manufacturing towns. their subsequent reception of sir henry himself, proves how well satisfied they are with what he has done for them; and the extent of last summer's exports to china, demonstrates, beyond a doubt, that i was not far wrong in my predictions.] a trade suddenly thrown open with three hundred millions of human beings, is not likely to be completely developed in three, four, or five years; and i conceive that i am within the mark, when i hold out encouragement to my countrymen to quadruple their shipments to china. in april, may, and june, , before the five ports of china were officially opened to foreign trade, and when visiting them was precarious, an unusually large quantity of british and american manufactures was poured into the china market. ship after ship arrived from the manufacturing districts, with full cargoes; and the universal cry was, "what is to be done with all these goods?" i can tell the public what became of them. they were sold almost as fast as they arrived. many of them were purchased, for the northern ports, by speculators, who, to a man, did well with them. prices not only kept up, in spite of the heavy import duties, but actually continued to advance till the end of the year, when they were twenty per cent. higher than when all the cry was, "what is to become of these goods?" this spirited demand for goods at canton and hong kong, continued up to march last, when i sailed from china. whether the supply sent out this season, has exceeded the demand, or not, i have no means of ascertaining, while writing in the middle of the atlantic ocean; but i have no fear as to the result of any shipments that may have been made. that the thanks of the mercantile world in general, and of its members in great britain in particular, are due to sir henry pottinger for the very satisfactory conclusion to which he has brought the recent disturbances with china, and to sir hugh gough and sir william parker for the gallant manner in which the warlike portion of the work was conducted, every unprejudiced man must allow. though sir henry had not left china when i sailed, i presume that he will be in england before me _viâ_ egypt; and nothing would give me greater pleasure on my arrival, than to find that he had been rewarded by his sovereign by being made "earl nankin." his career has been a brilliant one; and that he may live many years to enjoy the fruits of his exertions, must be the wish of all that are likely to benefit by them.[ ] [footnote : no such honour has been paid to sir henry, though his reception by his sovereign, the government, and the public, has been such as must amply have gratified him and all his friends.] whether or not we are shortly to have another chinese war, is a problem i do not pretend to be able to solve: there are various opinions on the subject; but my own is, that every thing depends on the foreigners themselves. if the consuls and others sent by government to the five trading ports are firm and resolute men, who will never suffer the slightest infringement of the treaty by the chinese, without an energetic remonstrance,--if the captains of ships of war stationed at the five ports are strict in maintaining order among the masters and crews of the shipping of their nation,--if mercantile men take care, on the one hand, to give no cause of complaint by smuggling or otherwise, to the chinese authorities, and, on the other hand, to put up with nothing from them that is not borne out by the terms of the treaty;--in short, if foreigners generally (under which term i include every person not a chinese) unite together and stand up for the treaty, the whole treaty, and nothing but the treaty,--i see no reason to suppose that it may not work well, and for many years to come. on the other hand, if consuls vacillate in their intercourse with the chinese authorities,--if captains of ships of war permit irregularities in the conduct of merchant seamen,--and if foreign merchants condescend to injure their fair fame by smuggling, in place of submitting to the very moderate duties imposed upon their trade by the new chinese tariff,--all and each of them must take the consequences of their conduct; and they may rest assured, that the chinese will always be ready to seize with avidity the slightest opportunity afforded them for charging foreigners with a breach of the treaty. we must hope that foreigners resorting to china for the purposes of trade, or merely as travellers in search of health or of strange sights, will be sufficiently aware of the importance that is sure to be attached to their conduct, to avoid giving the chinese just cause of complaint. should they be careful on this point, and should the amicable relations now existing between the two countries remain uninterrupted, it will not take many years to convince the intelligent chinese, that intercourse with what they are pleased to term the barbarian nations of the earth, is not to be despised. as for the result of another war, there cannot, i imagine, be two opinions. that great britain would be the victor, and the _gainer_ too, after a struggle of half a summer, is pretty certain; and that she would make the chinese pay dearer for their temerity than they were made to do before, seems probable, and would be but just. the possession of chusan and other eligible mercantile positions on the coast, would open fresh fields for the enterprise of our merchants, and for the employment of hundreds of seamen and others; and the fleet and army, after satisfying the chinese that they were as able and as willing to fight as ever, might, with great advantage to their country, take a trip to japan, and try to prevail on the ruler of that _terra incognita_ to open his ports to foreign commerce. i would tell the emperor of japan, you shall either be my friend or my foe. if the former, you must permit your subjects to trade with my people; and if the latter, you must try your strength with me. while there are tens of thousands of unemployed operatives in great britain, her rulers should omit no opportunity of extending her commerce; and their suffering the japanese sullenly to exclude our shipping, while the dutch enjoy the sole privilege of trading to their country, seems to me putting up with a state of things that ought not to exist. chapter xviii. necessity of appointing british consuls in the spanish and dutch colonies--new settlement on the western coast of borneo--important discovery of coal on the north-west coast--concluding remarks. it appears to me, that british commerce in the east, requires somewhat more care and attention from the authorities in the mother country, than they have hitherto bestowed upon it. the trade carried on by british subjects with the philippines, siam, and the dutch colonies, is both extensive and important; but, not unfrequently, it suffers interruption from the government of those countries, to the serious loss and inconvenience of the parties concerned. that a consul or other properly authorised functionary is required to watch over the interests of british merchants trading to manilla, bang-kok, batavia, samarang, and sourabaya in java, and padang on the west coast of sumatra, is evident to every person at all acquainted with the trade of those places; and i will add a few facts by way of satisfying those who may be doubtful on the point. in the first place, then, british subjects residing in, or shipping resorting to manilla, are subject to the most arbitrary proceedings on the part of the spanish government,[ ] who order merchants from the place, and ships from the harbour, at a day's notice, without ever condescending to state their reasons for such proceedings. it was only the other day that the british subjects residing in manilla were, by an unlooked for and arbitrary order of the governor, deprived of the professional aid of the medical practitioners of their own country then resident among them. these professional men were not, indeed, ordered to quit the place; but they were informed by an official proclamation, that no medical man would in future be permitted to practice in manilla, unless in possession of a diploma from the college at cadiz. this, of course, was equivalent to an order to quit, as no english physician could be expected to have such a document in his possession. a friend of mine, writing to me on this occasion, represents the act as tantamount to a sentence of death upon all foreigners resident in the philippines. while spanish surgeons are allowed to practice among their countrymen in british colonies, such a state of things ought not for a moment to be suffered by the british government. [footnote : this remark has recently been confirmed beyond the possibility of denial, by the unjust and cruel sentence passed by the court of justice in manilla, on my esteemed friend, mr. robert diggles, who, after having been led into great expense, and kept under the surveillance of the police for nearly two years, has been tried as a criminal, and sentenced to pay a fine of two thousand dollars, and banished the philippines for six years. and for what, does the reader suppose? for kicking out of his house an impudent spanish tailor who had presented himself there during a ball given by mr. diggles to vice-admiral sir william parker and major-general lord saltoun, during their visit to manilla in her majesty's ship cornwallis. from lord saltoun, on his return to hong kong, i received an account of this matter; and mr. diggles also sent me the particulars in writing. from the testimony thus tendered to me by an eyewitness whose word cannot for a moment be doubted, and by the party principally concerned, in whose word i also place implicit confidence, i have no hesitation in making this public declaration, that mr. diggles has been partially, cruelly, unjustly, disgracefully, and tyrannically dealt with by the government of manilla. a letter i received yesterday from singapore, gives room to hope that mr. diggles's banishment has been remitted, which i should be glad to hear confirmed, though it would be no adequate reparation for the injury he has sustained.--hull, st november .] next, as to siam. it is well known to every person acquainted with the trade of that country, that its sovereign, in defiance of all treaties, monopolizes, by unjust and tyrannical means, nine-tenths of the commerce of his dominions; that his agents watch for and seize every boat that approaches the capital with produce; that the produce so seized is carried to the king's warehouses; that he pays whatever price he pleases for the contents of the boat; that the produce so seized is very generally the property of other persons, (frequently british subjects,) who have advanced money to the planter on his growing crop; that british and other shipping resorting to bang-kok for the purchase of produce, are compelled to buy from the king on his own terms, or to leave the port in ballast; and finally, that these proceedings are in direct opposition to the terms of an existing treaty between great britain and siam. a consul at bang-kok, and a visit twice a year from one of the ships of war cruizing in the china sea and the straits of malacca, would put an entire stop to his siamese majesty's unwarrantable proceedings, as far as british subjects are concerned. let americans and others look after themselves. ill the dutch colonies, also, i can testify from personal observation, the british merchant is very frequently dealt with not less arbitrarily. the dutch authorities are not content with prohibiting the importation into their colonies of warlike stores and opium, (which they have an undoubted right to do,) but their regulations render a ship seizable, that enters their ports with either of those forbidden articles on board. this seems unreasonably hard and it puts the british merchant to expense an trouble oftener than may be supposed. a ship bound from london, liverpool, or glasgow, to batavia and singapore, (a very common destination,) dares not receive on board as freight, either a chest of turkey opium, or a single birmingham musket. if she does, she must give up all idea of calling at batavia, where she would be immediately seized, for having such articles on board as cargo. only four years ago, the british barque acdazeer, bound from bombay to china, with a cargo consisting of thirteen hundred chests of opium, was dismasted in a gale in the china sea, and bore up for the port of sourabaya, which she entered in distress, for the purpose of repairs, and for stores to enable her to prosecute her voyage. my memory does not serve me so as to enable me to state, whether the acdazeer's visit to java was before or after the promulgation of the law prohibiting ships with opium and warlike stores entering any of the ports of netherlands india; but i think it was _before_ that regulation was made public. be that as it may, the ship was in distress; and, as a matter of course, her commander thought he was entering a friendly port. his astonishment may be conceived, when he was ordered by the authorities to land all his cargo in the bonded stores, before the slightest assistance could be rendered to his vessel. what was to be done? resistance was useless; and to prosecute his voyage with a disabled ship, impracticable. the cargo was accordingly landed, and the vessel's repairs were proceeded with. when these were finished, the commander reported his being ready to receive his cargo on board again, and to proceed on his voyage; when he was told, that, before doing so, he must pay an _entrepôt_ duty of one per cent. on the whole value. this he was compelled to do; and it amounted to the very considerable sum of l. all goods landed in bond (or _entrepôt_), in any of the ports of his netherlands majesty's east-indian territories, are subject to a duty of one per cent. on being re-exported; but who ever heard of a ship that had put into harbour in distress, being _compelled_ to land her cargo, under the pretence that it was to prevent the possibility of any portion of it being smuggled, and of its commander being afterwards told, that, as the goods had gone into _entrepôt_, the duty must be paid? these facts may be sufficient to shew, that the appointment of consuls at the different ports above named, is urgently needed as a protection to the british shipping visiting them. i have been told, that the spanish and dutch governments have refused to receive or acknowledge consuls in their eastern possessions. if this is the case, the evil might be remedied by a note from downing street. the other ports of netherlands india are, perhaps, not of sufficient importance, as regards english commerce, to authorise the expense of consular appointments. if the opinion of so humble an individual as myself could be supposed to reach the ears of the british premier, i would respectfully but earnestly call his attention to the foregoing remarks. another subject to which i am anxious to call the attention of the british government, is, the advantages presented by establishing settlements on the north-western and western coasts of the island of borneo. the proceedings of my friend mr. brook[ ] at sarawak on the western coast, having been made public, it is only necessary for me here to remark, that mr. brook has already paved the way for the advantageous settlement of a british colony in his neighbourhood, and to express a wish that her majesty's government may take advantage of his spirited and praiseworthy exertions, and reward him for them. the influence which he has obtained over the wild and intractable natives (as they have been hitherto deemed) of that part of borneo, the service which he has rendered to the mercantile interests of his country by his exertions in the suppression of piracy, the numbers of people whom he has induced literally to turn their swords into ploughshares, and the quiet, unostentatious way in which all this, and more than all this, has been effected, are not less surprising than creditable to his abilities, perseverance, and public spirit. [footnote : see appendix ii.] the recent discovery of extensive veins of coal on the banks of the river of borneo proper, is my chief reason for calling public attention to the north-western coast of that island. the destruction by fire of the british ship sultana, on her voyage from bombay to china, and the subsequent imprisonment of capt. page, his wife, officers, passengers, and crew, by the rajah of borneo proper, led to the discovery in question. the singapore government, on hearing of capt. page's captivity, sent a steamer to procure his release; and it was the captain of this steamer who discovered the coal, several tons of which he collected and used on board his vessel. he described them to me as being of excellent quality for steamers, and to be had in unlimited quantities by simply digging away the upper crust of the earth to the depth of six inches, under which the coals lie in masses. he was moreover informed, by the natives in the neighbourhood, (who, by-the-by, never use the coals, though they knew that they would burn, and called them "_batu api_" or fire-stones,) of the existence of much more extensive coal-veins a few miles further up the river. he had not time to visit the spot, but the natives assured him, that ships might be loaded from the surface. of the depth or extent of the veins, they knew nothing; it is, however, more than probable, that, on the application of proper means, an unlimited supply of coals might be obtained. the importance of such a supply, now that steam communication between calcutta and singapore has been established, and that the line will in all probability be shortly extended to china, requires no demonstration. in the event of a regular monthly overland mail being despatched from hong kong, to join the calcutta line at point de galle[ ] (ceylon), it would not be out of the steamer's way, to touch and coal at borneo: thence proceeding to singapore, where she would not require coals, she would take in the mail, and proceed on her voyage. this plan would save the expense of forming a coal _dépôt_ at singapore. all her majesty's steamers on the coast of china might be supplied with fuel from the same quarter, particularly as several empty ships go to china every season in search of freights homeward, which would gladly call at borneo _en route_, and take in a cargo of coals, to be delivered at hong kong, at a moderate rate per ton. to establish this coal trade on a permanent footing, a treaty would require to be entered into with the sultan of borneo. this, i have no hesitation in saying, might be effected, and the requisite arrangements made with the borneo authorities by mr. brook, whose influence in that quarter is deservedly all-powerful. an establishment placed there, the chief or superintendent of which might be invested with consular powers, would manage the coal business, and protect any unfortunate shipwrecked british seamen from ill treatment similar to that sustained by the captain and crew of the sultana. so many vessels have from time to time disappeared and never been heard of, between singapore and china, as to render it far from improbable, that there are numbers of british subjects now in confinement on the northern coasts of borneo and palawan. this probable or, at least, supposable case furnishes an additional argument in favour of placing some party, armed with power to protect such unfortunate persons, in some convenient spot in the neighbourhood. when i say, armed with power, i do not mean that arms should be put into the hands of those stationed to manage the coal-mines at borneo, but that their superintendent should be empowered to use energetic language, and threats if need be, in the name of the british government. the magic of a name is nowhere felt or understood more than among these same savages; in proof of which i may mention, that the rajah of borneo proper gave up capt. page and his crew immediately on their being demanded in the name of the governor of singapore, though he had refused to listen for a moment to the proposals and demands previously conveyed by a well-armed schooner sent by mr. brook from sarawak to treat for the release of the sultana's people, on hearing of their captivity. even his majesty of siam stands in awe of the british name; and i could tell instances of his having paid deference to a few lines from the singapore authorities. [footnote : ; now in full operation. vide appendix i. p. .] the ships of war in these seas are too much in harbour; they might be far better employed in occasional visits to the different ports of borneo, palawan, the eastern coast of the malayan peninsula, siam, and cochin china. visits to those countries twice or thrice a year, would not interfere in the slightest degree with their regular duty; it ought, indeed, to form part of it; and would be of incalculable value to british merchants. the authorities of those different states, knowing that the visits of british ships of war were to be regular and frequent in future, would be cautious how they meddled with british subjects. with all the gasconade common to orientals generally, the chiefs of the countries i have mentioned, are cowards at heart, tyrants as they are when opportunity offers; and they dread the sight of a ship of war in their harbours. no better check could be kept upon their conduct; and the plan proposed would not cost great britain a shilling, inasmuch as the ships required to carry it into execution, are in commission, and, as i said before, spend far too much time in port. such a catastrophe as the loss of the golconda, with four hundred souls on board, ought to be sufficient to call forth the utmost exertions on the part of our naval officers in the china sea. this ship, a vessel of tons, sailed from singapore in september (or ), bound to china, with the head-quarters of the th madras native infantry on board, and has never since been heard of. in my humble opinion, the china sea and its coasts ought to have been thoroughly searched for any remains of this unfortunate ship, it being far from impossible, that some of her people may be in existence in cochin china or on the neighbouring coasts or islands. when the unfortunate barque fifeshire disappeared in the same mysterious way, on the same voyage, three of her men turned up from cochin china, twelve months after she had been given up and paid for by the under-writers. no endeavour was made to trace the golconda,--wherefore, let those explain, who had it in their power to cause due search to be made. being unable to divine their reasons, i hope, for their own sakes, they were sufficient to quiet their own consciences. my wanderings are drawing near a close, and i have little more to say. on our passage down the china sea, during the prevailing very light southerly winds of april, we exhausted a large portion of our fresh stock; and for replenishing it and our water we touched in anjer roads, of which, and the village of the same name, i shall now give a brief sketch. nothing can be prettier than the sail into anjer roads from the northward, on a fine clear day. the scenery is equal to any thing i have ever seen. on your right, rises the high land of sumatra, covered with wood to the very summit, and exhibiting all the different shades of green; on your left, are st. nicholas point and the high land of java; while the two little isles called, "cap and button," add their minute features to the landscape. the land in this part of java, though well wooded, is not covered with timber so thickly as the opposite coast of sumatra; but, here and there, the scene is diversified by a clearing, where the javanese may be seen at work in his rice-field, yam-patch, vegetable garden, or pinery. in front, the island of "thwart-the-way" (well named, for it is right in mid-channel) relieves the eye from the glare of the sea; which, in these low latitudes, is a matter of some moment; while, further seaward, may be seen towering far above the surrounding objects, the islands of pulo bissie and crockatooa, both visible from a great distance, and forming excellent land-marks for the mariner. on nearing the anchorage, the pretty little village of anjer strikes the eye, its huts built in rows, and shaded by palms and other trees; the dutch resident's house, the fort, and the wharf, are all in view; and further back, about a mile from the sea, may be seen the tomb, erected by his shipmates, to the memory of dr. ----, assistant surgeon of h. m. s. alceste. the inscription informs the stranger, that dr. ---- died here on his return from china, after the wreck of the alceste. this tomb was the first thing that attracted my attention when i landed at anjer in , and has ever since been an object of interest to me. anjer is a very convenient place for ships bound from china or singapore for europe to touch at for supplies, although many ship-masters avoid it during the prevalence of the north-west monsoon, when it is a lee shore. i have anchored there at all seasons of the year, and never found any difficulty in getting out of the harbour; but others have been less fortunate, and have got among the rocks. here, the natives come off to passing ships, and bring fowls at two rupees per dozen; (a rupee here is equal to s. d. sterling;) ducks at three rupees per dozen; good-sized turtle one dollar each; yams one dollar per _pecul_ of lbs.; eggs one dollar per hundred; and other articles in proportion. they are very fond of visiting an english ship, as they generally get paid by her commander in spanish or other dollars; a coin held in universal estimation in those parts. in my frequent visits to anjer, i have invariably met with a polite and hospitable reception from the dutch resident, (the chief civil authority,) who has always been willing and ready to render any aid in his power to strangers. anjer, with all its beauties of scenery, is said to be unhealthy in the rainy season, when the showers and thunder-storms are both frequent and heavy: its natives are a puny race, and its european inhabitants look pale and sickly; so that, i suppose, it deserves the doubtful reputation generally given to it. during my last ramble in the vicinity of anjer, i observed some natives at work in a plantation of young plants which, at first sight, and from their being sheltered from the sun by tall, wild-cotton trees, i took for coffee. on inquiring of the overseer, and looking more closely at the plants, i found they were young cinnamon-trees. the attention of the dutch government has long been given to the cultivation of this spice; and, from the very healthy appearance of the plants just mentioned, i should think that the ultimate success of the undertaking was far from doubtful. it will not surprise me to see, before ten years have elapsed, java rivalling ceylon in cinnamon, as it is now competing with bengal in indigo. the strait of sunda, in which anjer is situated, is certainly a beautiful channel for ships to sail through in fine weather, though, from the strength of its currents, an uglier place in a dark, squally night could scarcely be found. it used to be notorious for malay pirates, but has been, of late years, clear of those pests. talking of pirates, i may mention my own good fortune in never having fallen in with any of the fraternity in the many voyages i have made in the lake-like seas of the malayan or eastern archipelago. this, however, does not tend to prove their non-existence in even recent days. having completed our stores at anjer, we sailed with a fair wind about p. m. on the th may, and, next morning, were rolling about in a heavy sea off java head, (a bold and grand promontory forming the south-west corner of the island,) where i bade adieu to my favourite sunny climes of the far east. appendix i. (see p. .) plan for the acceleration of the china mails (_i. e._ their conveyance from _suez_, viâ _ceylon_ to _hong kong direct_) submitted by mr. henry wise to her majesty's government sept. , , adopted june , , and now in active and successful operation. ---------------+--------------------+------+-----+----------------------+ proposed route | | |av. | interval | from hong kong | | |rate | (days/hours) | to london, and | course. |dist. |per | | vice versâ. | |miles.|hour,| und. | at | total | | | |miles|weigh.|anchor.| | ---------------+--------------------+------+-----+------+-------+-------+ | | | | | | | hong kong to | | | | | | | pulo labuan | s. ° . ' e. | | | /- | / | / | | | | | | | | pulo labuan | | | | | | | to singapore | s. ° . ' w. | | " | / | -/ | / | | | | | | | | singapore |{s. ° . ' w. }| | | | | | to malacca |{n. ° . ' w. }| | " | -/ | -/ | /- | | | | | | | | malacca | | | | | | | to penang | n. ° . ' w. | | " | / | -/ | /- | | | | | | | | penang to |{n. ° . ' w. }| | | | | | ceylon[a] |{s. ° . ' w. }| | " | / | / | / | +--------------------+------+-----+------+-------+-------+ ceylon | {as now performed by the peninsula & oriental} | | to aden | { steam navigation company, detention of } | /- | | { days included. } | | | | | aden | | | to suez | -- -- -- -- | /- | | | | suez to | | | alexandria | -- -- all stoppages -- | /- | | | | alexandria | | | to malta | -- -- -- -- | /- | | | | malta to | {h.m. post-office} | | marseilles | -- -- { packets } | / | | | | marseilles | {regular course} | | to london | -- -- { of post } | /- | | +-------+ {total interval from hong kong to london,} | | { and vice versâ, by the proposed route} days| /- | | | {average interval of transmission of china correspondence, } | | { viâ calcutta and bombay, during the last twenty overland} | /- | { mails, viz. from the th october , to th may } | | +-------+ difference of time in favour of proposed route days| /- | ----------------------------------------------------------------+-------+ ---------------+-----------------------------------------+ proposed route | | from hong kong | | to london, and | duties at anchor. | vice versâ. | | | | ---------------+-----------------------------------------+ | | hong kong to | | pulo labuan | to receive coal.[b] | | | pulo labuan | | to singapore | to receive coal, land & receive mails. | | | singapore | | to malacca | to land & receive mails. | | | malacca | | to penang | to receive coal, land & receive mails. | | | penang to | | ceylon | ditto ditto | ---------------+-----------------------------------------+ [note a: receiving at ceylon, the outward overland mail from england, and returning therewith to china.] [note b: the borneo coal mines would also serve to keep the hong-kong, singapore, and penang stations supplied with fuel for steam vessels carrying the mails between hong kong and suez direct. mem.--i have adopted an average rate of seven miles per hour as a fair estimate of the speed that well-appointed steam vessels, of moderate size and power, will be enabled to accomplish and maintain, throughout the proposed route, at all seasons of the year; for, during the whole distance from penang to aden, and _vice versâ_, neither monsoon, from the course steered, becomes at any period a directly adverse wind; an advantage which the route hitherto observed does not possess. assuming that the honourable east-india company continue the management of the bombay line, and that the peninsular and oriental steam navigation company are encouraged to render their operations more comprehensive, by the establishment of branch steamers between ceylon and singapore, to which latter port her majesty's steam vessels on the china station could convey the mails from hong kong, this all-important object might, without difficulty, be attained. the advantages to the straits' settlements, consequent on the adoption of improved arrangements, require no comment; and the _practicability_ of effecting a very considerable acceleration of the communication with china, is evident from the simple fact, that the average interval which has occurred in the transmission of letters from china, by the last twenty overland mails, (irrespective of the unfortunate july mail from bombay,) exceeds the period occasionally occupied by fast-sailing ships, in accomplishing the voyage _viâ_ the cape of good hope. henry wise. london, sept. , . p.s.--oct. , .--the arrival at suez, on the th ult., of the h. c. s. akbar, in _forty-six_ days from hong kong, after accomplishing the passage down the china seas, against the s.-w. monsoon,--unassisted also by any previously arranged facilities for coaling, exchange of steamers at aden, and other manifest advantages requisite for the proper execution of this important service,--confirms the correctness of my estimate for performing the voyage from hong kong to suez, or _vice versâ_, viz. _forty-three_ days, including stoppages.--h. w. appendix ii. memorandum on borneo, and mr. brook's settlement on that island. mr. brook has no warmer admirer than myself; and i trust the territory of sarawak, which has been ceded to him by the sultan of borneo, will eventually become a flourishing british colony. the government of this country cannot but be fully alive to the value of such a point on the north-west coast of borneo with reference to the protection and security of the vast trade carried on by british subjects to and from china; not to mention the great intrinsic advantages of an establishment on one of the largest and most valuable islands in the world. little or nothing is yet known of the interior of this vast country; but what we do know already with regard to several portions of its coast must lead us to the conclusion that it will one day become of infinite importance in a political as well as commercial point of view. there is reason to believe that it contains the most rich, varied, and extensive mineral deposits, and is capable of producing, in the greatest abundance, every variety of tropical production, including some that appear to be peculiar to its soil and climate. protection from the complicated evils of piracy and oppression is alone wanting in order to stimulate the growth and industry of the population, and to give a new aspect to the face of this fertile region. the very fact of a british settlement being established would exercise a most powerful influence in bringing together all the elements of a rapid civilization amongst a people at present the prey of ignorance, superstition, and oppression. considering the smallness of the means at his disposal mr. brook has already done much: the seeds have been sown, and, up to a point, nourished by the force of his character; for their further development the influence of the british government unreservedly exercised, but with due caution, is alone required. as one of the very best means of defence against riot or disturbance in a country like sarawak, whether held by queen victoria or by my friend brook, i would recommend the raising of a corps of hill rangers, to be composed of or natives of the country, in their native dress; distinguished from their countrymen simply by a belt thrown over the shoulder, with s. h. r.[ ] on a brass plate in the middle of it, and a small sword by their side; the whole under a european captain, four lieutenants, and a dozen native _jimedars_. ten guilders per month, allowed as pay to each man, would secure the choice of the population; and no force would equal them for the maintenance of peace in such a country. sir stamford raffles tried a similar plan at bencoolen, and found it answer admirably. i need say no more in its favour. no better man exists for raising and organizing such a corps, than mr. brook himself: witness his performances of a similar nature during the burmese war. these hill rangers must be divided into companies, and should be stationed at convenient places throughout the country, to keep their eyes on evil-doers, and to act as police-men more than as soldiers. their captain must be _locomotive_, and superintend the whole corps. [footnote : _i. e._ sarawak hill rangers.] i will now proceed to state my ideas as to the way in which mr. brook can most profitably avail himself of the extensive territory of sarawak. in the first place, he must have the whole district competently and correctly surveyed, and laid out in portions (not of square miles, new-south-wales fashion, without any regard to natural boundaries, but) of different sizes according to the topographical features of the country. on the completion of this survey, the plan or map should be lithographed, to exhibit to parties intending to purchase or hold land. mr. brook should then publish in india his intentions, giving a sketch of the facilities he can offer, of the capabilities of the country, &c. &c. &c. tenants will not suit him, in my opinion, so well as purchasers. the possession will be too unwieldy for him to hold, even as landlord: i speak from my experience in java. the purchasers he wants, are men of capital, say from l. to , l. each, to whom he must give credit for the land, and leave them unhampered to carry on their operations. all lands fit for the growth of coffee or sugar must be worked by these capitalists on their own account: they must send to java for experienced overseers, (europeans,) to conduct the works; and to bally, lombok, or the coromandel coast, for labourers. the natives of the former two are preferable, but, i fear, could not be obtained in sufficient numbers. not a china-man should be employed on an estate of mine as a field-labourer, though the chinese answer remarkably well, _under europeans_, in sugar-mills. an experienced overseer from java will point out to them the best lands for coffee and sugar, and the best modes of planting and rearing both. it is also a very good plan, to contract with a party to grow the cane, (the proprietor helping him with small advances,) which the landlord engages to take at so much per thousand when ripe, to be delivered at the mill door. the grower, in such cases, is generally a poor man, and require aid for the first year, to buy buffaloes, ploughs, and provisions. in java, nine-tenths of the cane are produced in this way; and the landlord saves both risk and trouble by it. no cane, no pay, is the rule there; so that, although the mill-owner may lose his time in a bad season, he sacrifices no outlay. the chinese cannot be trusted to _manufacture_ the sugar: they are conceited bunglers at that work, as stubborn as mules, and use too much lime, in spite of all one can say or do to prevent it. coffee may also be planted by contract; though, in java, where men can be got for three guilders per month and their rice, worth two guilders more, the plan is not generally adopted. a party purchasing land, ought to have it selected so as to have portions of it fit for coffee, sugar, and rice, and to try all three. in rice-cultivation, a different plan, however, must be pursued. in java, a proprietor of rice-land encourages as many people to sit down on his property as he can possibly obtain; charges them no rent in money, but helps them each to build a hut; lends them money to buy two buffaloes; and gives them rations of rice and salt for the first twelve months; taking care, in the meantime, that the man, his wife, and his children are as busy as bees, planting and looking after a few rice-fields,--the more the better; seeing also, that the family do a fair day's work, and as much as they are well able to perform. from these fields, when harvest arrives, the squatter will pay his rent. and then is the time that the european overseer and his deputies require to have their eyes open, in order to see that fair play is dealt to the proprietor, who is entitled to one-fourth of the crop, by way of rent, delivered in bundles of paddy, at his barn-door, by the grower. the reaping and binding must be watched, and the bundles be counted on the field; otherwise the grower will, probably, carry more than his share to his own barn, in place of his master's. now is the time, also, if the season has been a favourable one, to make the squatter pay off the whole, or a portion of his debt, for the advance made to him early in the year. if he gets well through the first year, he will, in all probability, take a liking to the place, and fix himself there for good. one of the very best plans for attaching javanese to their residence on an estate, is, to see that lots of cocoa-nut and betel-nut trees are planted in every desirable locality. with half a dozen cocoa-nut trees, even in a bad season, a native family will manage tolerably well; and in all my wanderings among the malayan islands, i never came to a place where even a single cocoa-nut was not current, like money, for its full value in rice. another great advantage arising to the proprietor from rice-grounds well-occupied, is, that he is entitled, by immemorial custom, to the labour of every male on the estate one day in seven, in virtue of a sort of feudal law. a friend of mine in java, on whose estate were fifteen thousand adults, seven thousand of whom were males, had thus the command of the labour of one thousand men per day _free_. on a new estate, these are the men to clear jungle, to make roads, to trim coffee-trees, and to take a turn with a hoe among the sugar-canes, when the hired labourers are busy at crop time, or when, from any other cause, labour may be scarce. mr. brook must take things leisurely. let one capitalist be established with a fair prospect, and he will soon be followed by dozens, who will gradually creep into the forests, and make the place a second java. before these capitalists make their appearance, however, he must, by every means in his power, encourage squatters, and get them to work on patches of rice-land, here and there. let him but treat those men kindly, help them through the first year, and set them fairly on their legs; they will then never leave the place. touching the diamond and gold mines which mr. brook wants to work, i hardly know what to advise, but think that his best plan would be, to get my friend tok sing, or some other wealthy china-man in singapore, to procure him "head men," whom he would _secure_, _i. e._ bind himself to make good any thing lost or stolen by them. this, of course, he would not do gratis; but his guarantee in such an undertaking would be invaluable: his wealth is very considerable, while his name and influence would be beyond calculation useful. over every thing, mr. brook must himself keep a watchful eye; and, above all things, he must keep the peace. he must not attempt too much at first; but must raise his rangers as they may be required; and, with his talent for such operations, a moderate share of patience and perseverance, and sufficient capital, all will go well, and he will meet with the complete success that he so richly merits. the end. william watts, printer, crown court, temple bar. transcriber's notes: inconsistencies in the hyphenation of words preserved. (daylight, day-light; namesake, name-sake; ninpo, ning-po; roundabout, round-about; shang hae, shang-hae; shipmaster/s, ship-master/s; underwriters, under-writers) units of sterling currency "l.", "s." and "d." were italicised in the original text, except for two instances (probably typographical errors) on page ( - / d. per pound) and page ( s. per ton). in the plaintext version of this transcription, italic markup has not been added to sterling currency units in order to reduce clutter and enhance readability. table of contents, chapter v., "dutch settements" changed to "dutch settlements". table of contents, chapter xvi., summary paragraph after chapter heading. in the table of contents, the third last phrase in the summary paragraph is "picturesque scenery" whereas in page this phrase is replaced by "portuguese penury". the original text is retained in both cases. table of contents, appendix i., page number changed from " " to " " to match page number at actual location. table of contents, appendix ii., page number changed from " " to " " to match page number at actual location. pg. , "havet heir" changed to "have their". (have their own rajahs) footnote , "trad" changed to "trade". (the opium trade again, has diminished) pg. , "testi-timony" changed to "testimony" (testimony to its commander's) pg. , inserted missing period. (balance due upon their services.) pg. , "occa-onally" changed to "occasionally" (occasionally visited by a very severe fever) pg. , inserted missing period. (called a grain-exporting one.) pg. , "hundreths" changed to "hundredths". (ninety-nine hundredths) pg. , added missing period. (the _lorcha_ was burned.) east of suez present-day egypt by frederic courtland penfield, former american diplomatic agent and consul-general to egypt. * * * * * _secretariat du khédive_ ras-el-teen palace, alexandria, th november, frederic c. penfield, esquire, manhattan club, new york. my dear sir: i am commanded by h. h. the khedive to acknowledge the receipt of the copy of your book "present-day egypt," which you have so kindly forwarded for his acceptance. i am to say that his highness has read it with much pleasure and interest, as it is the only book published on egypt of to-day by an author thoroughly acquainted with the subject through long residence and official position in the country. i have the honor to be, sir, your obedient servant, (signed) alfred b. brewster, private secretary to h. h. the khedive. * * * * * revised and enlarged edition. fully illustrated. uniform with "east of suez." vo. pages. $ . the century co., union square new york [illustration: gulf of manar pearling boat, and divers resting in the water] east of suez ceylon, india, china and japan by frederic courtland penfield author of "present-day egypt," etc. illustrated from drawings and photographs "east is east, and west is west, and never the twain shall meet, till earth and sky stand presently at god's great judgment seat." _kipling._ [illustration] new york the century co. copyright, , , by the century co. _published, february, _ the de vinne press to the memory of katharine introductory if books of travel were not written the stay-at-home millions would know little of the strange or interesting sights of this beautiful world of ours; and it surely is better to have a vicarious knowledge of what is beyond the vision than dwell in ignorance of the ways and places of men and women included in the universal human family. the great east is a fascinating theme to most readers, and every traveler, from marco polo to the tourist of the present time, taking the trouble to record what he saw, has placed every fireside reader under distinct obligation. so thorough was my mental acquaintance with india through years of sympathetic study of kipling that a leisurely survey of hind simply confirmed my impressions. other generous writers had as faithfully taught what china in reality was, and mortimer menpes, basil hall chamberlain, and miss scidmore had as conscientiously depicted to my understanding the ante-war japan. grateful am i, as well, to the legion of tireless writers attracted to the east by recent strife and conquest, who have made fuji more familiar to average readers than any mountain peak in the united states; who have made the biographies of favorite geishas known even in our hamlets and mining camps, and whose agreeable iteration of scenes on manila's lunetta compel our malaysian capital to be known as well as coney island and atlantic city--they have so graphically portrayed and described interesting features that of them nothing remains to be told. but to know eastern lands and peoples without an intermediary is keenly delightful and compensating. the travel impulse and longing for first-hand knowledge, native with most mortals, is yearly finding readier expression. our grandparents earned a renown more than local by crossing the atlantic to view england and the continent, while our fathers and mothers exploring distant russia and the nile were accorded marked consideration. the wandering habit is as progressive as catching, and what sufficed our ancestors satisfies only in minor degree the longing of the present generation for roving. hence the grand tour, the circuit of the earth, is becoming an ordinary achievement. and while hundreds of americans are compassing the earth this year, thousands will place the globe under tribute in seasons not remote. for many years to come india and ceylon will practically be what they are to-day, and sluggish china will require much rousing before her national characteristics differ from what they are now; but of japan it is different, for, having made up their minds to remodel the empire, the sons of nippon are not doing things by halves, and the old is being supplanted by the new with amazing rapidity. possibly it is a misfortune to find oneself incapable of preparing a volume of travel without inflicting a sermon upon kindly disposed persons, but a book of journeyings loaded with gentle preachment must at least be a novelty. travel books imparting no patriotic lesson may well be left to authors and readers of older and self-sufficient nations. a work appealing on common lines to a new world audience would be worse than banal, and a conscientious american writer is compelled to describe not alone what he saw, but in clarion notes tell of some things he failed of seeing for our country, emerging but now from the formative period, and destined to permanently lead the universe in material affairs, is entitled to be better known in the east by its manufactures. every piece of money expended in travel is but the concrete form of somebody's toil, or the equivalent of a marketed product: and consequently it is almost unnecessary to remind that industry and thrift must precede expenditure, or to assert that toil and travel bear inseparable relationship. what the american, zigzagging up and down and across that boundless region spoken of as east of suez, fails to see is the product of uncle sam's mills, workshops, mines and farms. from the moment he passes the suez canal to his arrival at hong kong or yokohama, the stars and stripes are discovered in no harbor nor upon any sea; and maybe he sees the emblem of the great republic not once in the transit of the pacific. and the products of our marvelous country are met but seldom, if at all, where the american wanders in the east. he is rewarded by finding that the light of asia is american petroleum, but that is about the only western commodity he is sure of encountering in months of travel. this state of things is grievously wrong, for it should be as easy for us to secure trade in the orient as for any european nation, and assuredly easier than for germany. we have had such years of material prosperity and progress as were never known in the history of any people, it is true; but every cycle of prosperity has been succeeded by lean years, and ever will be. when the inevitable over-production and lessened home consumption come, eastern markets, though supplied at moderate profit, will be invaluable. we are building the panama canal, whose corollary _must_ be a mercantile fleet of our own upon the seas, distributing the products of our soil and manufactories throughout the world, and secretary of state root has made it easy for a better understanding and augmented trade with the republics to the south of us. but america's real opportunity is in asia, where dwell more than half the people of the earth, for the possibilities of commerce with the rich east exceed those of south america tenfold. uncle sam merits a goodly share of the trade of both these divisions of the globe. the people of the united states must cut loose from the idea that has lost its logic in recent years, that the pacific ocean _separates_ america from the lands and islands of asia, and look upon it as a body of water _connecting_ us with the bountiful east. the old theory was good enough for our home-building fathers, but is blighting to a generation aspiring to americanize the globe. the genius of our nation should cause our ploughs and harrows to prepare the valley and delta of the nile for tillage; be responsible for the whir of more of our agricultural machinery in the fields of india; locate our lathes and planers and drilling machines in eastern shops, in substitution for those made in england or germany; be responsible for american locomotives drawing american cars in manchuria and korea over rails rolled in pittsburgh, and induce half the inhabitants of southern asia to dress in fabrics woven in the united states, millions of the people of cathay to tread the earth in shoes produced in new england, and all swayed to an appreciation of our flour as a substitute for rice--yes, make it easy to obtain pure canned foods everywhere in china and japan, even to hear the merry click of the typewriter in delhi, bangkok and pekin. do we not already lead in foreign trade? we do, i gratefully admit; but it is because we sell to less favored peoples our grains and fiber in a raw state. confessedly, these are self-sellers, for not a bushel of wheat or ounce of cotton is sold because of any enterprise on our part--the buyer must have them, and the initiative of the transaction is his. what economists regard as 'trade' in its most advantageous form, is the selling to foreigners of something combining the natural products and the handiwork of a nation--this is the trade that america should look for in the east, and seek it now. it is not wild prophecy that within five years a considerable number of the sovereign people of the country controlling its growth will feel that it is carrying international comity to the point of philanthropy to export cotton to england and japan to be there fabricated for the wear of every race of asia, and sold in successful competition with american textiles. in the pending battle for the world's markets uncle sam should win trade by every proper means, and not by methods most easily invoked; and let it ever be remembered that shortsightedness is plainly distinct from altruism. frederic c. penfield. authors club, new york city, january , . contents chapter page i the world's turnstile at suez ii colombo, ceylon's cosmopolitan sea-port iii the lure of the pearl iv upward to the shrine of buddha v in ceylon's hill country vi bombay and its parsee "jees" and "bhoys" vii the vicarious maharajah of jeypore. viii the world's most exquisite building ix benares, sacred city of the hindus x india's modern capital xi island links in britain's chain of empire xii canton, unique city of china xiii macao, the monte carlo of the far east xiv the kaiser's play for chinese trade xv japan's commercial future index list of illustrations page gulf of manar pearling boat, and divers resting in the water frontispiece from drawing by corwin k. linson. port said entrance to suez canal, showing de lesseps's statue from photograph by georgilada kip. italian warship steaming through canal cargo steamer in the canal at kilometer from photograph by georgilada kip. the jetty at colombo hindu silversmiths, colombo from photograph by skeen & co. a high priest of buddha from photograph by colombo apothecaries co., ltd. representation of buddha's tooth, colombo museum map of the gulf of manar, "the sea abounding in pearls" coolies carrying pearl oysters from the boats to the government "kottu" from drawing by corwin k. linson. the late rana of dholpur in his pearl regalia from photograph by johnston & hoffmann. indian pearl merchants ready for business, marichchikkaddi from drawing by corwin k. linson. the late maharajah of patiala in his pearl regalia from photograph by johnston & hoffmann. a lady of kandy from photograph by skeen & co. temple of the tooth, kandy from photograph by colombo apothecaries co., ltd. cremation of a buddhist priest from photograph by platé & co. trees in peradeniya garden, kandy from photographs by frederic c. penfield. tamil coolie setting out tea plants tamil girl plucking tea a kandyan chieftain parsee tower of silence, bombay a bombay railway station a bombay policeman his highness the maharajah of jeypore a matched pair of bullocks, jeypore street scene, jeypore, showing palace of the winds court dancers and musicians, jeypore the taj mahal, agra alabaster screen enclosing arjamand's tomb, taj mahal inlaid work in mausoleum op itimad-ud-daulah, agra scene on the ganges, benares benares burning ghat, with corpses being purified in the ganges benares holy' men a brahmin priest a calcutta nautch dancer general post-office, calcutta shipping on the hooghly, calcutta calcutta coolies hong kong harbor hong kong's mountainside a former "his excellency the governor" of hong kong temple of the five hundred genii, canton from photograph by a-chan. city of boats, canton, where generations are born and die examination booths, canton from photograph by a-chan. principal section of macao frontier gate between china proper and the portuguese colony monument and bust of camoens, macao in a fan-tan gambling house, macao typical business street in a chinese city from photograph by a-chan. exhibition of bodies of chinese malefactors who have been strangled simple punishment of a chinese mendicant chinese buddhist priests bronze daibutsu at kamakura, japan from photograph by frederic c. penfield. a garden view of the american embassy, tokyo from photograph by frederic c. penfield. japanese junk, or cargo boat east of suez chapter i the world's turnstile at suez when historical novels and "purpose" books dealing with great industries and commodities cease to sell, the vagrant atoms and shadings of history ending with the opening of the two world-important canals might be employed by writers seeking incidents as entrancing as romances and which are capable of being woven into narrative sufficiently interesting to compel a host of readers. the person fortunate enough to blaze the trail in this literary departure will have a superabundance of material at command, if he know where and how to seek it. the paramount fact-story of all utilitarian works of importance is unquestionably that surrounding the great portal connecting europe with asia. as romances are plants of slow growth in lands of the eastern hemisphere, compared with the new world, the fascinating tale of suez required two or three thousand years for its development, while that of panama had its beginning less than four hundred years ago. in both cases the possession of a canal site demanded by commerce brought loss of territory and prestige to the government actually owning it. the egyptians were shorn of the privilege of governing egypt through the reckless pledging of credit to raise funds for the completion of the waterway connecting port saïd and suez, and the south american republic of colombia saw a goodly slice of territory pass forever from her rule, with the panama site, when the republic on the isthmus came suddenly into being. vexatious and humiliating as the incidents must have been to the egyptians and the colombians, the world at large, broadly considering the situations, pretends to see no misfortune in the conversion of trifling areas to the control of abler administrators, comparing each action to the condemning of a piece of private property to the use of the universe. when the canal connecting the atlantic with the pacific shall be completed, no more waterways uniting oceans will be necessary or possible. but, did a weak people possess a site that might be utilized by the ebbing and flowing of the globe's shipping, when a canal had been made, they would obviously hesitate a long time before voluntarily parading its advantages. the uniting of the mediterranean and red seas was considered long before the birth of christ, and many wise men and potentates toyed with the project in the hoary ages. the persian king, necho, was dissuaded sixteen hundred years before the dawn of christianity from embarking in the enterprise, through the warning of his favorite oracle, who insisted that the completion of the work would bring a foreign invasion, resulting in the loss of canal and country as well. the great rameses was not the only ruler of the country of the nile who coquetted with the project. in the engineers of napoleon studied the scheme, but their error in estimating the red sea to be thirty feet below the mediterranean kept the corsican from undertaking the cutting of a canal. mehemet ali, whose energies for improving the welfare of his egyptian people were almost boundless, never yielded to the blandishment of engineers scheming to pierce the isthmus; he may have known of the prognostication of necho's oracle. greater than any royal actor in the suez enterprise, however, was ferdinand de lesseps, the frenchman whom history persists in calling an engineer. by training and occupation he was a diplomatist, probably knowing no more of engineering than of astronomy or therapeutics. possessing limitless ambition, he longed to be conspicuously in the public gaze, to be great. he excelled as a negotiator, and knew this; and it came easy to him to organize and direct. in his day the designation "captain of industry" had not been devised. in the project of canalizing the suez isthmus--perennial theme of cairo bazaar and coffee-house--he recognized his opportunity, and severed his connection with the french consulate-general in egypt to promote the alluring scheme, under a concession readily procured from viceroy saïd. this was in . egypt had no debt whatever when saïd pasha signed the document. but when the work was completed, in , the government of the ancient land of the pharaohs was fairly tottering under its avalanche of obligations to european creditors, for every wile of the plausible de lesseps had been employed to get money from simple saïd, and later from ismail pasha, who succeeded him in the khedivate. for fully a decade the raising of money for the project was the momentous work of the rulers of egypt; but more than half the cash borrowed at usurious rates stuck to the hands of the money brokers in europe, let it be known, while the obligation of saïd or ismail was in every instance for the full amount. incidentally, a condition of the concession was that egypt need subscribe nothing, and as a consideration for the concession it was solemnly stipulated that for ninety-nine years--the period for which the concession was given--fifteen per cent, of the gross takings of the enterprise would be paid to the egyptian treasury. [illustration: port said entrance to suez canal, showing de lessep's statue] learning the borrowing habit from his relations with plausible de lesseps, the magnificent ismail borrowed in such a wholesale manner, for the egyptian people and himself, that in time both were hopelessly in default to stony-hearted european creditors. egyptian bonds were then quoted in london at about half their face value, and britons held a major part of them. england had originally fought the canal project, opposing it in every way open to her power and influence at continental capitals. the belief in time dawning upon the judgment of britain that the canal would be finished and would succeed, her statesmen turned their energies to checkmating and minimizing the influence of de lesseps and his dupe ismail. the screws were consequently put on the sultan of turkey--whose vassal ismail was--resulting in that merry monarch of the nile being deposed and sent into exile, and the national cash-box at cairo was at the same time turned over to a commission of european administrators--and is yet in their keeping. but the miserable people of egypt, the burdened fellaheen, resented the interference of christian money-lenders, demanding more than their pound of flesh. the arabi rebellion resulted, when british regiments and warships were sent to quell the uprising and restore the authority of the khedive. that was nearly a quarter of a century ago; but since the revolution the soldiers and civil servants of england have remained in egypt, and to all intents and purposes the country has become a colony of england. the defaulted debts of the canal-building period were responsible for these happenings, be it said. verily, the fulfilment of necho's oracle came with terrible force, and generations of nile husbandmen must toil early and late to pay the interest on the public debt incurred through ismail's prodigality. this degraded man in his exile persistently maintained that he believed he was doing right when borrowing for the canal, for it was to elevate egypt to a position of honor and prominence in the list of nations. and it is the irony of fate, surely, that ismail's personal holding in the canal company was sacrificed to the british government for half its actual value, on the eve of his dethronement, and that every tittle of interest in the enterprise held by the egyptian government--including the right to fifteen per cent, of the receipts--was lost or abrogated. owning not a share of stock in the undertaking, and having no merchant shipping to be benefited, egypt derives no more advantage from the great suez canal than an imaginary kingdom existing in an anthony hope novel. the canal has prospered beyond the dreams of its author; but this means no more to the country through which it runs than the success of the canals of mars. de lesseps died in a madhouse and practically a pauper, while ismail spent his last years a prisoner in a gilded palace on the bosporus, and was permitted to return to his beloved country only after death. these are but some of the tragic side-lights of the great story of the suez canal. a few years since there was a movement in france to perpetuate de lesseps's name by officially calling the waterway the canal de lesseps. but england withheld its approval, while other interests having a right to be heard believed that the stigma of culpability over the panama swindles was fastened upon de lesseps too positively to merit the tribute desired by his relatives and friends. as a modified measure, however, the canal administration was willing to appropriate a modest sum to provide a statue of the once honored man to be placed at the mediterranean entrance of the canal. there stands to-day on the jetty at port saïd, consequently, a bronze effigy of the man for a few years known as "_le grand français_," visage directed toward constantinople (where once he had been potent in intrigue), the left hand holding a map of the canal, while the right is raised in graceful invitation to the maritime world to enter. this piece of sculpture is the only material evidence that such a person as ferdinand de lesseps ever lived. the legacy to his family was that of a man outliving his importance and fair name. the name port saïd commemorates the viceroy granting the concession, while ismail the splendid has his name affixed to the midway station on the canal, ismailia, where tourists scramble aboard the train bound for cairo and the nile. the actual terminus at the suez end is called port tewfik, after ismail's son and successor in the khedivate. this convenient mode of perpetuating the names of mighty actors in the suez drama suggests a certain sentimentality, but the present generation cares as little for the subject as for a moldy play-bill hanging in a dark corner of a club-house. as an engineering feat the construction of the canal was nothing remarkable. any youth knowing the principles of running lines and following the course of least resistance might have planned it. in cairo and alexandria it is flippantly said that de lesseps traced with his gold-headed walking-stick the course of the canal in the sand, while hundreds of thousands of unpaid natives scooped the soil out with their hands. the work was completed with dredges and labor-saving machinery, as a fact. the enterprise cost practically $ , , --a million dollars a mile; and half this was employed in greasing the wheels at constantinople and paris, probably the work could to-day be duplicated, by using machinery similar to that employed on the chicago drainage canal, for $ , , . the task would be a digging proposition, pure and simple. a cardinal article of faith of the legal status of the canal is its absolute internationality. by its constitution no government can employ it in war time to the exclusion or disadvantage of another nation. by a convention becoming operative in the canal is exempt from blockade, and vessels of all nations, whether armed or not, are forever to be allowed to pass through it in peace or time of war. [illustration: italian warship steaming through canal] critics of britain's paramount interest in india and her aspirations in the far east, nevertheless, pretend to see a decided advantage accruing from england's control of things egyptian. they claim that britain's position is immensely strengthened by the presence in cairo and alexandria, within a few hours' journey of the canal, of a half-dozen regiments of redcoats ready for any emergency. another proof of england's interest in the great universal artery of travel is the maintaining of guard-ships at either terminus, which incidentally keep watchful eyes on the coal-bins of suez and port saïd, a vessel unofficially sunk in an awkward position in the canal might delay for weeks the arrival of an unfriendly fleet in asiatic waters. the british government and british trade have fattened tremendously from the canal. being the short-cut to england's treasure-house in the east, it is more or less equitable that britain's flag flies over sixty per cent, of the canal traffic; and, fully as important, is the tremendous increase in value of the shares in the company held by the british government. it was in that disraeli secured to his countrymen the permanent control of the canal through the purchase from embarrassed ismail of that potentate's personal holding in the undertaking. this midnight negotiation, conducted over the cable, was disraeli's most material triumph as a statesman. for $ , , he purchased shares having now a market value of $ , , . a few hours after the consummation of this negotiation a group of french bankers, then in cairo, seeking to acquire the shares, were amazed to learn that they had been outwitted. a well-posted newspaper correspondent at the french capital had informed britain's ambassador of the purpose of the bankers' visit to egypt--and astute disraeli did the rest. this transferred from france to her rival across the channel the right to direct the policy of de lesseps's creation. but french susceptibilities have always been considered in matters connected with the conduct of the enterprise--it is still "la compagnie universelle du canal maritime de suez," the tariff is based on french currency, the principal office is in paris, and the official language of the company is french. the world knows the suez marine highway only in its utilitarian aspect, and america's interest therein is that attaching to it as an enterprise forerunning uncle sam's route at panama. before many years have passed the two canals will to some extent be rivals. the suez cutting is practically ninety-nine miles in length, and at present feet wide, with a depth accommodating craft drawing twenty-six feet and three inches. to handle modern battleships and the increasing size of cargo steamers, both depth and width are to be increased. having no sharp curvatures, and excavated at a level from sea to sea, ships proceed by night assisted by electric lights with the same facility as by day. the time consumed in transit is from fourteen to eighteen hours. not for a decade has a sailing vessel used the canal, and the widest craft ever traversing the canal was the dry-dock _dewey_, sent under tow by the government from the united states to the philippines. the tariff is now reduced to $ . per ton register, and $ for every passenger. a ship's crew pay nothing. the toll for a steamer of average size, like a peninsular and orient liner, is about $ , . i first passed the canal in a yacht of the new york yacht club, for which the tax was $ , and the last time i made the transit was in a german-lloyd mail steamer which paid $ , for tonnage and passengers. the canal's value to the commerce of the world is sufficiently proved by the saving of distance effected by it, as compared with the route around the cape of good hope. by the latter the distance between england and bombay is , miles, by the canal , miles, and from new york to the leading ports of india the cape route is about , miles, while by the canal the journey is shortened to , miles. how rapidly the traffic attracted by the economy in distance thus effected has developed, is best illustrated by the following statement, taken quinquennially from the company's returns: year steamers net tonnage receipts in francs , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , the suez company pays enormously, and more than half the current earnings go to the possessors of the several grades of bonds and shares. great britain is the preponderating user of the canal, with germany a poor second. holland, due to proprietorship of dutch india, is third in the list, and the nation of de lesseps is fourth. the united states stands near the foot of the roll of patrons, being only represented by an occasional warship, transport going to or coming from the philippines, or a touring yacht. it is a pathetic fact that our country, paramount producer of the world, has not been represented for nearly a decade by the stars and stripes over a commercial craft in the suez canal. cargoes go or come between american ports and those of the orient, of course, but they are borne in british bottoms or those having register in other foreign nations. fifteen or sixteen years ago england was represented in suez statistics by seventy-five per cent. of the total traffic; but her proportion has decreased until it is now under sixty per cent. kaiser william making a systematic fight for new markets in china and throughout australasia, the statistics of germany in canal traffic are slowly advancing. at present, with the suez enterprise in operation thirty-eight years, the average number of ships using the waterway is approximately ten each day. this is one vessel every two hours and thirty-five minutes during the twenty-four hours--meaning an eastbound craft every five hours and ten minutes, and a westbound every five hours and ten minutes. the idea of wedding the atlantic and the pacific must have been original with the first observant and intelligent person viewing the two oceans from the hills of the central-american isthmus. presumably he was a spanish adventurer, and the time practically four hundred years ago. a century before the landing on american soil of the pilgrim fathers, explorers were informing charles v of spain of the opportunity supplied by nature to connect the waters of the two oceans. in , one galvao, a portuguese navigator, wrote a book to prove the feasibility of an artificial connection between the atlantic and the pacific; and in a scientific commission from spain studied the three central-american routes--panama, san blas, and nicaragua. these are simple facts to be pondered over by busy people who may possibly be in doubt as to whether the "father" of the isthmian enterprise was de lesseps, theodore roosevelt, or admiral walker. but it required a knowledge of practical geography to learn that from colon to panama by sea is eight thousand miles, instead of forty-seven across country--and it took a dauntless american president to demand that his government construct a national water route across the isthmus at panama, and to point the way to that end; and this was done against potent opposition to any canal, and expressed preference of powerful statesmen for the unfeasible nicaraguan project. it may be profitable for enthusiasts jumping at the conclusion that the american canal will pay from its opening, to study the returns of the suez enterprise, the first full year of whose operation ( ) showed gross takings of only $ , , from tolls levied upon vessels. speaking generally, a shipper sends his cargo by way of suez only when , miles at least of ocean steaming may be saved--this is the approximate economy effected by the great turnstile between west and east, counting time, fuel, wages and other expenses. it may be accepted as a concrete fact that the employment of any canal by commerce must ever depend upon economic considerations. already acknowledging our commercial predominance, europeans are not blind to the real purpose of the panama canal. but it should be borne in mind that whenever it is an open choice between the canal toll and the equivalent of time at sea, the briton will be slow to decide in favor of contributing to the resources of a nation rising in brief time to commercial premiership; and frenchmen, economists by nature, will take a similar view, as will germans, and shippers of other nations. expressed in the fewest words, the employment of the panama route will be governed exclusively by self-interest, computed from the standpoint of material economy; sentimentality will bring not one ship to uncle sam as a patron--unless it be an american ship. suez will always be favored by european shipmasters determining routes for cargoes in which panama and suez present advantages practically equal; probably the expense of a few hundred miles additional travel would not cause them to break from the old route, by which there is no risk of accident or delay from canal-locks. a considerable percentage of the oversea carrying trade controlled by british bottoms is geographically independent of canals, and will always be. for example, the bulk of traffic to and from the west coast of south america--the rich nitrate trade of iquique and valparaiso--will not ordinarily be altered by the panama canal. the economy of distance from the latter port to england and the continent by the canal being only about , miles, this traffic, except under unusual circumstances, will continue as long as it goes in british vessels to round the extremity of south america. singapore will be the asiatic port differentiating the attracting power of the panama and suez canals, speaking from the basis of atlantic and gulf ports as points of origin or destination. cargoes for places west of the th degree of east longitude will logically be sent through the mediterranean and the suez canal. but the area east of the singapore degree of longitude is teeming with opportunity for panama cargoes. the isthmian short cut to oceanica and asia, comprising the coastal section of china's vast empire, enterprising japan, the east indies, australia, new zealand, and our own philippine archipelago, is the world's most potential area. the awakened orient can use american products to practically limitless extent. one third of the trade of these lands would make america great as a world-provider, and could be secured if we embarked seriously in an effort to obtain it. students of economics have never admitted the logic of america's sending cotton to england to be there converted into fabrics clothing half the people of the east. let the reader, content in belief that our manufactures have an extensive use in the outer world, because america heads the list of exporting nations, investigate the subject, and his reward will be to learn that _we export only a trifle more than six per cent. of what we manufacture_. let him also study the statistics of our commerce with south america, natural products and manufactures of every sort--they are replete with astonishing facts. to discover that our exports to the southern continent do not equal $ per capita of south america's population will surprise the investigator, doubtless; and that the volume of trade is overwhelmingly with england and germany will likewise be disconcerting. south america has , , people; but mexico's , , inhabitants buy nearly as much from uncle sam as the south americans. we now sell canadians products averaging $ per capita annually. the reason for the startling disparity in the statistics of trade intercourse with our adjoining neighbors, canada and mexico, and oversea south america, is obviously the lack of transportation facilities under the american flag; and the adage that "trade follows the flag" has earned more significance than attaches to a mere figure of speech. we pay south america yearly, let it be known, about $ , , for coffee, wool, hides and other raw products; and the major share of this money is expended in europe for the necessities and luxuries of life. this is inequitable, to say the least, and should be remedied. uncle sam must look to the orient, as well, and seek to make china his best customer. every nation in europe whose foreign trade is worth considering exploits foreign countries in the thorough manner of a great commercial house--getting business by the most productive, not the easiest, methods. in frequent magazine articles i have insisted that the isthmian canal, "destined to make the united states the trade arbiter of the world," could never be expected to "pay" directly. the artificial waterway is to cost a vast deal of money; with the payments to the french company and to the republic of panama, added to the sum necessary to the completion of the work. uncle sam's expenditure cannot be less than $ , , ! it will probably be more. a private incorporation embarked in the enterprise would hold that the investment was entitled to five per cent. interest, say, and in time be funded. the money of the nation, embarked in a project distinctly commercial, merits a reasonable rate of income or benefit--four per cent. certainly. to operate the canal with the expensive up-keep essential to a region of torrential rains, cannot be less than $ , , annually; if the chagres river refuses to be confined in bounds, the cost will be greater. the items of yearly expense figured here total $ , , --a sum to be regarded as the very minimum of the cost of maintaining and operating the canal. [illustration: cargo steamer in the canal at kilometer ] optimistic students of ocean transportation statistics say the canal will draw , , tons of shipping a year; others, conservative of opinion, say half this volume. taking the mean of these estimates, i hazard the statement that six years after the canal is opened, the tonnage will be , , . the suez canal was operated more than thirty years before its business aggregated , , tons; and to attract this volume, several reductions in tolls were necessary. the american government cannot properly levy a heavier tribute at panama than is demanded at suez, for the fact is, our canal will not be as essential as that uniting europe and the east. a like tariff would produce for uncle sam, on the hypothesis of a business of , , tons, only $ , , a year; a higher tariff would probably produce less. and here is an unpalatable truthlet--panama's earnings from passengers can never be considerable, compared with that constant ebbing and flowing of humanity between the home countries of europe and their dependencies in asia, africa and australasia. as a highway of travel, panama can never have a quarter of the income from passengers as that yearly accruing to the suez company. it may be unpopular to here record the opinion that the _direct_ increment of the american canal cannot for many years yield what in a commercial enterprise could be called a profit. the way to compel the canal to pay _indirectly_ is to make it incidental to the development of a mighty commercial marine, that will carry american products to present foreign markets, and to new markets, under the stars and stripes. this accomplished, the united states will indisputably be the trade arbiter of the universe. with operations under way on the isthmus, is not the time propitious for popular discussion throughout the nation, and in official washington, how best to _create_ the commerce that will make the panama canal a success from its opening? we have populated the country, developed resources of field, forest and mine, and devised matchless ways of translating natural products into finished articles appealing to all mankind. now, let us cease sending these products of soil and workshop to market in british ships; let us forward them in vessels constructed in american shipyards, thereby making the transaction independently american. already have we produced ocean carriers equal to the best; while american war-ships, native from keel to topmast truck, are the envy of the world. not for a decade has a commercial vessel under the american flag passed the suez canal, i have stated. but the time was when uncle sam's ensign was the emblem oftenest seen in foreign harbors. in but one department of natural growth is the united states backward--shipping, in its broad and commercial acceptance. to promote it should now be the plan of both political parties. our canal can never pay until we enter as ship-owners into competition with europe's trading nations, and these possess a material interest in the suez undertaking, be it remembered. the commercial fleet at present under the american flag could not pay a tenth of panama's operating expenses. when we seriously embark upon the work of creating a great merchant marine, we are going to rouse spirited opposition. englishmen, germans, and frenchmen will not like it; and europeans cannot be expected to take any interest in the welfare of our national canal, and all may object to fattening the treasury of a country that is their trade competitor. these facts, insignificant as they may seem, prove in reality the need for supplying hundreds of ocean carriers under the same flag as that flying over the canal zone. by the time the canal is opened, the united states will have , , inhabitants; and agriculture, assisted by ordinary methods and by irrigation, will have developed to an extent making our commodities dictators of supply and price. by that time, sea transportation cannot be regarded as a competitor of transcontinental railway systems that have done much toward making the country what it is: water transportation will be found a necessary adjunct to rail facilities, relieving the roads of a fraction of their through traffic. to restore the stars and stripes to the seas will require years of earnest effort, much debating in the halls of congress, a drastic liberalizing of marine laws, and much prodding of human energies by editorial writers. suez shareholders, when asked by americans if they fear any rivalry from panama, reply: "none at all; unless"--and here is the kernel of the matter--"your countrypeople find a way of creating a mercantile marine coincidently with the building of the canal." with unlimited financial resources to promote the most gigantic of modern enterprises, with inexhaustible raw and cultivated products, with labor to produce any conceivable commodity, the humiliating fact confronted the people of the united states a few months since of seeing its official delegates to the pan-american congress at rio de janeiro set forth in a steamship flying the red flag of great britain. the most remarkable accomplishment in the material history of the world is that the united states secured her commercial supremacy without possessing a merchant marine. it is one of the marvels of modern times, surely. chapter ii colombo, ceylon's cosmopolitan seaport a modern man of business might believe that bishop heber of calcutta wove into irresistible verse a tremendous advertisement for ceylon real estate, but repelled investors by a sweeping castigation of mankind, when he wrote: what though the spicy breezes blow soft o'er ceylon's isle; though every prospect pleases, and only man is vile. in tens of thousands of christian churches the praises of ceylon are thus sung every sunday, and will be as long as the inhabitants of america and great britain speak the english language. some of the divine's statements, to be acceptable as impartial testimony, require modification; for the natural charms of the island are not so sweepingly perfect, and there man is far above the asian average. hymnists, it may be inferred, write with some of the license of poets. no part of england's great realm, nevertheless, is more beautiful than the crown colony of ceylon in the indian ocean. [illustration: the jetty at colombo] an eastbound traveler during the long run from aden hears much of the incomparable island of palms, pearls, and elephants; and every waggish shipmate haunts smoke room and ladies' saloon waiting for the opportunity to point out the lighthouse on minecoy island in the maldives as "the light of asia." four hundred miles further and your good ship approaches colombo. the great breakwater, whose first stone was laid by albert edward, is penetrated at last, and the polyglot and universal harbor of call unfolds like a fan. there's music within; the breezes bring proof of this. surely, it is bishop heber's trite stanzas repeated in unison by the forgiving populace--they are sung everywhere, and why not in ceylon's great seaport? the ship churns forward to her moorings. it is singing; there is no mistaking it. but the air! does it deal with "spicy breezes," and "pleasing prospects?" no; it is a sort of chant. listen again. ah, it is lottie collins's masterpiece, not bishop heber's: it is "ta-ra-ra boom de-ay." and the chanters are dozens of britain's loyal subjects, youths naked and black, lying in wait to induce passengers to shower coins into the sea in recompense of a display of diving from catamarans constructed from trunks of palm-trees. if asked what place in all the world can in a day show the greatest medley of humanity, i should pronounce in favor of the landing-jetty at colombo. scurrying ashore from ocean steamers in launches, in jolly-boats pulled by oars fashioned like huge mustard-spoons, or in outrigger canoes that glide rapidly, are representatives of every nation of the west, of china, of japan--in fact, of every division of god's footstool having place in the list of nations. being the great port of call and coaling station linking occident, orient and australasia, a traveler naturally wants to inspect the place and stretch his legs on shore, while his ship is stocking with fuel to carry it to aden, singapore or to an antipodean port. tiffin or dinner on _terra firma_ is likewise coveted by the traveler with appetite jaded by weeks of sea-cooking. ceylon's capital teems consequently with people hungry for a _table d'hote_ meal, a 'rickshaw ride, and the indiscriminate purchase of rubbishing cats-eye and sapphire jewelry. the conglomeration of people on the promenade floor of the jetty, watching voyagers come and go, would tend to make a student of anthropology lose his mind. every variety of man of ceylon, practically of every creed and caste of india, even of all asia, is there, and a liberal admixture of europeans as well. leaning over the hand-rail all humanity appears equal--for sight-seeing purposes, certainly. there are gentle cingalese men with hair twisted into a knot on the back of the head and large shell comb on the crown, tamil coolies and hindus in profusion, of course. there are fat parsees from bombay, and buddhist priests and monks in yellow togas, each armed with palm-leaf fan and umbrella, precisely as gautama buddha left his father's mansion to sow the religion worshiped by nearly a third of the people of the earth. a group of lascars, on leave from a p. & o. liner, look depreciatingly on nautical brethren from colder climes. there are malays, as well, obsequious moormen merchants, and haughty afghans from beyond the "roof of the world," as scholars call the himalayas. here and there are broad-chested arabs from aden way and the persian gulf, taking chances on the announcement of a pearl "fishery" by the government--divers, who may secure a gem of price in an hour's work, or may return home empty-handed. their neighbors on the platform are seafarers coming with the embassy from the sultan of the maldive islands, bringing to the governor of ceylon the annual tribute sanctioned by custom, and the renewed assurances of loyalty to edward vii. close by them, and taking a profound interest in a group of european ladies stepping from a launch below, are three black girls in the garb of catholic sisters of charity, whose chains and crucifixes are of unusual size. with a conscious air of proprietorship of the british empire, khaki-clad tommy atkins comes down the pier, attended by the inevitable fox terrier. following close on his heels is a towering man of ebon complexion, with three stripes of ashes and the wafer of humility on his forehead. he is barefooted, and his solitary garment is a piece of cotton with which he has girded his loins; he is abundantly lacquered with cocoanut oil, to protect him from contracting a cold from the too rigorous "spicy breezes" of lanka's isle. a stranger would say he was a penitent wayfarer of god, not worth the smallest coin of the east. in one hand he carries an overfilled valise, and in the other a sunshade of immaculate white: the initiated recognize him to be a chettie, easily worth lakhs of rupees, who is presumably embarking for rangoon, and there to purchase a cargo of rice. hark! there is commotion and much noise at the jetty entrance. can it be an alarm of fire, or have the customs officials at the gates apprehended a flagrant smuggler? oh, no; it is merely great britain arriving on the scene in the person of a smart-looking tea-planter who has honked down in his motor-car to see a comrade off on the mail steamer; incidentally, some of the noise proceeds from a group of sailors on leave from a battleship who are wrangling with 'rickshaw men as to proper payment for having been hauled about the city on a sight-seeing tour. and so it goes in colombo. each day presents a picture not to be adequately described by a less gifted writer than kipling. [illustration: hindu silversmiths. colombo] colombo is the westermost town of that great division of asia wherein subject races--black, brown and yellow--haul the white man in jinrickshaws. no institution of the east stamps the superiority of the european more than this menial office of the native. probably every american when brought face to face with the matter says manfully that he will never descend to employing a fellow creature to run between shafts like an animal, that he (visitor from a land where rights of mankind are equal and constitutional) may be spared from footweariness under a tropic sun. it is a noble impulse--but weak man is easily tempted. hence, you decide to try the 'rickshaw just once. the sensation is found to be agreeable, surprisingly so. your fellow mortal, you perceive, is dripping with perspiration under the awful heat of the sun, while beneath the hood of the vehicle you are cool and comfortable. then you yield to the savage defects of your moral make-up--and decide never to walk another yard in the east, not when a 'rickshaw is to be had. the habit comes as easily as drinking, or anything that your conscience and bringing-up tell you is not quite right, although enjoyable. the 'rickshaw in colombo is a splendid convenience. the runner's rights are as loyally protected as those of his employer, and he readily covers six miles an hour at a swinging gait. if his vehicle has rubber tires and ball-bearings the labor is not severe. the man might have a harder vocation with smaller pay. colombo has hotels that would satisfy in europe or america--one, the grand oriental, is spoken of as the most comfortable hostelry between cairo and san francisco. to refer to it by its full name stamps the newcomer and novice at traveling--throughout half the world it is known familiarly as the "g. o. h." two miles from colombo, gloriously situated on the sea-front, the galle face hotel is fashionable, cool and quiet, but lacking in the characteristic of being an international casino--which assuredly the "g. o. h." is. tiffin or dinner is an interesting function at a colombo hotel, for one never knows who or what his table mates may be. in the east every man who travels is assumed to be somebody. hence you suspect your _vis-a-vis_ at dinner to be the governor of a colony somewhere in the immeasurable orient, or a new commander for saigon, or perhaps a frankfort banker going to china to conclude the terms of a new loan. if your neighbor at table is specially reserved, and gives his orders like one accustomed to being obeyed, you fancy him to be an accomplished diplomatist, very likely having in his pocket the draft of a treaty affecting half the people of the far east. no one seems ever to suspect his confrères of being mere business men. and the ladies--well, they may be duchesses or dressmakers no longer content with traveling "on the continong"; nobody cares which. if they are very well gowned, probably they are the latter. an army of waiters clad in spotless and snowy uniforms with red facings and shining buttons set before you dishes you never heard of. some are satisfying in the extreme; but these waiters, can they be described as in uniform? true, their garments are alike, but the head-gear is of infinite variety. according to caste or nationality each proclaims himself. but look once more; there _is_ uniformity, for all are barefooted. [illustration: a high priest of buddha] wonderful fellows these easterns. the native hotel band, led by a wandering european, plays sousa's marches and "hiawatha," yes, even "tammany," with accuracy; and the cooks prepare dishes with french names, make _vin blanc_ and _hollandaise_ sauces worthy of delmonico or ritz, and this without permitting the palate to guide them. if they tasted food concocted for christians a million kinds of perdition might be their punishment. music may be mechanical, as it is claimed to be, but not cooking. how do the gastronomic experts of pagan asia acquire their skill? considering that the ceylon capital is only four hundred miles north of the equator, the heat is never extremely oppressive. one's energies there, nevertheless, are not what they are farther north or at higher elevations. kandy, the ancient up-country capital, is cooler, and nuwara eliya, in the mountains, is actually cold at night. when white people do anything in colombo--work, attend church, play bridge, or billiards--a native keeps them moderately comfortable with swinging _punkahs_. some hotels and residential bungalows have discarded punkahs for mechanical fans; but the complaint is that the electricity costs more than the _punkah-wallah_--the fan-boy of the east. "ah, yes; but your wallah frequently falls asleep at his work," you remark to the resident. "true, and your electricity frequently fails us," is the reply. pear-shaped ceylon, separated from india by only fifty miles of water, is three fourths the size of ireland, and its population , , . seventy-five per cent. of the people are cingalese, and their language a dialect harking back to sanskrit. the cingalese are mostly buddhists, with a sprinkling of roman catholics, the latter religion having been left in the land by its one-time portuguese rulers. the tamils, numbering a million, are not native to the island, like the cingalese, but have come from southern india as laborers on coffee and tea estates; they are chiefly hindus, although thousands have been converted to the christian faith. the mohammedan moormen, living on the coast, approximate a quarter of a million in number. europeans of all nationalities, not including the british troops, total only , , a percentage of the island's human family to be computed in fractions. the cingalese seen chiefly in the towns wear their long hair arranged like a woman's, and around their heads a large, semicircular comb of shell, as has been said. the comb has nothing to do with religion or caste--contrary to what a visitor is usually told; it merely announces the wearer to be not of the coolie class, who carry sacks of rice and cases of merchandise on their heads. half the people of ceylon wear no head-gear, and not two per cent. know what it is to wear shoes. [illustration: representation of buddha's tooth, colombo museum] colombo's population is about , . the capital is a handsome city, with communities on seafront, on the shores of a sinuous lake, and ranging inland for miles through cinnamon gardens and groves of cocoanut-palms. queen's house, where the governor resides, is a rambling pile. the general post-office is the best building in the capital, and the museum and prince's club, close by, are entitled to notice. the hard red-soil roads of the city extend for miles into the palm forests, and are equal to any in the world. government officials and european commercial people live in handsome suburban bungalows smothered amid superb foliage trees and flowering shrubs and vines. what were called the maritime provinces of ceylon were ruled by the dutch until . but in that year england supplanted holland, and in she secured control of the entire island by overthrowing the kandyan kingdom, for a long time confining european invasion to the island's seaboard. ceylon costs britain little worry and practically no expenditure. strategically the island is valueless, save the benefit accruing to england in controlling if need be the enormous coal heaps of colombo, and the maintenance there of a graving dock capable of handling the biggest battleship. four hundred miles of government railways earn a tremendous profit, and moderate import and export duties on commodities keep the colonial cash-box well lined. as in other asiatic countries, the staple food is rice. strange to say, ceylon produces of this only half what is demanded by the people. hence, it is necessary to import eight million bushels from india and malay regions, costing approximately $ , , . on the other hand, the island sends to europe and america annually $ , , worth of tea, besides considerable quantities of rubber, cocoanut-oil, cacao, and plumbago. ceylon's crude rubber commands the highest price, and is a crop growing by leaps and bounds. it is estimated that eight hundred million cocoanuts are grown yearly in ceylon. an item in the list of exports is elephants. these go to india as beasts of burden and pleasure, and the government collects two hundred rupees for every elephant sent from the island. there is a possibility of two great events any springtime in ceylon, and the prospect of either occurring is a theme of endless small talk in the offices and bungalow homes of everybody connected with "government." one is the elephant kraal, planned for the edification of his excellency the governor and a few officials and visitors of distinction, who, from cages in trees at elevated points insuring safety, look down upon the driving in of converging herds of elephants. when an earth-strewn flooring of bamboo gives way and the monarchs of the jungle are cast into a stockaded pit, the kraal is complete. then, ordinarily, the ceylon treasury undergoes drafts for forage, until an authorized functionary negotiates the sale of the animals to maharajahs and lesser worthies up in india. a kraal occurs every four or five years, or when a british royalty happens in ceylon. each governor is entitled by custom to the semi-royal honor at least once during his incumbency. the kraal is an enterprise usually paying for itself, unless there be a glut in the elephant market. the last kraal failed dismally, nevertheless, but for a very different reason. the drive had been so successful that the stockade was full to overflowing with leviathan beasts trumpeting their displeasure and wrath. while the dicker for their sale in india was proceeding, they became boisterously unruly, and, breaking down their prison of palm-tree trunks, scampered away to forest and jungle, without so much as saying "thank you" for weeks of gorging on rations paid for out of the public cash-box. and this was the reason why the kraal arranged for last year was abandoned, after hundreds of natives had been busy for weeks in "driving in" from every up-country district--to jeopardize good money was deemed not in keeping with the principles of good finance by certain material britons responsible for the insular exchequer. the popular event, coming as often as twice every three years, is the pearl-fishery. it interests everybody not living in mountain fastnesses, and appeals irresistibly to the hearts of the proletariat. tricking elephants into captivity may be the sport of grandees, but the chance to gamble over the contents of the humble oyster of the eastern seas invites participation from the meekest plucker of tea-buds on ceylon's hill-slopes to the lowliest coolie in colombo. verily, the pearl-fishery is the sensational event of that land sung of by bishop heber. chapter iii the lure of the pearl the bed of the gulf of manar, the arm of the indian ocean that separates ceylon from india, has given the world more pearls than all other fisheries combined, for it has been prolific as a pearling-ground for thousands of years. pearling in the gulf was an occupation hoary with age before the dawn of christianity, for history tells us that mardis, admiral of alexander the great, when returning from a voyage having to do with the indian invasion, traversed the strait separating ceylon from the continent, and was informed of the importance of the pearl-banks over which his fleet was passing. the great sailor was specially interested in the manner of drilling the holes in pearls for stringing, which was probably the same that it is to-day. in the exuberant phraseology of the orient, ceylon is "the pearl-drop on india's brow," and the gulf of manar is "the sea abounding in pearls" and "the sea of gain." ceylon appeals irresistibly to any possessor of the wandering foot, for it is an island paradise. it is well governed, of course, for its administration is that of a seasoned colony of edward vii's realm, and the guidance of austere, dignified britain countenances nothing like gambling in any of its lands--oh, dear, no! state lotteries are pretty well relegated in these times to latin countries, everybody knows. yet the world's most gigantic gamble, pregnantly fruitful with chance in all variations and shadings, is unquestionably the ceylon pearl-fishery; compared with it, any state lottery pales to insignificance. from the taking of the first oyster to the draining of the last vatful of "matter," every step is attended by fickle fortune; and never is the interest of the people of portugal or of mexico keener over a drawing of a lottery, the tickets of which may have been sold at the very thresholds of the cathedrals, than is that of the natives of ceylon and southern india over the daily results of a manar fishery. each bivalve is a lottery ticket; it may contain a gem worthy of place in a monarch's crown, or be a seed pearl with a mercantile value of only a few rupees. perhaps one oyster in a hundred contains a pearl, and not more than one pearl in a hundred, be it known, has a value of importance. nature furnishes the sea, pearling-banks, oysters, and all therein contained; the ceylon administration conducts the undertaking, and for its trouble and trifling outlay exacts a "rake-off" of two thirds of all that may be won from the deep. and mere man, the brown or black diver, receives for his daring and enterprise one oyster in every three that he brings from the ocean's depths--and his earnings must be shared with boat-owner, sailors, attendants, and assistants almost without number. for size of "rake-off," there is no game of hazard in the world offering a parallel. the ceylon government used to exact three out of every four oysters brought in, the current tribute of two out of three having become operative only a few years since. it should be known that the pearl-bearing oyster of the indian ocean is only remotely related to the edible variety of america and europe. it is the _margaritifera vulgaris_, claimed to belong to the animal kingdom, and not to the fish family, and is never eaten. the eminent marine biologist in the service of the ceylon government, professor hornell, f. l. s., who intimately knows the habits of the pearl-oyster of the east, advances two interesting if not startling premises. one is that the pearl is produced as a consequence of the presence of dead bodies of a diminutive parasitical tapeworm which commonly affects the ceylon bivalve. the living tapeworm does not induce pearl formation. the popular belief has been that the pearl was formed by secretions of nacre deposited upon a grain of sand or other foreign particle drawn within the oyster through its contact with the sea's bottom. the other hornell assertion is that the oyster goeth and cometh at its pleasure; that it is mobile and competent to travel miles in a few weeks. [illustration: map of the gulf of manar, "the sea abounding in pearls"] scientists have long been aware that the pearl shell-fish possesses locomotive powers, which it uses when in quest of food or protection, and to escape impure localities. during the dutch occupation of ceylon, for example, there was a period of several years when the oysters' boycott of the manar banks was virtually unanimous. it is an accepted fact that pearls are excretions of superimposed concentric _laminæ_ of a peculiarly fine and dense substance, consisting in major part of carbonate of lime. linnæus, believing in the possibility of producing pearls by artifice, suggested the collecting of mussels, piercing holes in their shells to produce a wound, and bedding them for five or six years to give pearls time to grow. the swedish government succeeded in producing pearls of a sort by this process; but as they were of trifling value, the experiments were discontinued. cunning chinese and japanese have sought of late years to assist or improve on nature's pearl-making methods by inserting tiny shot or grains of sand between the mantle and the shell, which in time become coated with nacre. not long since there was a movement in japan to embark in pearl production upon a basis wholly commercial, and its promoters discussed it as they might a project for supplying a city with vegetables. one of the claims of those exploiting the venture was that they could keep pace with fashion's changes by supplying pearls of any shape, pear, oval, or spherical. this has been accomplished in other countries, and european and american dealers have had years of acquaintance with the "assisted" pearl, a showy and inexpensive counterfeit, but one attaining to no position in the realm of true gems. the distinction between fine pearls and these intrusive nacre-coated baubles, alluringly advertised as "synthetic pearls," has been demonstrated by more than one devotee of science. there are definite rules for determining when a ceylon fishery will be held, for twice a year the banks are systematically examined by the marine biologist, and estimates made of the number of oysters present on each bank. whenever their age and size appear to warrant the step, a sample catch of twenty thousand oysters is made by divers employed by the government, and a valuation is formed of the pearls they produce. if found to average ten or twelve rupees[ ] to a thousand oysters, the government is advised to proclaim a fishery. advertisements are then published throughout the east, especially in vernacular papers reaching the persian gulf and the two coasts of southern india, at the instance of the colonial secretary's office at colombo. these detail the valuation of the sample pearls, area of beds to be fished, and the estimated number of oysters likely to be available upon each. the advertisements are printed in cingalese, tamil, and english. as rapidly as information can spread, it becomes known from karachi to rangoon, and along the chain of seaports of the malay states, that a fishery is to be held. divers, gem-buyers, speculators, money-lenders, petty merchants, and persons of devious occupations, make speedy arrangements for attending. indian and ceylon coolies flock by the thousand to the coast of the northern province, longing to play even humble rôles in the great game of chance. the "tindals" and divers provide boats and all essential gear for the work afloat; while ashore the government supplies buildings and various forms of labor for dealing with the curious industry. [footnote : the rupee of india and ceylon is equal to cents u. s. a lakh is , .] it is during the calm period of the northeast monsoon,--february, march and april,--when the sea is flat and the sky is bright and unflecked, that the fishery is carried on. the line of banks--they are "paars," in the languages of ceylon--cover an extensive submarine plateau off the island's northwest coast, from ancient hippuros southward to negombo. this is of flat-surface rock, irregularly carpeted with coarse sand, and dotted with colonies of millions of oysters. dead coral and other products of the sea are scattered everywhere on this plateau, and it is a theory that these surface interruptions prevent overcrowding of the oysters, and consequently assist in the bivalve's reaching the pearl-producing stage. it is claimed that a crowded paar contributes to a stunting of growth, bringing disease and premature death to the oyster, and consequently no pearls of account. the estimate of the experts upon which it was decided to announce a fishery last year was that there were on the southwest cheval paar , , oysters which might be gathered, on the mideast cheval paar , , oysters, on the north and south moderagam , , , and on the south cheval , , . the announcement of this total of , , bivalves produced an electrical effect, and an unprecedented attendance, for it was equal to announcing a lottery with that many tickets, and who knows how few prizes! the student seeking to determine the eighth wonder of the world should not overlook the city of marichchikkaddi. stories of towns rising overnight wherever gold is found, or diamonds discovered, or oil struck, have become common to the point of triteness. tales of the uprising of klondike and south african cities, once amazing, fade to paltriness in the opinion of one who has seen the teeming city of marichchikkaddi. in a sense it is a capital, yet it is found in no geography; no railway connects it with the world, yet a dozen languages are spoken in its streets. marichchikkaddi's population numbers no young children, no persons too aged to toil, and the four or five hundred women sojourners merit the right of being present through serving as water-carriers to camp and fishing fleet. [illustration: coolies carrying pearl oysters from the boats to the "kottu," or government stockade] this place with double-mouthful name, almost defying pronunciation, is the pearl metropolis of the universe. probably there is not a stocked jewel-case that does not contain gems that have been filtered through this unique city by the sea. for a dozen reasons it is a wonderful town, and the foremost of these is that it is the only city of size that comes and goes like the tide's ebbing and flowing. when a fishery is proclaimed, marichchikkaddi is only a name--a sand-drifted waste lying between the jungle of the hinterland and the ocean. yet nine months before forty thousand people dwelt here under shelter of roofs, and here the struggle for gain had been prosecuted with an earnestness that would have borne golden fruit in any city in the western world. there, where lies the skeleton of a jackal half-buried in sand, an indian banker had his habitat and office only a few months before, with a lakh of rupees stacked in a conspicuous place as glittering earnest of his ability to pay well for anything remarkable in the way of a pearl. and beyond, where occurs the rift in the sand, stood the shanty in which venturesome divers whiled away time and money in trying to pitch rings upon the ends of walking-sticks, as do farmers' boys at new england county fairs. with the license permitting the calling of a pile of buildings formed of stucco a "white city," this metropolis might with propriety be named the "city of brown," or, better, the "cadjan city." for inaccessibility, it is in a class by itself. colombo is facetiously spoken of by englishmen as the clapham junction of the east, for the reason that one can there change to a steamer carrying him virtually to any place on the globe. but it is simpler for a white man to get to melbourne, or penang, or new york, from colombo, than to obtain passage to marichchikkaddi, only a hundred and fifteen miles up the coast. if he can wait long enough, passage may be found, of course; but otherwise all the official and editorial persuasion of colombo--and the subsidized influence of the head porter of the "g. o. h.," availeth nothing. now and then he may hear of a speculative parsee's dhow that may be going to manar for a cargo of shell-cased lottery tickets, or of a native-owned launch that will carry a limited number of passengers at an unlimited fare. a fast-sailing outrigger canoe may always be chartered. another opportunity is to travel two days by post-cart to a village one never heard of, transferring there to a bullock hackery that may take him through jungle roads to the cadjan metropolis--provided he is able to give instructions in tamil, or a college-bred coolie can be found who knows english. still another way is to take the semi-weekly steamer from colombo to tuticorin, in southern india, then zigzag about the continent of asia until he makes paumben. then it is a matter of only a few days when there will be a boat crossing to the pearl-camp. this is the surest way of getting to marichchikkaddi; but it is like making the journey from new york to boston by way of bermuda. ceylon's substitute for virtually everything elsewhere used in the construction of buildings is the cadjan: it is at once board, clapboard, shingle, and lath. cadjans are plaited from the leaf of the cocoanut- or date-palm, and are usually five or six feet long and about ten inches wide; the center rib of the leaf imparts reasonable rigidity and strength. half the shelters for man and beast throughout the island are formed of cadjans, costing nothing but the making, and giving protection from the sun and a fair amount of security from the elements. the frame of a house is made of stakes planted in the ground, with rafters and beams resting in crotches conveniently left by the wood-cutter. this slender frame is covered with cadjans, arranged systematically, and sewn together with cocoanut-leaf strands or tender rattans. not a nail is used, and cadjan flaps that may be raised or lowered from within the building take the place of glazed windows. a dwelling of this character, carpeted with palm-mats, and flanked with verandas, brings a flowing measure of comfort to the dweller in the tropics; but the gales of the annual southwest monsoon play havoc with cadjan roofs and walls. it being known that a fishery will bring together at least forty thousand souls, a small army of coolies hastens to marichchikkaddi a few weeks prior to the announced date for opening the fishery, to prepare the buildings necessary to house all and sundry, and to erect bungalows for the british functionaries having the enterprise in charge. public buildings almost pretentious in size and design rise from the earth in a few days, including a residence for the governor of ceylon, who is expected to grace the fishery by a visit; one for the government agent of the province in which the interesting industry is carried on; and another for the delegate of the colonial office. there rise, mushroom-like, as well, a court-house, treasury, hospital, prison, telegraph-office and post-office, and a fair example of that blessing of the east known as a rest-house, each reflecting surprising good taste, and being adequate to its purpose, and presumably completed at a cost well within the appropriation. jerry-builders and grafters have yet to be discovered in ceylon. marichchikkaddi parades structures dedicated neither to religion nor dissipation. but the bazaar-like alleys branching from the thoroughfares of the cadjan city purvey many things not obtrusively obvious to the british official. whatever his faith, the disciple of the pearl may solitarily prostrate himself beneath a convenient palm-tree, with face turned toward mecca, or on the sea-front indulge the devotions stamping him a hindu of merit. in an administrative sense the important building is the "kachcherie"--mayor's office and superintendent's headquarters in one; but the structure of material interest is the "kottu," wherein every sackful of oysters taken from the boats is counted and apportioned between the government and the divers. it is a parallelogram enclosure of two or three acres in area, fenced with bamboo palings, and roofed here and there to protect the coolies from the sun. for convenience, one end is as near the sea as prudence will admit; and the other, the official end, where accountants and armed guards are in command, is not far from the governmental offices. a system perfected by years of experience makes thieving within the kottu virtually impossible, and the clerks who record the count of oysters, and issue them upon official order, might safely conduct a bankers' clearinghouse. on occasions they handle without error more than three million oysters in a day. a quarter of a mile from the official section of the city is the great human warren and business region, where black men and brown--hindus, mohammedans, buddhists, and the east's flotsam of religions--dwell and traffic in peaceful communion. a broad thoroughfare, starting from the edge of the plateau overlooking the sea and extending inland until the settlement yields to the open country, is the "main street"; and here, for ten or twelve weeks, is one of asia's busiest marts. this part of marichchikkaddi is planned with careful regard for sanitary needs and hygiene. streets cross at right angles, and at every corner stands a lamp-post rudely made from jungle wood, from which suspends a lantern ingeniously fashioned from an american petroleum tin. sites on the principal streets are leased for the period of the fishery to persons proving their purposes to be legitimate. for a good corner lot perhaps twenty feet square the government receives as much as a thousand rupees; and a few hours after the lease is signed up goes a cadjan structure--and a day later pearls worth a king's ransom may there be dealt in with an absence of concern astounding to a visitor. can these easterners, squatting on mats like fakirs in open-front stalls, judge the merits of a pearl? yes, decidedly. in the twinkling of an eye one of them estimates the worth of a gem with a precision that would take a bond street dealer hours to determine. the indian or cingalese capitalist who goes with his cash to marichchikkaddi to buy pearls is not given to taking chances; usually he has learned by long experience every "point" that a pearl can possess, knows whether it be precisely spherical, has a good "skin," and a luster appealing to connoisseurs. a metal colander or simple scale enables him to know to the fraction of a grain the weight of a pearl, and experience and the trader's instinct tell him everything further that may possibly be known of a gem. it would be as profitless to assume to instruct an egyptian desert sheikh upon the merits of a horse as to try to contribute information to the pearl-dealer of the east. the calm period of the northeast monsoon is gentleness itself by the middle of february, and the gulf of manar is seldom more than rippled by its zephyrs. the fishery begins then. for weeks the divers have been arriving by craft of every conceivable type and rig. they are the aristocrats of the camp, and as they roam bazaars and streets or promenade the sea-front they are admired by coolies and peons as bull-fighters would be in spain. [illustration: the late rana of dholpur in his pearl regalia this indian prince is said to have owned pearls valued at seven and a half millions of dollars, the accumulation, perhaps, of his ancestors during several centuries] sturdy fellows they are, lithe of limb and broad of chest. each brings a tangle of pots and kettles, bags and bales, but wears nothing throughout the fishery save a loin-cloth and now and then a turban denoting nationality or caste. there were forty-five hundred of them in , and those from the madras presidency were the backbone of the enterprise. nearly half the divers were registered from kilakari, and hundreds came from the tip end of india. the men from tuticorin were of the parawa caste, and those hailing from paumben were moormen. the only ceylon city contributing divers was jaffna, whose men were of the fisher caste, said to be descendants of arabs who settled sixty years ago at jaffna. the divers coming the greatest distance were the negroes and arabs from aden and the persian gulf, most of whom landed at colombo from trading steamers, and made their way by small boat or bullock hackery to the cadjan city. these fellows have few equals as divers, but the administrative officers of the camp always fear that they will come into conflict with the police or launch a war in the name of mohammed against the hindus or cingalese. consequently, only a limited number are allowed to take part in the fishery. an amusing incident was furnished last season by the arrival of a diver of some renown in india, who had participated profitably in several fisheries. accompanied by his "manduck," the fellow had crossed from paumben as a deck passenger on a british india steamer. when the vessel was anchored, the diver summoned a rowboat to take himself and traps ashore. wearing nothing but loin-cloth and turban, the man descended the side-steps an example of physical perfection, and so thoroughly smeared with cocoanut butter that he shone like a stove-polish advertisement. the boat grounding on the shelving bottom a hundred feet from shore, this precious indian, who was to pass a good share of the ensuing ten weeks in the water, even at the bottom of the sea, deliberately seated himself astride the shoulders of his manduck, and was borne to dry land with the care of one whose religion might forbid contact with water. he carried beneath one arm throughout the trip from the small boat a gingham umbrella, and under the other an indian railway guide. there are neither wharves nor landing-stages at marichchikkaddi. even his excellency the governor must lay aside his dignity in going from his boat to the shore. the horde of people working about the pearling fleet, amphibious by nature, have little need for those accommodations and necessities which the commercial world call "landing facilities." the world over, gambling and speculation are joined in many ways to superstition; and the eastern diver is superstitious to the hour of his death. at marichchikkaddi he devotedly resorts to the mystic ceremony of the shark-charmer, whose exorcism for generations has been an indispensable preliminary to the opening of a fishery. the shark-charmer's power is believed to be hereditary. if one of them can be enlisted on a diver's boat, success is assured to all connected with the craft. the common form of fortune-tempting nowadays is for a diver to break a cocoanut on his sinking-weight just before embarking. if it be a clean and perfect break, success is assured; if irregular and jagged, only ordinary luck may be anticipated; and if the shell be broken in without separating into halves, it spells disaster, and the alarmed fisher probably refuses to go with the boat. last year's fleet was the largest ever participating in a ceylon fishery, three hundred and twenty boats being enrolled. the largest boats came from tuticorin, and carried thirty-four divers each. the smallest boat had a complement of seven divers. each diver was faithfully attended by a manduck, who ran his tackle and watched over his interests with jealous care both in and out of the water. besides the manducks, every boat had numerous sailors, food- and water-servers, and a riffraff of hangers-on. it was estimated that divers and manducks aggregated nine thousand souls. a system of apportionment gives every man in a boat an interest in the take, the divers generally retaining two thirds of the bivalves granted them by the government rule controlling the fishery. the kilakari divers observe a time-honored custom of giving to their home mosque the proceeds of one plunge each day. nature obligingly assists the workers on the banks by supplying a gentle off-shore breeze at daybreak, which sends the fleet to the fishing ground, six or eight miles from the shore. by two o'clock in the afternoon a gun from a government vessel directs the boats to set sail for the return. by this hour the breeze is accommodatingly from the sea, and the fleet runs home with flowing sheets. navigation, it will be seen, plays a very subordinate part in marichchikkaddi's marine enterprise. [illustration: indian pearl merchants ready for business] with the exception of the divers from the malabar coast, who plunge head foremost from a spring-board, the men go into the water in an upright position, and are hurried in their journey to the bottom by a stone weighing from forty to fifty pounds. each diver's attendant has charge of two ropes slung over a railing above the side of the boat: one suspends the diving-stone, and the other a wide-mouthed basket of network. the nude diver, already in the sea, places the basket on the stone and inserts one foot in a loop attached to the stone. he draws a long breath, closes his nostrils with the fingers of one hand, raises his body as high as possible above water, to give force to his descent, and, loosening the rope supporting the weight, is carried quickly to the bottom. an arab diver closes the nostrils with a tortoise-shell clip, and occasionally a diver is seen whose ears are stopped with oil-saturated cotton. the manduck hoists the weight from the bottom and adjusts it for the next descent. meanwhile, the diver, working face downward, is filling the basket with oysters with speed. when the basket is filled or breath exhausted, the diver signals, and is drawn up as rapidly as possible by the rope attached to the basket, and a specially agile diver facilitates the ascent by climbing hand over hand on the line when a man has been in the water half an hour, and made perhaps seven or eight descents, he clambers aboard the boat for a rest and a sunbath, and in a few minutes is taking part in the interminable chatter of the orient. a diver coming up with basket filled wears a face of benign contentment; but when the oysters are few and far between, as they are oftentimes, and the man has prolonged his stay below to the limit of his air supply, his head is out of water not many seconds before he is volubly denouncing the official control forcing him to work on a "paar" where little but sand exists, and his confrères on the boat hurl savage invective at any government functionary within earshot. the powerful eastern sun illumines the bottom sufficiently for a diver to plan his operations before going down, and nine days out of ten the overhead sun renders the sea sufficiently transparent to guide a boat's crew to promising anchorages. pearling economists insist that dredging by machinery or the use of diving-suits can never compete with the simple and inexpensive method in vogue on the manar banks. at marichchikkaddi one hears frequent discussion of the time a diver may stay under water, and many improbable accounts of what has been done are told a visitor. an average tamil or moorman stays down not longer than forty-five seconds, while the broad-chested arab thinks nothing of being under water from sixty to eighty seconds. depth has much to do with the time, and it is admitted that divers do not suffer unduly from the trying nature of their calling except when forced to work in unusually deep water. seven or eight fathoms--about the average on the ceylon banks--produces no injurious effect, but nine fathoms tell on all but men of sturdy build. occasionally a declivity perhaps ten fathoms below the surface has to be fished, and this demands the service of picked men, divers possessing the highest vitality. several divers collapse every season through toiling at unusual depths, and two or three pay the penalty of death. most divers, however, live to as full a span as men pursuing other humble callings. when a fishery is at its height, the scene on the banks is one of extreme animation, and a picture full of strangeness to new world eyes. each craft is a floating hive of competitive noise and activity, and the center of a cordon of disappearing and reappearing seal-like heads, with baskets splashing in the water or being hauled by excited hands. in the distance floats the majestic barque _rengasamy puravey_, an old-timer, with stately spars, a quarter-deck, and painted port-holes that might cause a landsman to believe her a war-ship. for half the year the barque is the home of the government's marine biologist, and his office and laboratory, wherein scientific investigation and experimentation are in constant progress, are in houses built on the quarter-deck. small steamers, having an official cut, move here and there among the fishing boats, doing patrol duty and carrying instructions when necessary from the _rengasamy puravey_. "would you like to go down in a diving-costume from a boat alongside the barque?" asks the biologist; "it's perfectly safe, and i have a dress that will fit you. frequently i go to the bottom to study the curious growths there, and last season the colonial secretary did the thing two or three times." with a readiness of speech rivaling gunfire in promptness i nipped in the bud the preparations for carrying out the proffered courtesy, explaining that i was glad to accept a vicarious description of things at the ocean's bottom. the dingy fleet blossoms into a cloud of canvas, with every boat headed for marichchikkaddi, the instant the "cease work" gun is fired. the scene suggests a regatta on a gigantic scale, and from a distance the leaning lug and lateen sails of the east give the idea of craft traveling at terrific speed. it is a regatta, a free-for-all, devil-take-the-hindmost affair. the prizes are choice berths on the beach as near as possible to the kottu, and the coolies who must carry the sacks of oysters see to it that the "tindal" and his sailors make no retarding error. the camp had been peaceful and somnolent while the boats were out; but the word that the fleet was coming in had roused every laborer, every petty dealer, speculator, and harpy to nervous activity. everybody goes to the sea-front to witness the beaching of the boats and to watch the unloading. an hour probably elapses between the coming of the leader of the fleet and the arrival of the slowest boat. during this period the important functionary is the beach-master, who shouts his commands to boats seeking to crowd into positions not rightly theirs. when a boat is securely drawn upon the strand, there is no waste of time in getting the cargo started for the government storehouse. muscular porters, glistening in their perspiring nudeness, go in single file between boat and kottu like ants executing a transportation feat. in a very few minutes the oysters are being counted by nimble-handed coolies. important gamblers in oysters, men with sharp eyes and speculative instincts, have only to note the number of sacks delivered from one or two boats--and secure a hint from an obliging diver as to whether the bivalves are "thin" or "thick"--to arrive at a safe hypothesis of what the day's take has been, and also whether the oysters promise to be fairly pearliferous. the opinions of two or three of these experts make a basis for starting the prices at the auction in the evening, and these "sharps" are seldom wrong in their estimate of what would be a safe offer for a thousand chances in the great lottery of asia. the count in the kottu is soon completed, and each boat's catch is divided into three piles, when an official selects two for the government, and the third is so expeditiously removed that a quarter of an hour later the share of the divers is being huckstered throughout the camp to small speculators. upon each craft throughout the day has been a native watchman of supposed honesty, in the government's employ, whose duty has been to see that no oysters were surreptitiously opened on the banks or during the run home. suspicion of the extraction of pearls on the part of any member of the crew leads to the police being informed, and an arrest follows. a favorite way of hiding pearls is to tie the gems in a rag attached to the anchor that is thrown overboard when the boat lands. another is to fasten a packet to a piece of rigging adroitly run to the masthead, there to remain until opportunity permits the dishonest schemer to remove it unobserved. on their way to their sleeping quarters it is interesting to observe divers stopping at boutiques and tea saloons for refreshments, paying their score with oysters, extremely acceptable to the shopkeeper itching to test his luck. in a small way, oysters pass current in the cadjan city as the equivalent of coins. probably the variations in value lead to fluctuations in exchange, but these are so keenly understood that the quotations are apparently adjusted automatically, like exchange between nations. the sale is held in the building where the camp magistrate all the afternoon has been dispensing justice in breaches of marichchikkaddi's morals--simple assaults, thieving, and other petty misdemeanors usual to police courts. punctually at sunset the auction begins. if the universe offers a stranger gathering for which commerce is responsible, it would be difficult to give it location. the gentle government agent sits on the platform, and in front of the rostrum is the splendidly appareled chief mudiliyar, to interpret between auctioneer and buyers. the bidders-to-be number half a hundred, and their eager faces are directed toward the august official of the government, each probably praying secretly to his god that undue competition be not inspired to the extent of excluding bargains. in the throng are chetties. moor merchants, and local hawkers, hoping to get a few thousand bivalves at a price assuring a profit when peddled through the coastwise villages. "do these men represent actual capital!" you ask the agent. "they do, indeed," is the reply, "and collectively they are backed by cash in hand and satisfactory credits in ceylon banks of at least a hundred lakhs of rupees." forced as you are to accept the statement, you inwardly confess that they don't look it, for $ , , is a goodly credit anywhere. in the fading light of day the agent announces that approximately two million oysters are to be sold, and he invites offers for them by the thousand--the highest bidder to take as many as he chooses, the quotation to be effective and apply to others until it is raised by some one fearing there will not be oysters enough to satisfy the demands of everybody. it is the principle of supply and demand reduced to simplicity. the competition to fix the price of the first lot consumes perhaps a minute. the initial bid was thirty rupees; this was elevated to thirty-two, and so on until thirty-six was the maximum that could be induced from the motley assemblage. with his pencil the agent taps the table, and the mudiliyar says something in hindustani meaning "sold." the buyer was an arab from bombay, operating for a syndicate of rich indians taking a flier in lottery tickets. in a manner almost, lordly he announces that he will take four hundred thousand oysters. then a sale of two thousand follows at an advanced price to a nondescript said to have come all the way from mecca; a towering sikh from the punjab secures twenty thousand at a reduced rate, and so on. in ten or twelve minutes the day's product is disposed of to greedy buyers for the sum of , good and lawful rupees. a clerk records names of buyers with expedition, glancing now and then at a document proving their credit, and in a few minutes issues the requisitions upon the kottu for the actual oysters that will be honored in the early morning. the primitive process by which the pearls are extracted from the oysters is tedious, offensive to the senses, and of a character much too disagreeable to be associated with the jewel symbolizing purity. a few million oysters are shipped to southern india, and some go to jaffna and colombo; but the preponderating bulk is dealt with in the private kottus in the outskirts of the camp belonging to the men who crowd the auction room. to open fresh from the sea and scrutinize every part of the oyster would be too slow a method to be applied to the business of pearl-getting. the native who obtains a few dozen seeks shelter under the first mustard-tree, and with dull-edged knife, dissects each bivalve with a thoroughness permitting nothing to escape his eye. the burning sun, bringing putrefaction and decay to the oyster, is the operator's agency for securing what pearls his purchase may contain. for a week or ten days the oysters are stacked in his private kottu, and the process of disintegration is facilitated by swarms of flies and millions of maggots. when the tropical sun can do no more, the contents of the shells--putrid, filthy, and overpoweringly odoriferous--are gathered in troughs and other receptacles to be put through a process of cleansing by washing with water frequently drawn away. the residue, carefully preserved, is picked over when dry by experts, working under the watchfulness of owner or his deputy--and in this manner the pearls of my lady's dainty necklace and the engagement ring are wrested from nature. [illustration: the late maharajah of patiala in his pearl regalia] sometimes an impatient speculator is seen with his coolies on the beach carefully washing vatfuls of "matter," perhaps employing a dugout canoe as a washing trough. wherever the work is done the stench is almost overpowering, and the odors defy neutralization. the wonder is that some dread disease of the orient does not make a clean sweep of the city's population. the medical officers claim that the malodorous fumes are not dangerous, and experience has taught these officials to locate the compounds, wherein millions of oysters are to decompose, in positions where the trade winds waft the smells seaward or inland, without greatly affecting the camp's health. the british official whose olfactory organ survives a season at the pearl camp deserves from his home government at least the honor of knighthood. interesting as marichchikkaddi is to the person making a study of the conduct of unusual industries and the government of eastern people, the medical officer looms important as the functionary shouldering a greater responsibility than any other officer of the camp. to draw forty thousand people from tropical lands, grouping them on a sand plain only a few hundred miles above the equator, is an undertaking pregnant with danger, when considered from the standpoint of hygiene. strange to say, marichchikkaddi's health is always satisfactory; but tons of disinfectants have to be used. malarial fever is ever present, but is of a mild type. the outdoor dispensary does a rushing business, but only seventy-five cases were sufficiently serious last season to be sent to hospital, and only ten of these were fatal. the divers are prone to pneumonia and pleurisy, and these diseases carried off five. the deaths out of hospital totaled twenty-two. in the hospital i saw a man with grizzled beard whose escape from death bordered upon the marvelous. his head had been jammed four days before between colliding boats, cracking his skull to the extent of letting the brain protrude. he was rushed to the hospital to die, but had no intention of passing to another world, the doctors learned. sitting upright on his cot-bed, the poor fellow said to me with an earnestness almost compelling tears: "help me to get out of this place, please. i want to be with my boat, for there is no better diver than i am, and i can earn a hundred rupees a day as easily as any man in marichchikkaddi." as an illustration of the white man's supremacy, in dealing with black and brown peoples, marichchikkaddi probably has no equal. here, in an isolated spot on the coast of ceylon, hours from anywhere by sea, and shut off from the large towns of the island by jungle and forest wherein elephants, leopards, and other wild animals roam, twelve or fifteen britishers rule, with an authority never challenged, more than forty thousand adventurous asiatics--men whose vocation is largely based on their daring, and whose competing religions and castes possess the germ of fanaticism that might be roused to bloodshed. the white man's control is supported by the presence of two hundred policemen, it is true, but these are natives. the keynote of this exposition of a multitude ruled by a handful of europeans is the absolute fairness of their control, of course. were justice non-existent, it would be inviting disaster for the white official to apprehend a wrong-doer, place him on trial, and personally administer with lash or birch the corporal punishment to be witnessed any morning in front of the camp lockup. and what might happen if the divers, through their ringleaders, objected to surrendering to the ceylon government the demanded "rake-off" of two thirds the oysters rescued from the sea by their efforts, in the event of these courageous fellows being assured that all the law in the world on the subject says that all the sea and all therein contained, beyond the distance of three nautical miles from shore, belongs to the universe! but the manar diver knows naught of the three-mile law, presumably. does the fishery pay? tremendously, so far as facts upon which to base an answer are obtainable. the government treasury is sometimes enormously expanded as a result of the enterprise. in , the most prosperous of all manar fisheries, the government sold its fifty million oysters for two and one half million rupees, and at least $ , of this was profit. years ago, it is true, there were several fisheries producing for the treasury nothing but deficits. nobody ever knows what reward visits the purchasers of oysters, for it is their habit to spread the report of non-success and disappointment. but the buyers and speculators come each year in larger numbers, with augmented credits, and they pay in competition with their kind a larger price for the oysters. the conclusion is, therefore, that they find the business profitable. even rumors of luck and profit would bring more speculators and rising prices at the auction sales, manifestly. reports of fortunate strikes at marichchikkaddi may more frequently be heard in india than in ceylon, let it be said; and it is the gilded grandees of hind--princes, maharajahs and rajahs--rather than the queens of western society, who become possessors of the trove of manar. no colombo merchant or magnate, or man or woman of the official set, is superior to tempting fortune by buying a few thousand oysters freshly landed from marichchikkaddi. and the interminable question of caste, banning many things to cingalese and tamil, inhibits not the right to gamble upon the contents of a sackful of bivalves. if the fishery be successful, all ceylon teems with stories of lucky finds, and habitations ranging from the roadside hut to the aristocratic bungalow in the cinnamon gardens are pointed to as having been gained by a productive deal in oysters. a favorite tale is that of the poor horse-tender, who, buying a few cents' worth of oysters, found the record pearl of the year; another is of the 'rickshawman suspected of having money in the bank as a result of a lucky find on the seafront of colombo of three or four oysters dropped from a discharging boat--in a shaded alley between buildings he forced the bivalves to disgorge a pearl worth hundreds of pounds sterling. most stories of this character are as untrue as the reports of soubrettes and telephone boys winning fortunes in wall street. did i try my luck? of course i did. who could resist the temptation? i purchased two great sackfuls of oysters, a thousand in number, which were brought off to the government tug _active_ by salaaming peons from the government agent's office. at five o'clock the tug was ready to start colomboward the instant the "despatches" i was to deliver came on board. at last the precious package, with a parade of red tape and impressive wax seals, was handed over the side. it may have contained something as priceless as a last year's directory; i never knew. it was my deep-seated suspicion, however, that the packet was somebody's excuse for letting the public treasury expend a few hundred rupees in carrying one in private life back to colombo to catch his steamer for china the next evening. confident was i that the bags on the stern grating that had been freshly soused with seawater as the _active_ steamed away from marichchikkaddi contained a wealth of pearls. in the cool of the early morning i would subsidize the eight native sailors, getting them to open the shelled treasures, while i garnered the pearls. with this thought uppermost, i turned in on a cushionless bench to snatch a few hours' sleep. but slumber was out of the question; my brain was planning what might be done with the pearls i was soon to possess. yes, there surely would be plenty for a pearl-studded tiara for the loved one awaiting me; and any superfluity might be made into ropes and collars for admiring relatives at home. cousin jessie had always coveted a necklace of pearls with a diamond clasp. the dainty baubles were in those sacks; there was no question about that. yes, my luck at pearl-getting would compensate for missing sir thomas lipton's dinner in colombo. sleep always comes in time, and at last i was dreaming of the cargo of priceless gems with me on the boat. how extremely uncomfortable the bench was! what was that! i was not asleep, but very wide-awake--and such pains! in an instant i was rolling on the deck and shrieking from the terribleness of my suffering. could it be cholera, the plague, or simply appendicitis with which i was stricken? the sailors held me down, but not a soul on board knew a word of english. i was positive that my end had come, and the thought of expiring away from friends and with a pocketful of prepaid around-the-world tickets was not agreeable. in an hour the pain was excruciating, and it continued for ten long hours with varying severity. morning came, and the indian skipper was plying his furnace with lubricating oil and turpentine--with anything that would help him get me to colombo and medical skill. at last, eighteen hours out from marichchikkaddi, the _active_ was in the harbor and i was being carried to the grand oriental hotel. "what about the two bags of oysters, the captain wishes to know!" the hotel interpreter asked. "oh, give them to the men," was the answer; "i have ceased to care for pearl-studded tiaras and collars. i'm glad to get away alive from the decaying millions of oysters at the fishery. even god's free air there is poisoned by them. what i want most is a doctor." chapter iv upward to the shrine of buddha from colombo it is but seventy-five miles to ceylon's ancient capital, and the journey thither is picturesque almost beyond description. for fifty miles the railway leads through the rich vegetation of the lowlands, with groves of cocoanut palms seemingly as boundless as the sea. in a suburb of colombo the sacred kelani river is crossed, at a point not remote from the buddhist temple claimed to be contemporary with gautama himself. the valley of the kelani is vivid with rice-fields of green. the line then pushes its way through a bewildering medley of tropical vegetation--there are miles of cashew and breadfruit trees, of frangipani and jaks, and more than once a stately talipot-palm is discerned in full blossom--for half a century the tree has stored its vitality for this one effort; and the burst of splendor spent, its career on earth is ended. for twenty-five miles the train zigzags up hills, running now and then on the edge of a shelf from whence the traveler looks down hundreds of feet sheer upon foam-crested rapids. the journey from colombo to kandy affords one of the memorable experiences of ceylon. [illustration: a lady of kandy] england has held the interior region of the island, controlled for centuries by the kandyan kings, for but ninety odd years, and it is curious to observe wings of palaces at kandy, where a semi-barbaric rule long held sway, employed now as british administrative offices. little antiquity is discernible in the old hill capital, due to former rival interests of the portuguese and dutch. when one nation had control of the picturesque town, it was customary to efface or demolish everything that the other had done. kandy is the city of buddha's tooth, and as such is the object of unbounded reverence with more than four hundred million inhabitants of the earth. oudh, where gautama buddha died, lacks the sacred importance of kandy; and the sepulcher at jerusalem means no more to christians, nor mecca and medina to followers of mahomet. kandy was but a mountain village when the holy molar was brought here in the sixteenth century for safe-keeping. the small temple wherein it was deposited was beautified and enlarged, and finally the priesthood made the place their principal seat, and the kandyan kings later made the city their stronghold and capital of the country. thousands of pilgrims come yearly to offer to the temple of the tooth their gifts of gold and silver ornaments, coins, jewels, vestments for the priests, even fruits and flowers--and these devotees have traveled from every hamlet of ceylon and from every land where buddha has believers--from nepaul, the malay peninsula, china, japan, even from siberia and swedish lapland. the kings of burmah and siam, in compliance with the wish of their subjects, send annual contributions toward the support of the temple enshrining the tooth; and buddhist priests in far-away japan correspond with the hierarchy of the temple of kandy. no other tooth has the drawing power of this one, certainly. strange to say. buddhism has been cast out from india, where it originated, by the hindu faith, which it was meant to reform. in india's enormous population scarce seven millions to-day worship at buddha's shrine. christianity, as well, is a stranger to the land where it was born. it appears the irony of fate that these great religions, glorious in principle, have abiding places without number, save in the countries where they originated. but such is the fact. few scholars can study the tenets of buddhism without the conviction that it is a religion of striking merit--that is, as form and dogma are described by writers and commentators; but as practised by races not far removed from pagan illiteracy, with whom idolatry and superstition are inherent, it may no longer be the perfection of doctrine that was espoused by prince gautama. sir edwin arnold, who thoroughly knew most eastern religions, admired enthusiastically the precepts of buddha, and no one can read his writings without experiencing some regard for the buddhism of literature. in "the light of asia" the five commandments of the great religion of the orient are thus poetically recited: kill not--for pity's sake--and lest ye slay the meanest thing upon its upward way. give freely and receive, but take from none by greed, or force or fraud, what is his own. bear not false witness, slander not, nor lie; truth is the speech of inward purity. shun drugs and drinks which work the wit abuse; clear minds, clean bodies, need no soma juice. touch not thy neighbor's wife, neither commit sins of the flesh unlawful and unfit. whether present-day buddhism is the exact religion taught by the princely priest, and gracefully described by the english poet, matters little--its fountainhead is kandy, and temple and dependencies of the sacred bone form the vatican of the faith. this miraculous tooth, alleged to be the left eye-tooth of gautama buddha, and taken from the ashes of his funeral pyre twenty-five hundred years ago, has played a mighty part in eastern intrigue, and wars between nations have been fought over it. for centuries it was the priceless marriage dower going with certain favored princesses of royal blood. it was brought from india to ceylon in the fourth century after christ. the malabars secured it by conquest more than once, the portuguese had it for a time at goa, and for safety it was brought to kandy in the sixteenth century, and it has there since been cared for with scrupulous fidelity. a relic supported by so much history should at least be genuine--the history may be all right, but the tooth is a shambling hoax, at best a crude proxy for the molar of gautama. intelligent priests of buddhism must know this, but the millions of common people finding solace in the faith have never heard the truth--and wouldn't believe it if they did. no more amazing display of faith over a reputed sacred relic is known than is associated with this bogus tooth of kandy. reference to any library of unimpeachable works on the world's religions proves conclusively that the actual tooth was burned by the catholic archbishop of goa in , in the presence of the viceroy of india and his suite--this is authentic history. six years after the event at goa a spurious tooth had to be provided to effect an international marriage long under contract, and the molar of a wild boar or of an ape was used. this tooth eventually was brought to the town nestling in the hills of ceylon, and surrounding it grew the capital of the proud kingdom of the kandyans. in the year of waterloo, the british overthrew the reigning sovereign, and the bogus tooth and its temple have since had the protection of english rule. [illustration: the temple of the tooth, kandy] the dimensions of the tooth are fatal to its pretended genuineness, for it is a discolored ivory two inches in length and one in diameter. no human mouth ever gave shelter to such a tooth. to view it would be a test of credulity too trying even for fanaticism to stand. the hoax, consequently, is concealed from sight. on important occasions it is displayed--at a distance. when the duke and duchess of york visited kandy the high priests of the temple exhibited the tooth; and on occasions it is supposed to be carried in processions through the streets on the back of an elephant--but deception and trickery in connection with the tooth come easy. the enshrined humbug reposes on a massive silver table, encrusted with gems and festooned with jeweled chains. the chamber in which it is kept in the temple is stiflingly hot, with atmosphere heavy from the perfume of flowers. within six or eight bell-shaped metal covers the tooth is held by a standard as if emerging from the petals of a lotus flower of gold. visitors to the museum at colombo may see a replica of the relic and its setting: it is a tawdry, unimpressive object. glance where you will in kandy, drive in any direction, penetrate any avenue or footpath, and priestly disciples of buddha, of every age from the novice to the patriarch of exalted rank, accost the vision. pilgrims appear to be constantly arriving. they are present from jaffna in the north, from galle in the south, from nuara eliya in the mountains, from everywhere--some come on foot, some by curious carts drawn by buffaloes or bullocks, some by railroad train. all are unshod, and the head of each is bare and shaven. each wears the robe of eternal yellow, with an arm and shoulder bare, and the sunshade and palm fan have been the adjuncts of the brotherhood since gautama left his royal parents' house to teach the word of buddha. celibacy is the rule of the priesthood. nothing can be less obtrusive than the demeanor of the brethren. visitors to their temples are welcomed, and courteous replies are always made to inquiries. cremation is general in the priesthood, but apparently optional with others of the faith. when a dignitary of the priesthood passes away his confrères assemble from far and near at the funeral pyre to do him honor. the incineration usually takes place in a palm grove. the corpse is surrounded with dried wood, made additionally inflammable with oils. the rites of the pyre include nothing of a sensational character; the assemblage chants for a time, then a priest of high rank applies the torch, and in an hour nothing remains but a mound of embers and ashes. a cremation may be readily witnessed at kandy or colombo, or other place possessing a considerable population. the peoples of low caste of the east are too numerous to be catalogued. india teems with them, of course, and the paradise island of ceylon has a considerable percentage of human beings denied by their betters of almost every privilege save breathing the free air of heaven. the lowlands and coastal regions have been so commercialized that human pariahs are there almost overlooked--but they are at every turning of the road in every hamlet, everywhere. kandy, once royal city, knows the abhorred low caste to-day as it did five hundred years ago, for in plain view of the capital in the hills there are settlements of men and women still excluded from communion with the world by reason of a royal curse pronounced centuries ago--and it is a condition worse than death itself. representatives of the rodiya caste may be seen any day by pedestrians in the city's outskirts. there are not many of them, fortunately--perhaps a thousand all told. tradition has it that hundreds of years ago a vengeful monarch condemned their race to never-ending degradation for having supplied the royal table with human flesh instead of venison. custom forces these poor mortals to ford or swim a stream, instead of using a ferry; and forbids their drawing water at public wells. they must not live in houses like other people, but in hovels constructed usually by leaning a hurdle against a rock, and their men and women must never clothe their bodies above the waist. until recent years courts of justice have been closed to them, and if overtaken on their travels by darkness they must find shelter in caves or abandoned hovels. they recognize their degradation by falling on their knees when addressing even toilers on the highway, and shout a warning on the approach of a traveler, that he may halt long enough for them to get off the road to secure his passing without possibility of defilement. these groveling worms of the earth are nominally buddhists, but are forbidden to enter a temple. hence they pray "standing afar off." demon worship is accredited to them. their headman can officiate only when he has obtained the sanction of the common jailor of the district. even to ask alms they must not enter a fenced property, and it is said at kandy that water over which their shadows have fallen is held to be so defiled that other natives will not use it until purified by the sun's rays. and thus it is; their race is penalized in every manner, and the ban goes unchallenged by the miserable beings. their denial by mankind of ordinary fellowship has driven them to filthy and beastly habits. they devour the flesh of monkeys and tortoises, even carrion, it is claimed; and of late years they haunt feasts and ceremonials hoping to obtain fragments of food thrown from the tables of their betters. now and then they are paid something for watching fields, and for burying carcasses of dead cattle. it is not known that they are thieves, but they are shunned as if they were. in emergencies, when there is a scarcity of labor, they are induced to work on tea estates, or at road mending; but the habits of vagabondage are too rooted to allow their remaining long in useful employment. [illustration: cremation of a buddhist priest] superior in every way to their men, the rodiya women are the most beautiful in all ceylon. their scantiness of raiment, it is pleaded in their behalf, is due in no sense to immodesty. rodiya girls wander the country as dancers and jugglers, and their erect figures, elastic step, and regalness of carriage, would be envied by the proudest woman promenading vanity fair; some of them have faces so perfect in a classic way that a sculptor or painter might make himself famous by reproducing them. believe not that these miserable people represent the lowest grade of degradation in lanka's isle, for there are two outcast races so far beneath them in the social scale as to be avoided by rodiyas as if they reeked with a pestilential disease. these castes are hopelessly beyond the pale. british rule in asia recognizes no caste distinctions, but it has been a humane work of the wives of several english governors of ceylon to seek to improve the position of the women of the rodiya caste, especially of the young girls. some benefit is claimed as a result of the efforts of the english women--but the majesty and power of great britain are puny institutions compared with the force of caste among native races. to keep down the rodiya population a certain kandyan king, it is stated on good authority, used to have a goodly number of them shot each year. chapter v in ceylon's hill country when good kandyans discourse in flowery vein, they say kandy is only forty miles from heaven. visitors who have fallen under the charm of the place are more likely to wonder at their moderation than question their ability to measure celestial distances. if gautama buddha's "eternal rest" were to be had on earth, kandy would surely be the reward of nirvana promised those who have acquired merit. the beauty of kandy is based upon naturalness; it is not grand like taormina in sicily, nor produced by nature and art in combination like monte carlo. everything connected with the spot is fascinating, even the jungle that by day harbors the jackals which sometimes make night hideous to sojourners. everybody appears happy; even elephants hauling timber in the suburbs toil cheerfully. this inland province that formed the kingdom of kandy preserved its integrity throughout the portuguese and dutch invasions of the island; and the english were in possession of the coast section full nineteen years before the kandyan monarchy succumbed to their power. this beautiful city was a different place under the native kings. they loved grandeur, apparently, but it was the grandeur of selfish surroundings and luxury. the lake now the center of the city was constructed by the last king, it is true; but its shore witnessed atrocities never surpassed in savage excess. near the spot where stands a monastery of yellow robed monks of buddha, the last king assembled his people in to witness the punishment of the innocent wife and children of a fleeing official accused of treason. by the blow of a sword the head of each child was severed from its body in the mother's presence, even that of the babe wrenched from her breast. the heads were placed in a mortar, and the woman forced under threat of disgraceful torture to pound them with a huge pestle. when news of this reached the coast the english determined to intervene in the interests of humanity. while the horror was yet fresh in the public mind, a party of native merchants of colombo came to kandy to trade. the fiendish king ordered them seized and horribly mutilated. when, a few weeks later, the survivors returned to the sea-coast deprived of ears, noses and hands--with the severed members tied to their necks--the english decided to act immediately. three months later kandy was in their possession, and the king an exile in southern india. from that time, with the exception of a few years when the hereditary kandyan chiefs were troublesome through finding their privileges circumscribed, the progress of ceylon as a whole has been remarkable. perhaps the finest example of benefits coming with england's colonial rule is this "eden of the eastern wave." slavery and forced labor on public works have been abolished, fine roads constructed everywhere, and adequate educational facilities placed within easy reach. a visitor perceives no squalor, few beggars, and apparently no genuine poverty. all these advantages have been secured practically without taxing the natives in any manner. uniform contentment, consequently, is everywhere visible. the naked babies, looking like india-rubber dolls, have apparently never learned to cry. oddly enough, the english made kandy the saint helena of arabi pasha's exile, until the broken and aged man was permitted a few years since to return to his beloved egypt. [illustration: trees in peradeniya garden, kandy] itself beautiful with poinsettia, bougainvillea, crotons, hibiscus and palms, a botanical garden in kandy would seem to have no proper place. but the city possesses one that is almost unique among tropical gardens. it is in the suburb of peradeniya, four miles out, and it is embraced on three sides by ceylon's principal stream, the mahavaliganga. for eighty years the ceylon government has treated the peradeniya garden and its associated experimental stations as an investment--and it has paid well, for through its agency the cultivation of cinchona, cacao, rubber and other economic crops has been introduced to the people. throughout asia the peradeniya garden is famous. whether the claim that it is the finest in the world be correct would require an expert to determine. the botanical garden at demerara may be as good, if not larger and better. a layman visiting peradeniya returns to kandy in a state of bewilderment. he has seen so many attractive and strange manifestations of nature that lucid description is beyond his power. he is aware, nevertheless, that he has viewed nearly every tree, shrub, plant and vine known to tropical and subtropical climes; shrubs that produce every spice, perfume and flavoring he ever heard of, or that contribute to medicine, as well. at peradeniya the palm family has nearly a hundred representatives, including the areca, palmyra, talipot, royal, fan, traveler's, date and cocoanut. the forty or more varieties of crotons include the curious corkscrew of the west indies, and range extravagantly in colors and markings. huge assam rubber-trees have exposed roots suggesting a tangle of octopi. a tree noticeable for its perfect foliage is the breadfruit; and there are sensitive plants that shrink from intimate attention, and water-plants whose roots need not come into contact with the earth. here and there are kola trees, cardamom bushes, aloe plants from which sisal is drawn, camphor and cinnamon shrubs, and probably every species of the parasitical family, depending like many human beings upon stronger relatives or neighbors for support. the orchid enclosure would arouse any collector's covetousness. there are foliage plants producing leaves counterfeiting elephant ears, and others that look like full spread peacock tails. a small leaf which the official guide of the gardens is obviously partial to is deep green when held to the light, purple when slightly turned, and deep red if looked at from another angle. the visitor moves swiftly into the sunlight when told that he is standing in the shade of the deadly upas. a traveler approaching the island of ceylon hears constantly of the wonders of peradeniya; and some statements in praise of the garden are taken usually with reserve, especially that asserting there are trees there which develop so rapidly that the spectator can actually see them grow. this seems incredible, but there is ample basis for the statement. after a rain the fronds of the giant bamboo frequently grow a foot in the course of a day. at the office of the director of the garden are records of many measurements proving that fronds have lengthened a half inch in an hour. a tree growing a half inch in sixty minutes is a ceylon fact. the first time i went to peradeniya, thousands of flying-foxes, suspended bat-like from the giant bamboos a hundred feet from the earth, were sleeping away the day, while soaring above the trees were hundreds of these queer objects, scolding like disturbed crows. [illustration: tamil coolie setting out tea plants] peradeniya's visitors come from every land in the world, some traveling great distances to see the wonders of the garden. one has not to be arboriculturist or botanist to appreciate the establishment; it is always entertaining, sometimes amusing, and appeals variously to the tastes of visitors. for example, the mexican goes involuntarily to the aloe from which his beloved pulque is made, the egyptian to the date-palm, the connecticut man to the nutmeg grove, and the new yorker to the tree under which handfuls of cloves may be scooped up without charge, whereas at home they are acquired one at a time at considerable expense. explore the highways and byways of kandy keenly as one may, nothing is in evidence explaining its manifest prosperity--the place has no distinctive product or business. it is the seat of management, however, of the island's greatest industry--tea raising. in ceylon tea is "king." this being the fact, no visitor to the town where the planters' association has its administrative machinery can close his ears to tea talk. elsewhere people talk over their tea-cups; in kandy, they talk tea over every other kind of cup. kandy's big hotel bristles with planters in overspreading sun hats, as do club and friendly bungalow verandas. some are "down" for a day (and a night) from up-country estates, while others are "up" from smallish properties at levels below kandy. nearly all have to purchase supplies and draw a few sacks of rupees from the bank with which to pay off their coolies. but some have come to discuss market conditions and prospects with their agents. a few, not yet wholly emancipated from the social side of life in which they were reared, have journeyed to kandy to rub shoulders for a few days with civilization. the orbit of each and every one of these transplanted britons is tea, and this in its primal form. they can have no concern with steel common. amalgamated copper or erie 's, and to them the jargon of stock exchanges would be as meaningless as sanskrit platitudes. their speculative medium is tea--tea in bulk, and pretty large bulk at that. the daily cable from london summarizing the tea market interests each of these men as vitally as the tale of the ticker interests the american taking a flier in stocks. the story is told in two or three lines, and by a presentation of numerals appearing exceedingly unimportant to the sojourner whose operations in tea never exceeded the purchase of a pound package. [illustration: tamil girl plucking tea] yes, the figures tell the story--a tale of occasional success, but often of failure and woe. a bracketed set of fractions explains the range of prices for broken pekoes, another set deals with common pekoes, another with orange pekoes, and still another with common souchongs. then follow such words as "steady," "generally firm," and "somewhat lower"--each a phrase with potential significance. the crux of the communication, like that of a school-girl's letter, comes last. if it reads "general market closed - th penny up," the planter has visions of happiness and affluence, and forthwith orders a "peg." but if the postscript says " - th down," the young planter foresees nothing but disaster, and may consider levanting with the bags of rupees by the next steamer from colombo. a planter is always a bull on prices, while the important buyer in europe is chronically bearish. the yearly tea product of ceylon is aggregating , , pounds, and of this uncle sam purchases , , pounds, while , , go to great britain. the value of the annual output varies little from $ , , --and from this ceylon supports itself so comfortably that the tea-plant seems to merit adoption as the emblem of the colony. the rise of the industry affords one of the most remarkable instances of rapid development of an agricultural pursuit. coffee used to be the dominating crop in the island, until "coffee blight" ruined the industry. tea was then experimented with. in barely a thousand acres were under tea; now the acreage is , . a journey from kandy to nuwara eliya, in the mountains, is through an interminable tea-garden, and on every hand is proof of substantial investment of capital. the choicest crops are raised between five and six thousand feet above sea-level, and lands in this zone are worth as much as $ an acre. the scientific cultivation of tea paid its pioneers handsomely, but the current opinion is that overproduction is killing prices, and that a new crop must be sought--probably rubber. ceylon's important tea estates are the property of companies, whose shares are dealt in on the london and colombo stock exchanges. small plantations are owned by individuals, usually the persons conducting them. one or two thousand europeans, mainly englishmen and scotchmen, are employed on the important estates as managers, assistants and accountants. hosts of young britons work a year or two without compensation for the experience. they are called "creepers," and some of them eventually obtain salaried offices, or embark in the industry on their own account. the laboring force on an estate is provided chiefly by tamil coolies from southern india, and numbers from one to two thousand. both men and women contrive to lay by a competence at a wage rate of from eight to fifteen cents a day. if let alone, the tea-plant would grow to be a tree eighteen or twenty feet high, but by generous top pruning it is kept down to three feet, thus becoming a squat bush possessing a biggish leafing area. every eight or twelve days the shoots and young leaves are plucked--when treated these become the tea of commerce. tea-plants are alike, speaking generally, grades being effected by the discrimination of picker and sorter. fresh buds and tender young leaves make the pekoes, older ones the souchongs. tea gathered exclusively from buds and tips is called "flowery;" if the first young leaf be included, it is "orange pekoe." in order of quality the ceylon grades are: orange pekoe, pekoe, pekoe-souchong, souchong, congou, and dust. [illustration: a kandyan chieftain] tea-plants are perennial, and are set about four feet apart on hillsides. at three years of age they become productive. familiar sights in the hills are the coolies with baskets of slips setting out plants wherever unemployed spaces may be found, and groups of tamil girls plucking buds and young leaves from mature bushes. these girls are happy countenanced, some slender and graceful in carriage and movement, and none express objection to being snapshotted by travelers. the girls' baskets are emptied and contents systematically sorted at convenient places in the field, or at the factory. essential to every important estate is the factory, for there the leaves are withered, broken by rolling, fermented, fired, and finally sifted into grades preparatory to packing in lead-lined boxes ready to be despatched to the markets of the universe. it is reassuring to witness the system and scrupulous cleanliness of every step employed in producing ceylon tea. anybody who has spent a day on an up-country estate is fairly certain to be friendly to ceylon tea the rest of his life, for modern machinery does much of the work which in china and japan is performed by hands none too clean and amid surroundings none too healthful. chapter vi bombay and its parsee "jees" and "bhoys" the parsee is the only sect holding religious tenets strange enough to stamp them as "peculiar people" who amount to much in the material affairs of life. every country possesses groups of people having religious beliefs and practices which attract to them a curious interest; but bombay's parsee colony is the only illustration of a brotherhood following strange lives who shine resplendently in the financial and social worlds. everything in bombay is dominated by the parsee element, and every public hospital and other charitable institution, public statue, or drinking fountain, is the benefaction of a parsee. the mansions and finest villas are parsee homes, the leaders of club life are parsees, and almost every bank and influential commercial house bears a parsee name on its door. bombay's population is not far from nine hundred thousand, of which the parsees number only sixty thousand--but this minority impresses its importance on the majority and gives a character of unique interest to the city. these dominating people are indians only by adoption. twelve hundred years ago the mohammedan conquerors of persia persecuted the disciples of zoroaster to an extent that many of the strongest men and women of the faith fled to india for safety, and the parsees of to-day are the descendants of these refugees. for generations they have made education a feature, have always helped each other, and been extremely clannish, although preserving toward people of other religions a respectful attitude. their creed, claimed to have descended from the hebrew prophet daniel, is expressed in three precepts of two words each: good thoughts, good words, good deeds. orthodox parsees wear a white girdle of three coils as reminder of these principles; but present-day parsee men have discarded all evidences of their creed save the designating vizorless cap, and dress in garments of european pattern, and their women are garbed in robes of delicately-shaded and clinging silks, and wear embroidered mantillas on their heads. most parsees are superbly educated, variously accomplished, and speak english fluently. their equipages are the smartest in bombay, and every walk of life is led by them. the great fortunes of this part of india are theirs, and parsee names are identified with everything contributing to bombay's importance. these names are strikingly peculiar, are usually of from four to six syllables, the last being usually "jee" or "bhoy." the jeejeebhoy family is intensely parsee, of course, and important enough to possess an english baronetcy. the city's principal hospital was the gift of jamsetjee jeejeebhoy. other families of renown in the financial world are the readymoneys, jehangirs and sassoons. turn where you may the eye meets something donated to the public by generous parsees. these people have long been loyal supporters of british rule in india, and frequently able to neutralize hindu or mohammedan opposition to a public measure. baronetcies and knighthoods have consequently been showered upon them from london. incidentally, a good deal of the money with which hospitals and libraries were given by great parsees of a former generation came as reward for running a successful "corner" in indian cotton at the time of america's civil war. lancashire mills could get no staple from the southern states, and astute bombay capitalists, securing control of the native crop, held the same until the price advanced from ten or twelve cents to a dollar a pound. the fruits of this _coup_., some of them at least, dotted bombay with noble buildings and statues. some parsees drive public street vehicles, work on tramways and railways, and pursue humbler vocations, it is true; but most parsees dwell in princely homes and go to their offices and clubs in splendidly appointed broughams and victorias. success in life even in parseedom is based upon the principle of survival of the fittest--or astutest. [illustration: parsee tower of silence, bombay] the parsees stoutly deny that they are fire worshippers. the sacred flame perpetually burning in their houses of worship, brought by their ancestors from persia, is but a symbol, they insist. god, according to their faith, is the emblem of glory, refulgence, and spiritual life; therefore they face the holy flame when praying as the most fitting symbol of the deity. in the open air they prostrate themselves when praying to the setting sun. parsee temples are plain to severity, with walls bare and floors uncovered and empty; but there is always the recess wherein burns the sacred fire of incense and sandalwood. the method of dealing with the parsee dead is startlingly original, and said to be in strict keeping with the teaching of zoroaster. according to parsee tenets fire is too highly venerated to be polluted by burning the dead, while water is equally respected, and mother earth as well. hence the parsees offer their dead to the elements and the birds of the air, and the bones of rich and poor, high and low, even of the malefactor and suicide, are consigned to eternity in crumbled state in a common pit. the towers of silence occupy the finest site on malabar hill, overlooking beautiful bombay, and high above the arabian sea--it is nature's beauty spot, embowered in graceful shrubbery and palms, with fragrant flowers everywhere. the governor of bombay presidency resides at malabar point, further along, and the homes of men high in officialdom or commerce occupy every available site in the neighborhood. the towers, five in number, are of whitewashed stone and cement, feet in circumference, and perhaps twenty-five feet high. an iron door admits the corpse of the parsee, and once within the strange building it is proffered to the birds of the air--gloating vultures, coarse and repugnant in every aspect. four carriers of the dead are seen approaching the beautiful garden with a bier on their shoulders. two bearded men, the only living persons permitted to enter a tower, come next. then follow from fifty to a hundred mourners and friends in pure white robes, walking two and two, each couple holding a handkerchief between them in token of a united grief. the apex of the hill reached, the mourners turn into the house of prayer, wherein the eternal fire is burning, or take position beneath spreading palms for solitary meditation. the bearers deliver the corpse to the bearded functionaries at the entrance to the tower, and these carry it within. the floor of the tower is of iron grating with three circles whereon the corpses are placed. the inner circle is for children, the next for women, and the outer for men. the bearded men are lost to view for a minute or two only, and their concluding office within is to remove the shroud, leaving the body wholly bare. the iron door clangs as they emerge, there is a mighty whir of wings, and in a twinkling the corpse is in possession of hundreds of greedy, competing vultures. in twenty minutes not a vestige of flesh remains on the bones, and the loathsome birds resume their watch from the edge of the tower for the next comer. their experienced gaze perceives a funeral procession a mile away in the direction of the city, and a signal cry is so readily understood by vultures resting on trees in the neighborhood that a unanimous attendance is assured long before the corpse passes the portal of the grounds. the human skeletons are left within the tower to disintegrate by action of sun and wind, heat and cold. in time the bearded men, gloved and with tongs, remove them to a vast well in the middle of the enclosure, where with lapse of time they turn to dust. corpses being considered unclean by parsee standards, carriers of the dead, as well as those who enter the towers, are assigned to a class by themselves, and forbidden to mix with others of their strange religion. there is a superstition that an awful curse would be visited upon an unauthorized person whose gaze fell upon a body or skeleton inside a tower of silence. the habiliments of those whose duty takes them within are always destroyed before they leave the grounds. whatever may be claimed in defense of the parsee method of dealing with their dead, from a sanitary standpoint, the custom possesses an aspect gruesome in the extreme. the hindus' system of burning on the river bank is even less repulsive. if any city in the east is sport-mad it is bombay. men work there mornings and engage in something of a sportive character afternoons. the school-boy, even, slings his books from a hockey stick, and the departmental clerk sets out for an afternoon's sociability accompanied by his faithful tennis racquet. nowhere can better polo be seen than on the marine lines maidan; as for cricket, there probably are more players in bombay, british and native, than in any town of its population in england--and bombay's cricket is of the best. more than once have crack teams out from england been heartlessly beaten by local parsee players. golf is considered too slow. the next best thing to being a member of the nobility is for a briton to belong to the royal bombay yacht club, for it gives him the _cachet_ to everything asiatic. the club-house on the apollo bunder possesses the best situation on the water front, and from its verandas fashionables watch matches that are sailed with consummate skill. during winter months foot-ball appeals strongly to the soldier class, while motor-car races and trials appear to be daily events. [illustration: a bombay railway station] it is the horse that is king, however, in bombay's pastimes. the hunt club sends the smart set to the suburbs now and then, and tent-pegging and pig-sticking draw biggish audiences from the military class whenever contests are announced. but the paramount sport of the masses is horse-racing, pure and simple. the course is on the plains a few miles out of town, close to a suburb given over to cotton-mills, where nearly as many spindles fly as at fall river. all bombay seems to be at the races, irrespective of religious or social distinctions--everyone present loves the horse and appears possessed of a goodly supply of rupees with which to back his selections. the jockey club has its own lawn and private enclosure on the stand, and there is a box for the governor and anybody coming from government house. the grand-stand bears a minor importance to the betting ring, for the latter holds a surging, throbbing medley of humanity--society folk from india's innermost official set, sleek parsees wearing gold rimmed eye-glasses, rajahs from all parts, wealthy merchants and bankers, fez-wearing mohammedans from the world of islam, men from the persian gulf in astrachan head-gear, pathans from beyond the himalayas, sikhs from the punjab--as can be gathered in great india, the museum of the human race. three score book-makers howl their bargains in raucous tones, and a whirlwind of rupee paper passes to the strong boxes. the crowd is backing the favorites. even the arab horse dealers from the bhendi bazaar, manly fellows in the garb of desert sheikhs, whose pockets bulge with rolls of notes, comprehend the book-makers' jargon of english that might be incomprehensible to an oxford don. a prince who is heir to the rulership of one of the greatest states in india has no scruples against inviting an expression of opinion as to so-and-so's bay filly of a native sportsman with beard dyed red with henna, in keeping with the fashion of his kind. escorted ladies of position, and unescorted women in pairs from grant road, are present before the betting booths. fair parsee ladies, wearing clinging robes of delicate shades, wait patiently while their swains place their money on the impending event. a bell rings loudly--the horses are at the post. the mob rushes from the betting ring to the lawn; only few take the trouble to climb to their seats. it is a quick race. the crowd of standees in the inner field see it best, and down this mighty nondescript body is echoed the cry "kedge anchor!" sure enough, "kedge anchor," an unknown from australia, ridden by a jockey of obscure past, wins the great race. three favorites are ingloriously beaten. up go the numbers. all is over in less than two minutes--and the crowd goes pell-mell back to the book-makers' enclosure, hoping for better luck over the next race on the card. if rupees were dollars, the financial aspect of a bombay racing day would be important. kipling wrote true when he called bombay "india's queen city." it lacks the depressing influences of calcutta, as well as the odors. indeed, it is one of the handsomest cities of the whole british empire, and has more notable buildings than manchester or edinburgh. true, its stately piles blend the gothic and indian schools of architecture, but otherwise there is nothing eastern about bombay--save its people. a man awakening from long slumber on a ship anchored off the apollo bunder would willingly swear he beheld a european town. eight tenths of india's visitors arrive and depart from bombay. the opening of the suez canal made certain the importance of bombay as a trade center. it is now the largest cotton port in the world next to new orleans, and if plague and smallpox might be controlled for five years it would have a population of a million. bombay is a comparatively modern city, as cities count in immemorial india. england secured bombay in , not by conquest, but as a portion of the marriage dowry of catharine of braganza of portugal, when she became the queen of charles ii. the world's most artistic railway station--not the largest, nor costliest--is in bombay, and the best marble statue in existence of queen victoria was presented to the bombay municipality by his highness the gaekwar of baroda. another notable gift is the bronze statue of edward vii, donated by sir albert sassoon, son of a public-spirited banker from baghdad, who took up his residence in bombay. a newcomer among the city's office buildings is "roosevelt house," advantageously situated near the apollo bunder. the eyes of the person recently arrived from europe or america behold many strange and amusing sights in the streets of bombay, and for days your local guide and the obliging porter at the hotel is kept busy the livelong day answering questions. the native policeman is a human institution who explains himself. it is averred that he is loyal and efficient, but with his calfless legs bared to the knee and feet shod in sandals, he looks a queer cousin of fifth avenue's "finest" and of the "bobby" of london. a person unaccustomed to the habits of subject races gets the idea that the bombay constable's first duty is the touching of his cap to white men, all and sundry; but it is said to his credit that in a street brawl or a water front quarrel among drunken lascars he fights like a wildcat. he is extremely proud of his truncheon, for it is a badge of office tremendously respected in the city's labyrinths where india's heterogeneous peoples dwell a dozen or more in a room. during the wet monsoon the policeman of bombay carries an umbrella supplied by the municipality, which heightens his comical aspect--but it keeps him dry. [illustration: bombay policeman] the markings and badges of caste observed in bombay streets lead you to a constant interrogation of your sources of information. at the outset you determine to obtain an understanding of the institution of indian caste, but a fortnight after your arrival in bombay you conclude that the task is too great for anybody having other things to do, and give it up in despair. a few facts connected with this supreme and dominating characteristic take root in your memory, however, and you have learned that the customs and rites of caste could not be strengthened even by legal enactments, or by the massed strength of all the armies on earth. the word is derived from the latin word _castus_, implying purity of blood, and whose essential principle is marriage. india's population groups forty-seven nationalities, divided into , recognized castes and tribes. accident of birth determines irrevocably a native's social and domestic relationship, prescribing even what he may eat and drink throughout life, how he must dress, and whom he may marry. there are four fundamental divisions of caste--the priestly or brahmin (which has close upon fifteen million devotees), the warrior, the trading, and the laboring; and these have interminable subdivisions. below the laboring caste there is a substratum which is termed pariah or outcast, and these degraded specimens of humanity are not better than animated machines performing the functions of public scavengers. throughout india caste is hereditary. the son of a priest becomes a priest, a warrior's son becomes a soldier, and a carpenter's boy a carpenter, and so on. for a father to start a son in any calling but his own, or a vocation that is similar, would be "against his caste." caste is social as well as religious, and includes the occupation as well as the creed. for a hindu to rise from his inherited caste is next to impossible, and this tends to make the hindus an ambitionless race. the infusion of new blood is likewise not tolerated, and in india "caste" and "custom" are perfect synonyms--and each a national curse. a major part of the people of india are agriculturists, men and women who are dependent upon what they can wrest from the soil for their existence. their plough, an heirloom from remote antiquity, merely scratches the earth. the use of superior implements would result in superior tillage and augmented crops; but it would be as simple to induce the peasant to change his religion as to get him to forsake the plough used by his ancestors. the implements of daily life mostly belong to the barbarous ages. attempt to introduce any other and you are rebuked by the reply: "it is not the custom; my father used this article, and therefore it is my duty to use it. would you have me set myself up for a wiser person than my revered parent?" the toiling masses, consequently, are poor--and seem destined to remain poor until the close of the chapter. i heard of a contractor engaged in building a railway who objected to the physical toil and slowness of having a bank of earth removed by baskets on the heads of coolies. so he invested in a number of wheelbarrows and explained their use to the natives, and went back to his bombay office flattering himself that he was a reformer. the next week when he visited the scene of operations he found the barrows in use, but the coolies were filling them with dirt and carrying them up the bank on their heads as they had always carried their baskets. the coolie of hind is not to be beguiled by any demonstration intended to lighten his task, for he is crusted with conservatism and prejudice. in bombay i engaged a man-servant to accompany me on a trip to the punjab. it being a winter of unusual severity, and the journey involving much night travel, the agent from whom i hired the servant advised me that it would be a beneficial as well as a humane act were i to give the man ten rupees with which to procure an "outfit" suitable for one going to the north. "it's sometimes done, but not often enough to make it a custom," explained the agent; "but it would be the right thing--and because voluntary, the poor fellow should serve you all the better for your generosity. give him but ten rupees, and see that he spends it all for heavy undergarments and serviceable shoes." experiencing some haziness as to how any tittle of reputation for generosity was going to be reared on an expenditure aggregating just $ . in american money, i communicated my determination to the man who perforce was to be my constant companion for a month, and who had it in his power to make me love or hate the country. as was to be expected, i was many kinds of a sahib for my munificent benefaction, and torab jan salaamed almost to the floor when promising to return from the bazaars in good time to strap my mattress and pack my trunk in readiness to go to the station directly dinner was over. hours later, but in time to throw my clothes and books into trunk and bags, torab stalked into the apartment, and close upon his heels was another native carrying a not overlarge parcel. torab was frank in stating that he had purchased precisely what he needed, and proffered a snip of paper covered with characters in hindustani to prove he had expended precisely ten rupees, which made it necessary to have another benefaction--two annas this time. "what are the two annas for, and who is this man?" i asked. "he's the coolie bearing my parcel from the bazaar, master," was the response; "you must know that my caste makes it impossible for me to carry parcels." "see here, you drooling idiot; what do you think i have hired you for? why, you've got to carry parcels, lots of them, and big ones at that; and you'll have to carry that bed there and my trunk half over india, likely as not. don't talk to me about caste." "pray, master, don't be angry with me. i know i'm to carry _your_ things--that's what i'm for. i forgot to explain that my caste forbids only the carrying of my own parcels," the poor fellow whined. and so it was. in places where there were no carriages torab seemed to delight in loading himself dawn with my paraphernalia, but his belongings had always to be carried religiously by a native of a breed earning its living by acting as human drays. [illustration: his highness the maharajah of jeypore] chapter vii the vicarious maharajah of jeypore thousands of travelers make the pilgrimage to india, a land hoary with age, and when weary of overwrought temples and tombs, when arid plains and malodorous towns lose their power to interest, they journey north to rajputana to revel in jeypore, the unique--at least, lovers of kipling do. and the effect on jaded senses is like a cooling draught after a parching thirst. kipling called jeypore "a pink city, to see and puzzle over," it surely is pink, all of it that is not sky-blue, and for various reasons it is more satisfying than any other town in india. for a land where time is calculated by century units, jeypore is almost as recent as a "boom" city on an american prairie. as a fact, its first building was reared only a hundred and seventy-eight years ago; and this modernity explains thoroughfares of remarkable breadth that cross each other at right angles. generations the senior of jeypore, new york is no better exponent of the checker-board idea. jeypore is but the setting of a scene harking back to medieval days, however, and is the capital of an independent state greater in area than belgium, and from its palace and judicial chambers nearly three million souls are governed. nowhere in india, outside the great rajputana province, is it possible to view a picture of happy and contented life, and in the city of jeypore this is seen in its perfection. this ornate capital on the plains, hemmed in by fortress-crowned hills, is a veritable stronghold of feudal barons and armed retainers, of hermits and monasteries, and is dotted with palaces and public buildings pertaining to the maharajah's rule. many of the structures are new enough to suggest what americans love to call "modern conveniences." the principal streets are broader than broadway, as well paved, and illuminated by gas systematically enough installed to indicate the presence behind the scenes of european engineers. strange to say, jeypore is an indian city wherein the lordly briton in khaki is never seen: if the english functionary be here, his master is none other than the maharajah. through its streets surge a people almost childish in their happiness, some in ekkas drawn by matched pairs of bullocks, others mounted high on the backs of trotting camels, while bands of chattering rajputs on foot are omnipresent--every grouping reminds of something witnessed on the stage, and the _tout ensemble_ might be the great scene of a realistic opera intended to glorify the people and the institutions of india. feminine adornment is carried in jeypore to its extreme. the bright-hued skirts of the women are flare-fashioned and "fuller," in dressmakers' parlance, than anything dared by fay templeton. but the jeypore beauty's real passion is for gold and silver jewelry, and she carries this to a degree unrivaled by the women of any other section of india. it is not trifling with fact to say that the average rajput woman wears from eight to ten pounds in silver on ankles and toes, and bracelets enough to sheath arms from wrist to elbow. every feminine jeypore nose bears some metal ornamentation--gold studs through the nostrils, and generally a hoop of gold depending a full inch below the point of the chin. their ears are deformed by the wealth of metal hanging from lobe or strung on the upper rim of that organ. it can be said of jeypore's fair sex that they are bimetallists in the strictest sense. the argument of the savings-bank has probably never been brought to their attention, for when one of them has a little money ahead she purchases a silver ornament for her person; and if a windfall come to her by legacy or otherwise, she buys something of gold, most likely a necklace of barbaric design. when one of these women goes to the market-place or the public well, she wears everything of value she possesses, and for the best of reasons her home is never pilfered. rajput men and women look a visitor in the face, and by their smiling countenances seem to welcome you to their country. they lack the broken-spirited look and sullen servility of indian peoples overlorded by thomas atkins. in jeypore there are grandees and warriors, painted dogs, hunting leopards, bedecked horses, and hulking elephants in every street picture--and these pictures change with the facility of groupings of the kaleidoscope. the open-air shops of the metal workers and enamelers, and of the dyers, whose favorite colors are magenta and yellow, are interesting. there, on the left, is the imposing façade of the palace of the winds, extolled by sir edwin arnold as "a vision of daring and dainty loveliness," but which in reality is scarcely more than a mask of stucco erected to make a show from the street. the maharajah's palace and grounds cover a seventh of the area of this finest of modern hindu cities. a stone's throw from the palace portal is a temple wherein jeypore women beseech the image of siva to bless them with children: and elsewhere are a gate of rubies, and a temple of the sun. at scores of wayside shops tiny idols of the hindu hierarchy, and silver bracelets and gewgaws, are sold to people almost infantile in their cheerfulness. wedding processions pass and repass with a frequency proving an active matrimonial market, each led by joyous singers and drum-beaters. [illustration: a matched pair of bullocks, jeypore] an entrancing place is this seat of his highness of jeypore, and compensating for the tedious railway journey from delhi landing one at the city's gates in the inky darkness of : in the morning. at his hotel a visitor learns that a formal request must be made for permission to inspect the maharajah's palace and stables, and to go to the abandoned capital of the state, ambir, five miles away. you make application through a deputy, usually the man-servant traveling with you, and an hour later comes formal notification that his highness welcomes you to his capital, and that a state carriage will be sent for your use, as well as a state elephant to carry you up the hills to ambir. this outburst of hospitality comes with a surprise and force that almost sweeps one off his feet, and you have instant misgivings for having troubled the august potentate at such an unreasonable morning hour. then your brain almost reels as you recall books that had dwelt upon the limitless hospitality of eastern princes, and you hope that his highness will not insist upon your dining with him--with your evening dress and high hat awaiting you at a bombay hotel a command to the palace would, to say the least, be awkward. but you are spared this inconvenience, probably because the maharajah is as familiar with deputed affairs as you are. two gaudy chaprassis who have brought the desired permits are his highness's deputies, and from them you learn that their master has been for a fortnight at calcutta, but is expected to return in a day or two. they come into your room and assure you in fair english that they are detailed for your use as long as you honor jeypore with your benevolent presence. they wear curious swords high under the left arm, and beautifully inlaid shields are belted to their right arms--these trappings are badges of office, but you wonder if they would sell them to be taken to america to become conspicuous adornments of somebody's cosy corner. a person with a fondness for simplicity, or possessing scruples against kingly institutions, may escape the state carriage by despatching a firm and prompt declination of the honor. but the chaprassis remain; and the elephant, already trudging to the base of the ambir hills to await your coming, cannot be countermanded or headed off. in this charming manner the great maharajah entertains daily the handful of strangers within his gates--it is india's remaining relic of the hospitality of long ago. a distinction inordinately prized by native princes is the number of guns prescribed by the indian government as their salutes. the gaekwar of baroda and two other feudatory rulers are entitled to twenty-one guns, while the hereditary right of the maharajah of jeypore is only seventeen. but the present maharajah, as a reward for his enlightened administration, is made happy by having four additional guns--and no king or emperor can have higher acclaim from the cannon's mouth. [illustration: street scene, jeypore, showing palace of the winds] one cannot tarry a day in jeypore without hearing redundant testimony that his highness sir sewai madho singh is a fine man, devoted to his people and unswervingly loyal to his religion. his visitors are often lords and ladies of england, who find his hospitality as interesting as it is boundless. to the tips of his fingers he is a hindu devotee with all that the term can mean. when he attended the coronation of edward vii, in london, the preparations for his sea-voyage were unprecedented in orthodoxy. an ocean liner was specially chartered for him and his suite; in all one hundred and twenty-five people formed the escort. six special kitchens were fitted up on the ship, including one to prepare food exclusively for his highness. there was, as well, a special temple, paved with marble, for the family idol, before which the maharajah prostrated himself many times daily. drinking water from the sacred ganges, and every article of food--enough to sustain the entire party for six months--were carried from india. so rigidly was the orthodoxy observed that even the sand for cleaning cooking utensils was placed on board at bombay; and washermen, carpenters, blacksmiths, and others accompanied the party, that there be no necessity for purchasing anything in england, or having work done by persons not of the hindu faith. that the august traveler's caste be untainted, extra tanks of water from benares were subsequently sent to england by frequent steamers. the maharajah maintains a military force of nearly , cavalry and , infantrymen. besides these soldiers, his retainers number thousands, and their right to wear a sword is a coveted distinction throughout jeypore state. the palace stables contain three hundred horses, but the equipages and trappings are more interesting than the animals. there are some superb arab steeds, however. a visitor noting the army of grooms wonders that the management is not better systematized; but a word from your traveling companion, who knows the ways of maharajahs, is to the effect that an indian nabob is forced by custom to support thousands whether there be work for them or not. his highness's stables and carriage-houses somehow suggest a circus in winter quarters. the fact is that jeypore's ruler takes little interest in horseflesh and carriagemakers' creations. his preference is for elephants--animals befitting a dynasty descended from the sun and moon. "will the sahibs visit the elephant stable!" the sahibs communicate their desire to do so. mahouts with pikestaffs lead the way, and a myriad of hangers-on swarm in the train of the visitors. the accoutrements seen en route to the stable are interesting, surely, especially the howdahs. some of these are of silver. one was used by the prince of wales; another was fashioned for the maharajah's use at the delhi durbar, and a gorgeous one is reserved for the viceroy whenever that mighty personage pays a state visit to jeypore. a half-dozen howdahs are specially fitted for the maharajah's favorite sport, tiger-hunting. some of the howdah cloths represent a fortune in gold and silver bullion, while a few are saved from tawdriness by the skill of the embroiderer in silk. [illustration: court dancers and musicians, jeypore] the elephants are now trumpeting impatiently for inspection. their compound is a series of roofless walled enclosures, and a visitor notes with grateful appreciation the strength of the chains anchoring the beasts to mother earth. a leviathan is straining at his tether in a mad effort to reach a vagabond who is tantalizing him with a pike, and your guide--one of the official messengers with sword and shield--says: "he no like hindu people; last week he kill two." beasts as docile as kittens take nuts from your hand, and evince disappointment when more are not forthcoming. five magnificent tuskers, that promptly obey their keeper's command, are used by his highness for tiger-hunting; and a bevy of complaisant elephants, quartered in a single stable, have grown old in carrying tourists up the ambir hills, it is explained. from the elephant stables the chaprassis scurry the visitors through fragrant gardens and under bizarre arches to the crocodile department, where a score of saurians are pastured in an enclosure that is half swamp and half lake and is acres in extent. visitors are placed at the top of a staircase of masonry descending to the water, while two wild-eyed hindus seek to rouse the crocodiles from their siesta on a grassy islet a hundred yards away by a series of shrieks that would disgust self-respecting animals and reptiles. in a leisurely manner the crocodiles seem to recognize the signal to mean that a new lot of tourists desire to see them fed. it requires a good quarter of an hour for the indians to lure them to the foot of the staircase, and from the first it is plain that the crocodiles view with indifference your visit to jeypore. the lower step is finally fringed with opened mouths which in a moment engulf a mass of slaughter-house refuse almost thrust down their throats by the wild-eyed showmen, whom you reward with a shower of rupees which they believe marks your appreciation of their efforts. as you are whisked through the palace yard, on the way to the carriage, you espy through an open door a splendid room fitted with paraphernalia not associated with medieval pastimes. it is the maharajah's billiard-room, sumptuously furnished, and filled with tables of the latest english make. probably because they are proud of the fact that a former ruler of jeypore was a generous patron of science, the chaprassis pilot you to the park given over to the apparatus of the celebrated hindu astronomer and mathematician, jai singh. it contains dials, azimuth masonry, altitude pillars, astrolabe, and a double mural quadrant of enormous size and height, on which the gradations have been marked. in a way this exhibit of obsolete paraphernalia refutes the idea that jeypore's maharajahs have lived solely for the gratification of the senses by amusements. a few minutes later you are at the public tiger-cages, where a dozen bona fide "man-eaters" are lazily stretched in shaded corners of their prison cages. thirty odd years ago the present king of england killed his first tiger near jeypore, and the animal ever since has played an important part in the city's pleasures. one inmate of the cages has an authenticated record of ten indians killed, before his highness's retainers lured him into ambush and made him a prisoner. "two days from now," explains one of the men carrying sword and shield, "that tiger there,"--indicating a sullen beast,--"is to fight a wild elephant for the maharajah's entertainment. would the sahibs care to witness the combat?" the visitors promptly regret that they have unbreakable engagements in another part of india. cheetahs are then led forth for admiration. zoos and menageries know them as leopards--in india they are cheetahs, and are trained to course deer and antelope. a huntsman releases a cheetah, whose gaze has been directed to a fleeing deer on the plain, and in a few minutes the deer is a captive. so much for the diversions of jeypore's autocrat. a distinct touch of beauty is imparted to his capital by the peacocks of imperial strut and plumage. they are everywhere--on the crenelated city wall, in the hurly-burly of the streets and bazaars, even on the steps leading to temples and mosques. the peacock is sacred to jeypore; it crowns in miniature the street lamps, and is sculptured in hundreds of places. chattering parrots by the roadside may arrest attention, but are forgotten in a moment--a strutting peacock is beautiful enough to place the parrot family in eclipse. when blue-rock pigeons descend by thousands in the market-place to profit by an over-turned sack of grain, visitors marvel at their irridescent necks and breasts--but a beauteous peacock appearing on the scene attracts an admiration amounting to monopoly. but the appointment with the state elephant--what of that? surely, ambir must be seen. there it was that all the ancient splendor originated and dwelt for centuries, and until a practical maharajah decided that a mountain retreat was ill-suited to the needs of a capital. the possessor of this astute mind moved himself and his machinery of government to the plain below--and all his people followed. this explains why ambir is now deserted, and why a court steeped in medievalism has a setting bristling with newness. every adjunct of a fortified residence is there in the hills. miles of battlemented masonry, pierced every few feet for bowmen, surrounds the straggling mass of buildings. terraces are set upon the mountainside like a gigantic staircase, and fringed with railings of stone so artistically wrought as to suggest the grill-work of the matchless taj mahal. great gray monkeys descend from the mountain slope to feed from the hands of your guides; and they are not of the moth-eaten variety seen in captivity, but are freeborn denizens of the forest, whose coats glisten and whose curly tails are of unusual length. some of the apartments in the old palace rival anything to be seen at lucknow, agra or delhi. a gem of a temple, adjoining a public audience hall of marvelous richness in finish, is dedicated to the awful goddess kali, and each morning a goat is sacrificed to this deity, ever craving blood, by hindu priests attached to the maharajah's court. this is a revolting blot on a series of majestic buildings that unite to make one of india's greatest sights. "how blessed would it be," you meditate, "if the betel-chewing priest might be sacrificed in place of the innocent and helpless animal." but no, human sacrifices are no longer permitted in india; england stopped them years ago. oh, yes; the state elephant. well, it was extremely useful, for it rescued four stalwart native servants, laden with tiffin basket and a dozen bottles of mineral water, from toiling up the hills on foot. perched on his back like nabobs, they probably indulged in remarks disparaging of their masters, electing to walk, and mused maybe upon the theory that now and then man meets his deserts. chapter viii the world's most exquisite building a mogul ruler who did things was shah jahan, and he came of a race not content with ordinary achievements. his grandfather, akbar, was probably the greatest personage ever born in india. he it was "whose saddle was his throne, the canopy of which was the vaulted dome of heaven." akbar made eastern history, made it fast, blazoning it with proud records of conquest and empire extension. akbar was the grandest man who ever ruled central india, and it was he who developed the mogul empire to the loftiest importance it attained. shah jahan embellished the empire with noble structures, and his impulse for building amounted to mania. time annulled akbar's achievements, but those of his grandson stand to-day, and the structures of his era are beautiful enough to attract admirers from every corner of the earth. a famous critic once said that shah jahan built like a giant and finished like a jeweler. his works have made agra, of all cities in india, the place of unrivaled interest. [illustration: the taj mahal, agra] agra's taj mahal is the most exquisite building ever erected by the hands of man, and is a romance as deftly wrought in marble as any writer ever fashioned in words. it marks a great man's love for a woman--arjamand banu begum, his wife. shah jahan was a mohammedan despot who led a magnificent life, and had other wives; but in his eyes the peer of her sex was arjamand. when she died in giving birth to a child, he declared he would rear to her memory a mausoleum so perfect that it would make men marvel for all time. and this he accomplished. more poetry and prose have been written about the taj, with more allusions to it as a symbol of love, than of any other creation marking human affection--and the secret probably lies in the fact that all the world loves a lover. arjamand had many titles of rank and endearment, but poets like sir edwin arnold preferred to speak of her as mumtaz-i-mahal, meaning the "exalted of the palace," when extolling the charms of this splendid niece of nur-mahal, who likewise had been famed for beauty and charity. shah jahan ruled from to , and had been on the throne only two years when death took from him his adored arjamand. then came the resolve to erect to her memory a monument that might measure his love and grief. since akbar's time, the best architects, artists, and skilled workmen of india, persia, and arabia had been attracted to agra and neighboring delhi. all were summoned to shah jahan's court, and the resources of his empire placed at their disposal. the taj, consequently, was not the creation of a single master mind, but the consummation of a great art epoch. its construction was commenced four years after arjamand's demise. the bereft emperor had appointed a council of great architects of india to guide the work. drawings of celebrated structures of the world, especially those in moslem lands, were studied. more than one european was attracted to the mogul court, and it is believed that geronimo verroneo, who had journeyed from italy, laid several plans before shah jahan. there are records at agra showing that certain suggestions of the italian were adopted, but it is common belief that the general design was the recommendation of a turkish or persian architect named ustad isa. in keeping with an old tartar custom, a garden was chosen as the site of the tomb--a garden planted with flowers and fragrant shrubs, emblems of life, and solemn cypresses, emblems of death and eternity. in mogul days such a garden was maintained as a pleasure ground during the owner's lifetime, and used for his interment when dead. "and she who loved her garden, lieth now lapped in a garden. and all this for love!" the laborers came from many parts of the world--the chief masons from northern india and bagdad, the dome builders from asiatic turkey, and the mosaic artists from persia and probably italy. every section of india and central asia was drawn upon for materials. the marble, spotless in purity, was brought from jeypore, miles away, on the backs of elephants and camels or by bullock carts. the red sandstone was contributed by fathpu sikrij, the jasper by the punjab, the crystal and jade by china. the turquoises came from tibet and the red sea, the sapphires and lapis lazuli from ceylon, coral and cornelian from arabia, onyx and amethysts from persia, and the diamonds from bundelkund. it engaged the unceasing labor of , men for seventeen years to complete the taj; and like that other great tomb, the cheops pyramid in egypt, it was reared chiefly by forced labor, unpaid and uncared for, and thereby produced great suffering and mortality. this is the chief blemish attaching to the project that gave to art the mausoleum overlooking the jumna. according to native accounts the cost of the taj was lakhs of rupees having to-day a value of $ , , ; and local tradition affirms that not half this sum was ever paid by the emperor--this is a blot upon the sincerity and strict uprightness of the magnificent grandson of akbar. the taj garden is perhaps a half mile square, and is surrounded by a strikingly beautiful wall of masonry. it is an orderly wilderness of rich vegetations, to be found only in asia, and the deep greens and rich browns of the avenues of foliage unquestionably accentuate the whiteness of the temple of death. as the garden helps the tomb, so the tomb gives expression to the garden. the great gateway of red sandstone, whose roof is adorned by moorish arches and pavilions, is in itself one of india's most perfect buildings. from its summit a perfect view of the taj is had, with the jumna flowing sluggishly beneath its marble platform; and from there the grounds are spread before the visitor in a perfect panorama. the paved avenues, all leading to the magnificent pile, miles of marble acqueducts filled with ornamental fish, playing fountains--all breathe the superlative of art, every fluttering leaf whispers of the east. not by its size is arjamand's tomb commanding, for its dimensions are very moderate. imagine a plinth of flawless marble, feet square, and rising eighteen feet from the ground--that is the foundation of the wondrous structure. the taj is feet square, with dome rising to an extreme height of feet; that is all. at each corner of the plinth stands a tapering minaret rearing its crown feet; "--four tall court ladies tending their princess." [illustration: alabaster screen enclosing arjamand's tomb, taj mahal] no building carries the idea of personality further than the taj, a feminine personality, as it should be, for it contains no suggestion of the rugged grandeur of a tomb for a great man. the taj is the antithesis of akbar's mausoleum, of the parthenon, of napoleon's resting-place, of grant's robust mausoleum on the hudson. a sepulcher fashioned after ordinary architectural canons can only be conventional: the taj is different from all other buildings in the world; it is symbolical of womanly grace and purity--is the jewel, the ideal itself; is india's noble tribute to the grace of indian womanhood, a tribute perhaps to the venus de milo of the east. the grace of the taj, as do the achievements of every form of perfect art, rests in its simplicity. a spectator marvels that so much beauty can come from so little apparent effort. yet nothing is wanting, there is nothing in excess; we cannot alter a single stone and claim that the result would be better. and oriental designers, working for an eastern despot, might easily have struck a jarring note and rendered the taj garish--the wonder is that they did not. the taj consequently is the objective of most travelers making the pilgrimage to india. it is easier to tell what the taj is than to speculate upon the ideals and motives of its builders, and it should be a brave writer who attempts to describe it. kipling, who saw the structure first from the window of a train nearing agra, called it "an opal tinted cloud on the horizon"; and after studying the building at close range he wrote, "let those who scoff at overmuch enthusiasm look at the taj and thenceforward be dumb; ... each must view it for himself with his own eyes, working out his own interpretation of the sight." another great english writer has said, "words are worthless in describing a building which is absolutely faultless." and it taxed the talents of sir edwin arnold, critic and poet, to frame in language an adequate picture of arjamand's death couch. if a man possesses the sentiment of form and proportion, the taj will satisfy him. the stately portal seems to harmonize with the grandeur of an eastern queen; and the aerial dome, higher than its breadth, rests upon its base as if possessing no weight, yet is of solid marble. heroic in treatment are the quotations from the koran framing every doorway and aperture, wrought in inlay or sculptured in relief--and these modify the pearly monotony of the marble. one enters reverently the burial-place of shah jahan's queen, whose cenotaph is of the whitest marble, placed in the precise center of the building, and surrounded by an octagonal screen of alabaster that is pierced and interwoven like lace. every foot of the walls, every column and panel, is elaborately embellished with flowers, leaves, scrolls, and sentences, and these are inlaid in jasper, bloodstone, jade, onyx, and precious stones. arjamand's tomb blossoms with never-fading persian flowers and arabic sentences extolling her character, and is as marvelous in workmanship as if produced by florentine inlayers of the present time. the sarcophagus was originally inclosed by a fence of gold, studded with gems; but this was early replaced by the screen of marble, local history asserts. the supposition is that one austin de bordeaux, a french goldsmith, who had been summoned to agra by shah jahan to construct the celebrated peacock throne, had much to do with the treatment of the taj's interior. the building originally possessed two wonderful silver doors, of his designing, but these were looted by jat invaders in and melted down. it is said that eight years were consumed by the artists intrusted with the making and beautifying of arjamand's cenotaph; and further, that the koran's every line and every word is reproduced by inlay or relief carving on the interior and exterior of the taj. to the left of arjamand's tomb is that of her lord and lover, its location proving that it was placed there obviously from necessity and as an afterthought. it is a span larger than his consort's stone, and occupies nearly all the space allowed by the position of the grilled inclosure--but is a sentimentally fitting intruder upon the general design. it is a curious bit of history that shah jahan, conscious of triumph as the author of the taj, long contemplated constructing a similar shrine on the opposite bank of the jumna, wherein his own body was to be placed. it was to be constructed of dark-colored marble, but otherwise to be a counterpart of arjamand's tomb. the foundations were placed, and the arangements for supplying labor and materials well advanced, when a son of jahan--aurangzeb--who had long plotted for the mogul throne, secured control of the military forces, and overthrew his father's rule. aurangzeb promptly adopted delhi as his capital, leaving his parent to languish as a political prisoner in the palace within the fort of agra. in a suite of very small rooms, and attended by a devoted daughter, the great shah jahan there dreamed away the last seven years of his life--but these apartments overlooked the taj mahal, two miles away, let it be known. the heartbroken jahan outlived his splendid wife by thirty-seven years. in this manner destiny willed that two great personages forever lie side by side in death; and consequently the taj is enriched as a temple of sentiment; but--they do not sleep within the marble caskets the traveler beholds. there is a vault deep underneath the floor, and there, in positions agreeing with the monuments above, are the royal remains enclosed in unornamented masonry. in jahan's plan for a somber reproduction of the taj, a monumental bridge was to span the jumna and link the shrines of emperor and empress. instead of this fair dream, there is now only a flat, sandcovered shore, upon which lazy tortoises range themselves under the warming sun, and long-legged water fowl indulge in peaceful meditation and slumber. [illustration: inlaid work in mausoleum of itimad-ud-daulah, agra] the curious acoustics of the taj are observable to the visitor going often to arjamand's shrine. a harsh voice is echoed harshly back and ceases quickly; but a woman's tones raised gently in song are echoed many times, diversified and amplified in strange combinations of melody. such a voice reverberates from every side, seemingly ascends, and its force finally dies away to silence like the notes of a flying wood-dove in a forest. this gem of agra is worshiped as fervently by hindus as by those of the moslem faith, and indian artists in a few years almost destroy their eyesight trying to portray in miniature upon ivory the architectural perfection and delicacy of this marvel of the world. when invading hordes have swept central india, or alien garrisons been quartered in agra fort, the taj has always suffered mutilation. the mahrattas looted it of everything movable and systematically wrenched precious stones from their places in the design ornamenting the fabric of the interior. after the mutiny came the red-coated soldier, who relieved the tedium of garrison duty by appropriating any attractive piece of inlay overlooked by the mahrattas--these pretty bits made interesting souvenirs of india for sending home to the british isles. for twenty years the british government has been repairing this desecration, under guidance of its viceroys. the great chamber of the taj now seems perfect in its embellishment--but there are no diamonds, no rubies, and no emeralds, as of old. bits of colored glass fill their places. but the taj's exterior is to-day as perfect as it could have been two centuries ago; and the dignity and sovereign chastity of its marble surfaces--spoiled by no misplaced ornamentation, and unsullied by vandal--make of this poetic shrine an offering to love surpassed in beauty by nothing in all the world fashioned or reared by man. nowheres on god's footstool has any queen such a monument, and it is even more beautiful in the silver dress of moonlight than in the golden robes of the midday sun. by day or night alike it makes an impression on the mind that time can never obliterate. shah jahan erected the jami masjid mosque at delhi, and the costly muti masjid mosque in agra fort, as well as the splendid khas mahal, the diwan-i-ain, and the diwan-i-khas, likewise in the fort--but more satisfying art is represented in the taj than in all the other structures of his reign. chapter ix benares, sacred city of the hindus unique among indian cities is benares, and for the hindu the sacred capital on the ganges has a significance similar to that of mecca for the mohammedan, and a greater attracting power than jerusalem has for the christian. benares is the home and shrine of the complex religion that binds the hindu nations, and is the very soul and heart of hinduism. no other place where men congregate can compete with deified benares in the matter of divine merit that may be conferred on the pilgrim entering its gates and threading its narrow and filth-smeared streets. there two hundred thousand people live and fatten upon the half million devotees coming annually to the idolatrous fountainhead. the sacred city attracts this tide of pious humanity from all the tribes and nations of many-peopled india: they journey to benares brimming with love and trustfulness, and after a season spent in her temples, at her shrines, and by her sacred stream, she sends them forth overflowing with merit and zeal, to carry her fame to the outposts of the faith, even to afghanistan and baluchistan, and to the nomadic tribes peopling tibet and other lands beyond the mighty himalayas. [illustration: scene on the ganges, benares] somebody with a gift for nebulous mathematics has stated that more than two hundred thousand gods of the hindu religion are represented at benares. whether the count be valid matters little, for the city is pre-eminent as the special domain of the fundamental god of india's slavish religion, siva, whose ensign--a gilt trident and perforated disk--flashes from the pinnacles of hundreds of temples and palaces. this uncanny city on the ganges is naturally the brahmins' paradise, for these devotees constitute a governing force in the city's control, and from this fountainhead spread their influence throughout the land of hind. these insinuating men of religion line the river bank, and infest the temples, sitting like spiders waiting for their prey. their emissaries are everywhere in india, promoting pilgrimages, or hovering about the entrances to the city to make certain of the arrival of the unwary enthusiast with well lined purse. rich and poor, high caste and low, all come to the sacred city. some travel in state by lordly elephant or camel caravan, others by railway; but none follow a surer avenue to eternal grace than those who plod on foot over the great trunk highway, sweeping diagonally across india, after the manner of kipling's holy man from thibet whose footsteps were watched over by _kim_. the "business" of benares being the bestowal of holiness, the manufacture of brass goods appealing to tourists is incidental in importance and revenue. no other city of its population can have a more insignificant trade measureable by statistics. for three miles the religious section of benares runs along the brow of the plateau overlooking the chocolate-hued stream, and every foot of this distance is curious and interesting. falling below the disgusting temple resorted to by pilgrims from nepal, the hindu region beyond india's frontier and "the snows," is the ghat (a ghat is a large stone stairway descending to the river), where the good hindu gives his dead to the flames, and the muddy inlet from the ganges where this occurs is dedicated to vishnu, "the sleeper on the waters," a name singularly appropriate to a place where the ashes of the dead are consigned to the bosom of "mother ganga." a visitor observes a number of platform-like structures of masonry that are decorated with roughly carved figures of men and women standing hand in hand. upon these, until british rule put a stop to the custom, thousands of fanatical wives underwent suttee and were burned alive with their dead husbands. it is but seldom that a cremation is not in progress at the burning ghat. from the deck of a native boat moored not forty feet away i saw in a single hour eight corpses in varying stages of consumption by fire. the traveler hardened to gruesome spectacles by much journeying in africa and asia experiences but little of the sickening sensation through witnessing a primitive incineration at benares that is caused by a visit to the parsee towers at bombay. the benares operation is sanitary and practical, and something may be said on the side of sentimental appropriateness in having a corpse borne to the riverside by one's relatives and friends, and there consumed by the burning of a pyre constructed by the hands of these. the dramatic entities become apparent to every thoughtful spectator, probably. a clatter of brass cymbals reaches the ear, and a cortege appears at the top of the ghat, while desultory cries of "_rama, nama, satya hai_"--"the name of rama is true"--are heard. the corpse, fastened upon a simple bier of bamboo sticks and carried on the shoulders of four relatives, is swathed in white if a male, or in red if a female. the bearers hasten almost frantically down the decline and clumsily drop their burden in the water, feet foremost, and make certain that the current will have undisturbed play upon the corpse without sweeping it away. the mourners repair to the place where dry wood is sold and enter upon spirited bargaining for fuel sufficient to consume their relative, whose body is being laved and cleansed of spiritual imperfections not a few rods away by the sacred ganges. only six or eight logs are required. the dealer demands three rupees for them--and the grief-stricken hindus offer one. a bargain is finally struck at two rupees, with a stick of sandal-wood for the head of the pyre thrown in. [illustration: benares burning ghat, with corpses being purified in the ganges] the logs are quickly conveyed to the burning-ground, a satisfactory site for the sad office is expeditiously chosen, and the mourners with their own hands construct the pile. now sanctified by mother ganga, the corpse is fetched from the strand and placed on the structure, feet ever directed toward the precious river. the pyre is soon ready for the torch, and here occurs a curious incident, one that illustrates the monopolistic importance of a man wearing only a loin-cloth, who has been taking an indifferent interest in the proceedings from an elevation close by. he is a dom, of a caste so degraded that should he inadvertently touch a corpse it would be contaminated beyond remedy. but immemorial custom requires that the fire be obtained from him, and he may demand payment therefor in keeping with his estimate of the worldly position of the applicants. ordinarily a rupee is sufficient, although for a grandee's cremation a fee of a thousand rupees has sometimes been demanded and paid. the dicker with the dom being concluded, the chief mourner lights a handful of dried reeds at his fire, hurries to the waiting pyre, walks seven times around it, and with the blazing reeds held in the right hand lights the mass at head and foot. the mourners then withdraw to a shaded spot beside a suttee structure, and silently watch the conflagration. in an hour all is over, and the ashes then are strewn far out on the surface of the ganges and are borne from sight by the current. from ten to fifteen corpses are disposed of at the burning-ghat daily, and several cremations are usually simultaneously in process. now and then there is some demonstration of grief, but not often. i saw two men wade to a body in the river, when they pulled away the covering from the face and bathed it with handfuls of water scooped from beloved ganga, and their every movement denoted affection. again, i witnessed a tottering and sobbing old man place with every expression of tenderness a garland of yellow and white flowers about the neck of a corpse swathed in red, and imagined it the last office of love to an idolized daughter. i also observed the bare corpse of a man who an hour before had died of plague brought to the ghat by two public scavengers, and committed to the flames of a few logs much too short, until the slender legs had been doubled beneath the body. no sandal-wood perfumed this pauper's pyre, and no interment in potter's field was ever more perfunctory than his burning. social distinctions are as marked at the benares burning-ghat as in the modern american cemetery. an hour spent on the ganges bank supplies sufficient food to the mind for weeks of serious reflection. one of the greatest spectacles of india is that of pilgrims bathing in the ganges. from several ghats devoted to sacred ablutions numerous wooden piers extend into the worshiped stream, and these teem with pilgrims from every section of hindustan, in every variety of costume, every stage of dress and undress, there to purge themselves of unclean thoughts and wicked deeds, and to wash away bodily impurities. preaching canopies, shrines for rich and powerful rajahs, and stone recesses for those demanding solitary meditation, make of the river front a place literally teeming with humanity. devotees are everywhere. here a pundit is reading the holy law to a half hundred approving hindus; there a stately chieftain from remote kashmir ceaselessly mutters prayers beneath a huge spreading umbrella of thatched straw, hired from a brahmin for an hour; and ten feet away a holy ascetic, naked in the scorching sun, smears his skin with the gray ashes of penitence. below this grotesque medley is the multitude of men, women and children, breast deep in the sanctifying ganges. thousands have come on foot from far-away villages of this boundless land of paganism; and from all goes up a continuous murmur of prayer and adoration, like a moaning wind emerging from a distant forest. eye and ear alike are flooded with an indescribable rush of sensations, and the heart is oppressed with the august meanings which lie behind the awe-inspiring sight. all the hindu-cults are here--the ganges welds them in her holy embrace. but conspicuous above all others is the brahmin priest, attracting annas and rupees in devious ways from enthusiasts dazed by the realization that they have bathed in mother ganga--some want a certificate of purity, others want seals placed on vessels of water to be carried to loved ones suffering from infirmities. the brahmin gives certificate, places seals, and performs other acts enabling him to garner a harvest of silver and gold. now and again a moribund believer, whose friends seek for him something that may be construed as a last blessing, is hurried to the river's edge. it is a sacrament that cannot be delayed many minutes--and the brahmin fortunate enough to be appealed to charges at emergency rates. when business slackens this harpy composes his nearly-naked body on a plank overlapping the river, and executes with studied deliberation a program of purification marvelous in detail. receptacles of brass and silver are brought him, and for an hour or longer he rubs his handsome frame with unguents and perfumes, slowly stripes forehead, biceps and breast with the ash-marks of sanctity, and places a wafer of his caste on his forehead. later he climbs the ghat to his favorite temple, probably content with the emoluments thrust upon him at the water side, or may be he goes to the bazaar to learn the latest gossip of religious and political india. it is in no sense a losing game to be a member of the brahministic ring controlling things in benares, for the flow of coin from the two hundred million hindus is ceaseless. [illustration: benares holy men] a curious sight in benares is the monkey temple, a pretentious and not inartistic structure of carved red sandstone dedicated to kali, the goddess wife of siva. the image of kali within the temple is a black fury of hideous countenance, whose red tongue droops to the waist. she is dripping with blood, and crowned with snakes, while hanging from her neck is a garland of human skulls. kali wants blood, and if not propitiated daily therewith something horrible is expected to happen. every indian town has a temple to this monster; and everywhere throughout what kipling calls "the great, gray, formless india," sacrifices are made each morning to this ogress with insatiable appetite for blood. the entrance to the monkey temple is slime-covered and the air heavy with sickening odors. through a stone doorway the goddess may be seen enshrined, grinning demoniacally. twenty horrible men, harmonizing in appearance to a reader's conception of thugs, gather in the court, to give each batch of visitors the performance that most have come to witness. the frontal region of their heads is shaven smooth, and each loathsome indian drools betel-nut saliva that looks like blood. a goat is led into the enclosure and tied to a stone post, and the evil-looking men form a circle about the helpless animal. one of them holds the rear legs of the beast clear of the ground. a chant issues from the betel-stained mouths, and a human fiend forces through the circle, brandishing a straight-bladed sword, heavy and keen-edged, that has just been blessed before the altar of kali. he is the official executioner. this functionary makes a sign of readiness, swings the blade at arm's length for a moment--and lands a blow on the underside of the animal's throat that severs the head from the body. the gushing blood is directed to the siva emblem close by, the head is borne triumphantly to the feet of kali, and each thug-looking man smears his face with blood taken from the siva symbol, and then dances madly around the carcass. assuming that the spectacle has favorably impressed the visitor, the high executioner begs a donation with which to purchase a goat for a second sacrifice. you decline, probably feeling that you would subscribe bountifully if a priest might be substituted for the helpless beast. on important days in the hindu calendar many goats and sheep are sacrificed, and sometimes buffaloes as well. in time of pestilence or famine it is not unusual to find a child's head deposited in the early morn at kali's feet, it is claimed. the inner court of the monkey temple, like the ceremony of the slaughter, is open to the heavens, and is surrounded by a cloister lined with cell-like niches for solitary meditation and introspection. on the terrace, on every protruding bit of architecture, on every window ledge--wherever foothold may be gained--are monkeys, loathsomely fat, and made more disgusting from years of pampering than are the human freaks on the pavement. great tamarind trees overhanging the temple are alive with monkeys. they drop to the ground, run between your legs, and dash before you at every turning. you are entreated to pay for basins of parched corn thrown to the revolting creatures by your priestly guide, and do so, but are glad when the monkeys show their appreciation from a distance. from three to four hundred of these mangy animals belong to the temple, and are held to be sacred. at benares everything specially nasty or repulsive is protected by the cloak of sanctity. you are glad to get back to your carriage, so thankful that you throw a couple of rupees to the mob of appealing "priests," in your heart possibly wishing that the money might be invested in soap and scrubbing brushes--and in poison for the monkeys. urging the coachman to drive speedily for the open space and pure air of benares cantonments, you wonder as you proceed what place in religion can reasonably be occupied by the revolting customs and beings to be witnessed at the monkey temple, and it is with no regret that you learn from eminent authority that in less than a hundred years every temple and shrine perched on the brink of the plateau crowning the ganges will be undermined and its descent not arrested until the structure reaches the river's bed. those responsible for locating benares on the outer periphery of a great bend in the ganges proved themselves to possess no engineering foresight. but india's controlling religion can receive no setback by the destruction of a few score tawdry buildings consecrated to its gods, for they will be replaced by better shrines and temples, rising from places beyond even the iconoclasm of the sacred ganges. investigation reveals sufficient merit in the religio-philosophies of mohammedanism and buddhism to explain their adoption by teeming millions. each faith offers admirable precepts and teachings, and prolonged study of them produces a feeling of respect for all true believers. but a season of travel in india, entered upon with the desire to dispassionately study the hindu religion in the land of its overweening strength, produces only bewilderment and mental nausea. the more determined one may be to lay bare the gems of this faith and its administration by the brahmins, the keener will be his disappointment, for not a redeeming feature will he find, and he may quit india smarting with regret over wasted time. to such an investigator hinduism must forever be remembered as paganism steeped in idolatry. more, its gruesome sacrifices will provoke only disgust, perhaps equaled by that called forth by the unspeakably coarse temple carvings and ornamentation of the cars of juggernaut. i have been acquainted with indian gentlemen proud to be known as hindus, and have been amazed to hear them avow devotion to the hideous idolatry that absorbs a great part of the time of two hundred million people in india alone. if the strong arm of england were not raised over the great empire of the east the suttee rite and child sacrifice would unquestionably prevail to-day. to a westerner hinduism seems the greatest abomination of the earth. [illustration: a brahmin priest] chapter x india's modern capital kipling, who has gracefully lured roamers to india by saying, "it is good for every man to see some little of the great indian empire and the strange folk who move about it," obligingly prepares those entering by the gateway of calcutta for an olfactory affront. the stenches of calcutta are numerous and pervading, surely; but the tourist who has crawled up the bay of bengal in a caravel of the peninsular & oriental company cheerfully accepts them. the "p. & o." line is one of britain's venerated institutions; consequently english people would as soon commit a felony as criticize this antiquated concern. in these times ten-knot passenger steamers are hard to find outside the calcutta service of the "p. & o." company and in marine junk yards. as a great commercial port, calcutta is unfortunately located. it is on the hooghly river, one of the outlets of the sacred ganges, and ninety miles from its mouth. the hooghly is a tortuous stream of mud that can be navigated by large vessels only by daylight and with favoring conditions of tide, for its channel is seldom two days alike. this demands expert piloting, and explains why hooghly pilots are selected with great caution. a hooghly pilot is the very maximum of a nautical swell, and one's boarding of a ship attended by man-servant and a mass of belongings partakes somewhat of the character of a function. this calcutta pilot is a fine fellow--well-bred, educated, and entitled to the splendid compensation and social position which he enjoys. since the days of the east india company, the forerunner of british rule in india, the pilots of the hooghly have been esteemed as personages and they have taken rank but slightly lower than officers of the navy, and much ahead of ordinary commercial people and mariners. when off duty in calcutta the pilot goes to his club and drives on the maidan with other anglo-indians of quality, and never is seen about hotel bars and cafés like the ruck of seafaring men having a spare day on shore. [illustration: a calcutta nautch dancer] the hooghly is charted practically every twenty-four hours, and on his way upstream the pilot gets his information pertaining to depths and bars by signals from stations on shore. the river presents nothing of interest to the traveler until a point twenty miles from calcutta is reached; thereafter it is a stream of many attractions. fortifications with visible native troops and an occasional red-coated english soldier occur frequently; then come scores of enormous cotton and jute mills, attended by strange-looking stern-wheel steamboats, most of them with huge cargo barges on either side. at last calcutta is in sight. tall factory chimneys and domed public buildings pronounce it a city of size and importance. the last two miles of the journey are made through a flotilla of shipping, a bewildering medley of sailing vessels and steamers, flying the flags of all the maritime nations of the earth--all but the stars and stripes of uncle sam. bombay, on the other side of india, and immediately on the sea, would make a better capital than calcutta. but the malodorous city of the hooghly will probably ever be the seat of britain's rule. while the names of warren hastings and clive dominate the printed page dealing with modern india, calcutta fairly throbs with recollections of job charnock, the audacious englishman who raised the red flag of britain just two hundred and seventeen years ago over a collection of mud hovels and straw huts on the site of what to-day is the capital of the indian empire. charnock, perhaps the founder of england's rule in the east, was the agent of the old east indian company. having been granted permission by the mogul rulers to establish a post on the hooghly convenient for trading purposes, he chose a spot having the advantage of a generous shade tree. the spot and neighborhood now is calcutta, the chief city of india, with over a million inhabitants. a hindu village in the vicinity of the place where charnock established his trading post was called khali-ghat--these words, corrupted by use, have come to mean "calcutta." the quaint pioneer obviously had no realization of the part he was playing in empire-making, and great britain has never made adequate acknowledgment of the gratitude clearly this man's due. calcutta residents delight to recount charnock's exploits, and they take visitors to st. john's churchyard to view the substantial monument beneath which rest his bones. the inscription states that he died january , . a single story proves charnock's independence of character. he went with his ordinary guard of soldiers to witness the burning of the body of a hindu grandee, whose wife was reputed more than passing fair. it was known that the rite of the suttee was to be performed--the widow was to sacrifice herself upon the blazing pyre of the deceased, in keeping with hindu custom. charnock was so impressed by the young widow's charms that he ordered his soldiers to rescue her and by force take her to his home. they were speedily married, had several children and lived happily for many years. instead of converting her to christianity, she made him a proselyte to paganism, and the only shred of christianity thereafter remarkable in him was the burying of her decently when she was removed by death; but charnock is said to have observed in true pagan manner each anniversary of her demise, even to making animal sacrifices before the image of the goddess khali. [illustration: general post-office, calcutta] calcutta has improved greatly since kipling wrote of it as the "city of dreadful night"; but it is yet a place of striking contrasts, of official splendor and native squalor, of garish palaces abutting in rear allies upon filthy hovels. the good is extremely good--that is for the british official; the bad is worse than awful--and that is for the native. viewed superficially, calcutta looks like a prosperous city in europe, perhaps in england; but rear streets and suburbs are as filthy and congested as any town in vast india. what the average tourist beholds is spick and span in a modern sense; and what he doesn't see is intensely asiatic, with all that the word can mean. being a city of extremes, the visitor may be brought to his front windows by the warning cries of the footmen of a sojourning maharajah driving in state to a function, while through the rear windows float the plaintive notes of the muezzin calling the faithful to prayers from the minaret of a mohammedan mosque close by. the indian metropolis presents an array of fine homes, bungalows and stucco villas, put up when the rupee was worth two shillings and a penny, wherein unhappiness may now dwell, because the rupee has depreciated to a shilling and fourpence. the parade of fashion on the maidan late in the afternoon presents every variety of equipage and livery known to the east, the horse-flesh of calcutta is uniformly fine. better animals than are daily grouped around the band stand, or along the rail of the race-course, cannot be found short of europe. the viceroy is often seen driving a mail phaeton, preceded by two native lancers and followed by four others. the automobile has many devotees in calcutta, and bicycle-riding natives are everywhere. the babu is exceedingly fond of wheeling on the maidan whenever he can escape from his account books. nearly every carriage on the maidan in the afternoon has two men on the box and two footmen behind, all gorgeously dressed--servants are cheap in india. at sundown nowadays half the pianos in chowringee--where calcutta's officials and prosperous commercial people reside--seem to be playing airs from american light operas, and not infrequently a regimental band compliments the united states by playing "hiawatha" or one of sousa's compositions. it is compensating to a person burdened with the habit of wondering where words come from, to discover that dum-dum is a suburb of calcutta, and is important as a military post and as the seat of an ammunition factory and arsenal. [illustration: shipping on the hooghly, calcutta] the sights of calcutta are unimportant. the general post-office occupies the site of the native prison whose horrors of the black hole stain chapters of indian history; and a description of the burning of human bodies on the bank of the hooghly, and of the animal sacrifices at the old hindu temple at khali-ghat, would be disagreeably gruesome. the gaudy jain temple interests for a few minutes, and the exterior of fort william impresses the casual spectator. the zoölogical garden is conventional, and the feature of the botanical garden is probably the largest banyan tree in the world. calcutta hotels, deplorably poor, have been fitly described as of two kinds--bad and adjectively bad. all that interests the visitor within the modern capital of ancient india is the movement of official and social life, and the parade of races forming the population of the marvelous, mysterious country. there, across the esplanade, with imposing gates and approaches, is government house, winter seat of the viceroy of india--whose most distinguished incumbent in recent years was his excellency the right honorable the baron curzon of kedleston, p. c., g. m. s. i., g. m. i. e., etc., etc. few traveling americans had the time to speak of him in a manner honoring all these designations. visitors from chicago used to refer to him, it was claimed, with naïve simplicity as "mary leiter's husband," and let it go at that. a person of extraordinary ability was this husband of an american queen, and it is generally believed that he may some day be prime minister of england. the viceroyship is the highest appointive office in the world. its compensation is the equivalent of $ , per annum, but the allowances for entertaining european functionaries, an army of native servants, and a stableful of horses and elephants for state ceremonials, swells the amount two or threefold. both at government house in calcutta and at the summer home in simla the viceroy is surrounded by a court equalled in splendor by few royalties in europe. compared with the increment and disbursements of india's viceroy, those of the president of the united states appear insignificant. but oriental show and parade are expensive, so expensive in fact, that a viceroy is forced to make liberal drafts upon his private purse. india may have had as capable rulers in the past as lord curzon, but rarely one more tactful or courageous, and never one having the assistance of a vicereine possessing the charm and lovable qualities of the late lady curzon. her splendid work in behalf of the natives, especially the women, endeared her to all indians. the delhi durbar in honored edward vii in a degree unsurpassed, but was a greater personal triumph for viceroy curzon and his accomplished consort from chicago. his administration had many perplexing situations to deal with and one of them forced his resignation. the constant nightmare of a viceroy of india is famine, and twice lord curzon had to deal with this--one visitation alone cost the indian government fifty million pounds sterling. his understanding of frontier technicalities, and the ways and wiles of native rulers--none too loyal to british rule, assisted mightily in the successful administration of his high office. under the curzons' régime government house balls and garden parties were counted the most brilliant occurring in the east. a mighty personage in present-day calcutta is general viscount kitchener, commander-in-chief of the indian army. in egypt he reformed the nature of the nile peasant to the extent of making good fighters of the sons of the cravens of tel-el-kebir; good enough, when led by british officers, to annihilate the army of the khalifa; and in south africa kitchener wound up with success a war that had been horribly bungled by others. military critics had long been aware that the army of india was antiquated, honeycombed with dry-rot, and largely ruled by favorites sitting in high places at whitehall. consequently, kitchener was sent to india with instructions conferring almost plenary power to reorganize the forces, british as well as native. he prefers work to participating in the social game. in england there is a growing desire that finds expression frequently in the newspapers for kitchener's translation from calcutta to the war office in london, from whence the british army as a whole might profit by the trenchant efforts of the irish soldier who has seldom blundered. as commander in india lord kitchener is paid a lakh of rupees a year--$ , , and heads an army of , men-- , british and , native troops. the lieutenant-governor of bengal, always spoken of as the "l. g." resides in calcutta and works in close relationship with the viceroy. this british functionary administers the affairs of a territory but one twentieth the area of the united states, but which possesses , , people. and what is this india, governed by great britain through its delegated officials? it is a country greater than all europe, omitting russia, and fully half as large as the united states. its population numbers , , , and is the most heterogeneous of any land in the world--were there homogeneity, or anything approaching it, a mere handful of britons could not hope to control a fifth part of the people of the earth. india is made up of a multiplicity of races and tribes, professing every religion of paganism; and these are separated by thousands upon thousands of castes each going its own distinct and peculiar way. great britain's control of these teeming millions is unique in the history of oversea rule. india is almost exclusively agricultural, and in sections of bengal averages people to the square mile. at the beginning of the government had brought , , acres of waste land under cultivation by irrigation upon an expenditure of $ , , . india now has cotton mills, which employ a capital of $ , , , and last year's jute product of bengal alone was valued at $ , , . the indian empire is ponderous and complex from any point of view. possessing but half the area of the united states, it represents one seventh of the british empire, and more than seven times the combined population of great britain and ireland. it should not be assumed that the whole of india is under british rule, for practically a third of the country is still governed by independent native princes. with almost four times the population of the united states, india supports less than , miles of railway, as against , miles in the great republic--and this difference makes the contrast between asiatic conservatism and new world progress. [illustration: calcutta coolies] the person demanding physical statistics gets enough pabulum in a day's search to keep the machinery of the mind going for months, and must be amazed when learning that there are seven hundred and twenty-one distinct languages and dialects spoken in india; that the population has trebled with the british occupation; that for every insane person in india there are thirteen in europe,--the words "placid east" purveying the explanation. taking the country by and large it is claimed that only one male in ten and only one female out of a hundred and forty-four, can read and write; and it is said by british residents in the land that the native knows no such thing as scholarship--he learns everything by rote, even to the extent of perfect recitation, without comprehending the meaning of the wards he is uttering. it is the nature of illiterate hindus to resort to the extremest extravagance in nearly every statement, and it is not uncommon for report to have it that an englishman has spoken abusively of a hundred thousand good hindus, when that individual has merely intimated to a native servant that he would like his morning meal served with more punctuality. the illiterate hindu, it is interesting to know, believes that the human soul passes through eight million reincarnations. when this child of the east deals with numbers his tongue runs into meaningless extravagance, and there appears to be no communion between his intellect and speech. while marriage is universal in india, if not obligatory, the custom forbidding the remarriage of widows works an injustice to the sex amounting to national disgrace. a hindu maiden who at twelve or thirteen is unmarried brings social obloquy on her family and entails retrospective damnation on three generations of ancestors. a hindu man must marry and beget children to make certain of his funeral rites, lest his spirit wander uneasily in the waste places of the earth or be precipitated into the temporary hell called _put_. the last available census discloses the astonishing fact that there are twenty-six million widows in india, meaning that out of every hundred women at least fourteen have been bereft of their husbands, and consequently are no better than human derelicts upon the earth. it is a teaching of the abominable hindu faith that the bridegroom cometh but once. a pundit of the belief will argue that the practical reason for prohibiting remarriage is to prevent the crowding of the marriage market--and this is the only "reason" that can be extracted from one claiming to speak with knowledge on the unfortunate subject. the enlightened gaekwar of baroda, devoting influence and fortune to the moral uplifting of the people of his land, pronounces the custom forbidding the remarriage of widows to be a national curse exceeded only by that compassed by the word "caste." a statistical paper on india issued recently by the british government shows that there were killed in that country last year by snakes and wild beasts , persons-- , by snake bites, by tigers, by leopards, and the rest by other animals. the number of cattle destroyed by snakes and wild beasts was , . the other side of the account shows that , snakes and , wild animals were killed, for which rewards aggregating $ , were paid. chapter xi island links in britain's chain of empire if one be a sufferer from anglophobia, a tour of the globe by conventional paths may produce rather more irritation than is good for man--to such a traveler the british empire is a chronic nightmare, for the red flag is everywhere. every harbor seems choked with english shipping, if not guarded by a british warship; and tommy atkins is the first man met ashore. if your prejudice against great britain be unjustly conceived, you will probably revise your judgment before the earth is half circled; at least you must confess that britain is great from the standpoint of area. a globe-trotter who has had "britannia rules the wave" ringing in his ears from gibraltar to ceylon, connects again with the "thin red line" the moment his ship emerges from the bay of bengal. penang then is the link in the interminable chain of colonies upon which the sun never sets. "well, this is but an island, and a small one at that; consequently i won't let it worry me," soliloquizes the anglophobe. penang is doubly remarkable. firstly, the tourist is there made to understand that he has finished with that great division of the earth known as "the east," and is at the portal of the far east, the realm wherein the chinaman, malay and japanese teem in uncounted millions. besides, penang is the premier tin port of the universe. seven tenths of this metal used by the world starts for market from penang and its neighboring ports in the malacca straits. "rule britannia" is played next at singapore, likewise an island, and, as is penang, a place almost wholly given over to chinese and their shops. few coastal towns in china possess a greater percentage of celestials than england's city at the tip end of the malay peninsula and abutting on the equator. sir stamford raffles placed englishmen--and chinamen--under everlasting obligation when he brought singapore into being. raffles possessed the empire-building instinct, surely, and earned the honor of interment in westminster abbey. singapore harbor commands one of the greatest natural turnstiles of commerce. shipping has no other option than to use it. while englishmen have administered the port and city since raffles's time, thousands of chinamen have there waxed extremely fat. the 'rickshaw coolie of singapore, even, is physically perfect, and consequently in agreeable contrast to the indian of calfless legs, and his cingalese colleague of weak lungs. the chinese 'rickshawman whisks a visitor about singapore with the stride of a race-horse. for a city only a degree north of the equator, singapore offers creature comforts in sufficient number to make human existence there extremely attractive. [illustration: hong kong harbor] nabobs and well-conditioned humanity of polynesia esteem singapore much as europeans and americans regard paris--an estimable place of consort, and scores of these men there lead a life not based on the simple ideas of charles wagner. island sultans are usually as numerous in singapore as princes in cairo; and european adepts in equatorial government find frequent need of repairing to the gay metropolis of the straits. an interesting potentate frequently seen is rajah brooke, a cultivated englishman who is philanthropic despot over a slice of borneo twice the area of england and wales. sarawak, his country, has been called the best governed tropical land in the world. another english celebrity affecting singapore is governor gueritz, administrator of the north borneo company, destined, maybe, to become as profitable as the east india company of old. the sultan of sulu (not the hero of george ade's comic opera) enjoys a sojourn in singapore. he is young, wears the garb of a mohammedan who has been to mecca, and is not displeased by the stare of tourists. the sultan of johore, in the hands of money-lenders through unfortunate turf ventures, spends as much time in the city as in his malay sultanate. a prince of the siamese king's ministry, in singapore to bestow orders for bridges and river steamers, goes nightly to witness a feeble production of "the girl from kays," and whistles "sammy" as he promenades hotel verandas. down at the quays great steamships are fed with coal by chinese coolies who toil silently and expeditiously. a chinese swell is on the pier superintending the lading of queer-looking cases containing birds' nests, consigned to epicures in hong kong and canton. the chinaman's greatest dainty is soup made from glutinous birds' nests found in borneo caves. a single case of moderate dimensions contains nests to the value of twelve hundred mexican dollars--at least, it is insured for that amount. great britain's next station in the far east is hong kong, likewise an island, and one that might claim the long distance championship as a rain-center. next to hills, the characterizing feature of hong kong is moisture--represented either by rain or humidity. the briton professes that the climate of this crown colony is good; but for months at a stretch his clothing has to be hung daily in the open air to keep it from becoming water-logged, and everything of leather has to be denuded each morning of green mold. at the hotels one's apparel is kept in a drying-room, and issued costume at a time for use. the globe-trotter reaching hong kong in march risks irreparable injury to his temper, unless he prefers dripping clouds and wet feet to warmth and sunshine. out of a fortnight there may be a day when the elements will be accommodating enough to allow the glories of the harbor to be seen from the peak, and two pleasant days in the fortnight would be remarkable. official figures show that the average march has but twenty-nine and a fraction hours of sunshine. complain of the rains and the patriotic resident will probably remark: "rains! these are not rains--they only begin in june." your book of local information corroborates the resident's statement, for you may read that march ordinarily has a rainfall of but three and a half inches, while june shows twenty, and august twenty-eight. on the th of august in the downpour registered eleven and one-quarter inches--this almost turned hong kong into an eastern venice. november, december, january and february are the pleasant months, statistically, in hong kong. [illustration: hong kong's mountainside] the briton has displayed his sturdiness of character by forcing a home in hong kong, for nature fashioned the north shore of this island to be an abiding-place for birds and animals. adventurers from the british isles have won a plateau from the sea by piling and filling in, and by executing engineering feats that have converted a precipitous mountain side to blossom with villa sites and roads and foot-paths leading to them. a railway scaling the mountain height at a topsy-turvy angle did the rest. hong kong is a splendid example of what determined men possessed of the colonizing spirit may accomplish. the founders of venice did no more in the lagoons of the adriatic. a man responsible for much of hong kong's filling in and excavation is sir paul chator, a british subject of armenian birth, gifted to an unusual degree with foresight. he has done more for the colony than any other person--and hong kong has made him a millionaire. the legal name of the city is victoria, but this fact apparently is known only to the postmaster and at government house. were a visitor to speak of victoria, the dweller would believe that something back in england, or in australia, was meant. when china ceded the rocky isle of hong kong to great britain in it was the haunt of fisherfolk and pirates prosecuting their callings in the estuary of the canton river. the acquisition of hong kong was due to the refusal of the chinese to allow british traders to live peaceably at canton. driven out of the city, they took temporary refuge in the portuguese settlement of macao; but, being pursued by chinese hostility, the official trade superintendent transferred the english depot to hong kong, which was forthwith occupied by a british expeditionary force, and, at the end of the opium war, finally ceded to great britain by the treaty of nankin. the name "hong kong" is variously interpreted, but the generally accepted meaning is "fragrant streams." just as singapore guards the south entrance into the china sea, so does hong kong, fifteen hundred miles away, guard the north. on the south the entrance is through the straits of malacca, on the north through the straits of formosa. had great britain, according to the usual custom of war, retained possession of manila, which she had conquered in , instead of giving it back to spain at the end of the seven years' war, her hold of the china sea would have been as firm to-day as is her hold of the mediterranean. as the situation now stands, the acquisition of the philippine islands gives uncle sam a fortified naval base on the flank of the british line of communications between singapore and hong kong. based on manila, and given the possession of sufficient naval force, an american admiral can strike right or left, compelling his opponents to fight where it best suits his own purposes. england and america are fortunate in being on terms of complete international amity, but none the less has the conquest of the philippines by the united states profoundly modified the strategical conditions as they existed in the pacific when the islands belonged to a weak naval power like spain. hong kong's population and traffic double every ten years, and no harbor has a greater tonnage. were hong kong a port of origin, instead of a port of call, its commercial importance would be greater than that of london. a few years ago the british government induced china to lease a slice of the mainland of goodly dimensions, to accommodate hong kong's swelling trade. there, a mile and a half across the harbor, to-day stand miles of modern docks and warehouses, and shipyards and engine-building works, that would do credit to tyne or clyde. this addition to hong kong is called kowloon, and it has residential districts that range well into the hinterland. hong kong's streets are among the most interesting in the great east, for they strike the key of true cosmopolitanism. along them 'rickshaws pass in endless procession, electric cars roar, and sedan-chairs swing. the chair borne by four bearers provides the acme of transportation in fine weather. eighty per cent, of hong kong's people are chinese, and to this multitude the human contributions of europe and america form necessarily a thin relief. extremely picturesque are the compradore and taipan in costumes of the richest of silks, more so than is the poor coolie in dirty short trousers and jacket, pigtail coiled for convenience about the head, whose face is none too familiar with soap and water. in and out of the ever-moving multitude glide the tall, bright-eyed sons of india, the sikhs, who are everywhere in the east. soldiers in regimentals; jack tars of many nations; policemen, white, yellow, and black, are included in the picture. here is the somber britisher with confident stride and air of proprietorship, there the unromantic german slowly but surely capturing oriental trade. frenchmen and scandinavians rub shoulders along the queen's road with the matter of fact american and the dark man from italy; whilst now and then a peculiar gait or unusual costume distinguishes a south american or a son of the philippines. here, in short, within this congested square mile of the european quarter are daily to be picked representatives of the world's nations. a study of the crowd is an education in itself. the splendid buildings speak of commercial prosperity--banks, shops, offices and clubs. nearly every structure is the seat of prosperous commercial ventures in hong kong and china proper; and tiers of water-front warehouses locally called "godowns," are filled with foodstuffs and manufactures that in time will be distributed through every town of importance in the flowery kingdom. hong kong boasts that her docks can accommodate the largest ships afloat (a fact until the _minnesota_ and _dakota_, loaded with american flour, vainly sought wharfage), and that she possesses the largest sugar refinery in the world. but these circumstances are subordinate to the british government's real interest in hong kong--to make it the base of naval power in asia, with dockyards and repair-shops equal to any demand, and with coal-bins stacked with the prerequisite to sea-power. [illustration: a former "his excellency the governor" of hong kong] the horse is included in no grouping in hong kong, where coolie takes its place as bearer of burdens and hauler of vehicles. the sights of the place are so strange and interesting that a traveler is sometimes there for days before the fact dawns upon his vision that it is a city innocent of horse-flesh. true, there are the runners and polo ponies at happy valley race-course. wherever the briton plants his abiding-place, there the horse and dog are brought--but in hong kong the former requires a deal of attention, for it is only used in making a briton's holiday. the race-course is set in an intervale, and has cemeteries overlooking grand-stand and entrances. a transplanted sportsman whose every effort to name a winning steed at a happy valley meeting has failed signally, finds superabundance of food for introspection as he runs the gauntlet of cemetery portals on the way back to the city, and very likely indulges in mental speculation as to the purpose in giving the name of happy valley to a race-track whose betting ring is overshadowed by burial grounds. the "chit" as a moral pitfall is more potent in hong kong than in india or other eastern lands possessing a sprinkling of europeans. a newcomer's ears hear little but "chit." every sentence uttered by friends, every proposal of obsequious native merchant, is freighted with the little word. you decide at last to cast off your ignorance and be of the elect--to know what chit means and if possible become a chitter. very disappointed are you when told that chit is simply asian for memorandum, in popular phrase, an "i. o. u.," hurriedly penciled and given in lieu of cash. its purpose? merely to pander to the european's convenience; to differentiate the white man from brown or yellow, by placing him on the unassailable pedestal of a person of honor. "this chit idea is great," says the newcomer. "i don't load my pockets down with money any more. when i buy a cigar or drink i give a chit, and that's all there is to it. these eastern people are away ahead of us in more ways than one." and he hourly signs innocent memoranda, because of the convenience. at hotel and club a chit brings what he wants, it sends a basket of flowers to a charming woman, produces suits of clothing that he doesn't need, even pays 'rickshaw and chair coolies. but alas; pay-day comes at the end of the month! and scheme as he may, the newcomer cannot solve the fiscal problem of making a hundred dollars settle three hundred dollars of debts. he then comprehends that the insidious chit is loaded; is pregnant with the disgrace germ, if he cannot raise the wherewithal to redeem the sheafs of them reposing in a dozen tills--so many notes going to protest with every tick of the clock. "i'll write home for funds," he decides; "but how am i to live while awaiting the remittance?" by giving more chits, only. he does this with a bold front for another month or so, and is doubly insolvent when the remittance finally comes to hand. then he gives still more chits, and awaits another money supply. hong kong is filled with unfortunate "remittance men," good fellows at heart, whose downfall dates from their introduction to the chit. a visitor can read no announcement more pathetic than that conspicuously displayed in the waiting-rooms of the kowloon ferry, saying "positively no chits received"--and this ruthless pronouncement in connection with a trip costing but the equivalent of three american cents! there is commendable practicability in the method employed by large hotels in the east for placing patrons in a position to connect with dishes on the bill of fare appealing to their appetites. in hong kong hotels, where young chinamen knowing practically no english are employed as waiters, and where elaborate lists of dishes are the order, the plan is indispensable. it is this: every dish is indicated on the margin of the card by a number, and instead of saying to the waiter, "bring me some roast beef, mashed potatoes and a cup of tea," you give the numbers of these several articles, or point to them,--and they are fetched. it is easy enough to get a second helping, but if you desire your meat rare, or well done, or your eggs fried on both sides, then you have good cause for cursing the confounding of tongues at the tower of babel. a hong kong hotel is not a place for a person predisposed to irritability. for keen realization of the far east, hong kong, with its streets of chinese shops, and water front massed with sampans, affords a full and most satisfying opportunity. chapter xii canton, unique city of china it is a steamboat journey of but ninety miles up the estuary of the pearl river from hong kong to wonderful canton, and a traveler in asia who fails to see the city that is the commercial capital of china misses something that he may think and talk of the remainder of his life. historians profess to trace the origin of canton to a period antedating the christian era, when, it is somewhere recorded, the thirty-fourth sovereign of the chan dynasty, by name nan wong, who ruled for nearly sixty years, was on the chinese throne. in those days the city bore the name of nan-woo-ching, meaning "the martial city of the south," and was encircled by a stockade formed of bamboos and river mud, tradition has it. tradition additionally tells us that in the shadowy past canton used to be known as the "city of the rams," inasmuch as once upon a time five genii, each mounted on a ram carrying ears of grain in the mouth, rode into the market-place and said to the wondering people, "may famine and dearth never visit your city." this benevolent sentiment uttered, the genii are said to have instantly vanished, leaving their steeds in the market-place, and forthwith these were turned into stone. there is to-day a temple of the five genii, where five clumsily sculptured rams are pointed out as the identical animals that once were flesh and blood. passing over twenty centuries we find the metropolis of the present time, with its two million people, the most satisfying, fascinating, and puzzling city in the orient, if not in the whole world. canton with its agglomeration of a primitive existence, is surely distinct and different from any other city. its dazzling color effect, its pile of massive gilding in grotesque ornamentation, its wonderful sign-boards in bewildering hieroglyphics, and its host of odd-looking humanity--all is at variance with anything the traveler has before seen. to successfully view canton requires some urbanity, a wealth of patience, and a stomach not readily overthrown by gruesome and unusual sights. and, further, the visitor must never forget that his vision is looking back from one to two thousand years, and that the hordes of human beings congesting the labyrinth of streets not seven feet wide, speak of a great nation as it was, which to-day is the oldest living nation on earth. you, of the fast-marching west, are viewing at its fountainhead a race for which the word "conservative" was most likely first called into use. it was the great li hung chang who stingingly rebuked some patronizing englishmen who were urging the astute old statesman to advocate certain social reforms in china, by saying: "why, we chinese look upon england merely as an interesting experiment in civilization, wondering where you'll be five hundred years hence." the only impress that europe and christianity have visibly made upon canton is the french cathedral of the twin spires that you see near the place where your steamer lands. in all canton there is not a wheeled vehicle, street-car, hotel, or mouthful of food appealing to the convenience or appetite of the visitor from the west; and apart from your own coterie of sight-seers, you may for days be about the streets of the vast city without seeing a person wearing the habiliments of europe. that section of canton known as shameen, in reality an island suburb, is set apart under concessions to the united states and certain european powers, and the consuls, missionaries and foreign merchants there dwell surrounded by many of the comforts of home. [illustration: temple of the five hundred genii, canton] few venture upon leaving hong kong for canton until satisfying reports are received assuring that no immediate outbreak is apprehended of the known cantonese hatred for foreigners, nor until a vast amount of letter-writing and telegraphing for guide and chair-bearers has been gone through with, and the steamboat company has placed the craft of their line at your command, to be used as hotels, restaurants, and otherwise as bases of supplies. confident that you would be met at the landing by the guide of whom you had reassuring reports, and with whom you believed you had been in correspondence, a gorgeously-clad, good-looking fellow greets you at your state-room door on the boat before your ablutions have been completed, and tells you politely but firmly that he is to be your guide. his card says he is "ah cum john," which is not that of the guide you had expected to meet you, and you meekly remonstrate, until the potentate tells you through the half-opened door that you will see canton under his auspices or not at all. "why?" "because i am proprietor of all the sedan-chairs worth riding in, and employ every good coolie; and, besides, ah cum, my father, showed canton to rudyard kipling twenty-five years ago. i'm the third son of ah cum, and my family does all the guiding that is done in canton--nobody else speaks any english." whatever your degree of objection to monopolies, a single reason enumerated by the autocrat seeking to enter your employ is sufficient to swing you into a feeble acquiescence, for, to tell the truth, you are not impressed favorably by the mob of jostling, shoving yellow humanity on shore, naked to the waist, who seem to be accentuating with menacing gestures their demands upon your patronage. you wonder how long a white man can be on shore without having his throat cut, and reason that if ah cum john can bully a sovereign-born american into accepting him as guide, when you had wanted somebody else, why is he not the very man to control the passions of a fanatical chinese mob? his administrative ability impresses by the manner in which he directs affairs from the instant his control is confessed by your party of seven native americans, and after breakfast this born leader sets forth at the head of the timid pleiad longing to explore the great human warren of china--the thugs of the river bank are now your bearers and devoted subjects, four to a chair, and countless assistants and relatives trail at the end of the procession. the cavalcade attracts good-natured attention from shopkeepers drawn to the fronts of their stalls by the yelping of forty lusty mongol throats, commanding all and sundry wayfarers to allow honorable visitors to pass. so narrow are the filth-smeared streets that a sight-seer might help himself at will from shops on either side of the way. hundreds of messes stewing over braziers in the thoroughfare have to be moved, and now and then the bearers of a native dignitary slide into a conveniently wide place that the procession of "foreign devils" may not be inconvenienced. but a mandarin, in his palanquin and preceded by an orderly mounted on a short-legged pony, and guarded front and rear by forty wicked-looking soldiers armed with carbines, has precedence so instantly accorded him that the clients of ah cum's third son are almost precipitated sideways into a row of shops. the mighty official passes without so much as casting a glance of compliment at the women of the party, thereby making it evident that canton mandarins have a code of deportment peculiarly their own. the products of every section of asia are said canton, unique city of china to be heaped high in the warehouses of this great mart of southern china; but the tourist sees naught of these. what he views from his sedan-chair is thousands of shops but little larger than catacomb cells, wherein everything from straw sandals for street coolies to jade bracelets for the richly endowed is offered for sale. preserved from theft and fire in canton's godowns and pawnshops are stored enough fabrics of silk, art-embroideries, and carvings in ivory and teakwood, to cause a person of average taste to lose his mind, could they be paraded for his benefit; and a collector would find it difficult to preserve solvency, were the treasures of the shabby-looking warehouses proffered for sale. unusually repugnant are the stalls where food is vended, for their wares are prepared in a manner making it easy for the visitor to forget that he ever possessed an appetite. a hundred times as you are borne through canton's streets your chair escapes by only a few feet or inches rows of cooked ducks and pigs that seem to have been finally varnished to make them appeal to the native epicure. here and there you observe strange hunks of meat held together by a wisp of straw that your guide tells you with immobile countenance are rat hams, and in sundry shops your ready eye thereafter detects tiny dried carcasses that can only be rats. let it be said in fairness to the sights of canton that the display of vegetables is attractive enough to turn your thoughts to the dietary benefits of vegetarianism. you early perceive that ah cum john is many kinds of a "boss" by the way he takes command of the shops at which he deigns to halt his caravan. all are charmed with the jewelry fabricated by the workers in kingfishers' feathers, and make liberal selections. but you are not permitted to pay the merchant with whom you have made a bargain, for john says, "you pay him nothing, you pay me to-night for everything"--and the purchases are carried away in his sumptuous palanquin. pictures executed on rice-paper are next acquired on the same terms; then a cargo of daggers and swords with handles and scabbards covered with shark skin is secured after a brief dicker. when you buy a carved ivory ball representing years of labor by a genius, or a dozen bolts of chee-fu silk, the price of which may be several hundred mexican dollars, john insists that you are entitled to a _cumsha_ of value. the merchant makes obeisance and proffers you a paper-cutter or a box of candied ginger. john resents this parsimony and says "not good enough." he goes then behind the counter and pulls down a mandarin coat weighted with embroidery, or maybe an intricately carved puff-box, saying "the merchant gives you this with his compliments." everything is dumped in the gorgeous palanquin, and your spoliation dash through commercial canton is resumed. [illustration: city of boats, canton, where generations are born and die] between purchases, you are taken to see innumerable temples and other objects of interest, as they fall in your path. the temple of the five hundred genii is made amusing by the scion of the house of ah cum explaining that a figure sculptured with hat of european pattern is "joss pau low." as a reader you are aware that it is the effigy of marco polo, the intrepid italian traveler supposed to have been the first european to have penetrated ancient china. the water-clock, elsewhere, is found to be out of order and not running, and you assume that the water of the pearl river is too muddy for delicate mechanisms. the execution ground is found to be merely a quadrilateral of vacant land, employed by native potters when not required by the state when a group of criminals is to be officially put to death. the guide is regretful that your visit is a few days too late for you to see five men beheaded in as many minutes. employing a chair-coolie as a lay figure, john manages to give a satisfactory description of the _modus operandi_ of a decapitation, and you let it go at that. a stalwart native is then introduced as the official headsman, and this functionary promptly tries to sell the heavy-bladed sword with which he says he struck off five heads earlier in the week. probably three hundred malefactors are annually put to death on this spot, and it is said that the public executioner has been known to sell twice that number of swords in a year. now and again a loaferish policeman is seen, nearly always leaning against a building or finding support from the angle of a deep-set door. most of the police wear sandals and straw hats, and carry long batons and revolvers; but there is no sameness of apparel or armament among these guardians of the peace, attested by their wearing only a portion of their uniform at a time. the cantonese believe their police are equipped and dressed in strict accord with the "finest" of a great city in america. on the way to that section of the city where cantonese of high and low degree are laid away after death, we encounter a returning funeral party that made a curious procession, and one stretching to inordinate length. in front was a ragamuffin corps of drummers and men extracting ear-racking noises from metal instruments that looked like flageolets, but were not. twenty or thirty bedraggled buddhist priests in pairs trotted behind, proving by their individual gaits that in china there is no union of religion and music. interspersed in the marching medley were a dozen or more gaudily painted platforms with pole handles, carried by coolies in the way that chairs are borne. each platform displayed a layout of varnished pigs with immovably staring eyes, plates of uncooked strips of fish, and decorative objects suggesting place in a well-to-do chinese home. every fifty yards or so a mustached official of uncertain rank was mounted on a tartary pony, and at the end of the column a coolie loped along bearing across his naked shoulders the deceased's yankee-made bicycle. no student of foreign conditions could ask more striking evidence that china was at last "waking up," was heeding the influences of western civilization, surely. the funeral party suggested perfunctory pomp and display, and gave not a suggestion of bereavement--and that it was, for every person in the cortege was hired for the occasion. half the food had been left at the tomb for the departed in his spirit form; the remainder was to be devoured by the mercenary mourners when the procession broke up at the door of the home from which the corpse had been carried. ah cum john's clients lunch in the renowned five-story pagoda, rising from the city wall to an elevation that spreads canton at its feet; but by the time one reaches the building he is satiated with views and wants nothing but food. the chicago "air-tights" and bottled beers and table-waters fetched from the steamer are relished to the full by appetites not always satisfied by the culinary achievements of a delmonico. travelers insist that canton is more essentially chinese in an educational sense than any other city in china. public speech in hong kong reflects the control of britain, and in shanghai popular opinion is held to be tainted with german or british opinion. at pekin the game of diplomacy is played too consummately to allow an expressed utterance to have any national significance, for the capital is looked upon as a city eddying with cross currents and rival influences. consequently, the pulse of the great flowery kingdom, with its more than four hundred million people, can best be taken at canton, for the native press and native scholars there say frankly what they believe. cantonese opinion is potential because the capital city of the great kwang-tung province is recognized as the center of national learning, where scholarship is prized above riches. no canton youth who aims at the first social order thinks of setting himself to make money; to enter the service of the government is his object, and to achieve this he studies literature. there is practically no barrier in china to becoming a "literate," and the classification means all that the word "gentleman" can in europe. for this and other reasons thousands of men in canton wear horn-rimmed spectacles, look wise, and discuss mundane affairs in a manner brooking no contention. the literary bureaucracy of canton wields a mighty influence in the affairs of the nation, it is insisted. a member of this class may not be able to do the simplest sum in arithmetic without the assistance of his counting-machine, but he may be able to write an essay on the meanings of ideographs, reproduce a trimetrical classic, or quote the philosophic works of confucius and the book of mencius until you grow faint from listening. once every three years canton teems with men, young and old, who have gathered to compete for academic degrees. any one save the son of a barber, an actor, or the keeper of a brothel, may enter the list, provided he possesses the certificate of a high school. a certain part of the city not demanded by business or residential purposes is designated as the examination hall, where , cells or compartments are built of brick and wood. these cubicles, six by eight feet square, are arranged in rows, like cattle-pens at an american agricultural fair. placed side by side they would extend eight miles. these cells have no furnishing whatever, save a plank to serve as desk and bed. the night before the examination is to begin the student is searched, and with writing materials and provisions sufficient for three days, is shut in his cell. this is repeated three times, making the examination extend to nine days. from sunrise to sunset no candidate is permitted to rise from his seat, and if one be taken ill and carried out, he cannot return for that contest. it is said that a few of the old men succumb to the strain at each examination. the theses or essays of but eighty-three of the competitors can be accepted, and the fortunate ones are rewarded by the bachelor of arts degree. in time these compete near pekin for a "doctor" degree--and if abundantly rich, the successful scholar may bribe his way to official employment, say persons intimately knowing the customs of china. those who pass the final degree become members of what is termed the hon lum college, and this furnishes china with her councilors, district rulers, and examiners of scholarships in all the provinces--at least in theory. the fortunate man standing at the head of the list in the great examination near pekin receives the title of chong yuen, and is termed "the greatest scholar in the world." the entire empire reveres him, and, taking into consideration the number of the examinations he has stood, he should be respected, if not for erudition, for his tenacity of purpose and the possession of a marvelous constitution. but it is asserted that this "greatest scholar" is invariably a millionaire and a manchu. [illustration: examination booths, canton] even the "literate" failing to secure appointment to public office has certain valued exemptions and prerogatives. when he fulminates against the pekin government or against the acts of an overbearing viceroy, his words are attentively listened to and carry weight. besides, the horn-rimmed spectacles give him a local standing envied by every man who toils or has to do with business. in canton and other cities of china, standing before many of the larger and pretentious houses, are ornamental "literary poles," and these are always in pairs and generally show respectable decay. when newly erected they are painted in colors according to the rank of the family--white for a private citizen, red for a civil functionary, and blue for the army. a mast having a single row of brackets a few feet from the top means the degree of ku yan, equivalent to our m. a., and called in china the degree of promoted men; the degree of entered scholar, nearly equivalent to our ll.d., called tsun sze, is represented by two rows of brackets; and the highest degree attainable, hon lum, is announced by three rows of brackets, locally termed the "forest of pencils." the projecting brackets make admirable perches for pigeons and other domesticated birds. as the family and not the individual is the basis of the custom, the masts are always erected in front of the ancestral home, although the distinguished scholar may live miles away. the poles are never repaired or replaced unless some other member of the family acquires academic honors. china has no custom more poetic than the indicating of an abode from which a scholar has emerged. while it is easy to admit the erudition of the chinese in their own language, the tourist swung through canton's streets perceives from his sedan-chair many signs displayed to catch the eye of the foreigner that prove the english schoolmaster to be absent. to read such announcements as "chinese and japanese curious," "blackwood furnitures," "meals at all day and night," and "steam laundry & co." provoke a titter in a city where you believe yourself to be an unwelcome visitor. it is obvious that the scholars of china are not reduced to the straits of becoming sign-painters. the greatest of all canton sights is undeniably that of life on the boats along the river front, penetrating every creek, and extending along the paddy fields above and below the great city. there has never been a census of this "floating population," but it is estimated that more than three hundred thousand cantonese have no other homes but the junks, sampans, "flower boats" and "snake boats," upon which they are literally born, reared, married, and die. lining both sides of the river, extending into shameen creek, the sampans are everywhere. they ferry people across the stream or convey them wherever they wish to go in the neighborhood, carry light cargoes of fuel, food, or merchandise, deliver packages, and do a thousand and one services of the "odd-job" order. a sampan nearly always houses an entire family, and is rowed by the father and mother. beneath the round covering amidships the woman conducts the domestic affairs of the family with a cleverness that is remarkable, and for cleanliness it may be said that the canton sampan is equal to any abiding-place on shore. the cooking is done forwards over a "fire-box," flowering plants frequently are placed in the boat's stern, and within the cabin incense sticks may nearly always be seen burning before the family idol. a mother ties very young children to the deck by a long cord, while older children romp at large with a bamboo float fastened about their bodies, which serves at once for clothing and life-preserver. it is a common sight to see sampans propelled up and down stream by women, each rower having an infant strapped to her back. the good behavior of the babies of the sampan flotilla is always appreciated by visiting mothers whose nurse-maids at home have difficulty in keeping their young from crying their lungs out. the "flower boats," moored a mile or two below the business part of canton's foreshore, are the antithesis of the sampans, for they cater to a pleasure-loving class, to men and women possessing wobbly morals, who love good dinners and suppers and a game of fan-tan without too much publicity, with singing and dancing as adjuncts. in build these craft are like the house-boats of the thames, and the custom of tricking them out with flowering plants suggests the scene at henley during regatta week. practically all the vice that a traveler learns of during a visit to canton is confined to the flower boats, and their floral appellation comes from the reputed attractiveness of the sirens dwelling upon them. the boats are moored side by side in long rows, with planks leading from one to another. prices on the boats are always high, and the native voluptuary pays extravagantly and the foreigner ruinously whenever he devotes an evening to the floral fleet. by night the boats are gorgeous with their mirrors and myriad lamps alight, and blackwood tables and stools inlaid with mother-of-pearl; but by the light of day they look tawdry to the point of shabbiness. to a person interested in marine construction, especially one hailing from a land where steam has supplanted sail-power, and where gasolene and other inexpensive motors have made rowing almost obsolete, the pearl river "hot-foot" boats, so called by europeans, are intensely interesting. these craft connect whampoa and other out-lying towns with canton, run in and out of rivers, and carry passengers, freight, and sometimes the mails. they are of fairly good lines, but are propelled by huge stern-wheels, and the motive power is contributed by from ten to twenty barebacked and perspiring coolies running up a treadmill that occupies as much room amidships as boiler and engine might. when the taskmaster urges the coolies to do their best, one of these "hot-foot" boats chugs along in calm water at a five-knot gait, but ordinarily three knots an hour is the normal speed. on the left bank of the river and close to canton is a large leper village, where all native craft approaching the city have to pay a "leper toll." if this is done as soon as the vessel reaches the suburb the head leper gives a pass which franks the ship through; without this, any of the numerous lepers are able to demand a fee, which has to be paid, otherwise the junk would be surrounded by these people and all work brought to a standstill. chapter xiii macao, the monte carlo of the far east a prettier marine journey than from canton to macao, is not possible in the orient, and it is of only eighty miles and accomplished by daylight with convenient hours of departure and arrival. as on all passenger-carrying craft plying the great estuary having hong kong and macao for its base and canton its apex, you find the native passengers on your boat confined below the deck whereon the state-rooms and dining saloon of european travelers are located, and you perceive racks of mausers and cutlasses at convenient points of this upper deck. to american eyes it is novel to see every stairway closed by a grated iron door, and a man armed with a carbine on your side of each of these barriers. you perceive on the main deck three or four hundred chinamen of the coolie class, some playing card games, others smoking metal pipes with diminutive bowls, but most of them slumbering in a variety of grotesque attitudes. none of these mongols who observe your curiosity seems to hold any feeling of resentment for the effective separation of the races, which places him, the native of the land, in a position that might be called equivocal. the english skipper and his scotch engineer, who take the seats of honor when tiffin is served, respond willingly to your appeal for an explanation of the doors of bar-iron and the display of weapons--every first-class passenger always asks the question, and on every trip the british seafarers tell the story of chinese piracy as practised up to comparatively recent times in the great estuary having a dozen or more names. and an interesting tale it is, for it recounts deeds of the sea quite as audacious and high-handed as anything performed on land by jesse james and his stage-coach bandits. up to fifteen or eighteen years ago the estuary bristled with chinese pirates, and wherever native fishermen and sailors foregathered, at hong kong, canton or macao, schemes for holding-up and sacking steamers carrying bullion and valuable merchandise were hatched with a frequency that gave a phase to local commerce that was anything but comforting, and more than one brave yankee or british sailor went to his death fighting yellow thugs against overwhelming odds. the public decapitation of a handful of these murderers appeared to place no check on the outlawry. [illustration: principal section of macao] once a canton-bound steamer, carrying the mails and a considerable amount of specie, had her progress obstructed by two junks that wilfully forced her into shoal water. in the confusion that followed the grounding, a score of coolies, who up to that moment had been regarded as honest deck passengers, rushed to the pilot-house and engine-room and murdered every white man on board. practically everything of value was then transferred to the junks, now conveniently alongside, and the spoil was landed at such points in the estuary that made official detection well-nigh impossible. this is but a sample of the stories you may hear while yellow-faced chinamen are serving your food, and it must be confessed that it affords a sense of confidence to know that the grates of the stairways are actually locked, and that the rifles of the guards are loaded with ball ammunition. as he sips his black coffee at the termination of luncheon, the captain assures you that until within a few years a skipper was suspicious alike of every native deck passenger and every fishing junk indicating a disposition to claim more than its share of the channel; "but the old days in china," he concludes, "have disappeared forever, and piracy as an occupation has passed with them." getting back to the forepart of the ship, the views on land and sea are engrossingly interesting. on the shores of the mainland and on an occasional island are ancient forts which revive memories of interesting experiences of the white man's invasion of the celestial kingdom, and the foreground of rice-fields is backed by interminable groves of mulberry-trees explaining china's preeminence as a silk producer. numerous villages are passed, and from them the traveler obtains a fair idea of the rustic life of china. now and again a pagoda is visible, crowning an elevation, and recalling childhood's school-book illustrations. you jump at the convenient conclusion that these structures of from six to ten stories had to do with the religion of the country, which surmise is erroneous, for the towers were reared to guard the geomantic properties of their respective neighborhoods, and in reality are relics of a bygone age of superstition. the pioneer european settlement of the far east--macao--is at last in sight, and it presents immediately a visual contrast to canton, by reason of its picturesque situation. there is something about the promontory that takes you back to southern europe, to the summer sea and the shores of the mediterranean, perhaps to a brightly situated fishing port of the littoral of the riviera. as the vessel rounds the cape and comes to anchor in the pretty crescent formed by the praia grande, flanked by terraced houses colored with minor tints of blue and yellow, you know instantly that this stranded eastern rainbow is monte carlo--no, the oriental equivalent of the beauty-spot of latin europe. macao is a little place large with history, in fact is an atom of europe almost lost to public gaze by the vastness of asia, and as much a part of the kingdom of portugal as lisbon itself. as the most enterprising maritime and trading nation of the sixteenth century, the portuguese were the first to sail the eastern seas, the first to open up commercial relations between europe and the great empire of china, and holding the monopoly of all oriental trade until the end of the eighteenth century. owing to the prospect of increased gain, following on this european invasion, the waters of the pearl river estuary soon became infested with pirates, which the portuguese magnanimously assisted the chinese government to subdue, and, in return, it is recorded, received in the cession of the rocky peninsula on which the portuguese colony now stands. more than once portugal had to maintain her rights by recourse to arms, but the colony has remained portuguese without interruption for more than three hundred and fifty years, and is a hoary patriarch beside infantile british hong kong and german tsing-tau. the oldest lighthouse on the coast of china is that of guia, standing sentinel on the highest point of the portuguese colony. the colony has a population of perhaps eighty thousand persons, and practically all these are chinese. there are, of course, a few score of civil and judicial functionaries springing from the mother-country; and, as in all places where europeans have long lived in friendly association with orientals, the eurasian class is strikingly numerous. in no court on the tagus are the laws of portugal construed with more tenacity and precision than in macao's chambers of justice; and the flag of portugal floats over the homes of hundreds of loyal subjects who know only in a hazy manner where portugal really is--they are rich chinese and others evading the chinese tax collector, or escaping burdensome laws, and for many years these crafty mongols have made a sort of political gretna green of macao. certain influential chinamen carrying on business in canton or other southern communities live in almost regal splendor in macao, and when the minions of the chinese government attempt to hale them before a tribunal of law, or compel them to share the expense of carrying on the administration of a province, they exclaim in chinese, "oh, no; i'm a subject of the king of portugal"--and prove it. the great sugar planter of the hawaiian islands, ah fong, whose eurasian daughters were beautiful and accomplished enough to find splendid american and european husbands, was a subject of the portuguese crown, strange to say. his domicile on the praia grande is one of macao's proudest mansions. [illustration: frontier gate between china proper and the portuguese colony] the colony of macao is scarcely more important than one of anthony hope's imaginary kingdoms, but for the fact that it is on the map, for the area of portugal's foothold is not more than two or three miles in length, and a half-mile to a mile in width; it is merely the rocky promontory of the tip end of the island of heung shan. a wall of masonry with artistic gateway separates the dominion of portugal from the great chinese empire--on one side of the portal the law of the emperor of china is absolute, and on the other the rule of the monarch of portugal is sacred. in various ways the place and its people remind strongly of a comic-opera setting--but the officer there serving his far-away sovereign discourses with serious countenance of goa, and delagoa bay and macao as important colonial possessions. until hong kong under the british began to rise as a port and base of commercial distribution, macao had a considerable trade; but with the decline of business the harbor has silted up until now an oversea ship could not find anchorage. a few industries, like cement making and silk winding, are carried on in the outskirts of the colony, and a suspiciously large amount of prepared opium is shipped, although the closest observer can detect not a poppy under cultivation anywhere on the rocky promontory. the old protestant cemetery contains many graves of good men and true, such as naval officers and seamen, who have died on eastern seas, and whose comrades preferred to leave them interred in christian soil rather than intrust their cherished remains to cemeteries in pagan lands. the headstones of macao's god's-acre bear name after name once carried with pride on the rolls of the american, british or french naval and merchantman services, and diplomatic and consular titles are recorded on more than one headstone. it is interesting to scale the steps to inspect closely the façade of the jesuit church of san paulo, erected some three hundred years ago. nothing remains but the towering façade, as erect as if reared yesterday, and bearing silent testimony to the courage of the pioneers in the far east of the catholic faith. a 'rickshaw journey through every important street, from the center where are the hotel and government buildings to the remotest patches of farming land near the "frontier," consumes scarcely two hours. in the public park you come not infrequently upon statues with tablets informing all observers of the importance and majesty of the home country welded to the peninsula of europe, once famed for the intrepidity of its navigators and adventurers. if macao move the visitor to voice an opinion, it is that under certain conditions which you might name the place could be a veritable paradise, but that benevolent portugal is there conducting an earthly nirvana for all and sundry of china's affluent sons mustering the ingenuity and influence to gain shelter beneath the flag of dear old portugal. macao's claim to renown rests chiefly upon the fact that portugal's greatest bard, camoens, there wrote in part or its entirety the immortal "lusiad," which in epic form details the prowess of the sons of ancient lusitania in eastern discovery and oversea feats of daring, and in which work the voyages and discoveries of vasco da gama are recorded with the fidelity of a history prepared by a sympathetic admirer. as scholars know, the "lusiad" was first published in , is in ten cantos and stanzas, and is translated into most modern languages. important american and english libraries possess it by at least four translators, each being more or less a standard. [illustration: bust of camoens, macao] the life of the great poet is underlaid with romance and sadness. born at lisbon about , he was given an education fitting him for a courtier's life, and it was an unfortunate affection for a high-born donna in attendance upon the queen that caused him to be banished from the land of his birth. after a roystering career as a soldier in africa, he sought shelter at goa, in india. there he wrote a volume severely castigating the home government for its official abuses in the east, and this led to his being treated by his countrymen as a traitor and outcast. now in a goa prison, now at liberty, he at last went to macao, and it was there that by his pen he redeemed to some extent his good name, to the extent certainly of being permitted to return to lisbon, and there he died about , poor and neglected. it is insisted that camoens's influence and efforts preserved the portuguese language from destruction during the spanish occupation of the neighboring country, and it is a fact that before no less than thirty-eight editions of the "lusiad" were published in portugal. to commemorate the eight or ten years he passed in macao, a public garden is named for him, and there, in a grotto of impressive grandeur, is a bust of the man singing the praises of his natal country as no other writer in verse or prose has ever succeeded in doing. the bronze effigy rests on a plinth upon which is engraved in three languages these lines from the pen of a pilgrim to the eastern shrine once hallowed by the presence of the bard of a nation: gem of the orient earth and open sea macao! that in thy lap and on thy breast hast gathered beauties all the loveliest o'er which the sun smiles in his majesty. the very clouds that top the mountain crest seem to repose there lingering lovingly. how full of grace the green cathyan tree bends to the breeze and how thy sands are prest with gentlest waves which ever and anon break their awakened furies on thy shore. * * * * * * were these the scenes that poet looked upon, whose lyre though known to fame knew misery more? * * * * * * they have their glories and earth's diadems have nought so bright as genius' gilded gems. the lines were written by sir john bowring, english scholar and traveler, who visited macao in the latter half of the last century, and the expense of the memorial and its grounds was borne by a patriotic portuguese, lorenço marques, whose name has been preserved by being given to the seaport on delagoa bay in portuguese east africa. for a place whose commerce is notoriously in eclipse, you are curious to learn whence springs the golden shower giving the appearance of prosperity to macao, for the general air of the colony suggests an easy affluence. to keep the governor's palace and the judiciary buildings covered with paint costs something, you know, while the paved streets and bridges and viaducts give support to the surmise of an exchequer not permanently depleted. portugal, nowadays almost robbing peter to pay paul, is in no condition to succor an impecunious colony situated in another hemisphere, you are aware, and you appeal for elucidation of the fiscal problem. "very easy, dear sir," your cicerone promptly rejoins, "this is the monte carlo of the far east. gambling is here a business--all the business there is, and the concessions for the fan-tan and lottery monopolies pay for everything, practically making taxation unnecessary." the statement would cause something of a shock to a guileless stranger, especially to one who had believed he had perceived a natural likeness between the little principality on the mediterranean and this beauty spot of the orient. but china is rather too far to the eastward of suez for simon-pure guile, and the globe-trotter decides to thoroughly explore local conditions by way of adding to his worldly knowledge. if you go to the post-office to mail a letter, you recognize perforce how backward a colony of portugal may be in supplying the trifling requirements of life, for you stand minutes in a nondescript line before your stamp is sheared from a sheet by a functionary having a capacity for activity possibly rivaled by an alpine glacier--then you wait at the communal mucilage pot to secure in turn the required adhesive substance. a good correspondent in macao would pass half his time at the post-office, you conclude. but there is nothing backward, nothing harking back to the middle ages, in the plan by which the public cash-box is filled, you learn after plodding investigation. the merits of direct and indirect taxation, even of the henry george program for raising the public wind, have never been seriously considered by portugal's administrators in the east, nor has municipal ownership of utilities been discussed, you discover. the official bigwigs who administer macao know that it is as necessary for the chinaman to gamble as to have food--and the colony accordingly legalizes fan-tan and semi-daily lotteries, supplies the requisite machinery for carrying on the games, and reaps a _benefice_ for its enterprise that runs the community without further ado. that is all there is to macao's fiscal policy. hong kong, only forty miles across the estuary, bristles with commercial prosperity. the british government permits hong kongers to bet on horse-races, buy and sell stocks, and promote devious companies, but forbids fan-tan and lotteries. there is, consequently, a daily flow of men, women, and dollars between hong kong and macao. besides, no traveler not actively engaged in uplifting his fellow-man, feels that he has seen the orient unless he passes a few hours or days in endeavoring to lure fortune at the gambling tables. the colonial lottery is no more dignified or important than a policy game in an american town, and seems to be but the western idea clouded by its adaptation to asiatic uses, tourists affirm. macao licenses twenty fan-tan places, and these run all day and all night, and are graded in their patrons from tourists and natives of fortune and position down to joints admitting 'rickshaw coolies, sailors, and harbor riffraff. the gilded establishment claiming attention from travelers is conducted by a couple of chinese worthies, by name ung hang and hung vo, according to the business card deferentially handed you at your hotel, and the signs in front of it and the legends painted on great lanterns proclaim it as a first-chop _casa de jogo_, and a gambling-house that is "no. " in all respects. the gamesters whose garments proclaim them to be middle-class chinamen pack themselves like sardines into the room where the table is situated, for they obviously believe in watching their interests at close hand. the floor above, by reason of the rail-protected opening in the center, is little more than a spacious gallery; but it is there that the big gamblers congregate, natives in costly fabrics, and whose rotund bodies tell of lives not spent in toil. they loll on blackwood divans and smoke opium and send their bank-notes and commands to the gambling table by servants, until yielding to the exalted dreams induced by the poppy fumes. they are polite fellows, every man of them, and make it apparent that they would like to do something for the entertainment of each man and woman tourist in the room. in this strange establishment globe-trotting novices sit around the railed opening and make their bets on the game below through an interpreter attendant. this obliging man lowers your coins to the croupier in a basket, and draws up any "bet" you may have had the luck to win. and what a medley of coins you are paid in! there are coins of china and japan obsolete years ago in those countries, money of the philippine islands, even nickles and dimes whose worth has been stamped by uncle sam. it is said that half the pocket-pieces of asia find their way onto the gambling boards of macao, and that a thrifty croupier seeks to pay them out to the tourist who will remove them from local circulation. the linguistic representative of the management endeavors to play the bountiful host to most visitors. he takes one through the building, permits you to peep within a chamber filled with oleaginous chinamen in brocade petticoats, sleeping off the effects of the opium pipe, explains painted fans and other attempts at decoration on the walls, and indicates a retiring room where you may rest or even pass the night, all without charge. [illustration: in a fan-tan gambling house, macao] then he orders refreshments brought, and with the manner of a veteran courtier proffers a tray heaped with oranges, an egg-shell cup filled with tea that is almost without color, and dried watermelon seeds that you might munch after the manner of the neck-or-nothing gamblers on the lower floor. when you politely decline these, the courtly one most likely says, "you no likee tea and seeds--then have whiskysoda." chinese courtezans, with feet bound to a smallness making locomotion difficult and obviously painful, wearing what in the western world would be called "trousers," and invariably bedecked with earrings or bracelets of exquisite jade, edge their way to the gambling table, and put their money down in handfuls as long as it lasts. to spend an evening in the liberally-conducted establishment of messrs. ung hang and hung vo is enlightening in various ways. because fan-tan is the passion of asiatics, the popular idea is that it must be the wickedest of all games, if not the most complicated. fan-tan as a fact is simplicity itself, being no more than the counting off into units of four several quarts of little metal discs called "cash," until there remain one, two, three or four discs. the result determines what bets, laid about a four-sided space on the table, win--a single remaining "cash" makes the -side win, two the -side, and so on. each hazard is a one-to-three wager, and the bank pays on this basis after deducting the recognized percentage supporting the establishment. spinning a top with four numbered sides would accomplish in a minute the same result as the tedious counting of a heap of discs, varying with every "deal" according to the whim or superstition of the players, who may add to or take from the pile prior to the beginning of the count. it is fortunate for the millions of the conservative far east that their principal gambling game is not a quick one, like roulette, for the player of fan-tan gets "action" only about once in every ten minutes. at roulette and most other games favored by white men a gambler knows his fate in a minute. chapter xiv the kaiser's play for chinese trade having no voice in the controversy leading to the war, germany should have remained neutral throughout the bitter russo-japanese conflict. germany was neutral so far as official proprieties went; but in sympathy and numberless unofficial acts she aided and abetted russia to a degree unsurpassed by the bear's plighted ally, france. it is a fact incontrovertible that from the commencement of hostilities the german emperor was as pro-russian as any wearer of the czar's uniform, and most german bankers and ship-owners found it easy to take the cue from berlin and view situations of international procedure in a manner permitting them to reap golden benefits. teuton bankers took the lead in financing the russian cause, and whenever russia was forced to purchase ships to augment her fleet, these were always found in germany. when the czar despatched his squadrons to the far east, they were coaled practically throughout the long journey from german colliers. and in other helpful ways germany officiated as the handmaiden of russia. the kaiser's favoritism was infectious throughout his empire, and had the contending armies and fleets in the far east been equally matched, with the outcome hanging in the balance, the influence of william ii could have swayed the continent of europe in russia's favor, and a great moral advantage would thereby have accrued to russia that would have been difficult to overcome. why? because the kaiser is the strongest, most influential, and cleverest potentate in europe. splendid exemplar of the war-lord idea, he is really the peer of diplomatists, a ruler whose utterances are to-day weighed and discussed as are those of none other. understanding the value of words, and a coiner of subtle phrases, an epigram from the kaiser contrasting the destiny and rights of the "white man" and the "yellow man" would probably have isolated the british as japan's only sympathizers in the old world, had it been made at an opportune time. but the psychological moment never came--there was a hitch somewhere in asia, and kuropatkin's genius was expended in masterly retreats; all the triumphs on land and sea were those of the little men under the sun flag. finally came a mighty engagement, and william hastened to decorate the russian loser and the japanese victor. but the point was strained; the public perceived this. as a result, the incident fell flatter than the anticlimax of a melodrama played to empty seats. the kaiser's chagrin was great. but it need not have been, for the march of events in the east was proving him simply to be mortal--he had failed to pick the winner, and was gradually becoming aware of it. a plunger in a sporting event perceives an error of judgment in a few minutes, usually. with the war-lord of germany it required the lapse of months to convince him of the sad fact that japan would win in the great struggle. why war-lord, as an appellation for the august william? adept in the art of warfare he surely is; but have not the fatherland's victories under his rule been those of peace, and those only? has germany been involved in strife possessing the dignity of war since he came to the throne? has she not, on the other hand, made headway in trade and sea transportation under his guidance that has no parallel in the history of a european state? yes, emphatically. and are not the words "made in germany" so painfully familiar throughout two thirds of the globe, especially in great britain and her possessions, that they strike terror to britons who study with apprehension the statistics of england's waning trade? this is true, also. and suez canal returns prove that the users of the waterway under britain's red flag are yearly less numerous, while the number of german ships is steadily growing. [illustration: typical business street in a chinese city] then why not trade-lord, for this is what the german emperor is? it is the better appellation, and more truthfully descriptive. it surely is creditable to the german people that their national progress is due to habits of industry and thrift, rather than to military display: the artisan, not the drill-master, is making germany great. and could trade-lord william be honestly called "astute" if he overlooked the fact, obvious as a mountain, that one of the stakes in the russo-japanese conflict would be the privilege amounting almost to right, to commercially exploit the most populous country on god's footstool--china? more than one fourth of the people of the earth are chinese, and their country at the present time is more primitive, in the scarcity of railways, telegraphs, public utilities, and every provision conducing to comfort and common-sense living, than any other land pretending to civilization. it is a fact that outside of shanghai, canton, pekin and tientsin, the people do not want many of the products of the outer world; but it is a truism that much profit accrues from teaching asiatics to "want" modern products. the german emperor foresaw that china could not much longer resist the invasion of outside enterprise and trade; and to his mind there could have been no suspicion of doubt that the victor in the awful contest could and would dictate trade terms and privileges everywhere in the celestial empire. if japan won, the japanese would surely exploit commercially their great neighbor, whose written language is nearly identical with their own--this would be but natural to the mikado's people, teeming with aptitude as manufacturers and traders, and recognizing the necessity for recouping outlay in the war. if russia were successful, her reward would be the validating of her hold upon manchuria, the bundling of the japs out of korea, and the attainment to a position of controlling influence in china's political affairs. the supplying of articles of general manufacture and commerce to the , , people of china could have been no part of russia's aspiration, for the reason that russia is not a manufacturing country and has but little to sell. her enormous tea bill to china is paid yearly in money, even. a nation seeking in time to control the whole of asia couldn't bother with commercial matters, certainly not. yet, one of the fruits of victory in the war would have been the splendid opportunity to exploit trade everywhere in china--a privilege of priceless value. what country was to benefit through this, with russia's moral support and permission, had the czar's legions been successful? france? hardly; for the french were bound by hard and fast alliance, and it had never been the policy at st. petersburg to give anything material to france. uncle sam, whose people had financed half the war loans of japan, could scarcely hope to extend his business in china with russia's cooperation; nor could japan's ally and moral supporter, john bull. who, then, could stand in a likelier position to become legatee of this valued privilege than the trade-lord of germany? the emperor william had been russia's "best friend" from the inception of the war, and was admittedly an adept in promoting trade, for his people had attained in a few years to an envied position in the commerce of the world. a quarter of the trade of "awakened" china would make germany a vast workshop, a hive of industry. and this was precisely what the astute hohenzollern saw through the smoke of battle in far-away manchuria. he saw a prosperous germany if the slav crushed the yellow man. to say he did not would be a libel upon a giant intellect. any one disposed to review practically certain incidents in the recent history of germany may develop a dozen reasons why the emperor should seek to make his country all important through trade conquest. let it be remembered that the kaiser chafes at barriers of every kind, and that there is a boundlessness in his nature at times trying to his patience. he looks at the map of the german empire and painfully admits that the present frontiers and area are practically those bequeathed by the great william. to a divine-right monarch this is exasperating. the loftiest ambition of a sovereign is to have the national area expand under his rule. william's medieval temperament shudders at the crowded condition of the earth in this twentieth century, when all frontiers appear immovable. had he lived in the days of the crusaders his valiant sword would probably have brought all palestine under german control; and had he been a free agent when bonapartism collapsed he most likely would have carried the german standard to the mediterranean, perhaps to stamboul. the ironical fact is that the german emperor has had rebuffs and disappointments in his efforts to expand his realm. the monroe doctrine, excluding his empire from even a coaling station in this hemisphere, is to the kaiser a perpetual nightmare. sturdy sons of the fatherland control the trade of more than one republic in south and central america, but nowhere is it possible to unfurl the standard of germany over "colony" or "sphere of influence." to forcibly back up his subjects' pecuniary rights in the american hemisphere, even, the approval of the government at washington has first to be obtained. in his heart the kaiser loathes the doctrine of monroe; that is obvious. it is twenty years since germany began to build up a colonial empire in africa, and the net result is that, after spending some hundred million dollars, she has acquired over a hundred million square miles of territory, with a sparsely scattered german population of between five and six thousand souls. a third of the adult white population is represented by officials and soldiers. militarism is rampant everywhere, with the result that the white settler shuns german colonies as he would the plague. the keen-witted kaiser long ago saw that empire-building in the dark continent could produce nothing but expense during his lifetime. [illustration: exhibition of bodies of chinese malefactors who have been strangled] "to perdition with the monroe doctrine, and with african tribes blind to the excellence of german-made wares," the kaiser might have said ten years ago: "i'll have sweet revenge upon all and sundry by capturing trade everywhere--i'll make germany the workshop of the universe. keep your territory, if you like; i'll get the trade! bah, monroe doctrine! bah, grinning senegambians!" the resolute trade-lord then turned his face to the bountiful orient, pregnant with resource beyond the dreams of avarice, teeming with hundreds of millions of people. the east had made england dominant in the world's affairs. keeping his soldiers at home, the kaiser hurled a legion of trade-getters into the far east, planting commercial outposts in ceylon, sending a flying column of bagmen and negotiators to india and the straits settlements, and distributing a numerical division of business agents throughout china. the empire of the celestials was made the focal point of a great propaganda, openly espoused by the emperor. it was readily demonstrated that great britain had no permanent control of commerce in the east, not even in her own possessions. the teuton, for a time content with trifling profit, underbid all rivals--and orders and contracts poured into germany. belgian products competed only in price; and american manufacturers seemed too busy in providing goods for home use to seriously try for business in asia--they booked orders coming practically unsought, that was about all. the chino-japanese conflict of a dozen years ago, although disastrous to china's army, stimulated the absorbing power of the chinese for goods of western manufacture, and germany sold her wares right and left. important steamship lines were then subsidized by the german government to maintain regular services between germany and the far east, carrying goods and passengers at reasonable charges: and it was known that in his personal capacity the emperor had become a large shareholder in one of them. germany was prospering, and the trade-lord and his lieutenants were happy. all recognized the possibilities of oriental business. china was preparing to throw off the conservatism and lethargy of centuries, and trade was the key-note of everything pertaining to germany's relations with the pekin government. german diplomatists on service in china were instructed to employ every good office to induce german business, and the kaiser himself selected and instructed consular officials going to the flowery kingdom. able commercial attaches, with capacity for describing trade conditions, were maintained there, and required to be as industrious as beavers. for trade-promoting capacity german consuls in china have no equal--and they all know that the kaiser's interest in chinese trade amounts to mania. the assassination in the streets of pekin, in , of minister von kettler, germany's envoy, and the subsequent sending of an imperial prince of china to berlin to express the regrets of the chinese government, strengthened materially the kaiser's hold upon chinese affairs. reiteration from washington of the "open door" in china struck no terror to the kaiser, justified in believing he could hold his position against all comers. as proof of this belief he might point to german steamers in hong kong and shanghai literally vomiting forth each week thousands of tons of goods "made in germany," penetrating every section of china even to the upper waters of the yang-tse. a few years ago nearly all this trade was exclusively british. the question of chinese exclusion and the threatened boycott of american goods by china was the occasion of anxiety in this country--but none in germany. it is well appreciated that the spread of the sentiment in the east that the united states is unjust to chinamen of the better class might undo the splendid work of secretary hay in cultivating the friendship of the celestial empire by standing fast for china's administrative entity and insisting on the "open door" policy. knowing that the "awakening" of china would be one of the results of the war, the master mind in berlin had not long to consider where the interest of germany lay, for he well knew that if they conquered, the japs might in a few years supply the kindred chinese with practically every article needed from abroad. if russia won, then "best friend" william of germany, one of the most irresistible forces in the world, would have a freer hand in china than ever--and this would mean a prosperous germany for years to come. by directing the sympathies of the german people to the russian side, the kaiser played a trump card in statecraft, certainly. as a soldier, william ii must have known the fighting ability and prowess of the little men of japan, for german officers had for years been the instructors of the mikado's army--but the public attitude of the head of a government must ever be that which best serves the state. whatever the chagrin at berlin over russia's defeat, a battle royal will be needed for japan to overcome germany's lead in chinese trade; but in time japan will have this, provided she is well advised and has the tact to play fair with uncle sam and his commercial rights. what of the german colony in china--kiau-chau, on the east coast of the shan-tung peninsula, whose forts frown upon the yellow sea? is there anything like it, strategically and trade wise, in the east? when the kaiser's glance falls upon the map of kiau-chau, and he recalls the ease with which he segregated from pekin's rule a goodly piece of old china, he may be irreverently moved to the extent of again snapping his fingers at the monroe doctrine, and at millions of simple africans who refuse to eat german foods and wear not a stitch of german fabrics. kiau-chau represents the cleverest feat of colony-building the world has seen since the great powers declared a closure to land-grabbing in the east. [illustration: simple punishment of a chinese mendicant] when some german missionaries were murdered a few years since in china, the kaiser, ever an opportunist, was justly angry, and pekin shuddered at the possibility of national castigation. "could the mighty one at berlin condone the offense if china gave germany a harbor to be used as coaling station and naval headquarters?" "possibly; but how can china bestow territory, in view of the american government's certainty to insist that there be no parceling of china, none whatever!" "easily managed," was the reply. "it need not be a transfer of territory, but a 'lease,' say for ninety-nine years. this would save china's 'face,' and not disturb the powers." hence a "lease" was prepared for all the territory bounded in a semi-circle drawn fifteen miles from kiau-chau bay--a goodly piece in all conscience. then came _pourparlers_ for greater german authority, and more territory. as a consequence, in a supplementary document signed at pekin, it was additionally agreed that "in a further zone thirty miles from all points of the leased territory the chinese government shall no longer for a space of ninety-nine years be entitled to take any step without previous authorization from the german government." this amounted in substance to saying farewell on china's part to a slice of domain in all more than twice the size of the state of rhode island. the "sphere of influence," so-called, measures , square miles. germany was given as well the equivalent of sovereignty over the harbor of kiau-chau, no end of mining and railway rights, and other privileges. the lease dates from march th, . england was to give wei-haiwei back to china should russia retire or be driven from port arthur, but has not done so. in all probability germany, as well as great britain, is located on the yellow sea under a tenure that will be found to be permanent. kiau-chau harbor is one of the most spacious and best protected on the coast of china. the small native town of tsing-tau, admirably situated on the harbor, was adopted by germany as the seat of government, and all the appurtenances of a military and naval station have there been erected. a look of permanency characterizes every structure. the house of the naval governor is even pretentious. the capital is laid out with generous regard to broad streets, designated on name-plates as "strasses." a bank and hotels await the coming of business. the harbor has been dredged, and two miles of the best wharves in asia constructed of masonry. warehouses, barracks, hospitals, administrative buildings and coal sheds are there, all in german style, and intended to last hundreds of years. tsing-tau as a seat of deputed government may not have found its way into school-books--but the inquisitive traveler in northeast china readily learns of its existence. perhaps it is meant to be complimentary to china to retain the name tsing-tau--but that is all about the place that is chinese, save the coolies executing the white man's behest. there are , europeans, almost exclusively germans, in william ii's capital on kiau-chau bay. soldiers and officials predominate, of course, but merchant and industrial experts are in the pioneer band in conspicuous number. and what of the "hinterland," compassed by the -mile semicircle, dotted with thirty odd native towns, the whole having a population of , , ? this patch of china is surely in process of being awakened: there are numerous schools wherein european missionaries are teaching the german language, and enterprise greets the eye everywhere. locomotives "made in germany" screech warnings to chinese yokels to clear the way for trains heavy with merchandise of german origin--and this is but an incident in the great scheme of germanizing the chinese empire. incidentally, it is provided by the agreement between the pekin and berlin governments that a native land-owner in the leased section can sell only to the german authorities. this ruling conveys a meaning perfectly clear. less than a hundred miles up-country are the enormous coal fields of weihsien and poshan, by agreement worked with german capital, and connected with the harbor by railways built with german money and so devoted to teutonic interests that the name of the company is spread on the cars in the language of the dear old fatherland. the whole is a magnificent piece of propagandism, surely. and what is back of it? what is the purpose of the appropriation of , , marks for kiau-chau in last year's official budget of the german government? trade, little else; and trade spelled best with a large t. kiau-chau is a free port, like hamburg. why not make it the hamburg of the east? is the question asked wherever german merchants foregather and affairs of the nation are discussed. from the standpoint of german trade, an eastern hamburg is alluring and laudatory--but few american manufactures, let it be plainly stated, will penetrate china through a gateway so controlled. america's seeming indifference to chinese trade, let it plainly be stated, is the only solace that commercial europe is finding in our wonderful national growth. the subject is almost never referred to in the columns of british journals, nor in those of germany, france, or belgium. but manufacturers and exporters of these countries need no spur from their newspapers--without the accompaniment of beating drums all are seeking to make the chinese their permanent customers. and, buttressed by undeniable advantages, japan takes up the quest and means to spread her goods, largely fabricated from uncle sam's raw products, wherever the tenant of the earth be a mongol. [illustration: chinese buddhist priests] could a human being be more complaisant, more materially philanthropic, than the united states manufacturer or other producer? he surely cannot be blind to the undebatable fact that america cannot always wax opulent on home trade alone; he must know that in time we are certain to reach a period of overproduction, when it will aid the nation to have alien peoples for customers of our mills and workshops. every land in asia east of singapore can be commercially exploited by the united states more easily, and with greater success, than by any other people, if the task be gone about systematically and practically. the chinese envoy of a few years ago to washington, minister wu, said many wise things, and no epigram fell from his lips containing a profounder sermon for the american people than when he remarked that two inches added to the length of the skirts of every chinese would double the market value of every pound of cotton. small as it was, our commerce in china was severely lessened last year, not alone by the boycott, but through the enterprise shown by other nations having a share in celestial trade. the cotton cloth exports of the united states to china and manchuria for the nine months ending september fell off by over ten million dollars as compared with the same period of . the respective amounts were $ , , and $ , , . the chinese buyers gave preference to the british, taking $ , , worth of cotton fabrics from the united kingdom for the first nine months of , a decrease of $ , , from last year. the british loss on bleached and gray goods was about half that of america's total loss, but the english exporters made up a large part of the shortage by much larger sales of printed and dyed goods. but while america remained almost stationary last year in selling cotton manufactures to the world, great britain made a tremendous stride. her cotton fabric exports for the first nine months of were valued at a little more than two hundred and seventy-six million dollars, an increase of about twenty million dollars over the same period of , and of nearly fifty million dollars over the first nine months of . this was accomplished almost wholly by marketing wares wrought from fiber grown in our southern states, let it be remembered. and what would happen to british trade, let us inquire, were america to cease exporting raw cotton, to permit our staple to emerge from our land in a manufactured state, only? the mere suggestion of the thing is sufficient to cause a cold shudder to play down the spinal column of john bull. but the american people will never play the game of commerce in that way. chapter xv japan's commercial future a nation has risen in the far east that is earning high place among enlightened governments, and in all probability the new-comer may already be entitled to permanently rank with the first-class powers of the earth. japan is day by day a growing surprise to the world. that the diminutive island empire should have been able to humble the muscovite pride was no greater marvel than that she should in a brief half-century advance from the position of a weak and unknown country to the station of a highly civilized nation. the government of the mikado is to-day the best exponent of asiatic progressiveness. and of a people with a capacity to perform in two generations such amazing things who shall dare say what to them is impossible? europe has never been in joyful mood over the rise in japanese prestige, and she was more than reluctant to recognize the new japan as the dominant force in the east. that a yellow people should claim fellowship with european countries guided by houses of lofty lineage was never believed to be possible. continental europe was unprepared to admit that japan's triumph proved anything beyond a genius in the art of war that was nothing short of a menace to the rest of mankind, and that luck and geographical position helped the mikado's legions in all ways. the great hohenzollern spoke of the japanese as the "scourge of god"; in france the "yellow peril"--a phrase really made in germany--was seriously debated; while russia many times sought sympathy from the christian world on the ground that she was fighting the white man's battle against paganism. solitary in her preference for the japanese, expressed in the form of an astute and fortunate alliance, england gloried when her oriental ally revealed the weakness of the vaunted power of the north that had dared to cast covetous eyes at india. all these nations hold asiatic possessions, each has aspired to have a say in chinese affairs, and each confesses to having a panacea for the innumerable ills of the celestial empire--each is hungry, likewise, to extend her trade with the awakening orient. japan intruded, and deranged the plans of all and sundry for rousing china to a realization of her greatness; and in all human probability japan will do for herself what several european powers wanted to do for asia. japan can always justify her claim that she was driven to war to preserve her national existence, by pointing to her rapidly-increasing population, existing in an archipelago incapable of producing food for even two thirds of her people, since every possibility of obtaining a foothold on the adjacent continent had been cut off by self-imposed russian rule. there was no room for expansion, that was clear. when japan shattered the strength of russia she gained many coveted advantages. one of these was the opportunity to commercialize neighboring korea, a goodly section of manchuria, and practically the whole of china--enough to recoup the war's outlay; and once entered upon, why not perfect and extend the enterprise wherever she might, thereby providing occupation for her increasing millions of people? for a long time to come japan will remain conspicuously in the public eye, but her achievements and victories hereafter are to be those of peace. her scheme for national betterment, already well under way, is as thoughtfully prepared as was her war program. the mikado's people emerged from the russian conflict with energies enormously aroused, and a few months later every condition was favorable to a realization of the dream of empire giving to japan an importance amounting almost to sovereignty over a vast section of the far east. the new treaty with great britain, which germans claimed to be anything but altruistic, is having a steadying influence on the policy of the tokyo government. with the conversion of japan from war to peace, the process of fiscal recuperation and industrial development has been observed by students of eastern affairs with the keenest interest. the debt of the nation at the close of the war in was approximately $ , , , which sum, apportioned among nippon's , , inhabitants, was $ . per capita. the amount properly chargeable to the campaign was $ , , , or thereabouts. a characteristic of the war commanding widespread attention was that the japanese side was conducted from start to finish on the soundest financial principles, with her credit abroad scarcely lessened by successive bond issues. it was the criticism of students of finance that japan conducted her campaign throughout on a gold basis, as if exploiting a vast commercial program, without subjecting herself to usurious commissions, and without resorting to the issuance of fiat or negligible currency. the financing of the asiatic side of the great russo-japanese conflict was certainly as businesslike as anything ever done by a european power compelled to raise funds by foreign bond sales. [illustration: bronze daibutsu at kamakura, japan] when a candid history of the war is penned, the writer must perforce acknowledge the "luck" attaching to japan when russia expelled the jews, and when thousands of that faith were ruthlessly slaughtered at kishineff. whether the purse-strings of the world are controlled by hebrew bankers may be a moot question, but it was a fact distinctly clear that japan could place her bonds in any money-lending country in the world, while russia could scarcely raise a rouble upon her foreign credit. even germany, the sentimental ally of russia, almost begged for the privilege of lending to japan. there was no disputing that the great hebraic banking houses of london, new york and frankfort found it an easy task to supply the mikado's country with every needed sinew of war, and the massacres of kishineff may have been avenged in a measure at port arthur and mukden. the ambitious and sturdy people of japan are indisposed to regard the war debt as an excessive burden, and it is their determination to treat their bonded obligations as a spur to active industry. it must be confessed that japan's debt is but a trifle less than that of the united states, and is carried at double the interest rates of the american debt; and further, that japan's total area is smaller than that of our state of california. the portentous aspect of the national obligation of japan is that it must absorb in interest charges fully a third of the empire's income for many years of peace and prosperity to come. a large part of the debt incurred before the war was for public works, most of which are productive. funds realized from early loans, both foreign and domestic, as well as a portion of the income from the indemnity earned by the war with china, were invested in commercial enterprises owned or fostered by the empire, and the government receives a considerable benefit from the public railways, tobacco monopoly, woolen mills, and a few other industrial ventures. the railways are extremely profitable, and the large sums spent in the creation of post-offices, telephone and telegraph lines, port facilities, etc., have proved wise investments. observers of national statistics have long known that a country without heavy indebtedness amounts to little in a worldly and industrial sense. abundantly solvent, france has a debt averaging $ . per person, and the united kingdom (great britain and ireland), a pro rata debt of $ . . portugal owes $ . per subject, holland $ . , and belgium $ . . the heaviest governmental obligation is that of australia, averaging $ . per inhabitant; and the lightest responsibility among important nations is that of the united states, gradually lessening, now standing at but $ . . our cuban neighbors, owing $ . per capita, make little complaint of fiscal burden. whether a debt be burdensome or otherwise depends as much upon the character of the people as upon natural resources. decaying portugal could not by industry liberate herself from pecuniary thraldom in a century, while the japanese probably could liquidate every obligation in fifteen years, were they pressed to do so. no country can present a better foundation for industrial and commercial development at this time than japan, and the signing at portsmouth of the peace agreement marked the beginning of an era of national growth that may challenge the admiration of the world as did the feats of arms of oyama and togo. the war cemented classes in japan almost to a condition of homogeneity--practically every subject of the mikado believed in the necessity for the conflict, and made sacrifices to contribute to the cost thereof. distinctions of class are now seldom thought of, and it contributes mightily to the material improvement of a nation to have a single language. the descendants of the samurai class acknowledge now the need for trade on a grand scale, and they are only too ready to embark in manufacturing and trading enterprises. there are scarcely ten great fortunes in the realm, and the number of subjects removed from activity by even moderate affluence is remarkably small. likewise, the number of persons reckoned in the non-producing class, through dissipation or infirmity, is insignificant. and, more potent than all these reasons uniting to assist in the expansion of japanese industry and thrift, is the intense patriotism of the people, stimulated by glorious success in two wars against foreign nations of overwhelming populations, as well as the recognition from high and low that japan's golden opportunity has arrived. almost to a man the japanese want to employ their sinews and intellect in elevating the land of the rising sun to an honored place among progressive nations. the japanese exchequer is at present a long way from depletion, by reason of the $ , , loan secured in america, england and germany. probably two thirds of this remained unexpended. many tokyo bankers believed the loan unnecessary, inasmuch as there were funds in hand sufficient to finance the war well into , had peace not been agreed upon. but the flotation was deemed wise, not alone because of prevailing ease in the money market, but for the effect that an oversubscribed loan in america and europe would have upon the czar's government. the portion of the loan remaining unused for war was employed for giving effect to japan's industrial propaganda, and presumably has been spent for the endless machinery demanded by the factories and shipyards that are transforming japan into a vast workshop, for structural metal, and for steel rails, cars and locomotives for railways in manchuria and korea; and generally for the hundred and one purposes playing a part in the development of lands hitherto out of step in the march of enterprise, and where strife has until recently stifled the usual manifestations of man's desire to improve his surroundings. the japanese government in purchased six railways, which were profit earners, paying for them $ , , in five per cent. bonds that may be redeemed in five years. there is no likelihood of a reduction in japan's debt for a long time, but its weight upon the people may be reduced by conversions. as the national credit strengthens, the interest on borrowings may be correspondingly decreased. consequently, there may be frequent funding operations and new issues, until seven and six per cent. bonds have given place to obligations bearing five per cent. interest or less. to provide funds for early railway building, considerable capital was borrowed at as high a rate as ten per cent. when these obligations expire all necessary money can be found in the country at less than half the original rate. japan is fortunate in having many sound financiers to invite to her official councils, and it is helpful to the country that tokyo and yokohama bankers are competent and progressive. these men pronounce japan's present financial position sound, and claim that the country can easily carry the existing debt. in natural resources japan is not well to do, it must be frankly said. examine the country in as friendly a spirit as one may, little is developed to support any statement that the country may become prosperous from the products of her own soil. in truth japan is nearly as unproductive as greece and norway, for only sixteen per cent. of her soil is arable. the mountain ranges and peaks and terraced hills that make the country scenically attractive to the tourist come near to prohibiting agriculture. the lowlands, separating seacoast from the foothills, and the valleys generally, are given over to rice culture, and these contribute largely towards sustaining the people. where valleys are narrow, and on hillside patches, cultivation is carried on wholly by hand. in recent years phosphates and artificial fertilizers have been encouraged by the government, and with the educational work now in hand science may give an increase of crops from the circumscribed tillable area. the country's forests cannot be sacrificed, and grazing lands for flocks and herds scarcely exist. a recent magazine writer, holding a doleful view of japan's agricultural condition, wholly overlooked the silk and tea crops in his search for native products, an error obviously fallen into through the fact that these are not raised on what governmental reports call "tillable ground,"--meaning that they are produced outside the sixteen per cent. arable area. silk is japan's important salable crop, two thirds of which is exported in its raw state. in the past few years the silk exports have averaged $ , , . japan grows the tea consumed in the country, and sends annually $ , , worth to market. if the rice crop might be exported it would realize $ , , each year. but no food may be sent abroad, for it is a sad fact that japan is capable of feeding only two thirds of her own people. it is necessary to import foodstuffs to the extent of about $ , , a year. the japanese benefit by the compensating supply of fish secured from the seas washing the shores of the island empire. when it is realized that japan's rapidly-growing population cannot be sustained by her soil and fisheries, the real reason for battling against russia's aggression on the mainland is understood, for ten years hence, japan's crowding millions, confined to her own islands, would experience the pangs of hunger. the mikado and his councilors foresaw this. [illustration: a garden view of the american embassy, tokyo] "having deposits of coal and iron, why may not japan be developed into the eastern equivalent of england?" ask stay-at-home admirers of the japanese, who believe that to them nothing is impossible. the mikado's territory has coal, iron and copper, it is true; but in no instance is the mineral present to an extent making it a national asset of importance. bituminous coal of good quality is mined at several points which is used by japanese commercial and naval vessels; but elsewhere in the east it has to compete with chinese and indian coals. it is said in nagasaki that her coal will last another two centuries, but were it mined on the scale of american and british coal it would be exhausted in a generation. the greatest efforts have been made to produce iron ore in paying quantities. in several instances public assistance has been lent to the industry, but seldom has a ton of ore been raised that has not cost twice its market value. japan is determined to become a producer of iron, and to this end a long lease had been secured on an important mineral tract in china, whose ore blends advantageously with mexican and californian hematite, while it is asserted that the government has secured in manchuria a seam of coal fifty feet in thickness, covered by a few feet of soil, that is contiguous to transportation, and which cannot be exhausted in hundreds of years. a valuable acquisition in conquered saghalien--not noted by the newspapers--is beds of coal and iron of vast area. these may enable japan, in her determination to become a manufacturing nation, to be eventually independent of other countries for basic supplies. but success in this direction is problematical, to say the least. for two thousand years japan has mined copper in a limited way, but the production of the metal is carried on at present without much profit. when the chinese government requires a vast quantity of copper the order is sent to the united states. japan cannot be considered as a producer of minerals of sufficient importance to aspire to a profitable career through them, for the yearly aggregate value of all minerals, including gold from the formosa mines, is not more than $ , , . the inevitable query in the reader's mind is, how is the jap, knowing it is now or never with him--and cognizant that he is poor in all save ambition and enterprise--going to create for his beloved nippon a position of prominence and security in the fast-rushing, selfish world? every intelligent japanese is aware of the slenderness of his country's resources, and yet every son of the chrysanthemum realm throbs with desire to see japan a first-class and self-supporting power, honored and respected throughout the universe. the japanese possess some quality of golden value, otherwise cautious capitalists in america and europe would never have lent them $ , , . what is it? japan's asset of importance is the awakened energy of her people--this was the soundest security back of the bond issues. it won the war over russia, and persons familiar with the japanese character believe it is now going to win commercially and industrially. better proof of this is not wanted than the fact that japanese bonds stood as firm as the rock of gibraltar on the world's exchanges when it became known that russia was to pay no indemnity. the information provoked street riots in tokyo, but japanese securities moved only fractionally in new york and london. two countries have long been keenly observed by enlightened japanese. they study america as a model industrial land, and get manufacturing ideas from us; but they look to great britain for everything having to do with empire, with aggrandizement, and with diplomacy. to them england is a glittering object lesson of a nation existing in overcrowded islands extending its rule to other lands and other continents, producing endless articles needed by mankind, and carrying these to the ends of the earth in their own ships. these japanese have perceived that the interchange of commodities between most countries of the globe is preponderatingly in the hands of the british--in fact, that the enterprise of british merchant or british ship-owner has placed practically the universe under tribute. may not insular japan become in time the asiatic equivalent of great britain? japan is advantageously located, and by common consent is now dominant in the far east. years ago england ceased to be an agricultural country, and the products of british workshops now buy food from other nations and allow for the keeping of a money balance at home. nature has decreed that japan can never be an agricultural land. why, then, may she not do what england has done? england has her india, pregnant with the earth's bounty, and her australia, yet awaiting completer development kingdom become the handmaiden of japan, without disturbing dynastic affairs, and primitive korea be a fair equivalent of the antipodean continent? it is known to be japan's plan to permanently colonize korea and manchuria, teeming in agricultural and mineral riches, with her surplus population. "prestige and opportunity make this attainable," insist the ambitious sons of japan; "and while it is probably too late to expand the political boundaries of our empire, we surely may make nippon the seat of a mighty commercial control, including in its sphere all of china proper, manchuria and korea--welding them into 'commercial colonies' of japan." this is precisely what the modern japanese wants his country to do, and this japanization of the far east is an alluring project, certainly. "but are not these 'open-door' countries, stipulated and guaranteed by the powers--meaning that your people can enjoy no special trade advantage in them?" the american asks the man of japan. "emphatically are they open to the trade and enterprise of all comers: but there are four potential advantages that accrue to the benefit of the japanese at this time--geographical position, necessity for recouping the cost of the war, an identical written language, and superabundance of capable and inexpensive labor. with these advantages and practical kinship we fear no rivalry in the creation of business among the mongol races," adds the man speaking for the new japan. it calls for little prescience to picture a mighty japanese tonnage on the seas in the near future. next to industrial development, the controlling article of faith of the awakened japan is the creation of an ocean commerce great enough to make the japanese the carriers of the orient. there can be nothing visionary in this, for bountiful asia is almost without facilities for conveying her products to the world's markets. indeed, were present-day japan eliminated from consideration, it would be precise to say that asia possessed no oversea transportation facilities. the merchant steamship is intended to play an important rôle in japan's elevation. shipping is to be fostered by the nation until it becomes a great industry, and it is the aim of the mikado's government to provide for constructing ships for the public defence up to , tons burden, and making the country independent of foreign yards through being able to produce advantageously commercial vessels for any requirement. japan is blind neither to the costliness of american-built ships nor to the remoteness of european yards. the war with russia was not half over when it was apparent that japan would not longer be dependent upon the outer world for vessels of war or of commerce. in the closing weeks of there was completed and launched in japan the biggest battleship in the world, the _satsuma_, constructed exclusively by native labor. she is of about the dimensions of the _dreadnaught_, of the british navy, but claimed to be her superior as a fighting force. the launching of the _satsuma_, witnessed by the emperor, was regarded as a great national event. in the war with china, twelve or thirteen years ago, japan had insufficient vessels to transport her troops. the astute statesmen at tokyo, recognizing the error of basing the transportation requirements of an insular nation upon ships controlled by foreigners, speedily drafted laws looking to the creation of a native marine which might be claimed in war time for governmental purposes. the bestowal of liberal bounties transformed japan in a few short years from owning craft of the junk class to a proprietorship of modern iron-built vessels of both home construction and foreign purchase. in the late campaign there was no comparison in the seamanship of the agile son of nippon and that of the hulking peasant of interior russia. the jap was proven time and again to be the equal of any mariner. native adaptability and willingness to conform to strict discipline, unite in making the japanese a seaman whose qualities will be telling in times of peace. of late years hundreds of clever young japanese have served apprenticeships in important shipyards in america, england, germany and france, with the result that there are to-day scores of naval architects and constructors in japan the equals of any in the world. whether as designers, yard managers or directors of construction, the japs, with their special schooling, have nothing to learn now from foreign countries. the genius of some of these men played a part in togo's great victory. japanese men of affairs pretend to see little difficulty in the way of their nation controlling the building of ships for use throughout the east. local yards are already constructing river gunboats and torpedo craft for the chinese government, and it is reasonable to believe that a year or two hence their hold upon the business will amount practically to a monopoly. british firms with yards at singapore, hong kong and shanghai are not rejoiced at the prospect of japanese rivalry. it is possible that, the japanese may become shipbuilders for our own philippine archipelago. already the shipyards of nippon are ringing with the sound of japan's upbuilding; and the plant of the mitsubishi company, at nagasaki--among the largest in the world,--has been enlarged to accommodate increasing demands. the enormous _minnesota_, of the great northern steamship company, was not so long ago repaired at nagasaki in a dry-dock having eighty feet in length to spare. japanese steamship lines already extend to europe, australia, bombay, eastern siberia, china, korea and saghalien, and to san francisco and puget sound ports. a company has been formed to develop a service between panama, the philippines and japanese ports, in anticipation of the completion of the panama canal: and, further perceiving the opportunity rapping at her door, japan is preparing to place a line on the ocean that will bring the wool, hides and grain of the river plate region to japanese markets at the minimum of expense. the undisguised purpose of this south-american venture is to get cheap wheat from argentina. rice eating in japan is giving way to bread made from wheat, or from a mixture of wheat and rice and other cereals. it is further known that japan is casting covetous eyes on the trade of brazil, and the line to the plate may be extended to brazilian ports. in japan had only , tons of merchant shipping; she has now upwards of a million tons, represented by , registered vessels. almost half the steamers entering japanese ports fly the flag of the rising sun, and japan's tonnage at this time is greater than that of russia, austria, sweden, spain, denmark or holland. in the matter of oversea tonnage, japan is far ahead of the united states. one fleet of japanese mail steamers, the nippon yusen kaisha, whose president, rempei kondo, is one of japan's most progressive men, is numerically and in tonnage larger than any ocean line under the stars and stripes. it has seventy ships, aggregating , tons. a dozen of its vessels, making the service between yokohama and london, are fourteen-knot ships. [illustration: japanese junk, or cargo boat] these facts should be considered by every american complacently believing that the traffic of the countries and islands washed by the pacific is open to american enterprise whenever we bid for it. when eastern trade develops in magnitude, it may be found that the japanese have laid permanent hold upon its carriage and interchange. john bull, be it remembered, drove the american merchantman from the atlantic; and likewise japan may capture the carrying business of the pacific. it must be obvious that the nation controlling the transportation of the far east will seek to control its trade: and it is sounding no false alarm to cite facts and conditions showing that the awakening lands of eastern asia have more in store for energetic japan than for the united states, now fattening inordinately on home trade--when overproduction comes, as it surely will, it then may be found difficult to supplant another people in the occupation of conveying american commodities to eastern markets. there are persons in the orient, none too friendly to america, who expect to see the commercial flag of japan paramount on the pacific eight or ten years hence. if it be conceded that japan will absorb the bulk of the shipping of the pacific as it develops, valid reasons for fearing japan as the trade competitor of the united states do not exist. unquestionably japan is to exploit the industry of her people; but the same poverty of resources making this imperative insures for uncle sam a valuable partnership in the program. japan is bristling with workshops and mills in which a hundred forms of handiwork will be developed--and in a majority of these the adaptive labor of the empire will fabricate, from materials drawn from america, scores of forms of merchandise, which the japanese propaganda will distribute throughout china, manchuria, korea and japan--the "great japan," british publicists are calling it. methods, materials, machinery, tools--all will be american. having made no systematic appeal for the trade of the far east in its broadest sense, america enjoys but small share of it. in the past few years our exports to japan, however, have grown rapidly--chiefly in raw cotton and other unmanufactured materials. with japanese selling agents canvassing lands inhabited by a half billion people, the products of america are to have enhanced consumption. this trade in mongol countries, although vicarious, may run to large dimensions. the leading item of japan's industrial promotion program is to become manufacturer of a goodly portion of the textiles worn in her vast "sphere of commerce." the japanese have seen that the british isles, growing not a pound of cotton, spin and weave the staple for half the people of the earth, and wish to profit by the example of their prosperous ally. to this end, cotton mills have sprung into being throughout japan, in which american-grown fiber is transformed by the cheapest competent labor in the world into fabrics sold to china's and japan's millions. it is certain that the controlling manufacture of japan will be cotton, and the production of woolen cloths may come next. it is interesting to know that japan increased the value of her exports of cotton manufactures to china from $ , in to $ , , in . "why not fabricate her own raw silk, and send it to market ready for wear?" asks the foreigner reluctant to believe that japan can hope to compete with lancashire in the spinning of cotton. the answer is simple--it is because america is the principal purchaser of the raw article. were it brought across the pacific in manufactured form, the duty on it would be almost prohibitive; in its unwrought state it enters the country free. great progress must be made before japanese business may be considered a "menace" to any nation enjoying eastern trade, for the yearly value of japan's manufactures is now only about $ , , , an average of about $ per capita of the population. america has single cities that produce more. the combined capital of all organized industrial, mining, shipping, banking and agricultural undertakings in japan is $ , , , or less than half the capital of the united states steel corporation. the mikado's empire is bound to great britain by a political alliance of unusual force, but industrial japan must of necessity be linked to the united states by commercial ties even stronger. distance between europe and japan, and excessive suez canal tolls, give unassailable advantage to the united states as purveyor of unwrought materials to the budding new england of the far east. the custom of speaking of our friends of the island empire as "the little japanese," is a fault that should be promptly mended. japan is small, it is true, but the people are numerous to the point of wonderment. consequently, it can do no harm to memorize these facts: that japan has an area actually , square miles greater than the british isles, and , , more inhabitants; in other words, the population of japan is , , , while that of great britain and ireland is but , , . that japan's population exceeds that of france by , , , of italy by , , , and of austro-hungary by nearly , , . that outside of asia there are but three countries in all the world with greater populations than japan--russia, the united states, and germany. there was reason for calling the jap the "yankee of the east," or the "englishman of the orient," for otherwise the phrases could not have been forced into popular use. it is the judgment of many who have studied the japanese at close range that they are endowed with attributes of mind and body which make them equal, man for man, with the people of america and great britain. asiatic though they are, it will be unwise to permit the brain to become clogged with the idea that they are "asiatics" in the popular acceptance of the word. the japan of the present is the antithesis of "asiatic," and the japan of the near future promises to be a country best measured by western standards. the japanese are athirst for knowledge, and impatient for the time to arrive when the world will estimate them at their intellectual value, and forget to speak of them as the little "yellow" men of the east. this is manifested to a visitor many times every day. their greatest craving is to know english, not merely well enough to carry on trade advantageously, but to read understandingly books that deal with the moderate sciences, and other works generally benefiting. yokohama and tokyo possess a score of establishments where practically every important volume of instruction, whether it be english or american, is reproduced in inexpensive form, and widely sold. for many years english has been taught in japan's schools, but thousands of boys and men in cities and towns are each year acquiring the language by study in odd hours. examine the dog-eared pamphlet in the hands of the lad assisting in the shop where you are purchasing something, and you are almost certain to find it an elementary english book. merchants know english well, as a rule; but with many of them the desire for knowledge is not satisfied with the acquisition of english--they desire to know other languages. in yokohama i know a merchant of importance whose english is so good that one is drawn to inquire where he learned it. the answer will be that he studied odd hours at home and when not serving customers. and the visitor may further be informed by this man that he is also studying german and french. a teacher of german goes to his house at six o'clock each morning and for two hours drills him in the language. then, in the evening, after a long day spent at business, a french teacher instructs him in the graceful language of france. and this merchant is but a type of thousands of japanese who are daily garnering knowledge. it is a pleasing incident for the visitor from america to read of a meeting in the japanese capital of the local yale alumni association--quite as pleasing as to see base-ball played in every vacant field convenient to a large town. returning schoolboys have carried the game home to their companions, and in the voyage across the pacific it has lost none of its fine points. for thirty years and longer the japs have been learning english with the industry of beavers. and ambition has been responsible for this, the dogged determination to be somebody, and the patriotic wish to see japan stand with the progressive nations of the earth. the power to keep such a people down does not exist. preparation is a subject never absent from the thoughts of the japanese. it was preparation that gave them victory after victory over the creatures of the czar. now they are fairly launched upon a brilliant career in trade and commerce. but japan can merely fabricate our raw materials, thereby occupying a field in asia that up to now uncle sam has made no determined effort to secure. index agra, indian city of unrivaled interest, ; its taj mahal, - ambir, old capital of jeypore state, america, interest in suez canal as forerunner of panama, ; flag not represented by commercial vessel at suez in generation, ; president roosevelt's insistence for panama canal, ; value of oriental trade, , ; cotton of wrought in england, ; trifling exports of manufactured articles, ; diminutive trade with south america, ; desirability of trade extension in east, ; government's tariff at panama, ; how to make panama canal pay indirectly, ; demand for creation of merchant marine, ; to have , , inhabitants when canal is completed, ; commercial supremacy without merchant marine, ; government's insistence on "open door" in china, ; seeming indifference to chinese trade, ; waning cotton exports to china, , arabi, rebellion of, resulting in control of egypt by great britain, ; kandy, place of his exile, arjamand, consort of shah jahan, for whom taj mahal was erected, benares, headquarters of hindu religion, - ; burning ghat and cremations, - ; monkey temple, - bombay, headquarters of parsees, ; a city gone sport-mad, , ; race meeting at, , important cotton port, superb railway station, buddhism, kandy the mecca of the faith, ; tenets of faith, , ; reputed tooth of buddha, , , ; pilgrims to kandy, , ; cremation, calcutta, - ; hooghly pilots, ; job charnock, founder of, , ; under lord curzon's viceroyship, , canals, no more inter-ocean canals possible, canton, unique and important commercial city, - ; strenuous and monopolistic guide, ; street scenes and experiences, , ; executions, ; funeral procession, , ; educational center, ; educational examinations, , ; "literary poles," , ; boat-life on river front, , ; leper village and boat toll, caste, rodiya people of ceylon, , , ; british rule recognizes no distinctions of, ; as seen in bombay, ; hereditary throughout india, ; man servant who could not carry his own packages, , , ceylon, where "only man is vile," cingalese, , ; area, population, and races, ; england's conquest of, ; railways, ; exports, ; elephant kraal, , ; an island paradise, ; the cadjan, , ; tea as "king crop," ; when coffee was chief crop, ; details of tea cultivation, , china, singapore and hong kong as places of residence for chinese, , ; cession of hong kong to british, ; canton, unique city, - ; macao, monte carlo of east, - ; love of fan-tan by chinese, ; germany's play for trade prestige, - ; land of meager commodities, ; what her "awakened" trade would mean, ; germany's colony of kiau-chau, - ; america and chinese trade, - ; plans for rousing country, colombia, loss of isthmian territory, through panama canal scheme, colombo, approach to harbor, ; landing jetty, ; port of call between occident, orient and australasia, ; medley of races, ; westernmost limit of 'rickshaws, ; hotels, , ; population, ; clapham junction of east, ; route to kandy, cotton, bombay as port, ; great britain and america as manufacturers, - ; expansion of fabrication in japan, curzon, former viceroy of india, , ; splendor of rule at calcutta, de lessep's craving for greatness, ; obtains concession for constructing suez canal, ; raising money for canal scheme, ; death of, in madhouse, ; monument at port said, egypt, loss of self-rule through suez canal construction, ; date of suez canal concession, ; no debt when concession given, ; to subscribe nothing for construction of suez canal, ; arabi rebellion, resulting in british control of egypt, ; deriving no advantage through canal, france, how bankers of, lost controlling suez shares, , ; susceptibilities of, how preserved in suez management, ; ally of russia, germany, second in list of suez patrons, ; kaiser's fight for new markets, ; friendship for russia in war, - ; kaiser's play for chinese trade, - ; emperor as trade lord, , ; kaiser's disapproval of monroe doctrine, ; plans for capturing oriental business, ; subsidized steamship service with east, ; "leased" colony of kiau-chau, great britain, benefits accruing from suez canal, ; how control was secured, ; preponderance of flag over suez traffic, ; control of interior of ceylon, ; rule in, asia recognizing no caste distinctions, ; restoration of taj mahal by government of, ; job charnock, founder of calcutta, and pioneer empire-builder, , ; great work in india. ; penang, ; singapore, universal sea-port brought to empire by sir stamford raffles, ; hong kong, important port and naval base, - ; no permanent control of eastern business, ; tenure of wei-hai-wei, hinduism, orthodoxy of maharajah of jeypore, , ; animal sacrifices to goddess kali, , - ; benares, head of religion, - ; scenes on banks of sacred ganges. - ; cremation of dead, - ; incomprehensibleness of merits of, , ; habits of speech of illiterate, ; curse of widowhood in india, hong kong, island link in britain's chain, ; rains, , ; city wrested from mountain side, ; cession from china, ; guarding northern entrance to china sea, , ; population and traffic, ; happy valley race-course, , ; benefits and pitfalls of the chit, , ; convenience of bills of fare, india, bombay and its parsees, - ; scenes at bombay race meeting, , ; caste, , ; people not readily convinced of advantage of modern implements, , ; jeypore, - ; ambir, old capital of jeypore, ; agra and taj mahal, - ; benares, fountainhead of hindu religion, - ; calcutta, capital of british india, - ; viceroyship of lord curzon, , ; viscount kitchener, head of army, , ; facts and figures of, , , ; the "l. g." of bengal, ismail, khedive, lured into assisting suez scheme, ; prodigality of, ; personal holding of suez securities, jahan, shah, builder of taj mahal, , ; interment beside wife's grave, japan, commercial future, - ; best exponent of asiatic progress, ; "scourge of god" and "yellow peril" of german origin, ; advantages secured by defeating russia, ; process of industrial development, ; national debt, , , ; homogeneity of people, ; resources, - ; desire to emulate england, ; why country can exploit near-by lands advantageously, ; mighty tonnage on pacific, , ; shipbuilding, , ; no real "menace" to american trade, ; athirst for knowledge, - jeypore, capital of maharajah of, - ; fondness of women for jewelry, ; benevolent ruler of, , ; astronomical apparatus of jai singh, kandy, ancient capital of ceylon, ; journey from colombo, ; city of buddha's tooth, ; buddhist pilgrims to, , ; natural beauty of, ; atrocities of a king of, ; british rule of, ; peradeniya tropical garden, , , , ; executive seat of ceylon's tea industry, , , kitchener, viscount, commander-in-chief of indian army, , macao, journey to portuguese colony from canton, ; pioneer european settlement in east, ; eastern monte carlo, , - ; political refuge, ; camoens, - manar, pearling-ground of gulf of, ; advertisements announcing a fishery, , ; period of, ; scene on banks during a fishery, , ; profit of fishery, marichchikkaddi, pearl metropolis of, , , , , ; how reached from colombo, ; population, ; fishing fleet, , ; scenes in camp and at kottu, , ; where oysters pass current as money, ; selling the oysters at auction, , , ; health of camp, ; illustration of white man's rule, , merchant marine, necessity for creation of, ; american commercial supremacy without help of, panama canal, antiquity of project, ; president roosevelt's insistence for, ; use of, by south american shipping, ; drawing traffic from east of singapore, ; vast eastern area to be served by, ; destined to make america trade-arbiter of world, ; prediction of cost of construction and maintenance, ; question of annual tonnage, parsees, their home in bombay, ; followers of zoroaster, ; towers of silence and method of disposing of dead, , , pearls, swedish, chinese and japanese methods of inducing pearl formation, ; indian and cingalese expert dealers, ; indian grandees chief buyers of, pearl-fishing, scene of, in gulf of manar, ; description of, , , ; professor hornell's theories, ; divers, , ; the shark-charmer, , , ; time of divers under water, , scene on manar banks, , devices for stealing pearls, process by which pearls are extracted from oysters, , penang, leading tin port of world, raffles, sir stamford, pioneer of singapore, russia, friendship of germany during war, - ; benefit to have accompanied victory over japan, saïd, viceroy, date of giving suez concession, singapore, a turnstile of commerce, ; universal character of, south america, use of panama by carrying trade of, ; trifling imports from united states, ; importance of exports to united states, suez canal, antiquity of project, , ; persian oracle's warning against, ; personages who had considered, ; to pay egyptian treasury part of proceeds, , ; ismail's interest in scheme, ; perpetuation of names of egyptian rulers, ; simplicity of construction and cost of, ; international character of, ; disraeli's purchase of control for great britain, ; physical statistics of, ; tariff of, , ; value to world's commerce, ; statistics of tonnage and income, ; average daily use of, ; european shippers' choice of canals, ; shareholders in no fear of panama competition, taj mahal, tomb of arjamand, wife of shah jahan, and world's most exquisite building, - ; cost of, ; burial-place of shah jahan, ; restorations by british government, tea, cultivation in ceylon, , widowhood, curse of indian, transcriber's notes: in the original text, contractions had a space at the word break, e.g. "would n't, does n't, i 'm". in this ebook, such spaces have been removed. pg. , added missing period (a stove-polish advertisement.) pg. , inserted missing period. (growing surprise to the world.) index entry "america, interest in panama....", stated page number was " " which is a blank page. page number changed to " " where content appears to match. index entry "china, america and chinese trade", stated page numbers were " - " but " " is a blank page. page number " " changed to " " where content appears to match. index entry "france, ally of russia", stated page numbers were " , ". changed to " " where content appears to match. index entry "hong kong, happy valley racecourse", stated page numbers were " " and " ", but " " is a blank page. page number " " changed to " " where content appears to match. index entry "japan, homogeneity of people", stated page is " " but content begins on " ". page number changed to " ". index entry "kandy, peradeniya tropical garden", last of the page numbers was " " which is an unrelated illustration. the age number " " changed to " " where content appears to match. index entry "kandy, executive seat of ceylon's tea industry", last of the page numbers is " " which has no relevant content. page number " " changed to " " where content appears to match. index entry "suez canal, disraeli's purchase of control for great britain", stated page number was " " which is an unrelated illustration. page number " " changed to " " where content appears to match. index entry "suez canal, physical statistics of", stated page number is " " which is a blank page. page number " " changed to " " where content appears to match. index entry "suez canal, tariff of", first of stated page numbers is " " which is a blank page. age number " " changed to " " where content appears to match. the critic in the orient [illustration: the taj mahal at agra. this tomb, built by shah jahan to immortalize his favorite wife, is conceded to be the most beautiful building in the world "matchless, perfect in form, a miracle of grace and tenderness and symmetry, pearl-pure against the sapphire of the sky"] the critic in the orient george hamlin fitch author of "comfort found in good old books" "modern english books of power" "the critic in the occident" east is east and west is west and never the twain shall meet, till earth and sky stand presently at god's great judgment seat. --kipling illustrated from photographs paul elder and company publishers · san francisco _copyright, _ by paul elder and company the chapters of this book appeared originally in the sunday supplement of the san francisco _chronicle_. the privilege of reproducing them here is due to the courtesy of m. h. de young, esq. the author is greatly indebted to isaac o. upham, esq., for the fine photographs which illustrate the section on japan and for several photographs of indian scenes to my fellow tourists on the minnesota, whose companionship made many tedious journeys by land and sea enjoyable contents page introduction ix the best results of travel in the orient xiii japan, the picture country of the orient first impressions of japan and the life of the japanese-- the japanese capital and its parks and temples--the most famous city of temples in all japan--in kyoto, the ancient capital of japan--kobe, osaka, the inland sea and nagasaki--development of the japanese sense of beauty--conclusions on japanese life and character-- will the japanese retain their good traits? manila, transformed by the americans first impressions of manila and its picturesque people-- american work in the philippine islands--scenes in the city of manila and suburbs. hongkong, canton, singapore and rangoon hongkong, the greatest british port in the orient--a visit to canton in days of wild panic--singapore, the meeting place of many races--strange night scenes in the city of singapore--characteristic sights in burma's largest city. india, the land of temples, palaces and monuments calcutta, the most beautiful of oriental cities--bathing, and burning the dead at benares--lucknow and cawnpore, cities of the mutiny--the taj mahal, the world's loveliest building--delhi and its ancient mohammedan ruins--scenes in bombay when the king arrived--religion and customs of the bombay parsees. egypt, the home of hieroglyphs, tombs and mummies picturesque oriental life as seen in cairo--among the ruins of luxor and karnak--tombs of the kings at ancient thebes--sailing down the nile on a small steamer--before the pyramids and the sphinx. hints for travelers some suggestions that may save the tourist time and money. bibliography books which help one to understand the orient and its people. index illustrations page the taj mahal at agra _frontispiece_ the yomei-mori gate, ieyasu temple, nikko _facing_ the daibutsu or great bronze buddha at hyogo imperial gate, fort santiago, manila the city of boats at canton hindoos bathing in the ganges at benares front view of the taj mahal, agra one of the main avenues of bombay the great hypostyle hall at karnak plates plate japan _following page_ street scene, asakusa park, tokyo i entrance hall of modern home of a tokyo millionaire ii bronze lanterns and sacred fountain, shiba temple, tokyo iii sacred red bridge at nikko iv avenue of cryptomeria to futaaru temple, nikko v avenue of cryptomeria trees, near nikko vi great bronze torii, nikko vii stone lanterns, kasuga temple park, nara viii religious procession, kyoto ix scene on canal, kyoto x street scene in kobe xi a group of japanese schoolboys xii japanese peasant group by the roadside xiii scene in large private garden, kyoto xiv iris bed at horikiri, near tokyo xv private garden, kamakura xvi manila _following page_ a glimpse of the escolta, manila xvii old church and bridge at pasig xviii the binondo canal at manila xix on the malecon drive, manila xx view on a manila canal xxi a filipino peasant girl on the way to market xxii the carabao cart in the philippines xxiii the nipa hut of the filipino xxiv hongkong, canton, singapore, rangoon _following page_ queen's road in hongkong. xxv flower market in a hongkong street xxvi coolies carrying burdens at hongkong xxvii the spacious foreign bund at hongkong xxviii chinese junks in hongkong harbor xxix view of the water-front at canton xxx the new chinese bund at canton xxxi a confucian festival at singapore xxxii a main street in the native quarter of singapore xxxiii the y. m. c. a. building at singapore xxxiv the great shwe dagon pagoda at rangoon xxxv entrance to the shwe dagon pagoda xxxvi burmese worshipping in the pagoda at rangoon xxxvii riverside scene at rangoon xxxviii trained elephant piling teak at rangoon xxxix palm avenue, royal lakes, rangoon xl india _following page_ one of the main gates to government house, calcutta xli a street scene in calcutta xlii the great burning ghat at benares xliii view of the bathing ghats at benares xliv a holy man of benares under his umbrella xlv the residency at lucknow xlvi tomb of itmad-ul-daulet at agra xlvii the mutiny memorial at cawnpore xlviii detail of carving in the jasmine tower, agra xlix the jasmine tower in agra fort l snap-shot of a jain family at agra li the fort at agra which encloses many palaces lii kutab minar, the arch and the iron pillar, near delhi liii shah jehan's heaven on earth, delhi liv street view in delhi lv a parsee tower of silence at bombay lvi egypt _following page_ a typical street in old cairo lvii an arab cafe in one of cairo's streets lviii women water carriers in turkish costume lix the rameseon at karnak lx the avenue of sphinxes at karnak lxi an arab village on the nile lxii the colossi of memnon, near thebes lxiii the great sphinx, showing the temple underneath lxiv introduction this book of impressions of the far east is called "the critic in the orient," because the writer for over thirty years has been a professional critic of new books--one trained to get at the best in all literary works and reveal it to the reader. this critical work--a combination of rapid reading and equally rapid written estimate of new publications--would have been deadly, save for a love of books, so deep and enduring that it has turned drudgery into pastime and an enthusiasm for discovering good things in every new book which no amount of literary trash was ever able to smother. after years of such strenuous critical work, the mind becomes molded in a certain cast. it is as impossible for me to put aside the habit of the literary critic as it would be for a hunter who had spent his whole life in the woods to be content in a great city. so when i started out on this trip around the world the critical apparatus which i had used in getting at the heart of books was applied to the people and the places along this great girdle about the globe. much of the benefit of foreign travel depends upon the reading that one has done. for years my eager curiosity about places had led me to read everything printed about the orient and the south seas. add to this the stories which were brought into a newspaper office by globe trotters and adventurers, and you have an equipment which made me at times seem to be merely revising impressions made on an earlier journey. when you talk with a man who has spent ten or twenty years in japan or china or the straits settlements, you cannot fail to get something of the color of life in those strange lands, especially if you have the newspaper training which impels you to ask questions and to drag out of your informant everything of human interest that the reader will care to know. this newspaper instinct, which is developed by training but which one must possess in large measure before he can be successful in journalism, seizes upon everything and transmutes it into "copy" for the printer. to have taken this journey without setting down every day my impressions of places and people would have been a tiresome experience. what seemed labor to others who had not had my special training was as the breath in my nostrils. even in the debilitating heat of the tropics it was always a pastime, never a task, to put into words my ideas of the historic places which i knew so well from years of reading and which i had just seen. and the richer the background of history, the greater was my enjoyment in painting with words full of color a picture of my impressions, for the benefit of those who were not able to share my pleasure in the actual sight of these famous places of the far east. from the mass of newspaper letters written while every impression was sharp and clear, i have selected what seemed to me most significant and illustrative. it is only when the traveler looks back over a journey that he gets the true perspective. then only is he able to see what is of general and permanent interest. most of the vexations of travel i have eliminated, as these lose their force once they have gone over into yesterday. what remains is the beauty of scenery, the grandeur of architecture, the spiritual quality of famous paintings and statues, the appealing traits of various peoples. the best results of travel in the orient the best results of travel in the orient this volume includes impressions of the first half of a trip around the world. the remainder of the journey will fill a companion volume, which will comprise two chapters devoted to new york and the effect it produced on me after seeing the great cities of the world. as i have said in the preface, these are necessarily first impressions, jotted down when fresh and clear; but it is doubtful whether a month spent in any of these places would have forced a revision of these first glimpses, set in the mordant of curiosity and enthusiasm. when the mind is saturated with the literature of a place, it is quick to seize on what appeals to the imagination, and this appeal is the one which must be considered in every case where there is an historical or legendary background to give salient relief to palace or temple, statue or painting. without this background the noblest work seems dull and lifeless. with it the palace stamps itself upon the imagination, the temple stirs the emotions, the statue speaks, the painting has a direct spiritual message. certain parts of the orient are not rich in this imaginative material which appeals to one fond of history or art; but this defect is compensated for by an extraordinary picturesqueness of life and a wonderful luxuriance of nature. the oriental trip also makes less demand on one's reading than even a hasty journey through europe. there are few pictures, few statues. only india and egypt appeal to the sense of the historical, japan stands alone, alien to all our ways of life and thought, but so intensely artistic, so saturated with the intellectual spirit that it seems to belong to another world than this material, commercial existence that stamps all european and american life. the new china furnishes an attractive field of study, but unfortunately when i visited the country it was in the throes of revolution and travel was dangerous anywhere outside the great treaty ports. one of the best results of foreign travel is that it makes one revise his estimate of alien races. when i started out it was with a strong prejudice against the japanese, probably due to my observation of some rather unlovely specimens whom i had encountered in san francisco. a short stay in japan served to give me a new point of view in regard to both the people and the country of the mikado. it was impossible to escape from the fact that here is a race which places loyalty to country and personal honor higher than life, and this sentiment was not confined to the educated and wealthy classes but was general throughout the nation. here also is a people so devoted to the culture of beauty that they travel hundreds of miles to see the annual chrysanthemum and other flower festivals. and here is a people so devoted to art for art's sake that even the poor and uneducated have little gardens in their back yards and houses which reveal a refined taste in architecture and decoration. the poorest artisans are genuine artists and their work shows a beauty and a finish only to be found in the work of the highest designers in our country. in one chapter of the section on japan, i have dwelt on the ingenious theory that it is their devotion to the garden that has kept the japanese from being spoiled by the great strides they have made in the last twenty years in commerce and conquest. to take foremost place among the powers of the world without any preliminary struggle is an achievement which well might turn the heads of any people; yet this exploit has simply confirmed the japanese in the opinion that their national training has resulted in this success that other nations have won only by the expenditure of years of labor and study. when you see the reverence which every one in japan shows at the tombs of the forty-seven ronins, you feel that here is a spiritual force which is lacking in every european country; here is something, whether you call it loyalty or patriotism or fanaticism, which makes even the women and children of japan eager to sacrifice all that they hold most dear on the altar of their country. no less striking than their loyalty is the courtesy of the japanese which makes travel in their country a pleasure. even the poor and ignorant country people show in their mutual relations a politeness that would do credit to the most civilized race, while all exhibit toward foreigners a courtesy and consideration that is often repaid by boorishness and insult on the part of tourists and foreign residents of japan. another feature of japanese life that cannot fail to impress the stranger is the small weight that is given to wealth. in their relations with foreigners the governing class and the wealthy people are sticklers for all the conventional forms; but among themselves the simplicity of their social life is very attractive. elaborate functions are unknown and changes of costume, which make women's dress so large an item of family expense in any european country, are unnecessary. some of the rich japanese are now lavishing money on their homes, which are partly modeled on european plans; but in the main the residences, even of rich people, are very simple and unpretentious. these homes are filled with priceless porcelains, jades, paintings and prints, but there is no display merely for the sake of exhibiting art treasures. in manila the american tourist has a good opportunity to contrast what has been done by his countrymen with what the british have accomplished in ports like hongkong and singapore. doubtless the english plan will show the larger financial returns, but it is carried out with a selfish disregard of the interests of the natives which stirs the gorge of an american. the englishman believes in keeping a wide gulf between the dominant and the humble classes. he does not believe in educating the native to think that he can rise from the class in which he is born. the american scheme in the philippines has been to encourage the development of character and efficiency, wherever found; and the result is that many public positions are open to men who were head-hunting savages ten years ago. above all other things in the philippines we have proved, as we have shown at panama, that a tropical climate need not be an unhealthful one. we have banished from manila cholera, yellow fever and bubonic plague--three pests that once made it dreaded in the orient. this, with an ample water supply, is an achievement worthy of pride, when one contrasts it with the unsanitary sewerage system of hongkong and singapore. the small part of the great chinese empire which i was able to see gave me a vivid impression of the activity and enthusiasm of the people in spreading the new republican doctrines. the way old things have been put aside and the new customs adopted seems almost like a miracle. fancy a whole people discarding their time-honored methods of examination for the civil service, along with their queues, their caps and their shoes. all the authorities have predicted that china would be centuries in showing the same changes which the japanese have made in a single generation; but recent events go far to prove that japan will be outstripped in the race for progress by its slow-going neighbor. what profoundly impresses any visitor to china is the stamina and the working capacity of the common people. tireless laborers these chinese are, whether they work for themselves or the european. what they will be able to accomplish with labor-saving machinery no one can predict. certainly should they accept modern methods of work, with the same enthusiasm that they have adopted new methods of government, the markets of the world will be upset by the product of these four hundred million. china is to-day in transformation--fluctuant, far-reaching, limited only by the capacity of a singularly excitable people to absorb new ideas. in india great is the contrast to china and japan. here is an old civilization, founded on caste: here are many peoples but all joined to the worship of a system that says the son must follow in the footsteps of the father; that one cannot break bread with a stranger of another caste lest he and his tribe be defiled. nothing more hideous was ever conceived than this indian caste system, yet it has held its own against the force of foreign learning and probably will continue to fetter the development of the natives of india for centuries to come. some simple reforms the english have secured, like the abolition of suttee and the improved condition of the child widows; but their influence on the great mass of the people has been pitiably small. india bears the same relation to the orient that italy does to europe. it is the home of temples, palaces and monuments; it is the land of beautiful art work in many materials. most of its cities have a splendid historical past that is seen in richly ornamented temples and shrines, in the tombs of its illustrious dead and in palaces that surpass in beauty of decoration anything which europe can boast. in considering india it must always be borne in mind that here was the original seat of the aryan civilization and that, though the hindoo is as dark as many of the american negroes, he is of aryan stock like ourselves. in comparison with the men who carried aryan civilization throughout the world, the hindoo of to-day is as far removed as is the modern greek from the greek of the time of pericles and phidias. yet he shows all the signs of race in clear-cut features and in small hands and feet. the journey throughout india is one which calls for some philosophy, as the train arrangements are never good and, unless one has the luck to secure a competent guide, he will be annoyed by the excessive greed of every one with whom he comes in contact. but aside from such troubles the trip is one which richly repays the traveler. if one has time it is admirable to go off the beaten track to some of the minor places which have fine historical remains; but a good idea of india may be obtained by taking the regular route from calcutta to bombay, by way of delhi. in benares the tourist first meets the swarms of beggars that make life a burden. aged men, with loathsome sores, stand whining at corners beseeching the favor of a two-anna piece; blind men, led by small, skinny children, set up a mournful wail and then curse you fluently when you pass them by, and scores of children rise up out of hovels at the roadside and pursue your carriage with shrill screams. all are filthy, clamorous, greedy, inexpressibly offensive. if you are soft hearted and give to one, then your day is made hideous by a swarm of mendicants, tireless in pursuit and only kept from actual invasion of the carriage by fear of the driver's whip. the feature which makes travel on indian railways a weariness of the flesh is the roughness of the cars. each truck on the passenger cars is provided with two large wheels, exactly like those on freight cars, and these wheels have wooden felloes and spokes. with poor springs the result is that though the road-bed is perfect the cars are as rough as our freight cars. when the speed is over twenty-five miles an hour or the road is crooked, the motion of the cars is well nigh intolerable. ordinarily the motion is so great that reading is difficult and writing out of the question. at night the jar of the car is so severe that one must be very tired or very phlegmatic to get any refreshing sleep. when one travels all day and all night at a stretch--as in the journey from jeypore to bombay--the fatigue is out of all proportion to the distance covered. in fact americans have been spoiled by the comforts of pullman sleeping-cars, in which foreign critics find so many flaws. probably the chief annoyance to our party of americans, aside from the jar of the cars, was the dust and soot which poured in day and night. the engines burn soft coal and the dust on the road-beds is excessive. a system of double windows and well-fitting screens would remove this nuisance, but apparently the british in india think dust and grime necessary features of railway travel, for no effort is made to eliminate them. no oriental trip would be complete without a visit to egypt, and especially a ride on the nile. it is more difficult to make anyone realize the charm of egypt than of any other country of the orient. the people are dirty, ignorant, brutish: their faces contain no appeal because they are the faces of millet's "the man with the hoe." centuries of subjection have killed the pride which still lingers in the face and bearing of the poorest arab; the egyptian peasant does not wear the collar of gurth, but he is a slave of the soil whose day of freedom is afar off. yet these degenerate people are seen against a background of the most imposing ruins in the world. luxor and karnak and the tombs of the kings near old thebes contain enough remains of the splendor of ancient egyptian life to permit study for years. the mind is appalled by this mass of temples, monuments, obelisks and colossal statues. it is difficult to realize that the same people who are seen toiling in the fields to-day raised these huge monuments to perpetuate the names of their rulers. a climate as dry as that of the colorado desert has preserved these remains, so that in the rock tombs one may gaze upon brightly painted hieroglyphs of the time of moses that look as though they were carved yesterday. in this oriental tour the stamp of strange religions is over all the lands. the temple is the keynote of each race. and religion with the oriental is not a matter of one day's worship in seven: it is a vital, daily function into which he puts all the dreamy mysticism of his race. the first sight of several mohammedans bowed in the dust by the roadside, with their faces set toward mecca, gives one a strange thrill, but this spectacle soon loses its novelty. everywhere in the far east religion is a matter of form and ceremony: it includes regular visits to the temple and regular prayers and offerings to the deities enshrined in these houses of worship. but it also includes a daily ritual that must be observed at certain fixed hours, even though the believer may be in the midst of the crowded market place. the spiritual isolation of an oriental at his prayers in any big city of the far east is the most significant feature of this life--so alien to all the mental, moral, and religious training of the occident. vain is it for one of anglo-saxon strain to attempt to bridge this abyss that lies between his mind and that of the burman or the parsee. each lives in a spiritual world of his own and each would be homesick for heaven were he transferred to the ideal paradise of the other. so the traveler in the orient should give heed to the temples, for in them is voiced the spiritual aspirations of the people, who have little of comfort or hope to cheer them in this world. japan, the picture country of the orient first impressions of japan and the life of the japanese yokohama looks very beautiful to the traveler who has spent over two weeks on the long sea voyage from seattle; but it has little to commend it to the tourist, for most of its native traits have been europeanized. it is noteworthy, however, as the best place except hongkong for the traveler to purchase an oriental outfit and it is probably the cheapest place in the world for trunks and bags and all leather goods. its bund, or water-front, is spacious and its leading hotels are very comfortable. of japan and the japanese, all that can be given are a few general impressions of the result of two weeks of constant travel over the empire and of talks with many people. of the country itself, the prevailing impression of the tourist, who crosses it on the railroad or who takes rides through the paddy fields in a rickshaw, is of a perennial greenness. instead of the tawny yellow of california in october, one sees here miles on miles of rice fields, some of vivid green, others of green turning to gold. the foothills of the mountains remind one of the foothills of the sierra nevada, as they all bear evidences of the rounding and smoothing of glacial action. at a distance the rice fields look like grain fields, but seen near at hand they are found to be great swamps of water, with row on row of rice, the dead furrows either serving as ditches or as raised paths across the fields. every bit of hillside is terraced and planted to rice or vegetables or fruit. often these little, terraced fields, which look like the natural mesa of southern california, will not be over fifty feet long by ten or fifteen feet wide. between the rows of fruit trees are vegetables or corn or sorghum. the farmers live in little villages and apparently go home every night after tilling their fields. there are none of the scattered farmhouses, with trees around them, which are so characteristic a feature of any american rural scene. the towns as well as the cities show a uniformity of architecture, as most of the shops are one story or a story and one-half, while the residences seem to be built on a uniform plan, with great variety in gateways and decoration of grounds. most of the roofs are made of a black clay, corrugated so that it looks like the spanish-american tile, and many of the walls that surround residences and temples are of adobe, with a tiled covering, precisely as one sees to-day the remains of adobe walls in old spanish-californian towns. the general impression of any japanese city when seen from a height is that of a great expanse of low buildings with a liberal sprinkling of trees and a few pagodas or roofs of buddhist temples. the strongest impression that the unprejudiced observer receives in japan is of the small value set upon labor as well as upon time by the great mass of the people. in yokohama and in kobe, which show the most signs of foreign influence, the same traits prevail. it is one of the astonishing spectacles of the world, this accomplishment of the business of a great nation by man power alone. only in one city, osaka, the chicago of japan, is there any general evidence of the adoption of up-to-date methods in manufacturing. everywhere one sees all the small industries of the country carried on in the same way that they were conducted in palestine in the time of christ. everywhere men, harnessed to heavy push carts, are seen straining to haul loads that are enough for a horse. the few horses in the cities are used for heavy trucks, in common with bulls, for the japanese bull is a beast of burden and not one of the lords of creation as in our own country. the bull is harnessed with a short neckyoke and a saddle on his back, which bears a close resemblance to the riding saddle of the cossack. some rope traces are hitched to crude, home-made whiffletrees. the bull, as well as the horse, is guided by a rope line. the carts are remarkably heavy, with wheels of great weight, yet many of these carts are pulled by two men. in the big cities may be seen a few victorias, or other carriages, and an occasional motor car, but both these means of conveyance can be used with safety only on the broadest avenues. in the narrow streets of the native quarter, which seldom exceed ten feet in width and which have no sidewalks, the jinrikisha is the only carriage. this is a light, two-wheeled gig, drawn by one man and frequently on the steep grades pushed from the back by a second man. the rickshaw man has a bell gong on one shaft, which he rings when approaching a sharp turn in the street or when he sees several trucks or other rickshaws approaching. the bell also serves to warn old people or children who may be careless, for the rickshaw has the right of way and the pedestrian must turn to either side to give it the road. americans, who are far more considerate of the feelings of the japanese than other foreigners, frequently may be seen walking up the steep grades in such hilly cities as nikko, nara and kobe, but long residence in japan is said to make everyone callous of the straining and the sweating of the rickshaw man. purposely my itinerary included a number of little towns, which practically have been uninfluenced by foreign customs. in these places may be seen the primitive japanese life, unchanged for hundreds of years. yet everywhere one cannot fail to be impressed by the tireless industry of the people, and by their general good nature and courtesy. in any other country in the world, a party of americans with their foreign dress would have provoked some insulting remarks, some gestures that could not be mistaken; but here in rural japan was seen the same perfect courtesy shown in the europeanized sections of the big cities. the people, to be sure, made no change in their way of life. mothers suckled their infants in front of their little shops, and children stood naked and unashamed, lost in wonder over the strange spectacle of the party of foreign people that dashed by in rickshaws. naked men, with only a g-string to distinguish them from the costume of adam before the expulsion from eden, labored at many tasks, and frequently our little cavalcade swept by the great government schools where hundreds of little japanese are being educated to help out the manifest destiny of the empire. this courtesy and good nature among the poorest class of the japanese people is not confined to their treatment of foreigners; it extends to all their daily relations with one another. a nearly naked coolie pulling a heavy cart begs a light for his cigarette with a bow that would do honor to a chesterfield. a street blockade that in new york or san francisco would not be untangled without much profanity and some police interference is cleared here in a moment because everyone is willing to yield and to recognize that the most heavily burdened has the right of way. in all my wanderings by day or night in the large japanese cities i never except once saw a policeman lift his, hand to exercise his authority. this exception was in tokio, where a band of mischievous schoolboys was following a party of gayly dressed ladies in rickshaws and laughing and chattering. the guardian of the peace admonished them with a few short, crisp words, and they scuttled into the nearest alleys. the industry of the people, whether in city or country, is as amazing as their courtesy. the japanese work seven days in the week, and the year is broken only by a few festivals that are generally observed by the complete cessation of labor. in the large cities work goes on in most of the shops until ten or eleven o'clock at night, and it is resumed at six o'clock the next morning. the most impressive spectacle during several night rides through miles of tokio streets was the number of young lads from twelve to sixteen years of age who had fallen asleep at their tasks. with head pillowed on arm they slumbered on the hard benches, where they had been working since early morning, while the older men labored alongside at their tasks. from the train one saw the rice farmer and his wife and children working in the paddy fields as long as they could see. these people do not work with the fierce energy of the american mechanic, but their workday is from twelve to fourteen hours and, considering these long hours, they show great industry and conscientiousness. in some places women were employed at the hardest work, such as coaling ships by hand and digging and carrying earth from canals and ditches. scarcely less impressive than the tireless industry of the people is the enormous number of children that may be seen both in city and country. it was impossible to get statistics of births, but any american traveling through japan must be struck with the fact that this is a land not threatened by race suicide. women who looked far beyond the time of motherhood were suckling infants, while all the young women seemed well provided with children. girls of five or six were playing games with sleeping infants strapped to their backs, and even boys were impressed into this nursery work. the younger children are clothed only in kimonos, so that the passer-by witnesses many strange sights of naked japanese cherubs. in all quarters of tokio the children were as numerous as in tenement streets of american cities on a sunday afternoon, and in small country towns the number of children seemed even greater than in the big cities. another feature of japanese life that made a profound impression on me was the pilgrimage of school children to the various sacred shrines throughout the empire. at nikko and at nara, two of the great seats of buddhist and shinto shrines, these child pilgrims were conspicuous. they were seen in bands of fifty or seventy-five, attended by tutors. the boys were dressed in blue or black jackets, white or blue trousers and white leggings. each carried his few belongings in a small box or a handkerchief and each had an umbrella to protect him from the frequent showers. the girls had dark red merino skirts, with kimono waists of some dark stuff. many were without stockings, but all wore straw sandals or those with wooden sole and heavy wooden clogs. school children are admitted to temples and shrines at half rates and in every place the guides pay special attention to these young visitors. pilgrimages of soldiers and others are also very common. whenever a party of one hundred is formed it receives the benefit of the half-rate admission. no observant tourist can fail to see that in the pilgrimages of these school children and these soldiers the authorities of new japan find the best means of stimulating patriotism. church and state are so closely welded that the mikado is regarded as a god. passionate devotion to country is the great ruling power which separates japan from all other modern nations. the number of young men who leave their country to escape the three years' conscription is very small. the schoolboy in his most impressionable years is brought to these sacred shrines; he listens to the story of the forty-seven ronins and other tales of japanese chivalry; his soul is fired to imitate their self-sacrificing patriotism. the bloody slopes of port arthur witnessed the effect of such training as this. the japanese capital and its parks and temples tokio, the capital of japan, is a picturesque city of enormous extent and the tourist who sees it in two or three days must expect to do strenuous work. the city, which actually covers one hundred square miles, is built on the low shore of tokio bay and is intersected by the sumi river and a network of narrow canals. the river and these canals are crossed by frequent bridges. at night the tourist may mark his approach to one of these canals by the evil odors that poison the air. even in october the air is sultry in tokio during the day and far into the night, but toward morning a penetrating damp wind arises. although tokio's main streets have been widened to imposing avenues that run through a series of great parks, the native life may be studied on every hand--for a block from the big streets, with their clanging electric cars, one comes upon narrow alleys lined with shops and teeming with life. here, for the first time, the tourist sees japanese city life, only slightly influenced by foreign customs. the streets are not more than twelve or fifteen feet wide, curbed on each side by flat blocks of granite, seldom more than a foot or eighteen inches wide. these furnish the only substitute for a sidewalk in rainy weather, as most of the streets are macadamized. a slight rainfall wets the surface and makes walking for the foreigner very disagreeable. the japanese use in rainy weather the wooden sandal with two transverse clogs about two inches high, which lifts him out of the mud. all japanese dignitaries and nearly all foreigners use the jinrikisha, which has the right of way in the narrow streets. the most common sound in the streets is the bell of the rickshaw man or his warning shout of "hi! hi!" my first day's excursion included a ride through shiba and hibiya parks to uyeno park, the resting place of many of the shoguns. this makes a trip which will consume the entire day. shiba park is noteworthy for its temples (which contain some of the most remarkable specimens of japanese art) and for the tombs of seven of the fifteen shoguns or native rulers who preceded the mikado in the government of japan. the first and third shoguns are buried at nikko, while the fourth, fifth, eighth, ninth, eleventh and thirteenth lie in uyeno park, tokio. these mortuary chapels in shiba park are all similar in general design, the only differences being in the lavishness of the decoration. out of regard for the foreign visitor it is not necessary to remove one's shoes in entering these temples, as cloth covers are provided. each temple is divided into three parts--the outer oratory, a corridor and the inner sanctum, where the shogun alone was privileged to worship. the daimyos or nobles were lined up in the corridor, while the smaller nobles and chiefs filled the oratory. it would be tedious to describe these temples, but one will serve as a specimen of all. this is the temple of the second shogun, which is noteworthy for the beauty of the decoration of the sanctum and the tomb. two enormous gilded pillars support the vaulted roof of the sanctum, which is formed of beams in a very curious pattern. a frieze of medallions of birds, gilded and painted, runs around the top of the wall. the shrine dates back for two and one-half centuries and is of rich gold lacquer. the bronze incense burner, in the form of a lion, bears the date of . the great war drum of ieyasu, the first of the tokugawa shoguns, lies upon a richly decorated stand. back of the temple is the octagonal hall, which houses the tomb of the second shogun. this tomb is the largest example of gold lacquer in the world, and parts of it are inlaid with enamel and crystal. scenes from liao-ling, china, and lake biwa, japan, adorn the upper half, while the lower half bears elaborate decoration of the lion and the peony. the base of the tomb is a solid block of stone in the shape of the lotus. the hall is supported by eight pillars covered with gilded copper, and the walls are covered with gilded lacquer. the enormous amount of money expended on these shrines will amaze any foreign visitor, as well as the profound reverence shown by the japanese for these resting places of the shoguns. passing along a wide avenue traversed by electric cars one soon reaches hibiya park, one of the show places of tokio. to the european tourist or the visitor from our eastern states the beauty of the vegetation is a source of marvel, but san francisco's golden gate park can equal everything that grows here in the way of ornamental shrubs, trees and flowers. on the south side of the park are the parliament buildings, and near by the fine, new brick buildings of the naval and judicial departments and the courts. near by are grouped many of the foreign legations, the palaces of princes and the mansions of the japanese officials and foreign embassadors. here also is the museum of arms, which is very interesting because of the many specimens of ancient japanese weapons and the trophies of the wars with china and russia. in this museum one may see the profound interest which the japanese pilgrims from all parts of the empire take in these memorials of conquest. to them they rank with the sacred shrines as objects of veneration. not far away is the moat which surrounds the massive walls of the imperial palace, open only to those who have the honor of an imperial audience. these walls are of granite laid up without mortar, the corner stones being of unusual size. the visitor may see the handsome roofs of the imperial palaces. those who have been admitted declare that the decorations and the furniture are in the highest style of japanese art, although the simplicity and the neutral colors that mark the shinto temples prevail in the private chambers of the emperor. in the throne chamber and the banquet hall, on the other hand, gold and brilliant hues make a blaze of color. near the palace grounds are the government printing office and a number of schools. turning down into yoken street, one of the great avenues of traffic, you soon reach uyeno park--the most popular pleasure ground of the capital, and famous in the spring for its long lines of cherry trees in full blossom. in the autumn it impressed me, as did all the other japanese parks, as rather damp and unwholesome. the ground was saturated from recent rain; all the stonework was covered with moss and lichen; the trees dripped moisture, and the little lakes scattered here and there were like those gloomy tarns that poe loved to paint in his poems. near the entrance to this park is a shallow lake covered with lotus plants, and a short distance beyond from a little hill one may get a good view of the buildings of the imperial university. here is a good foreign restaurant where one may enjoy a palatable lunch. near by on a slight eminence stands a huge bronze image of buddha, twenty-one and one-half feet high, called the daibutsu. it is one of several such figures scattered over the empire. passing through a massive granite torii, or gate, one reaches an avenue of stately cryptomeria, or cedar trees that leads to a row of stone lanterns presented in by daimyos as a memorial to the first shogun. the temple beyond is famous for its beautiful lacquer. near at hand are the temples and tombs of the six shoguns of the tokugawa family, buried in uyeno park. these temples are regarded as among the finest remains of old japanese art. the mortuary temples bear a close resemblance to those in shiba park. the second temple is the finer and is celebrated for the gilding of the interior walls, the gorgeous decoration of the shrines and the memorial tablets in gold lacquer. here, also, are eight tablets erected to the memory of eight mothers of shoguns, all of whom were concubines. [illustration: the yomei-mori gate, ieyasu temple, nikko. one of the most beautiful gates in all japan. the columns are painted white, with capitals of unicorn's heads. the roof is supported by gilt dragon's heads.] a short distance from uyeno park is the great buddhist temple known as asakusa kwannon, dedicated to kwannon, the goddess of mercy. the approaches to this temple on any pleasant day look like a country fair. the crowd is so dense that jinrikishas can not approach within one hundred yards. the shrine dates back to the sixth century and the temple is the most popular resort of its kind in tokio. on each side of the entrance lane are shops, where all kinds of curios, toys, cakes, et cetera, are sold. the temple itself is crowded with votaries who offer coins to the various idols, while below (near the stairs that give entrance to the temple) are various side booths that are patronized by worshipers. some of these gods promise long life; others give happiness, and several insure big families to women who offer money and say prayers. one of the remarkable jinrikisha rides in japan is that from uyeno to shimbashi station through the heart of tokio by night. this takes about a half hour and it gives a series of pictures of the great japanese city that can be gained in no other way. here may be seen miles of little shops lining alleys not over ten or twelve feet wide, in most of which work is going on busily as late as eleven o'clock. in places the sleepy proprietors are putting up their shutters, preparatory to going to bed, but in others the work of artisan or baker or weaver goes on as though the day had only fairly begun. most of these shops are lighted by electricity, but this light is the only modern thing about them. the weaver sits at the loom precisely as he sat two thousand years ago, and the baker kneads his dough and bakes his cakes precisely as he did before the days of the first shogun. this ride gives a panorama of oriental life which can be equaled in few cities in the world. occasionally the jinrikisha dashes up a little bank and across a bridge that spans a canal and one catches a glimpse of long lines of house boats, with dim lights, nestling under overhanging balconies. overall is that penetrating odor of the far east, mingled with the smell of bilge water and the reek of thousands of sweating human beings. these smells are of the earth earthy and they led one to dream that night of weird and terrible creatures such as de quincey paints in his _confessions of an english opium eater_. the most famous city of temples in all japan the most magnificent temples in japan are at nikko, in the mountains, five hours' ride by train from tokio. what makes this trip the more enjoyable to the american tourist is that the country reminds him of the catskills, and that he gets some glimpses of primitive japanese life. the japanese have a proverb: "do not use the word 'magnificent' until you have seen nikko." and anyone who goes through the three splendid temples that serve as memorials of the early shoguns will agree that the proverb is true. the railroad ride to nikko is tedious, although it furnishes greater variety than most of the other trips by rail through the mikado's empire. but as soon as one is landed at the little station he recognizes that here is a place unlike any that he has seen. the road runs up a steep hill to the kanaya hotel, which is perched on a high bank overlooking the daiyagawa river. tall cedar trees clothe the banks, and across the river rise mountains, with the roofs of temples showing through the foliage at their base. this hotel is gratefully remembered by all tourists because of the artistic decoration of the rooms in japanese style and the beneficent care of the proprietor, which includes a pretty kimono to wear to the morning bath, with straw sandals for the feet, and charming waitresses in picturesque costumes. the first buddhist temple at nikko dates back to the eighth century, but it was not until the seventeenth century that the place was made a national shrine by building here the mausoleum of the first shogun, ieyasu, and of his grandson, iemitsu. hardly less noteworthy than these shrines and temples is the great avenue of giant cryptomeria trees, which stretches across the country for twenty miles, from nikko to utsunomiya. one of the chief objects of interest in nikko is the sacred red bridge which spans a swift stream about forty feet wide. this is a new bridge, as the old one was carried away by a great flood nine years ago. originally built in , it served to commemorate the legendary and miraculous bridging of the stream by shodo shonin, a saint. he arrived at the river one day while on a pilgrimage and called aloud for aid to cross. on the opposite bank appeared a being of gigantic size, who promised to help him, and at once flung across the stream two green and blue dragons which formed a bridge. when the saint was safely over the bridge, it vanished with the mysterious being. shodo at once built a hut on the banks of the stream. for fourteen years he dwelt there and gathered many disciples. then he established a monastery and a shrine at lake chuzinji, about nine miles from nikko. nine hundred years later the second shogun of the tokugawa dynasty sent two officials to nikko to select a site for the mausoleum of his father. they chose a site near nikko, on a hill called hotoke-iwa, and in the spring of the tomb was completed and the coffin was deposited under it with appropriate buddhist ceremonies. the road to the mausoleum winds around the river. the first object on the way is a pillar erected in to ward off evil influences. it is a cylindrical copper column forty-two feet high, supported by short horizontal bars of the same material, resting on four short columns. small bells hung from lotus-shaped cups crown the summit of the column. just beyond this column is a massive granite torii, twenty-seven and one-half feet high, the gift of the daimiyo of chikuzen. to the left is a five-story pagoda, one hundred and four feet in height, which is especially graceful. inside a red wooden wall are arranged a series of lacquered storehouses, a holy water cistern cut out of a solid block of granite, a finely decorated building in which rest a collection of buddhist writings. a second court is reached by a flight of stairs. here are gifts presented by the kings of luchu, holland and korea, these three countries being regarded as vassal states of japan. on the left is the temple of yahushi, beautifully decorated in red and gold lacquer, and just beyond is a fine gate, called yomei-mon, decorated with medallions of birds. passing through this gate, one reaches a court bordered by several small buildings, one of which contains the palanquins that are carried in the annual procession on june st, when the deified spirits of the first shogun, hideyoshi (the great conqueror), and yoritomo occupy them. seventy-five men carry each of these palanquins. the main shrines are reached through the chinese gate. the three chambers are magnificent specimens of the finest work in lacquer, gold and metal. the tomb of ieyasu, the first shogun, is reached by ascending two hundred stone steps. the tomb is in the form of a small pagoda of bronze of an unusually light color caused by the mixture of gold. the body of the shogun is buried twenty feet deep in a bed of charcoal. beyond is the mausoleum of iemitsu, the third shogun. the oratory and chapel are richly decorated, but they do not compare with those of the first shogun's tomb. back of these tombs, among the huge cedar trees that clothe the sides of the mountain, is a small red shrine where women offer little pieces of wood that they may pass safely through the dangers of childbirth. near by is the tomb of shodo, the saint, and three of his disciples. these mortuary temples and tombs are genuinely impressive. they bear many signs of age and it is evident that they are held in great veneration by the japanese, who make pilgrimages at all seasons to offer up prayers at these sacred shrines. more impressive than the tombs themselves are the pilgrims. on the day that i visited this sacred shrine several large bands of pilgrims were entertained. one party was composed of over a hundred boys from one of the big government military schools. these lads were in uniform and each carried an umbrella and a lunch tied up in a handkerchief. the priests paid special attention to these young pilgrims and described for their benefit the marvels of carving and lacquer work. services were held before the shrines and the glorious conquest of the shoguns and of hideyoshi (popularly known as the napoleon of japan) were described in glowing words. the russian cannon captured at port arthur, which stands near the entrance to the tombs, was not forgotten by these priests, who never fail to do their part in stimulating the patriotism of the young pilgrims. these boys were followed by an equal number of public school girls, all dressed in dark red merino skirts and kimonos of various colors. some were without stockings and none wore any head covering, although each girl carried her lunch and the inevitable umbrella. after these children came several parties of mature pilgrims, some finely dressed and bearing every evidence of wealth and position, while others were clothed in poor garments and showed great deference to the priests and guides. all revealed genuine veneration for the sacred relics and all contributed according to their means to the various shrines. some idea of the revenue drawn by the priests from tourists and pilgrims may be gained when it is said that admission is seventy sen (or thirty-five cents in american money) for each person, with half-rates to priests, teachers and school children, and to members of parties numbering one hundred. the shops at nikko will be found well worth a visit, as this city is the market for many kinds of furs that are scarce in america. many fine specimens of wood carving may also be seen in the shops. the main street of the town runs from the kanaya hotel to the railroad depot, a distance of a mile and one-half, and it is lined for nearly the whole distance with small shops. on his return to the railroad the tourist would do well to take a jinrikisha ride of five miles down through the great avenue of old cryptomeria trees to the little station of imaichi. this is one of the most beautiful rides in the world. the road is bordered on each side by huge cedar trees which are from one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet in height. in many cases the roots of these old trees have formed a natural embankment and the road is thus forced below the level of the surrounding rice fields. these trees were planted nearly three hundred years ago and they are certainly in a remarkable state of preservation. a few gaps there are, due to the vandalism of the country people, but mile after mile is passed with only an occasional break in these stately columns, crowned by the deep green masses of foliage. another cryptomeria avenue intersects this and runs for twenty-five miles across the country. the two avenues were planted in order that they might be used by the shogun's messengers when they bore important letters to him during his summer residence in nara. in kyoto, the ancient capital of japan next to nikko, one of the most interesting cities in japan is kyoto, the old capital under the shoguns, the seat of several fine palaces and many beautiful temples, and the center of large manufacturing works of satsuma and cloissone ware, damascene work and art work on silk and velvet. kyoto may be reached by a short ride from kobe, but from tokio it is an all-day trip of twelve hours by express train. this ride, which would be comfortable in well appointed cars, is made tedious by the japanese preference for cars with seats arranged along the side, like the new american pay-as-you-enter street cars. for a short ride the side seat may be endured, but for hours of travel (especially when one is a tourist and wishes to see the scenery on both sides of the road) the cars are extremely tiresome. by selecting the express train and buying first-class tickets it was hoped to avoid any crowd but, unfortunately, the day chosen saw many other tourists on their way across japan. the result was that the first-class car was packed and many who had paid first-class fares were forced to ride in the second-class cars. in my car one side was occupied almost wholly by japanese. two were in american dress, one was an army officer in uniform, another a clerk with many packages, and the remaining two were an old couple, richly dressed. the japanese, in traveling first-class, generally brings a rug or fur, which he spreads over the seat. on this he sits with his feet drawn up under him in the national style. smoking is not prohibited even in the first-class cars, so that the american ladies in the cars had to endure the smell of various kinds of japanese tobacco, in addition to the heat, which was rendered more disagreeable by the frequent closing of the windows as the train dashed through many tunnels. the old couple carried lunch in several hampers and they indulged in a very elaborate luncheon, helped out by tea purchased in little pots from a dealer at a station. the army officer bought one of the small wooden lunch boxes sold along all japanese railways, which contain boiled rice, fried fish and some boiled sweet potatoes. this, with a pot of tea, made a good lunch. the japanese in european costume patronized the dining-car, where an excellent lunch was served for one yen, or fifty cents in american money. the scenery along the line of the railway varied. the road skirts the coast for many miles, then cuts across several mountain ranges to nagoya, then along the shores of owari bay (an arm of the ocean), thence across the country to the lower end of lake biwa, near which kyoto is situated. in the old days this journey consumed twelve days, and the road twice every year furnished a picturesque procession of the retinues of great nobles or daimiyos traveling from kyoto to tokio to present their respects to the shogun. the road was skirted by great cryptomeria, and avenues of these fine trees may still be seen near nikko. kyoto was a great city in medieval days, when it was the residence of the mikado. from until , when the court removed to tokio, kyoto remained the capital. its importance, however, began to decline with the founding of yedo, or tokio, in , and to-day many miles of its former streets are devoted to the growing of rice. in this way several of the finest temples, which were once in the heart of the old city, are now relegated to the suburbs. besides the mikado's palace and nijo castle, which may be visited only by special permit, kyoto boasts of an unusual number of richly decorated temples, among which the most noteworthy are the shinto temple of inari; the temple of the one thousand images of kwannon, the deity of mercy; the great buddhist temple of nishi-honguanji, celebrated for its art work in paintings and decorated woods; the great bronze buddha, fifty-eight feet high; the big bell near by, nearly fourteen feet high, and the other in the cheon-in temple here--these being two of the four largest bells in all japan. to describe the treasures in art and decoration, in gold and lacquer, in these palaces, would be tiresome. unless one is a student of japanese art the visiting of temples soon becomes a great bore, for one temple or one palace is a repetition of others already seen, with merely minor differences in architecture and decoration, which appeal only to the specialist. kyoto, however, is of great interest for its many art shops--since applied art, as seen in satsuma and cloissone ware and in damascene, have almost reached the level of pure art. a visit to one of the satsuma factories is an interesting experience, as it shows how little the art of japan has been influenced by the foreigner. here one sees the potter at his wheel, precisely as in the days of the bible. he does not avail himself of electric power but whirls his wheel by hand and foot, exactly as in the time of christ. passing from the pottery to the art rooms, one finds a number of japanese men and girls painting elaborate designs on bowls and vases and other articles. these artists grind and mix their own oil colors, which they proceed to lay on slowly upon the article they are decorating. the patience of these artists is indescribable. infinite pains is taken with a single flower or tree or figure of man or bird. one vase exhibited here is covered with butterflies which range from natural size down to figures so small that they can be discerned only under a magnifying glass. yet, this vase, which represents such an enormous outlay of labor and time, is sold at thirty dollars in american money. at the damascene works both men and women are also employed, although the finest work is done by the men. the art consists in beating into bronze small particles of gold leaf until they have become an actual part of the baser metal. this gold is arranged in a great variety of design and, after being beaten in, the article is subjected to powerful heat, which oxidizes the metal and thus prevents any change due to the weather. at this kyoto factory were turned out the most artistic jewelry, boxes, cigarette cases and a great variety of small articles, many of which sold at absurdly low prices, considering the amount of labor and time expended on them. kyoto will be found one of the best cities in japan for the purchase of the art work just described, as well as embroidery, silks and other stuffs. in many of these shops the work is done on the premises and hence the prices are cheaper than in any other city except yokohama. it is worth while to visit the shops that exhibit bronze work, silks, velvets and carvings in ivory and wood, as well as curios of many kinds. most of these shopkeepers demand more than they expect to receive, but in a few shops the goods are plainly marked and no reduction in price can be secured. at kyoto the tourist will find many traces of primitive japanese life, especially in the unfrequented streets and in the suburbs. here in the bed of the river, a portion of which was being walled up for a canal, were employed a dozen women digging up gravel and carrying it in baskets to carts near by. they had their skirts tied up and they were working in mud and water which reached to their knees. it was not a pleasant spectacle, but it excited no comment in this country, where women labor in the rice fields by the side of men. a short ride from kyoto brings the visitor to nara, the seat of the oldest temples in japan, and famous for the tame deer in the park. a long avenue of stone lanterns leads to the principal temples, in an ancient cedar grove. the main temple gives an impression of great age by its heavy thatched roof. next looms up the gigantic wooden structure, which houses daibutsa, the great bronze image of buddha. this statue, which dates back to the eighth century, is fifty-three and one-quarter feet high; the face is sixteen feet long and nine and one-quarter feet wide. the god is in a sitting position, with the legs crossed. the head, which is darker than the remainder of the image, replaced in the sixteenth century the original head destroyed by fire. the expression of this buddha is not benignant, and the image is impressive only because of its size. it has two images eighteen feet in height on either hand, but these seemed dwarfed by the huge central figure. the park at nara is very interesting, because of the tame deer which have no fear of the stranger in european dress, but will eat cakes from his hand. one of the sources of revenue is to sell these cakes to the tourist. a visit was paid to an old temple at horyuji, about eight miles from nara, which is famous as the oldest buddhist temple in japan. it contains a valuable collection of ancient japanese works of art. the rickshaw ride to this place is of great interest, as the road passes through a rich farming country and two small towns which seem to have been little affected by european influence. in the fertile valley below nara rice is grown on an extensive scale, these paddy fields being veritable swamps which can be crossed only by high paths running through them, at distances of thirty or forty feet. here also may be seen the curious method of trellising orchards of pear trees with bamboo poles. the trellis supports the upper branches and this prevents them from breaking down under the weight of fruit, while it also makes easy the picking of fruit. agriculture at its best is seen in this fertile japanese valley. one peculiarity of this country, as of other parts of rural japan, is that one sees none of the scattered farmhouses which dot every american farming section. instead of building on his own land the farmer lives in a village to which he returns at night after his day's work. kobe, osaka, the inland sea and nagasaki kobe is regarded as a base for the tourist who wishes to make short excursions to kyoto, osaka and other cities. it was established as a foreign settlement in , and has grown so remarkably during the last ten years that now it exceeds in imports and exports any other city in japan. kobe is one of the most attractive cities in the empire, being built on a pretty harbor, with the land rising like an amphitheater. scores of handsome residences are scattered over the foothills near the sea. those on the lower side of the streets that run parallel to the harbor have gardens walled up on the rear, while the houses on the upper side of the streets have massive retaining walls. these give opportunity for many ornamental gateways. kobe has many large government schools, but the institutions which i found of greatest interest were kobe college for women, conducted by miss searle, and the glory kindergarten, under the management of miss howe. kobe college, which was founded over thirty years ago, is maintained by the women's board of missions of chicago. it has two hundred and twenty-five pupils, of whom all except about fifty are lodged and boarded on the premises. i heard several of the classes reciting in english. the primary class in english read simple sentences from a blackboard and answered questions put by the teacher. a few spoke good english, but the great majority failed to open their mouths, and the result was the indistinct enunciation that is so trying to understand. another class was reading _hamlet_, but the pupils made sad work of shakespeare's verse. the japanese reading of english is always monotonous, because their own language admits of no emphasis; so their use of english is no more strange than our attempts at japanese, in which we employ emphasis that excites the ridicule of the mikado's subjects. not far from this college is the kintergarten, which miss howe has carried on for twenty-four years. she takes little tots of three or four years of age and trains them in froebel's methods. so successful has she been in her work among these children of the best japanese families of kobe that she has a large waiting list. she has also trained many japanese girls in kintergarten work. all the children at this school looked unusually bright, as they are drawn from the educated classes. it sounded very strange to hear american and english lullabies being chanted by these tots in the unfamiliar japanese words. osaka, the chief manufacturing city of japan, is only about three-quarters of an hour's ride from kobe. it spreads over nine miles square and lies on both sides of the yodogawa river. the most interesting thing in osaka is the castle built by hideyoshi, the napoleon of japan, in . the strong wall was once surrounded by a deep moat and an outer wall, which made it practically impregnable. what will surprise anyone is the massive character of the inner walls which remain. here are blocks of solid granite, many of them measuring forty feet in length by ten feet in height. it must have required a small army of men to place these stones in position, but so well was this work done (without the aid of any mortar) that the stones have remained in place during all these years. from the summit of the upper wall a superb view may be gained of the surrounding country. from kobe the tourist makes the trip through the inland sea by steamer. its length is about two hundred and forty miles and its greatest width is forty miles. the trip through this sea, which in some places narrows to a few hundred feet, is deeply interesting. the hills remind a californian strongly of the marin hills opposite san francisco, but here they are terraced nearly to their summits and are green with rice and other crops. many of the hills are covered with a growth of small cedar trees, and these trees lend rare beauty to the various points of land that project into the sea. at two places in the sea the steamer seems as though she would surely go on the rocks in the narrow channel, but the pilot swings her almost within her own length and she turns again into a wider arm of the sea. in these narrow channels the tide runs like a mill race, and without a pilot (who knows every current) any vessel would be in extreme danger. the steamer leaves kobe about ten o'clock at night and reaches nagasaki, the most western of japanese cities, about seven o'clock the following morning. nagasaki in some ways reminds one of kobe, but the hills are steeper and the most striking feature of the town is the massive stone walls that support the streets winding around the hills, and the elaborate paving of many of these side-hill streets with great blocks of granite. the rainfall is heavy at nagasaki, so we find here a good system of gutters to carry off the water. the harbor is pretty and on the opposite shore are large engine works, three large docks and a big ship-building plant, all belonging to the mitsu bishi company. here some five thousand workmen are constantly employed. [illustration: the daibutsu or great bronze buddha at hyogo, near kobe. the impressive figure is forty-eight feet high and eighty-five feet round the waist. it is not so fine as the daibutsu at kamakura but surpasses that at nara] one of the great industries of nagasaki is the coaling of japanese and foreign steamships. a very fair kind of steam coal is sold here at three dollars a ton, which is less by one dollar and one-half than a poorer grade of coal can be bought for in seattle; hence the steamer minnesota coaled here. the coaling of this huge ship proved to be one of the most picturesque sights of her voyage. early on the morning of her arrival lighters containing about a railway carload of coal began to arrive. these were arranged in regular rows on both sides of the ship. then came out in big sampans an army of japanese numbering two thousand in all. the leaders arranged ladders against the sides of the ship, and up these swarmed this army of workers, three-quarters of whom were young girls between fourteen and eighteen years old. they were dressed in all colors, but most of them wore a native bonnet tied about the ears. they formed in line on the stairs and then the coal was passed along from hand to hand until it reached the bunkers. these baskets held a little over a peck of coal, and the rapidity with which they moved along this living line was startling. every few minutes the line was given a breathing space, but the work went on with a deadly regularity that made the observer tired to watch it. occasionally one of the young girls would flag in her work and, after she dropped a few basketfuls, she would be relieved and put at the lighter work of throwing the empty baskets back into the lighters. most of these girls, however, remained ten hours at this laborious work, and a few worked through from seven o'clock in the morning until nearly midnight, when the last basket of coal was put on board. at work like this no such force of europeans would have shown the same self-control and constant courtesy which these japanese exhibited. wranglings would have been inevitable, and the strong workers would have shown little regard for their weaker companions. another feature of this japanese work was the elimination of any strain or overexertion. if a girl failed to catch a basket as it whirled along the line she dropped it instantly. never did i see anyone reach over or strain to do her work. the rest for lunch occupied only about fifteen minutes, the begrimed workers sitting down on the steps of the ladders and eating their simple food with keen relish. at night when strong electric lights cast their glare over these constantly moving lines of figures the effect was almost grotesque, reminding one of gustave doré's terrible pictures of the lost souls in torment, or of the scramble to escape when the deluge came. the skill that comes of long practice marked the movements of all these workers, and it was rare that any basket was dropped by an awkward or tired coal-passer. in seventeen hours four thousand five hundred tons of coal were loaded on the steamer. about fifteen hundred people were working on the various ladders, while another five hundred were employed in trimming the coal in the hold and in managing the various boats. the result was an exhibit of what can be done by primitive methods when perfect co-operation is secured. nagasaki itself has little that will interest the tourist but a ride or walk to mogi, on an arm of the ocean, five miles away, may be taken with profit. the road passes over a high divide and, as it runs through a farming country, one is able to see here (more perfectly than in any other part of japan) how carefully every acre of tillable land is cultivated. on both sides of this road from nagasaki to the fishing village of mogi were fields enclosed by permanent walls of stone, such as would be built in america only to sustain a house. in many cases the ground protected by this wall was not over half an acre in extent, and in some cases the fields were of smaller size. tier after tier of these walls extended up the sides of the steep hills. the effect at a little distance was startling, as the whole landscape seemed artificial. the result of this series of walls was to make a succession of little mesas or benches such as may be seen in southern california. development of the japanese sense of beauty after a trip through japan the question that confronts the observant tourist is: what has preserved the fine artistic sense of the japanese people of all classes, in the face of the materialist influences that have come into their life with the introduction of western methods of thought and of business? the most careless traveler has it thrust upon him that here is a people artistic to the tips of their fingers, and with childlike power of idealization, although they have been forced to engage in the fierce warfare of modern business competition. what is it that has kept them unspotted from the world of business? what secret source of spiritual force have they been able to draw upon to keep fresh and dewy this eager, artistic sense that must be developed with so much labor among any western people? the answer to these questions is found, by several shrewd observers, in the japanese devotion to their gardens. every japanese, no matter how small and poor his house, has a garden to which he may retire and "invite his soul." these japanese gardens are unique and are found in no other land. china has the nearest approach to them, but the poor chinese never dreams of spending time and money in the development of a garden, such as the japanese in similar circumstances regards as a necessity. and these japanese gardens are always made to conform to the house and its architecture. the two never fail to fit and harmonize. a poor man may have only a square of ground no larger than a few feet, but he will so arrange it as to give it an appearance of spaciousness, while the more elaborate gardens are laid out so as to give the impression of unlimited extent. the end of the garden appears to melt into the horizon, and the owner has a background that extends for miles into the country. by the artistic use of stones and dwarf plants, a few square feet of ground are made to give the effect of liberal space and, with bridges, moss-covered stones, ponds, gold fish and other features, a perfect illusion of the country may be produced. into this garden the master of the house retires after the work of the day. there he takes none of his business or professional cares. he gives himself wholly to the contemplation of nature. he becomes for the time as a little child, and his soul is pleased with childish things. for him this garden, with its pretty outlook on a larger world, serves as the boundary of the universe. here he may dream of the legends of the samurai, before japan fell under the evil influence of the new god of gain. here he may indulge in the day-dreams that have always been a part of the national consciousness. here, in fine, he may get closer to the real heart of nature than any occidental can ever hope to reach. it is this capacity to get close to nature that the japanese possess beyond any other oriental people--and this capacity is not limited to those of means or leisure or education. the poor man, who has a daily struggle to get enough rice to satisfy his moderate wants, is as open to these influences as the rich man who is not worried by any material wants. there is no distinction of classes in this universal worship of beauty--this passion for all that is lovely in nature. it was not my good fortune to be in japan at the time of the cherry-blossom festival--but these fêtes merely serve to bring out this national passion for beauty and color, which finds expression not only in the gardens throughout the empire but in painting, drawing and in working on silks and other fabrics. the same instinctive art sense is seen in the work of the cabinet-maker and even in the designs of gateways and the doors of houses. the eye and the hand of the common worker in wood and metal is as sure as the hand of the great artist. such is the influence of this constant study of beauty in nature and art. when you watch a busy japanese artisan you get a good idea of the spirit that animates his work. he regards himself as an artist, and he shows the same sureness of hand and the same sense of form and color as the designer in colors or the painter of portraits or landscapes. all the beautiful gateways or torii, as they are called, are works of art. they have one stereotyped form, but the artists embellish these in many ways and the result is that every entrance to a large estate or a public ground is pleasing to the eye. as these gateways are generally lacquered in black or red or gold, they add much to the beauty and color of each scene. the ornamental lattice over nearly every door also adds enormously to the effectiveness of even a simple interior. watch a worker on cloissone enamel and you will be amazed at the rapidity and the accuracy with which he paints designs on this beautiful ware. without any pattern he proceeds to sketch with his brush an intricate design of flowers, birds or insects, and he develops this with an unerring touch that is little short of marvelous, when one considers that he has never had any regular training in drawing but has grown up in the shop and has gained all his skill from watching and imitating the work of his master on the bench at his side. one day in kyoto i watched a mere boy gradually develop a beautiful design of several hundred butterflies gradually becoming smaller and smaller until they vanished at the top of the vase. what he proposed to make of this was shown in a finished design that was exquisite in the gradation of form and color. the same skill of hand and eye was seen in the shops of kyoto where damascene ware is made. gold and silver is hammered into steel and other metals, so that the intricate designs actually seem to become a part of the metal. in carving in wood the japanese excel, and in such places as nikko and nara the tourist may pick up the most elaborate carvings at absurdly low prices. conclusions on japanese life and character in summing up one's observations of japanese life and character, after a brief trip across the empire, it is necessary to exercise much care and not to take the accidental for the ordinary incidents of life. generalizations from such observations on a hurried journey are especially deadly. to guard against such error i talked with many people, and the conclusions given here are drawn from the radically different views of missionaries, merchants, steamship agents, bankers and others. generous allowance must be made for the prejudices of each class, but even then the forming of any conclusions is difficult. this is due largely to the fact that the japanese a half-century ago were mediæval in life and thought, and that the remarkable advances which they have made in material and intellectual affairs have been crowded into a little more than the life of two generations. the most common charge made against the japanese as a race is that their standard of commercial morality is low as compared with that of the chinese. the favorite instance, which is generally cited by those who do not like the japanese, is that all the big banks in japan employ chinese shroffs or cashiers, who handle all the money, as japanese cashiers cannot be trusted. this ancient fiction should have died a natural death, but it seems as though it bears a charmed life, although its untruth has been repeatedly exposed by the best authorities on japan. the big foreign banks in all the large japanese cities do employ chinese shroffs, because these men are most expert in handling foreign money and because they usually have a large acquaintance all along the chinese coast among the clients of the banks. the large japanese banks, on the other hand, employ japanese in all positions of trust and authority, as do all the smaller banks throughout the empire. many of the cashiers of these smaller banks understand english, particularly those that have dealings with foreigners. at a native bank in kobe, which was cook's correspondent in that city, i cashed several money orders, and the work was done as speedily as it would have been done in any american bank. the fittings of the bank were very cheap; the office force was small, but the cashier spoke excellent english and he transacted business accurately and speedily. in making any generalizations on the lack of rigid commercial honesty among japanese merchants it may be well for me to quote the opinion of an eminent american educator who has spent over forty years in japan. he said, in discussing this subject: "we must always consider the training of the japanese before their country was thrown open to foreign trade. for years the nation had been ruled by men of the samurai or military class, with a rigid code of honor, but with a great contempt for trade and tradesmen. naturally business fell into the hands of the lower classes who did not share the keen sense of honor so general among their rulers. hence, there grew up lax ideas of commercial morality, which were fostered by the carelessness in money matters among the nobility and aristocracy. much of the prevalent japanese inability to refrain from overcharging, or delivering an inferior article to that shown to the customer, dates back to these days of feudal life. the years of contact with the foreigners have been too few to change the habits of centuries. another thing which must always be considered is the relation of master and vassal under feudal life. that relation led to peculiar customs. thus, if an artisan engaged to build a house for his overlord he would give a general estimate, but if the cost exceeded the sum he named, he expected his master to make up the deficit. this custom has been carried over into the new régime, so that the japanese merchant or mechanic of to-day, although he may make a formal contract, does not expect to be bound by it, or to lose money should the price of raw material advance, or should he find that any building operations have cost more than his original estimate. in such case the man who orders manufactured goods or signs a contract for any building operations seems to recognize that equity requires him to pay more than was stipulated in the bond. when japanese deal with japanese this custom is generally observed. it is only the foreigner who expects the japanese to fulfill his contract to the letter, and it is the attempt to enforce such contracts which gives the foreign merchant his poor opinion of japanese commercial honesty. in time, when the japanese have learned that they must abide by written contracts, these complaints will be heard no longer. the present slipshod methods are due to faulty business customs, the outgrowth of the old samurai contempt for trade in any form." in dealing with small japanese merchants in various cities, it was my experience that they are as honest as similar dealers in other countries. usually they demanded about one-half more than they expected to receive. then they made reductions and finally a basis of value was agreed upon. this chaffering seems to be a part of their system; but the merchants and manufacturers who are brought most often into contact with europeans are coming to have a fixed price for all their goods, on which they will give from ten to twenty per cent. reduction, according to the amount of purchases. one manufacturer in kyoto who sold his own goods would make no reduction, except in the case of some samples that he was eager to sell. his goods were all plainly marked and he calmly allowed tourists to leave his store rather than make any cut in his prices. the pains and care which the japanese dealer will take to please his customer is something which might be imitated with profit by foreign dealers. a question that is very frequently put is, "what has been the influence of christianity upon japanese life and thought?" this is extremely difficult to answer, because even those who are engaged in missionary work are not always in accord in their views. one missionary of thirty years' experience said: "the most noteworthy feature of religious work in japan is the number of prominent japanese who have become converts to christianity. the new premier, who is very familiar with life in the united states, may be cited as one of these converts. such a man in his position of power will be able to do much to help the missionaries. the usual charge that japanese embrace christianity in order to learn english without expense falls to the ground before actual personal experience. the converts always seemed to me to be as sincere as converts in china or corea, but it must be admitted that the strong materialist bent of modern japanese education and thought is making it more difficult to appeal to the present generation." an educator who has had much experience with japanese said: "it looks to me as though japan would soon reach a grave crisis in national life. hitherto buddhism and shintoism have been the two forces that have preserved the religious faith of the people and kept their patriotism at white heat. now the influences in the public schools are all antagonistic to any religious belief. the young men and women are growing up (both in the public schools and the government colleges) to have a contempt for all the old religious beliefs. they cannot accept the shinto creed that the emperor is the son of god and should be worshiped as a deity by all loyal japanese. they cannot accept the doctrines of buddha, as they see the new japan giving the lie to these doctrines every day in its home and international dealings. nothing is left but atheism, and the experience of the world proves that there is nothing more dangerous to a nation than the loss of its religious faith. the women of japan are slower to accept these new materialist views than the men, but the general breaking down of the old faith is something which no foreign resident of japan can fail to see. on the other side patriotism is kept alive by the pilgrimages of school children to the national shrines, but one is confronted with the questions? will the boys and girls of a few years hence regard these shrines with any devotion when they know that buddhism and shintoism are founded on a faith that science declares has no foundation? will they offer up money and homage to wooden images which their cultivated reason tells them are no more worthy of worship than the telegraph poles along the lines of the railway?'" the japanese way of doing things is the exact reverse of the american way generally, but if one studies the methods of this oriental race it will be found that their way is frequently most effective. thus, in addressing letters they always put the city first, then the street address and finally the number, while they never fail to put the writer's name and address on the reverse of the envelope, which saves the postoffice employés much trouble and practically eliminates the dead-letter office. the japanese sampan, as well as other boats, is never painted, but it is always scrubbed clean. the sampan has a sharp bow and a wide, square stern, and navigators say it will live in a sea which would swamp the ordinary whitehall boat of our water-front. the japanese oar is long and looks unwieldy, being spliced together in the middle. it is balanced on a short wooden peg on the gunwale and the oarsman works it like a sweep, standing up and bending over it at each stroke. the result is a sculling motion, which carries the boat forward very rapidly. in no japanese harbor do the big steamships come up to the wharf. they drop anchor in the harbor, and they are always surrounded by small sampans, the owners of which are eager to take passengers ashore for about twenty-five cents each. all cargo is taken aboard by lighters or unloaded in the same way. these lighters hold as much as a railroad freight car. the fishing boats of japan add much to the picturesqueness of all the harbors, as they have sails arranged in narrow strips laced to bamboo poles, and they may be drawn up and lowered like the curtains in an american shop window. whether square or triangular, these sails have a graceful appearance and they are handled far more easily than ours. the japanese carpenter, who draws his plane as well as his saw toward himself, appears to work in an awkward and ungainly way, but he does as fine work as the american cabinet-maker. the beauty of the interior woodwork of even the houses of the poorer classes is a constant marvel to the tourist. nothing is ever painted about the japanese house, so the fineness of the grain of the wood is revealed as well as the exquisite polish. a specialty of the japanese carpenter is lattice-work for the windows and grill-work for doors. these add very much to the beauty of unpretentious houses. in conclusion it may be said that japan offers the lover of the beautiful an unlimited opportunity to gratify his æsthetic senses. in city or country he cannot fail to find on every hand artistic things that appeal powerfully to his sense of beauty. whether in an ancient temple or a new home for a poor village artisan, he will see the results of the same instinctive sense of the beautiful and the harmonious. the lines are always lines of grace, and the colors are always those which blend and gratify the eye. will the japanese retain their good traits? any thoughtful visitor to japan must be impressed with the problems that confront japan to-day, owing to the influence of foreign thought and customs. this influence is the more to be dreaded because the japanese are so impressionable and so prone to accept anything which they are convinced is superior to their own. they have very little of the chinese passion for what has been made sacred by long usage. they have high regard for their ancestors, but very little reverence for their customs and opinions. this lack of veneration is shown in striking fashion by those japanese students who come to this country to gain an education. these young men are as eager as the ancient athenians for any new thing, and when they return to their old homes each is a center of occidental influence. this is frequently not for the best interests of their countrymen, who have not had their own opportunities of observation and comparison. the qualities in which the japanese excel are the very qualities in which so many americans are deficient. personal courage and loyalty are the traits which professor scherer, a distinguished expert, regards as the fundamental traits of the japanese character. that these qualities have not been weakened materially was shown in the recent war with russia. in that tremendous struggle was demonstrated the power of a small nation, in which everyone--men, women and children--were united in a passionate devotion to their country. no similar spectacle was ever shown in modern history. the men who went cheerfully to certain death before port arthur revealed no higher loyalty than the wives at home who committed suicide that their husbands might not be called upon to choose between personal devotion to their family and absolute loyalty to the nation. the foreign correspondents, who were on two-hundred-and-three-metre hill before port arthur, have told of the japanese soldiers in the ranks who tied ropes to their feet in order that their comrades might pull their bodies back into the trenches. all those who were drafted to make the assaults on the russian works in that awful series of encounters (which make the charge of the light brigade at balaklava seem cheap and theatrical) knew they were going to certain death. yet these foreign observers have left on record that the only sentiment among those who remained in the trenches was envy that they had not been so fortunate as to be selected to show this supreme loyalty to their country. general nogi, who recently committed suicide with his wife on the day of the funeral of the late emperor, had two sons dash to this certain death on the bloodstained hill before port arthur. as commander, he could have assigned them to less dangerous positions, but it probably never entered his head to shield his own flesh and blood. and the same loyalty that is shown to country is also proved in the relation of servant to master. the story of the forty-seven ronins is too well known to need repetition, but the loyalty of these retainers (who slew the man that caused their lord's death, although they knew that this deed called for their immediate end by their own hands) impresses one with new force when he stands before the tombs of these men in the japanese capital and sees the profound reverence in which they are still held by the people of japan. what puzzles the foreign observer is: will this passionate loyalty of servant to master survive the spectacle of the ingratitude and self-interest which the japanese see in the relation of master and servant in most christian countries? the whole tendency of life in other countries than his own is against this loyalty, which has been bred in his very marrow. how long, without the mainstay of religion, will the japanese cling to this outworn but beautiful relic of his old life? and it must be confessed that religion is rapidly losing its hold on the men of japan. those who have been abroad are apt to return home freethinkers, because the spectacle of the practical working of christianity is not conducive to faith among so shrewd a people as the japanese. even the example of the foreigners in japan is an influence that the missionaries regard as prejudicial to christianity. another trait of the japanese which will not be improved by contact with foreigners, and especially with americans, is thoroughness. this trait is seen on every hand in japan. nothing is built in a slovenly way, whether for private use or for the government. the artisan never scamps his work. he seems to have retained the old mechanic's pride in doing everything well which he sets his hand to do. this is seen in the carving of many works of art, as well as in the building of the ornamental gateways throughout the empire, that stand as monuments to the æsthetic sense of the people. yet the whole influence of foreign teaching and example is against this thoroughness that is ingrained in the japanese character. the young people cannot fail to see that it does not pay their elders to expend so much time and effort to gain perfection, when their foreign rivals secure apparently equal if not superior results by quick and careless work. it is upon these japanese children that the future of the empire depends. they are sure to be infected by these object lessons in the gospel of selfish and careless work, which the labor union leaders in our country have preached until it has been accepted by the great mass of mechanics. another racial quality of the japanese, which is likely to suffer from contact with foreigners, is his politeness. this is innate and not acquired; it does not owe any of its force to selfish considerations. the traveler in japan is amazed to see this politeness among all classes, just as he sees the artistic impulse flowering among the children of rough toilers in the fields. and again the question arises: will the japanese retain this attractive trait when they come into more intimate contact with the foreigner, who believes in courtesy mainly as a business asset rather than as a social virtue? so, in summing up one's impressions of japan, there comes this inevitable doubt of the permanence of the fine qualities which make the japanese nation to-day so distinct from any other. the japanese may differ from all other races in their power of resisting the corrupting influences of foreign association, but it is to be feared that the visitor to the mikado's land fifty years from now may not only find no mikado, but none of the peculiarly gracious qualities in the japanese people which to-day set them apart from all other nations. [illustration: plate i street scene, asakusa park, tokyo. this picture gives a good idea of japanese street dress of men and women. the park contains a twelve-story tower, two hundred and twenty feet in height] [illustration: plate ii entrance hall and stairway of modern home of a tokyo millionaire. note the priceless screens with cherry-blossom decoration, the bronze stair railings and the inlaid floor] [illustration: plate iii bronze lanterns and sacred fountain, shiba temple, tokyo. these temples in shiba park are among the marvels of japanese art] [illustration: plate iv sacred red bridge at nikko. legend says it was built for the saint shodo shonin. no one crossed it except the shoguns and in modern times the mikado. general grant was given a permit to cross this bridge, but sensibly refused to use it] [illustration: plate v avenue of cryptomeria to futaaru temple, nikko. this picture gives a good idea of the effectiveness of the tori or gate, of black or red lacquer or natural wood, which stands at the entrance to most parks and temples] [illustration: plate vi avenue of cryptomeria trees, near nikko. this splendid avenue, lined with huge cedar trees from one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet in height, extends for five miles from nikko to imaichi] [illustration: plate vii great bronze torii, nikko. these torii or gates form the most characteristic feature of japanese landscapes. they are always of the same pattern but infinite in variety of decoration] [illustration: plate viii stone lanterns, kasuga temple park, nara. a remarkable collection of lanterns which line the avenue leading to the temple. in this park many tame deer wander, their horns being cut once a year in october] [illustration: plate ix religious procession, kyoto. this gives a good idea of a familiar sight in all japanese cities. many of the standards carried in these processions are very beautiful, with silk streamers of many colors] [illustration: plate x scene on canal, kyoto. none of the houses that line this canal are elaborate, but all have balconies adorned with dwarf trees and plants in pots of many colors. this is one of the most picturesque scenes in all japan] [illustration: plate xi street scene in kobe. this view shows the low two-story houses, with overhanging balconies, the enormous gilded signs and the absence of all horses in the street. this street scene is typical of all japanese cities] [illustration: plate xii a group of japanese schoolboys. these faces, full of life and mischief, are typical of young japan. about the only faces in japan free from lines of care are those of school children. when over sixteen the face of the japanese becomes a mask which conceals all emotions] [illustration: plate xiii japanese peasant group by the roadside. these country people show keen curiosity in regard to the foreign tourist but they are always courteous] [illustration: plate xiv scene in large private garden, kyoto. this old capital of japan is noted for its many beautiful gardens, with ponds well stocked with goldfish and crossed by miniature bridges] [illustration: plate xv iris bed at horikiri, near tokyo. this flower resort is the scene of many pilgrimages in june when the irises are in full bloom] [illustration: plate xvi private garden, kamakura. this gives a good idea of the arrangement of a japanese garden. to the influence of the garden is ascribed the japanese love of the beautiful in nature and art] manila, transformed by the americans first impressions of manila and its picturesque people the bay of manila is so extensive that the steamer appears to be entering a great inland sea. the shores are low-lying and it takes about an hour before the steamer nears the city, so that one can make out the landmarks. to the right, as one approaches the city, is cavite, which dewey took on that historic may day in . the spires of many churches are the most conspicuous landmarks in manila, but as the distance lessens a huge mass of concrete, the new manila hotel, looms up near the docks. the bay is full of ships and alongside the docks are a number of passenger and freight steamers. just as we are able to make out these things, our ears catch the strains of a fine band of music and we see two launches rapidly nearing the ship. in one is a portion of the splendid constabulary band, the finest in the orient. in the other launch was the special committee of the manila merchants' association. the band played several stirring airs, everybody cheered and waved handkerchiefs and for a few minutes it looked as though an impromptu fourth of july celebration had begun. it is difficult to describe an american's emotions when he sees the stars and stripes for the first time in five weeks. the most phlegmatic man on the ship danced a war dance, women wept, and when the reception committee boarded the ship and met the passengers in the dining saloon there was great enthusiasm. plans were arranged for crowding into the two days' stay all the sightseeing and entertainment possible and these plans were carried out, giving a fine proof of manila hospitality. manila differs from most of the oriental cities in the fact that american enterprise has constructed great docks and dredged out the harbor so that the largest steamers may anchor alongside the docks. in yokohama, kobe, hongkong and other ports ships anchor in the bay and passengers and freight must be transferred to the shore by launches and lighters. reinforced concrete is now the favorite building material of the new manila. not only are the piles and docks made of this material, but all the new warehouses and business buildings as well as most of the american and foreign residences are of concrete. it is substantial, clean, cool and enduring, meeting every requirement of this tropical climate. the white ant, which is so destructive to the ordinary wooden pile, does not attack it. the pasig river divides manila into two sections. on the south side of the old walled city are the large districts of malate, ermito and paco. on the north side is the principal retail business street, the escolta and the other business thoroughfares lined with small shops, and six large native districts. the escolta is only four blocks long, very narrow, with sidewalks barely three feet wide; yet here is done most of the foreign retail trade. in a short time a new escolta will be built in the filled district, as it would cost too much to widen the old street. as a car line runs through the escolta, there is a bad congestion of traffic at all times except in the early morning hours. the bridge of spain is one of the impressive sights of manila. with its massive arches of gray stone, it looks as though it would be able to endure for many more centuries. one of the oldest structures in the city, it was built originally on pontoons, and it was provided with the present arches in . only one earthquake, that of , damaged it. then two of the middle arches gave way, and these were not restored for twelve years. the roadway is wide, but it is crowded all day with as picturesque a procession as may be seen in any part of the world. the carromata, a light, two-wheeled cart, with hooded cover, pulled by a native pony, is the favorite conveyance of the foreigners and the better class of the filipinos. the driver sits in front, while two may ride very comfortably on the back seat. it is a great improvement on the japanese jinrikisha because one may compare impressions with a companion. the country cart is built something like the carromata and will accommodate four people. hundreds of these carts come into manila every day with small stocks of vegetables and fruit for sale at the markets. a few victorias may be seen on the bridge, but what causes most of the congestion is the carabao cart, hauling the heavy freight. the carabao (pronounced carabough, with the accent on the last syllable), is the water buffalo of the philippines, a slow, ungainly beast of burden that proves patient and tractable so long as he can enjoy a daily swim. if cut off from water the beast becomes irritable, soon gets "loco" and is then dangerous, as it will attack men or animals and gore them with its sharp horns. the carabao has little hair and its nose bears a strong resemblance to that of the hippopotamus. its harness consists of a neckyoke of wood fastened to the thills of the two-wheeled cart. on this cart is frequently piled two tons, which the carabao pulls easily. another bridge which has historic interest for the american is the san juan bridge. it is reached by the santa mesa car line. here at either end were encamped the american and filipino armed forces, and the insurrection was started by a shot at night from the native trenches. the bridge was the scene of fierce fighting, which proved disastrous to the filipinos. aside from the bridges and the life along the pasig river, the most interesting part of manila lies within the old walled city. this section is known locally as "intramuros." it is still surrounded by the massive stone wall, which was begun in but not actually completed until . the wall was built to protect the city from free-booters, as manila, like old panama, offered a tempting prize to pirates. into the wall was built old fort santiago, which still stands. the wall varies in thickness from three to forty feet, and in it were built many chambers used as places of confinement and torture. until six years ago a wide moat surrounded the wall, but the stagnant water bred disease and the moat was filled with the silt dredged up from the bay. fort santiago forms the northwest corner of the wall. its predecessor was a palisade of bags, built in , behind which the spaniards defended themselves against the warlike native chiefs. in the stone fort was begun. within it was the court of the military government. seven gates were used as entrances to the walled city in old spanish days, the most picturesque being the real gate, bearing the date of , and the santa lucia gate, with the inscription of . these gates were closed every night, and some of the massive machinery used for this purpose may be seen lying near by--a reminder of those good old days when the belated traveler camped outside. in the old walled city are some of the famous churches of manila. the oldest is san augustin, first dedicated in . the present structure was built two years later, the first having been completely destroyed by fire. the enormously thick walls were laid so well that they have withstood the severe earthquakes which proved so destructive to many other churches. in this church are buried legaspi and salcedo, the explorers, who spread spanish dominion over the philippines. the church of st. ignatius is famous for the beautifully carved woodwork of the pulpit and the interior decorations; that of santo domingo is celebrated for its finely carved doors. the greatest shrine in the phillippines is the cathedral, which fronts on plaza mckinley. this is the fifth building erected on the same site, fire having destroyed the other four. the architecture is byzantine, and the interior gives a wonderful impression of grace and spaciousness. some of the old doors and iron grill-work of the ancient cathedrals have been retained. american work in the philippine islands it will surprise any american visitor to the philippine islands to find how much has been accomplished since to make life better worth living for the filipino as well as for the european or the american. civil government through the philippine commission has been in active operation for ten years. during this decade what americans have achieved in solving difficult problems of colonial government is matter for national pride. the american method in the philippines looks to giving the native the largest measure of self-government of which he is capable. it has not satisfied the filipino, because he imagines that he is all ready for self-government, but it has done much to lift him out of the dead level of peonage in which the spaniard kept him and to open the doors of opportunity to young filipinos with ability and energy. i talked with many men in various professions and in many kinds of business and all agreed that the american system worked wonders in advancing the natives of real ability. rev. dr. george w. wright of manila, who has charge of a large presbyterian seminary for training young filipinos for the ministry, and who has had much experience in teaching, said: "in the old days only the sons of the illustrados, or prominent men of the noble class, had any chance to secure an education and this education was given in the catholic private schools. with the advent of the americans any boy possessing the faculty of learning quickly may get a good education, provided he will work for it. i know of one case of a boy who did not even know who his parents were. he gained a living by blacking shoes and selling papers. he came to me for aid in entering a night school. he learned more rapidly than anyone i ever knew. soon he came to me and wanted a job that would occupy him half a day so that he could go to school the other half of the day. i got him the job and in a few months he was not only perfecting himself in english, but reading law. nothing can keep this boy down; in a few years he will be a leader among his people. under the old spanish system he never would have been permitted to rise from the low caste in which fortune first placed him." [illustration: imperial gate, fort santiago, manila. this is the main entrance to the old fort, built into the massive wall. this wall was for spanish defense against warlike native chiefs] more than a thousand american teachers are scattered over the philippine islands, and for ten years these men and women have been training the young of both sexes. some have proved incompetent, a few have set a very bad example, but the great majority have done work of which any nation might be proud. they have not only been teachers of the young, but they have been counselors and friends of the parents of their pupils. the work done in a material way in the philippines is even more remarkable. of the first importance is the offer of a homestead to every citizen from the public lands. so much was paid for the friar lands that these are far beyond the reach of anyone of ordinary means, but the government has large reserves of public land, which only need cultivation to make them valuable. sanitary conditions have been enormously improved both in manila and throughout the islands. in the old days manila was notorious for many deaths from cholera, bubonic plague and smallpox. no sanitary regulations were enforced and the absence of any provisions for sewage led to fearful pestilences. now not only has manila an admirable sewerage system, but the people have been taught to observe sanitary regulations, with the result that in the suburbs of such a city as manila the homes of common people reveal much better conditions than the homes of similar classes in japan. the sewage of manila is pumped three times into large sumps before it is finally dumped into the bay a mile from the city. the island military police, known as the constabulary guard, has done more to improve conditions throughout the islands than any other agency. the higher officers are drawn from the united states regular army, but the captains and lieutenants are from civil life, and they are mainly made up of young college graduates. these men get their positions through the civil service and, though some fail to make good, the great majority succeed. their positions demand unusual ability, for they not only have charge of companies of native police that resemble the mexican rurales or the canadian mounted police, but they serve as counselor and friend to all the filipinos in their district. in this way their influence is frequently greater than that of the school teachers. all this work and much more has been accomplished by the insular government without calling upon the united states for any material help. it does not seem to be generally known that the philippine islands are now self-supporting, and that the only expense entailed on the general government is a slight increase for maintaining regiments assigned to the island service and the cost of corregidor fortifications and other harbor defenses. this has been accomplished without excessive taxation. personal property is exempt, while the rate on real estate in manila is only one and one-half per cent. on the assessed valuation, and only seven-eights of one per cent. in the provinces. the fiscal system has been put on a gold basis, thus removing the old fluctuating silver currency which was a great hardship to trade. scenes in the city of manila and suburbs every visitor to manila in the old days exhausted his vocabulary in praise of the luneta, the old spanish city's pleasure ground, which overlooked the bay and corregidor island. it was an oval drive, with a bandstand at each end, inclosing a pretty grass plot. here, as evening came on, all manila congregated to hear the band play and to meet friends. the manilan does not walk, so the broad drive was filled with several rows of carriages passing slowly around the oval. to-day the luneta remains as it was in the old spanish days, but its chief charm, the seaward view, is gone. this is due to the filling in of the harbor front, which has left the luneta a quarter of a mile from the water-front. however, a new luneta has been made below the old one, and the broad avenues opened up near by give far more space for carriages than before. every evening except monday the constabulary band plays on the luneta, and the scene is almost as brilliant as in the old days, as the american government officials make it a point to turn out in uniform. nothing can be imagined more perfect than the evenings in manila after the heat of the day. the air is deliciously soft and a gentle breeze from the ocean tempers the heat. the best way to see the native life of manila is to take a street-car ride through the tondo and caloocan districts, or a launch ride up the pasig river. on the cars one passes through the heart of the business district, the great tondo market, filled with supplies from the surrounding country as well as many small articles of native or foreign manufacture. this car line also passes the maypajo, the largest cockpit in the world, where at regular intervals the best fighting cocks are pitted against each other and the betting is as spirited as on american race tracks in the old days. on the return trip by these cars one passes by the san juan bridge, which marked the opening of the insurrection; the old malacanan palace, now the residence of governor-general forbes, and the paco cemetery, where several thousand bodies are buried in the great circular wall which surrounds the church. these niches in the wall are rented for a certain yearly sum, and in the old spanish days, when this rental was not promptly paid by relatives, the corpse was removed and thrown with others into a great pit. recently this ghastly practice has been frowned on by the authorities. the average manila resident does not pay more than fifty dollars in our money for his nipa house. the framework is of bamboo, bound together by rattan; the roof timbers are of bamboo, while the sides of the house and the thatch are made from the nipa tree. the sides look like mats. the windows are of translucent shell, while the door is of nipa or wood. these houses are usually about fifteen feet square, with one large room, and are raised about six feet from the ground. under the house is kept the live stock. when the family has a horse or cow or carabao the house is ten feet from the ground, and these animals are stabled underneath. in nearly every house or yard may be found a game cock tied by the leg to prevent him from roaming and fighting. in most of the houses that the cars passed in the big native quarter of tondo, furniture was scanty. usually the family has a large dresser, which is ornamented with cheap pictures, and the walls are frequently covered with prints in colors. there is no furniture, as the filipino's favorite position is to squat on his haunches. in many of the poorest houses, however, were gramophones, which are paid for in monthly installments of a dollar or two. the filipinos are very fond of music, and the cheap gramophones appeal to them strongly. nearly every filipino plays some instrument by ear, and many boys from the country are expert players on the guitar or mandolin. on large plantations the hands are fond of forming bands and orchestras, and often their playing would do credit to professional musicians. the constabulary band, recognized as the finest in the orient, has been drilled by an american negro named loring. in the santa mesa district are the houses of wealthy filipinos. these are usually of two stories, with the upper story projecting far over the lower, and with many ornamental dormer windows, with casement sashes of small pieces of translucent shell. in manila the window is provided to keep out the midday heat and glare of the sun. at other times the windows are slid into the walls, and thus nearly the whole side of the house is open to the cool night air. many of these houses are finished in the finest hardwoods, and not a few have polished mahogany floors. bamboo and rattan furniture may be seen in some of these houses, while in others are dressers and wardrobes in the rich native woods. these houses are embowered in trees, among which the magnolia, acacia and palm are the favorites, with banana and pomelo trees heavy with fruit. [illustration: plate xvii a glimpse of the escolta, manila. the escolta, only four blocks in length, is the business street in manila. clarke's, the restaurant and tea-house in the foreground, is the favorite american headquarters in manila] [illustration: plate xviii old church and bridge at pasig. built of massive stone and overgrown with moss, this bridge and church seems older than the ancient wall of manila] [illustration: plate xix the binondo canal, which intersects a crowded district of manila. the picture gives a good idea of the cascoes or native cargo boats] [illustration: plate xx on the malecon drive, manila. one of the picturesque roads, lined with feathery palms, that lead to the luneta] [illustration: plate xxi view on a manila canal. this gives a good idea of the native nipa huts along the banks of the canal, and a bamboo foot-bridge] [illustration: plate xxii a filipino peasant girl on the way to market. she wears the native costume with the enormous bamboo hat. the water jar is like the spanish-american olla] [illustration: plate xxiii the carabao cart in the philippines. the carabao or water buffalo is the filipinos' chief beast of burden. the cart is crude and heavy, with a home-made yoke. the buffalo is also used for ploughing and other farm work] [illustration: plate xxiv the nipa hut of the filipino. this style of house, with bamboo frame and thatched sides and roof of nipa grass, costs about fifty mex. or twenty-five dollars in united states gold coin. it is usually about six feet from the ground] hongkong, canton, singapore and rangoon hongkong, the greatest british port in the orient the entrance to the harbor of hongkong is one of the most impressive in the world. the steamer runs along by the mainland for several miles. then a great island is descried, covered with smelting works, huge dockyards, great warehouses and other evidences of commercial activity. this is the lower end of the island of victoria, on which the city of hongkong has been built. the island was ceded by china to great britain in , after the conclusion of the opium war. it is separated from the mainland of china by an arm of the sea, varying from one mile to five miles in width. this forms the harbor of hongkong, one of the most spacious and picturesque in the world. it is crowded with steamers, ferryboats, chinese junks with queer-shaped sails of yellow matting, sampans, trim steam launches and various other craft. as the vessel passes beyond the smelting works and the dry docks it rounds a point and the beauty of hongkong is revealed. the city is built at the foot of a steep hill nearly two thousand feet in height. along the crescent harbor front are ranged massive business buildings with colonaded fronts and rows of windows. behind the business section the hills rise so abruptly that many of the streets are seen to be merely rows of granite stairs. still farther back are the homes of hongkong residents, beautiful stone or brick structures, which look out upon the busy harbor. with a glass one can make out the cable railroad which climbs straight up the mountainside for over one thousand feet and then turns sharply to the right until the station is reached, about thirteen hundred feet above sea level. hongkong differs radically from yokohama, tokio, kobe, nagasaki or manila, because of the blocks of solid, granite-faced buildings that line its water front, each with its rows of venetian windows, recessed in balconies. this is the prevailing architecture for hotels, business buildings and residences, while dignity is lent to every structure by the enormous height between stories, the average being from fifteen to eighteen feet. this impression of loftiness is increased by the use of the french window, which extends from the floor almost to the ceiling, all the windows being provided with large transoms. the feature of hongkong which impresses the stranger the most vividly is the great mixture of races in the streets. here for the first time one finds the sedan chair, with two or four bearers. it is used largely in hongkong for climbing the steep streets which are impossible for the jinrikisha. the bearers are low-class coolies from the country, whose rough gait makes riding in a chair the nearest approach to horseback exercise. the jinrikisha is also largely in evidence, but the bearers are a great contrast in their rapacious manners to the courteous and smiling japanese in all the cities of the mikado's land. queen's road, the main business street of hongkong, furnishes an extraordinary spectacle at any hour of the day. the roadway is lined with shops, while the sidewalks, covered by the verandas of the second stories of the buildings, form a virtual arcade, protected from the fierce rays of the sun. these shops are mainly designed to catch the eye of the foreigner, and they are filled with a remarkable collection of silks, linens, ivories, carvings and other articles that appeal to the american because of the skilled labor that has been expended upon them. carvings and embroidery that represent the work of months are sold at such low prices as to make one marvel how anyone can afford to produce them even in this land of cheap living. the crowd that streams past these shops is even more curious than the goods offered for sale. here east and west meet in daily association. the englishman is easily recognized by his air of proprietorship, although his usual high color is somewhat reduced by the climate. he has stamped his personality on hongkong and he has builded here for generations to come. the german is liberally represented, and old hongkong residents bewail the fact that every year sees a larger number of emperor william's subjects intent on wresting trade from the british. frenchmen and other europeans pass along this queen's road, and the american tourist is in evidence, intent on seeing all the sights as well as securing the best bargains from the shopkeepers. all these foreigners have modified their garb to suit the climate. they wear suits of white linen or pongee with soft shirts, and the solar topi, or pith helmet, which is a necessity in summer and a great comfort at other seasons. the helmet keeps the head cool and shelters the nape of the neck, which cannot be exposed safely to the sun's rays. instead of giving health as the california sun does, this hongkong sunshine brings heat apoplexy and fever. all the orient is represented by interesting types. here are rich chinese merchants going by in private chairs, with bearers in handsome silk livery; parsees from bombay, with skins almost as black as those of the american negro; natives of other parts of india in their characteristic dress and their varying turbans; sikh policemen, tall, powerful men, who have a lordly walk and who beat and kick the chinese chair coolies and rickshaw men when they prove too insistent or rapacious; chinese of all classes, from the prosperous merchant to the wretched coolie whose prominent ribs show how near he lives to actual starvation in this overcrowded land; workmen of all kinds, many bearing their tools, and swarms of peddlers and vendors of food, crying their wares, with scores of children, many of whom lead blind beggars. everywhere is the noise of many people shouting lustily, the cries of chair coolies warning the passersby to clear the way for their illustrious patrons. the chinese seem unable to do anything without an enormous expenditure of talk and noise. ordinary bargaining looks like the beginning of a fierce fight. any trifling accident attracts a great crowd, which becomes excited at the slightest provocation. it is easy to see from an ordinary walk in this hongkong street how panic or rage may convert the stolid chinese into a deadly maniac, who will stop at no outburst of violence, no atrocity, that will serve to wreak his hatred of the foreigner. although hongkong has been europeanized in its main streets, there are quarters of the city only a few blocks away from the big hotels and banks which give one glimpses of genuine native life. some of these streets are reached by scores of granite steps that climb the steep mountainside. these streets are not over twelve or fifteen feet wide, and the shops are mere holes in the wall, with a frontage of eight or ten feet. yet many of these dingy shops contain thousands of dollars' worth of decorated silks and linens, artistic carvings, laces, curios and many other articles of chinese manufacture. unlike the japanese, who will follow the tourist to the sidewalk and urge him to buy, these chinese storekeepers show no eagerness to make sales. they must be urged to display their fine goods, and they cannot be hurried. the best time to see these native streets is at night. take a chair if the climate overpowers you, but walk if you can. then a night stroll through this teeming quarter will always remain in the memory. every one is working hard, as in japan, for the chinese workday seems endless. all kinds of manufacture are being carried on here in these narrow little shops; the workers are generally stripped to the waist, wearing only loose short trousers of cheap blue or brown cotton, the lamplight gleaming on their sweating bodies. here are goldsmiths beating out the jewelry for which hongkong is famous; next are scores of shops in all of which shoes are being made; then follow workers in willow-ware and rattan, makers of hats, furniture and hundreds of other articles. in every block is an eating-house, with rows of natives squatted on benches, and with large kettles full of evil-smelling messes. the crowds in the streets vie with the crowds in the stores in the noise that they make; the air reeks with the odors of sweating men, the smell of unsavory food, the stench of open gutters. this panorama of naked bodies, of wild-eyed yellow faces drawn with fatigue and heat passes before ones' eyes for an hour. then the senses begin to reel and it is time to leave this scene of oriental life that is far lower and more repulsive than the most crowded streets in the terrible east side tenement quarter of new york on a midsummer night. hongkong, both in the european and native quarters, is built to endure for centuries. most of the houses are of granite or plastered brick. the streets are paved with granite slabs. even the private residences have massive walls and heavy roofs of red or black tile; the gardens are screened from the street by high walls, with broken glass worked into the mortar that forms the coping and with tall iron entrance gates. these residences dot the side hill above the town. they are built upon terraces, which include the family tennis court. the roads wind around the mountainside, many of them quarried out of solid rock. all the building material of these houses had to be carried up the steep mountainside by coolies and, until the cable railway was finished, the dwellers were borne to their homes at night by chair coolies. this cable railway carries one nearly to the top of the peak back of hongkong, and from the station a short walk brings one to the summit, where a wireless station is used to flash arrivals of vessels to the city below. the view from this summit, and from the splendid winding road which leads to the peak hospital, not far away, is one of the finest in the world. the harbor, dotted with many ships and small boats, the indented coast for a score of miles, the bare and forbidding chinese territory across the bay, the big city at the foot of the hill; all these are spread out below like a great panorama. the british are firmly entrenched at hongkong. not only have they actual ownership of victoria island, on which hongkong is built, but they have a perpetual lease of a strip of the mainland across from the island, extending back for over one hundred miles. the native city across the bay is kowloon, and is reached by a short ride on the new railroad which will eventually connect hankow with paris. on the barren shore, about a mile from hongkong, has been founded the european settlement of kowloon city. it comprises a row of large warehouses, or godowns, a big naval victualling station and coaling depot, large barracks for two regiments of indian infantry and several companies of indian artillery, with many fine quarters for european officers. the city in recent years has become a favorite residence place for hongkong business men, as it is reached in a few minutes by a good ferry. near by are the great naval docks at hunghom, extensive cement works and the deepest railway cut in the world, the material being used to fill in the bay of hunghom. a visit to canton in days of wild panic every traveler who has seen the orient will tell you not to miss canton, the greatest business center of china, the most remarkable city of the empire, and among the most interesting cities of the world. it is only a little over eighty miles from hongkong, and if one wishes to save time it may be reached by a night boat. while in manila i heard very disturbing reports of rioting in canton and possible bloodshed in the contest between the manchus in control of the army and the revolutionists. this rioting followed the assassination of the tartar general, who was blown up, with a score of his bodyguard, as he was formally entering the city by the main south gate. when hongkong was reached these rumors of trouble became more persistent, and they were given point by the arrival every day by boat and train of thousands of refugees from canton. every day the bulletin boards in the chinese quarter contained dispatches from canton, around which a swarm of excited coolies gathered and discussed the news. one night came the news that the viceroy had acknowledged the revolutionists and had agreed to surrender on the following day. this report was received with great enthusiasm, and hundreds of dollars' worth of firecrackers were burned to celebrate the success of the new national movement. that night i left hongkong on the quong si, one of the chinese boats that ply between hongkong and canton, under the british flag. a half-dozen american tourists were also on the boat, including several ladies. the trip up the estuary of the pearl river that leads to canton was made without incident, and the boat anchored in the river opposite the shameen or foreign concession early in the morning, but the passengers remained on board until about eight-thirty o'clock. the reports that came from the shore were not reassuring. guides who came out in sampans said that there was only a forlorn hope of getting into the walled city, as nearly all the gates had been closed for two days. they also brought the alarming news that the viceroy had reconsidered his decision of the previous night and had sent word that he proposed to resist by force any effort of the revolutionists to capture the city. the flag of the revolution had also been hauled down and the old familiar yellow dragon-flag hoisted in its place. while waiting for the guide to arrange for chairs to take the party through the city, we had a good opportunity to study the river life which makes canton unique among chinese cities. out of the total population of over two millions, at least a quarter of a million live in boats from birth to death and know no other home. many of these boats are large cargo junks which ply up and down the river and bring produce to the great city market, but the majority are small sampans that house one chinese family and that find constant service in transferring passengers and freight from one side of the river to the other, as well as to and from the hundreds of steamers that call at the port. they have a covered cabin into which the family retires at night. these sampans are mainly rowed by women, who handle the boats with great skill. a young girl usually plies the short oar on the bow, while her mother, assisted by the younger children, works the large oar or sweep in the stern. the middle of the sampan is covered by a bamboo house, and in the forward part of this house the family has its kitchen fire and all its arrangements for food. the passenger sits on the after seat near the stern of the boat. these boats are scrubbed so that the woodwork shines, and the backs of the seats are covered with fresh matting. looking out from the steamer one saw at least two miles of these small sampans and larger craft massed along both shores of the river, which is here about a half-mile wide. the foreign concession or shameen is free from these boats. it is really a sand spit, surrounded by water, which was made over to the foreigners after the opium war. north of the shameen is the new western suburb of canton, which has recently been completed on european lines. it has a handsome bund, finely paved, with substantial buildings facing the river. close up against this bund, and extending down the river bank for at least two miles are ranged row on row of houseboats. every few minutes a boat darts out from the mass and is pulled to one of the ships in the stream. across the river and massed against the shore of honam, the suburb opposite canton, is another tangle of sampans, with thousands of active river folk, all shouting and screaming. these yellow thousands toiling from break of day to late at night do not seem human; yet each boat has its family life. the younger children are tied so that they cannot fall overboard, and the older ones wear ingenious floats which will buoy them up should they tumble into the water. boys and girls four or five years old assist in the working of the boat, while girls of twelve or fourteen are experts in handling the oar and in using the long bamboo boat hook that serves to carry the small craft out of the tangle of river activity. [illustration: the city of boats at canton. this floating city in the pearl river opposite canton contains , people, many of whom never venture on land] a type of river steamer which will amaze the american is an old stern-wheeler run by man power. it is provided with a treadmill just forward of the big stern wheel. two or three tiers of naked, perspiring coolies are working this treadmill, all moving with the accuracy and precision of machinery. the irreverent foreigner calls these the "hotfoot" boats, and in the land where a coolie may be hired all day for forty cents mexican or twenty cents in our coin this human power is far cheaper than soft coal at five dollars a ton. these boats carry freight and passengers and they move along at a lively pace. after an hour spent in study of this strange river life i was fortunate enough to go ashore with an american missionary whose husband was connected with a large college across the river from canton. she came aboard in a sampan to take ashore two ladies from los angeles. she invited me to accompany the party, and as she spoke chinese fluently i was glad to accept her offer. we went ashore in a sampan and at once proceeded to visit the western suburb. this part of canton has been built in recent years and is somewhat cleaner than the old town. it is separated from the shameen by bridges which may be drawn up like an ancient portcullis. here we at once plunged into the thick of native life. the streets, not over ten feet wide, were crowded with people. we passed through streets devoted wholly to markets and restaurants, and the spectacle was enough to keep one from ever indulging hereafter in chop-suey. here were tables spread with the intestines of various animals, pork in every form, chickens and ducks, roasted and covered with some preparation that made them look as though just varnished. here were many strange vegetables and fruits, and here, hung against the wall, were row on row of dried rats. at a neighboring stall were several small, flat tubs, in which live fish swam about, waiting for a customer to order them knocked on the head. then we passed into a street of curio shops, but the grill work in front was closed and behind could be seen the timid proprietors, who evidently did not mean to take any chances of having their stores looted by robbers. for three or four days the most valuable goods in all the canton stores had been removed as rapidly as possible. thousands of bales of silk and tons of rare curios were already safe in the foreign warehouses at the shameen or had been carried down the river to hongkong. often we had to flatten ourselves against the sides of the street to give passage to chairs containing high-class chinese and their families, followed by coolies bearing the most valuable of their possessions packed in cedar chests. at an american hospital we were met by several young englishmen connected with medical and young men's christian association work. they proposed a trip through the old walled city, but they refused to take the two ladies, as they said it would be dangerous in the excited condition of the people. so we set out, five in number. after a short walk we reached one of the gates of the walled city, only to find it closed and locked. a short walk brought us to a second gate, which was opened readily by the chinese guards, armed with a new type of german army rifle. the walls of the old city were fully ten feet thick where we entered, and about twenty feet high, made of large slabs of granite. once inside the city walls a great surprise awaited us. instead of crowded streets and the hum of trade were deserted streets, closed shops and absolute desolation. for blocks the only persons seen were soldiers and refugees making their way to the gates. in one fine residence quarter an occasional woman peered through the front gates; in other sections all the houses were closed and barred. soon we reached the buddhist temple, known as the temple of horrors. around the central courtyard are grouped a series of booths, in each of which are wooden figures representing the torture of those who commit deadly sins. in one booth a victim is being sawed in two; in others poor wretches are being garroted, boiled in oil, broken on the wheel and subjected to many other ingenious tortures. at one end is an elaborate joss-house, with a great bronze bell near by. in normal conditions this temple is crowded, and true believers buy slips of prayers, which they throw into the booths to ward off ill luck. the rush of refugees grew greater as we penetrated toward the heart of the city. on the main curio street the huge gilded signs hung as if in mockery above shops which had been stripped of all their treasures. occasionally a restaurant remained open and these were crowded with chair coolies, who were waiting to be engaged by some merchant eager to escape from the city. gone was all the life and bustle that my companions said made this the most remarkable street in canton. it was like walking through a city of the dead, and it bore a striking resemblance to san francisco's business district on the day of the great fire. at intervals we passed the yamens of magistrates, but the guards and attaches were enjoying a vacation, as no court proceedings were held. progress became more and more difficult as the rush of refugees increased and returning chair coolies clamored for passageway. the latter had taken parties to the river boats and were coming back for more passengers. as it became evident that we could not see the normal life of the city, my companions finally urged that we return, as they feared the gates might be closed against us, so we retraced our way, this time taking the main street which led to the great south gate. not far from the gate we came on the scene of the blowing up of the tartar general. seven shops on both sides of the street were wrecked by the explosion. the heavy fronts were partly intact, but the interiors were a mass of brick and charred timbers, for fire followed the explosion. the general had waited several months to allow the political excitement that followed his appointment to subside. he felt safe in entering the city with a strong bodyguard, but not over one hundred yards from the gate a bomb was thrown which killed the general instantly, mangled a score of his retainers and killed over a dozen chinese bystanders. the revolutionists tried to clear the street so that none of their own people should suffer, but they failed because of the curiosity of the crowd. near by this place is the old buddhist water clock, which for five hundred years has marked the time by the drip of water from a hidden spring. the masonry of this water-clock building looks very ancient, and the clock is reached by several long flights of granite stairs. after viewing the clock we reached the wall and passed through the big south gates, which are fully six inches thick, of massive iron, studded with large nails. outside on the bund were drawn up several rapid-fire guns belonging to admiral li, the efficient head of the chinese navy at canton, who also had a score of trim little gunboats patrolling the river. these boats had rapid-fire guns at bow and stern. so we came back to the canton hospital, where we had luncheon. after this i made my way back to the steamer, to find her crowded with over one thousand refugees from the old city, with their belongings. the decks and even the dining saloon were choked with these people, and during the two hours before the boat sailed at least three hundred more passengers were taken on board. we sailed in the late afternoon and were followed by four other river steamers, carrying in all over six thousand refugees. singapore the meeting place of many races of all the places in the orient, the most cosmopolitan is singapore, the gateway to the far east; the one city which everyone encircling the globe is forced to visit, at least for a day. hongkong streets may have seemed to present an unparalleled mixture of races; canton's narrow alleys may have appeared strange and exotic; but singapore surpasses honkong in the number and picturesqueness of the races represented in its streets, as it easily surpasses canton in strange sights and in swarming toilers from many lands that fill the boats on its canals and the narrow, crooked streets that at night glow with light and resound with the clamor of alien tongues. singapore is built on an island which adjoins the extreme end of the malay peninsula. it is about sixty miles from the equator, and it has a climate that varies only a few degrees from seventy during the entire year. this heat would not be debilitating were it not for the extreme humidity of the atmosphere. to a stranger, especially if he comes from the pacific coast, the place seems like a turkish bath. the slightest physical exertion makes the perspiration stand out in beads on the face. singapore has a population of over three hundred thousand people; it has a great commercial business, which is growing every year; it already has the largest dry dock in the world. its bund is not so imposing as that of hongkong, but it has more public squares and its government buildings are far more handsome. as hongkong owes much of its splendid architecture and its air of stability to sir paul chator, so singapore owes its spacious avenues, its fine buildings, its many parks, its interesting museum and its famous botanical gardens to sir stamford raffles, one of the british empire-builders who have left indelibly impressed on the orient their genius for founding cities and constructing great public enterprises. yet, singapore, with far more business than manila, is destitute of a proper sewer system, and the streets in its native quarters reek with foul odors. the feature of singapore that first impresses the stranger is the variety of races seen in any of the streets, and this continues to impress him so long as he remains in the city. my stay in singapore was four days, due to the fact that it was necessary to wait here for the departure of the british west india company's steamer for rangoon and calcutta. in jinrikishas and pony carts i saw all quarters of the town, and my wonder grew every day at the remarkable show of costumes presented by the different races. one day, late in the afternoon, i sat down on a coping of the wall that surrounds a pretty park on orchard road, and in the space of a half hour watched the moving show that passed by. at this hour all singapore takes its outing to the botanical gardens, and one may study the people who have leisure and money. the favorite rig is still the victoria drawn by high-stepping horses, with coachman and postilion, but the automobile is evidently making rapid strides in popular favor, despite the fact that the heavy, humid air makes the odor of gasoline cling to the roadway. a high-class arab, with his keen, intellectual face, rides by with a bright malay driving the machine. then comes a fat and prosperous-looking parsee in his carriage, followed by a rich chinese merchant arrayed in spotless white, seated in a motor car, his family about him, and some relative or servant at the wheel. along moves a rickshaw with an east indian woman, the sun flashing on the heavy gold rings in her ears, while a carriage follows with a pretty blonde girl with golden hair, seated beside her chinese ayah, or nurse. a score of young britons come next in rickshaws, some carrying tennis racquets, and others reading books or the afternoon paper. the rickshaws here, unlike those of japan or china, carry two people. they are pulled by husky chinese coolies, who have as remarkable development of the leg muscles as their japanese brothers, with far better chests. in fact, the average chinese rickshaw coolie of singapore is a fine physical type, and he will draw for hours with little show of suffering a rickshaw containing two people. the pony cart of singapore is another unique institution. it is a four-wheeled cart, seating four people, drawn by a pony no larger than the average shetland. the driver sits on a little box in front, and at the end of the wagon is a basket in which rests the pony's allowance of green grass for the day. the pony cart is popular with parties of three or four and, as most of singapore's streets are level, the burden on the animal is not severe. this moving procession of the races goes on until eleven-thirty o'clock, the popular dinner hour all along the chinese coast. it is varied by the occasional appearance of a bullock cart, which has probably changed very little in hundreds of years. the bullocks have a pronounced hump at the shoulders, and are of the color and size of a jersey cow. the neckyoke is a mere bar of wood fastened to the pole, and the cart is heavy and ungainly. nowhere in singapore does one find coolies straining at huge loads as in china and japan, as this labor is given over to bullocks. here, however, both men and women carry heavy burdens on their heads, while the chinese use the pole and baskets, so familiar to all californians. the malays and east indians furnish the most picturesque feature of all street crowds. the malays, dark of skin, with keen faces, wear the sarong, a skirt of bright-colored silk or cotton wrapped about the loins and falling almost to the shoe. the sarong is scant and reminds one strongly of the hobble-skirt, as no malay is able to take a full stride in it. the skirt and jacket of the malay may vary, but the sarong is always of the same style, and the brighter the color the more it seems to please the wearer. the east indians are of many kinds. the sikhs, who are the police of hongkong, here share such duty with tamils from southern india and some chinese. no malay is ever seen in any low, menial employment. the malay is well represented on the electric cars, where he serves usually as conductor and sometimes as motorman. he is also an expert boatman and fisherman. he is very proud and is said to be extremely loyal to foreigners who treat him with justice and consideration. the malay, however, can not be depended on for labor on the rubber or cocoanut plantations, as he will not work unless he can make considerable money. ordinary wages do not appeal to a man in a country where eight cents is the cost of maintenance on rice and fish, with plenty of tea. the malay is a gentleman, even when in reduced circumstances, and he must be treated with consideration that would be lost or wasted on the ordinary chinese. the chinese occupy a peculiar position in singapore. it is the only british crown colony in which the chinese is accorded any equality with white men. here in the early days the chinese were welcomed not only for their ability to do rough pioneer work, but because of their commercial ability. from the outset they have controlled the trade with their countrymen in the malayan states, while at the same time they have handled all the produce raised by chinese. they have never done much in the export trade, nor have they proved successful in carrying on the steamship business, because they can not be taught the value of keeping vessels in fine condition and of catering to the tastes of the foreign traveling public. on the other hand, the great chinese merchants of singapore have amassed large fortunes and have built homes which surpass those of rich europeans. on orchard road, which leads to the botanical gardens, are several chinese residences which excite the traveler's wonder, because of the beauty of the buildings and grounds and the lavishness of ornament and decorations. these merchants, whose names are known throughout the malay states and as far as hongkong and manila, represent the chinese at his best, freed from all restrictions and permitted to give his commercial genius full play. strange night scenes in the city of singapore the chinese element in singapore is so overwhelming that it arrests the attention of the most careless tourist, but no one appreciates the enormous number of the mongolians in singapore until he visits the chinese and malay districts at night. with a friend i started out one night about eight o'clock. it was the first night in singapore that one could walk with any comfort. we went down north bridge road, one of the main avenues on which an electric car line runs. after walking a half-mile we struck off to the right where the lights were bright. just as soon as we left the main avenue we began to see life as it is in singapore after dark. the first native street was devoted to small hawkers, who lined both sides of the narrow thoroughfare. each had about six feet of space, and each had his name and his number as a licensed vender. the goods were of every description and of the cheapest quality. they had been brought in small boxes, and on these sat the chinese merchant and frequently his wife and children. a flare or two from cheap nut oil illuminated the scene. passing in front of these stands was a constantly moving crowd of chinese, malays and east indians of many races, all chaffering and talking at the top of their voices. at frequent intervals were street tea counters, where food was sold, evidently at very low prices. ranged along on benches were men eating rice and various stews that were taken piping hot from kettles resting on charcoal stoves. one old chinese woman had a very condensed cooking apparatus. over two small braziers she had two copper pots, each divided into four compartments and in each of these different food was cooking. back of the street peddlers were the regular stores, all of which were open and apparently doing a good business. as in hongkong, the chinese workmen labor until ten or eleven o'clock at night, even carpenters and basket-makers working a full force by the light of gas or electricity. the recent events in china had their reflex here. all the makers of shirts and clothing were feverishly busy cutting up and sewing the new flag of the revolution. long lines of red and blue bunting ran up and down these rooms, and each workman was driving his machine like mad, turning out a flag every few minutes. the fronts of most of these stores were decorated with flags of the revolution. the most conspicuous places of business on these streets were the large restaurants, where hundreds of chinese were eating their chow at small tables. the din was terrific, and the lights flashing on the naked yellow skins, wet with perspiration, made a strange spectacle. next to these eating houses in number were handsomely decorated places in which chinese women plied the most ancient trade known to history. some of these women were very comely, but few were finely dressed, as in this quarter cheapness seemed to be the rule in everything. around some of these places crowds of chinese gathered and exchanged comment apparently on attractive new arrivals in these resorts of vice. many of the inmates were young girls, fourteen or sixteen years old. less numerous than these houses were the opium dens, scattered throughout all these streets. these haunts of the drug that enslaves were long and narrow rooms, with a central passage and a long, low platform on each side. this platform was made of fine hardwood, and by constant use shone like old mahogany. ranged along on these platforms wide enough for two men, facing each other and using a common lamp, were scores of opium smokers. as many as fifty men could be accommodated in each of these large establishments. the opium was served as a sticky mass, and each man rolled some of it on a metal pin and cooked it over the lamp. when cooked, the ball of opium was thrust into a small hole in the bamboo opium pipe. then the smoker, lying on his side, drew the flame of the lamp against this opium and the smoke came up through the bamboo tube of the pipe and was inhaled. one cooking of opium makes never more than three whiffs of the pipe, sometimes only two. the effect on the novice is very exhilarating, but the seasoned smoker is forced to consume more and more of the drug to secure the desired effect. in one of these dens we watched a large chinese prepare his opium. he took only two whiffs, but the second one was so deep that the smoke made the tears run out of his eyes. his companion was so far under the influence of the drug that his eyes were glazed and he was staring at some vision called up by the powerful narcotic. one old chinese, seeing our interest in the spectacle, shook his head and said: "opium very bad for chinaman; make him poor; make him weak." further along in this quarter we came upon several huge chinese restaurants, ablaze with light and noisy with music. we were told that dinners were being given in honor of revolutionist victories. in all our night ramble through the chinese and malay quarters of singapore we saw not a single european, yet we met only courteous treatment everywhere, and our curiosity was taken as a compliment. singapore is well policed by various races, among which the sikhs and bengali predominate. an occasional malay is met acting as a police officer, but it is evident that such work does not appeal to the native of the straits settlements. on our return to the hotel we crossed a large estuary which is spanned by several bridges. here were hundreds of small boats moored to the shore, the homes of thousands of river people. this business of transportation on the water is in the hands of the malays, who are most expert boatmen. it is a pleasure to watch one of these men handle a huge cargo boat. with his large oar he will scull rapidly, while his assistant uses a long pole. one of the sights of singapore is the botanical gardens, about three and one-half miles from town. the route is along orchard road and tanglin road, two beautiful avenues that are lined with comfortable bungalows of europeans, and magnificent mansions of chinese millionaires. the gardens occupy a commanding position overlooking the surrounding country, and they have been laid out with much skill. the drives are bordered with ornamental trees from all lands. the most beautiful of all the palms is the traveler's tree from madagascar. it is a palm the fronds of which grow up like a regular fan. at a little distance it looks like a peacock's tail spread to the full extent. it is so light, graceful and feathery that it satisfies the eye as no other palm does. of other palms there are legion, from the mountain cabbage palm of the west indies to endless varieties from malay, madagascar and western africa. characteristic sights in burma's largest city one of the characteristic sights of rangoon is that of the big siamese elephants piling teak in the lumber yards along rangoon river. it is the same sight that kipling pictured in the lines in his perfect ballad, _mandalay_, which an englishman who knows his burma well says is "the finest ballad in the world, with all the local color wrong." these lumber yards are strung along the river, but are easily reached by an electric car. several are conducted by chinese, but the finest yard is in charge of the government. at the first chinese yard was the largest elephant in the city, a huge animal fifty-five years old, with great tusks admirably fitted for lifting large logs. a dozen tourists were grouped about the yard in the early morning, for these elephants are only worked in the morning and evening hours, when it is cool. an east indian coolie was mounted on his back, or rather just back of his ears, with his legs dangling loose. with his naked feet he indicated whether the elephant was to go to the right or left, and when he wished to emphasize an order he hit the beast a blow upon the head with a heavy steel rod. much of the work which this elephant did was spectacular, as it showed the enormous strength of the animal as well as his great intelligence. he took up on his tusks a log of teak, the native wood of this country, as hard as hickory and much heavier, and, with the aid of his trunk, stood with it at attention until every camera fiend had taken his picture. then his driver made the huge beast move a large log of teak from a muddy hole by sheer force of the head and neck. the animal dropped almost to his knees, and then putting forth all his strength he actually pushed the log, which weighed about a ton and one-half, through the mud up to the gangplank of the saw. then he piled several huge logs one upon the other, to show his skill in this work. leaving this yard the party walked about a half-mile through trails, with marshy land on each side, to the big government timber yard. here were thousands of logs which had been cut far up in the teak forests of the interior, dragged through the swamps of the irrawaddy by elephants, then floated down the great river to rangoon. all the logs in this yard were marked with a red cross to signify that they belonged to the government. down by the river shore, where the ground was so soft that their feet sank deep into the slimy mud, were five elephants engaged in hauling logs up from the river to the dry ground near the shore. the chief object of interest in rangoon is the great shwe dagon pagoda, which dominates the whole city. its golden summit may be seen for many miles gleaming above dull green masses of foliage. this pagoda is the center of the buddhist faith, as it is said to contain veritable relics of gautama as well as of the three buddhas who came before him. thousands of pilgrims from all parts of burmah, siam, cochin-china, korea, ceylon and other oriental countries visit the pagoda every year and their offerings at the various shrines amount to millions of dollars. the pagoda differs absolutely from the temples of japan and china in form, material and the arrangement of lesser shrines; but its impressiveness is greatly injured by the presence of hundreds of hucksters, who sell not only curios and souvenirs of the pagoda, but food and drink. the pagoda, which is about two miles from the business center of rangoon, is built upon a mound. the circumference is thirteen hundred and fifty-five feet and the total height from the base is three hundred and seventy feet. it is constructed in circular style, its concentric rings gradually lessening in size until the top is reached. this is surmounted by a gilt iron work or "ti" on which little bells are hung. this "ti" was a gift from the late king of burmah, who spent a quarter of a million dollars on its decoration with gold and precious stones. the mound on which the pagoda stands is divided into two rectangular terraces. the upper terrace, nine hundred feet by six hundred and eighty-five, is one hundred and sixty-six feet above the level of the ground. the ascent is by three flights of brick stairs, the fourth flight at the back being closed to permit of the building of fortifications by which the english may defend the pagoda in any emergency. the southern or main entrance is made conspicuous by two enormous leogryphs, which are of plastered brick. up these steep stairs the visitor climbs, pestered by loathsome beggars and importuned on every hand to buy relics, flowers and articles of gold and silver. one would fancy he was in a great bazar rather than in the entrance hall of the finest monument in the world erected in honor of buddha. the four chapels ranged around the rectangular terrace are ornamented by figures of the sitting buddha. then one visits a score of magnificently decorated shrines, in which are buddhas in every variety of position. in one is the reclining gautama in alabaster, in whose honor the pagoda was built. in others are gautamas of brass, ivory, glass, clay and wood. before many of these shrines candles are burning and devotees are seated or are praying with their faces bowed to the stone pavement. on one side of the platform is a row of miniature pagodas, all encrusted with decoration of gold and precious stones, the gifts of thousands of pious devotees. among these shrines are many small bells which are rung by worshippers when they deposit their offerings, and one great bell (the third largest in the world, weighing forty-two and one-fourth tons), given by king tharrawaddy. the eyes of the visitor are wearied with the splendid decoration of the chapels, the gilding, the carving, the inlaid glass work. it seems as though there was no end to the rows on rows of buddhas in every conceivable position. interspersed among them are tall poles from which float long streamers of bamboo bearing painted historical pictures, including those of the capture of the pagoda by the british. thousands crowd these platforms. some offer gifts to various shrines, others say prayer after prayer, still others strike bells to give warning to evil spirits that they have offered up their petitions to buddha, others hang eagerly on the words of fortune tellers. all buy food and drink and the whole place suggests in its good cheer a country picnic rather than a pilgrimage to the greatest buddhist shrine in the world. when one has left the pagoda he bears the memory of magnificent decorations, of vast crowds, but of little real reverence. the great golden pagoda itself is the dominating feature in every view of rangoon, just as the washington monument dominates all other structures in washington. [illustration: plate xxv queen's road in hongkong. this is one of the most picturesque streets in the orient, with large stores and splendid gilded signs on each side. the buildings are so constructed that the sidewalk becomes a shaded arcade] [illustration: plate xxvi flower market in a hongkong street--one of the prettiest sights in hongkong, as orchids, irises, lilies and other blossoms are always on sale] [illustration: plate xxvii coolies carrying burdens at hongkong. chinese coolies using the bamboo pole are a common sight in hongkong. they carry several hundred pounds, moving at a dog trot] [illustration: plate xxviii the spacious foreign bund at hongkong, with the row of lofty business buildings. the ferry takes one to kowloon, the native city, opposite hongkong] [illustration: plate xxix chinese junks in hongkong harbor, these junks, with their curious sails of matting and bamboo spars, form one of the features of every chinese harbour or sea view] [illustration: plate xxx view of the water-front at canton. this general view of the pearl river and the canton bund, or water-front, shows the enormous floating population on the river] [illustration: plate xxxi the new chinese bund at canton. the chinese recently completed this bund. it contrasts strongly with the ancient walled city, a stone's throw in the rear] [illustration: plate xxxii a confucian festival at singapore. this shows the elaborate street decorations to commemorate the festival of confucius in the chinese quarter] [illustration: plate xxxiii a main street in the native quarter of singapore. the shops are small and the shopkeepers live in the rooms above. the flags displayed are those of the new chinese republic] [illustration: plate xxxiv the y. m. c. a. building at singapore. this fine structure has many counterparts in the chief oriental cities, where the association is doing a great work] [illustration: plate xxxv the great shwe dagon pagoda at rangoon. the finest buddhist temple in all indo-china, containing alleged relics of gautama. it is gilded from base to summit and may be seen forty miles at sea] [illustration: plate xxxvi entrance to the shwe dagon pagoda. on each side is an enormous leogryph, built of brick and covered with plaster. the porch has a superbly carved roof] [illustration: plate xxxvii burmese worshipping before shrine in the pagoda at rangoon. these figures, mainly women and children, show the national dress. note the richness of decoration of the shrines.] [illustration: plate xxxviii riverside scene at rangoon. here are the native cargo boats which bring rice and other products down the irrawaddy. rangoon has a trade second only to that of calcutta and bombay] [illustration: plate xxxix trained elephant piling teak at rangoon. this is one of the great sights of the orient. the elephants work in the lumber yards along the water-front and lift logs that weigh one and one-half tons] [illustration: plate xl palm avenue, royal lakes, rangoon. this characteristic view is from a pretty park in rangoon. it shows the summit of the pagoda in the distance] india, the land of temples, palaces and monuments calcutta, the most beautiful of oriental cities calcutta, the great commercial port of northern india and the former capital of the empire, is the most beautiful oriental city, not even excepting hongkong. its main claim to this distinction is the possession of the famous maidan or esplanade, which runs along the hoogly river for nearly two miles and which far surpasses the luneta of manila in picturesqueness. the maidan is three-quarters of a mile wide at its beginning and it broadens out to one and one-quarter miles in width at its lower end. government house, the residence of the viceroy, is opposite the northern end of the maidan, while at the southern end is belvedere, the headquarters of the lieutenant-governor of bengal. with historic fort william on one side and most of the large hotels, the big clubs and the imperial museum on the other, the maidan is really the center of all civic life. at the southeast end is the race course; not far away is the fine cathedral. near by are the beautiful eden gardens (the gift of the sisters of the great lord auckland), which are noteworthy for the burmese pagoda, transported from prome and set up here on the water's edge. it is seldom that a city is laid out on such magnificent lines as is calcutta. it reminds one of washington in its picturesque boulevards and avenues, all finely shaded with noble mango trees. and it also has the distinction of green turf even in the heat of summer, owing to the heavy dews that refresh the grass like showers. calcutta is associated in the minds of most readers with the infamous black hole into which one hundred and forty-six wretched white people were crowded on a hot night of june in and out of which only twenty-three emerged alive on the following morning. the black hole was the regimental jail of old fort william and its site is now marked by a pavement of black marble and a tablet adjoining the fine postoffice building, while across the street is an imposing monument to the memory of the victims, whose names are all enumerated. the hole was twenty-two by fourteen feet, while it was only eighteen feet in height. these prisoners who were flung into this little jail were residents of calcutta who fell into the hands of the nawab of murshedabad. calcutta is also famous as the birthplace of thackeray, a bust of whom ornaments the art gallery of the imperial museum. scattered about the maidan are statues of a dozen men whose deeds have shed luster on english arms or diplomacy. calcutta, as the first city of india that i had seen, impressed me very strongly, although the native life has been colored somewhat by contact with british and other europeans. here, for the first time, one sees ninety-nine out of one hundred people in the streets wearing turbans. here also the women mingle freely in the streets, wearing long robes which they wind dexterously about their bodies, leaving the lower legs and the right arm bare. a few cover the face, but the great majority leave it exposed. many are hideously disfigured by large nose rings, while others have small rings or jewels set in one nostril. nearly every woman wears bracelets on arms and wrists, heavy anklets and, in many cases, massive gold or silver rings on the big toes. in some cases what look like heavy necklaces are wound several times around the ankles. it is the custom of the lower and middle classes not to put their savings in a bank, but to melt down the coin and make it into bracelets or other ornaments, which are worn by their women. here in calcutta also one sees for the first time hundreds of men and women wearing the marks of their caste on their foreheads, either painted in red or marked in white with the ash of cow dung. although the main streets of calcutta are distinctly european, a walk of a few blocks in any direction from the main business section will bring you into the native or the chinese quarter, where the streets are narrow, the houses low between stories and the shops mere holes in the wall, with only a door for ventilation. in one quarter every store is kept by a chinese and here a large amount of manufacturing is done. in other quarters natives are carrying on all kinds of manufacture, in the same primitive way that they worked two thousand years ago. the carpenter uses tools that are very much like those in an american boy's box of toy tools; the shoemaker does all the work of turning out a finished shoe from the hide of leather on his wall. outside these stores in the street the most common beast of burden is a small bullock of the size and color of a jersey cow; these little animals pull enormous loads, and they are so clever that when they see an electric car approaching they will start on the run and clear the track. many of the houses in the native quarter of calcutta are built of adobe, with earthen tiles, which make them bear a strong resemblance to the adobe dwellings of the spanish-californians before the american occupation. in many cases very little straw is used in this adobe, for the walls have frequently crumbled away under the heavy rains of winter. other houses are built of brick, faced with plaster, which is either painted or whitewashed. what impresses any visitor is the squalor and the wretchedness of these homes of india's poor. the clothing of a whole family is not worth one american dollar, while about ten cents in our money will feed a family of four. the houses have no furniture, except a bed of the most primitive pattern, made of latticed reeds; the smoke from the cooking fire goes up through the roof or else finds its way out the open door; seldom are there any windows, all the air coming in at the open door; the floor of the house is of dirt and on this squat father and mother and the children, with the family goat. in the small shops work is carried on seven days in the week until nine or ten o'clock at night, with an hour for lunch and siesta at midday. the hopelessness of the lot of the hindoo (who is bound by rigid caste rules to follow in the footsteps of his father) can never be appreciated until one has seen him here in his native land. for two hours i watched scores of natives taking a wash at the large, free bathing ghat near the pontoon bridge. on the river front is a restaurant, and back of this steps lead down to a spacious platform on the level of the river. a score of men and boys and one woman were taking a bath in the dirty water, which was thick with mud washed up by passing steamers. a few of these bathers had rented towels from an office on the stairs, but the great majority simply rubbed themselves with their hands and then dried in the sun. all washed their faces in the dirty water and rinsed their mouths with it. the men took off their loin clothes and washed these out, then wrapped them about their bodies and came out dripping water. the lone woman was very fat. she waded into the water and when she came out her thin robe clung to her massive form revealing all its curves. she calmly took a seat on the stairs and proceeded to massage her head. the most interesting place near calcutta is the royal botanical gardens, situated on the opposite side of the river and about six miles from town. these gardens were laid out in and they vie with the botanic gardens at singapore in the variety of trees and shrubs from all parts of the tropics. here is the great banyan tree which covers one thousand square feet and is one hundred and forty-two years old. at a height of five and one-half feet from the ground the circumference of the main trunk is fifty-one feet; the height is eighty-five feet, while it has five hundred and seventy aerial roots, which have actually taken root in the ground. the tree at a little distance looks like a small grove. the imperial museum at calcutta is well worth a couple of hours, for it contains one of the finest collections of antiquities in the orient. the museum is housed in an enormous building facing the maidan, which has a frontage of three hundred feet and a depth of two hundred and seventy feet. in the ethnological gallery are arranged figures of all the native races of india with their costumes; agricultural implements, fishing and hunting appliances, models of indian village life, specimens of ancient and modern weapons and many other exhibits. another room that will repay study is a gallery containing old steel and wood engravings of the great characters in the mutiny, with busts of clive, havelock, outram and nicholson, and with a life-size bust of thackeray. bathing and burning the dead at benares it is estimated that one million pilgrims visit the sacred city of benares every year, and it is these pilgrims that furnish the largest income which the city receives from any source. here are the most holy shrines of buddhism; here vishnu and siva have their strongholds, and here must come hindoos from all parts of india to bathe in the sacred waters of the ganges and to offer up prayers at the many holy shrines in the city's temples. benares is sacred because here buddha first made his residence. the place that he selected was ancient sarnath, six miles from benares, which is now a heap of ruins, in which british government experts are delving for remains of the great city that was founded six centuries before the christian era. at sarnath buddha built a great temple and founded a school from which his disciples spread to all parts of india. but after a.d. buddhism disappeared gradually from india, and hindooism took its place. the fine temples that now line the ganges for three miles were built by maratha princes in the seventeenth century. they also built the scores of bathing ghats that now furnish one of the most picturesque spectacles that the world affords. a ghat in hindustani is a stone stairway that leads down to the water, and benares has a succession of these magnificent stairways leading down to the ganges, overlooked by palaces of many maharajas and temples built by rulers and priests. no sight more splendid could be conceived than that of these domes and minarets flashing in the rays of the early morning sun while thousands of devout believers crowd the bathing ghats and offer prayers to vishnu, after they have bathed in the waters of the ganges; and mourning relatives burn the bodies of their dead after these have had the sacred water poured over their faces. [illustration: hindoos bathing in the ganges at benares. this is a view of the dasaswamedh ghat, the most popular bathing place in the sacred city. note the holy men under the umbrellas, who take tribute of all bathers] the visitor who wishes to see the pious hindoos bathe in the ganges goes to the river in the early morning soon after the sun has risen. he descends one of the large ghats and takes a boat, in which he may be rowed down the river past the bathing ghats and the one ghat where the dead are burned. the scene is one that will never be forgotten. against the clear sky is outlined a succession of domes and spires that mark the position of a score of sacred shrines, with two slender minarets that rise from the mosque built by the great moslem emperor, aurunzeb. the sunlight flashes on these domes and spires and it lights up thousands of bathing floats and stands that line the muddy banks of the river. the floats are dotted with hundreds of bathers and the number of these increases every few minutes. they come by hundreds down the great stone stairways to their favorite bathing places, where, after a thorough bath, they may be shaved or massaged or may listen to the expounding of the hindoo sacred books by a learned brahmin sitting in the shade of a huge umbrella. a characteristic feature of this hillside is the number of these large umbrellas, each of which marks the place of a priest or a holy man who has done some marvels of penance that give him a strong hold on the superstitious natives and induce them to pay him well for prayers or a sacred talisman. with my boat moored near the bank and directly opposite the manikarnika ghat, the favorite place on the river, i watched the stream of bathers for nearly an hour. the fanatical devotion that will induce a reasonable human being to bathe in the waters of the ganges seems incredible to anyone from the western world. the water of the sacred river is here of the consistency of pea soup. the city's sewer pipes empty into the ganges just above the bathing ghats, and the current carries this filth directly to the place which the hindoos have selected for their rites. the water is not only muddy and unclean, but it offends the nose. yet hindoos of good family bathe here side by side with the poverty stricken. they use the mud of the ganges in lieu of soap; they scrub their bodies thoroughly, and then they actually take this foul-smelling water in their mouths and clean their teeth with it. this creed of buddha is a pure democracy, for there is no distinction of class in bathing. women bathe by the side of men, although they remain covered with the gauze-like garments that are a sop to modesty. the manikarnika ghat is the most picturesque of all these bathing places along the ganges, as the long flight of stone steps is in good preservation and the background of temples and palaces satisfies the eye. the river front for thirty feet is densely crowded with bathers who stand on small floats or go into the shallow water. with a western crowd so dense as this there would be infringments of individual rights that would lead to quarrels and fights, but the hindoo is slow to anger, and, like the japanese, he has great courtesy for his fellows. hundreds bathed at the ghat while i watched them and no trouble ensued. nothing could be more striking, nothing more oriental than the picture of scores of bathers, in bright-hued garments, moving up and down these long flights of massive steps. in the background were a half-dozen temples, the most noteworthy of which is the red-domed temple of the rajah of amethi, whose beautiful palace overlooks this scene. near the water is a curious leaning temple, whose foundations were evidently unsettled by the severe earthquake which destroyed several temples farther down the river. the busiest men on these bathing ghats are the hindoo priests, who reap a harvest from the hundreds of pilgrims who visit the ghats during the day. these priests cannot be escaped by the poorest hindoo. they levy toll from every one who descends these long flights of stairs. one fellow i watched as he sat under his great umbrella. he had his sacred books spread before him, but he was given no leisure for reading them, as a constant stream of clients passed before him. some of these were regular daily visitors from benares, who pay a certain rate every week or every month, according to their financial standing. others were pilgrims who, in their enthusiasm over the sacred ganges (which they had traveled hundreds of miles to bathe in), were not careful in regard to their fees. others were mourning relatives who applied for prayers for the corpse which they had brought to the waterside, and still others demanded hurried prayers for the dying, whose last breath would be drawn by the bank of the sacred river. incidentally the priests sold charms and amulets guaranteed to bring good fortune. most of the payments were in copper pice, four of which make one of our cents, but many of these priests had great heaps of this coin in front of them, showing that though india may be suffering from a bad harvest the faker may always feed on the fat of the land. the spectacle, however, which stamps benares upon the memory is the burning of the dead at a ghat by the ganges. this ghat is reserved exclusively for the cremation of hindoo dead. no mussulman can use it. it was about eight o'clock in the morning when my boat reached this burning ghat. already one body had been placed on a funeral pyre of wood. the guide said this body was that of a poor man who had no relatives or friends, as the place where the relatives sit until the cremation is complete was empty. soon, however, two men came rushing down the stone steps with a corpse strapped to a bamboo stretcher. the body was that of a woman, dressed in red garments, which signified that she was a married woman. unmarried women are arrayed in yellow and other colors, while men must be content with white. the stretcher-bearers placed their burden with its feet in the ganges and then went in search of wood which is purchased from a dealer. soon they had a supply, which they piled up in the form of a bier, and on this they placed the woman's corpse. then one of the men, who, the guide said, was the dead woman's husband, with tears streaming from his eyes, bore some of the water of the ganges to the bier, exposed the face of the dead and poured the sacred water upon her mouth and her eyes. then while his companion piled wood above the body the husband sought the low-caste hindoos who sell fire for burning the body. he soon returned with several large bundles of coarse straw, one of which was smoking. seven times the husband passed around the bier with the smoking straw before he applied the flame to the wood. the fire licked greedily at the wood, and soon the flames had reached the body. then the husband and his friend repaired to a stand near by, from which they watched the cremation. meanwhile two other bodies had been rushed down to the water's edge. one was evidently that of a wealthy woman, dressed in yellow silk and borne by two richly garbed attendants. the other was that of an old man, attended by his son. the latter was very speedy in securing wood and in building a funeral pyre. soon the old man's corpse was stretched on the bier and the son was applying the torch. he was a good-looking young fellow, dressed in the clean, white garments of mourning and freshly shaved for the funeral ceremonies. while he was burning the body of his father another corpse of a man was rushed down to the river's edge and placed upon a bier. this body was fearfully emaciated, and when the two attendants raised it in its white shroud, one arm that hung down limp was not larger than that of a healthy five-year-old boy, while the legs were mere skin and bones. it was an ugly sight to see the ganges water poured over the face of this corpse, which was set in a ghastly grin with wide-open eyes. the man had evidently died while he was being hurried to the burning ghat, as the hindoos believe that it is evil for one to die in the house. hence most of the corpses have staring eyes, as they breathed their last on the way to the river. no solemnity marks this cremation by the river's edge. the relatives who bring down the body haggle over the price of the wood and try to cheapen the sum demanded by the low-caste man for fire for the burning. the greed of the priest who performs the last rite and who prepares the relatives for the cremation is an unlovely sight. all about the burning ghat where the poor dead are being reduced to ashes hundreds are bathing or washing their clothes. the spectacle that so profoundly impresses a stranger is to them so common as to excite no interest. lucknow and cawnpore, cities of the mutiny lucknow and cawnpore are the two cities of india that are most closely associated in the minds of most readers with the great mutiny. the one recalls the most heroic defense in the history of any country; the other recalls the most piteous tragedy in the long record of suffering and death scored against the sepoys. the british government in both of these cities has raised memorials to the men who gave their lives in defending them and, though the art is inferior in both, the story is so full of genuine courage, loyalty, devotion and self-sacrifice that it will always find eager readers. so the pilgrims to these shrines of the mutiny cannot fail to be touched by the relics of the men and women who showed heroism of the highest order. when one goes through the rooms in the ruined residency at lucknow he feels again the thrill with which he first read of the splendid defense made by sir henry lawrence and of the scotch girl who declared she heard the pipes of the campbells a day before they actually broke on the ears of the beleaguered garrison. and when one stands in front of the site of the old well at cawnpore, into which the bleeding bodies of the butchered women and children of the garrison were thrown, the tears come to his eyes over the terrible fate of these poor victims of the cruelty of nana sahib. the sight of these indian cities also makes one appreciate more fully the tremendous odds against which this mere handful of english men and women contended. lucknow is the fifth city in size in the indian empire. it is reached by a six hours' ride from benares which is interesting, as the railroad runs through a good farming country, in which many of the original trees have been left. lucknow at the outbreak of the mutiny was fortunate in the possession of one of the ablest army commanders in the indian service. sir henry lawrence, when he saw that mutiny was imminent, gathered a large supply of stores and ammunition in the residency at lucknow. when the siege began lawrence found himself in a well-fortified place, with large supplies. about one thousand refugees were in the residency and the safety of these people was due largely to the massive walls of the building and to the skill and courage with which the defense was handled. in reading the story of this siege of five months, from june to november, it seems incredible that a small garrison could withstand so constant a bombardment of heavy guns and so harassing a fire of small arms; but when you go through the residency the reason is obvious. here are the ruins of a building erected by an old arab chief during the mohammedan rule in lucknow. the walls are from three to five feet in thickness, of a kind of flat, red brick like the modern tile. when laid up well in good mortar such walls are as solid as though built of stone. what added to the safety of the building was the great underground apartments, built originally for summer quarters for the old moslem's harem, but used during the siege as a retreat for the women and children. so well protected were these rooms that only one shell ever penetrated them and this shot did no damage. the building reveals traces of the heavy fire to which it was subjected, but in no case were the walls broken down. the story of the siege of lucknow has been told by poets and prose writers for over a half century, but the theme is still full of interest. tennyson dealt with it in a ballad that is full of fire, each verse ending with the spirited refrain: and ever upon the topmost roof the banner of england blew. all that it is necessary to do here is to refresh the reader's memory with the salient events. the besieged were admirably handled by competent officers and they beat off repeated attacks by the mutineers (who outnumbered them more than one hundred to one). lawrence was fatally wounded on july the second and died two days later. in september general havelock, after desperate fighting, made his way into lucknow, but his force was so small that only fifteen hundred men were added to the garrison. it was not until november the seventeenth that the garrison was finally relieved by the union of forces under havelock and outram and sir colin campbell. never in the history of warfare has a garrison had to endure greater hardships than that of lucknow. incessant attacks by night and day kept the small force worn out by constant guard duty and, to add to their miseries, intense heat was made more merciless by swarms of flies. when one bears in mind that the indian summer brings heat of from one hundred and ten to one hundred and forty degrees it may be seen how great was the courage of the garrison that could fight bravely and cheerfully under such heavy odds. the memorial tablets at lucknow, delhi, cawnpore and other places bear witness to this heroism of the british soldier during the mutiny, but you do not fully appreciate this splendid courage until you see the country and feel the power of its sun. cawnpore, which is only three hours' ride from lucknow, is another city of india that recalls the saddest tragedy of the mutiny. here it was that bad judgment of the general in charge led to great suffering and the final butchery of all except a few of the residents. sir hugh wheeler, a veteran officer, wisely doubted the fidelity of the sepoys and decided to establish a place where he could store supplies and assure a safe asylum for the women and children; but, instead of selecting the magazine, which was on the river and had strong walls, he actually went down two miles in a level plain and threw up earth entrenchments. this he did because he said he feared to excite the suspicion of the sepoys and thus incite them to revolt. the result was disastrous, for the earth walls that he raised furnished poor protection and the place was raked by the native artillery and small arms from every point of the compass. a worse place to defend could not have been chosen, but the twenty officers and two hundred men held it against a horde of mutinous natives for twenty days of blazing heat. the only water for the little garrison was obtained under severe fire of the enemy from a well sixty feet deep. finally, when the supply of provisions was nearly exhausted, general wheeler agreed to surrender to the nana sahib, provided the men were allowed to carry arms and ammunition and boats were furnished for safe conduct down the river. of course, the nana accepted these terms, but it seems incredible that a veteran army officer should have trusted the lives of women and children to sepoys who were as cruel as our own apaches. the little garrison, with the wounded, the women and the children, was escorted down to the river and placed on barges. but when the order was given to push off, the treacherous sepoys grounded the boats in the mud and the gunners of nana sahib opened fire on the barges. the grape shot set fire to the matting of the barges and many of the wounded were smothered. one boat escaped down the river, but the survivors were captured after several days of hardship, the men murdered and the women and children brought back to cawnpore. the men in the other boats who survived were shot, but one hundred and twenty-five women and children were returned to cawnpore as prisoners. they spent seven anxious days and then when nana sahib saw he could not hold cawnpore any longer he ordered the sepoys to shoot the english women and children. to the credit of these mutineers they refused to obey orders and fired into the ceiling of the wretched rooms where the prisoners were lodged. then nana sahib sent for five butchers and these men, with their long knives, murdered the helpless victims of this monster of cruelty. on the following morning the bodies of dead and dying were cast into the well at cawnpore. on the site of this well has been raised a costly memorial surmounted by a marble angel of the resurrection. the design is not impressive, but no one can see it without pity for the unfortunates who were delivered into the hands of the most atrocious character of modern times. the memorial church at cawnpore, which cost one hundred thousand dollars, contains a series of tablets to those who fell in the mutiny. the taj mahal, the world's loveliest building agra is chiefly noteworthy for the taj mahal, which is acknowledged to be the most beautiful building in the world; though the city would be worthy of a visit because of the many splendid mosques and palaces built by the great mogul emperors and others. in fact, agra was the capital of the mohammedan empire in north india until aurungzeb moved it permanently to delhi; hence the city is rich in specimens of the best moslem work in forts, palaces, mosques and tombs. agra has about two hundred thousand population. it is on the jumna river and is almost equally distant from calcutta and bombay, eight hundred and forty-two miles from the former and eight hundred and forty-nine miles from the latter. it will impress any traveler by its cleanliness when compared with calcutta, benares or lucknow. the land seems to be more fertile than that around any of these three cities and the standard of living higher. the shops are clean and bright and a specialty is made of gold and silver embroidery and imitation of the old mohammedan inlay work in marble. most of the fine moslem architecture is found inside the ancient fort, which, with its massive wall, is in a good state of preservation. the taj mahal may be seen many times without losing any of its charm. it is reached by a short drive from the city and its beautiful dome and minarets may be seen from many parts of agra and its suburbs. this tomb, built of white marble, was erected by shah jehan, the chief builder among the mogul emperors of india, in memory of his favorite wife, arjmand banu. she married shah jehan in and died fourteen years after, as she was giving birth to her eighth child. shah jehan, who had already built many fine palaces and mosques, determined to perpetuate her memory for all time by erecting the finest tomb in the world. so he planned the taj, which required twenty-two years and twenty million dollars to build; but so well was the work done that nearly three hundred years have left little trace on its walls or its splendid decorations. this mogul despot, who knew many women, spent an imperial fortune in fashioning this noblest memorial to love ever built by the hand of man. incidentally he probably sacrificed twenty thousand coolies, for he built the taj by forced labor, the same kind that reared the pyramids and carved the sphinx. all the material was brought from great distances. the white marble came from jeypore and was hauled in bullock carts or carried by elephants; the jasper came from the punjab, the jade from china and the precious stones from many parts of central asia, from thibet to arabia. the emperor summoned the best architects and workers in precious stones of his time and asked them for designs. it is evident that many hands united in the plans of the building, but history gives the credit for the main design to a persian. an italian architect lent aid in the ornamentation and three inlaid flowers are shown to-day as specimens of his work. the building itself is only a shadow of its former magnificence--for the many alien conquerors of india have despoiled in it in succession, taking away the solid silver gates, the diamonds, rubies, sapphires and other precious stones from the flower decorations, and even the gold and silver from the mosaic work. all the precious stones looted by vandal hands have been restored by imitations, which closely resemble the priceless originals. restorations have also been made where the marble has been defaced or broken. the taj stands in the midst of a great garden, laid out with so much skill that from any part of its many beautiful walks fine views may be had of the dome and the minarets. this garden is planted to many tropical trees and flowering shrubs whose foliage brings out in high relief the beauty of the flawless marble tomb. the main gateway of the garden, built of red sandstone, would be regarded as a splendid work of art were it not for the superior beauty of the tomb itself. the gate is inlaid in white marble with inscriptions from the koran, and it is surmounted by twenty little marble cupolas. once inside the gate the beauty and the majesty of the taj strike one like a physical blow. simple as is the design, so perfectly has it been wrought out that the building gives the impression of the last word in delicate and unique ornamentation. the white marble base on which the building rests is three hundred and thirteen feet square and rises eighteen feet from the ground. the tomb itself is one hundred and eighty-six feet square, with a dome that rises two hundred and twenty feet above the base. at each corner of the base is a graceful minaret of white marble one hundred and thirty-seven feet high. although no color is used on the exterior, the decoration is so rich as to prevent all monotony. [illustration: front view of the taj mahal, agra. this unusual view was taken by mr. isaac o. upham from the level of the main approach. it throws into strong relief the two lines of cypresses and gives a perfect reproduction of the taj in the winter] in every detail the taj satisfies the eye, with the single exception of the work on the minarets. the squares of marble that cover these minarets are laid in dark-colored mortar which brings out strongly each stone. it would have lent more softness to these minarets had the individual stones not been revealed, an effect that could have been secured by using white mortar. when the shades of evening fall these minarets are far more beautiful than by day, as they are softened by the wiping out of the lines about the stones. under the strong light of the noonday sun the marble that covers the dome shows various shades ranging from light gray to pearly white, but by the soft evening light all these colors are merged and the dome looks like a huge soap bubble resting light as foam on the body of the tomb. a front photograph of the taj gives a good idea of its effect. standing at the portal of the main entrance one gets the superb effect of the marble pathway that borders the two canals in which the building is mirrored. midway across this pathway is a broad, raised marble platform, with a central fountain, from which the best view of the building may be secured. the path on each side from this platform to the main stairway is bordered by a row of cypress and back of these are great mango trees at least twenty feet high. these should be removed and smaller trees substituted, as they interfere seriously with a perfect view of the tomb. from this platform the eye rests on the taj with a sense of perfect satisfaction that is given by no other building i have ever seen. the very simplicity of the design aids in this effect. it seems well nigh impossible that a mere tomb of white marble should convey so vivid an impression of completeness and majesty, yet at the same time that every detail should suggest lightness and delicacy. the little cupolas below the dome as well as the pinnacles of the minarets add to this effect of airy grace. when one ascends the steps to the main door he begins to perceive the secret of this effect on the senses. everything is planned for harmony and proportion. the pointed arch, of which all moslem architects were enamored, is shown in the main doorway and in the principal windows of the front. this doorway rises almost to the full height of the tomb and on each side are recessed windows, with beautifully pointed tops. all the angles and spandrels of the building are inlaid with precious stones as well as with texts from the koran. in the center of the building is an octagonal chamber, twenty-four feet on each side, with various rooms around it devoted to the imperial tombs. a dome, fifty-eight feet in diameter, rises to a height of eighty feet, beneath which, inclosed by a trellis-work screen of white marble, are the tombs of the favorite of the palace and of the great emperor. the emperor, with a touch of the oriental despot, has made his tomb a little larger than that of the woman whom he honored in this unique fashion. the delicate tracery in marble, so characteristic of mogul work of the sixteenth century, is seen here at its best, as well as the inlays of the lotus and other flowers in sapphire, turquoise and other stones. the effect is highly decorative and at the same time chaste and subdued. a feature which impresses every visitor is the remarkable trellis work in marble. a solid slab of marble, about six feet by four and about two inches in thickness, is used as a panel. this is cut out into many designs that remind one of fine old lace. these panels abound in every important room of the taj. the taj has suffered little serious damage from the conquerors who successively despoiled it of its wealth of precious stones. the places of these jewels have been supplied with imitations which are almost as effective as the originals. in a few instances the marble has been chipped or broken, but, through the generosity of lord curzon, these blemishes have been removed, and the whole structure exists to-day almost as it did three hundred years ago when akbar's grandson completed it and found it good. the taj should be seen by day and again at nightfall. in the full glare of the brilliant indian sun the dome and the minarets stand out with extraordinary clearness, yet the lightness and buoyancy of the dome is not injured by the fierce light. seen at sundown the taj is at its best. all the lines are softened; the minarets and the perfect dome give an appearance of lightness and grace not of this world; they suggest the cloud-capped towers and gorgeous palaces of the poet's vision. as the afterglow fades, the taj takes on an air of mystery and aloofness; the perfect lines melt into one another and the whole structure is blurred as though it were seen in a dream. then one bids adieu to the world's perfect building, thankful that he has been given the opportunity to enjoy the greatest marvel of architecture, which leaves on the mind the same impression left by splendid music or the notes of a great singer. words are poor to describe things like the taj, which become our cherished possessions and may be recalled to cheer hours of despondency or grief. delhi and its ancient mohammedan ruins delhi, the ancient mogul capital of india, is an interesting city, not only because of its present-day life but because it contains so many memorials of the mohammedan conquest of the country. the ancient moslem emperors were men who did things. above all else they were builders, who constructed tombs, palaces and mosques that have survived for nearly four hundred years. they builded for all time, rearing massive walls of masonry that the most powerful british guns during the mutiny were unable to batter down. they built their own tombs in such enduring fashion that we may look upon them to-day as they were when these despots completed them. akbar, shah jehan, humayan and aurungzeb each erected scores of buildings that have survived the ravages of time and the more destructive work of greedy mercenaries in time of war. in and around delhi are scores of these tombs in various stages of decay. those which have been cared for are splendid specimens of the best architecture of the sixteenth century. indian brick is the cheapest building material in the world. the indian brick of to-day looks very much like the cheapest brick used in american cities to fill in the inside of walls; but the brick made in the time of shah jehan and humayan and used by them was a flat tile brick, hard as stone, set in mortar that has resisted the elements for over three hundred years. when the roofs of these moslem tombs and palaces fell in, then the work of disintegration followed rapidly. the plaster scaled off the front and sides, and the rows on rows of brick were exposed; but it is astonishing that these massive walls have not crumbled to dust in all these years. in most cases the imposing arched doorways of red sandstone have survived. these doorways, beautifully arched, may be seen on both sides of the road leading out of delhi to the old city, eleven miles distant, which was the capital of the mogul emperors until aurungzeb moved it to delhi. in a radius of fifteen miles from delhi tombs and palaces that cost hundreds of millions of rupees were built by these moslem despots and their viceroys. most of them are now in ruins, but from the top of the kutab minar one may count a score of tombs with their domes and cupolas still intact. into these tombs was poured much of the treasure wrung from the poverty-stricken hindoo tillers of the soil. few sights in this world are more impressive than this birdseye view of the remains of the mogul emperors who ruled northern india for over three centuries. in one of the poorest and the most densely populated countries of the world these despots reared marvels of architecture which have amazed modern experts. they accomplished these wonders in stone mainly because, with power of life and death, they were able to impress thousands of coolies and force them to rear the walls of their palaces and tombs. building materials were very cheap, so that most of the treasure expended by these rulers went into the elaborate ornamentation of walls and ceilings with precious stones and carved ivory and marble. no description that i have ever read gives any adequate idea of the number and the massiveness of these remains of bygone imperial splendor, and this magnificence is made more impressive by contrast with the squalid poverty of the common people--the tillers of the soil, the drawers of water, who live in wretched huts, with earthen floors, no windows and no comforts. these dwellings are crowded together in small villages; the family cow or goat occupies a part of the dwelling, a small fire gives warmth only to one standing directly over it, and the smoke pours out the open door or filters through holes in the thatched roof. as the native lived three hundred years ago so does he live to-day. he uses kerosene instead of the old nut or fish oil, but that is almost the only change. in the cultivation of the soil and in all kinds of manufacture the same methods are in use now as when akbar wrested north india from its hindoo rulers. the same crude bullock carts carry produce to delhi, with wheels that have felloes a foot thick and only four spokes. many of these wheels have no tires. in some cases camels supply the place of bullocks as beasts of burden, especially in the dry country north of delhi. the coolie draws water from the wells for irrigation just as his ancestors did three centuries ago. he uses bullocks on an arastra that turns over a big wheel with a chain of buckets. on small farms this work is done by men. all the processes of irrigation are ancient and cumbersome and would not be tolerated for a day in any land where labor is valuable. delhi is very rich in memorials of the mogul conquerors. near the lahore gate is the palace, one of the noblest remains of the mohammedan period. a vaulted arcade leads to the outer court, at one end of which is a splendid band gallery, with a dado of red sandstone, finely carved. on the farther side is the dwan-i-'am or hall of public audience, with noble arches and columns, at the back of which, in a raised recess, the emperor sat on his peacock throne, formed of two peacocks, with bodies and wings of solid gold inlaid with rubies, diamonds and emeralds. over it was a canopy of gold supported by twelve pillars, all richly ornamented. this magnificent work was taken away by nadir pasha. the palace contains many other beautiful rooms, among which may be mentioned the royal apartments, with a marble channel in the floor, through which rosewater flowed to the queen's dressing-room and bath. the most notable mosque in delhi is the jama mashid, built of red sandstone and white marble. it has a noble entrance and a great quadrangle, three hundred and twenty-five feet square, with a fountain in the center. in a pavilion in one corner are relics of mohammed, shown with great apparent reverence to the skeptical tourist. near by is the kalar masjid or black mosque, built in the style of the early arabian architecture. eleven miles from delhi are many tombs of the mogul emperors, including the kutab minar or great column of red sandstone, with a fine mosque near at hand. kutab was a viceroy when he began this splendid column, two hundred and thirty-eight feet high, with a base diameter of forty-seven feet three inches. the first three stories are of red sandstone and the two upper stories are faced with white marble. the summit, which is reached by three hundred and seventy-nine steps, gives a superb view of the surrounding country, with its many fine moslem tombs. on the way to the kutab minar a number of fine mohammedan tombs are passed, chief of which is the tomb of emperor humayan, one of the greatest of the moslem builders. of all the buildings that i saw in india this approaches most closely in beauty the incomparable taj mahal. of red sandstone, with white marble in relief, its windows are recessed and the lower doors filled in with stone and marble lattice work of great beauty. the tomb is an octagon and in the central chamber is the great emperor's cenotaph of plain white marble. not far away are the shrines and tombs of many mohammedan emperors and saints. delhi saw some of the fiercest fighting during the mutiny. the rebellious natives drove the europeans out of the city, slaughtering those who were unable to escape. thousands of mutineers also flocked to delhi from lucknow, cawnpore and other places. general bernard, in command of the english troops that came from simla, attacked the mutineers on june sixth and gained an important victory, as it gave the british possession of "the ridge," a lofty outcropping of ancient rock, which was admirably designed for defense and for operations against the city. troops were posted all along the ridge and in hindoo rao's house, a massive building belonging to a loyal native. this building was the center of many fierce engagements, but it was not until september that enough troops were collected to make it safe to assault delhi. brigadier-general john nicholson had arrived from the punjab and urged immediate attack on the city. nicholson was the greatest man the mutiny produced. tall, magnetic, dominating, he enforced his will upon every one. even lord roberts, who was then a young subaltern and not easily impressed by rank or achievement, records that he never spoke to nicholson without feeling the man's enormous will power and energy. finally, on september thirteenth, the british guns having made breaches in the city walls, two forces (one under nicholson, the other under colonel herbert) stormed the place. the kabul gate was soon taken, but the defense of the lahore gate proved more stubborn. the soldiers wavered under the deadly fire, when nicholson rushed forward to lead them. his great height made him a target and he fell, shot through the body. a whole week of severe fighting followed before every portion of delhi was captured. nicholson died three days after the british secured complete control of the city. his death was mourned as greatly as the death of sir henry lawrence at lucknow. the kashmir, kabul and lahore gates at delhi are interesting because they were the scenes of many acts of heroism during the mutiny. on the ridge a massive but ugly stone memorial has been erected to those who fell in the mutiny. the position is fine but the monument, like all the other memorials of the mutiny, is not impressive because of its poor design. other interesting objects which recall incidents in this great struggle against the sepoys are suitably inscribed. scenes in bombay when the king arrived the ancient city of bombay, the gateway of india and the largest commercial metropolis of the empire, was in festival garb because of the visit of the king and queen of england. fully four hundred thousand people came in from the surrounding country to see their rulers from over the sea and to enjoy the novel spectacle of illuminated buildings, decorative arches, military processions and fireworks. hence bombay was seen at its best in its strange mixture of races and costumes. in this respect it is more oriental and more picturesque than singapore. the first thing that impresses a stranger is the number, size and beauty of the public buildings. the town hall looks not unlike many american city structures--as it is classic, with doric pillars and an imposing flight of steps; but nearly all the other buildings are of indian architecture, with cupolas and domes, recessed windows and massive, pointed gateways. they are built of a dark stone, and the walls (three and four feet in thickness) seem destined to last forever. the rooms are from sixteen to twenty feet in height; above the tall doors and windows are transoms; the floors are of mosaic or stone; everything about the buildings appears designed to endure. the streets are very wide and the sidewalks are arranged under colonnades in front of the buildings, so that one may walk an entire block without coming out into the fierce indian sunshine. all the main streets converge into the apollo bunder, a splendid driveway like the maidan in calcutta. it sweeps around the sea wall and if any breeze is stirring in bombay one may get it here at nightfall. from six o'clock to eight thirty or nine o'clock all bombay turns out for a drive on the apollo bunder. the line of fine carriages and motor cars is continuous for miles, going out the esplanade to queen's road, which runs for five miles to malabar head, the favorite residence place of the wealthy foreign colony. what will astonish any one accustomed to calcutta and other east indian cities is the large representation of parsee families in this evening dress parade. two-thirds of the finest equipages belong to the parsees, who are very richly dressed in silks and adorned with fortunes in diamonds, rubies and other precious stones. here and there may be distinguished rich hindoos or mohammedans out for an airing. the women of the latter sect are concealed behind the carriage covers, but the hindoo and parsee women show their faces, their jewelry and their beautiful costumes with evident pleasure. nearly all these women wear fortunes in diamonds in their ears or in bracelets on their arms. in no dress parade in any other city have i noted so many large diamonds, rubies and emeralds as in this procession of carriages in bombay. [illustration: one of the main avenues of bombay. this broad street leads to the city market. the view shows the florid architecture of public buildings and the variety of native costumes] another thing that impresses the stranger in bombay is the sympathy and the good feeling that seems to exist between the leading europeans of the city and the prominent natives. this is in great contrast to the exclusiveness that marks the briton in other east indian cities. here the president and a majority of the members of the municipal council are parsees; while a number of hindoos and mohammedans are represented. when the king and queen of england were received, the address of welcome was read by the parsee president of the council, while a bouquet was presented to the queen by the president's wife, dressed in her graceful sari or robe of ecru silk, edged with a black border, heavy with ornamental gold work. this mingling of the races in civic life is due to the domination of the parsee element, which came over to bombay from persia three hundred years ago, when driven from their old homes by moslem intolerance. here these people, who strongly resemble the jews in their fondness for trade and their skill in finance, have amassed imperial fortunes. the richest of these parsee bankers and merchants, sir jamsetjee jeejeebhoy, left much of his great fortune to charity. he founded a university, schools and hospitals and his name figures on a dozen fine buildings. other prominent parsee families are the sassoons and jehangirs. yet, despite their wealth and their association with europeans, the parsees have kept themselves unspotted from the world. they do not recognize any mingling of their blood with the foreigner. a parsee who marries a european woman must accept virtual expatriation, while the wife (although she may bear him children) is never allowed any of the privileges of a native woman in this life and when she dies her body cannot be consigned to the parsee burial place. she is always an alien and nothing that she can do is able to break down this racial wall that separates her from her husband's people. the marriage of parsee women to foreigners is practically unknown. the parsee wears a distinctive costume. the men dress in white linen or pongee trousers, with coat of dark woolen or alpaca; they like foreign shirts and collars, but their headgear is the same as that used by the refugees from persia over three hundred years ago. one cap is of lacquered papier-mache in the form of a cow's hoof inverted. another is a round cap of gray cloth, finely made, worn over a skull cap of velvet or embroidered cloth, which is worn indoors. the women wear the sari or robe, which consists of one piece of silk or brocade, with an embroidered band. this garment is draped around the body and brought up over the head, covering the right ear. they all wear shoes and stockings. the parsees are all well educated and most of them possess unusual refinement. so strong is the pride of race among them that they do not tolerate any mendicancy among their own people. their charitable associations care for the few parsees who are unable to make a living, so that their paupers never make any claim upon the municipal government for aid. they also boast that none of their women may be found among the denizens of the red-light district. most of the educated parsees speak english, french and german, besides gugerati (the native dialect) and most of them read and write english, gugerati and urdu, which is the written form of hindustani. yet the parsees are genuine orientals. they sit on chairs, but most of their houses are scantily furnished. they are remarkably fond of sweets, fruits and nuts. they seem insensible to the surroundings of their homes, many living in crowded streets and up many flights of stairs. in their homes all their treasures are kept in the family safe. if you are fortunate enough to be received in one of these parsee homes you will be amazed at the wealth in jewelry and personal ornaments which are possessed even by families of modest fortune. a parsee woman of this class will have invested five thousand dollars in jewelry, much of which she will wear on festive occasions. many of the big shipping and cotton merchants of bombay are parsees and they also control much of the banking of the city. it was due largely to the liberality of the parsees that the city of bombay was able to present to the king a memorial in gold and silver that cost seventeen thousand rupees, or over five thousand five hundred dollars in american money. this reception to the king and queen when they landed at bombay on their way to delhi durbar was very typical of the life of the city. remarkable preparations had been made; a series of arches spanned the principal streets, all designed in native style. at the end of the apollo bunder was erected a pretty, white pavilion that looked like a miniature taj, while a splendid avenue, lined with pillars, led up to the great amphitheater, in front of which, under an ornate pavilion, were the golden thrones of the king and queen. this amphitheater was reserved for all the european and native notables, as well as the maharajahs and chiefs from the neighboring states. after the reception to the royal party came a parade through the principal streets and when this was concluded all restrictions were relaxed and the populace and the visitors from surrounding towns gave themselves up to an evening of enjoyment. the buildings were illuminated, some with white and others with red electric lights, while many large structures were lighted by little oil lamps, in a cup or glass. the main streets were filled with long lines of carriages, crowded with richly dressed natives and europeans, although the natives outnumbered the foreigners by one hundred to one. never in my life have i seen so many valuable jewels as on this night, when i roamed about the streets for two hours, enjoying this oriental holiday. at times i would stop and sit on one of the stands and watch the crowd flow by in a steady stream. walking by the side of a parsee millionaire and his richly dressed family would pass a hindoo woman of low caste, one of the street sweepers, in dirty rags, but loaded down on ankles and arms by heavy silver bangles and painted in the center of the forehead with her caste mark. she was followed by a poverty-stricken mohammedan leading a little boy, stark naked, while a girl with brilliant cap held the boy's hand. a naked tamil, with only a dirty loin cloth, brushed elbows with three parsee girls, beautifully dressed. and so this purely democratic human tide flowed on for hours, rich and poor showing a childlike pleasure in the street decorations and the variegated crowd. and in the midst of all this turmoil native parties from out of town squatted on the deserted tiers of seats, ate their suppers with relish and then calmly composed themselves to sleep, wrapped in their robes, as though they were in the privacy of their own homes. it was a spectacle such as could be seen only in an oriental city with a people who live in public with the placid unconsciousness of animals. religion and customs of the bombay parsees the parsees of bombay--a mere handful of exiles among millions of aliens--have so exerted their power as to change the life of a great city. proscribed and persecuted, they have developed so powerfully their aptitude for commercial life that they represent the wealth of bombay. living up to the tenets of their creed, they have given far more liberally to charity and education than any other race. some idea of the respect in which the parsee is held may be gained from the fact that customs officers never search the baggage of one of these people; they take the parsee's word that he has no dutiable goods. the commercial success and the high level of private life among the parsees is due directly to their religion, which was founded by zoroaster in ancient persia three thousand years ago. as max-muller has well said, if darius had overthrown alexander of greece, the modern world would probably have inherited the faith of zoroaster, which does not differ in most of its essentials from the creed of christ. the popular idea of a parsee is that he worships the sun. this is a misconception, due probably to the fact that the parsee when saying his prayers always faces the sun or, in default of this, prays before a sacred fire in his temples; but he does not worship the sun, nor any gods or idols. his temples are bare, only the sacred fire of sandalwood burning in one corner. the parsee recognizes an overruling god, ahura-mazda, the creator of the universe; he believes that nature with its remarkable laws could not have come into being without a great first cause. but he believes that the universe created by ahura-mazda was invaded by a spirit of evil, angra-mainyush, which invites men to wicked deeds, falsehood and ignorance. over against this evil spirit is the good spirit, spenta-mainyush, which represents god and stands for truth, goodness and knowledge. the incarnation of the evil spirit is known as aherman, who corresponds to the christian devil. the whole parsee creed is summed up in three words, which correspond to good thoughts, good words and good deeds. if one carries out in his life this creed, then his good thoughts, good words and good deeds will be his intercessors on the great bridge that leads the spirit from death to the gates of paradise. if his evil deeds and thoughts and words overbalance the good, then he goes straight down to the place of darkness and torment. if his good and evil deeds and thoughts exactly balance, then he passes into a kind of purgatory. fire, water and earth are all sacred to the parsee; but fire represents the principle of creation and hence is most sacred. to him fire is the most perfect symbol of deity because of its purity, brightness and incorruptibility. the sacred fire that burns constantly in the parsee temples is fed with chips of sandalwood. prayer with the parsee is obligatory, but it need not be said in the fire temple; the parsee may pray to the sun or moon, the mountains or the sea. his prayer is first repentance for any evil thoughts or deeds and then for strength to lead a life of righteousness, charity and good deeds. the most remarkable result of the parsee religion is seen in the education of children. this is made a religious duty, and neglect of it entails terrible penalties--for the parents are responsible for the offenses of the badly-educated child, just as they share in the merit for good deeds performed by their children. it is the duty of a good parsee not only to educate his own children but to do all in his power to help in general education. hence the large benefactions that rich parsees have made to found institutions for the education of the poor. disobedience of children is one of the worst sins. the parsees are also taught to observe sanitary laws, to bathe frequently, to take all measures to prevent the spread of contagion. cleanliness is one of the chief virtues. to keep the earth pure the parsee is enjoined to cultivate it. he is also admonished to drink sparingly of wine and not to sell it to any one who uses liquor to excess. the parsee creed urges the believer to help the community in which he lives and to give freely to charity. sir jamsetjee jeejeebhoy, the richest parsee bombay has known, set aside a fund of four million seven hundred and forty-three thousand rupees for charity and benevolence among all the people of his city, regardless of race or creed. the parsee gives liberally to charity on the occasion of weddings or of deaths. the charity includes relieving the poor, helping a man to marry and aiding poor children to secure an education. the influence of the parsee religion upon the literature and life of the people is very marked. there is no room for atheism, agnosticism or materialism. faith in the existence of god and in the immortality of the soul is the corner-stone of the creed, but the parsee spends no money and no effort in proselyting others. marriage is encouraged by the parsee religion, because it encourages a virtuous and religious life. the marriage ceremony is peculiar. it is always performed in a large pavilion, whatever the wealth of the couple. in the case of the rich many invitations are issued and a fine wedding feast is spread. on the day set for the wedding, the bride and groom and the invited guests assemble in the pavilion. the bride as well as the groom is dressed in white. when the time comes for the ceremony the couple sit in chairs facing each other and a sheet is held up between them by friends, so that they cannot see each other. then two priests begin intoning the marriage service. after several prayers a cord is wound around the two chairs seven times and the chairs are also bound together with a strip of cloth. more prayers and exhortations follow, both priests showering rice upon the couple. finally the sheet is withdrawn, they and their chairs are placed side by side, each is given a cocoanut to hold that is bound to the other by a string, emblematic of the plenty that may bless the new home, and they are declared man and wife. then they sign a document certifying that they have been united according to the parsee ritual and witnesses sign their names. far stranger than the wedding customs of the parsees are their burial rites. they believe that neither fire, earth nor water must be polluted by contact with a dead body, so neither burial nor cremation is permitted. instead, they expose their dead to vultures which strip the flesh from the bones within an hour. this occurs in conical places, called towers of silence, which are shut off from human gaze. the bombay towers of silence are on malabar head, a beautiful residence district overlooking the city. here, in a fine garden planted to many varieties of trees and shrubs, are five circular towers, each about twenty feet high, made of brick, covered with plaster. while you are admiring the flowers and trees a funeral enters the gates. the body is carried by four professional bearers and is followed by two priests and the relatives and friends. all the mourners are clothed in white. they walk two by two, no matter how distant may be the house of death, each couple holding a handkerchief as a symbol of their union in sorrow. when the procession reaches the top of the hill the mourners diverge and take seats in the house of prayer, where the sacred fire is burning, or they seat themselves in the beautiful garden for meditation and prayer. the priests deliver the body to the two corpse bearers, who throw open the great iron door and enter with the body. the floor of the tower is of iron grating, arranged in three circles--the outer for men, the next for women and the inner for children. as the bearers lay the body down, they strip off the shroud. then the iron door closes with a clang. this is the signal for a score of vultures to swoop down upon the body. no human eye can see this spectacle, but the imagination of the visitor pictures it in all its horror. within a few minutes the gorged vultures begin flapping their way to the top of the tower, where they roost on the outer rim. the bones of the corpse are allowed to remain for several days exposed to the fierce sun. then they are thrown into a great central well, where the climate soon converts them into dust. this is washed by the rains into underground wells. charcoal in these wells serves to filter the rain water before it enters the ground. thus do the parsees preserve even the earth from contamination by the ashes of the dead. no expense is spared by the parsees in the construction of these towers of silence, which are always placed on the tops of hills. according to the testimony of some of the ablest medical men of england and america, who have examined these burial grounds, the parsee method of disposing of the dead is the most sanitary that has ever been devised. it avoids even the fumes that are given off in cremation of the dead. it is also cheap and absolutely democratic, as the bones of the rich and poor mingle at last in the well of the tower of silence. there is nothing offensive to european taste in the towers of silence except the vultures. these disgusting birds, like the indian crow, are protected because they are admirable scavengers. the parsees see nothing offensive in exposing their dead to these birds nor apparently does it shock them that alien hands should bare the bodies of their beloved dead; but to a foreigner both these aspects of parsee burial are repellant and no argument has any weight to counteract this sentiment. many sensational accounts of these parsee burial rites have been printed. nearly every writer lays stress on the fact that pieces of the dead bodies are dropped by the vultures within the grounds or in the streets outside. this is an absurdity, as the vulture never rises on the wing with any carrion--he eats it on the spot and he will not leave until he is gorged to repletion. an effort was made several years ago to remove these towers of silence on malabar hill because of complaints that fragments of corpses were found in the neighborhood. when two competent medical experts investigated the matter they reported that there was no foundation for the complaints. so the towers have remained and thousands of parsees have been borne to them for the last rites of their creed. [illustration: plate xli one of the main gates to government house, calcutta. this gate is of beautiful proportions and has a fine lion. government house is situated in a fine park of six acres] [illustration: plate xlii a street scene in calcutta. the new building at the right has a staging of bamboo. on the left is the burka bazaar, one of the sights of india, each dealer having a small shop of his own. the goods are classified as in an american department store] [illustration: plate xliii the great burning ghat at benares. here are four funeral pyres arranged for burning, the heads of the corpses may be detected among the wood. the pyre in the middle foreground is partly burned. relatives watch the cremation from the temple above] [illustration: plate xliv view of the bathing ghats at benares. here may be seen natives bathing in mother ganges, while above are the line of splendid palaces and temples built by the maharaja princes] [illustration: plate xlv a holy man of benares under his umbrella. each of the fakers at benares has his own clientage, but no one bathes without yielding tribute to some holy man] [illustration: plate xlvi the residency at lucknow. this, the most impressive relic of the british mutiny in india, is now only a beautiful ruin, but it recalls the heroic defense made by a handful of english against hundreds of natives. in front is a memorial erected by lord northbrook to loyal native soldiers] [illustration: plate xlvii tomb of itmad-ul-daulet at agra. this tomb was erected in honor of the prime minister of the emperor jahangir. it is of carved and inlaid marble and overlooks the jumna river] [illustration: plate xlviii the mutiny memorial at cawnpore. this memorial was erected over the well into which were thrown the bodies of one hundred and twenty-five english women and children, butchered by order of the nana sahib] [illustration: plate xlix detail of carving in the jasmine tower, agra. this view gives a good idea of the wonderful work in marble carving and the inlaying of precious stones, which makes this little pavilion a rival of the taj] [illustration: plate l the jasmine tower in agra fort. this is a marble pavilion, the home of the chief sultana, overlooking the jumna river. the lattice work decoration in marble is remarkably beautiful] [illustration: plate li snap-shot of a jain family at agra. mr. upham's camera caught this woman as she peeked from behind the curtain of the ekka, or native cart] [illustration: plate lii the fort at agra which encloses many palaces. this fort has a circuit of over a mile, with two octagonal towers of red sandstone. enclosed are mosques and palaces which rival the taj in beauty of design and richness of ornamentation] [illustration: plate liii kutab minar, the arch and the iron pillar, near delhi. the arch formed part of a mosque built by kutab, a viceroy, in a. d. the pillar stood in the mosque and is of wrought iron, twenty-three feet high. the monument is two hundred and thirty-eight feet high with three hundred and seventy-nine steps] [illustration: plate liv shah jehan's heaven on earth, delhi. the diwan-i-khas, or hall of private audience, is one of the most richly decorated buildings in india. the ceiling was originally silver. over the two outer arches is the persian inscription: "if heaven can be on the face of the earth, it is this, oh! it is this, oh! it is this"] [illustration: plate lv street view in delhi, with the juma mashid. this shows the variety of life in delhi streets. the juma mashid is one of the finest of the mohammedan mosques] [illustration: plate lvi a parsee tower of silence at bombay. this shows one of the unique burial places at malabar head, where dead bodies are exposed. vultures strip the flesh from the bones in a few minutes] egypt, the home of hieroglyphs, tombs and mummies picturesque oriental life as seen in cairo the first impression of cairo is bewildering. none of the oriental cities east of port said is at all like it in appearance or in street life. the color, the life, the picturesqueness, the noises, all these are distinctive. kyoto, manila, hongkong, singapore, rangoon, calcutta, bombay and colombo--each has marked traits that differentiate it from all other cities, but several have marked likenesses. cairo differs from all these in having no traits in common with any of them. it stands alone as the most kaleidoscopic of cities, the most bizarre in its mingling of the orient and the occident. ismail pasha, who loved to ape the customs of the foreigner, made a deliberate attempt to convert cairo into a second paris, by cutting great avenues through the narrow, squalid streets of the old city, but ismail simply transformed a certain quarter of the place and spoiled its native character. what he could not do, fortunately, was to rob the egyptian of his picturesqueness or make the chief city of egypt other than a great collection of oriental bazars and outdoor coffee shops, as full of the spirit of the east as the camel or the bedouin of the desert. the ride from port said to cairo on the train, which consumes four hours, is interesting mainly as a revelation of what the nile means to these people, who without its life-giving water would be unable to grow enough to live on. with abundant irrigation this nile delta is one of the garden spots of the earth. the villages that we pass remind one somewhat of old indian villages on the fringe of the desert in california and arizona--the same walls of sun-baked adobe; the roofs of any refuse from tree pruning; the goats and chickens on terms of intimacy with the single living-room. but the people are not of the western world. dressed in voluminous black or blue cotton robes, which are pulled up over their heads to protect them from the keen wind of winter, they belong to the land as absolutely as the tawny, dust-colored camel. the dress of the women appears to differ very little from that of the men, but always the women gather a loose fold of their dress and bring it over the head, thus partially concealing the face. men, women and children, all in bare feet, squat in the sand or sit hunched up against the sunny side of their houses. beyond any other orientals i have seen, these egyptians have the capacity for unlimited loafing under circumstances that would drive an american insane in a few hours. flies swarm over them; passing donkeys or camels powder them with dust; the fierce sun beats down on their heads; but all these things they accept philosophically as an inevitable part of life, as something decreed by fate which it would be useless and senseless to change. the first walk down the street of the camel in cairo is one not soon forgotten. before you are clear of the hotel steps an arab in a sweater and loose skirt, something like the malay sarong, rushes up and shouts: "the latest new york herald; just came this morning!" although you tell him "no" and shake your head, he follows you for half a block. meanwhile you are badgered by dealers in scarabs, beads, stamps, postal cards, silver shawls and various curios, who dog your heels, and, when you finally lose your temper, retaliate by shouting: "yankee!" through their noses. these street peddlers are wonderfully keen judges of nationality and they manage to make life a burden to the american tourist by their unwearied and smiling persistence. this is due in great part to the foolish liberality of american travelers, who are inclined to accept the first price offered, although with an egyptian or an arab this is usually twice or three times what he finally agrees to take. custom and habit probably blunt one's sensibilities in time, but this constant annoyance by peddlers detracts much from the pleasure of any stroll through cairo streets. to the new arrival everything is novel and attractive. the main avenues are wide, well paved and lined with spacious sidewalks, but here the european touch ends. after passing some fine shops, their windows filled with costly goods from all parts of egypt and the soudan, one comes upon one of the great cafes that form a distinctive feature of cairo street life. here the sidewalk is half filled with small tables, about which are grouped egyptians and foreigners drinking the sweet turkish coffee that is served here at all hours of the day. many of these egyptians are in european dress, their swarthy faces and the red fez alone showing their nationality. the young men are remarkably handsome, with fine, regular features, large, brilliant black eyes and straight, heavy eyebrows that frequently meet over the nose. their faces beam with good nature and they evidently regard the frequent enjoyment of coffee and cigarettes as among the real pleasures of life. but the older men all show traces of this life of ease and self-indulgence. it is seldom that one sees a man beyond fifty with a strong face. the egyptian over forty loses his fine figure, he lays on abundant flesh, his jowl is heavy and his whole face suggests satiety and the loss of that pleasure in mere existence that makes the youth so attractive. walking down this main artery of cairo life one sees on the left a large park surrounded by a high iron fence. this is the esbekiyeh gardens, which cover twenty acres, and are planted to many choice trees and shrubs. they contain cafes, a restaurant and a theater, and on several evenings in the week military and egyptian bands alternate in playing foreign music. beyond the gardens is an imposing opera house, with a small square in front, ornamented with an impressive equestrian statue of old ibrahim pasha, one of the few good fighters that egypt has produced. from the opera house radiate many streets, some leading to the new europeanized quarters, with noble residences and great apartment houses; others taking one directly to the bazars and narrow streets that give a good idea of cairo as it existed before the foreigner came to change its life. although the modern tram car clangs its way through these native streets, it is about the only foreign touch that can be seen. everything else is distinctively oriental. it is difficult to give any adequate idea of the narrowness of these streets or of the amount of life that is crowded into them. as in many cities of india, all the work of the shops goes on in plain view from the street. the shops themselves are mere cubicles, from eight to ten feet wide and seldom more than from six to eight feet deep. in certain streets the makers of shoes and slippers are massed in solid rows; then come the workers in brass and metals; then the jewelers, and following these may be dealers in shawls and in curios of various kinds. the native shopkeeper sits cross-legged amid his stock and, although he shows great keenness in getting you to examine his wares, he never reveals any haste in closing a bargain. shopping in this native quarter and in the great muski bazar that adjoins it is a constant source of amusement to the foreign woman who has a fondness for bargaining. these arabs and egyptians never expect one to give more than half what is demanded, except in the case of a few large shops in which the price is marked. if one of the silver shawls made at assiut attracts a lady's attention and the polite shopkeeper demands five pounds sterling, she may safely offer him two pounds, and then, after haggling for a half hour, she will probably become the possessor of the shawl for two pounds ten shillings. of one thing the traveler may be sure: he will never get any article from an egyptian on which the shopkeeper cannot make a small profit. the muski bazar is about a mile long and, although many european shops line it, the street still retains its oriental attractiveness. branching off from it are many narrow streets crowded with shops on both sides. here may be seen the real life of old cairo, unhampered by any foreign innovations. the street is not more than twelve feet wide and above the first floor of the houses projecting latticed windows and open balconies reduce this width to three or four feet. looking up one sees only a narrow slit of blue sky, against which are outlined several tiers of latticed windows. from these the harem women look down upon the street life in which they can have no real part. peeping over the balconies may be seen black eyes that gleam above the yashmak or oriental veil worn by the poorer classes. this veil covers the face almost to the eyes and it is held in place by a curious bit of bamboo that comes down over the forehead to the nose. the women of the better class do not wear this ugly yashmak, but content themselves with a white silk veil that is stretched across the lower part of the face, leaving the eyes and a part of the nose uncovered. no visit to cairo is complete without a sight of old cairo, with its bazars. this is a quarter of the city that remains as it was in the days of the caliphs. it is inhabited mainly by copts and among the mean houses, built of sun-dried bricks, may be traced part of the old roman wall that encircled this suburb, then known as babylon. the houses are mainly of two or three stories, but the streets are so narrow that two people on opposite sides may easily join hands by leaning out of their windows. many or the antique doors of oak, studded with great wrought-iron nails, still remain. here is the old church of st. sergius, which is said to antedate the moslem conquest. in the ancient crypt the virgin mary and the child are said to have sought shelter after their flight into egypt. near by is the island of roda, which is noteworthy for the legend that here the infant moses was found by pharaoh's daughter. the visitor crosses a narrow arm of the nile by a crude ferry and then walks through a quaint old garden to a wall that overlooks the nile and the pyramids. this wall marks the spot, according to local tradition, where moses was taken from the bulrushes. the bulrushes are no more because they have been dredged out, but the place has the look of extreme age and the garden contains many curious trees. among the ruins of luxor and karnak luxor, the ancient city of upper egypt, which may be reached by a night train ride from cairo, is the center of the most interesting ruins on the nile. the city itself has been built around the splendid temple of luxor, founded by amenophis iii, but altered and extensively rebuilt by rameses ii. from the nile the colonnade of this temple is a beautiful spectacle, as the huge columns are in perfect preservation. big tourist hotels make up most of the other buildings. the town boasts a good water front, which is generally lined in the winter season with tourist steamers. the view across the nile is fine, as it includes the lofty libyan range of mountains, in whose flanks were cut the tombs of the pharaohs. here, in two or three days, one may study the ruins of luxor, karnak and thebes--names that the historian still conjures with. all the egyptian temples were built on one general plan, like the mosques of north india, and luxor does not differ from the others, except that it surpasses them all in the beauty of its colonnaded pillars. seven double columns, about fifty-two feet high, with lotus capitals, support a massive architrave, while beyond them are double columns on three sides of a great court. this temple of luxor was originally built by amenophis iii of the eighteenth dynasty in honor of ammon, the greatest of egyptian gods, his wife and their son, the moon-god khons. the successor of this monarch erased the name of ammon and made other changes, but seti i restored ammon's name, and then came rameses ii, the builder who never wearied in rearing huge temples and in carving colossal figures of himself. rameses added a colonnaded court in front of the temple, built an enormous pylon, with obelisks and colossal statues that celebrate his own greatness, and erased the cartouches of the original builder, substituting his own and thus claiming credit for the erection of the whole temple. were the spirit of the great rameses allowed to return to earth and reanimate the mummy that now forms the most interesting exhibit in the cairo museum, how great would be his humiliation to know that his ingenious devices to appropriate the credit of other men's work have been exposed? in nearly all the remains of upper egypt, rameses figures as the sole builder, but the cunning of modern archaeologists has stripped him of this credit and has revealed him as the greatest of royal charlatans. the general plan of the luxor temple is repeated at karnak and all other places in egypt. the pylon, two towers of massive masonry, formed the entrance to the temple, the door being in the middle. the towers of the pylon resemble truncated pyramids and, as they were formed of large stones, they frequently survived when all other parts of the temple fell into ruins. the surfaces of the pylon afforded space for reliefs and inscriptions, telling of the glories of the king who reared the temple. in most cases obelisks and colossal statues of the royal builder were placed in front of the pylon. from the pylon one enters the great open court, with covered colonnades at right and left. this court was the gathering place of the people on all big festivals, and in the center stood the great altar. back of this court, on a terrace a few feet higher, was the vestibule of the temple upheld by columns, the front row of which was balustraded. behind this was the great hypostyle hall, extending the whole width of the building, with five aisles, the two outer ones being lower than the others. the roof of the central aisle is upheld by papyrus columns with calyx capitals, while that of the other aisles is supported by papyrus columns with bud capitals. behind this hall is the inner sanctuary, containing the image of the god in a sacred boat. around the sanctuary were grouped various chambers for the storage of the priests' vestments and for the use of watchmen and other attendants. in the luxor temple the surface of the pylon is devoted to a record of the achievements in war of rameses ii, the monarch who finally revised the temple and put his seal on it. behind the pylon is the great court of rameses, entirely surrounded by two rows of seventy-four columns, with papyrus bud capitals and smooth shafts. then comes a colonnade of seven double columns, fifty-two feet high, with calyx capitals; a second court, that of amenophis iii, with double rows of columns on three sides; the vestibule of the temple, two chapels, the birth-room of amenophis and several other chambers. [illustration: the great hypostyle hall at karnak. this hall is in the temple of ammon, and is one of the most impressive in all egypt. originally there were one hundred and thirty-four columns, arranged in sixteen rows] each monarch who reared a temple to his chosen deity devoted much space to statues of himself, with grandiloquent accounts in hieroglyphs of his exploits in war and peace and of the many peoples who paid him tribute. rameses appears to have had most of the evil traits of the arbitrary despot. with unlimited men and material he was engaged during the greater part of his long reign in erecting colossal structures which were designed to perpetuate in enduring stone the record of his achievements. but time has dealt rameses some staggering blows. his tomb at thebes, which was planned to preserve his mummy throughout the ages, fell in and is the only one of the tombs of the kings that cannot be shown. the mummy of this ablest and proudest of the pharaohs is now on exhibition at the cairo museum with a score of others and excites the ribald comment of the cook's tourist, who drops his "h's" and knows nothing of egyptology. yet the mummy of rameses is by far the most interesting of those shown at the museum because the head and face are so essentially modern. the other rulers of egypt were plainly orientals, but this man, with the high-bridged, sensitive nose, the long upper lip, the strong chin and the powerful forehead, might have stepped out of the political life of any of the great european nations during the last century. the impressiveness of the temple of luxor depends mainly upon the rows of columns, nearly sixty feet in height, which give one a vivid idea of the majesty of egyptian architecture in its best estate. these columns show few traces of the destroying hand of time, although they were carved from soft limestone. probably the escape of this temple from the ruin that befell karnak and thebes was due mainly to its sheltered position and also to the fact that a coptic church and the houses of peasants were built among the columns. the refuse that aided to preserve these remains of ancient egyptian architecture was fully twenty feet deep when the work of excavation was begun. hence luxor satisfies the eye in the perfect arrangement of the columns and in the massiveness of the work. here also on the pylon and the walls of the court may be seen some beautiful reliefs and inscriptions which depict scenes in the campaigns of rameses ii against the hittites, sacrificial processions and hymns to the gods. from ancient luxor to karnak, a distance of a mile and one-half, the way was marked in the time of the pharaohs by a double row of small sphinxes, many of which still remain in a half-ruined condition. this avenue leads to the small temple of khons, the moon-god, made noteworthy by a beautiful pylon. this pylon is one hundred and four feet long, thirty-three feet wide and sixty feet high and is covered with inscriptions and reliefs. this small temple serves as an introduction to the great temple of ammon, the chief glory of karnak, to which most of the pharaohs contributed. this temple is difficult to describe, as it covers several acres and is a mass of gigantic masonry, full of majesty even in its ruin. what it was in the days of its builders, with its vast courts lined with beautiful designs in brilliant colors, the imagination fails to conceive. its greatest features are the main pylon (three hundred and seventy feet wide and one hundred and forty-two and one-half feet high), the great hypostyle hall of seti i and rameses ii, the festival temple of thotmes iii and the obelisk of queen hatasu. from the pylon a superb view may be gained of the ruins of karnak. the hypostyle hall is justly ranked among the wonders of the world, as it is no less than three hundred and thirty-eight feet in breadth by one hundred and seventy feet in depth and it is estimated that the great church of notre dame in paris could be set down in this hall. sixteen rows of columns--one hundred and thirty-four in all--support the roof. looking down the two central rows of columns toward the sanctuary, one gets some idea of the effect of this colossal architecture when the pillars were all perfect and the fierce sunshine of ancient egypt brought out their barbaric wealth of gold and brilliant colors. the walls of this immense hall are covered with pictures in relief depicting the victories of seti and rameses over the libyans and the people of palestine. these designs represent the two monarchs as performing prodigies of valor on the field of battle and then bringing the trophies of war as an offering to the gods. the festal hall of thotmes iii is made noteworthy by twenty unique columns arranged in two rows. the temple of karnak was made beautiful by two fine obelisks of pink granite from assuan, erected by queen hatasu. one is in fragments, but the other rises one hundred and one-half feet from amid a ruined colonnade. it is the loftiest obelisk known with the single exception of that in front of the lateran in rome, which is taller by only three and one-half feet. the inscription records that it was made in seven months. the impression left by the ruins of karnak is bewildering. the modern mind has great difficulty in conceiving how any monarch, no matter how great his resources, could spend years in erecting these huge structures in honor of his gods. here are scores of colossal statues of rameses, seti and amenophis, each of which required six months to carve from a single slab of red or black granite. here are hundreds of columns of from forty to sixty feet high, covered from capital to base with richly carved hieroglyphs. here are splendid halls, larger than anything known in our day, which were picture galleries in stone, blazing with gold, red, purple and other colors. and here are obelisks that have preserved through all these centuries the story of their dedication. the mind is staggered by so great a mass of work, representing untold misery of thousands of wretched slaves brought from all parts of the then known world. these slaves were made to work under the terrible egyptian sun; if they were overcome by the heat and stopped for a moment's rest their bare backs felt the cruel lash of the overseer; if they fell under the heat and the burden they were dragged out and their bodies thrown to the vultures and the jackals. so, while we stand in amazement before these relics of the enormous activity of a people who have passed away, we cannot fail to note that these huge stones were cemented with the blood and tears of the bond slave, and that if they could find a voice they would tell of unthinkable atrocities which they witnessed in those old days, before brotherly love came into the world. tombs of the kings at ancient thebes the greeks and romans who went up the nile as far as the "hundred-gated" city of thebes declared that the tombs of the kings, cut in the limestone sides of the libyan range of mountains, were among the wonders of the world. the tourist of to-day will confirm this early impression, for in egypt nothing gives one a more vivid idea of the enormous pains taken by the pharaohs to preserve their dead from desecration than do these tombs. here for several miles in the flanks of these mountains--sterile, desolate beyond any region that i have ever seen--are scattered the rock-hewn tombs of the monarchs who carried the arms of egypt to all parts of the known world of their day. like their temples, the egyptians built their tombs after a uniform plan--the only variation was in the arrangement of the minor chambers and in the inscriptions which told of the history of the king whose mummy reposed in the vault. seven miles across the river the pharaohs chose the site of their tombs. imagination could not conceive a greater abomination of desolation than the rocky mountainside in which these tombs are carved; but fortunes were lavished on the construction of these resting places of the dead. historians and travelers have told of the great city which grew up about the tombs of the egyptian kings--the temples, the homes of priests and the huge settlements of thousands of workmen who spent years in the laborious carving and decoration of these burial places. but to-day nothing remains of these cities, and of the temples only a few columns, pillars and broken statues bear witness to their former grandeur. yet the tombs have resisted the destroying hand of the centuries, and the walls of several of them actually retain the brilliant colors laid on by the painters over four thousand years ago. when you go down the roughly-hewn steps into the mortuary chambers, carved out of the solid rock, it is borne in upon you that here time has stood still; that during all the ages that have seen the rise of christianity and the growth of empires greater than thebes ever dreamed of, the mummies of these pharaohs reposed here undisturbed. now by the aid of skilfully arranged electric lights you may descend into most of these tombs, marvel at the beauty of the decorative inscriptions on the walls, gaze upon the massive granite sarcophagi in which the mummies were placed, and get a genuine taste of the antiquity that you have read about but never fully realized before. this is the service of the tombs of the kings--the actual turning back of the centuries so that one feels the touch of the ancient days as vividly as he feels the hot, dust-laden, oppressive air of the mausoleum. the excursion from luxor to the tombs of the kings and the colossi of memnon, not far away, is a hard day's trip. the tourist crosses the nile in a small boat and takes a donkey or a carriage. the road leads along a large canal, passing the remains of the great temple of seti i at kurna, and thence winds around through two desert valleys into a gorge lined on both sides with naked, sun-baked rocks that give back the heat like the open doors of a furnace. bare of any scrap of verdure, desolate beyond expression, these rocky walls that shut in this gorge form a fitting introduction to the tombs of the kings. the road finally turns to the left and enters a small valley, encircled by huge rocks, cut by ravines. here one may see in the sides of the mountain wall the first of the rock-hewn tombs, which happens to be that of rameses iv. one enters the large gateway and passes down an ancient staircase cut in the solid rock, at an angle of forty-five degrees. three corridors and an ante-room, all carved out of rock, lead to the main chamber, which contains the mammoth granite sarcophagus of the king (ten feet long, eight feet high and seven feet wide), beautifully decorated with inscriptions. four other rooms follow, the walls of each being covered with inscriptions. recesses are found in the main hall for the storage of the furniture of the dead and in several of the other rooms. the theory of the egyptians in the arrangement of these tombs was that the dead king, guided by the great sun-god, voyaged through the underworld every night in a boat. hence he must have careful guidance in regard to his route. this was furnished by elaborate extracts from two sacred books of the egyptians. one was entitled _the book of him who is in the underworld_ and the other was the _book of the portals_. the walls of these tombs reveal extracts from the sacred books in great variety, but all designed to serve as a guide to the dead kings. the best tombs are those of amenophis ii, rameses iii, seti i and thotmes iii. they are all of similar design but the tomb of seti i (discovered by the italian savant, belzoni) is finer than any of the others. it includes fourteen rooms, most of which are richly adorned with inscriptions and designs from the sacred books. the sculptures on the walls are executed with great skill and the decorations of the ceilings show much artistic taste. in the tenth room are many curious decorations, the ceiling, which is finely vaulted, being covered with astronomical figures and lists of stars and constellations. from this room an incline leads to the mummy shaft. the mummy of seti i is in the cairo museum, while the fine alabaster sarcophagus is in the soane museum in london. the tomb of amenophis ii is noteworthy as the only one which contains the royal mummy. in a crypt with blue ceiling, spangled with yellow stars and with yellow walls to represent papyrus, is the great sandstone sarcophagus of the king. under a strong electric light is shown the mummy-shaped coffin with the body of the king, its arms crossed and the funeral garlands still resting in the case. the effectiveness of this mummy makes one regret that the others have been removed to the cairo museum, instead of being restored to their original places in these tombs. most of these royal mummies were removed to a shaft at deir-el-bahri to save them from desecration by the invading persians, but when the mummies were found it would have been wise to replace them in these tombs rather than to group them, as was done, in the cairo museum. one or two mummies in that museum would have been as effective as two dozen. not far from these tombs is the fine temple of queen hatasu at deir-el-bahri. this queen was the sister and wife of king thotmes iii, and for a part of his reign was co-regent. the temple, which was left unfinished, was completed by rameses ii. a short ride from this temple brings one to the ramessium, the large temple (which is badly preserved) erected by rameses ii and dedicated to the god ammon. the pylon is ruined, but one can still decipher some of the inscriptions that tell of rameses' campaign against the hittites. the first court is a mass of ruined masonry, but it contains fragments of a colossal statue of rameses, the largest ever found in egypt. it probably measured fifty-seven and one-third feet in height, as the various parts show that it was twenty-two and one-half feet from shoulder to shoulder. the colossal head of another statue of rameses was found near by. the great hall had many fine columns, of which eighteen are still standing. these columns are very impressive and give one some idea of the majesty of the temple when it was complete. not far away are the tombs of the queens, including the fine mausoleum of the consort of rameses ii, part of whose name was mi-an-mut. a half mile from the ramessium brings one to the colossi of memnon, the two huge seated figures of stone, which were long included among the seven wonders of the world. these figures were statues of king amenophis iii and were placed in front of a great temple that he built at this place; but time has dealt hardly with the temple, as scarcely a trace of it remains. the figures with the pedestals are about sixty-five feet high and, as they are on the level plain near the banks of the nile, they can be seen from a great distance. though carved from hard sandstone these figures have suffered severely from the elements, so that the faces bear little trace of human features; still they are impressive from their mere size and from the fact that they have come down to us across the centuries with so little change. the southern statue is in the best preservation, but the northern one is of greatest interest because for ages it was believed to give forth musical notes when the first rays of the rising sun fell on its lips. the greeks called it the statue of memnon, and invented the fable that memnon, who was slain at troy by achilles, appeared on the nile as a stone image and every morning greeted his mother (eos) with a song. so many good observers vouched for these musical notes at sunrise that the phenomenon must be accepted as an historical fact. the romans invented the legend that when these sounds occurred the god was angry. hence the emperor, septimius severus, apparently to propitiate the god, made some restorations in the upper portion of the statue, whereupon the mysterious musical sounds ceased. some modern experts in physics have deduced the theory that this statue, carved from hard, resonant stone, really gave forth sounds when warmed up by the early sun after the heavy dews of night. similar sounds have been observed elsewhere, due to the splitting off of very small particles of stone by sudden expansion. whatever the cause of these mysterious sounds, the speaking statue has served as an inspiration to many poets. sailing down the nile on a small steamer few pleasure trips are more enjoyable than a steamer ride down the nile from luxor to cairo. my plans did not permit an extensive nile trip, so i went up the nile by rail and came down by the amenartas, one of cook's small boats. for one who has the leisure the best scheme is to take one of cook's express boats and make the round trip to assouan from cairo. the egypt and the arabia are two luxurious steamers specially arranged for the comfort of tourists. the nile at luxor is about a half-mile wide at extreme low water in december, although the marks on the bank show that it spreads over several miles of flat land when the heavy rains come in june and july. it is as muddy as the missouri or the san joaquin, but the natives drink this water, refusing to have it filtered. they claim, and probably with reason, that this nile water is very nutritious. the egyptian fellah or peasant seldom enjoys a hot meal. he chews parched indian corn and sugar cane, and eats a curious bread made of coarse flour and water. despite this monotonous diet the native is a model of physical vigor, with teeth which are as white and perfect as those of a pueblo indian. all around luxor are evidences of the tremendous force of the nile waters when in flood. at various headlands near the city the banks of the nile have been stoned up with solid walls, so that these may receive the full sweep of the flood waters. the great dam at assouan, perhaps the finest bit of engineering work in the world, holds up the main current of the nile and prevents the destructive floods which in the old days frequently swept away all the soil of the fellah's little farm. this dam has now been increased twelve feet in height, so that no water pours over the top. the farmers in egypt irrigate in the same way as the ryots of india. they lay off a field into small rectangular patches, with a ridge around each to keep the irrigation water in it. these rectangles make the fields look like huge checker-boards. plowing is done exactly as in the time of cleopatra. a forked stick, often not shod with iron, serves as a plow, to which are frequently harnessed a camel and a bullock by a heavy, unwieldy yoke. when these two unequally yoked animals move across the field, agriculture in the orient is seen at its best. unlike the japanese, the egyptian women do not work in the fields. their labors seem to be limited to carrying water in large jars on their heads and to washing clothes in the dirty nile water. the most common sight along the river is that of two women, with their single cotton garment gathered up above their knees, filling the water jars or rinsing out clothes in water that is thick and yellow with dirt. the steamer amenartas started down the river at two in the afternoon. the current was strong and the little steamer easily made fifteen miles an hour. now began a series of exquisite views of river life, which changed every minute and saved the voyage from monotony. the first thing that impresses the stranger who is new to egypt is the number and variety of the shadoufs for bringing the nile water to the fields. these consist of three platforms, each equipped with two upright posts of date palm trunks, with a crossbar. from this crossbar depends a well sweep, with a heavy weight at one end and a tin or wooden bucket at the other. one man at the level of the river scoops up a bucket of water and lifts it to the height or his head, pouring it into a small basin of earth. the second man fills his bucket from this basin and in turn delivers it to the third man, who is about six feet above him. the third man raises the water to the height of his head and pours it into a ditch which carries it upon the land. the heavy weights on the shadouf help to raise the water, but the labor of lifting this water all day is strenuous. the shadouf men work with only small loin cloths, and occasionally one of these fellows in a sheltered hole toils stark naked. despite the fact that their work is as heavy as any done in egypt, they receive the wretched pittance of two piasters or ten cents a day, out of which they must spend two and one-half cents a day for food. the shadouf is as old as history, and the methods in use for raising this nile water are the same to-day that they were in the earliest dawn of recorded history. as in india, there is a great dearth of farmhouses in these rich lands. the peasants are herded in squalid villages, the mud huts jammed close together, and the whole place overrun with goats, donkeys, pigs, chickens and pigeons. the houses are the crudest huts, with no window and no roof. life in these villages along the nile is as primitive as it is among the pueblo indians of arizona and new mexico. although their religion admonishes them to wash before prayers, these peasants appear to pay little heed to such rites. men, women and children are extremely dirty, and it is unusual to find anyone with good eyes. inflammation of the eyelids is the most common complaint and this disease is aggravated by the fact that the natives make no effort to drive away the flies that fasten upon the sore eyes of their little children. this is due to the common superstition that it brings ill luck to brush off flies. at every small station where the steamer stopped to land native passengers and freight a score of villagers would be lined up, each afflicted with some eye complaint, and all swarming with small black flies. at only a few towns along the nile from luxor to cairo were there any houses which looked like comfortable homes. the great majority of the houses were of sun-dried brick, and these were often in a ruinous condition. yet with their framework of graceful date palms, these squalid villages would delight the eye of an artist. for nearly the whole distance the west side of the nile is marked off from the desert by the high libyan mountains, gleaming white and yellow in the brilliant sunshine. these limestone cliffs were chosen for the tombs of the kings at thebes, and all along the river one could make out with a glass frequent tombs carved in the steep sides of these hills. the other side of the river was flat, with low ranges of hills. at sunrise and at sunset the most exquisite colors transformed the country into a veritable fairyland. the sun sank behind bands of purple and amethyst, and his last rays brought out in sharp silhouette the statuesque forms of women water-carriers and long lines of laden camels moving in ghostly silence along the river bank. very beautiful also were the pictures made by the dahabiehs and other native boats, with their big lateen sails and with the motley gathering of natives in the stern. all these boats have enormous rudders which rise high out of the water and add greatly to the effectiveness of the picture as seen against the sunset glow. the atmosphere along the nile is wonderfully clear, the sky is as blue and lustrous as fine silk, and the wind blows up clouds in fantastic shapes, which add greatly to the beauty of the scenery. all day the little steamer passes half-ruined villages, embowered in feathery palms, with camels in the background and an occasional bullock straining at the wheel which lifts the nile water on the shadouf. all day natives passed along the sky line, some on donkeys, others on camels, still others driving in front laden animals, whose forms could scarcely be distinguished amid the thick clouds of dust raised by their heavy feet. the creak of the shadoufs could be heard before we came abreast of the tireless workers. seen from the steamer the glamour of the orient was over all this poverty-stricken land, but seen near at hand were revealed all the ugly features of dirt, disease, hopeless poverty, unending work that yields only the coarsest and scantiest food. we passed miles on miles of waving fields of sugar cane, with great factories where this cane was worked up into sugar. we passed broad fields of cotton, with factories near at hand for converting the product into cloth. principalities of wheat--great seas of emerald green that stood out against a background of sandy desert--lined the banks at frequent intervals. but all these evidences of the new wealth that scientific irrigation has brought to this ancient valley of the nile means nothing to the egyptian peasant. these great industries are in the hands of native or foreign millionaires, who see to it that the wages of the native workers are kept down to the lowest level. before the pyramids and the sphinx wintry winds in cairo, which raised clouds of dust and sand, prevented me from seeing the pyramids until after my return from luxor. then one still, warm day it was my good fortune to see at their best these oldest monuments of man's work on this earth. yet impressive as are these great masses of stone rising from barren wastes of sand, they did not affect me so powerfully as the ruins of karnak and the tombs of the kings of thebes. three pyramids were constructed at gizeh and four other groups at sakkara, the site of the ancient city of memphis. that these pyramids were built for the tombs of kings has now been demonstrated beyond question, so that the many elaborate theories of the religious significance of these monuments may be dismissed. the ancient city of memphis was for centuries the seat of the government of egypt, and the tombs that may be seen to-day at sakkara preceded the rock-hewn tombs at thebes in upper egypt. the great antiquity of the tombs at sakkara makes these of importance, although much of the work is inferior to that at thebes. the pictures of the pyramids are misleading. they give the impression that these great masses of stone rise near palm groves and that the sphinx is almost as huge as the pyramid of cheops which overshadows it. in reality, the pyramids are set on a sandy plateau, about fifteen feet high, while the sphinx is practically buried in a hollow to the west of the great pyramid and can only be seen from one direction. when you stand in front of the big pyramid you can form no idea of its size, but you know from the guide book that it is seven hundred and fifty feet long and four hundred and fifty-one feet high. the height of each side is five hundred and sixty-eight feet, while the angle of the sides is fifty-one degrees fifty minutes. these statistics do not make much impression on the mind but, when it is said that this huge pyramid actually covers thirteen acres, the mind begins to grasp the stupendous size of this great mass of masonry. this pyramid to-day is of dirty brown color, but when finished it was covered with blocks of white limestone. these were removed by various builders and have served to erect mosques and temples. had this covering remained intact it would be impossible to climb the pyramid of cheops. from cairo and the nile, as well as from the desert, the pyramids are an impressive sight. unique in shape and massive as the libyan hills beyond them, they can never be forgotten, for they represent more perfectly than any other remains in egypt the control by the early kings of unlimited labor and materials. it used to be the fashion to sneer at the stories told by herodotus, but the excavations in egypt during the last thirty years have demonstrated that this old greek traveler was an accurate observer and that what he saw may be accepted as fact. he was the first to give any detailed description of the pyramids and of the enormous work of building them. herodotus visited egypt about b. c., and he related that one hundred thousand men were employed for three months at one time in building the great pyramid of cheops. the stone was quarried near the site of the citadel in cairo, and ten years were consumed in constructing a great road across the desert to gizeh by which the stone was transported. the remains of this road, formed of massive stone blocks, may now be seen near the sphinx. the construction of the big pyramid alone required twenty years. the story of herodotus that one hundred thousand men were once employed on this pyramid is plausible, according to flinders-petrie, as these months came during the inundation of the nile, when there was no field work to occupy their time. the ascent of the pyramid is an easy task for any one in good physical condition and accustomed to gymnastic work. two bedouins assist you from the front while an ancient sheik is supposed to help push you from the rear. in my case the bedouins had a very easy job, while the sheik enjoyed a sinecure. the stones are about a yard high, and the only difficulty of the ascent lies in the straddle which must be made to cover these stones. the ascent is made on the northeast corner of the pyramid, and much help is gained by inequalities in the great slabs of limestone which enable one to get a foothold. two rests were made on the upward climb, but we came down without any rest, covering the whole trip in about fifteen minutes. the view from the summit is superb. on two sides, the south and west, sketches the sandy desert, broken only by the groups of pyramids at abusir, sakkara and dashhur, which mark the bounds of the ancient city of memphis. the average tourist has more curiosity about the sphinx than about the pyramids, and here the reality is not disappointing. an impressive figure is this of a recumbent stone lion one hundred and eighty-seven feet long and sixty-six feet high, with a man's head that is full of power and pride. the nose is gone and the face is badly scarred, but here is the typical egyptian face, with the fine setting of the eyes and the graceful head. the journey to the rock tombs of sakkara and the site of ancient memphis is tedious, as it includes a ride across the sandy desert of eighty miles. a stop is made at the old house of mariette, the famous french egyptologist, who uncovered many of the finest remains in memphis. near by is the step pyramid, the tomb of a king of the fifth dynasty and one of the oldest monuments in egypt. near by are several pyramids and tombs that will repay a visit, as each gives some new idea of the extraordinary care taken by the ancient egyptians to preserve their dead and to assure them proper guidance in the land beyond the tomb. in one chapel are exquisitely carved mural reliefs, many of which still retain their original colors. in these chambers the hot, dry air is like that of the desert. a hundred years seem like a day in this atmosphere, where nothing changes with the changing seasons. under one's feet is the soft, dry dust stirred up by the feet of many tourists, but rain and sunshine never penetrate this home of the dead, and a century passes without leaving a mark on these inscriptions which were chiseled long before the children of israel made their escape from bondage in egypt. it seems incredible that so many momentous things should have occurred while in these still, warm tombs day followed day without change. [illustration: plate lvii a typical street in old cairo. these buildings show the architecture of cairo, with a mosque on the left with dome and minaret] [illustration: plate lviii an arab cafe in one of cairo's streets. the open air cafes, facing the sidewalk, abound in cairo. the smokers and coffee-drinkers pay no attention to passers-by] [illustration: plate lix women water carriers in turkish costume. one of these women is uncovered, while the other wears the yashmak or face mask. they carry large water jars on their heads] [illustration: plate lx the rameseon at karnak. six colossal statues of rameses ii of which three are in fair preservation] [illustration: plate lxi the avenue of sphinxes at karnak. the road from luxor to karnak was lined with recumbent rams, called krio-sphinxes, many of which still remain] [illustration: plate lxii an arab village on the nile. this is a typical village, the houses of sun-dried brick, like the california adobe, and the whole shaded by palms] [illustration: plate lxiii the colossi of memnon, near thebes. these gigantic figures on the west bank of the nile may be seen for many miles. they are sixty-five feet high, and stood originally in front of a temple] [illustration: plate lxiv the great sphinx, showing the temple underneath. this is the best view of the face, which has a certain majesty. the lion's figure is sixty-six feet high and one hundred and eighty-seven feet long] appendix hints for travelers some suggestions that may save the tourist time and money for a round-the-world trip the best plan is to buy a cook's ticket for six hundred and thirty-nine dollars and ten cents. this provides transportation from any place in the united states around the world to the starting point. the advantage of a cook's ticket over the tickets of other companies is that this firm has the best organized force, with large offices in the big cities and with banks as agencies in hundreds of places where you may cash its money orders. this is a great convenience as it saves the risk of carrying considerable sums of money in lands where thievery is a fine art. cook's agents may be found on arrival by boat or train in all the principal cities of a world-tour. these men invariably speak english well, and thus they are a god-send when the tourist knows nothing of the language or the customs of a strange country. at the offices of cook and son in all the large oriental cities one may get accurate information about boats and trains and may purchase tickets for side excursions. some of the oriental offices i found careless in the handling of mail because of the employment of native clerks, but this was not general. cook will furnish guides for the leading oriental tours and in india and egypt these are absolutely necessary, as without them life is made a burden by the demands of carriage drivers, hotel servants and beggars. cook will furnish good guides for japan, but it is unsafe to select natives unless you have a guarantee that they know the places usually visited and that they speak intelligible english. the pronunciation of japanese differs so vitally from that of english that many japanese who understand and write english well make a hopeless jumble of words when they attempt to speak it. their failure to open their mouths or to give emphasis to words renders it extremely difficult to understand them. good foreign hotels may be found in all the japanese cities and even those managed by japanese are conducted in european style. it is a pity that the hotels are not modeled on the japanese style, like the kanaya hotel at nikko, where the furniture and the decorations of the rooms are essentially japanese and very artistic. the average charge for room and board in japanese hotels of the first class is four dollars, but some of the more pretentious places demand from five to six dollars a day. the cost of travel in india is not heavy because of the moderate scale of prices. hotels usually charge ten rupees a day for board and lodging or about three dollars a day. carriage hire is cheap, especially if you have a party of four to fill one carriage. a victoria, holding four people, may be had morning and afternoon for twenty rupees, or an average of about one dollar and seventy-five cents a day each. railway travel is absurdly cheap. our party traveled second-class from calcutta to delhi, thence to bombay, madras and tuticorin, a distance of about thirty-five hundred miles--farther than from new york to san francisco--for one hundred and forty rupees or about forty-five dollars in american money. the first-class fare was nearly twice this amount, but no additional comfort would have been secured. we made the trip at low cost because a bargain was always made with hotelkeepers and carriage drivers. always make a definite bargain or you will be overcharged. a native guide is necessary not only to show you the places of interest but to arrange for carriages and to pay tips to servants. secure a mohammedan guide and you may rest content that you will not be cheated. his antipathy to the hindoo will prevent any collusion with servants. a good guide may be had for two rupees a day or about sixty-five cents, and he will board himself. murray's guide books for japan, china, the straits settlements and india are the most useful. these give the best routes and describe all the principal objects of interest. without such a guide-book, one is helpless, as the professional guides frequently omit important things which should be seen. it is needless to look for conscientiousness or honesty in the orient. you will not find them. to avoid trouble when hiring carriage or jinrikisha, make a definite bargain by the hour or by the trip. this you may do through the hotel porter. then, on your return, if the driver or the rickshaw-man demands more, refer the matter to the porter, and refuse to pay more than your bargain. if you do not take these precautions you will be involved in constant trouble and will be persistently charged twice what you should pay. even with these precautions, you cannot escape trouble in singapore, which is cursed with the greediest carriage drivers in the world. many travelers purchase cook's hotel coupons which provide for lodging and meals at certain hotels in every large city of the orient. my experience is that it is a mistake to buy these coupons, as all the hotel managers speak english or have hall porters who understand the language. you gain little by the arrangement, and you lose the choice of good rooms, as hotel managers are not partial to tourists who carry coupons, since the profit on these is small. in egypt, cook's tours, which are arranged to suit all tastes, are the most convenient. the best plan is to go up the nile by train and to come down by boat. do not neglect the ride down the river. it consumes more time but it is the only way in which you can get an idea of the charm of the scenery, the primitive life of the people, and the beauty of sunrise and sunset over the desert. above all things, arrange your itinerary carefully before you start. here is where cook's agent can help you materially, but you must not rely upon his advice in regard to steamship lines. he will recommend the p. & o. boats, as they are british, but practically every tourist who has made the trip will say that the north german lloyd steamers give the best service. engage your state-room several months in advance and pay a deposit, so as to get a receipt for the best berth in a certain room. unless you do this, you will have trouble and will probably be forced to sleep in an inside room on hot tropical nights. get a room on star-board or port-side, according to the prevailing wind. to be on the windward side means comfort and coolness at night. as soon as possible after boarding a vessel see the bath steward and select an hour for your morning bath. should you neglect this, you will be forced to rise very early or to bathe at night. if you wish certain table companions see the head steward promptly. if you travel on a p. & o. boat, engage an electric fan at the company's office, as there is a rule that you can't hire a fan after you are on board. the north german lloyd furnishes fans, which are a necessity in the tropics. there is a regular tariff for tips on most of the oriental steamship lines, graded according to the length of the voyage. you can always ascertain what to give to your waiter, room steward, bath steward, boot black and deck steward. these tips are always given on the last day of the voyage. american tourists are criminally lavish in giving tips, with the result that one who adheres to the rules of old travelers, is apt to be regarded as niggardly. it is to be noted that the richest travelers always conform to the regular schedule of tips. in all parts of the orient it is unsafe to drink the water of the country. if you do not relish bottled waters, demand tea; at any rate make sure that the water you drink has been boiled. i found hot tea an excellent drink even in the tropics and i was never troubled with the complaints that follow drinking unboiled water. it is well to make liberal use of the curries and rice which are excellent everywhere. these, with fish, eggs and fruit, formed the staple of my diet. never eat melons nor salads made of green vegetables; the native methods of fertilizing the soil are fatal to the wholesomeness of such things. bibliography books which help one to understand the orient and its people in this bibliography no attempt has been made to cover the field of books about the leading countries of the orient. the aim has been to mention the books which the tourist will find most helpful. guide books are indispensable, but they give the imagination no stimulus. it is a positive help to read one or two good descriptive accounts of any country before visiting it; in this way one gets an idea of comparative values. in these notes i have mentioned only the books that are familiar to me and which i have found suggestive. japan of all foreigners who have written about japan, lafcadio hearn gives one the best idea of the japanese character and of the literature that is its expression. hearn married a japanese lady, became professor of english literature at the imperial university of tokio, renounced his american citizenship, and professed belief in buddhism. he never mastered the japanese language but he surpassed every other foreign student in his ability to make real the singular faith of the japanese in the presence of good and evil spirits and the national worship of beauty in nature and art. hearn's father was greek and his mother irish. in mind he was a strange mixture of a florentine of the renaissance and a pagan of the age of pericles. in _the west indies_ he has given the best estimate of the influence of the tropics on the white man, and in _japan: an interpretation_, _in ghostly japan_, _exotics and retrospections_, and others, he has recorded in exquisite literary style his conception of japanese character, myths and folk-legends. his work in this department is so fine that no one else ranks with him. he seems to have been able to put himself in the place of the cultivated japanese and to interpret the curious national beliefs in good and evil spirits and ghosts. he has also made more real than any other foreign writer the peculiar position of the japanese wife. hearn was a conservative, despite his lawless life, and he looked with regret upon the transformation of old japan, wrought by the new desire to europeanize the country. he paints with great art the idyllic life of the old samauri and the loyalty of the retainers to their chief. sir edwin arnold, who in his old age married a japanese lady, has given excellent pictures of life in japan in _seas and lands_ and _japonica_. _religions of japan_ by w. e. griffis gives a good idea of the various creeds. mr. griffis in _the mikado's empire_ also furnishes a good description of japan and the japanese. in _fifty tears of new japan_, count okuma has compiled a work that gives a complete survey of japanese progress during the last half century. among the contributors are many of the leading statesmen and publicists of japan. of fiction, the scene of which is laid in japan, one of the most famous stories is _madame chrysantheme_ by pierre loti, a cynical sketch of the japanese geisha, or professional entertainer. another good story which lays bare the ugly fate that often befalls the geisha, is _the lady and sada san_ by frances little, the author of that popular book, _the lady of the decoration_. other books that will be found valuable are norman, _the new japan_; chamberlain, _things japanese_; treves, _the other side of the lantern_; murray, _handbook of japan_; clement, _handbook of modern japan_; d'autremer, _the japanese empire_; hartshorne, _japan and her people_; fraser, _a diplomatist's wife in japan_; lloyd, _everyday japan_; scidmore, _jinrikisha days in japan_; knox, _japanese life in town and country_; singleton, _japan, as described by great writers_; inouye, _home life in tokio_. manila the acqusition of the philippine islands by the united states has led to a great increase of the literature on the islands, especially in regard to educational and industrial progress. among the old books that have good sketches of manila are _a visit to the philippine islands_ by sir john browning. for sketches of the city since the american occupation see worcester, _the philippine islands and their people_; landor, _the gems of the east_; dennis, _an observer in the philippines_; potter, _the east to-day and tomorrow_; moses, _unofficial letters of an official's wife_; hamm, _manila and the philippines_; younghusband, _the philippines and round about_; stevens, _yesterdays in the philippines_; arnold, the philippines, _the land of palm and pine_; and leroy, _philippine life in town and country_. hongkong good descriptive sketches of hongkong may be found in norman, _the peoples and politics of the far east_; des veux, _a handbook of hongkong_; colquhoun, _china in transformation_; penfield, _east of suez_; treves, _the other side of the lantern_; ball, _things chinese_; thomson, _the changing chinese_; singleton, _china as described by great writers_; and liddell, china, _its marvel and mystery_. singapore sir stamford raffles, the founder of singapore, was one of the british empire builders who was very shabbily treated by the english government. unaided, he prevented the dutch from obtaining exclusive control over all the waters about singapore and he was also instrumental in retaining malacca, after the east india company had decided to abandon it. he was appointed lieutenant-governor of java after the english wrested the island from the dutch in . his ambition was to make java "the center of an eastern insular empire," but this project was thwarted by the restoration of java to holland. the raffles museum in singapore, one of the most interesting in the orient, was his gift. sketches of singapore may be found in sir frank swettenham's _british malaya_, _malay sketches_ and _the real malay_; wright and reed, _the malay peninsula_; belfield, _handbook of the federated malay states_; harrison, _illustrated guide to the federated malay states_; ireland, _the far eastern tropics_; boulger, _life of sir stamford raffles_; buckley, _records of singapore_. rangoon there is a large literature on burma, which seems to have appealed to british travelers. among the books that have chapters devoted to rangoon are cuming, _in the shadow of the pagoda_; bird, _wanderings in burma_; hart, _picturesque burma_; kelly, _the silken east_; macmahon, _far cathay and farther india_; vincent, _the land of the white elephant_; nisbet, _burma under british rule and before_; hall, _the soul of a people_ and _a people at school_. india the literature about india is very extensive, so that only a few of the best books may be mentioned here. to the tourist the one indispensable book is murray's _handbook for travelers in india, ceylon and burma_, which is well provided with maps and plans of cities. for general description, among the best works are malcolm, _indian pictures and problems_; scidmore, _winter india_; forrest, _cities of india_; kipling, _from sea to sea_; stevens, _in india_; arnold, _india revisited_; low, _a vision of india_ (describing the journey of the prince of wales in - ); caine, _picturesque india_; _things seen in india_. for the history of india, some of the best books are lane-poole, _mediæval india_ and _the mogul emperors_; fanshawe, _delhi, past and present_; mccrindle, _ancient india_; rhys-davids, _british india_; roberts, _forty-one tears in india_; holmes, _history of the indian mutiny_; innes, _the sepoy revolt_; curzon, _russia in central asia_; colquhoun, _russia against india_. on the religions of india: rhys-davids, _buddhism_; warren, _buddhism in translations_; clarke, _ten great religions_; hopkins, _religions of india_; arnold, _the light of asia_. egypt egypt has changed so much during the last twenty years that books written before that time are practically obsolete. the dahabiyeh is no longer used for nile travel, except by tourists of means and large leisure, since the tourist steamers make the trip up and down the nile in one quarter the time consumed by the old sailing vessels. cairo has been transformed into a european city and even luxor is modernized, with its immense hotels and its big foreign winter colony. bædeker's egypt is the best guide book, but be sure that you get the latest edition, as the work is revised every two or three years. the introductory essays in this volume on egyptian history, religion, art and egyptology are well worth careful reading. the descriptions of the ruins and the significance of many of the hieroglyphs are helpful. of general descriptive works on egypt, some of the best are penfield, _present day egypt_ ( ); jeremiah lynch, _egyptian sketches_, a book by a san franciscan which gives a series of readable pictures of cairo and the voyage up the nile; holland, _things seen in egypt_. of egypt, before it was transformed by the british, standard works are lane, _cairo fifty tears ago_; lady duff-gordon, _letters from egypt_ (covering the period from to ). good historical works are lane-poole, _egypt, and the story of cairo_; ebers, _egypt, descriptive, historical, and picturesque_. of the administration of england in egypt, the best book is lord cromer's _modern egypt_. other works are milner, _england in egypt_; colvin, _the making of modern egypt_. the story of gordon's death at khartoum is well told in stevens, _with kitchener to khartoum_ and churchill, _the river war_. several valuable works on egyptian archeology have been written by maspero and flinders-petrie. maspero's _art in egypt_, which is lavishly illustrated, will be valuable as a guide book. flinders-petrie's _egyptian decorative art_ is worth reading. index agra, east indian city of interesting features, ; the taj mahal, - arjmand, favorite wife of shah jehan, for whom the taj was built, benares, sacred city of the hindoos, - ; bathing ghats along the ganges, - ; toll levied by priests on all bathers, ; burning the dead by the river banks, - ; funeral ceremonies, bombay, gateway of india, - ; beauty of public buildings, - ; the apollo bunder, ; importance of the parsees in city life, - ; reception to king george v, ; holiday street scenes, ; religion and customs of the parsees, - ; wedding ceremonies, ; "towers of silence" where dead are exposed to vultures, - buddhism, temples at nikko, ; greatest temple, the shwe dagon pagoda at rangoon, ; first residence of buddha at sarnath, near benares, cairo, the capital of egypt, - ; much europeanized since ismail's time, - ; the street of the camel, - ; esbekiyeh gardens, ; shopping in the great muski bazar, ; island of roda, where moses was found, ; scenes in the old native city, calcutta, greatest commercial port of india, - ; former capital, ; the maidan or esplanade, - ; eden gardens, ; scene of the black hole, ; caste marks, ; scenes in bathing ghats on the hoogly, ; native quarter, - ; botanical gardens with great banyan tree, ; imperial museum, canton, the great business center of china, - ; exodus of people during revolution, ; boat city on the pearl river, - ; "hot-foot" boats, ; inside the ancient walls, - ; deserted stores on main street, ; buddhist temple of horrors, ; great rush of refugees, - ; scene of the assassination of tartar general, ; old buddhist water clock, cawnpore, scene of the worst massacre in the sepoy mutiny, - ; fatal mistake of general wheeler, ; treachery of nana sahib, ; butchery of women and children, chator, sir paul, who made hongkong a great city, delhi, ancient mogul capital of india, - ; tombs of moslem emperors, - ; squalor of common people, ; mogul palaces and mosques, - ; the kutab minar, - ; memorials of the mutiny, - ; fighting at kabul gate, egypt, the land of tombs, pyramids and mummies, - ; railroad ride from port said, ; features of the country, - ; cairo and its picturesque life, - ; luxor and karnak ruins of finest temples of ancient egypt, - ; thebes, tomb city of the egyptian kings, - ; sailing down the nile, - ; pyramids and the sphinx, - havelock, english general who fought his way into lucknow and helped defend the city against hordes of mutineers, hideyoshi, napoleon of japan, his memory revered, ; his castle, hongkong, greatest british port in the orient, - ; its fine public buildings and spacious water-front, ; splendid shops on queen's road, ; picturesque street crowds, ; mixture of races, ; night scenes in native quarter, ; cable railway to the peak, ; costly residences on mountain side, ; kowloon city, india, the most interesting country of the orient, - ; calcutta, most beautiful of indian cities, - ; benares, the sacred city of the hindoos, - ; lucknow and cawnpore, cities of the mutiny, - ; agra and the taj mahal, - ; delhi, the ancient mogul capital and now the british capital, - ; bombay, the european gateway of india, - ; the parsees and their curious customs, - japan, yokohama, ; aspect of rural life, ; bull, the beast of burden ; the jinrikisha, ; great courtesy of all classes, ; women as field hands, ; tokio, the picturesque capital, - ; nikko, city of temples, - ; kyoto, the ancient capital, famous for gardens and art work, - ; railway travel, - ; kobe, - ; osaka, chief manufacturing city, ; inland sea, ; nagasaki, - ; development of sense of beauty, - ; influence of the garden on artistic sense, - ; are the japanese honest? - ; influence of christianity, - ; the sampan, ; influence of military training, - ; loyalty to country, - karnak, the greatest temple of ancient egypt, - ; its enormous size, ; its hypostile hall, one of the wonders of the world, - ; hieroglyphs of seti and rameses, ; obelisks erected by queen hatasu, ; colossal statues and columns, ; cost in human life, kobe, greatest commercial seaport of japan, - ; its many foreign schools, colleges and missions, kyoto, ancient japanese capital, - ; richly decorated temples, ; satsuma, cloissone and damascene work, - ; attractive shops, ; great bronze daibutsa, ; oldest buddhist temple in japan, lawrence, sir henry, to whose wise precautions the british in lucknow owed their lives during the mutiny; he was killed in the early days of the siege, . lucknow, scene of the most famous siege in the indian mutiny, - ; ruins of the residency, ; story of the siege, - ; memorial tablets to british heroes, luxor, with ruins of the finest temple in egypt, - ; built by amenophis iii; restored and enlarged by rameses ii, - ; plan of the temple, - ; rameses exposed by egyptologists, ; temple of karnak, - manila, capital of philippines and american naval base in far east, - ; hospitality of americans, ; reenforced concrete favorite building material, ; its splendid docks, ; the escolta, ; the bridge of spain, ; the carabao or water buffalo, ; old walled city, ; historical gates, ; famous churches, ; doors open to the ambitious filipino youths, ; influence of american schools, - ; dr. george w. wright on religious work in philippines, - ; sanitary reforms which have made manila healthy port, ; work of the constabulary guard, ; scenes on the luneta, ; nipa huts of natives, - ; fondness of people for music, ; american gramophones in native huts, nana sahib, the evil genius of the indian mutiny, who broke faith with prisoners at cawnpore, shot the men, and ordered women and children butchered and cast into a well, nara, seat of oldest temples in japan, - ; tame deer in park, nicholson, john, brigadier-general, the ablest man the indian mutiny produced, ; he led the british march on delhi and fell at the storming of the lahore gate, nagasaki, great japanese seaport, - ; girls coaling steamers, - ; trip to mogi, nikko, the japanese city of temples, - ; eighth century buddhist temple, ; sacred red bridge, ; imperial tombs, - ; school pilgrimages, ; famous cryptomeria avenue to imaichi, - nile, sailing down the, - ; importance of river to egypt, ; ancient method of irrigation by shadouf, - ; poor pay for hard work, ; prevalence of eye diseases, ; squalid homes of the natives, ; beauty of views along the nile, osaka, japan's chief manufacturing city, ; hideyoshi's castle, parsees, importance in municipal life of bombay, ; religion that of zoroaster, - ; gifts by rich parsee merchants, ; quaint marriage customs, ; towers of silence where dead are exposed, - pyramids, among the oldest human work on earth, - ; size and cost of construction, - ; ascent of gizeh, ; features of the sphinx, ; rock tombs of sakkara, raffles, sir stamford, the maker of singapore and founder of great malayan museum, rangoon, burma's largest city, - ; elephants piling teak, - ; shwe dagon pagoda, center of the buddhist faith in orient, - ; splendid decoration of shrines, - shah jehan, the greatest builder among the mogul emperors of india, who immortalized his name by erecting the taj mahal, singapore, gateway to the far east, - ; humidity of atmosphere, ; world's largest dry dock, ; sir stamford raffles, ; great mixture of races, - ; traits of the malay, ; importance of chinese, - ; night scenes in malay and chinese quarters, - ; large opium dens, ; fine botanical gardens, taj mahal, the world's most beautiful building at agra, india, - ; built by shah jehan as memorial to favorite wife, ; cost in money and human life, ; its perfect architecture, ; lavish decoration, ; restoration by lord curzon, thebes, tomb city of the ancient egyptian kings, - ; desolate site across the nile from luxor, - ; electric-lighted tombs, ; rock-hewn tomb of rameses iv, ; tombs of other monarchs, - ; only one contains royal mummy, ; fine temple of queen hatasu, ; the ramessium, with largest statue found in egypt, ; colossi of memnon, ; why one of the statues was musical, tokio, the japanese capital, - ; its splendid parks, - - ; imperial palace, ; tombs of six shoguns, ; night work in shops, wheeler, general, whose confidence in his native troops, cost the lives of all the garrison of cawnpore, yokohama, much europeanized japanese city, ; good tourist outfitting point, and so ends the critic in the orient, containing the impressions of george hamlin fitch on the first half of his trip around the world. published in book form by paul elder & company and seen through their tomoye press by john swart during the month of april, mcmxiii, in the city of san francisco transcriber's notes: inconsistencies in the hyphenation of words retained. (hotfoot, hot-foot) in the original text, captions of plates and illustrations did not have terminating punctuation except for the caption of plate xxxvii. this caption had a terminating period which has been retained. in the original text, italic typeface was used for the entire text and headings of the chapters "introduction" and "the best results of travel in the orient". in the plaintext version of this ebook, the usual underscore markup has not been used to indicate italic type in these chapters. elsewhere in the text, occasional words in italic typeface have been marked up with underscores. pg. , unusual spelling of "embassadors" retained. pg. , duplicated word "of" removed. (mansions of the japanese") pg. , duplicated word "on" removed. (little trace on its walls) pg. , "hugh" changed to "huge". (as huge as the pyramid) index. in the original text, the last sub-item of an index entry did not end with any terminating punctuation except for the index entry "lawrence, sir henry". this entry had a terminating period which has been retained. material generously made available by internet archive (http://www.archive.org/index.php) note: images of the original pages are available through internet archive. see http://www.archive.org/details/mn ucmf_ a tour of the missions observations and conclusions by augustus hopkins strong, d.d., ll.d., litt.d. president emeritus of the rochester theological seminary author of "systematic theology," "philosophy and religion," "christ in creation," "miscellanies," "chapel-talks," "lectures on the books of the new testament," "the great poets and their theology," "american poets and their theology" philadelphia the griffith and rowland press boston chicago st. louis new york los angeles toronto winnipeg mcmxviii copyright, , by guy c. lamson, secretary published march, a personal foreword the forty years of my presidency and teaching in the rochester theological seminary have been rewarded by the knowledge that more than a hundred of my pupils have become missionaries in heathen lands. for many years these former students have been urging me to visit them. until recently seminary sessions and literary work have prevented acceptance of their invitations. when i laid down my official duties, two alternatives presented themselves: i could sit down and read through the new encyclopædia britannica, or i could go round the world. a friend suggested that i might combine these schemes. the publishers provide a felt-lined trunk to hold the encyclopædia: i could read it, and circumnavigate the globe at the same time. this proposition, however, had an air of cumbrousness. i concluded to take my wife as my encyclopædia instead of the books, and this seemed the more rational since she had, seven or eight years before, made the same tour of the missions which i had in mind. to her therefore a large part of the information in the following pages is due, for in all my journey she was my guide, philosopher, and friend. our tour would not have covered so much ground nor have been so crowded with incidents of interest, if it had not been for the foresight and assistance of the reverend louis agassiz gould. he was a student in our seminary forty years ago, and after his graduation he became a missionary to china. though his work abroad lasted only a decade, his interest in missions has never ceased, and he is an authority with regard to their history and their methods. i was fortunate in securing him as my courier, secretary, and typewriter, and his companionship enlivened our table intercourse and our social life. but he was bound that we should see all that there was to be seen. without my knowledge he wrote ahead to all the missions which we were to visit, and the result was almost as if a delegation with brass band met us at every station. we were sight-seeing all day, and traveling in sleeping-cars all night. though i had notified the public that i could preach no more sermons and make no more addresses, i was summoned before nearly every church, school, and college that we visited, and fifty or sixty extemporized talks were extorted from me, most of them interpreted to the audience by a pastor or teacher. my letters to home friends were often written on the platforms of railway stations while we were waiting for our trains, and after six months of these exhausting labors i still survived. these preliminary remarks are intended to prepare the reader for a final statement, namely, that the papers which follow were written with no thought of publication. they were simply a record of travel, set down each week, for the information of relatives and friends. i have been urged to give them a wider circulation by putting them into print. in doing this i have added some reflections which, for substance, were also written at intervals on my journey, and these, with sundry emendations and omissions, i have called my "conclusions." i submit both "observations" and "conclusions" to the judgment of my readers, in hope that my "tour of the missions" may lead other and more competent observers to appreciate the wonderful attractions and the immeasurable needs of oriental lands. i cannot close this personal foreword without expressing to my former students and the many friends who so hospitably entertained us on our journey, my undying sense of their great kindness, and my hope that between the lines of my descriptions of what i saw they will discover my earnest desire to serve the cause of christ and his truth, even though my impressions may at times result from my own short-sightedness and ignorance. only what i have can i give. augustus h. strong. rochester, august , . contents i. a week in japan - an ocean truly pacific brings us to a rainy japan the novel and the picturesque mingle in our first views of yokohama visit to the palace of a japanese millionaire a museum of japanese art and a unique entertainment our host, an orthodox shinto and buddhist conference of missionaries and their native helpers the pastor of the tokyo church invites us to his home reception at the women's college of japan, and an address there a distinguished company of educators at dinner we give a dinner to rochester men and their wives a good specimen of missionary hilarity and fellowship the temple of kamakura and its great bronze buddha the temple of hachiman, the god of war supplemented by the temple of kwannon, the goddess of mercy japan enriched by manufacture of munitions a native christian church and pastor at kanagawa immorality, the curse of japan, shows its need of christianity wonders of its inland sea, and great gifts of its people ii. a week-end in china - hongkong, wonderful for situation and for trade swatow, and our arrival there chinese customs, and english collection of them the mission compound of swatow, one of our noblest dr. william ashmore, and his organizing work william ashmore, his son, and his bible translations a great sunday service in a native new testament church the far-reaching influence of this mission, manned by many rochester graduates our expedition to chao-yang, to see the heart of china triumphal entry into that city of three hundred thousand inhabitants impressed by the vastness of its heathen population mr. groesbeck, the only minister to its needs an address to the students of his school a great procession conducts us to our steamer at swatow shall we be saved if we do not give the gospel to the heathen? iii. manila, singapore, and penang - a yellow sea, and white garments american enterprise has transformed manila filipinos not yet ready for complete self-government visit to admiral dewey's landing-place, and also to fort mckinley the interdenominational theological seminary and its influence printed and spoken english is superseding native dialects singapore, one of the world's greatest ports of entry british propose to hold it, in spite of native unrest heterogeneous population makes english the only language for its schools germans stir up a conspiracy, but it is nipped in the bud british steamer to penang, an old but safe method of conveyance kuala lumpur, the capital of the malay confederated states penang furnishes us with a great chinese funeral its immense preparation and cost show worship of ancestors mourners in white, with bands of hired wailers glorification of man, but no confession of sin or recognition of christ iv. three weeks in burma - burma, the land of pagodas the shwe dagon of rangoon is the greatest of these its immense extent and splendor the religion of burma is buddhism, a religion of "merit," so called pagoda-building in burma, coeval with cathedral-building in europe the desolation in which many pagodas stand shows god's judgment on buddhism burma is consecrated by the work of adoniram judson, and his sufferings our visit to aungbinle, and prayer on the site of judson's prison met and entertained by missionaries, our former pupils fruitful burma and its buddhism attracts famine-stricken india with its hinduism baptist missions in burma antedate and excel both romanist and anglican far outstripping these in the number and influence of converts the work of our collegiate and other schools is most encouraging the baptist college at rangoon and the theological seminaries at insein the lieutenant governor invites us to meet lord chelmsford, viceroy of india, at afternoon-tea a royal reception, with great conglomerate of races a demonstration of loyalty to the british crown the dinner of our rochester men at the house of rev. mr. singiser, including representatives of the mission press and the baptist college our final reception at dr. d. w. a. smith's, on mrs. smith's birthday v. mandalay and gauhati - mandalay, in burma, the type of buddhism; gauhati, in assam, the type of hinduism visits to maulmain and bassein, in burma, preceded both these king thebaw's palace, at mandalay, a fortress built wholly of wood the hill of mandalay and its pagoda, four pagodas in one we ascend eight hundred steps by taking extemporized sedan-chairs four successive platforms and four images of buddha waxwork figures at the top depict the vanity of life the kuthodaw in the plain below seen from this height four hundred and fifty pagodas in one, each with its buddha and his law engraved on stone the descent from mandalay hill more hazardous than the ascent buddhism compared with the religion of christ gauhati, the capital of assam, has also its temple on a hill this temple illustrates hinduism as mandalay illustrates buddhism its immoral cult claims to have an immoral origin in the wife of the god siva its priestesses a source of corruption to the british college and the whole country vain attempts to interpret hindu myth and worship symbolically the need of christian teaching as to sin and atonement vi. calcutta, darjeeling, and benares - calcutta, the largest city of india, so named from kali, goddess-wife of siva, the destroyer the temple of kali, its priestesses and its worship, an infamous illustration of hinduism the temple of the jains represents hinduism somewhat reformed the real glory of calcutta is its relation to modern missions the work of william carey, and his college and tomb at serampore our ride northward to darjeeling, and our view of the himalayas a temple of tibetan buddhists on our mount of observation benares, the mecca and jerusalem of the hindus a hotbed of superstition and devotion its golden temple, its bathing ghats and burning ghats on the sacred ganges our voyage of inspection in the early morning thousands bathing and drinking in the same muddy stream smallpox and plague in western lands traced back to this putrid river some of the temples have toppled over, being built on sand instead of rock vii. lucknow, agra, and delhi - on mohammedan ground, and the scene of the great mutiny elements of truth in the moslem faith make missions more difficult the defense of lucknow, one of, the most heroic and thrilling in history the only flag in the british empire that never comes down at night english missions and education are guaranties of permanent british rule in india the isabella thoburn college, under methodist control we see the "mango trick" under favorable circumstances agra, and the taj mahal, a wonder of the world, seen both at sunrise and at sunset the pearl mosque and the jasmine tower, surrounded and protected by the fort a flowering out of art, like that of cathedral-building in england moslem architects "designed like titans, and finished like jewelers" delhi, the capital of india before the reign of akbar the british respect ancient tradition by transferring their central government from calcutta to delhi the progress of india under british rule in the last fifty years indian unrest due in part to english mistakes in educational policy the friday prayer service in the great mosque of delhi viii. jaipur, mt. abu, and ahmedabad - the native states of india distinguished from the presidencies and the provinces their self-government a reward of loyalty in the mutiny the rajas influenced by western thought jaipur, the capital of a native state, called "the pink city" "a rose-red city, half as old as time" the maharaja's town-palace and astronomical observatory a visit to amber, the original metropolis, and his summer residence an elephant ride up the hill while hanging over the precipice the road to mt. abu, a wonderful piece of engineering we reach dilwarra, the greatest temple of the jains their reformed buddhism recognizes buddha as only one of many incarnations the temple is almost a miracle of art, and illustrates the genius of the east ahmedabad, a uniquely prosperous manufacturing and commercial city factories needed by india more than farms missions need employment for converts, to save them from famine ix. bombay, kedgaon, and madras - bombay, second in population in the indian empire hindus outnumber moslems and parsees the caves of elephanta, excavated in honor of siva, god of reproduction as well as of destruction his temple a cathedral, hewn inside of a mountain the lingam, or phallus, gigantic, carved out of stone, in the innermost shrine its worship a deification of man's baser instincts the towers of silence represent parseeism the dead are exposed in them to be devoured by vultures construction of the towers and details of the process compared with christian burial in hope of resurrection kedgaon, a happy contrast and relief the center of the work of pundita ramabai the story of her life a romantic and thrilling one the pitiable condition of child-widows in india touches her heart in time of famine she furnishes a refuge for two thousand four hundred of them the wonders of her plant, in schools, hospital, printing office, factory, and farm a great scholar of the brahman caste, she is recognized as the most influential woman in india madras, the third largest indian city, gives us our first tropical heat a center of mission work for the telugus and their tribal conversion new year's day reception at lord pentland's, the governor of the madras presidency followed by a reception from the rochester men, my former pupils x. the telugu mission - madras, next to calcutta and bombay in thrift and importance baptists have done most for the telugus, as congregationalists most for the tamils statistics of our mission are most encouraging self-government, self-support, self-propagation, require time conference at the house of doctor ferguson brings together men from four separate fields the theological seminary at ramapatnam, in charge of doctor heinrichs our reception by teachers and students, and value of their work ongole and the work of doctor baker, the successor of doctor clough laying the corner-stone of gateway to the new hospital country tour into the heart of telugu-land, and open-air preaching to the natives vellumpilly, where , were baptized, and sunset hill, where doctor jewett prayed kavali, and the work of mr. bawden for a hereditary criminal class industrial education side by side with moral and religious nellore, our first permanent station in south india its high school, under rev. l. c. smith; its hospital, and its nurses' training-school mr. rutherford, successor to dr. david downie, and mr. smith--all of them rochester men xi. the dravidian temples - the dravidians are the aborigines of india the aryan conquerors appropriated their gods, and siva married kali massiveness and vastness characterize their temples, but also oriental imagination and invention the temple at tanjore, with its court eight hundred by four hundred feet its multitude of chapels, each with its image in stone of the lingam, or phallus its central image of a bull, the favorite animal of siva its tower, or gopura, is the grandest in india its sculptures of gods and goddesses wonderfully realistic its appurtenances tawdry, childish, and immoral yet tanjore was the home, and is the tomb, of schwartz, the first english missionary to india the raja's library of oriental manuscripts madura, the center of dravidian worship, one hundred miles farther south temple built about two great shrines for the god siva and his wife minakshi five great pyramidal towers and a court eight hundred and thirty by seven hundred and thirty feet the "golden lily tank," and "the hall of a thousand pillars" dark alcoves and a festival night, the acme of hindu religion the palace of tirumala and his teppa kulam tank, one thousand feet on each side the noblest sight of madura is its american congregational mission under dr. j. x. miller, its schools and seminaries are revolutionizing southern india xii. two weeks in ceylon - ceylon not a part of india, but a crown colony of britain colombo, a european city, and english the best means of communication buddhism, crowded out of india, made its way southward a sacred tooth of buddha is preserved at kandy wesleyan methodist college and english baptist college at colombo the ananda college, a theosophical institution, unfavorable to christianity a refuge in nurwara eliya, six thousand two hundred feet above the sea switzerland without its ruggedness, and terraces of tea-plants lining the approaches thither forests of rubber make a sea of verdure the missionary rest-house at kandy the famous buddhist temple, and its evening worship its library the only sign of intelligence church of the english baptists welcomes us the botanical gardens, wonderful for their variety of products anurajahpura and its ruined pagoda, a solid conical mass of brick one thousand six hundred pillars of stone, the foundations of an ancient monastery cremation of a buddhist priest, and our reception by the high priest of the remaining temple xiii. java and buddhism - java, the jewel of the dutch crown, has thirty-five millions of people the "culture system" makes it immensely productive mistakes of holland in matters of government and education a back-bone of volcanic mountains furnishes unsurpassed railway views endless fields of rice and sugar-cane on hillside and plain a passionate people reveal themselves in their music, their shadow-dances, their use of the malay dagger the new policy of the dutch government shown in the botanical gardens more scientific and practical than those of ceylon, they minister to all the world doctor lovink, dutch minister of agriculture, conducts us the temple of boro budor, restored after ruin, the greatest wonder of java five times as great as any english cathedral sculptures in alto-relievo that would stretch three miles a picture-gallery of the life of buddha buddhism has no personal or living god, and no atonement for sin boro budor, slowly disintegrating, has no power to combat either mohammedanism or christianity xiv. the renaissance in india - this essay, a summary of the book of professor andrews, formerly of delhi, now associated with sir rabindranath tagore but with additions and conclusions of my own the renaissance in europe needed a reformation to supplement it, and a similar renaissance in india requires a similar reformation history of religious systems in india begins with the rig-veda, and is followed by the upanishads hindu incarnations are not permanent, and the trimurti is not the christian trinity the krishna of the puranas is a model of the worst forms of vice deification of god's works fixes the distinctions of caste, and the degradation of woman christianity is needed to unite the hindu and the moslem signs of an approaching reformation in the weakening of class barriers and the spiritual interpretation of the old religions the brahmo-somaj and the arya-samaj aim to bring hinduism back to the standards of the vedas the aligarh movement among the mohammedans, and the aligarh college in delhi swami vivekananda, and his denial that men are sinners the theosophical society and mrs. besant, a hindrance to missions justice renade, in his social reform movement, sees in christianity the one faith which can unite all races and all religions in india in christ alone india's renaissance can become a complete reformation xv. missions and scripture - some critics deny jesus' authorship of the "great commission" we must examine "the historical method," so called as often employed, it is inductive but not deductive, horizontal but not vertical deduction from god's existence normally insures acceptance of christ deduction from christ's existence normally insures acceptance of scripture scripture is the voice and revelation of the eternal christ the exclusively inductive process is not truly historical both paul and peter gained their theology by deduction since experience of sin and of christ is knowledge, it is material for science the eternal christ guarantees to us the _unity_ of scripture also the _sufficiency_ of scripture also the _authority_ of scripture the "historical method," as ordinarily employed, proceeds and ends without christ it therefore treats scripture as a man-made book, and denies its unity, sufficiency, and authority it sees in the bible not an organism, pulsating with divine life, but only a congeries of earth-born fragments xvi. scripture and missions - the "historical method" finds in psalm only human authorship and contradicts christ himself by denying the reference in the psalm to him a document can have more than one author, shown in art as well as literature predictions of christ in the old testament convinced unbelieving jews the "historical method" finds no prediction of christ in isaiah, and so contradicts john effect of this method upon the interpretation of the new testament it gives us no assurance of christ's deity, and ignores old testament proofs that he is prophet, priest, and king value of the "historical method" when not exclusively inductive effect of this method, as often employed, upon systematic theology if scripture has no unity, no systematic theology is possible unitarian acknowledgment that its schools have no theology at all effect of this method upon our theological seminaries to send out disseminators of doubts effect of this method upon the churches of our denomination to destroy all reason for their existence effect of this method upon missions to supersede evangelism by education and to lose all dynamic both abroad and at home this method was "made in germany," and must be opposed as we oppose arbitrary force in government the remedy is a spiritual coming of christ in the hearts of his people xvii. the theology of missions - is man's religious nature only a capacity for religion? the will is never passive, the candle is always burning moslem and hindu alike show both good and bad elements in their worship here and there are seekers after god, and such are saved through christ, though they have not yet heard his name first chapter of romans gives us the best philosophy of heathenism heathenism, the result of an abnormal and downward evolution the eternal christ conducts an evolution of the wheat, side by side with satan's evolution of the tares all the good in heathen systems is the work of christ, and we may utilize their grains of truth illustrated in hindu incarnations and moslem faith in god's unity and personality christ alone is our peace, and he alone can unite the warring elements of humanity a moral as well as a doctrinal theology is needed in heathendom but external reforms without regeneration can never bring in the kingdom of god the history of missions proves that heart must precede intellect, motive must accompany example the love of christ who died for us is the only constraining power only his deity and atonement furnish the dynamic of missions xviii. missions and missionaries - missionary work results in a healthy growth of the worker the successful missionary must be an all-round man he secures a training beyond that of any university course that training is spiritual as well as intellectual it tends to make him doctrinally sound as to christ's deity and atonement or convinces him that he has no proper place on a mission field a valuable lesson for our societies and churches at home new testament polity, as well as doctrine, is tested by missions our mission churches are becoming models of self-support, self-government, and self-propagation the physical environment of the missionary needs to be cared for the large house, many servants, and an automobile, are great and almost necessary helps all these can be obtained cheaply, and should be provided other denominations furnish better equipment than ours yet the days of missionary hardship are well-nigh past missionary trials are mainly social and spiritual; and there are enough of these but faithful work, in spite of hope deferred, will be rewarded at last i a week in japan the pacific ocean was very kind to us, for it answered to its name, and was pacific beyond all our expectations. sixteen days of smooth seas and lovely weather brought us by way of honolulu to yokohama. only the last day of our voyage was dark and rainy. but though the rain continued after our landing, japan was picturesque. on four out of our six days we drove about, shut up in water-tight buggies called "rickshaws." they were like one-hoss-shays, through whose front windows of isinglass we looked out upon the bare legs of our engineer and conductor, who took the place of the horse for twenty-five cents an hour. there were other sights on these rainy days--endless processions of slipshod men on wooden clogs, clattering their way through the narrow streets, while they protected themselves from the watery downpour by flat oil-paper umbrellas; other strong-limbed men acting as wheel-horses to draw or push incredible weights of lumber; and saving themselves from the wet by bushy coats of straw that made them look like porcupines; women, little and big, carrying babies on their backs, occasionally a girl, aged anywhere from four to eight, loaded with a baby aged two; shops, shops, shops, one-storied, artistic, fantastic, with signs on which ah sing and ah tong have mingled chinese characters and english, and which inform you that the proprietors can furnish you with the _sake_ of japan or the gasoline of the standard oil company; these things convince you that you are in the midst of a crowded population struggling for subsistence and ready to work, a population of inexhaustible vitality and enterprise. our first rainy day was distinguished by a visit to the palatial mansion of a japanese millionaire. mr. asano, the president of the steamship company that brought us thither, had invited the whole lot of first-class passengers to afternoon tea at his house in tokyo. that house is a veritable museum of japanese art. it reminded us of the collections of mr. j. pierpont morgan. there was a great retinue of servants, and we were escorted upon arrival to one of the topmost rooms, where we were served with tea and presented with symbolic cakes by a dozen gorgeously bedecked young girls, who proved to be the children and grandchildren of our host. this, however, was only a preparatory welcome, for it was followed by the real reception in a great audience-room below, where mr. and mrs. asano, together with their eldest son and daughter, gave us cordial greetings. a couple of hundred of our fellow passengers were gathered there and were partaking of light refreshments, with claret, tea, and mineral waters, while an expert japanese juggler amused them with his feats of sleight of hand. the tapestries and paintings of this house were exquisite products of taste and skill, and the total effect was that of great wealth accompanied by true love for the beautiful. but it was the mansion of an orthodox shinto and buddhist, for in every large room there was an alcove with the sitting figure of a bronze buddha. a more distinctly christian entertainment for that same rainy day was our reception by the conference of baptist missionaries and workers at the new tabernacle in tokyo. they had been called to meet doctor franklin and doctor anderson, who had been sent by our foreign missionary society to consult with them as to our educational policy in japan. we reached the conference on its last day of meeting, and we had a most valued opportunity of observing its method of procedure. half of those present were japanese workers who did not understand english, and it was a new experience to address them when every word had to be interpreted. the social intercourse that followed was delightful, for it enabled us to greet our former pupils in considerable numbers. we then took lunch at the house of doctor axling, the pastor of the tokyo church, while doctor tenny is president of the theological seminary. the little japanese missionary home, with its tiny secluded garden, its paper partitions, and its mingled reminders of an american household, were things long to be remembered. not less to be noted was the gratitude for our visit which was shown by our hosts. we had regarded ourselves as the persons honored and entertained. we learned that missionaries in a heathen land wonderfully appreciate the sight and the companionship of friends from their distant home. even more unexpected was our reception at the women's college of japan. since i had been more than thirty years a trustee of vassar college, and for some years chairman of its board of trustees, mrs. strong and i were the guests of honor, and i was the first speaker called upon. before me were five hundred young women in more somber dress than prevails at vassar. all rose to welcome me at the beginning of my address, and all rose again to thank me at its conclusion. most of these students understood only japanese and needed an interpreter. doctor zumoto, the accomplished editor of the japanese "herald of asia," translated my address into his own language after i had finished, having taken notes while i spoke. until the very end i had the impression that this was a christian college, and i innocently made the lord jesus the center and substance of my remarks, declaring that the renaissance of learning in japan needed to be supplemented by a reformation of religion. only when the evening was over did i learn that the institution was not only undenominational, but also non-religious, having buddhist as well as christian professors. doctors anderson and franklin were also guests, and when they followed me, they made the same mistake and made christian addresses. but the japanese management is very polite and very liberal, and even in the dinner that followed our _faux pas_ did not provoke a word of criticism. the guests at that dinner served by the students were from the most prominent educational institutions of japan. we highly appreciated the honor done us, and did not regret that in our ignorance of the situation we had given to that distinguished audience the true gospel of christ. another dinner of a very different sort was that which we ourselves gave at the grand hotel of yokohama to the rochester men. to my surprise twenty-four persons sat down, but this number included at least ten of the wives. chiba and axling, tenny and topping, the fishers, father and son, clement, brown, benninghoff, takagaki, kawaguchi, all except the last with their wives, made up the list. i was proud of them, for they are leaders of thought and of education in japan. only doctor bearing's absence on furlough in america, a furlough ended only by his lamented death, prevented us from inviting him, though he was not a rochester man. reminiscences of seminary life were both pathetic and amusing at that dinner. one thing impressed itself upon my mind and memory: our missionaries have not lost their sense of humor. under all their burdens of anxiety and responsibility they have retained their sanity, their hopefulness, and their good fellowship. the hilarity of our gathering was the bubbling over of cheerful dispositions, and the safety-valve gave evidence that there were large reserves of steam. missionaries are not a solemn set. they are only a good set of human beings made in the divine image, for is it not written that even "he that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh"? the next day was the brightest of the bright. we took advantage of it to visit the great temple of kamakura, and to inspect the greatest artistic monument of japan, the bronze image of buddha. it is a sitting statue, with folded hands and eyes closed, as if absorbed in mystic contemplation of his own excellence as a manifestation of deity, and careless of the sorrows and sins of the world. the great bronze image is fifty feet high, but it is hollow. we entered it, climbed up by ladders to its shoulders, and looked out of windows in its back. its hollowness seemed symbolic, for it has only the outward semblance of divinity and is deaf to all human entreaties. on that same day we visited the temple of hachiman, the god of war, most spacious and impressive in its park-like surroundings of ancient trees and noble gateways, but fearful in its accompanying images of revenge and slaughter. humanity needs compassion in the godhead. the japanese have felt this, and they have invented a goddess of mercy, kwannon by name. her shrine is the richest in japan. it constitutes one of the greatest attractions of the capital. millions visit it every year, and the offerings of its worshipers support a whole colony of buddhist priests. the avenue leading to the temple is lined with shops where mementoes of the goddess may be purchased, as in ephesus of old silver shrines might be bought in honor of the great goddess diana. it is the old story of buyers and sellers in the jewish temple. it was most pathetic to see a well-dressed and handsome woman bend herself almost double before the image, clap her hands to call the attention of the goddess, and then fold them in prayer, possibly for the child that had hitherto been denied her. it is well understood in this temple that, until the clink of coin is heard in the collection-box, it is vain to suppose that even the goddess of mercy will listen to a prayer. the god of war reigns in japan, rather than the goddess of mercy. war is more profitable. the sale of munitions to the russian government is enriching japan, as our sales to the allies are enriching us. the love of gain is an obstacle to the success of the gospel, here as well as in america. nothing but a mighty influence of the holy spirit can convince japan of sin, and bring her to the feet of christ. the work of our missionaries, however, is permeating all the strata of society. western science and western literature are so bound up with christianity that japan cannot easily accept them without also accepting christ. we wished to see mission work in a country field, and we begged mrs. fisher to go with us to kanagawa, a suburb of yokohama, where an educated milkman is pastor, and where the mary colby school of christian girls attends the worship of his church. the reverence and sincerity of the service impressed us. the warmth and abandon of the singing put to shame our western quartet choirs. here is a pastor who prefers to supplement his meager salary by selling milk on week-days, rather than give up the satisfaction of seeing his church entirely self-supporting. it seemed to me the model of a good ministry, and the prophecy of a multitude of new testament churches in japan, manned and financed and governed by the japanese themselves. so long as we of the west furnish both the preachers and their salaries, the japanese will not learn to depend upon their own administration or their own giving, and we will not have churches organized on correct principles and so rooted in the soil that they can stand the shocks of time and endlessly propagate the gospel. may "the little one" in kanagawa "become a thousand"! japan is a country where "every prospect pleases, and only man is vile." immorality is its curse. there is little drunkenness indeed, and gambling is strictly prohibited. but the relations of the sexes are almost wholly unregulated. patriotism and filial devotion take exaggerated forms, and girls can lead a life of shame in order to provide means for the education of their brothers. general nogi and his wife can commit suicide when his sons are killed in battle, and the whole country can regard it as so noble a deed that the general's desire to extinguish his family name is not permitted to prevent the adoption of it by another. the japanese are a nation of wonderful natural gifts. honor, enterprise, submission, accessibility to new ideas, powers of imitation and invention, make them the leaders of the orient. steamships of twenty-two thousand tons, and equal to any atlantic cunarders, yet built in their own dockyards by shipwrights who twenty years ago knew nothing of their trade, are a proof of extraordinary plasticity and ability. civilization and christianity may find new expression, if the japanese are subdued by the cross of christ. my interest in missions has been doubled since i came in contact with the practical work of our missionaries. we have able and devoted representatives on this foreign field, and i believe that god will make them mighty to dethrone buddhism, and to crown christ lord of all. yes, "every prospect pleases." when i sailed through the inland sea of japan, two hundred and forty miles long, studded with hundreds of islands small and great, islands often surmounted with glistening white temples or fortifications, i thought our thousand islands of the st. lawrence, and even the isles of the greek Ægean, were not to be mentioned in comparison. the landlocked harbor of nagasaki, with its encircling hills, is finer than our golden gate of the pacific. fuji-yama, snow-capped and symmetrical, seen against the crimson sunset sky, is more beautiful even than mount ranier when seen from tacoma, or vesuvius when seen from naples. japan is a land for poetry and song, a land to awaken the loftiest patriotism, a land to inspire and lead the world. provided, ah yes! provided, it can be converted to christ, and made his servant. the japanese is a natural orator; he has organizing ability of the highest order; he is accessible, yet independent. now is the time to make him a preacher of the gospel to all the east. china and india have already felt the influence of his military and political progress. let us, by pouring in the light of christianity, make him also their leader in true religion! ii a week-end in china hongkong is a city wonderful for situation and for trade. it has a landlocked harbor encircled by precipitous hills and large enough to float the navies of the world. it is the second largest port on earth for exports and imports, over six hundred million dollars' worth in a year. it is a meeting-place of the east and the west, a fortress of britain in china, a conglomeration of people, a center of influence for japan and for india, an object-lesson in sanitation, education, and municipal government. the dominating religion is that of the church of england, and the hongkong university, though endowed in part by wealthy chinese, follows english models and has a staff of english professors. i mention hongkong only to make more clear my description of swatow, its northern neighbor. the situation of swatow is very like that of hongkong. a noble harbor encircled by steep hills, it is one of the chief ports between hongkong and shanghai, and only a single night's steamer-ride from hongkong. its attraction to us lay in the fact that it is more chinese than hongkong, a principal seat of presbyterian and baptist missions, and not so dominated as is hongkong by the church of england. as hongkong is an island, so our baptist mission compound is on an island, separated from the city of swatow by the bay on which hundreds of sampans and fishing-boats with lateen sails are always riding, and at whose wharves many a great steamship is loading or unloading freight. when our vessel arrived, we were quickly surrounded by a multitude of smaller craft, manned by clamorous tradesmen selling wares or seeking employment. the commissioner of british customs, who was our fellow passenger, most courteously invited us to share his motor-launch, and when we had landed on the other side of the bay he sent us up the hill to the mission compound in two of his sedan-chairs, each one borne by two stout men in picturesque uniform: and wearing the insignia of the customs office. a word about the english customs may be interesting. to satisfy english creditors, and later, to pay interest on indemnities for the boxer uprising, china mortgaged the larger part of her duties on foreign imports. sir robert hart was appointed inspector general, to superintend this collection of duties. he introduced system and honesty, where before there had been only disorder and peculation. from twenty to thirty million dollars are in this way collected every year. swatow is the third port in the amount thus obtained, itself furnishing two to three millions of the aggregate result. but this putting her collection of customs into the hands of foreigners, though it has taught china her own wastefulness and the superiority of western finance, is a burden so humiliating that it cannot always continue. when china fully awakes, she will realize her strength and will reclaim what her weakness ceded to great britain. our mission compound is one of the noblest in the east. it is due to the foresight and executive ability of dr. william ashmore, senior. he began his missionary work in bangkok, siam, but was transferred by our missionary union to swatow, with the view of opening china to our missionary efforts. he had irish blood in his veins. he was witty and eloquent, fervid and passionate. but he was also a man of grit, and a hero of the faith. he wanted a quiet base of supplies from which he could send out expeditions into the heart of china. he had no means of any account. but he saw the possibilities in these steep and barren hillsides opposite swatow, and for six hundred dollars he bought a tract which he gradually turned into a garden, with twenty mission buildings and residences so thrust into the rocks and so overhanging one another, that the whole plant seems a miracle of engineering. like a fortress, it commands the city of swatow across the bay, very much as governor's island commands new york. from its church and its schools have gone out a score of evangelists and native pastors, to turn swatow and the whole country within a radius of a hundred miles into a present seed-plot and a future garden of the lord. william ashmore, senior, died seven years ago. but he left a son of the same name, who is a chinese scholar of wide reputation, a sound theologian, and a leader greatly beloved. he has nearly completed a translation of the bible into the colloquial chinese--a felt need of many years. at his house, so wedged into the rocky hillside that a typhoon might seem equal to washing it down into the bay, we were most hospitably entertained. here we spent a memorable sabbath day. at the church service, at least five hundred church-members and pupils of the various schools were gathered, and i addressed them on "faith, as both a giving and a taking"--a giving of one's self, and a taking of christ to be ours. doctor ashmore interpreted my talk to the audience, sentence by sentence. the whole service was to me an inspiring illustration of new testament order and simplicity, for my address and the sermon of doctor ashmore which followed had been preceded by free participation of members of the church, in which one happy father arose to give thanks for the birth of a girl-baby, after five sons had been given him--a great change from the time when new-born girls were despised and often thrown out into the street. this reverent congregation, worshiping god in freedom and sincerity, seemed the prophecy of a redeemed china. this congeries of schools, from kindergarten to theological seminary, with ashmore, capen, page, and waters for instructors, and groesbeck, speicher, lewis, foster, and others for evangelists, has already permeated a whole province with christian teaching. it needs an institutional plant in the city, where it already has a noble location, and it also needs a motor-launch to carry its students to the field across the bay, where they can find opportunity to win the multitude to christ. even swatow is partly anglicized. we wished to see old china, heathen china, and brother groesbeck gave us the opportunity. only twenty miles from swatow lies the city of chao-yang, where this pioneer missionary has for eighteen years been stationed. chao-yang is a larger city than swatow; the chinese count it as containing a population of three hundred thousand. it is the converging point of all the trade that reaches swatow from a hundred miles to the south and the west. yet all this trade is conducted through a narrow canal, so congested with boats that there are innumerable delays. even when the boats reach the waters of the bay, the remaining channel is shallow for lack of dredging, and launch-progress is very slow. we had ocular proof of this latter evil; but we at last reached the dock. then came a reception entirely new to our experience, and one which we can never forget. eighty young men from the mission school met us, all in white uniforms with sashes of blue. we passed through their lines, forty boys on each side baring their heads as we passed. then a procession was formed. a brass band, with bugles and resounding drums, led the way. the student escort followed. after the long rows of boys came an honor-squad of chinese soldiers, shouldering their guns and bearing the chinese and the american flags. this portion of the escort had been furnished by the chinese governor, who in this way certainly showed his friendly regard for the american mission. we concluded the procession, sitting in our sedan-chairs, each of our party of four borne upon the shoulders of four men. the band struck up, a great explosion of firecrackers ensued, and we began our journey of a mile and a half to the gates of the city, and then two miles and a half farther through its crowded streets, until we reached the mission buildings and the residence of mr. and mrs. groesbeck on the other side of the town. the chinese are great on ceremonial, and all this reception had been arranged by the students themselves, in honor of mr. groesbeck's teacher and his teacher's wife. needless to say that i was astounded at such a reception, for augustus cæsar never made an imperial entry in rome more thrilling than the triumphal entry which augustus strong made that day into the great city of chao-yang. mr. groesbeck said that no public notice had been given of our coming. yet the whole population of three hundred thousand seemed to have come out to meet us. imagine a street two and a half miles long, but only ten to fifteen feet wide, thronged with water-carriers and beasts of burden compelled to give way to our great procession! every nook and corner of the way, the fronts of the one-storied shops and the entrances to the cross-streets, were all a perfect sea of faces--rows of children little and big overtopped by rows of half-naked men, with scores of women peering wistfully from windows in the rear--faces by thousands and tens of thousands, till it seemed as if the whole population of the planet had emptied itself into chao-yang. i looked upon hundreds of splendid forms of men, naked above the waist, and carrying heads worthy of notice from any sculptor, none of them hateful, all of them impressed and wondering, and they seemed to me the embodiment of china crying out for god. when we were only half-way through the city, the endless masses of humanity had so impressed me that i could not restrain the tears. the sight was simply overwhelming. and all this the parish of one man! it is to save this great city, now almost wholly given to idolatry, that mr. groesbeck asks for money to build in its very center an assembly-room and an institutional church, and that doctor lesher asks for a hospital building to facilitate his medical work. i made an address to those eighty boys that evening, as they stood at attention before me. half of them were still heathen, but their fathers had sent them to this christian school, believing that they needed a better religion than that of confucius or of buddha. i urged them to become soldiers of christ, and to follow him as their commander. i did not conceal from them the fact that such following might involve opposition and earthly loss. but i promised them that, if they suffered with christ, they would also reign with him. we returned from chao-yang very sober and thoughtful, for our visit had been a revelation of appalling needs. swatow seemed a paradise after such a visit. the smiling faces of so many christians, and the signs of a truly christian civilization, inspired me with new hope for the future. but our time had come for leaving china, at least temporarily, and india was at once to be visited. our departure from swatow was almost as spectacular as our entry into chao-yang. there was no military guard, and there were no firecrackers, but there was a fine brass band of academy boys, to lead our procession of sedan-chairs, as we passed through the long lines of scholars who had gathered with their teachers to bid us farewell. the schools were all represented. first came the little kindergartners, then pupils of the grammar school, the girls' school, the women's school, the bible-women's training-school, the boys' academy, and finally, the theological seminary. they numbered more than three hundred in all. some of the teachers accompanied us to the steamer. we parted from them with regret, but we were thankful that they could remain to prepare the way for a new religion, education, and civilization in china. my week-end in china leaves me with a new sense of the vastness of the heathen world, and of its absolute dependence upon christ, as its only possible saviour. the question whether the heathen will ever be saved if we do not give them the gospel, is not so serious a one for us as the other question whether we ourselves will ever be saved if we do not give them the gospel. iii manila, singapore, and penang each of these cities might seem to be the new jerusalem, if you were to see only its european part and the dress of its inhabitants. their european residents are all arrayed in white. not all of them are saints, however. the white is purely external and compulsory. heat is a great leveler, and we are nearing the equator. when we approached manila we were in the tail of a typhoon, but the danger was past. indeed, since we left san francisco, we have encountered no storm, have had only smooth seas, and have witnessed continually what Æschylus called "the innumerable laughter of the ocean waves." it was pleasant to perceive that american enterprise and administration have transformed manila, the capital of the philippine islands, from a medieval into a modern city. its newly constructed streets and pavements, water-works and drainage, electricity and the trolley, have turned this old and dilapidated spanish town into a place of order and beauty. its parks and gardens, its municipal buildings and hospitals, are an object-lesson to all beholders. the walls of the fort still remain, but the moat has been filled up. the roman catholic cathedral shows the large designs of a former priesthood to capture the people by architecture and ceremonial. but protestant churches, missions, and schools, are coming to have the first place in popular esteem. the former palace of the spanish governor is now the meeting-place of the democratic legislature, and the jones bill, recently passed by our congress, but now locally known as "the bill jones," has given hopes of a complete and speedy filipino independence. our observation of the place, and our intercourse with residents of manila, lead us to doubt the wisdom of our immediate relinquishment of authority over these islands. eager as are the filipino leaders for self-government, they have not yet learned the art of self-restraint. the recent trouble in the great hospital illustrates this. its american superintendent has resigned his office, for the reason that his filipino staff and subordinates conspired to make discipline and sanitary regulations impossible. they desired to manage the institution themselves, when they were incompetent to enforce cleanliness and order. what happens in hospital work happens also in all branches of civil administration. it will take a whole generation to raise up officials who can be trusted to do their work for the public good, rather than to provide comfortable and remunerative positions for themselves. we visited the spot, five miles away, where our american troops, under admiral dewey, landed to besiege the town. we motored to fort mckinley also, where our soldiers still command the situation. but our main interest was in the mission schools and in the interdenominational theological seminary. in these educational institutions all the instruction is in the english language. they are americanizing as well as evangelizing the population. the establishment of universal and compulsory school attendance will in a few years turn a spanish-speaking into an english-speaking people, and will unify the education and the civilization of the islands. nothing indeed is more remarkable in the orient than the gradual superseding of the native dialects by the printed and spoken english. in the great country of india, it is to be remembered, english is the required language in school and court, as well as in every government office. even the romanizing of written chinese and japanese will make vastly easier the political unity and the religious evangelization of china and japan. when we reached singapore, we found ourselves in one of the world's greatest ports of entry. it is also one of the keys to the orient, as sir thomas raffles perceived more than a century ago. its splendid government buildings and its strong fortifications show that the british propose to hold it to the end. the recent incipient revolt, which was fortunately nipped in the bud when it seemed to the conspirators on the verge of success, and which was punished by the summary execution of thirty or forty rebels without the news of it getting into the papers, showed that germany had much to hope for and britain much to fear from the unrest of these heterogeneous populations. i had a vivid reminder of all this at the methodist episcopal mission, where i found over sixteen hundred scholars in attendance, and where i addressed five hundred of them at their morning prayers. one of the chief difficulties of christian work in singapore is the aggregation and mixture of races. seven different nationalities are represented in the schools. the tamil, the malay, and the chinese are the most numerous, and of these the chinese take the lead. fifty thousand chinese immigrants enter the port of singapore every year, mainly because there is employment for them in the rubber plantations of the straits settlements. the congestion of population in china drives them southward to singapore, and from singapore they swarm northward to burma, southward to java, and westward to india. this mixing up of the many different nationalities makes it impossible for the missions in singapore to teach their pupils in any other language than the english. this requisition of english seems to some of the people a slur upon their own tongue, and a sign of british ascendency. they are jealous of the english, even while they perceive their own dependence upon them. only british justice and watchfulness can keep in check the disposition to revolt on the part of some classes with which the government has to deal, especially when these classes are stirred up by german spies and german money. thus far all seditious attempts have been put down, and the traveler learns to bless the wisdom of british administration, and to rest secure and confident under the folds of the union jack. we left singapore for penang with some regret, for the reason that large steamers must be exchanged for small steamers. the one we took was exceedingly good and modern. another on which we embarked somewhat later seemed to have come down from the days of noah and the ark. but british steamers, however old and small, are clean and safe. you "get there" all the same. on our way to rangoon our first stop was at port swetterham, from which we motored twenty-seven miles to kuala lumpur, the capital of the federated malay states--federated under the british crown. here is a city of malays and chinese, with british government buildings, mohammedan mosques, buddhist temples, an english cathedral, and a methodist church. our road thither led us through seemingly endless forests of rubber trees and of coconut palms. the profusion of tropical vegetation was both novel and impressive. these federated malay states furnish the world with more than half its supply of rubber, and many english and american investors are growing rich from the soaring of prices induced by the war. penang, however, furnished us with our greatest sensation. it was a chinese funeral. in this city of two hundred thousand inhabitants, a millionaire chinese banker had died. he was a buddhist as well as a confucianist, but also a loyal and patriotic supporter of charitable institutions, and of the british rule. he had given to the british government a number of aeroplanes to facilitate its military operations, and a large sum of money for its war-loan. when he died, the customary worship of ancestors, which is a part of chinese religion, as well as gratitude for his past gifts, prompted his family to plan a sumptuous funeral. it is said to have cost them thirty thousand dollars. we arrived in penang just in time to see the show. all the way from singapore, indeed, we were accompanied on our steamer by a fine brass band, which was only one of three brass bands hired to furnish music for the funeral service. my powers of description fail, when i attempt to tell the wonders of a funeral procession fully a half mile long. it was headed by a symbolic float of waxwork figures, in which a colossal horse, prancing on its hind legs, seemed just about to soar into the air. the horse was held in by four angelic forms following and holding in their hands scepters of royalty. this apparition reminded me of the horses and chariot in which elijah ascended to heaven, and it seemed to indicate that the deceased had departed with all the honors heaven and earth could bestow. a band of music accompanying the float, and playing solemn but not mournful strains, gave color to this interpretation. a retinue of sedan-chairs, decorated with all the colors of the rainbow, came next in order. these sedan-chairs were empty of occupants, and contained long strips of red paper on which were written the names and merits of the millionaire's ancestors, to be read by buddhist priests at the grave. the chairs were each the gift of some relative or friend of the departed. they symbolized the welcome given him by those who had gone before him to the better land. a second band of music was followed by a body-guard of british soldiers in khaki, deputed by the british governor to show his estimate of the character and loyalty of the deceased. then came the hearse, if hearse it could be called. it was really an enormous catafalque, decorated with gold tinsel and costly embroideries. peacocks and birds of paradise were depicted on its silken hangings. a dozen men, in elaborate robes of blue, carried this gaudy structure upon their shoulders, while other gorgeously attired attendants bore great ribbon-banners of satin, say twenty feet long by four feet wide and of the most brilliant colors, inscribed with chinese characters and making known the virtues of the departed. but the most curious part of the procession, was yet to come. preceded by the third band of music were the offerings of food and drinks which were to furnish sustenance to the spirit in the world into which he had now entered. there were six roasted sucking-pigs, laid in order, on portable tables, with baskets of rice, oranges, bananas, all kinds of fruit and confectionery, and cups of tea and wines. these were carried to the cemetery, to be presented to the departed spirit at the grave, then jealously guarded for an interval, finally in part given to the officiating priests, and in part consumed at a feast held by the surviving members of the family. the costlier the offerings, the better would the feast be enjoyed. there was no lack of priests in this ceremonial. they were young and clean-shaven, and looked as if they had enlisted for this very service. i thought i could discern a sly twinkle in their eyes, as they inspected the preparations for the feast, before the march began. the mourners must not be forgotten. among the chinese, white, and not black, is the appointed sign of mourning. the four wives of the deceased and the members of his family were accordingly dressed in the coarsest of white sackcloth, with ashes sprinkled over their faces, and they walked behind the hearse, howling. it was a piteous spectacle, reminding one of the professional and hired wailers in palestine, where "the mourners go about the streets," uttering dismal lamentations which can be bought for money. far be it from me to suggest that such was the lamentation which we heard that day, for there is reason to believe that in this case the deceased was respected and beloved. this ceremonial had required long and elaborate preparation. the death indeed occurred last july; the body had been embalmed; it had lain in state and open to public inspection for four whole months; the funeral did not take place until november. a vast amount of detail had been attended to and provided for. great packages of silken umbrellas had been stored to shield the heads of guests and servants. all the bearers of sedan-chairs, scores in number, were clad in silken uniforms; there were banners, and inscriptions, and lanterns, galore. everything was done to impress the chinese multitude with the greatness of the occasion. but it was all a glorification of man and of his virtues. there was no confession of sin, nor assurance of pardon; no proclamation of a divine redeemer; no promise of life and immortality in christ. heathen religions are man's vain effort to win heaven by merits of one's own. only christianity is god's revelation of salvation "without money and without price," through the sacrifice and death of his only son. this is the gospel which confucianist and buddhist, hindu and mohammedan, need to-day, and which, thank god, our missionaries are giving them. iv three weeks in burma burma is the land of pagodas. these places of worship are the most striking feature of every landscape. their bell-shaped domes, startlingly white, or so covered with gold-leaf as to shine resplendent in the sunlight, crown many a hilltop and constitute the chief beauty of the towns. the pagodas are usually solid structures of brick, with facings of plaster, and they are buildings at which, rather than in which, worship is offered. there are exceptions, however. the more ancient of these edifices, like the ananda at pagan, have inner chambers enshrining gigantic statues of buddha, with corridors around the chambers, quite comparable to the aisles of english or french cathedrals. but the greatest of all the burmese pagodas, the shwe dagon of rangoon, is a solid mass of brick, with no interior cell, yet enormous in size, erected on a broad platform one hundred and sixty-six feet from the ground, towering to an additional height of two hundred and seventy feet, and crowned with a jewelled "umbrella" at the total elevation of four hundred and thirty-six feet above the teeming streets of the city below. the main platform from which the pagoda proper rises is an immense court nine hundred feet long by six hundred and eighty-five feet wide, and crowded with minor pagodas and shrines. this great esplanade is approached from the four points of the compass by long covered arcades, lined with shops in which offerings of every description can be bought. on the marble floor of the main court and before the minor shrines these offerings are presented by scores of worshipers prostrating themselves before statues of buddha of every size. and yet the great conical or bell-shaped dome of the pagoda is its chief attraction, for this is covered with gold-leaf from its base to its summit, and its shining splendor salutes the traveler from miles and miles away. the religion of burma is buddhism. buddhism is a religion of "merit," so called, and the surest way to acquire "merit" is by building a pagoda. repairing an old pagoda will not answer the purpose; hence many an old pagoda goes to ruin, side by side with a new one coated with whitewash or gold-leaf. curiously enough, the epoch of pagoda-building was almost coincident with that of cathedral-building in england and france, that is, from a. d. to . when one sees at pagan an area along the irrawaddy river eight miles long and only two miles wide, with nearly five thousand pagodas, multitudes of them small and in ruins, but many still standing great and splendid in their proportions, it seems impossible to doubt that a certain genuine religious impulse, however blind and mistaken, led to their erection. there they stand, mere relics of a magnificent past, but now erect in the midst of desolation, with only scattered huts about them, where once there must have been a dense population, rich and lordly. the fate of these towering monuments of idolatry and superstition, now for the most part given over to the moles and the bats, shows what god can do for pagodas, and encourages us to believe that missionary effort will be mighty through god to the pulling down of similar more modern strongholds, together with all the high things that exalt themselves above the knowledge of his truth. this leads me to speak of the great missionary work that is now honeycombing and undermining the foundations of heathenism in this pagoda-land. we came to burma to see what god has wrought. the labors and sufferings of adoniram judson appealed to us even in our childhood. we wished to see how the mustard-seed which judson sowed in faith has grown up to bear fruit. so we went to aungbinle, where for twenty long months judson was imprisoned and tortured. there we seemed to hear god's word to moses: "take off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place where thou standest is holy ground." we were reminded also of the burning bush, which was ever burning but not consumed. great forward movements in history are born in suffering. through death to life, and the cross before the crown--that was the way of christ, and it will be the way of his followers. we gathered, a small group of missionaries and visitors, in the little chapel that has been built upon the site of that old prison, and we prayed, with a lot of dusky villagers and children before us, that god would yet more gloriously prosper the work of missions. we had every advantage in our investigations in burma. thirteen of my former pupils are now missionaries in that land. for many years they have been inviting me to visit them. nine missionaries met us at the dock, as we landed from singapore and penang. they have made our visit delightful by their affectionate and boundless hospitality. morning, noon, and night have been full of sightseeing, of visiting mission churches and schools, of "chotas," or little breakfasts, of "tiffins" or substantial lunches, or afternoon-teas and dinners at the close of the day. the social and kindly spirit of it all has turned what otherwise would have been wearisome into a succession of pleasant experiences. but there has been work, and there has been hard thinking also. making three addresses a day, longer or shorter, for three weeks in succession, is no sinecure. i am sometimes called an "octogeranium," but i have not been permitted to waste my sweetness on the desert air. it is a wonder to me that i have survived so much stress and rushing, but i am compelled to say that good appetite and good sleep have made me feel in better health and spirits than for many months before. what i have seen has gladdened my eyes and warmed my heart. closer contact with mission work and mission workers has broadened my ideas, given me more sympathy, more zeal, and more hope. the vastness of these heathen populations, their appalling needs, together with their infinite possibilities, have dawned upon me as never before. burma has sixty millions of people. it is a most fruitful land, never visited by the famines which ravage india proper, the land west of the bay of bengal. it enshrines a religion which, with all its ignorance and superstition, is more free from gross immorality than that which prevails on the other side of the bay. its people are the most heterogeneous of any upon earth. though the proud burman native is still the dominant power, he has now to compete with the rising intelligence of the karens, the sturdiness of the chinese, and the subtlety of the hindus. these last two peoples have in late years in large numbers migrated hither. mohammedan mosques are rising side by side with the older buddhist pagodas. the parsees are numerous and influential, and theosophists are not rare. rangoon is probably the capital city of buddhism, for here at any rate is its most splendid temple. and rangoon is a sort of melting-pot of all races. burmans and chinese are intermarrying, and are producing a most vigorous offspring. sikhs and malays, by their peculiar dress, make picturesque the streets. i know of no greater mixture of races, unless it is in the city of new york, where we have more jews than there are in jerusalem, and more italians than there are in rome. here in rangoon, however, all these peoples preserve their distinctive characteristics of dress and language, so that racial differences are more apparent. the roman catholics and the representatives of the church of england have made great efforts to capture burma. they have established noble plants in the way of church edifices, hospitals, and schools. the leper asylum of the romanists is an impressive and worthy provision for the housing and treatment of hundreds thus afflicted. the cathedral and school of the anglican church show a most praiseworthy estimate of the needs of this great province of the british empire, and breakfasting with bishop fyffe, the metropolitan of rangoon, gave us a pleasing impression of his kindly christian spirit. the methodist episcopal church has also its representative here, and all of these evangelizing agencies are supplemented by the work of the y. m. c. a., the y. w. c. a., and the salvation army. yet it is not too much to say that the baptists have first place in burma, both in church-membership and in education. we were the first christian denomination upon the ground; we have leavened the country with our influence; our mission press has furnished the bible in several different languages to the people of burma; our schools are the most advanced in grade and the most numerously attended; our churches are most nearly self-governing and self-supporting. we have great reason to thank god and take courage. all this is the growth of a single century. it was in the year that the judsons arrived in burma, and it was six years after that the first burman convert was baptized. in the first karen convert followed christ. these two were the first-fruits from the two leading races of burma. since their baptism there has sprung up a flourishing christian community which embraces representatives both of the indigenous races of burma and of the immigrant peoples from india proper, from china, and from other lands. the baptist churches in burma to-day, as their official representatives inform us, enroll members gathered from eighteen different nationalities, besides members of the anglo-indian or eurasian type. "the entire christian community in burma, according to the government census of , numbers , ; of which number, , are baptists, while , are roman catholics, , are anglicans, , are methodists, and the remainder are distributed among smaller sects. that one protestant convert of has become an army of one hundred and fifty thousand." we must add to this numerical statement the facts that a corps of christian leaders has been trained and put into service; that native christians have found their way into influential positions as magistrates, township officers, teachers of schools, inspectors of police, and clerks in all departments of the government. christian men are prominent in business and professional circles, as traders, contractors, brokers, physicians, lawyers; and the christian character is everywhere recognized and honored. a church, to a large degree self-propagating, has been planted in burma. a complete system of missionary education has been organized. modern philanthropic work for the relief and prevention of physical ills has been transplanted to burma. the sunday school, the christian endeavor society, the temperance movement, are common methods of karen and of burmese church activity. an extensive christian literature has been provided, in addition to the printing of the bible in all the main languages of the country. in fact, a home mission society, for the evangelization of the natives in the remoter sections of the country, is in active operation. when we remember that all this is the product of a hundred years, in a land where only a little while ago christianity was a persecuted religion, we praise god for the result. i must mention two features of my visit which claim special attention. i refer to the work of the collegiate and other schools, and to the hospitality of non-christian gentlemen. we have inaugurated in burma a graded system of education, under government inspection, and leading to full university training. nothing in my travels interested me more than to see hundreds of boys and girls of burmese and karen families, in which girls have hitherto been unable to read or write, singing christian hymns from books with the music and words before them. the great need of france, as the emperor napoleon once said, was good mothers. it is equally true of burma, and little children carry back into idolatrous homes their love for christ, and their juvenile protest against heathenism. i addressed several audiences of a thousand each, where the full half were girls and women, no longer secluded and ignorant, but prepared to assume responsibility as the mothers and trainers of a new race of burmans. in these schools, exclusive of the seminaries and bible schools, there are enrolled more than , pupils, who pay annual tuition fees of more than $ , . the morton lane school at maulmain, the eurasian school at the same place, the kemendine school in rangoon, the girls' school at mandalay, have each of them about three hundred scholars, and they are sending out influences which will in a few years revolutionize the civilization and the religion of burma. other schools of not so high a grade are doing equally faithful work. our baptist college at rangoon is caring for the higher grades of education, and is preparing hundreds of young men for teaching and for government service. it was inspiring to address a thousand of its scholars, under the direction of principal david gilmore, d. d., formerly of rochester. the endowment of such an institution in this heathen land would be an achievement worthy of some christian millionaire in america. and the same thing may be said for our burman theological seminary at insein under dr. john mcguire, and our karen theological seminary under dr. w. f. thomas. that walls of partition are breaking down under the influence of christianity, was made plain to us by invitations to take breakfast with a noted parsee barrister, and to take afternoon-tea with a wealthy mohammedan gentleman, both of them citizens of rangoon. the courtesy and intelligence of these hosts of ours will always be a delightful memory, while their novel and beautiful homes revealed to us what art and nature can do when united in other than christian surroundings. our parsee barrister had obtained his education largely in england, and the mohammedan gentleman had enjoyed intercourse with the best of our american missionaries. the moslem friend still maintained a sort of seclusion for his wife, and only the ladies of our party visited her in her private apartments. but when we rose to depart, he surprised us all by asking that we offer prayer, and he endorsed the prayer that was offered by uttering a hearty "amen." as we stood ready to go, it was easy to pray for a blessing upon the house and the family which we were leaving behind us. respect for christianity, and a conviction that christian education is the great need of the future, are already permeating the higher classes of burman society. the climax of our stay in burma was reached when lord chelmsford, the viceroy of india, visited rangoon, and the lieutenant governor invited us to an afternoon-tea in his honor. the pandal, or reception pavilion, erected at the dock where the viceroy landed and where he was received with a salute of thirty-one guns, had been filled that morning by the élite of burman society, fifteen hundred in number, and the address of welcome had drawn from the viceroy a fitting response. all rangoon was a wonder of decoration. arches with saracenic domes built by the moslems, pagodalike structures built by the buddhists, parsee towers, and hindu temples, appeared at many street-crossings, and one long avenue was lined on either side with elevated rows of benches upon which were seated thousands of children from the schools. the viceroy passed in triumphal procession between files of soldiery, with cavalry for a body-guard and a dense mass of humanity thronging the sidewalks, looking on and cheering. at night, the streets and public buildings were brilliantly illuminated, and the great pagodas glittered like gems from top to bottom, encircled with rings of electric lights. we reached the government house, the scene of the afternoon lawn-tea, through clouds of dust raised by four lines of vehicles that struggled for precedence. at last we emerged in the grounds before the stately edifice where the lieutenant governor resides, and we were presented to lord and lady chelmsford. the viceroy and his wife were simple and gracious in manner, and they made us feel that we were conferring as well as receiving honor. a group of forty dancing-girls, in antique burmese costumes, were giving a performance on one part of the emerald lawn, while on another white-robed servants were setting before the guests all manner of refreshments. so, amid music and feasting, the day ended. with the oncoming darkness the viceroy and his lady retired to their apartments in the great government residence, and at the same time the whole company joined in singing "god save the king!" it was a striking close to our experiences in burma, for fully half of the guests that day were hindus and mohammedans, each one of them arrayed in gorgeous garments and decorated with jewels. it left in our minds the fixed impression that the hold of great britain upon burma and indeed upon all india is largely due to the christian character of british rule, and that missionary work of evangelization and of education is to be given large credit for india's present universal loyalty to the british crown. this chapter would not be complete without special mention of the dinner of our rochester men. we number thirteen of them in burma, and they fill very important places in the work of missions. two are graduates of our university, but not of our seminary--mr. f. d. phinney, the superintendent of our mission press, and dr. david gilmore, the acting principal of our baptist college. with the wives who graced the company, seventeen persons sat down at table. singiser presided; mcguire gave us welcome; dudley, cochrane, rogers, hattersley, crawford, added spice to the occasion. the rewards of a teacher sometimes come late, but they are very sure. when i saw that gathering of missionary workers, and remembered geis, cope, and streeter, who were prevented from coming, i felt that my labor had not been in vain in the lord, since burma is being transformed by rochester. and i shall never forget a final reception given us at an afternoon-tea by dr. d. w. a. smith, the president emeritus of the karen theological seminary at insein, and by his estimable wife, to whom i had had the privilege of presenting a memorial album, on behalf of all the teachers and missionaries, on the occasion of her seventy-sixth birthday. doctor smith and mrs. smith are honored and beloved by all who know them. like myself, he has served the cause of theological education for forty years, and has now retired for partial rest. i am glad that my name can be in any way connected with his, for i am sure that his works will follow him. v mandalay and gauhati these two places are types of two different religions, the buddhist and the hindu. mandalay in burma is the representative of buddhism; gauhati in assam illustrates hinduism. the hill of mandalay is crowned by a pagoda so unique and splendid that it draws pilgrims from every part of burma; the hill at gauhati is similarly attractive in assam. i have thought that a description of the two, and of the worship at each of them, might serve to fix in memory the differences between these leading religions of the british empire in india. mandalay was the terminus of our third excursion into the more remote parts of burma. from rangoon as a center of operations, we went first to bassein, where our burman and our karen schools for boys and girls are beautifully located. bassein is one hundred and ninety-two miles west of rangoon. maulmain, our second object of interest and visitation, is one hundred and seventy-one miles distant from rangoon on the south and east. here our great missionary, adoniram judson, began his work, and here are two of our chief schools for girls. mandalay is farther removed from rangoon than are either bassein or maulmain. it lies three hundred and eighty-six miles to the north. it was a former capital of burma. it contains the palace of king thebaw, the foundations of which are reputed to have been laid upon human sacrifices, and from which the king was driven after a long and fierce british assault. ancient tradition decreed that only sacred edifices should be built of brick. thebaw's palace is therefore of wood, though it is gorgeous with carving and gilt. surrounded by a wide and deep moat, there is a walled enclosure of more than a mile square, whose gateways are picturesque in the extreme, and which to all but modern cannon would be an impregnable fortress. but it is the hill of mandalay that most excites the traveler's wonder and admiration. upon its summit, commanding a far-reaching view of the winding river and of endless paddy-fields, with mountains in the distance, stands a pagoda which is in many respects more remarkable than the great shwe dagon pagoda at rangoon. this one at mandalay might indeed be called four separate pagodas, on successive heights, and connected with one another by a straight stairway in part hewn out of the solid rock and in part built of masonry. the stairway consists of eight hundred and twenty-two steps, in four different series, each series leading to a broad open platform on which rises a separate temple with a colossal image of buddha in its center. from below, this long stairway, with its railing of brick or concrete and its quartet of gilded pagodas shining in the sun, is a picturesque and unique object. the crowning pagoda seems almost impossible of access. it is set upon such a height, however, for the purpose of making the ascent to the altar difficult, and so of adding to the "merit" of its worshipers. the stairway, even when cut in the rock, has often forty or fifty steps so narrow, that the ascent from platform to platform is actually precipitous. the entire series of steps, from the bottom of the hill to the top, is roofed over with sheets of corrugated iron, until the whole looks like a covered way to the clouds. going up seemed an exciting adventure. my physician had forbidden my climbing, and my wife declared that she could not attempt the walk. the problem became serious. the difficulty was removed by bringing from the missionary's house two solid teak-wood armchairs, to serve us after the sedan fashion. long poles of bamboo were lashed underneath them, and, after we had seated ourselves, eight men, four for each chair, lifted these poles, with their superimposed american pilgrims, upon their shoulders. then began a triumphal march, which at every step of the ascent threatened to become a funeral march. the bearers all had bare feet, feet twice as long as the steps were broad, so that they practically went upward on their toes. a single misstep would have caused disaster--nothing less than an avalanche of coolies, chairs, and pilgrims. but my secretary guarded me, the missionary guarded my wife, and we went up in safety. going upward some two hundred steps, we rested upon a platform with a pagoda which enshrined the statue of a buddha perhaps twenty feet in height and covered with gold-leaf from top to toe. any worshiper can prove his faith by clapping a bit of gold-leaf upon the statue. the result is that the hands and feet of buddha are thick with encrusted gold. he holds out his hands in seeming invitation. two hundred feet more brought us to a second platform and a second pagoda in which buddha also appears; but now he is in the attitude of teaching. still another ascent, and we come to a pagoda in which buddha stands, a towering form fifty feet in height, with his finger extended in expectation toward the plain. and a final ascent brings us to a colossal buddha, now reclining, as if his work were done and he were entering upon the bliss of nirvana. at this last stage there is also a series of waxwork figures which symbolize the vanity of life and of human desire. four forms represent, first, the babe at its mother's breast; secondly, the youth full of vigor; then the older man haggard with care; and finally, the corpse, upon whose vitals the birds of the air are preying. from the summit of this mandalay hill, another pagoda, almost as famous, is to be seen. i mean the kuthodaw, in the plain below. this is four hundred and fifty pagodas in one, all but one of them little edifices, each with a small sitting statue of buddha within it. an even more remarkable thing is that each of these diminutive pagodas has also within it a portion of the buddhist scriptures, engraved upon a solid block of stone, and all of these together make up the tripitaka, upon which the buddhist pins his faith. in the center of the grand enclosure stands a beautiful white pagoda, with wreaths of gold about its graceful spire. the long rows of little temples, with their attempt to preserve the holy book in an enduring form, are a monument to the faith of king thebaw's uncle who planned it. few people, however, read the writing upon the stones. for any practical result it is necessary to have the law of the lord written upon the tables of the heart. the descent from mandalay hill was even more hazardous than the ascent, for we were in continual danger of slipping from our chairs and knocking over the bearers. we were profoundly grateful when we reached the level ground again and found that we had survived. our experiences with buddhism were instructive. the saffron robes of the omnipresent priests and monks undoubtedly cover much laziness and much willingness to depend for a living upon others. but every burman boy expects to spend some time, though it may be only a week or a month, in a monastery. there he usually learns to read, though his main work is that of memorizing certain portions of the buddhist scriptures. so far as i have been able to learn, there are no positive immoralities connected with buddhistic worship. the example of buddha has in it some worthy elements, such as the renunciation of earthly and sensual ambitions. but buddhism, for all that, is a pessimistic religion. it denies to man the existence of a soul, and it gives him no hope for anything but practical extinction. buddha no longer lives to help his worshipers. in the struggle with sin, there is no atonement for the transgressions of the past, and no prospect of perfection in the future. hence the preaching of christ, crucified for our sins and ever present with his people, is to the buddhist a revelation so novel and so entrancing, that it captivates and transforms him. christianity humbles pride, but it saves the soul. it shows the impossibility of obtaining salvation by merit of our own, and our absolute dependence upon the grace of god. christianity awakens gratitude, and leads to unselfish devotion. it turns a saul into a paul, and makes him a missionary and a hero. gauhati is the present capital of assam, as mandalay was once the capital of burma. like burma, assam is overrun by hindus, who seek employment in the tea-plantations and in every other species of labor. these hindus have brought their religion with them, and in assam the animistic religions of the natives very commonly give way to the more poetic and philosophic faith of the hindus. in gauhati the hindus have established a temple which attracts thousands of pilgrim worshipers from all parts of assam and indeed of india, as the pagoda of mandalay attracts pilgrims from all parts of burma. the gauhati temple, like that at mandalay, is set upon a beautiful hill not far from the town, approached only by a long and stony climb, though with many a rest-house on the way. this temple and its worship so illustrate hinduism, that a slight account of its origin and beliefs seems to be necessary. the god siva had a goddess for a wife. displeased with her unfaithfulness, he seized her, and with her as his captive he flew through the air, and as he flew, he cut her in pieces. the middle portion of her body fell to the earth on this hill, and consecrated forever this spot near gauhati. in the temple and grove of this hill the goddess is worshiped by such rites as will please one of low and licentious tastes. in fact, the rites of this temple are said to be the most obscene of any in the british possessions. there are reputed to be a thousand "virgins," who subsist in and upon the temple. the extent to which they are virgins may be judged by the number of fatherless children clinging to their robes or carried about. these "virgins," as is well known, are "married to the god of the temple"--which may mean married either to the priests of the temple, or to the worshipers of the temple. i asked a missionary whether these "virgins," after their term of service, could contract an ordinary marriage. i was answered that the girls were "married to the temple for life." one of these unfortunate women led by the hand a beautiful little daughter. on being asked who the father was, the mother replied: "how should i know? i am a temple-woman." so the gratification of illicit passion becomes a religious act. the residents of gauhati are free to visit the temple, and so, alas! are the eight hundred students of the english college only two miles away. who can measure the corrupting influence of this temple upon the lives of the people over a wide area in assam? a student of the college, who was also a priest of the temple, met one of our party on his visit. this student-priest was a young man of more than ordinary intelligence. he endeavored to palliate the evil of the temple-worship, and to clothe its acts with spiritual significance. he pointed to the spot where goats and buffaloes were offered in sacrifice, and he claimed that this offering was made in expiation of sin. such an explanation of hindu sacrifices is altogether futile. the sense of guilt is so dull in hinduism, that sin is little more than external and physical impurity, and may be simply failure to conform to a prescribed act of ceremonial worship. the true meaning of sacrifice for sin has, in india, been derived solely from christian preaching. this particular student had many an opportunity to hear such preaching, and the knowledge of atonement which he tried to mix with his hindu theology was probably gained from missionary sources. it was an illustration of the incidental and indirect ways in which christian missions are permeating these oriental lands, and are forcing these old religions to adopt some of the fundamental ideas of christianity. these ideas are misunderstood and misstated, so that they become in large part forms of error. but notwithstanding, they may pave the way for a fuller knowledge of the truth, and for the entrance of christ into the heart and into the life. vi calcutta, darjeeling, and benares calcutta is the largest city of india. it numbers more than a million inhabitants, of whom , are hindus, , are mohammedans, and less than , are christians. the name of the city is derived from kali, the goddess-wife of siva, the destroyer; and her temple is one of the most filthy and disgusting in all india. in this temple i saw one of its many priestesses cutting into bits the flesh and entrails of a goat, which had been offered in sacrifice, in order that the poorest worshiper might have for his farthing something bloody to present at the altar. it was the altar of a fierce, cruel, and lustful goddess, whose black and ugly image could be dimly seen within the shrine. a stalwart priest followed me with hand outstretched for a contribution. it was a novel sensation to hear him utter, in excellent english and with seeming reverence, the words, "the great goddess kali," as if no one could doubt her power. it reminded me of "the great goddess diana," whom all asia and the whole world once worshiped, but whose temple is now an indistinguishable heap of ruins. the worship of a goddess so vengeful and sensual as kali throughout india, a worship both of lust and of fear, shows how ineradicable is the religious instinct, but how perverted it may become when existing apart from divine revelation. there is another temple in calcutta of a somewhat better sort. i refer to the temple of the jains, that mongrel sect which is partly a reformed hinduism, and partly a worship of buddha. its temple is a model of cleanliness and of oriental art. its decoration consists largely of inlaid glass of all the colors of the rainbow. walls, ceilings, and columns are fairly ablaze with tinted arabesques that reflect every ray of the sun. fountains and lawns and statues mingle their attractions. the effect is one of splendor and beauty. jainism is conservative hinduism, recurring to the ancestral worship of the vedas, exaggerating its doctrine of the sanctity of animal life, repudiating its later licentious developments, and taking in buddha, not as the supreme and sole teacher of religion, but as only one of its great saints and heroes. the real glory of calcutta is its relation to modern missions. here is the chapel in which william carey preached, and in which adoniram judson was baptized. its spacious construction evinces the faith and hope of its founders. but it is in serampore, which, though fourteen miles away, is almost a suburb of calcutta, that carey's work was done. how wonderful that work was! "a consecrated cobbler," he mastered the languages of the orient, and gave the bible to india in several of its tongues. he received from the british government large compensation for his services as interpreter and translator, but he gave back all the money he received, in order to support schools and missions. the noble college at serampore, with its hundreds of students, is his best memorial. his tomb in the cemetery witnesses to his humility of spirit. it stands at one corner of a triangle, with the tombs of marshman and of ward at the two remaining corners, but the only inscription he permitted to be engraved upon it is the two lines of the hymn, a wretched, lost, and helpless worm, on thy kind arms i fall. so he left his testimony to the need, and the power, of him who will ultimately demolish hindu temples and enthrone christ in india. from calcutta we traveled about three hundred and seventy miles northward to darjeeling. we wished to see the himalayas. a most tortuous narrow-gage railway lifted us gradually to a height of seven thousand feet. and there we had the unusual privilege of seeing the sunrise tipping with rosy light the snowy peak of kinchinjinga, twenty-eight thousand feet high and forty-six miles away. mt. everest, a hundred miles distant, is twenty-nine thousand feet high, but from darjeeling is invisible. kinchinjinga is nearly twice as high as mont blanc, and its glittering mass is a spectacle never to be forgotten. curiously enough, upon the summit of observatory hill, from which we gained our view, the immigrant tibetans had erected their shrine, and long, inscribed paper and muslin streamers, enclosing a large quadrangle, gave to the winds their prayers. no idol was to be seen. the worship seems to be far more spiritual than that of the hindus. nature seems to have taught that secluded race of tibetans a more primitive religion than modern hinduism. it is a religion mixed with buddhism, but preserving the earlier view of a divinity in natural objects, which hinduism has almost wholly outgrown. our next point of investigation was benares, "the holy city," the mecca and jerusalem of the hindus. it is a hotbed of heathen enthusiasm and of blinded devotion. the sacred river ganges flows by, with tier upon tier of temples rising from its steep banks--such a congestion of religious edifices that one might almost doubt whether they had left room for any but priests to live. every day, hundreds of pilgrims troop through its streets and throng these temples, presenting their flowers and their offerings, making their sacrifices, and listening submissively to the instructions and threatenings of the priests. every temple has its sacred animals, to be sacrificed or worshiped. the "golden temple," so-named, is covered with gold-leaf from its spire to its base. the noisy crowd in its corridors, the noisome odors of its sanctuaries, the adjurations of its priests and their evident aim to turn religion into financial gain, disgust the christian traveler, while they show him how deeply rooted in the human heart is this towering system of idolatry and superstition. but only the water-view of benares presents hinduism in its most characteristic aspect. it is the sacred river that makes sacred the town. this river is regarded as itself divine, for it had its source in the mouth of brahma. hence it is endowed with life-giving and purifying powers. it is bordered for a full mile by a grand succession of palaces and temples, of bathing ghats and of burning ghats. here the hindu, often after long pilgrimage, washes away his defilement and prepares himself to die. when death actually comes, his relatives wash his body in the holy stream. but the bathing ghat only makes ready for the burning ghat. these burning ghats are castle-like edifices, from which the smoke of burning flesh ascends continually. cremation, with the hindu, takes the place of burial. the ashes are collected and are preserved in a tomb. to die in benares, and to have a temple for a tomb, is the surest passport to happiness in a future state, since the transmigration of souls into higher or lower forms is an essential doctrine of modern hinduism. a wealthy resident of benares courteously offered us the use of his observation-boat to view the scene upon the river in the early morning. this river-craft was a double-decker, propelled by oars from the lower deck. from the upper platform, one could overlook the ceremonial washings of hundreds of pilgrims. stalwart men plunged themselves three times into the stream, looked toward the sun, joined their hands, spoke a prayer, rinsed their sacred cord, cleansed their raiment, and then, reclad, went to the priest on his platform, to be smeared with ashes on the forehead and marked with a little colored dot, as a certificate that they had correctly performed their vow. brahma, vishnu, and siva, had each his worshipers and his priests, to give the appropriate mark. the "holy man" was there, either upon his bed of spikes or in an attitude which suggested torture, and ready to receive the homage, and the money as well, of his benighted admirers. mothers were present, immersing not only themselves but also their children. all the bathers must drink of the muddy and fetid water, for purification internal is as needful as purification external. and so, hundreds of worshipers every day, and on special feast-days thousands, drink this water of the "sacred ganges," foul with the stains of disease and reeking with the sweat of the dead. it is no wonder that the burning ghats have no lack of business, and no wonder that medical experts have traced epidemics of cholera, smallpox, and plague, in western lands, to this city of benares, where "satan's seat is." the throne of the great adversary, however, seems to be built on very insufficient foundations, for not a few of the temples which line the steep banks of the river have toppled over, or have sunk into the yielding sand. their massive fragments, at the base of long stairways of stone, show how hideous is the ruin of any system of religion which is not founded upon christ, the rock. vii lucknow, agra, and delhi at last we are on mohammedan ground--at least on ground where mohammedanism has a powerful, and perhaps a controlling, influence. this northwest part of india was the scene of moslem conquest in the ninth century. mohammedans have always proudly contemned idolatry, and they have often been iconoclasts, as many headless hindu images can witness. northwest india saw the rise and the strength of the great mutiny of half a century ago, but it was moslem rajas and faithful moslem troops who helped to put it down. mohammedan faith in the unity and personality of god might at first sight seem to render its adherents more accessible than are hindus to the gospel of christ. as a matter of fact, however, the very elements of truth in their belief make them too often stout opponents of christianity. they are religious bigots, as the hindus are not. the hindu has a pantheon to which he can, with some show of consistency, invite christ. the mohammedan declares that there is but one god, and that mohammed is his prophet. so he denies christ's claim to be either god or saviour. lucknow was deeply interesting, for here was exhibited one of the most heroic and thrilling defenses ever made in history. more than two hundred women and children spent three months of agony in the cellars of the british residency, while husbands and fathers and friends, to the number of seventeen hundred, were exposed to the besieging force and the murderous fire of fifty thousand mutineers. the headquarters of the defenders were riddled with shot and shell, and the residency is now a ruin. but only one shot penetrated the retreat of the women and children below, and of these only one woman lost her life. crowded together in the heat of the summer, tormented by flies, half famished for lack of food, these brave women held out themselves and encouraged the protecting garrison, though of the seventeen hundred men only seven hundred at the end of the siege remained alive. sir henry lawrence died of a cannon-shot, exhorting his soldiers to the last man to die, rather than to surrender. we were glad to pay reverence to his bravery, by a visit to his tomb. although he died, the flag of england flew over the fortress, in spite of innumerable efforts of the enemy to bring it down. and to-day, in memory of that fact, it is the only flag in the british empire that is not lowered at sunset. the joy of the defenders and of those whom they defended may be imagined, when general havelock appeared in their relief, and the great mutiny was suppressed. that victory settled the prestige of the english in india. all classes now recognize the military strength as well as the judicial fairness of british rule. without it, india would be a country of warring races, for mohammedan and hindu even to-day live in slumbering jealousy of each other. this latent hostility, i am happy to say, shows some signs of wearing away. the desire for more of home-rule is bringing these two great races together in conventions, with a view to the discovery of some method of cooperation between them. parliamentary government in china and japan has had its effect in india, and britain will soon be compelled to admit her indian populations to a larger share in municipal and provincial administration. but democracy can be successful, only when conflicting classes find some basis for harmony. english missionary and educational institutions are doing much to reconcile hindus and mohammedans to one another, and this may prepare the way, not simply for free government, but also for the acceptance by both parties of a religion in which all their elements of truth are included, while their perversions of truth are sloughed off. by english educational and missionary institutions i mean much more than church of england schools and colleges. in lucknow we visited the isabella thoburn college, under american methodist control, and were greatly impressed by its noble equipment in the way of buildings and teachers. both boys and girls have here the opportunity of securing an education as high in grade as the sophomore years of our american colleges, and of preparing themselves for the advanced work of a great indian university. all this is under christian influences, and has its fruit in many a conversion to christ. martinière college is also nobly equipped and endowed, but it is solely for english boys, who are generally the sons of british officials in india. i cannot speak too highly of these means of education now furnished by all our great denominations, in all the cities of india. i could only wish that our baptist people at home might see how far christians of other names have often surpassed them in their gifts and preparations for the future of a country whose population is three times as large as our own. at lucknow we had the rare opportunity of seeing "the mango trick" performed by an expert juggler. he first showed us a jar, filled with innocent sand, so dry that it fell easily through his fingers as he lifted a handful. then he presented a dry mango seed, which he planted in the sand and watered. the jar was placed on the stone pavement of the hotel, not ten feet away from our eyes. he covered the jar with a little tent not two feet in diameter. after a few passes of the hand, the tent was lifted. the seed had already sprouted, and had become a twig with leaves. covering the plant once more, he called our attention to a cobra-charmer, who played harmlessly with a hooded and venomous snake. at last he threw the tent wholly aside, and there stood a fully developed little mango tree, perhaps two feet high. it seemed impossible that the folds of the tent, which had been shaken out at the beginning, could possibly have held it. the juggler's method was simplicity itself. if i had not previously seen in america a necromancer cut his wife's head off, and then put it on again so slick that she seemed to have received no injury, i might have begun to believe that this indian juggler had supernatural powers. to lucknow succeeded agra. the great wonder and prize of agra is, of course, the taj mahal. so we made our way to it before sunrise, and saw its exquisite columns and its white minarets in the rosy light of the earliest morning; then again, as the sun was setting, we saw its last rays fall upon the snow-white dome. as one looks upon the taj from the noble gateway through which one enters the enclosing park, he sees also its reflection in the long lines of water that lie between, and it seems a miracle of beauty. but when you reach the edifice itself, and perceive that its simplicity is combined with lavish richness of decoration, marble and precious stones being so woven together that they form one gorgeous and splendid whole, you can only admire the affection that planned this memorial to a beloved wife, and the art which has succeeded in constructing an edifice which, after six centuries, is still recognized as a wonder of the world. yet the moslem emperor who built it was deposed by his son, and then imprisoned not far away, the chief solace and recreation granted him being this, that from his prison-roof he could look out upon the taj mahal. the pearl mosque and the jasmine tower, the courts of public and of private audience, in the palace which the moslem emperor once occupied, are monuments of architecture so remarkable and so beautiful, that no description of mine can fairly represent the impression which they made upon me. they are surrounded and protected by the fort, an enclosure half a mile square, whose massive wall is itself a wonder. in the days when these structures were built, labor was cheap, for the monarch had only to impress and to feed his laborers. but artistic genius is always rare. the mohammedan conquest and sovereignty of the past produced and encouraged a flowering out of art, comparable to that of the days of cathedral-building in england, and of the time of pericles when sculpture and architecture so flourished in greece. in all the world there is nothing more elaborate or beautiful than the perforated marble of these oriental screens, and the intricate carving of these oriental pillars. the alhambra in spain has its superiors in india, both for splendor of color and for beauty of pattern. the arabesques of these oriental mosques exhibit powers of invention of the highest order. it has been well said that their architects "designed like titans, and finished like jewelers." both the throne of the mogul emperor akbar and his tomb in agra are proofs that even the grain of truth in mohammedanism can awaken intelligence and enthusiasm in those who receive it, and that, in the conflict with idol systems, it has power to conquer the world. an account of our visit to delhi may well complete my summary of mohammedan influences in india. delhi was the capital of india long before akbar reigned and the lofty tower of the kutab minar was built. but hindu influence has combined with mohammedan in leading the british to restore delhi to its former position as the center of governmental authority. tradition has handed down a prediction that making delhi its capital marked the end of each power that asserted itself. hence there have been many delhis, as there have been many ancient romes, and this present delhi must be succeeded by a new delhi which british authority and resources will build. the new delhi will be the ninth, as the present delhi is the eighth, of the long series. ruins of the earlier delhis are about it on every side. now, at last, a great tract of land has been appropriated for the new seat of government which will rise from the dust. temporary buildings have been erected. the permanent ones will soon follow. we may be sure that they will be splendid and suited to modern tastes, while they still preserve the characteristic features of indian architecture. by making this new delhi the british capital of india, it is sought to impress the oriental mind with britain's claims to be supreme, while at the same time the old traditional prediction is evaded. let us hope that the device will accomplish its purpose. the prosperity of india is bound up with the recognition by all races and parties of england's right to rule. i would not justify all the steps by which britain has gained her power, nor would i ignore certain defects of her later administration. but there is no question as to the general justice of british rule, nor as to the fact that, without it, india's warring races and religions would now be the ruin of all peace and progress. when we remember that in this land of former famines the population has increased since by one hundred millions; that forty-six thousand miles of canals have been dug for irrigation, and more than twenty-two million acres have thereby been reclaimed; that trade has increased in the last half-century from three hundred millions to fourteen hundred millions; that the value of land is now larger by fifteen hundred millions than it was fifty years ago; that there are now thirty-two thousand miles of railway in operation and seventy-six thousand miles of telegraph; that the indian post office now handles nine hundred millions of letters, newspapers, and other matter every year; we may well doubt whether any conquest of history has brought about so great or so beneficent results as have followed what we must regard as england's commercial absorption of india. there are doubtless seditious and anarchistic elements in the indian populations which need to be kept under and subdued. let us remember that only one-tenth part of the men, and only one-hundredth part of the women, know how to read. there is a vast proletarian mass, ignorant and inflammable, ready to follow leaders of better education, but less principle, than themselves. this mass the british government has failed to educate, so that, while ninety per cent of the people in japan can read, in india only one-tenth as many can read. one of the greatest mistakes of english administration has been its beginning of education at the top, instead of at the bottom. it has established universities, but not elementary schools. the excuse, of course, has been, that differences of caste and of religion have made it impossible to put hindu children and mohammedan children, brahman children and sudra children, together, in the same schools. and yet, in the universities, pupils of all these various classes sit side by side, and some plan, it would seem, might have been devised to apply the same rule, so as to secure universal and compulsory elementary education. the higher education, taken alone, has its dangers; it is sought only by people of means and intelligence; many seek it from no love of learning, but only in order to prepare themselves for government offices. but there are not enough offices to go round. the disappointed men will not work with their hands; they find their avocation in the plotting of sedition. it is the high-caste educated brahmans who have edited the malcontent periodicals, and have organized the revolutionary conspiracies, which have of late bred so much trouble for the government in india. i rejoice therefore in the rise of factories, and in the new emphasis that is being laid on industrial education. these will do much to develop the resources of india. but what is most needed is the spirit of peace and justice; this is furnished by the gospel of christ. i therefore believe that the gospel is the only real guaranty to india of its political as well as its religious welfare. the friday prayer-service in the great mosque of delhi was a striking spectacle. the open court in front of the mosque is four hundred and fifty feet square, surrounded by a cloister, and paved with granite inlaid with marble. three or four thousand worshipers, in parallel rows, stretched from side to side of the great enclosure. at the summons of the mollah, or officiating priest, all these worshipers, in perfect unison, prostrated themselves with folded hands, and repeated in a loud voice, "god is great." each devotee had previously purified himself, by cleansing his mouth and hands and feet in the open tank in the center of the great esplanade. inasmuch as the delhi mosque is the largest and most splendid east of cairo, the entire spectacle was most impressive. if turkey had not joined a christian power by her alliance with germany, mohammedans throughout the world might have taken germany's side against the allies, and might have threatened the peace of india. that danger is now providentially averted. the moslem rulers have held fast to their allegiance to the british crown. this city of delhi, with the schools of the methodists, the anglicans, and the english baptists, is permeated with religious influences that attract its native populations, and these influences are continually lessening the prospect of any future rebellion such as the mutiny of fifty years ago. viii jaipur, mt. abu, and ahmedabad india, as is well known, is a part of the british empire, and is under the sway of the british government. yet, for administrative purposes, it is divided into presidencies, provinces, and native states. the presidencies and provinces are wholly administered by british officials. the native states are administered by rajas and other indian rulers, with the presence in each capital of a resident officer who represents the british government and who is accessible for consultation in case of necessity. the relations between the rajas and the residents are friendly, and only the gravest matters are referred to the representative of the crown. all other affairs are cared for by the native ruler, who is attended by a distinguished suite and who maintains quite a royal court. this species of self-government is the reward, granted by the british government after the mutiny of , to the rulers of the native states, who remained faithful to british interests and assisted in the suppression of the great rebellion. the government of these native rulers is in general worthy of praise. many of them are progressive men; they have traveled abroad; they have been affected by western thought; they have introduced modern reforms and systems of education, to the great benefit of their subjects. in this present hour of crisis, the majority of them have been loyal to the british government, and have contributed men and means for the cause of the allies. it was interesting in our journey across india to traverse several of these native states; and it was difficult to observe any difference between these sections and the portions of the empire officered solely by the british. we saw no british soldiers, but only native troops. there was less of english language and custom prevalent. the hindu, mohammedan, and jain seemed to have things very much to themselves. they, after all, are the real india, the hereditary india, while at the same time they are feeling the influence of modern railways and modern commerce. jaipur, which is the capital of a native state, was especially interesting. it has been called "the pink city," either because the maharaja owns all the property on the business streets and himself sees that every building is painted of a pink color, or because he compels every private owner to conform to his fixed rules of construction and decoration. at any rate, the wide streets of jaipur are laid out like those of the homeland, and are lined with pink structures of only one type of architecture and only one type of ornamentation. even paris can present no better illustration of the value of supervision in building. there are no sky-scrapers. there are long rows of shops and residences, with arcades in front of them, and with many variations in plan and decoration, while at the same time one tone of pink, together with the sky-line and the arcade-line is preserved without important change; the oriental type of building is preserved; and there is a uniform style of architecture from one end of the street to the other. no city in the world so well illustrates mrs. humphrey ward's quotation of the poet's words, a rose-red city, half as old as time. it is not the city of jaipur, however, which merits our chief attention, though the maharaja's town-palace and his quaint astronomical observatory are both of them deeply interesting. this observatory has no tower and no telescope. it shows what can be done by sun-dials and structures almost level with the ground to mark the movements of the heavenly bodies, and thus demonstrates that primitive stargazers might even thus early acquire a very considerable knowledge of astronomy. the scientific and literary tastes of this oriental monarch are also indicated by a noble public library of his own foundation, which contains a priceless collection of books and manuscripts in all the languages of the east. but it is amber that constitutes the chief attraction of a visit to jaipur. amber is the original metropolis and the ancient seat of government, five miles distant from the present jaipur, and even now the summer residence of the maharaja, though the old city which once lay around the rocky fortress has become a waste of ruin. the palace at amber is situated on a hilltop several hundred feet above the level of the plain, and commanding magnificent views of the surrounding country. next to the sight of river or sea from a mountain summit, the view of broad and level plains stretching far away is most beautiful, and such a view the indian ruler secured when he built his summer residence upon this eminence. we came expecting to find india hot, but we have found the northern part of india very cool. so it was reviving and refreshing to take the drive from jaipur to amber in an automobile, over a noble roadway with slightly ascending grade and skirting an originally splendid palace, once in the center of an island, but now in the bed of a dried-up lake. when we left the motor-car at the final lofty hill, the deserted city of amber towered above us. how should we reach that threatening height? three gorgeously caparisoned elephants solicited our patronage for the ascent. but before making that ascent, there was another ascent to make. we had to ascend the elephants. ladders were brought to our assistance, and up the ladders we climbed to the howdah, or square seat on the top of the bulky beasts. each elephant had to carry two passengers. i, on one side of the animal that bore me, had my weight balanced by that of my courier, who rode on the other side. each of us was compelled to let his legs dangle over the edge of the howdah. all went well until the elephant came to the narrow part of the road. there he evinced a vicious propensity to plant his feet close to the edge of the precipice. there was indeed a railing beneath me, but, clinging as i was somewhat convulsively to my slippery seat, the railing was invisible. so i seemed to myself at times to be hanging over the abyss. if i slipped from my seat, i might fall four hundred feet. it was not a pleasing situation. but the elephant knew his business. he trod the path in perfect confidence. and so, in royal state, though in mind tremendously afloat, we made the long and steep climb, until we reached the palace of the king. the maharaja, however, was not at home that day to receive us. he is a hindu devotee, and at the time of our visit he was making a pilgrimage to benares, the sacred city. the first thing we saw, when we entered the court of his excellency, was the spot where every morning a bullock or a goat is sacrificed as an offering to his heathen god. still, "every prospect pleases." the views of mountain and plain from this elevation among the hills are so beautiful that one can only admire the taste of the prince who made this his chosen dwelling-place. and the palace itself is a fascinating study in art and architecture. long corridors are turned into cloisters arched and shaded from the sun. tanks of water, with fountains playing in the center, provide refreshing baths. halls of public and of private audience are gorgeous with crimson and gold. temples for worship are added, both for daily devotion and for great state occasions. in short, here are all the appurtenances of an oriental court, combined with private luxury and seclusion. while the multitudes must toil and suffer in the plains below, the maharaja may rest and enjoy himself in his hilltop palace. i would not, however, imply that this particular monarch is not in many respects a large-minded and liberal man. the many evidences of his taste and public spirit in jaipur rectify any wrong impressions one might gain from a visit to amber. the next day we reached a station called abu road, four hundred miles to the south of delhi, and about half-way to bombay. true to its name, abu road furnished us the road to abu mountain. again we proceeded by motor-car, that great annihilator of distance in a foreign land. this road, in its gradual ascent, is a noble piece of engineering. it is exceedingly tortuous, for it follows the contour of the mountain in marvelously skilful curves. all the way for two hours, and covering an ascent of four thousand five hundred feet, there are enchanting views. tropical birds and trees were on every hand, together with cactus of many varieties; green and red parrots screamed through the air; peacocks spread themselves in the sun; and monkeys scampered across our path. one of the spurs of mt. abu is called dilwarra. it is the seat of the chief temple in india of the jains, that hindu sect which claims to have preserved the ancient religion of the vedas, and to have kept it true to the ancestral faith. as i have before remarked, the jains aim to escape the possible miseries of transmigration, and to attain the bliss of nirvana, even in the present life. jainism, like every other heathen system, is an effort to earn salvation by labors and sacrifices of one's own. its works of righteousness, however, are often uncalled-for exaggerations of natural virtues, such as counting sacred all forms of animal and vegetable life. the most devoted of the sect wear a cloth over their mouths, lest they should destroy an insect by swallowing it. to found hospitals for the care of parrots and monkeys is one of the most approved works of merit. so also it is a work of merit to build a temple or to endow it. jain temples are full of images, and the chief object of worship is honored by their multiplication. buddha is recognized as one of the divine incarnations, and in some sense buddha is worshiped. but it must be remembered that even in jainism buddha is only a memory. he has entered into nirvana, and has passed out of conscious existence. now that he has attained that state of passivity, he has no eye to pity and no arm to save. and yet in this jain temple images of buddha are worshiped, and these images are numbered by the hundreds. all this aberration from the truth does not prevent the temple from being almost a miracle of art. there is a scrupulous cleanliness about it which differences it from other heathen temples, like that of kali. in the jain temples there are no animal sacrifices, for all animal life is sacred. but there are little houses for feeding the birds; larger houses for feeding the beasts; and tombs for departed saints and teachers. and let it be specially borne in mind that in all the world there are no more splendid examples of arches, domes, and shrines, decorated with elaborate and intricate carvings, than are found here in dilwarra. its arabesques of perforated white marble an inch and a half thick are like lace-work in their delicacy and beauty. invention could go no farther in devising an infinite variety of geometric traceries. we in the west have much to learn from the artistic genius and labor of the east. another day's ride, or rather, another night's ride, brought us to a city of a very different sort from jaipur, and to a very different environment from that of mt. abu. it brought us to the busy metropolis of ahmedabad. here is also a city in a state under a native ruler, but a city so prosperous that native rule is seen to be by no means slovenly or indolent. on the way from the station i counted eighteen lofty chimneys belonging to manufacturing establishments. there are eighty factories in this busy center, chiefly connected with the cotton industry. in this industrial expansion is revealed the solution of many of india's financial problems. the population is now too exclusively employed in agriculture, and its manufactured articles are imported. but the rains are so uncertain that the farmer's subsistence is precarious, and famines claim thousands of victims. hence, next to christianity, india needs industrial development. this has been the view of recent british governors. better methods of irrigation and of cultivation have been supplemented by the introduction of new instruments of manufacture. both english and american machines now do much of the work that was formerly done by hand, and in the cities there is growing up a new manufacturing population. industrial missions are a great blessing to india, and our religious denominations have shown their practical sense by entering upon this sort of work. when a native becomes a convert to christianity, he is often thrown out of caste by his family, and out of labor by his employers. he must support himself; he must find something to do. but he is friendless and helpless, unless he can find friendship and help in the mission where he has been converted. it is necessary to secure employment for him, if he is not to become an encumbrance to the mission and to himself. hence i welcome all gifts for industrial missions that will teach men new methods of obtaining a livelihood. india, as i have said, has a vast agricultural population, now scantily subsisting and subject to occasional famines. multitudes who are now idle might be usefully employed. the change now going on in our southern states might well go on in southern india, and i welcome the sight of the factory chimneys of ahmedabad. ahmedabad is not yet converted to christianity. it is a celebrated stronghold of jainism, and here is another most splendid temple. it was instructive to see the little houses on poles for the care of birds, and for the feeding of lazy monkeys, while the poor and sick of human kind in the neighborhood begged in vain for help. the jain temples are noted in all india for their beauty. carving and gilding can go no farther than they have gone in the decoration of this shrine in ahmedabad. but the troop of monkeys that came to us in the park to be fed, seemed to us quite as sensitive to human needs as were the holy men who sat about that temple of the jains, for these latter devotees use god's gifts not rationally, but for inferior ends, and especially for their own interest and comfort. ahmedabad is an example, not of the worst, but still of a misplaced, religious zeal that has lost its bearings because it has lost its god. ix bombay, kedgaon, and madras bombay is a great city, the second, in population, of the british empire in india. while calcutta has over a million people, bombay comes only a few short of that number. its commerce is immense; its public buildings are fashioned after european models; its streets are broad and finely paved; there is every evidence of wealth and cultivation. but hindus greatly outnumber mohammedans; parsees are strong; christians are active, but still comparatively few. in thought and customs, bombay is still essentially oriental, while yet profoundly influenced by modern newspapers and modern inventions. it was a memorable change for us travelers to emerge from its taj mahal palace hotel, and then to find ourselves, first in its caves of elephanta, and secondly, in its towers of silence. a word of explanation is necessary for each of these notable objects of interest. elephanta is a little island eight miles from bombay, and so named because of its general resemblance in shape to an elephant. elephanta island forms a beautiful object as seen from the deck of the little steamer that serves for a ferry, and the views from the summit of elephanta hill, over the bombay bay, with the gleaming towers of the green city in the distance, are very charming. the island is a great resort, however, not so much for the views therefrom, as because it is the seat of a rock-hewn temple excavated centuries ago in honor of siva, the hindu god, whose province it is to destroy. brahma is the creator; vishnu, the preserver; and siva, the destroyer. siva was the god of reproduction, however, as well as the god who destroys, and his worship has been often connected with obscene and lascivious rites. the approach to siva's temple is through a lovely garden, in which are many splendid specimens of tropical vegetation. at last there appears to the visitor, in the side of the precipitous hill, a massive portico, with four immense pillars, all hewn out of the solid rock. then come long rows of similar columns leading darkly like a cathedral nave into the stony hill, and terminating at the altar, above which towers the statue of siva, colossal in size, with parvati, his goddess wife, by his side, and all the emblems of his authority, as scepter and sword, around him. the statue seems to express the joy of sovereignty, and, though somewhat mutilated, it is noticeably free from the immoral suggestions which have been intimated in many descriptions of it. entrance to the statue is flanked by great guardian statues, and the whole chancel, so to speak, is enclosed by a broad and lofty corridor, in the manner of cathedral architecture. from this corridor on either side, many nooks in the rock have been excavated, like chantry chapels, each with its separate statue at least twenty feet in height. the whole hindu pantheon, seems to be represented by carved figures, but all cluster about the god siva. the really characteristic and indispensable feature of these caves is, however, still to be mentioned. it is the image of the lingam, or phallus, gigantic in size, and carven out of solid stone, in the innermost shrine, where it is the object of hysterical or lustful worship. every year, on an appointed feast-day, three or four thousand people throng to this shrine, some to pray for offspring, others to seek license for illicit pleasure. elephanta has become in this way the symbol and propagator of a debasing superstition. such worship is only a deification of the lower instincts of human nature. returning to bombay, it was natural to think of the towers of silence, for these too are located on a lovely eminence, called the malabar hill, and overlooking the city and the bay. these towers are enclosures in which the parsees, a most intelligent, wealthy, and influential sect, dispose of the bodies of their dead, by laying the forms in the open air where they can be devoured by vultures. the towers themselves are at least half a dozen in number, and they vary in size. but the style of their construction is uniform. inside of a lofty circular wall are concentric beds of stone, each with its groove in which a corpse can be laid. there are three concentric circles, the outermost for men, the next inner for women, the innermost for children. the structure has no roof, but is open to the air. great flocks of vultures perch upon the top of the outermost enclosing wall, waiting in silence and expectation for the time when they can descend upon their prey. only a half-hour elapses after a body is laid on its stony bed, before these ravenous birds have torn every morsel of flesh from its bones. the skeleton is then left to disintegrate by the action of the elements, until the rains wash the remaining dust into a great pit at the center of the circles, from which receptacle the refuse is conducted away by drains during the rainy season, to mingle with the surrounding earth. this is the parsees' "ashes to ashes, dust to dust." they glory in this method of disposing of their dead, and they think it far more natural and impressive than the common hindu method of cremation. we must grant that all methods of disposing of the dead are painful. but faith in a resurrection of the body is surely most in consonance with our time-honored custom of laying our dead away in their kindred earth, "until the day dawns, and the shadows flee away." from bombay to the town of kedgaon may seem to some a descent from great to small. not so; it is rather an ascent from the false to the true, from the impure to the pure, from the illusory to the real. for kedgaon is the home, and center of the work, of pundita ramabai, perhaps the most learned, and certainly the most influential christian woman in india. the very name pundita is given only to those of high intellectual attainments. a hindu of the highest, that is the brahman, caste, she was many years ago converted to christianity, and she has devoted all her powers to the education and uplifting of her countrywomen. her father was a great sanskrit scholar. he was one of the first in india to determine that his daughter should be a learned woman. accordingly she was thoroughly instructed. she knew by heart the sacred scriptures of her people long before she became a christian. she could repeat from memory an amount of them equal to that of our whole english bible. it is especially the improvement of the condition of women, and particularly of child-widows, to which she has devoted her attention. the condition of the child-widow in india is most pitiable. she is held responsible for the death of her husband, no matter how young she may be. she is subjected to indignities. her hair is entirely shaven from her head. her jewels are taken from her. her bright clothing is taken away, and she is clad in the coarsest garments. she becomes the slave of the family; virtually an outcast; frequently a prostitute. she can never remarry, no matter how young she may be at the beginning of her widowhood. it was to ameliorate this condition of affairs that pundita ramabai set herself many years ago. she gathered child-widows under her protection, surrounded them with christian influences, and gave them a christian education. a time of famine threw upon her care in one year twenty-four hundred girls, who depended upon her alone for food to keep them from starving. that time of great distress is now past, but when we remember that in india there are estimated to be as many as two millions of child-widows, it will be clear that the need of a refuge for such is still immensely great. girls of the highest caste are in the greatest need, for among the lower classes the reproach of child-widowhood is not so strongly felt. it was the sorrows of girls belonging to her own brahman caste, married perhaps at the age of eight or ten to husbands five times their own age, and then made practically outcasts by those husbands' death, that most touched the heart of ramabai. it is wonderful what she has already accomplished. we found on her extensive premises a great assembly-room which has sheltered at one time twenty-six hundred auditors; schools of every grade for hindu girls, including a school for the blind; a large and commodious hospital; a printing office with presses capable of turning out a high order of typography; an asylum for lepers; a rescue-home for unfortunate girls; normal classes for teachers and for nurses; training in sewing, embroidery, and weaving; and many another sort of christian service, including the work of the factory and the farm. every species of cooking on the premises, and all the care of the rooms and houses, is done by the girls themselves, so that all of them are taught how to support themselves when they leave the institution. three hours a day for industrial work, and three hours a day for schooling, is the uniform rule. one can imagine the far-reaching influence of this institution, if he remembers that out of the twenty-four hundred scholars who were received and taught in that dreadful time of famine, more than fifteen hundred were child-widows and many of them of the highest caste. ramabai is a great scholar. she has translated and printed the whole new testament, in the colloquial mahrati dialect, for the benefit of the poor women in her district. she is now engaged upon the psalms and the book of genesis, with the hope of finishing the whole old testament. numberless tracts of her composition have gone out into all parts of india. her graduates become not only teachers, but also evangelists. no one can measure the extent of her present influence, as showing what a native woman in india can do, in the way of breaking down caste, overthrowing pernicious customs, and demonstrating to a benighted heathen world the superior claims of christian truth. we left ramabai, invoking a blessing upon her head and upon manorama, her daughter, who bids fair to prove her worthy successor. ramabai, by her intellectual gifts, her executive ability, and above all by her christian devotion, deserves honor from all lovers of christ and his gospel. as we neared madras, the third largest city of india, the heat began to oppress us. up to this time india had been unexpectedly and refreshingly cool, at night even cold. but now it was unpleasantly warm. the heat reminded us of the conundrum: "why is india, although so hot, the coldest country on the globe?" answer: "because the hottest thing in it is chilly" ("chili" is the peppery sauce which the natives mix with other spices to form "curry"). we have learned to like curry. i cannot understand it; but if seems as if the hottest countries needed the hottest kinds of food. at any rate we had a warm welcome in madras, thirteen degrees in latitude above the equator. we were fortunate in reaching this fine city during the session of all our baptist missionaries in the south india, or telugu, field--that field which a few years ago witnessed the baptism of , converts in one day. it was a remarkable illustration of the family and tribal spirit in india. we baptists believe in individual conversions, and we seek evidence, in every case, of regeneration by the holy spirit. but the coherence of the family and the village is so strong in a heathen community, that the lot of the individual christian is often exceedingly hard. occasionally there is apostasy. the resistance of an important man to the gospel makes the persistence of his dependents in the gospel-way almost impossible. in some quarters, however, whole families and whole clans have been blessedly converted, and idolatry has been completely eradicated. in other cases where mass movements have taken place, certain missionaries have found it physically impossible to sift out each doubtful individual, and for safety have demanded that the whole family or clan or village shall give up idolatry before any single individual convert has been received for church-membership. to combine strict faith and practice, according to the new testament standard, with a proper respect for local customs and traditions, demands great wisdom in our missionaries, and makes their conferences very practical and very necessary. certain it is that in our baptist missions abroad greater care is exercised in receiving members than that to which we are accustomed in the homeland. the missionary cannot afford to have false disciples in the flock, if he knows it, for "one sinner destroyeth much good." new year's day at madras was full of interest. lady pentland, wife of the governor of the madras presidency, invited us to a new year's garden-party. an open-air gathering of any sort on the first day of january would have been a novelty to us, but this one found the atmosphere so balmy and the vegetation so green, that such a party was a positive delight. the avenues of approach to the governor's residence were lined with the body-guard of his excellency, stationed in twos along the way, and clad in scarlet the reception took place under a wide-spreading tree, on a spacious lawn. there were as many as a thousand guests. it was a gay and beautiful scene. hindu and moslem, parsee and christian, all met together. it was an exhibition of loyalty to the british crown, as well as a proof that just government may yet weld all india's classes and castes together. lord pentland spoke to us most pleasantly of certain members of his family whom we had met in america, and lady pentland showed herself to be a charming hostess. but a reception still more charming to us was the reception which the rochester men gave us that same new year's night, at the bungalow of doctor ferguson, close to the day memorial chapel, where the sessions of the conference were held. at least ten of our graduates sat down to supper, together with their wives. subsequently, from adjoining rooms, other members of the conference came in to the new year's reception, which is an annual affair. the united states consul dropped in, with a few other guests, until the total number could not have been far from eighty. it was like a family gathering. when i remembered that the telugu mission was once called "the lone-star mission," and was in danger of being given up, and when i noted that it now numbers one hundred and sixty-eight churches and a church-membership of more than seventy thousand, i could but say, "what hath god wrought!" x the telugu mission madras is the greatest city of south india, and ranks next to calcutta and bombay in thrift and importance. tamil and telugu are the two languages of the extensive madras presidency, the former prevailing most to the south, the latter to the north. they are cognate tongues, and both are derived from the sanskrit. our american congregationalists have done most for the tamils; we baptists have done most for the telugus. the telugus number twenty-six millions. though madras is near their southern border, it is the best starting-point for our description. next to our mission in burma, the telugu mission has been most blessed by god. the famine of was followed by a wonderful revival, in which a nation seemed to be born in a day. the people accepted christ by the thousands, and twenty-two hundred were at one time baptized. evangelization has been followed by education. while our organized telugu churches number , and our church-members , , we have schools of all grades, and , pupils under instruction. the needs of the body have been cared for, as well as the needs of the soul, for there are fourteen hospitals and dispensaries, ministering to , patients. in such a mass movement as that among the telugus, it was inevitable that the organization of the converts into distinct, self-governing, self-supporting, and self-propagating churches should be a gradual process and should require time. the poverty of the people was an obstacle to self-support. but christian teaching has made them models of liberality, and it was touching to see the church-members come forward at the close of the sunday morning service with their thank-offerings. in fact, these telugu churches, in the support of their native ministry, are in large measure independent of foreign financial aid. it is certain that, so long as religion is an exotic, its existence will be precarious. the plant in the pot needs, for permanence, to become a tree rooted in the soil. self-government is as necessary as self-support, and self-propagation is equally important, if the christianity of the native is ever to become indigenous. these aims have been dominant in recent years, and we have been permitted to witness scenes which demonstrate the power of god to make multitudes of people, of the lowest class, intelligent, liberal, and aggressive christians. i must take four separate stations as illustrations of my thesis. fortunately, all of these stations are now under the administration of rochester men, whom i am proud to recognize as my former pupils. but before i proceed to describe our experiences with them, i must to some extent repeat what i have said in my last letter about madras and the conference there at the house of doctor ferguson. because madras is the greatest city of south india, it is the natural source of supplies and the easiest place of gathering for our telugu missionaries, even though most of them live and work much farther to the north. the principle of home rule requires such gathering, and the missionary at madras, without seeking it, naturally becomes a sort of secretary and treasurer and entertainer of the whole body of telugu workers. no one could be better adapted to this position of responsibility than is doctor ferguson. his abounding hospitality and his command of the whole situation make him sought as a counselor and as a leader. as the older men, like clough and downie, pass away, doctor ferguson, by common consent, forges to the front. the present prosperity and harmony of the telugu mission are largely due to his unassuming and welcome influence. he too is a man whose scholarship and character reflect honor upon the rochester theological seminary, where he sat under my instruction twenty-two years ago. coming now to our stations north of madras, i begin with the theological seminary at ramapatnam, in charge of the rev. dr. jacob heinrichs. its students met us at the entrance of the mission compound, and we passed under an arch over which were inscribed the words, "welcome to dr. and mrs. strong." we had garlands of flowers thrown about our necks, and we were sprinkled with eau de cologne. in the large assembly-room of the seminary, we listened to addresses in excellent english from pupils of the higher grades, and we made responses in the same language, which were interpreted to the scholars of the lower classes by the pastor of the village church. a beautiful casket of carved ivory and pearl was presented to us, containing engrossed copies of the addresses delivered by the students. there was singing of hymns, both in english and in telugu, by choir and congregation. the beauty of it all was its spontaneity and naturalness, for the pupils themselves had planned and executed the whole program. instruction in this seminary is largely biblical. preachers are prepared for their work by being grounded in the life of christ and the life of paul. the text-books have been written by doctor heinrichs himself, and they are so well adapted to their purpose that they have been extensively used by seminaries of other denominations than the baptist. a native christian literature has been created for the telugus, beginning with the bible, but now embracing church history, theology, ethics, and something of modern science. it must not be thought that the teaching is exclusively religious. our seminary, and all our schools of lower grade, are affiliated with the government system of education, and in all their lower grades are subject to government inspection. so far as they conform to government standards of thoroughness, they receive government grants of financial aid. british india is impartial--aid is also given to hindu and to mohammedan schools. but christian schools can well stand competition with these other systems, for the methods of our christian schools are more modern and more rational. we left ramapatnam, convinced that india is receiving from the work of doctor heinrichs an inestimable blessing. through a long series of years he has been training preachers and teachers for this whole telugu land, and much fruit is appearing in a new type of new testament pastors and evangelists. ongole, one hundred and eighty-one miles north of madras, was the scene of the great revival. here too we were received most royally. a crowd of church-members waited for us at the railway station and flocked round our carriage as we passed to the mission compound. on the way, a company of telugu athletes entertained us at intervals by their feats of ground and lofty tumbling. it was their native way of welcoming distinguished guests. dr. james m. baker has ably succeeded dr. j. e. clough in the work of administering and organizing this important field. the ongole church of twelve thousand members, with its connected schools, is enough to tax the resources of the ablest man. the new clough memorial hospital had its beginning while we were in ongole, in the laying of the corner-stone of a gateway in honor of dr. s. f. smith, who wrote, "shine on, lone star," as well as "my country, 'tis of thee." mrs. strong, with a silver trowel, made its foundation sure, while the english deputy collector for the district represented the government, and i had the privilege of making an address to a great mixed audience of hindus and mohammedans as well as christians. our most thrilling experience in connection with ongole i am yet to relate. we wished to see the heart of india, as we had seen the heart of china and the heart of burma. we could do this only by taking part in one of doctor baker's country tours. every year he takes advantage of the favorable weather centering about mid-winter, to spend two solid months in visiting the villages which throng these fertile plains. with tent and equipment for cooking, he penetrates these swarming heathen communities and carries to them the gospel of christ. it was over some fearful roads that our two-pony, two-seated buggy enabled us to accompany him. government roads are one thing; native roads are quite another. sudden descents to fordable streams and sudden ascents to the opposite banks are succeeded by long stretches of passage through cultivated fields, where there appears no sign of road at all. at last we reached the village of naletur. under the shadow of a great tree we found at least a thousand people assembled, sitting on the ground bordered by a broad fringe of men and women standing on the outside, and supplemented by a score of half-naked zaccheus-like hearers perched in the branches of the trees. mrs. baker, awaiting the coming of her husband and his guests, had been holding this motley audience for two hours with selections from the gramophone, with illustrated scripture lessons and pictures from the life of christ, and by calling on her "band" for "music" with a big drum, castanets, cymbals, and various other instruments of indian manipulation. salvation army methods have great influence over a childlike people, and mrs. baker would make, in case of necessity, a first-class salvation army lassie. in fact, no act of missionary humility has struck our eyes as more pathetic and true, than that of mrs. baker, beating a big drum to the time of native music, in order to hold an audience for the hearing of the gospel. the amphitheater of dusky faces, massed together and intently listening, with christians on one side and heathen on the other, seemed like a reproduction of the days "when jesus was here among men," and a prophecy of the great final day when our lord, the judge, will separate the sheep from the goats. that evening we left the grove and entered the village with fife and drum, attracting auditors, and held a torchlight meeting in the market-place. there was preaching, and the chanting, in rhythm but not rhyme, of a versified story of the life of christ. the missionaries make much of this sort of telugu singing. there was the same crowd of auditors that had met us in the afternoon, but now the intermittent light of the torches made the scene seem to be flashing rays of conviction into many a troubled breast, and i wished that some great painter could immortalize the picture upon canvas, for no one can understand missions to the heathen without picturing to himself such preaching. the next morning, on our way back to ongole, we visited the famous spot on the river bank at vellumpilly where, in , , believers were baptized. on sunday we attended a service of the mission church, where a native pastor officiated and at least fifteen hundred persons in addition to the missionaries were present, though several hundreds of scholars were absent on account of the holiday vacation. and finally, at the sunset hour on that memorable sabbath day, we ascended prayer-meeting hill, where doctor jewett, mrs. jewett, and two others met on new year's day fifty years ago, looked out over the great surrounding plain, and prayed the lord to give them the telugus, as john knox of old prayed, "give me scotland, or i die!" in both cases prayer was answered, and we hope the more recent prayers offered on that historic spot in january, , will also be answered. the telugus are gradually being won, and we ourselves were witnesses to that fact when, at the village of naletur, we beheld the baptism of eleven new converts, nine stalwart young men and two married women. kavali is next to be mentioned. here is a work for the gradual reformation of criminals and the industrial regeneration of india. in this land of poverty and famine, our converts, when turned out of house and home, need new means of earning a livelihood. there is in india a hereditary criminal class which, like the thugs of a former generation, make it a sort of religion to prey upon their fellow countrymen. the british government has been almost powerless either to subdue or to reform such offenders. something more than mere justice is required in their treatment. the government is recognizing the value of christian education and supervision, and has recently put large tracts of territory into the hands of the salvation army, the methodists, and the baptists, with a view to combining compulsory work and paternal influence in the reform of the criminal classes. the rev. samuel d. bawden, at kavali, has charge of over eight hundred such people, and is teaching them agriculture and all manner of trades. mr. bawden is one of the graduates of our theological seminary. he was for several years chaplain of our house of refuge at rochester. physically and mentally he is a remarkable man, an athlete and almost a giant, a man of science and a man of faith. it needs all these gifts to dominate and lead toward christ eight hundred born thieves. i know of no more self-sacrificing and christlike work than that which brother bawden is doing. the success of it proves its value. there are no prison walls, though leaving the community is followed by pursuit and recommittal. there are no punishments except deprivation of food-wages. each member of the community is paid in food, and in proportion to the extent of his labor. if he will not work, neither can he eat. opportunities for education are given to all. there is even a church, made up of converted convicts. the faithful among these erukalas, as they are called, are made monitors and helpers to their weaker fellows. squads are sent out from five to twenty miles, to build and repair the roads, with only an unarmed comrade for overseer. nothing is given but education and christian influence. everything for the physical man is earned. in this way hundreds of reformed criminals learn to gain their own living and to lead an honest life. it was pathetic to receive the welcome of these humble men, and to see their reverence and affection for their "big father," mr. bawden. we heard them greet him as "our savior." to show their respect for mr. bawden's former theological instructor, these poor men subscribed of their scanty means and hired a large gasoline street lamp to illuminate the evening service. i have reserved to the last my account of our visit to nellore. nellore is last, but not least, for this was our first permanent mission station in south india. work was indeed begun at vizagapatam in , but in it was moved to madras, and in to nellore, madras being reopened in . nellore is one hundred and seven miles north of madras, on the main line of railway, and sixteen miles from the seacoast. in the nellore field we have six churches, and a total of nine hundred and twenty-six members. it is our baptist schools that most attract our attention. the coles-ackerman high school, in charge of the rev. l. c. smith, has more than eight hundred pupils, and is a great credit to our denomination. bible classes and special preaching services for students are conducted with enthusiasm by our young missionaries, smith and manley, and they bring good results. there are also in nellore a high school for girls, a hospital for women, and a nurses' training-school, all under the direction of our woman's society. in these schools, miss tencate and miss carman are representatives of rochester. the general work of the mission is presided over by the rev. charles rutherford, one of my former pupils and graduates. mr. rutherford is the young and able successor of dr. david downie, a much older rochester man, and one of the pioneers and leaders of the telugu mission. he graduated from rochester in , the year in which i began my work as president of the seminary. i cannot easily express my gratification at finding him in south india to welcome me, and to accompany me during a large part of my stay on this field. few men have so noble a record. though he retired from active service ten years ago, and is now devoting himself to writing the history of the mission, he is still vigorous in mind and heart, and to meet him is to come in contact with "an incarnation"--an incarnation of the missionary spirit. he has seen "the little one" become not only "a thousand," but well nigh a hundred thousand. his faith is great, that this whole telugu land will bow to christ's scepter. long may he live, to bless india and the world! xi the dravidian temples the dravidians are supposed by most ethnologists to have been the aborigines of india. when they were subdued by the aryans from the north, they were crowded southward and were compelled to serve their conquerors. this subjugation was the origin of caste; the weaker became hewers of wood and drawers of water for the stronger. the brahman would have no social intercourse with the sudra, and thought even his touch a profanation. for the brahman represented brahma, was in fact brahma incarnate, while the sudra was a manifestation of deity in inferior clay. yet the brahman needed the sudra, and had to propitiate him in order to use him. so the aryan absorbed into his own system some of the dravidian gods, and usually did so by marrying to dravidian female divinities male deities of his own. siva, the aryan god, for example, took for his wife the dravidian goddess kali. in many ways like this, the aryan and the dravidian united to form the hindu. the hindu religion is a composite--a corruption of the nature-worship of the earlier vedas by its union with the more cruel and debasing features of the dravidian idolatry. the renowned temples of southern india best represent this mongrel form of hinduism, and show hinduism in its most corrupt development under dravidian influences. the massiveness and vastness of these temples demonstrate the power of the religious instinct in man, even when that instinct is most perverted. with all their grossness and crudity, these shrines reveal a wealth of imagination and an artistic inventiveness, which furnish object-lessons to the most cultivated occidental mind. we wonder what the east could really have accomplished, if its native gifts had been under the control of christian truth. unfortunately, those gifts were commonly under the control of the baser instincts. paul's philosophy of heathenism is far more correct than that of many a modern writer on comparative religion. only an ancestral sin can explain man's universal ignorance and depravity. because he would not retain god in his knowledge, he was given up to the dominion of vile affections, to show him his need of a divine redemption. tanjore and madura are the seats of the dravidian temples which we visited. tanjore is two hundred miles south of madras, and fifty miles from the bay of bengal. it is in the presidency of madras, but european influences have not greatly changed its prevailingly native aspect. the half-naked coolies, and the children clothed only in sunshine, show how inveterate are custom and poverty. the great tanjore temple is the center of worship for a hundred miles round. it is built on a stupendous scale. it consists of a series of courts, in the midst of which are two tremendous towers or gopuras, as the technical term should be. its principal tower, is pyramidal in form, is two hundred feet in height, is covered with row after row of colossal carvings of gods and goddesses, and is surmounted by an immense dome-shaped and gilded top of solid stone, said to have been brought to its place upon an inclined plane from the quarry four miles away. the gateway leading to the temple is itself an enormous structure. it opens upon a court eight hundred feet long by four hundred feet wide, the walls of which enclose an endless succession of little chapels, each one of which has at its back a rude picture of some incarnation of vishnu or krishna, and in front of each picture there stands erect an image in stone of the lingam or phallus. a great platform, in the center of the court, houses, beneath a gorgeous canopy, an immense black granite image of a bull, the favorite animal of siva, carved out of a single block sixteen feet long and twelve feet high, and kept perpetually shining by anointings of holy oil. the imagination of the worshiper is thus excited by successive statues and pictures, until at last he reaches the tremendous pyramidal tower, or gopura, which portrays and symbolizes the power of the heathen god to destroy and to recreate. that massive tower, superimposed above the idol and forming its magnificent abiding-place, has no superior in all india for grandeur. mr. fergusson, the distinguished writer on architecture, calls it the most beautiful and effective of all the towers found in dravidian temples. the sculptures in the long and dimly lighted corridors at the base of the temple, and in the first tiers of the tower, are wonderfully realistic representations of a sensual and ferocious deity. but, as you stand in the court, and look up the sides of the tower to the gilded pinnacle on its dome, you discover that all the upper rows of gods and demons are of stucco. money evidently gave out, as the structure rose, and plaster took the place of stone. the appurtenances of the temple are tawdry and childish. huge cars, in which images of the gods are carried about at times of festival, stand in the courtyard. each car has its bejeweled beast for the god or goddess to ride--a wooden elephant, a wooden bull, a wooden rat--each with trappings of many-colored glass, to imitate rubies and diamonds, and each with its escort of dusky priests, not forgetting to follow the foreign visitor and hold out their hands for alms. yet in these corridors there were prostrated many absorbed and eager worshipers, seeking protection or aid from a deity more demonlike than divine. one's heart grew sick as he realized that, still in these latter days, the heathen in his blindness bows down to wood and stone, and worships in a temple which exhibits in its halls a hundred immense images of the male organ of generation. it was a relief to be conducted by a clergyman of the anglican faith to the church where lie buried the remains of schwartz, the first english missionary to india. it must have required great gifts of mind and heart and will to brave hindu opposition, to win the affection and support of a raja, and to lay the foundations of a christian community in this heathen land. schwartz was a prussian by birth, though he went out as a missionary of a danish society. he gave his life and his fortune to the cause of missions, and the english work in tanjore is even now largely supported by the endowments which he left behind him when he died. our good friend doctor blake, the english clergyman, took us to the palace of the princess of tanjore, also to the raja's library of oriental manuscripts within the palace--a priceless collection of eighteen thousand sanskrit manuscripts, of which eight thousand are written on palm-leaves. this library is unique in all india; and it shows that a raja in tanjore, in his love for literature, could equal the raja of jaipur, in his love for astronomy. the desire for learning was a passion that survived the fall, an evidence of the presence in humanity of the preincarnate christ, "the light that lighteth every man." madura is a hundred miles farther south than tanjore. it is really the center of dravidian worship. while some features of the tanjore temple are more beautiful, the temple at madura is more vast. five great pyramidal towers, four of them on the points of the compass, meet the eye as one looks upon the temple from a distance. the temple is built about two great shrines or cells, one for the god siva and the other for his goddess wife minakshi, each cell surmounted by a noble dome of plated gold. on the four sides of the temple are stone porches, arcades, and pillared halls of great variety, filled with elaborate and grotesque carvings and sculptures. the extent of the structure may be judged from the simple statement that the outer walls, twenty-five feet high, surround a space eight hundred and thirty by seven hundred and thirty feet, and are surmounted by four lofty gate-pyramids, each of them ten stories in height. the portico roof of minakshi's hall is supported upon six rows of carved pillars, each made from a single stone. there is an extensive "golden lily tank," bordered by a granite corridor hung with cages of parrots, and the putrid waters of the tank furnish purification preparatory to worship at minakshi's shrine. the very porch or entrance pavilion of this shrine is called "the hall of a thousand pillars," though the actual number is nine hundred and eighty-five. here and there among the pillars are seated learned men or pundits, who place offerings of flowers and perfumed water before their sacred books and chant the meaning of sanskrit scriptures to groups of devout listeners. the great temple, with its dimly lighted corridors, is open to the public day and night, and there is special illumination by hundreds of little lamps in an arch at the entrance when night comes on. long avenues are filled with buyers and sellers of wares, and the rent of their stalls furnishes a large revenue for the support of the many priests. a big elephant and a baby elephant, each with the mark of the god upon its forehead, are paraded up and down, and are taught to pick up with their trunks the coins thrown down by visitors. innumerable dark alcoves invite the crowd to rest, and many a sleeping form is seen at the foot of the altars. imagine a festival night with these dimly lighted courts crowded with worshipers, the fierce and lustful images, the glorification of the lingam, the secret places of assignation! and this is the acme of hindu religion! there are better things than this to be seen in madura. the palace of tirumala, a raja of the seventh century, is a magnificent specimen of moorish architecture with unexpected gothic tendencies. its entrance hall, one hundred and thirty-five feet long, half as wide, and seventy feet high, has a lofty roof supported by heavy stone pillars with pointed arches of saracenic type. it shows that the moslem, in the long ago, had at least a temporary hold upon south india. this palace, which has the structural character of a gothic building, has now been partially restored and taken for the law-courts of the british government. the same tirumala who built the palace, built the teppa kulam, an artificial reservoir outside the town, about one thousand feet on a side, very symmetrical and the largest of its kind in south india. the whole "tank" is surrounded with granite walls and parapets, and next the water there is a granite walk five feet wide running round the whole structure. flights of steps lead down to the water, at intervals. in the center of this small lake is an island, also walled around with granite slabs, and on it there are five towers, a large one in the center and one at each of the four corners. the whole effect is very graceful and it makes a sight long to be remembered, when the "feast of lights" takes place and the island and the parapets and the granite curbings are illuminated with hundreds of little oil-lamps. not far away from the "tank" is a famous banyan-tree which covers with its shade an area sixty yards in diameter, has a main stem seventy feet in circumference, and has besides two hundred branches that have struck root. but the noblest sight of madura is its american congregational mission. beginning in , the american board of commissioners for foreign missions planned and founded their most wise and successful foreign missions. they have aimed to do one thing well: to make the madura station not only complete but well supported, to embrace in it all stages of education and all sorts of evangelization; and to reduce the whole work to a unified system. and the result has been the raising up of a large native ministry, churches with twenty-two thousand members, schools of every grade from the kindergarten to the college and the theological seminary. we were most hospitably entertained by the principal of the college, dr. j. x. miller, and the other missionaries; and we met and addressed both the native church at their sunday service, the faculty and students of the seminary, and the annual conference of congregational missionaries. the madura mission is a light shining in a dark place, the darkest place indeed in india. but it is a light that cannot be hid. like our missions to the burmans and the telugus, it is showing the power of the gospel to "cast down imaginations and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of god," and to make a spiritual desert "bud and blossom as the rose." xii two weeks in ceylon ceylon is not a part of india. it is a crown colony of great britain, and is administered directly from london, while india has more of independence and self-government. the relation of ceylon to britain is somewhat like that of the philippine islands to the united states, while the relation of britain to india resembles that of the united states government to our several territories. ceylon, however, is very productive and prosperous. surrounded by the sea, it is free from indian droughts and famines. its people are stalwart and loyal. the english language is fast becoming the easiest method of communication between cingalese and tamils, hindus and malays. colombo is really a european city, as large as rochester, with noble public buildings and lovely parks. our galle face hotel, on the very edge of the sea, with a great stretch of green lawn in front of it, is one of the finest hotels in the east, and our week of rest here was delightful. buddhism has been one of the great missionary religions of the world. it was a reform of hinduism. but the hindus, with their caste system, would have none of it and drove it out. the buddhist triumphs were in burma, tibet, china, japan, at the north; in ceylon and java, at the south. here in ceylon is preserved a sacred tooth of buddha; and one of his bones, recently discovered in northern india, is to be brought next week with great pomp and ceremony to the temple in kandy, which already ranks in sacredness next to the great shwe dagon pagoda in rangoon. a temple in java is founded upon a single hair of buddha's head. all this superstition and imposture dates back to a couple of centuries before christ, and there is great reason to believe that the roman catholic worship of relics is only an appropriation of this form of heathenism. christian schools and churches are doing much to undermine buddhism in ceylon. colombo is especially fortunate in possessing a noble college of the wesleyan methodists and a strong institution of all grades with eight hundred students. the english baptists also have a very creditable mission work under the charge of messrs. ewing and charter; while mr. woods is the able pastor of an english-speaking baptist church. the students of these various schools usually adopt the english dress. the barefooted pupils first put on shoes, then the coat, finally the trousers. in the end you can hardly distinguish them from europeans. these changes are more rapid in colombo than in madras. indeed, british rule is fast transforming what was first a portuguese, and then a dutch, settlement into a city where english is universally known and spoken. it was gratifying to find that the government college, where the english language alone is used, is opened every day with the reading of scripture and with prayer. but it was unpleasing to learn that, side by side with these christian influences, the ananda college, a theosophical institution, allied to mrs. besant of madras, was exerting an influence unfavorable to christianity, not only by setting buddha side by side with christ, but by urging the claim of buddha to be the supreme ethical teacher of the world. before i tell you of our visit to buddhist temples, i must speak of the refuge from them which we found at nurwara eliya, sixty-two hundred feet above the sea. colombo is only six degrees north of the equator. here in january the sun casts hardly any shadow at noon, and the middle of the day is hot. later in the year the heat is intense, day and night. so british officials combine with the rich of every tongue, and even with the missionaries, to make their summer quarters high up among the hills. we were transported thither on a narrow-gage railway, cut into the sides of precipices, running through tunnels, and so tortuous as to form a hundred horseshoe loops. the road seemed almost a miracle of engineering. but the views were beautiful beyond description. it was switzerland without its ruggedness. it was italy on the southern side of the alps, as "philip van artevelde" best describes it: sublime, but neither bleak nor bare nor misty, are the mountains there; softly sublime, profusely fair; up to their summits clothed in green, and fruitful as the vales between, they lightly rise and scale the skies, and groves and gardens still abound, for where no shoot can else take root, the peaks are shelved and terraced round. i am inclined to think that, of all the beautiful railway rides i have ever taken, this was the finest. from the rice-fields of the plains we passed upward through endless tea-plantations, where every inch of soil was preserved and utilized by the construction of artificial terraces. in the midst of these plantations, rubber trees were set at intervals. there were many instances when we looked down from our airy perch, on the edge of a precipice, at least a thousand feet, and saw ourselves on the side of a veritable amphitheater of mountains towering a thousand feet above us and covered with rows of tea-plants from the bottom to the top. this amphitheater was often two miles across, every foot of the ground minutely cultivated and a perfect sea of verdure. but, as we went up, the palm gave place to the pine; cold succeeded to heat; and to be at all comfortable at our hotel we were obliged to order fire in our rooms. beautiful for situation as was nurwara eliya, we were glad, on account of the january cold, to leave it. and we went to kandy. i wonder whether our word "candy" is derived from that sweet place. i agree with some celebrated author, whose name i forget, in saying that "kandy is the loveliest city in the loveliest island in the world." of late years kandy has become the resort of tourists, though the present war has greatly diminished their number. a hotel that was accustomed to entertain fifty guests now has only half a dozen. but the beauty of the place abides. an artificial lake, with an island of green in its center and winding among a forest of stately palms, is surrounded by a circlet of hills. on the summit of one of these hills is the missionary rest-house, founded and endowed by a wealthy christian woman for the relief of pilgrims, as was the house beautiful of bunyan's story. there we were invited to afternoon-tea, and as i looked upon the fairylike landscape i almost thought the garden of eden had come again. but i could not long be deceived, for at the very foot of this hill was the most famous buddhist temple of ceylon. if this is paradise, it is paradise lost. here buddha's tooth is worshiped, and here a newly discovered bone of his body is to add sanctity to the temple. we attended the evening worship, which consisted of a torchlight procession of priests, with beating of tom-toms and frenzied dancing of musicians, which would have done credit to the savagery of the fiji islands. the temple here has no lofty pagoda. it shows what the original pagoda really was, for this temple has a number of bell-shaped structures resting on the ground. next, historically, came the elevation of the bell upon a stone platform; and, finally, the lifting of it into the air, resplendent with gilding. kandy illustrates the humble beginnings of buddhistic worship, but with later accessories begotten by irrational devotion. i should mention, however, the only sign of intelligence which i found in this buddhist temple. it was the library of pali manuscripts containing the sacred books and stories of buddha's life and doctrine. many of these manuscripts were written on palm-leaves and were wrapped in silken coverings. some had been presented by siamese and by burmese kings. some were ancient. i saw no priest who could read them, and i fancy that the sacred books are really studied only by pundits, whose vocation is that of teaching, and whose personal beliefs may be very different from those of orthodox buddhism. it was pleasant to find, not far from the temple of the tooth, a little church of the english baptists, which sends out light into all the surrounding darkness. its pastor is a native christian, who preaches every sunday morning in cingalese and every sunday evening in english, while his week-days are devoted to the work of conducting an english boys' school. kandy is celebrated also for its botanical gardens. only those of java compare with them in completeness. the long avenues of palms of different varieties--palmyra, talipot, sago, royal, sealing-wax--and the specimens of bamboo, india rubber, and rain-tree, are unique and wonderful. the rain-tree is so called because the vast spread of its branches and the density of its foliage collect the dew to such an extent as actually to water the ground upon which it drops. think of viewing in one morning of two hours' length, a score of trees we had hitherto known only in the tales of the tropics: the traveler's tree with its fernlike leaves, the cannon-ball tree, the deadly upas, the nourishing breadfruit, the clove, the cinnamon, the mace or nutmeg, the vanilla, the guava, the cork, the almond, the mulberry, the mango, the sandalwood! there were great screw-pines, lignum-vitae, mahogany, mimosa, magnolia trees; and the tree-fern, the giant creeper, the panama-hat plant, the peruvian cactus, the papyrus, the pineapple, and a great collection of orchids. only the sunshine and the moisture of ceylon could produce such a result. a tree cared for from its first sprouting, and favored by the elements, becomes a wonder of the world. it shows what man may become under the tutelage of god. anurajahpura was our last place to visit. far to the north of colombo, it is the most important extant specimen of the ruined cities of ceylon. before the time of christ it was the seat of a kingdom that embraced the whole island. buddhism, after a life-and-death struggle, captured it and erected in it structures for worship, which for grandeur and beauty rivaled those of burma. two pagodas, or dagobas, of solid brick, each of them more than two hundred feet high, tower up before one as he enters the town. these structures are covered with verdure, for grasses and shrubs have eaten their way into the mortar on the sides, until the dagobas resemble conical natural hills. it is said that the brick of a single one would suffice to build a wall eight feet high and a foot thick from edinburgh to london. one of them is being restored, and fifty men are at work upon it, tearing away the vegetation and building anew the outside covering of brick. the dagoba itself is not a temple, for it is solid and has no chamber within; but at its base is a structure, infinitesimal in size as compared with the one that towers above it, and in this structure there is a reclining statue of buddha seventy feet long. buddha must have been a giant, for his footprints are four feet long, and his tooth is as large as the tooth of an alligator, and surprisingly like one. the grounds in the neighborhood of these towering dagobas are strewn with ruins. sixteen hundred pillars of stone, seven feet high, remain to show the vast foundations of an ancient buddhist monastery. there is also a temple excavated in the solid rock of the hillside, and adorned with curious carvings of elephants. we made the acquaintance of its high priest under very peculiar circumstances. we met him at a funeral. it was the cremation of one of his priests. on the outskirts of the village a great crowd surrounded a burning pyre. two or three cords of rough wood had been piled up, with the body of the priest in its center and the bier on which the body had been brought laid upon its top. the fire was blazing upward, and a deafening beating of tom-toms gave sacredness to the obsequies. the awe-stricken followers of buddha stood at a little distance around, while the flames grew fierce, and the sickening odor of burning flesh entered their nostrils. it was no wonder that they were willing to follow the high priest, when he came to salute me as a minister of religion from the other side of the world. he was eighty-eight years of age. clothed in his saffron robe and holding with trembling hands his rod of office, he seemed the decaying specimen of a moribund religion. he presented me with an umbrella of yellow silk. it had an ivory handle with the carving of a lotus bud on its end. i could not let him make such a present without some reward, and he seemed grateful for the few rupees which my interpreter wrapped up in his handkerchief. he lifted up his fan and fanned me, as we parted, while he uttered some words of blessing. i could hardly doubt his good will, or fail to hope that some gleams of heavenly light had come to him from christ, the light of the world. but anurajahpura was, like pagan in burma, the type of a vanishing religion, and its high priest was, like the jewish high priest of old, the type of a priesthood sure to pass away, since christ, the true high priest, has come. xiii java and buddhism we have crossed the equator, and the southern cross, invisible to northern eyes, seems still to beckon us onward. but we have reached the most distant point of our journey, and henceforth we shall be homeward bound, taking china and japan as we go. java is not so hot as we expected. an island like cuba, six hundred miles long and only two hundred broad, has sea-breezes enough to keep it tolerably cool. rain falls almost every day, with an average of twelve feet in a year. as the moisture is excessive, all sorts of vegetation are luxuriant. java is a gem of the ocean, and an emerald gem at that. life here is as easy as anywhere on earth, and there is a swarming population. while ceylon, similar in area, has only five millions of inhabitants, java has thirty-five millions. java is the jewel of the dutch crown, one of the most fertile and productive islands of the world. coffee and tea, rice and sugar, salt and spice, tobacco and corn, coal and oil, coconut and rubber, are exported in an aggregate of two hundred millions of our dollars every year, while the aggregate of imports is little more than a hundred and twenty millions. the dutch have taken a colony whose deficits once frightened the english into abandoning it, and by the famous "culture system" of letting out the land upon wise conditions as to the kind and quantity of production, have turned the whole island into a veritable garden, and a principal source of revenue for holland. the dutch indeed have drawn from java much more than they have given. the roman empire should have taught them that incorporation of a colony, and privilege granted to it, were the only security for permanent possession. until ten years ago, however, the dutch policy was one of repression rather than one of development. while britain has tried by her schools and hospitals to anglicize india, holland, for many years, tried to keep the javanese apart and in subjection, discouraging their study of the dutch language and giving them also no share in the government. this policy has at last been seen to be suicidal; chinese immigration has added an element of vigor, industry, and discontent; the modern movement in india and in japan has provoked new aspirations here; even the malay has become aware that he has rights. dutch schools have at last begun to educate the people; the more progressive among the students are also learning english; and java now bids fair to press forward to occupy a position in the van of national and democratic progress. i am deeply impressed with the density and vastness of this population. only belgium surpasses java in the number of inhabitants to the square mile. we have taken a ride by rail for four hundred miles through the center of the island. we have passed volcanoes actually smoking; for a long range of mountains, rising sometimes to a height of twelve thousand feet, constitutes the back-bone of java. there are sublime and beautiful landscapes all along the way, sublime because of their occasionally rocky grandeur, and beautiful because of the minute cultivation that adorns both hillside and plain. the endless rice-fields, and the fields of sugar-cane that stretch for miles like a billowy sea, make a railway journey by day a constant source of delight. you ride in a perennial garden, and it is perfectly natural that the bird of paradise should have its habitat here. like ceylon, java is sure to be the resort of innumerable tourists, for here are wonders beyond any to be found in localities more commonly visited. and yet it is the people that interest one even more than the land they live in. we turned aside at different points, from the stations of the railways, and got glimpses of the javanese in their country homes. i am bound to say that these homes were often primitive in the extreme, mere shacks or huts of bamboo and thatch, often without windows and with only a door in front and a door behind, sometimes standing in a pool of shallow water or lifted on stilts to escape the rain. but everybody seemed to be at work, except on market-days, when the whole population of a district gathered in a country fair. the throng and press of these trading-days, the strife and din, the variety of wares, and the sharpness of competition, were something new to us and long to be remembered. the amusements of the javanese, their music, their shadow-dances, all show a vigor and passion, which explain their occasional use of the "kriss" or malay dagger, and the difficulty of subduing and civilizing so ardent and imaginative a people. but they are a people _sui generis_, and sure, when roused and educated, to take their part on the modern stage. i have intimated that the dutch government has seen its past mistakes, and has entered upon a new and more generous policy. nothing could demonstrate this better than the botanical gardens at buitenzorg. these are unique in the world, the most complete and the most practical. the gardens at kandy in ceylon are more artistically arranged and are more beautiful to the ordinary visitor. but these in java are more scientific and more helpful to the general development of the country. they include the chemical investigation of agricultural products, as well as the testing of their nutritive value and their tensile strength. rubber planters are shown proper methods of culture, and also improved methods of preparing the product for market. seventy different varieties of rice have been discovered and classified; and the tillers of the soil have been shown how they can greatly increase the yield of their acreage. all the great botanical collections of the world communicate their novelties and discoveries to the java gardens. here at buitenzorg there is a school of forestry and another of veterinary science, each of these with practical demonstrations. trees and plants in the gardens are grouped in scientific classes, the palms by themselves, the pines by themselves. here the _victoria regia_, the royal pond-lily, flourishes in its proper habitat. the avenues of kanari trees, with their lofty overarching vaulting, are grander than any nave of french cathedral. it will be seen at once that the botanical and experimental gardens of java are of immense service to agriculture and to science throughout the world. we had the great privilege of being personally conducted through them by dr. k. j. lovink, director of the dutch department of agriculture, industry, and commerce. i wish i could say as much for the religious prospects of java as i can say for its economical and political prospects. there is even greater need of change in this regard, for the island has been a very stronghold of buddhism, as it is now of mohammedanism. when driven out from india, the buddhist missionaries came to java and here found a welcome. javanese kings erected temples so enormous and so rich in sculpture that, defaced and decayed as they now are, they have no superiors on earth. it was, indeed, the fame of boro budor, that most attracted us to java, and we made a journey of thirteen hours to inspect this renowned ruin. imagine a structure upon an eminence from which it is visible for miles, yet walled in on one side by a lofty range of mountains, and on the other side commanding a magnificent view of cultivated plains. imagine a temple of brick, like the great pyramid of egypt, more than five hundred feet square, with five broad terraces, the uppermost of which encloses an immense sitting statue of buddha. the topmost crown of this solid structure rises more than two hundred feet above the ground. the wonder of boro budor is, however, not the vastness of the structure, containing though it does an amount of material five times as great as that of any english cathedral, so much as it is the enormous amount of artistic work that has been expended upon it. each of these five terraces has sculptured upon its side walls some representation in bas-relief of the legendary incidents of buddha's existence, not only in the present state, but in his previous states of being. you walk, as it were, through a picture-gallery of the life of buddha. the bas-reliefs are wrought out with such delicacy as to suggest the influence of greek art upon the multitude of artists who toiled for years to produce them. the effect, at least, is grecian; and the number of the plaques is so great that, if they were placed in a continuous row, the line would be three miles long. besides these sculptures, the terrace-walls are interrupted at regular intervals by four hundred and thirty-six niches or alcove-chapels, each with its image of buddha facing the outside world, so that the visitor approaching the temple cannot fail to see one hundred and nine buddhas, or one-fourth of the total number, looking down upon him. above these alcove-chapels there are seventy-two small latticed domes, or dagobas, each with its statue of buddha imprisoned within, as if he were preparing himself, by seclusion and meditation, for the final state in which the great chamber which crowns the structure represents him, i mean the state of passivity and bliss, which has escaped the evils of transmigration and has attained to absorption of personal existence of the impersonal world-force which the hindu called brahma. it is difficult to express the emotions which are roused by such an exhibition of man's religious instinct, enlightened simply by god's revelation of himself in the natural world and in the nature of man. here is a seeking, but not a finding, a groping in the dark, with only the faint rays of conscience to show man the way. yet he who is the light of the world was lighting every man, before his advent in the flesh, and even buddha was a reformer and an advance upon the brahmanism of his time. he preached the doctrine of unselfish devotion, but he turned it into error by ignoring man's duty to himself. he made extinction of desire, rather than purification of desire, to be the way to happiness. how different this from that thirst after god, even the living god, which animated the psalmist, or that hungering and thirsting after righteousness which christ says shall be filled! buddha found in self, rather than in god, the power to overcome evil. buddhism has no personal god to whom appeal may be made for strength, and buddha himself has no power to answer prayer, since he long ago passed into a realm of inactivity which is practically indistinguishable from non-existence. there is no atonement for past sin nor escape from its consequences, but by the giving up of being. buddhism is a pessimistic and joyless religion. hence it suffers deterioration in competition with the more active systems. close by boro budor, where buddhism reached its culmination, are the temples of mendoet and brambanam, which show a reversion in the popular mind to hindu brahmanism. and when the moslem came, with his doctrine of a personal and living god, buddhism had no force to combat it. boro budor, once the center of worship for a mighty kingdom, now stands alone and desolate in a great wilderness, without priest or worshiper. djokjokarta, the next city in size to batavia, is to-day more mohammedan than buddhist. christian schools and missions are doing much to turn this moral wilderness into beauty. to convert java to christianity will add to christ's subjects the very queen of the east. xiv the renaissance in india a recent book by prof. c. f. andrews, formerly of the cambridge brotherhood in delhi, has arrested my attention, as the best extant synopsis of the religious history and prospects of that great country. it is entitled "the renaissance in india." it has not yet been reprinted in america, and can be obtained only in the british isles. i have thought it worth while to make it known among us by writing a review, and the following paper might perhaps serve such a purpose. but, in the writing, so many thoughts and illustrations of my own have suggested themselves, that i cannot credit professor andrews with the result, except in part, and i submit my work as my own almost as much as it is his. let me first, however, do professor andrews the justice of explaining that the cambridge brotherhood is a semimonastic fraternity of the church of england, which aims to convert india to christianity by indoctrinating its higher classes. all its members are bachelors, and their pure life as well as their learning and liberality are attractive to educated heathen seekers after god. our author is himself a devout believer in a preexistent christ, and he recognizes some rays of christ's light in buddha and in confucius. this faith has led him to sever his connection with the cambridge brotherhood of late, and to connect himself with the school of rabindranath tagore, whom the british government has recently knighted for his poetical gifts and for his political loyalty. members of the brotherhood have thought this leaving of their body a mistake of judgment, and too great a concession to a rival religion, while they still admire the self-devotion which leads their former brother to carry his advocacy of christianity into what he regards as the most promising school of hinduism. with this explanation i proceed to the treatment of my subject. * * * * * in the fifteenth century the european world was intellectually born again. the barbarian goths and vandals had put an end to the roman empire, and learning had taken refuge in the monasteries. even that learning had become ecclesiastical. precious manuscripts of the greek classics had their original writing wiped off to make room for monkish homilies. the people were in ignorance and were ruled by the priests. but the crusades had brought about a new intercourse between the west and the east. the fall of constantinople sent greek books and greek scholars to venice and to rome. greek art inspired michelangelo and raphael. a great wave of enthusiasm for the new learning swept over europe. the printing-press multiplied copies of the old literature and put them in the hands of the poor. it was the precursor of a new civilization, and because it was a new birth of thought, we call it the renaissance. the renaissance, however, needed another factor to complement it. not merely intellect was sleeping, but also man's moral nature. conscience and will required new stimulus. religious reformation was necessary as much as intellectual revival. greek books brought with them the vice, as well as the art, of the east. renaissance without reformation produced the borgias and their unspeakable wickedness. erasmus without luther would never have saved europe from ruin. it was the new view of christ that showed men their sins, brought repentance and hope, purified literature, gave power to social truth, and united with the new learning to make possible our modern civilization. it was a triumph of christianity over the powers of darkness, for christianity involves both renaissance and reformation. a similar intellectual change has been coming over the eastern world, and has been awakening the slumbering nations. who would have foretold a half-century ago that turkey and persia, japan and china, would now have constitutional governments and legislative assemblies? the world has moved very fast during the past decade. modern inventions have given new wings to thought, the nations have been coming to self-consciousness, freedom is in the air, even war is teaching the absurdity of committing the destiny of a whole people to the arbitrary rule of any single monarch. the success of japan in her struggle with russia aroused the whole east. china has awaked from the sleep of ages. and india is the scene of unrest, and will not be satisfied until her vast populations are given a larger share in her government. india has witnessed the beginnings of her renaissance. the universities which her rulers have established have diffused the new learning. but they have also raised up a host of educated men, some of whom can find no employment except in sedition. false philosophies, imported from the west, have made these same men agnostic, and have disposed them to put evolution in place of god. old religions have lost even their little power to control the moral life, and a vague desire for independence of all restraint has led to revolutionary and even anarchistic plots. we have some of the same dangers in our southern states. the negro is in many cases receiving a higher education than he can utilize, and is becoming a possible leader of revolt, while there is a vast inflammable multitude of uneducated negroes whom he can incite to violence and disorder. as with us, christianity is needed side by side with education, so in india to-day, intellectual renaissance needs to be supplemented by religious reformation. a glance at the history of india's religious systems will help our understanding of the problem. the earliest record is that of the rig-veda. it is a recognition of the powers of nature, and an exaltation of them to divine honor and worship. the apostle paul gives us the further explanation that this deification of god's works was the result of a previous unwillingness to retain the personal god in their knowledge. to worship god's manifestations is to lose the sense of his unity and his moral governance. men preferred the sun in the heavens to the sun of righteousness. they lost sight of the true god in self-chosen admiration of his works. "while the semitic mind gravitated toward the ethical and the personal, the aryan gravitated toward the philosophic and the impersonal." the upanishads are the second series of hindu scriptures. these practically identify the human soul, as well as all natural objects, with the supreme god. the self is only a manifestation of brahma. the trend is toward absolute pantheism. the individual is lost in the whole, and the realization of this is salvation. but humanity cannot be content without the semblance of personality in god, and since everything has become divine, it was easy to regard not only natural powers, but also personal beings as gods. polytheism was the result. vishnu and siva, gods of reproductive and destructive powers, came to be worshiped. incarnation and transmigration followed. the incarnation was not the incarnation of the supreme brahma, but of one of the subordinate deities, vishnu, and even this incarnation was but a temporary assumption of human form--a vanishing manifestation, to be put off again like a worn-out garment when the real god returned to his heaven. the hindu trimurti was never the christian trinity; for christ is not only the supreme god manifest in the flesh, but also the eternal revealer of god, who takes our humanity to be a part of himself forever, the partaker of his inmost being and the sharer of his throne. while we credit hinduism with the idea of incarnation, we regard it as only showing this to be a necessity of human thought, and as far from satisfying man's longings for union with god. gautama buddha, passionless and lost in the contemplation of his own excellence, is not the christian redeemer, who daily bears our burdens and takes upon himself, in order that he may take away, the sin of the world. and what shall we say of the other deities of the hindu pantheon, but that they are personifications of every human caprice and vice. the krishna of the puranas has infected all india with his licentiousness, and has given sanction to the worst forms of lust. the growth of caste was another result of the loss of a personal and moral god and the deification of his works. since all things came to be regarded as manifestations of deity, the order of society and its distinctions became fixed. the origin of caste is to be found in the superiority of the aryan conqueror to the dravidian aborigines. the people of light complexion looked down on the dark-skinned race, and drove them to the wall. intermarriage between the two classes of the population became abhorrent to the ruling class, and all manner of restrictions were put upon their intercourse, till even the shadow of the outcaste falling upon the brahman brought contamination. let us not blame the aryan too hastily, for in south africa and in our own southern states we see the same denial that god has made of one blood all the races of men, and the same exclusion of the darker race from all privileges of human brotherhood. slave-owners were shocked when abraham lincoln lifted his hat to salute a negro, and southern men protested when president roosevelt entertained booker washington at his table. christian proclamation of human brotherhood constitutes one of the chief obstacles to the success of the gospel in india. the low place of woman and her lack of education is another obstacle which must be removed if india is to profit by the renaissance of learning. this undervaluing of the physically weak is itself a fruit of man's apostasy from god. and as brahmanism set its stamp of approval upon distinctions of caste and fixed them for centuries, so it was with woman's position and influence. she was condemned to inferiority. she became a mere instrument of man's pleasure, or a mere drudge in his household. she never sat with him at his meals, but ate what was left after he had been served; she never walked by his side, but always followed behind, when she was not shut up in the zenana at home. one of the best signs of a new civilization in india is the growing conviction among the higher classes that woman must be educated, if her children are to emerge from their superstitions and become of use in the modern world. the suttee has been abolished by law, but child-widowhood yet remains to curse the lives of millions. there is no better proof that christianity is permeating society with its influence than is found in the increasing number of girls who are seeking education in our mission schools and colleges. pundita ramabai has become a glory to her own countrymen, as much as has rabindranath tagore by his utterance, "the regeneration of the indian people to my mind, directly and perhaps solely, depends upon the removal of this condition of caste." we may add that the dominion of caste and the degradation of woman will come to an end together, and nothing but christianity will abolish them. the renaissance of learning is not enough. a new spirit of love is needed to solve the problems of india. for there is no country of the world where racial antagonisms are so felt. entirely apart from the distinctions of caste, which are racial in their origin, there is the distinction of hindu from mohammedan, which has its origin in religion. remember that, of india's population, sixty-five millions are moslems, while one hundred and eighty millions are hindus. the hindu men of caste cannot help paying some respect to the mohammedans, for they are compelled to acknowledge their financial and executive power, just as they acknowledge, without admiring, the power of their british rulers. they cannot treat moslems as outcastes, but they will not associate with them; and they cherish a settled antipathy to them. all this the mohammedans heartily reciprocate. english policy has in times past cultivated this mutual dislike, lest union between the two religious sects should lead to the formation of a party too strong for british rule to keep in subjection. one religion has been used to defeat the influence of the other. of late years only has it been true that both have been forced to recognize the impartial justice of british rule; and this recognition has been gained by the gradual admission of able men from both parties to many important judicial and administrative positions in the indian government. but the antagonism of religions still remains, and it constitutes a most serious bar in the way of a united india. * * * * * there are signs of an approaching reformation in india which will supplement its intellectual renaissance. just as the growing power of christianity in the second and third centuries of our era was shown by the competition of new and imitative religions like that of mithra, and by spasmodic attempts on the part of the old heathenism to interpret its mythology symbolically and to reform its moral practice; just as the growing power of the gospel in the fifteenth century led the roman church to slough off some of its abuses and to tolerate among its adherents reformers before the reformation; so in india the new learning from the west and the missionary proclamation of the gospel have brought about a state of religious unrest which could only be allayed by efforts on the part of hindus and moslems alike to interpret their faiths more rationally and to prove that these faiths were equal if not superior to christianity itself. the brahmo-somaj, which ram mohun roy founded at the end of the eighteenth century, largely as a result of his horror at the murder of his sister by suttee, has led to the abolition of that cruelty. ram mohun roy sought to purge hinduism of its corruptions by appealing to its earlier and purer scriptures. he was the first to establish a vernacular press in india, and, with alexander duff, the first english schools. though he did not formally profess christianity, he studied our christian scriptures, acknowledged their value and influence, and published a book entitled "the precepts of jesus." another hindu who exerted great influence during the half-century just passed was keshub chunder sen. he passionately adored christ as his true master. yet he was practically unitarian, and his later years belied the promise of his brilliant beginnings. though a member of the brahmo-somaj, he split the body in two by his violation of its prohibition of child-marriage, and wasted his strength in attempts to combine western rationalism with the ecstatic fervors of the east. as the result, the brahmo-somaj has declined, until in numbers and influence it has now hardly more than five thousand adherents in all india. mozumdar was one of its representatives who sought to give oriental interpretation of jesus, but one without ethical or saving power. the arya-samaj is a more consistent effort to reform hindu religion by bringing it back to the purer standards of the vedas. swami dayanand was the founder of the society. he was led to renounce idolatry by seeing a mouse eat food offered to an idol and run without hindrance over the idol's robes and hands. of all the reforming bodies, the arya-samaj most retains the confidence of the masses in the north of india. but its tenets are not acceptable to the educated classes of the south, and it needs a further infusion of both science and religion. thus far we have treated only of hindu progress. a word must be said of progress among the moslem population of india. here the aligarh movement demands attention. sir seyd ahmad khan was its leader. he was of noble family, entered the english service, and took part with the british in crushing the mutiny of . when the mohammedan population afterward fell under suspicion, he gathered round him a company of liberal young men and sought by educational means to bridge the gulf between moslem and english. he claimed that british rule in india represented christian civilization, and that this is no enemy to islam, but only its complement and helper. he saw that only religion could heal the breach and rescue islam from decline. he founded the aligarh college in delhi, and devoted himself to the cultivation of friendliness, not only between moslem and english, but also between moslem and hindu. this college is one of the strongest educational forces in north india. returning to hindu progress, we mark the work of such men as the swami vivekananda. it will be remembered that he represented india at our chicago parliament of religions, where joseph cook challenged the priests of the orient to answer lady macbeth's question, "who shall cleanse this red right hand?" vivekananda sought to blend christian philanthropy with the vedantic philosophy. identity with the supreme is to be attained, not only by passive contemplation, but also by active unselfish service. but this truth was mixed with strange interpretations of scripture. jesus' declaration, "i and my father are one," was made to mean, "every man and woman is god." and vivekananda was quite willing himself to be worshiped. his fundamental error, indeed, was his lack of the sense of sin. he said to his audience in chicago: "the hindus refuse to call you sinners. ye divinities on earth, sinners? it is a sin to call a man so. it is a standing libel on human nature." yet, in spite of this deification of self and of all humanity, he did much to inspire pity for the poor, to awaken india to self-consciousness, and to give hope of national unity. we must not ignore the work of the theosophical society, though it has made a name for itself more in europe and america than in india. while it has done something to encourage education and to teach modern science, it has used the knowledge thus given as an instrument in defending superstition. the immoralities of krishna are discussed and palliated in mrs. besant's magazine for the instruction of young students. charms, incantations, astrology, idolatry, caste, are all woven into the system, for the sake of propitiating the indian mind, so that its influence is hostile to christianity and to missions. idols are to be worshiped because they are "centers of magnetism." in england mrs. besant predicts a second advent of christ. but in india this becomes a new avatar of krishna. in spite of her stout denunciation of child-marriages and her inculcation of modern science, her propaganda has not been so much a reform of indian religion, as it has been a hindrance to reform. hindu devotees indeed have eulogized her for what they call her successful opposition to the proselyting efforts of christian missionaries. and yet, even the theosophical society, with all its absurdities of levitation and the astral body, has been compelled to bear some witness to jesus christ. he is "the light that lighteth every man," and he has given even to this system some elements of truth. we do not hesitate to recognize the truth that buddha and confucius, taught, and to regard it as a ray of christ's light shed forth before the rising of the sun. and it is our privilege to conclude our list of hindu reformers with the name of justice renade, who recognized in christ the source of all former revelations of god. justice renade, in his social reform movement of the last fifty years, has carried the spirit of philanthropy into practice, more fully than did vivekananda or mrs. besant, and without any of their fantastic self-exaltation. renade recognized the elements of truth in both the hindu and moslem systems, and he saw in christianity the influence destined to unite them. he would not throw away the old, but he would utilize it while he added the new. and with this acknowledgment that "he who is not against us is on our side," we may well close our sketch of reformers before the reformation. we sum up the lessons of history when we recognize in hinduism the two great ideas of divine immanence and incarnation, in mohammedanism the two equally essential truths of divine transcendence and personality. and we see the absolute dependence of india upon christianity for its true reformation. india needs the missionary more than she needs the schoolmaster. let us pray that she may have a religious revival that shall turn the intellectual awakening into moral channels. that religious revival will furnish a center of unity in christ, the one and only revealer of god; not in a hindu philosophy, nor in a moslem koran, but in a living person, present with all his people, the soul of their soul and the life, and imparting to them his own spirit of love and brotherhood. in christ alone can india's renaissance become a complete reformation. xv missions and scripture the world of scholars has recently been startled by the pretended discovery that the "great commission," "go ye therefore, and make disciples of all the nations," is not an utterance of jesus himself, but only one attributed to him by some enthusiastic follower of his in a later time. this pretended discovery is on a par with the earlier one that there never was such a person as jesus at all, but that his personality is simply a myth that gradually grew up in the minds of some jewish fanatics who sought a fulfilment of messianic prophecy. we might treat these perverse and subversive conclusions as only curious instances of a wrong method of criticism. but they filter down from the scholars to the masses of christian believers and weaken their faith. it becomes a duty to deal with the method which leads to such results, and threatens to destroy all our missionary zeal. hence i proceed to test the value of the method itself, even though it is commonly called "the historical method" by those who adopt it. if we can bear a somewhat roundabout way of treating the subject, we shall gain a new and valuable light upon our missionary theory and practice. to prevent misunderstanding, however, i must premise that it is the historical method as frequently employed, and not the historical method as it ought to be, to which i offer my objections. my criticism is directed against the historical method, only when it assumes to be the exclusive means of attaining truth, follows the methods of physical science, and ignores the far more important material for religious use which is furnished by intuition and revelation. the phrase "historical method" has come to imply much that does not properly belong to it. i criticize only its frequent exclusiveness and exaggeration. and i do this, as i think, in the interest of true science. there are two methods of reasoning possible, in this case or in any other case, and there are only two--i mean the deductive, and the inductive. i make no mention of argument from analogy, for that proceeds upon a deductive basis, presuming that there is a designed order in the world which makes analogy possible. the deductive method argues from the universal to the particular, from the higher to the lower, from god to man. the inductive method, on the other hand, argues from the particular to the universal, from the lower to the higher, from man to god. both of these methods are correct when each is taken in connection with the other. much depends, however, upon the question which is taken first. shall we begin with the particular, leaving out for the time all thought of the universal? there is danger that induction will come to be regarded as itself sufficient to lead us into the truth. this is a serious error, for correct induction presupposes deduction, and therefore deduction should be the guiding principle and safeguard of induction. if this is forgotten, induction may go fearfully astray. to make my meaning still more plain, let me say that in our investigations we need a comprehensive method, a method that will look at facts from more than one point of view. a truly historical method will look at facts from above, as well as from each side, and so the deductive process may be popularly described as vertical. the historical method falsely so called errs in confining its view to what can be seen immediately around it, and so its process is exclusively horizontal. deduction begins vertically, and makes that which comes from above to be its guide and standard in all inductive work. induction begins horizontally, and tends to become self-sufficient, until all light from above seems untrustworthy and useless. for example, take the study of nature. if one begins, inductively and horizontally, with mere physical and material order, instead of beginning, deductively and vertically, with man's higher powers of conscience and will, he will end by finding only impersonal force in the universe, and by practically deifying it, as the hindus deified brahma. begin rightly, and, with due care in the application of the deductive principle, he will come to right conclusions. there are certain truths which cannot be reached by induction. they are known by intuition, long before induction begins. the most fundamental of these truths is the truth of god's existence. a power above us, which has moral perfection, and which claims our obedience, is revealed to every man by conscience. begin with this knowledge, and to the obedient spirit the physical world seems ablaze with evidences of wisdom and love; the regularities of nature are recognized as god's methods of ordinary operation; evolution is only his usual plan of growth and progress; in other words, god's transcendence is manifest as well as his immanence, his personality as well as his revelation in the forces of the universe. man is a theist, before he becomes a christian. theism is a universal intuition, ready to assert itself in practice wherever it is not prevented by an evil will from its normal manifestation. but, because man is in an abnormal condition, this normal action of his powers can be restored only by the holy spirit. "when he is come," says our lord, "he will convince the world of sin, because they believe not on me," and "of righteousness, because i go unto the father." only when the prodigal repented, did he "come to himself," and begin to act normally. under the influence of the spirit, god's holiness reveals to man his sin, and god's love leads him to the feet of jesus. this is the first step in christian experience. to put my doctrine unmistakably and in a nutshell, deduction from the existence of god normally precedes and insures the acceptance of christ. the sinner comes to have personal knowledge of one who has atoned, and therefore can forgive. but to him who has accepted christ, his lord is more than a historical redeemer, he is a present saviour from both the penalty and the power of sin. without this personal knowledge of christ, we might think of him as only one of many human examples or teachers, like confucius or buddha. now, he is nothing less than god manifest in the flesh, omnipresent, omniscient, omnipotent, whom having seen we have seen the father. but there is a second step in christian experience, which i wish also to describe in a nutshell and to define as unmistakably as i described and defined the first. i claim that deduction from the existence of christ normally precedes and insures the acceptance of scripture. our lord himself has said, "my sheep hear my voice." the christian recognizes in scripture the voice of christ. no change in his experience is more marked and wonderful than the change in his estimate of the bible. a little time ago, scripture was commonplace and unmeaning. now it speaks to him with a living voice such words of instruction and comfort, of warning and promise, that his soul is filled alternately with sorrow and with joy. he wonders that he never saw these things before. he perceives for the first time that he has been in an abnormal condition of mind, and that condition has been due to his own perversity of will. but now the prodigal has "come to himself." only the holy spirit could have made possible this new and normal exercise of his powers. the change is not in the scripture, it is in himself. he has come in contact with a word of god that "liveth and abideth." he sees in it the divine workmanship. he can no longer regard scripture as merely the work of man; it is also the work of the same spirit who has transformed him, namely, the eternal christ. christ is the author and inspirer of scripture, even though imperfect human agents have been employed to communicate his revelation. in spite of the rudeness and diversity of the instruments, there breathes through them all a certain divine melody and harmony. while the inductive and horizontal method would give us only finite and earthly truth, the deductive and vertical can give us truth that is infinite and eternal. the indispensable condition of success in the interpretation of scripture is therefore a hearty belief that the bible is christ's revelation of god, and not merely a series of gropings after truth on the part of men. deduction will give us truth from above, whereas induction will give us only scattered facts on the horizontal plane. i am convinced that the so-called "historical method" of scripture interpretation, as it is usually employed, fails to secure correct results, because it proceeds wholly by induction, leaving out of its account the knowledge of christ which comes to the christian in his personal experience. i do not regard such a "historical method" as really historical; i deny that it discovers the original meaning of the documents; i claim that, when made the sole avenue of approach to truth, it leads to false views of doctrine. it assumes at the outset that what rules in the realm of physics rules also in the moral and religious realm. but the christian has learned that christ is the supreme source of truth. by a process of either conscious or unconscious deduction he recognizes in scripture the utterance of christ. he must begin his investigations with one of two assumptions: is the bible only man's word? or, is it also christ's word? is it a mere product of human intelligence? or, is it also the product of a divine intelligence, who indeed uses human and imperfect means of communication, but who nevertheless at sundry times and in divers manners has brought to the world the knowledge of salvation? i claim that we should begin by assuming that the bible is a revelation of christ. this assertion is justified, as i have already intimated, by our christian experience. that experience has given us a knowledge of the heart, more valuable in religious things than any mere knowledge of the intellect. doctor tholuck, in an address to his students at his fiftieth anniversary, said that god's greatest gift to him had been the knowledge of sin. without that conviction of sin which the spirit of christ can work in the human heart, there can be no proper understanding of scripture, for scripture is a revelation to sinners. the opening of the heart to receive christ, and the new sense of his pardoning grace and power, give to the converted man the key to the interpretation of scripture, for "the mystery of the gospel," the central secret of christianity, is "christ in you, the hope of glory." he whom the holy spirit has first led to the knowledge of sin, and has then led to the acceptance of christ, is prepared to enter into the meaning of scripture, and no other man can understand it. this was the way in which paul came to understand scripture. it was not by criticism of the documents, but by receiving christ, that "the light of the knowledge of the glory of god in the face of jesus christ" entered into his soul. he knew himself to be the chief of sinners. he knew christ as his manifested god and saviour. he applied to christ all that the old testament had revealed with regard to the dealings of god with his chosen people. the light that shone upon him on the way to damascus was the shekinah that led israel in the pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night, that dwelt over the mercy-seat in the tabernacle and in the temple, and that thundered and lightened from sinai in the giving of the law. "the rock that followed them" in the wilderness, and gave water to the thirsty, "that rock was christ." and so paul came to know jesus christ as preexistent and omnipresent, as redeemer of the whole world, gentile as well as jew; and christ's cross became the embodiment and symbol of god's amazing sorrow for human sin, and of his sacrifice for its cure. all paul's later conclusions were developments and expressions of his initial knowledge of christ. it was a deductive and not an inductive process, by which he arrived at his theology. lest any christian should say that the deductive method is impracticable to him, for the reason that he has had no such revelation of christ to start from as that which was given to paul, scripture reports to us the very different experience of another apostle. i refer to peter. peter shows us how, by this same deductive method, an experience which at its beginning is very small, may in the end become very great. peter goes to the banks of jordan, a sinner, seeking pardon for his sin. john the baptist points him to jesus, "behold the lamb of god, who taketh away the sin of the world." peter knows nothing of jesus' deity, nor of his atonement. but, by an instinct which is the best of logic, he is drawn to jesus, as the one who can satisfy his needs. he becomes a christian, that is, a follower of jesus. his experience is a sort of caterpillar; it can creep, but it cannot soar. yet all the elements of growth are in it. peter begins to analyze it. what right has he to surrender himself, body and soul, to a man like himself? the answer is: jesus is more than man. at cæsarea philippi, peter cries, "thou art the christ, the son of the living god." on the day of pentecost, he preaches christ as the saviour exalted to god's right hand. and finally, in his epistles, he declares the preexistence of christ, and the fact of christ's utterances through the prophets as far back in time as the days of noah. if our higher critics only adopted peter's method, analyzed their own experience, following on to know their lord and meantime willing to do his will, they too, like peter, in spite of small beginnings, would learn of jesus' doctrine, would emerge from the caterpillar state, would be soaring instead of creeping, and would end by gladly confessing that he who met them on the way in their first experience was none other than the omnipresent christ, whom paul describes as god manifest in the flesh, in whom dwelleth all the fulness of the godhead bodily. they would also learn, with peter, that scripture is the work and word of the preexistent christ. because this experience of sin and of christ is knowledge, it is material for science, for science is only unified knowledge. i do not deny that it is knowledge peculiar to the christian. the princes of physics and literature and government have not known it. it is not the wisdom of this world, but it is better, even the very wisdom of god. i glory in christian theology, as the science that will last, when all systems of merely physical science have passed away. for the man who has been saved by christ has knowledge of him who is creator, upholder, and life of all. i do not hesitate to say that the only safe interpreter of physical nature is the true christian, for it is christ "in whom all things consist." the true christian is the only safe interpreter of history, for it is christ who "upholds all things by the word of his power." and so, the true christian is the only safe interpreter of scripture, for it is christ whose spirit in the prophets "testified beforehand of his sufferings, and of the glories that should follow them." in him who is the lord of all "are all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge hidden." only when one is joined to christ, can he understand the evolutionary process through which christ has led the human race, or understand the bible which constitutes the historical record of that process. with the psalmist we may say, "in thy light shall we see light." as christ is the central object of knowledge in christian experience, it follows that christians recognize him as the primary author of scripture. they find him speaking to them in the bible, as in no other book. it becomes to them the word of god, given by divine inspiration, and able to make them wise unto salvation. from the deity and supremacy of christ they proceed to faith in the unity, the sufficiency, and the authority of scripture, and this determines their method of investigation. from the person of christ to the word of christ is a process often unconscious, but one better than any process of formal logic. knowing their divine saviour, they know the divinity of his word. his presence in human history and in the hearts of the righteous has given _unity_ to his continuous revelation. the scripture "cannot be broken," or interpreted as a promiscuous congeries of separate bits; for a divine intelligence and life throb through the whole collection. like railway coupons, its texts are "not good if detached." we must interpret each text by its context, each part by the whole, the preparation of salvation by the fulfilment, and all the diverse contents by him who weaves all together, even christ, the end of the law, to whom all the preliminaries point. this method gives room for the most thorough investigation of the times and ways of revelation, for recognizing the imperfection of beginnings and the variety of the product. the bible is a gradually accumulated literature, hebraic in form, but universal in spirit. the preexistent christ has made all this literature one, by the influence in the sacred writers of his omnipresent spirit. if the "historical method" would begin with this postulate of a unifying christ, its method would be more safe and its results more sure. faith in an eternal and omnipresent christ guarantees also the _sufficiency_ of scripture. here, however, there is an obvious limitation. scripture is not sufficient for all the kinds and purposes of human science. it will not tell us the configuration of the hinder side of the moon, nor reveal the future uses of electricity. it is not with such things that scripture deals. but in religious matters, such as our relation to god and salvation, it is sufficient as a rule of faith and practice. we may find in it all needful models and helps in the divine life, as well as all needful directions about the way to begin it. the church of christ has always found in the bible a safe guide for her polity and conduct, and civil government has prospered when the principles of scripture were followed by the powers that ruled the state. because the christian believes the bible to be the product of men inspired by christ, he can send it out by the million copies as equal to the moral and spiritual needs of the world. and because christ is, through his imperfect agents, the real author of scripture, we believe in its absolute _authority_. when rightly interpreted, however. it will never do to treat poetry as if it were prose, or drama as if it were history, or allegory as if it were fact. christ can use, and he has used, all the common methods of literary composition, and he expects us to use common sense in dealing with them. but out of the whole can be evolved a consistent doctrine and an authoritative law. the one and only way of salvation is plainly that of faith in god's provision of pardon and life in christ. in spite of many divergences, the great body of christians throughout the ages have agreed in their recognition of the personality and the deity of the father, the son, and the holy spirit; of the incarnation and the atonement of christ; of his resurrection and his lordship; of his omnipresence with his people even to the end of the world. they have expressed this agreement in the apostles' creed and in the hymnology of the church. but the great body of instructed christians also believe in christ as the revealer of god in nature and in history; as "the light that lighteth every man" in conscience and tradition; and as the righteous judge who accepts in every nation those who fear god and work righteousness, casting themselves as sinners upon the divine mercy even though they do not yet know that this divine mercy is only another name for christ. the bible, as a whole and when rightly interpreted, is absolute authority, because it is the word of christ; and christ holds each of us, as individuals, to the duty and the privilege of interpreting the bible for himself. it seems to me plain that this method of interpreting scripture in the light of the christian's experience of christ, is not "the historical method," as it is usually employed. this latter method seems to ignore the relation of scripture to christ, and to proceed in its investigations as if there were no preexistent christ to furnish its principle. it insists upon treating scripture as it would treat any unreligious or heathen literature, and with no relation to its divine authorship. it sees in scripture only a promiscuous collection of disjointed documents, with no living tie to bind them together, and no significance beyond that of the time in which they were written. it would treat the bible as a man-made book, or rather, as a man-made series of books, regardless of the fact that the plural "biblia," which once represented the thought of the church, has, under the influence of the divine spirit, become "biblion" or bible, a singular, and a proof that christian consciousness has not been satisfied with rationalistic explanations, but has followed its natural impulses by attributing unity to the word of christ its saviour. the separate "words" have been felt to constitute the one "word of god," an organic whole, which fitly represents the eternal "word," of whom it is the voice and expression. scripture is not a congeries of earth-born fragments, but an organism, pulsating with divine life. the "historical method" of which i speak can never find that life, because it works only on the physical and horizontal plane, ignoring the light which comes deductively from above, and also the darkening and blinding influences which often operate unconsciously from below. xvi scripture and missions the "historical method" of scripture interpretation, as it is often employed, ends without christ, because it begins without him. one of its fundamental principles is that each passage of scripture is to be interpreted solely in the light of the knowledge and intent of the person who wrote it. the one hundred and tenth psalm, for example, can have no reference to christ, because the writer knew no other than the jewish king whose accession and whose power he anticipates. the psalm reads, "jehovah said unto my lord, sit thou on my right hand, until i make thine enemies thy footstool." the so-called historical critics would make any interpretation of this passage as a designed prophecy of christ to be an unwarranted accommodation of it to a meaning which it did not originally bear, and the conclusion is that we are wrong in citing these words as an old testament assertion of christ's deity. but, unfortunately for this method of interpretation, we have, in the gospels of matthew and of mark, our lord's own reference of this passage, not simply to some jewish ruler of olden time, but to the coming messiah, and since he was himself the messiah, he refers it by implication to himself. he does not deny, but rather grants, a primary reference of the psalm to a son of david, for david was a king, and his son would be a king. but he also sees in the psalm a prophecy that this son of david would be a king whom david would call lord. his searching examination propounds to the unbelieving jews the question, "what think ye of the christ? whose son is he?" and they say, "the son of david." he answers them by asking, "how then doth david, in the spirit, call him lord?" in other words, inspiration declares messiah to be a king of kings, and a lord of lords. since the whole discussion is one with regard to the nature and claims of the messiah, and since the messiah is not a mere man like david, but is seated on the throne with jehovah and is david's lord, christ's answer is an assertion of his own deity. his answer antedates, even if it did not suggest, paul's later description of christ, as "declared to be the son of god with power, according to the spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead." but the higher critics differ in opinion from the lord jesus. they extricate themselves from their difficulty by suggesting that jesus, like other men, was subject to the errors of his time. and so, not only christ's knowledge of scripture and his authority as its interpreter are denied, but also his knowledge of his own nature and place in the universe. if his knowledge of things so essential be denied, what trust can we place in any other of his utterances? to those who reason in this way, christ cannot possibly be divine--he is only a fallible man, self-deceived, and so, deceiving others. the fault of the critics lies in their presupposition. they have begun wrongly, by leaving out the primary fact in the subject they investigate, namely, that the preincarnate christ was the author and inspirer of the scripture which he afterward interpreted. he used human agents, with their natural language and surroundings, as his instruments, but he could, on the way to emmaus, "beginning from moses and all the prophets," interpret to those humble believers "in all the scriptures the things concerning himself." scripture can have, and it does have, two authors, man and god, the writer and christ; and to ignore christ in the evolution of the bible is to miss its chief meaning, to teach falsehood instead of truth, and, consciously or unconsciously, to deny christ's deity. cannot a document have more than one author? what are the facts in other realms of art? in painting, did not landseer get millais to paint the human figure into the picture of his dogs? in literature, is there any more acknowledged fact than that erckmann-chatrian's battle-stories were the work of two writers, and not of one? the work of a single author may have two separate meanings, for dante declares that his divine comedy has one meaning that is personal, and another meaning that is universal. our extreme critics are as poor students of literature as they are of life. their narrowness of interpretation is due to a narrowness of experience. if they knew christ better, they would find in the twenty-third psalm alone enough proof to upset their theory. "the lord is my shepherd, i shall not want," is an utterance inexplicable by merely human authorship. to suppose that even a king of israel who had been a shepherd-boy could have written this psalm without divine inspiration, in a day when all lands but little palestine were wrapt in a pall of heathen darkness, is to suppose that religion can exist and flourish without a god. "the testimony of jesus," says the book of revelation, "is the spirit of prophecy." it was the recognition of constant references to christ in the old testament, that enabled the apostles to convince and convert the unbelieving jews. the absence of this recognition is the secret of all the minimizing of christ's attributes which is so rife in our day. do men believe in christ's deity who ignore his promise to be with them to the end of the world, and who refuse to address him in prayer? could one of these modern interpreters have taken the place of philip, when he met the ethiopian eunuch? that dignitary had been reading the prophecy of isaiah, "he was led as a lamb to the slaughter." "of whom speaketh the prophet this? of himself, or of some other?" "and philip opened his mouth, and preached unto him _jesus._" our modern critics call this an unwarranted interpretation, because isaiah had no knowledge of christ. and yet, john tells us that "isaiah saw his glory, and spake of him." the critics contradict john again, when they say that we must put no meaning into isaiah's words but that of his own time. his great prophecy of a suffering messiah, they say, had reference only to jehoiachin, the captive king of judah, or to the whole jewish nation as the afflicted people of god. philip and the critics are evidently at variance. if we accept their method, we shall lose all reference in the old testament to the atonement of christ, and all proof that the sacrifice on calvary was that of "the lamb slain from before the foundation of the world." reverse the process, and we can still say, the holy, meek, unspotted lamb, who from the father's bosom came for me and for my sins to atone, him for my lord and god i own. it is needless to multiply instances of this failure to interpret the old testament aright. let me call attention to the effect of this method upon the interpretation of the new testament, for the authority of the new testament is also undermined. the system of typical interpretation, which sees in christ the reality prefigured in old testament shadows, is discredited as unscientific. the whole epistle to the hebrews is thrown out, as a poetical clothing of "the man of nazareth" with the fading glories of an outworn worship. the idea that the high priest of old who entered the holy of holies once a year not without blood, and the whole jewish system of which this formed the central feature, were a divinely ordered prefiguration of christ's atoning sacrifice for the sins of men--this idea is called a mere human addition to historical truth. christ is no longer our great high priest. his priesthood is mere metaphor, without divine warrant or authority. he is not our prophet, nor our king, for his prophecies are not fulfilled, and his kingdom is only that of a moral teacher and example. and all this, in spite of the fact that the epistle to the hebrews bears upon its front the declaration that "god, who in past times spoke to the fathers through the prophets, has in these last days spoken through his son," whom this same epistle then proceeds to describe as the effulgence of god's glory and the very image of his substance, the creator, upholder, and redeemer of the world, the same yesterday, to-day, and forever. i do not undervalue the historical method, when it is kept free from this agnostic presupposition that only man is the author of scripture. this method has given us some information as to the authorship of the sacred books, and it has in some degree helped in their interpretation. i am free to acknowledge my own obligation to it. i grant the composite documentary view of the pentateuch and of its age-long days of creation, while i still hold to its substantially mosaic authorship. i say this, however, with deference, for a university president of note, when asked about the stories of cain and abel, replied that no such persons in all probability ever lived, but that the account was still valuable, since it taught the great moral lesson that it is highly improper for a man to murder his brother! i grant that there may be more than one isaiah, while yet i see in the later isaiah a continuance of the divine revelation given through the earlier. any honest christian, i would say, has the right to interpret jonah and daniel as allegories, rather than as histories. i can look upon the book of job as a drama, while i still assert that job was a historical character. i can see in the song of solomon the celebration of a pure human love, while at the same time i claim that the song had divinely injected into it the meaning that union with christ is the goal and climax of all human passion. in short, i take the historical method as my servant and not my master; as partially but not wholly revealing the truth; as showing me, not how man made the scripture for himself, but how god made the scripture through the imperfect agency of man. so i find _unity_ in the scriptures, because they are the work of the omnipresent and omniscient christ: i find _sufficiency_ in the scriptures, because they satisfy every religious need of the individual and of the church; i find _authority_ in the scriptures, because, though coming through man, they are, when taken together and rightly interpreted, the veritable word of god. i denounce the historical method, only when it claims to be the solely valid method of reaching truth, and so, leaves out the primary agency and determining influence of christ. what sort of systematic theology is left us, when the perverted historical method is made the only clue to the labyrinth of scripture? there is but one answer: no such thing as systematic theology is possible. science is knowledge, and to have a system you must have unified knowledge. the historical method so called can see no unity in scripture, because it does not carry with it the primary knowledge of christ. it simply applies in its investigations the principles of physical science. physical science begins with the outward and visible, not with the inward and spiritual, with matter and not with mind. laplace swept the heavens with his telescope, but he said that he nowhere found a god. he might just as well have swept his kitchen with a broom, and then complained that he could not find god there. god is not stars, nor dust. god is spirit, and he is not to be apprehended by the senses. laplace should have taken man's conscience and will for his starting-point. and just as physical science can find no god in the universe by the use of the forceps and the microscope, so this historical method can find no christ in the scriptures, because it looks there for only human agency. the result is that it finds only a collection of seemingly contradictory fragments, with no divine spirit to harmonize them and bind them together. its method is purely inductive, whereas its induction should always be guided by a knowledge of christ, gained before investigation begins, and furnishing the basis for a deductive process as well. differentiation and not harmonization is its rule, and this makes its criticism destructive rather than constructive. many a passage is set aside, because it will not fit in with a skeptical interpretation. christ's own words with regard to his being "a ransom for many," and with regard to his having "all power committed to him in heaven and in earth," are held to be later words attributed to him by his followers. the whole new testament story comes to be regarded as a mythical growth, like that which gradually placed haloes about the heads of the apostles. the gospel of john is not accepted as historical, but is said to be a work of the second century. jesus, it is said, never himself claimed to be the messiah, since it is only john who reports his saying to the woman of samaria, "i that speak unto thee am he." paul is set aside, as being the author of a rabbinical theology which has no claim upon us; and that, in spite of christ's own declaration that there were many things which he could not teach while he was here in the flesh, but which he would teach, by his spirit, after his resurrection, and ascension. prof. kirsopp lake, in a recent address before the harvard divinity school, deprecated the use of the term "theology." "theology," he said, "presupposes divine revelation, which we do not accept." he proposed the term "philosophy," as expressive of the aim of the unitarian school. this is honest and plain. what shall we say of those who speak of the "new emphasis" needed in modern theology, when they really mean that the preaching of the old doctrines of sin and salvation must give place to "another gospel" of cooperative christian work? from their neglect to put any further emphasis upon "the faith once for all delivered to the saints," we can only infer that, for their structure of doctrine, no other foundation than philosophy is needed, and that they, like the unitarians, no longer accept the fact of a divine revelation. "other foundation can no man lay than that which is laid, which is jesus christ," and to lay greater emphasis upon the fruits of christianity than upon its roots, is to insult christ, and ultimately to make christianity itself only one of many earth-born religions, powerless like them either to save the individual soul or to redeem society. professor lake is quite right: if there is no divine revelation, there can be, not only no systematic theology, but no theology at all. what is the effect of this method upon our theological seminaries? it is to deprive the gospel message of all definiteness, and to make professors and students disseminators of doubts. many a professor has found teaching preferable to preaching, because he lacked the initial christian experience which gives to preaching its certainty and power. he chooses the line of least resistance, and becomes in the theological seminary a blind leader of the blind. having no system of truth to teach, he becomes a mere lecturer on the history of doctrine. having no key in christ to the unity of scripture, he becomes a critic of what he is pleased to call its fragments, that is, the dissector of a cadaver. ask him if he believes in the preexistence, deity, virgin birth, miracles, atoning death, physical resurrection, omnipresence, and omnipotence of christ, and he denies your right to require of him any statement of his own beliefs. he does not conceive it to be his duty to furnish his students with any fixed conclusions as to doctrine but only to aid them in coming to conclusions for themselves. the apostle paul was not so reticent. he was not ashamed of the gospel of christ, but rather gloried in it. he even pronounced his anathema upon any who taught other doctrine. it is no wonder that our modern critics cry, "back to christ," for this means, "away from paul." the result of such teaching in our seminaries is that the student, unless he has had a pauline experience before he came, has all his early conceptions of scripture and of christian doctrine weakened, has no longer any positive message to deliver, loses the ardor of his love for christ, and at his graduation leaves the seminary, not to become preacher or pastor as he had once hoped, but to sow his doubts broadcast, as teacher in some college, as editor of some religious journal, as secretary of some young men's christian association, or as agent of some mutual life insurance company. this method of interpretation switches off upon some side-track of social service many a young man who otherwise would be a heroic preacher of the everlasting gospel. the theological seminaries of almost all our denominations are becoming so infected with this grievous error, that they are not so much organs of christ, as they are organs of antichrist. this accounts for the rise, all over the land, of bible schools, to take the place of the seminaries. the evil is coming in like a flood, and the spirit of the lord will surely raise up a standard against it. but oh the pity! that money given by godly men to provide preachers of the gospel should be devoted to undermining the christian cause! what is the effect of this method of interpretation upon the churches of our denomination? it is to cut the tap-root of their strength, and to imperil their very existence. baptist churches are founded upon scripture. their doctrine of regenerate church-membership, and of church ordinances as belonging only to believers, presupposes an authoritative rule of faith and practice in the new testament. in controversy with other denominations we have always appealed "to the law and to the testimony," and we have declared that, if other faiths "speak not according to this word, surely there is no morning for them." we have held that the authority of scripture is not an arbitrary authority, but that the ordinances have so much of meaning that to change their form is to destroy them altogether. we stand for immersion as the only real baptism, not because much water is better than little water, but because baptism is the symbol of christ's death, burial, and resurrection, and the symbol also of our spiritual death, burial, and resurrection with him. when we are "buried with him in baptism," we show forth his death, just as we show forth his death in the lord's supper. to change the form of the lord's supper so as to leave out all reference to the breaking of christ's body and the shedding of his blood, would be to break down one great visible monument and testimony to christ's atoning death, and to destroy the lord's supper itself. and to change the form of baptism so as to leave out its symbolism of christ's death, burial, and resurrection, is to break down another great visible monument and testimony to christ's essential work, and to destroy the ordinance of baptism. only the surrender of belief in the authority of scripture, and a consequent ignoring of the meaning of baptism can explain the proposal to give us our requisition of immersion. the weakness of our denomination in such cities as new york results from the acceptance of the method of scripture interpretation which i have been criticizing. we are losing our faith in the bible, and our determination to stand for its teachings. we are introducing into our ministry men who either never knew the lord, or who have lost their faith in him and their love for him. the unbelief in our seminary teaching is like a blinding mist which is slowly settling down upon our churches, and is gradually abolishing, not only all definite views of christian doctrine, but also all conviction of duty to "contend earnestly for the faith" of our fathers. so we are giving up our polity, to please and to join other denominations. if this were only a lapse in denominationalism, we might call it a mere change in our ways of expressing faith. but it is a far more radical evil. it is apostasy from christ and revolt against his government. it is refusal to rally to christ's colors in the great conflict with error and sin. we are ceasing to be evangelistic as well as evangelical, and if this downward progress continues, we shall in due time cease to exist. this is the fate of unitarianism to-day. we baptists must reform, or die. what is the effect of this method of interpretation upon missions? i have just come from an extensive tour in mission fields. i have visited missionaries of several denominations. i have found those missions most successful which have held to the old gospel and to the polity of the new testament. but i have found a growing tendency to depend upon education, rather than upon evangelism. what would peter have said on the day of pentecost, if you had advised him not to incur the wrath of the jews by his preaching, but to establish schools, and to trust to the gradual enlightenment of the jewish nation by means of literature? he might have replied that our lord made it his first duty to "make disciples," and only afterwards to "teach them to observe all things which he had commanded." christian schools and christian teaching are necessary in their place, but they are second, not first. our lack at home of the right interpretation of scripture, and our fading knowledge in experience of the presence and power of christ, have gone from us round the world. some boards are sending out as missionaries young men who lack definite views of doctrine. these young men, having nothing positive to preach, choose rather to teach in the english language, in schools where english is spoken, rather than preach in the native language which requires a lifetime of study. when they teach, they cannot help revealing their mental poverty, and disturbing the simple faith of their pupils. having no certainty themselves, they can inspire no certainty in others, for "if the trumpet gives no certain sound, who will arm himself for the battle?" these unprepared and inefficient teachers may become themselves converted through their very sense of weakness in presence of the towering systems of idolatry and superstition around them. but if they are not so converted, they will handicap the mission and paralyze its influence. some of our best missionaries have said to me, "the lord deliver us from such helpers!" no man has a right to go, and no board has a right to send, as a missionary, one who has not had such a personal experience of christ as will enable him to stand against this unscientific and unchristian method of scripture interpretation. this so-called "historical method" has effects on the missionary cause at home, as well as in the lands far away. "how shall they preach, except they be sent?" the sending of missionaries is dependent upon the zeal and liberality of the churches in our land. but how can one who is not sure that jesus ever uttered the words of the great commission urge the churches to fulfil that command of christ? how can one who has never felt his own need of an atonement adjure his brethren, by christ's death for their sins, not to let the heathen perish? how can one who has had no experience of christ as a present and divine saviour, have power to stand against the rationalism and apathy of the church? this method of scripture interpretation makes evangelism an enterprise of fanatics not sufficiently educated to know that buddha and confucius were teachers of truth long before the time of christ. can we more surely dry up the sources of missionary contributions, than by yielding to the pernicious influence of this way of treating scripture? we have gone far already in the wrong direction. our churches are honeycombed with doubt and with indifference. the preaching of the old gospel of sin and salvation seems almost a thing of the past. people have itching ears that will not endure sound doctrine. the dynamic of missions is love for christ, who died to save us from the guilt and power of sin. modern criticism has to a large extent nullified this dynamic, and if the authority of scripture is yet further weakened, we may look for complete collapse in our supplies both of men and of money. in fact, the faith and the gifts of many converts from among the heathen already so far exceed the average faith and gifts of our churches at home, that the time may come when burma and the congo may have to send missionaries to us, as we are now sending missionaries to the land where the seven churches of asia once flourished. whence has come this so-called "historical method" of interpreting scripture? i answer: it was "made in germany." german scholarship for a century past has been working almost exclusively on the horizontal plane, and has been ignoring the light that comes from above. the theology of great britain and of america has been profoundly affected by the application of its evolutionary and skeptical principles. in germany itself the honesty of every scripture writer has been questioned, and every sacred document has been torn into bits. when the all-pervading presence and influence of christ in the bible is lost sight of, and its separate fragments are examined to discover their meaning, there is no guide but the theory of evolution; and evolution, instead of being the ordinary method of a personal god, is itself personified and made the only power in the universe. the regularities of nature, it is thought, leave no room for miracle. there is no divine will that can work down upon nature in unique acts, such as incarnation and resurrection. a pantheistic force is the only ruler, and whatever is, is right. goethe led the way in this pagan philosophy, and german universities have been full of it ever since. it is painful to see how german theologians and ministers have been won over to the ethics of brute force and the practical, deification of mere might in human affairs. the new testament has been interpreted as justifying implicit obedience to "the powers that be," even when they turn the kaiser into a military despot and his people into unresisting and deluded slaves. an exaggerated nationalism has taken the place of human solidarity, and a selfish domination of the world has become the goal of national ambition. all the atrocities of this war might have been spared us, if the nations of which germany is the most conspicuous offender had derived their ethics and their practice from the divine love which rules above, rather than from the seeming necessity of competing with the nations around them. a new interpretation of scripture is needed to set the world right. but as germany will never be convinced that the worship of force is vain, until she sees herself plunged in defeat and ruin, so the advocates of this so-called historical method will never make deduction a primary part of their procedure, and will never take the eternal christ as their key to scripture interpretation, until christ himself shall by a second spiritual advent enter into their hearts and dissipate their doubts, as he did when he showed himself to paul on the way to damascus. i have tried to point out the inherent error of the method to which i have been objecting, and to show its ill effects upon systematic theology, upon our theological seminaries, upon our baptist churches, and upon our missionary work abroad and at home. i have intimated that the influence of this perverse treatment of holy writ may be seen even in the present internecine conflict in which the professedly christian nations are engaged. i shall very naturally be asked what remedy i propose for so deep-seated and widespread an evil. i can only answer that i see no permanent cure but the second coming of christ. but do not misunderstand me. i am no premillennarian of the ordinary sort. indeed, i am as much a post-millennialist, as i am a premillennialist. i believe that both interpretations of prophecy have their rights, and, believing also as i do that scripture is a unity and that its seeming contradictions can be harmonized, i hold that christ's spiritual coming precedes the millennium, but that his visible and literal coming follows the millennium. i therefore look for such a spiritual coming into the hearts of his people, as shall renew their faith, fulfil their joy, and answer to the prediction of "the rapture of the saints." in other words, i look for a mighty revival of religion, which will set the churches on their old foundation, and endow them with power to subdue the world. this war seems to me god's second great demonstration of man's inability to save himself, and his need of divine power to save him. as the ancient world and its history were god's demonstration of human sin, and of man's need of christ's first advent, so this war is god's proof that science and philosophy, literature and commerce, are not sufficient for man's needs, and that christ must again come, if our modern world is ever to be saved. "in the fulness of time" christ's first advent occurred. "in the fulness of time" christ's second advent will occur. but not until humanity, weary of its load, cries out for its redemption. "how long, o lord, how long?" "it is not for us to know the times which the father has set within his own authority." but it is ours to believe in christ's promise, and to pray for its speedy fulfilment. and so, i beg you to join with me in the one prayer with which our book of scripture closes, namely, "lord jesus, come quickly!" xvii the theology of missions "the spirit of man is the candle of the lord." yes, a candle, but a candle not yet lighted, a candle which will never be light nor give light, till it is touched by a divine flame. so said doctor parkhurst. was his interpretation of scripture correct? he drew from the proverb the conclusion that man has a religious nature, not in the sense that he is actually religious, but only in the sense that he has a capacity for religion. doctor parkhurst would say that man is actually religious only when he knows the true god and worships him in spirit and in truth. to that god he is by nature and by sinful habit blind. he can be light and give light, only after god has enlightened him by special revelation. his nature is a candle unlighted, until god touches it with his divine flame. what is the truth in this matter? the months i have spent in these heathen lands have made deep impression upon me, and the problem of heathenism has loomed up before me as never before. when one sees thousands prostrating themselves in a mohammedan mosque and chanting in unison their ascription of greatness to god, or when one sees a hindu devotee so absorbed in his prayer to a senseless idol that he is unconscious of the kicks and shouts of the passers-by, one comes to realize that man must have a god. the religious instinct is a part of his nature. it is more than a mere capacity for religion. it is active as well as passive. in some sort the candle is already burning. it burns at certain times and places with a fierce and demonic glow. when i saw in calcutta, so recently the capital of india, a priestess of the temple of kali, cutting into bits the flesh and entrails of sheep in order that the poorest worshiper might have for his farthing some bloody fragment to offer at the shrine of that hideous and lustful and cruel goddess, i felt sure that, though the candle is burning, it is not always because it has been touched by a divine flame. there are other powers than god's at work in this universe. doctor parkhurst's explanation of the scripture text is not sufficient. he acknowledges only a part of the truth. the candle is giving already a dim and lurid light. man is blindly worshiping, groping in the dark, bowing to imaginary deities, the products of his own imagination, the work of his own hands. we must go even farther than this, and concede that here and there among these crowds of worshipers there may be one who is a sincere seeker after god and, according to the light that he has, is trying honestly to serve him. i do not mean a selfish service of ignorant and earthly passion, but a service prompted by some elementary knowledge of the true god, gained by contemplation of his works in nature or from the needs of his own soul revealed in conscience. surely there was truth and sincerity in the worship of socrates, of epictetus, of marcus aurelius. the patriarchs had knowledge of god and walked with god, long before christ came. and scripture itself declares that in every nation he that fears god and works righteousness is accepted by him. david brainerd found among the american indians a man who for years had separated himself from the wickedness of his people, and had devoted himself to doing them good. now and then our missionaries find a heathen whose strivings after god have been prompted by a sense of sin, and whose worship must have been accepted by the god of love. though there is "none other name given among men whereby we may be saved," we cannot doubt that every man who feels himself to be a sinner, and casts himself upon god's mercy for salvation, does really though unconsciously cast himself upon christ, the lamb of god who takes away the sin of the world, and so joins himself to christ by the teaching and power of christ's spirit, as to be saved in some measure from the dominion of sin here and from the penalty of sin hereafter. i am a believer in the unity, the sufficiency, and the authority of scripture--in its unity, when the parts are put together in their historical connections and with the key to their meaning furnished us in christ; in its sufficiency, as a rule of religious faith and practice; and in its authority, when rightly interpreted with the aid of the holy spirit. so i am prepared to find in the first chapter of paul's epistle to the romans the true philosophy of heathenism, and the reconciliation of the otherwise seemingly conflicting utterances of scripture with regard to the religious nature of man. i learn that god made man upright, and endowed him with at least a childlike knowledge of himself. but early humanity sought out many inventions, did not wish to retain god in its knowledge, and substituted for the true god creatures of its own imagination. in other words, the scriptural explanation of heathenism is found in an original ancestral sin, in which the human race departed from the true god and gave itself up to the worship, first, of impersonal nature-powers, and then, of the polytheistic personifications of these powers which naturally followed. modern heathenism is the result of an abnormal and downward evolution. many students of comparative religion have forgotten that evolution is oftener to lower forms than to higher. many a species in the history of life has first become degenerate, and then has become extinct. the shores of time are strewn with wrecks, and one of these wrecks is human nature. paul gives us only the logical and moral interpretation of a biological fact, when he declares that in consequence of man's departure from god, god gave man over to the dominion of his own passions, in order that the shame and guilt of his vile affections might awaken his conscience and lead him to cry for mercy and redemption. modern heathenism, still surviving in this age of enlightenment, shows how sin can blind the intellect and harden the heart. when men worship demons of cruelty and lust instead of god, they reveal the depravity as well as the ignorance of human nature in its downward evolution. the candle has been lighted indeed, but it has been touched with the flames of hell. when god made man in his own image, it was only wheat that he sowed in his field. the evil decision of man has furnished the tares, and their history has been a history of downward evolution. but side by side with this downward evolution there has been an upward evolution of divine grace. the tares have been suffered to grow, but only that there might be demonstrated the power of the wheat to root them out. and from the very beginning christ has been the author and principle of the true evolution. he who created the race has been its preserver, instructor, and saviour. humanity, in its warring and its lust, would long since have become extinct, if it had not been for the presence in it of a divine life and light. that life and light were the life and light of the preincarnate christ. he is "the light that lighteth every man," and "his life was the light of men." jonathan edwards did not go too far, when he recognized in all natural beauty and goodness the work of christ. the sunset clouds were painted by the hand of christ, and it is he whose glory is celebrated by the cannonading of the autumn storm over the grave of summer. all the light of conscience is his light; all the progress of science is his revelation. it was he who led the children of israel by a pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night, and who thundered and lightened from sinai at the giving of the law. "the rock that followed" the chosen people through the wilderness and gave them drink "was christ." every reform within the bounds of heathenism has been due to him. confucius and buddha, so far as they uttered truth, were his messengers. he has never left humanity without a witness to the power and goodness of god. while men have been seeking an unknown god, he has been that very god whom they were seeking, and it is he who has incited them to feel after him and find him. his light has shined in the darkness, and the darkness has comprehended it not, though in him we live and move and have our being. so there is evolution of good, side by side with the evolution of evil. we may recognize truth in heathen systems, while we deplore their errors, for christ himself is the truth. it is the single grain of truth in these systems that has given them all their power. they never could have maintained their hold upon the world, if they had not appealed to some good instincts of the human heart. a coin made wholly of lead will never pass for a dollar. it must have a little washing of silver to give it any sort of currency. but it is a counterfeit, for all its silver washing. so these heathen systems have their grain of truth, but they are false and soul-destroying all the same. let us recognize candidly the grains of truth which they contain, for these are witnesses to the indwelling christ who has not left humanity wholly to itself. and let us make these grains of truth our gateways of access to the heathen heart, while we show the heathen the larger and fuller truth as it is in jesus. christ alone can solve the problems of the world and reconcile the warring elements of humanity. he is our peace, who hath made jew and gentile one, having broken down the middle wall of partition, and having made of the twain one new man, reconciling both to god through the blood of his cross. he can make all sects, all parties, all castes, all nations one; because in him are all the elements of truth which each possesses, without any mixture of their errors. in him there will be no longer barbarian, scythian, bond nor free, male nor female, for he will bind all together by virtue of their union with himself. the hindu, for example, has the truth of god's immanence, but he turns it into falsehood by denying the correlative and equally important truth of god's transcendence, making god to be a mere nature-force without personality, while scripture recognizes in god both immanence and transcendence, sees god in all things and through all things, yet above all things. the hindu has also the truth of god's incarnation, but he turns it into error, by denying the permanence of that incarnation, the divine incarnation in krishna or buddha being only a temporary assumption of humanity which he leaves behind him when he reascends to his heaven, while christ takes our human nature into perpetual union with himself and makes it sit down with him upon his throne. the moslem, on the other hand, believes in god's unity and transcendence, but denies his immanence. his god is far away, not only physically but also morally, for he is without justice or love. the moslem holds stoutly to the truth of god's personality; but he denies the manifestation of that personality in christ, and also christ's personal presence with all believers. only christ can break down the middle wall of partition between hindu and moslem, for he alone has the all-inclusive truth that will unite them both. and so of all divisions of caste, of color, of party, of denomination, and of nationality, for he alone is the way, the truth, and the life, supremely and absolutely fitted to be the bringer of peace to the world. there is yet another reason why christ alone can save. let us remember always that error is the result of sin, and that before the power of sin can be broken, the penalty of sin must be removed. in the heart of man is an inextinguishable sense of guilt, and an equally inextinguishable thirst for reparation. it is the forebodings of conscience that make death terrible. blind the eyes and harden the heart, if you will. the accusations of conscience will be like writings in invisible ink, that come out clear and threatening in times of introspection and of sober judgment. as shakespeare says, their great guilt like poison given to work a great time after, now 'gins to bite the spirits. the greatest chasm is between their souls and god, and they must have peace with god, before they can have peace with men. christ is our peace, therefore, first of all, because he makes atonement for our sins, pays our debts to justice, and sets our conscience free from guilt. christ is the lamb of god who takes away the sin of the whole world, making peace by the blood of his cross. having made our peace with god, he makes peace in our warring powers of conscience and will, and then brings about peace in our relations with others. as he made man at the first of one blood, so he will at last bring all the nations back into one brotherhood of holiness and love. there is a moral theology, as well as a doctrinal theology. the moral follows the doctrinal, and shows in practice that the doctrine is truth and not error. paul includes this moral teaching in his epistle to the romans. at the beginning of his twelfth chapter he passes from his discussion of justification by faith to speak of the proper effects of faith in the christian life: "i beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of god, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice." then comes the noblest summary of duty to be found in all literature. all manner of social service is enjoined, while the presupposition of that service is ever held to be the sacrifice of christ on our behalf and the regenerating grace of god in the christian heart. how much the heathen world needs this part of the gospel, only some knowledge of the shameful vices of the orient can reveal to us. the first chapter of that same epistle is a correct picture of the heathen world of to-day. a pure life, which is also a life lived for others, is something which surpasses the power of confucius or buddha to produce or to maintain. such lives in the churches of mission lands are the weightiest arguments for christianity. but conversion to christ goes, in its influence, farther than the individual. it has a far-reaching social influence. it lifts up the whole family, the whole class, the whole caste, making its members intelligent, efficient, trustworthy, as many british officials in india gladly bear witness. christianity seems likely to give the sudras precedence of the brahmans in civil and political affairs, so that in one case at least the meek shall inherit the earth. the kingdom of god, however, can never win its triumphs solely by external reforms. in order to obtain the fruits of education, morality, and self-government, you must first have christian faith rooted in the soil. applications of christianity are necessary, and they are to be earnestly sought, but it will be vain to seek them, if we have no christianity to apply. the tendency in our missions to put the main stress upon physical and social agencies, to the detriment of simple gospel preaching, is sure to be disappointing in its results. it is like trying to light a coal-fire by putting your kindlings on top. it is like beginning at the roof, and building down to the foundation; or like first purifying the stream, and afterwards the fountain. society is made up of individuals, and regeneration of the individual must precede all social renovation. the old gospel, with regard to sin and salvation, is the only gospel that will save the heathen world; and the living, personal christ, with his atoning blood and his renewing spirit, is the only power that can bring about permanent reformation of social evils and the establishment of the kingdom of god in the individual, in the nation, and in the world. that this is the true theology of missions, the history of missions is the best of all proofs. we need not only to touch the intellect, but also to touch the heart. we need to furnish a motive that will win to action the sluggish and selfish devotees of systems century-old that have enslaved them. one message, and one only, has accomplished this result, and that is the message of the cross. not the presentation of god's greatness and power, but the story of the personal jesus and his giving up of his life for sinners, has moved men to give themselves to him. the love of christ has called forth answering love. greenlanders and bushmen, tibetans and telugus, australians and chinese, have gone to their deaths for christ, simply because they had learned that christ died for them. of this sort have been the first-fruits of all our missions. christ crucified has been the power of god unto salvation. when he who was rich became poor that we might become rich, he instituted not only an example, but a motive, sufficient to subdue men's hearts and to conquer the world. "to win for the lamb that was slain the reward of his sufferings" has turned illiterate men in india into indomitable propagandists of christianity; but it has also made missionaries in oxford and edinburgh, in leicester and andover--missionaries like reginald heber and john g. paton, like william carey and adoniram judson. the "offense of the cross" is great, but the power of the cross is greater still, and the theology of missions must never permit mere philosophy, or education, or physical betterment, or social service, to take the place of christ crucified in its preaching. i grieve over the minimizing of christ's nature and claims that is current in our day, because i believe that it cuts the sinew of our christian faith and destroys the chief dynamic in our missions. i deplore the denial of our lord's deity and atonement, the refusal to address him in prayer, the ignoring of his promise to be with his people even to the end of the world. to meet our needs in the conflict with towering systems of idolatry and superstition, we need a supernatural christ; not simply the man of nazareth, but the lord of glory; not the christ of the synoptics alone, but also the christ of john's gospel; not a merely human example and leader, but one who "was declared to be the son of god with power by the resurrection from the dead"; not simply jesus according to the flesh, but "the word who was with god and who was god" in eternity past; not simply god manifest in human life nineteen centuries ago, but the god who is "the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever"; not simply the humbled, but also the glorified saviour, who sits now upon the throne of the universe, all power in heaven and earth being given into his hand. when we believe in an ascended lord at god's right hand, the god of creation, of providence, and of redemption, we have a faith that can conquer the world. without such a faith in the omnipresent, omniscient, and omnipotent christ, we are weak as water in the conflict with heathenism. we may set up christ on a pedestal, in a pantheon like that of mrs. besant, with a statue of krishna by his side, and the hindu will laugh at the claims of the gospel. only faith in christ as very god can meet the demands of the hour. "the spirit of man is the candle of the lord." in every age christ has lit that candle, so that it has given some light. but all who have come before him, pretending to be the light of the world, have been thieves and robbers, stealing from christ his glory and from man his blessing. christ alone can so enlighten us that we can be light and can give light. let us arise and shine, because our light has come, and the glory of the lord has arisen upon us! xviii missions and missionaries no result of my travel has been more valuable to me than the new impression i have received of the effect of missions upon missionaries. i came abroad with a lingering idea of my youth that missionaries were a class by themselves, a solemn set, destitute of humor, and so absorbed in their work as to be narrow-minded. on the contrary, i have found them joyful and even hilarious, broad in their views and sympathies, lovers of the good in literature and art. the mental and spiritual growth of students who left me years ago for a foreign field has greatly surprised me. then they were boys; now they are men. the demands of the missionary work have drawn out their latent powers; they have found their new environment immensely stimulating; contact with new lands and people has widened their outlook; they have become thinkers and leaders of men. it takes an all-round man to be a good missionary. the learning of a foreign language in which one has to construct his own grammar and lexicon requires persistent effort of the most disciplined mind. the missionary is often called upon to build his own house or church. he must be both architect and supervisor, for his masons know no english, and are bent on slighting their work. he has servants who steal and coolies who lie. he establishes, manages, and governs a native school, and generally has to evolve his own pedagogy. he comes into relation with english officials, american consuls, and native functionaries, and is obliged to know something of social customs. in fine, he is a jack of all trades, besides being a preacher of the gospel who must adapt his message to the understanding of the illiterate multitude and of the cultivated man of caste as well. all this gives the missionary a training beyond that of any university course. herbert spencer asserted that a nation makes progress in civilization in proportion to the variety of its environment. the principle applies also to the development of the individual. our missionaries thought perhaps that they were leaving culture behind them, when they left america for barbarous lands. but losing their lives for christ's sake they found to be mental gain. even on the congo our men have learned more, and have developed stronger characters, than would have been possible if they had accepted ordinary pastorates at home. and they have not lost, but have won, that fine flavor of sanity and judgment, which belongs to men who have had large experience of life. so far, i have referred only to the intellectual side of one's education. the spiritual equipment is even more important. in heathendom one comes in contact with towering systems of idolatry and superstition, venerable with age and rooted deeply in the nature and habit of the people. the christian teacher realizes that, in his conflict with these systems, he is powerless, unless backed by omnipotence. he is thrown upon the divine resources, and learns, perhaps for the first time, that, while apart from christ he can do nothing, with christ he can do all things. a new experience of the presence and power of the saviour comes to him. the struggle that at first taxed all his energy is at last a glad walk over the course in the strength of christ. anxiety and fear have taught him lessons which he could not otherwise have learned. he has become a hopeful and joyful christian. all this tends to render the missionary doctrinally sound. evangelization makes men evangelical. when you tell the gospel to a heathen sinner, you must put it in the simplest terms, or he will fail to understand it. your effort to reach his mind and heart clarifies your own. to one condemned and lost, no mere human example in jesus will suffice; you need an atoning saviour. to one struggling with demonic powers and helpless in their grasp, no mere man of nazareth, no jesus, according to the flesh, will answer; you need the lord of glory, who was declared to be the son of god with power by the resurrection from the dead. the doctrine of the holy spirit who regenerates, sanctifies, comforts, and saves, becomes an indispensable element in preaching, and so becomes ingrained into the preacher's confession of faith. a personal and present christ, immanuel, god with us, is the source of the missionary's power; he has practical proof that the holy spirit is christ in spiritual form, with his people alway, even to the end of the world. the reality of god in christ, manifest in nature, ruling the world in providence, preparing the nations for judgment, sure to bring the world to his feet, becomes an article of the missionary's faith, and a constant subject of his teaching. the minimizing of christ's nature and claims has no proper place on missionary ground. the missionary indeed is exerting an influence on the faith of the homeland equal to that which he exerts upon the heathen abroad. it is indeed true that here and there a man who has come out as a missionary has been attracted and perverted by the very systems he proposed to subdue, and has turned out a teacher of buddhism instead of christianity. but such men had never the root of the matter in them, had never felt the galling yoke of sin, had never known the joy of christ's salvation. they had gotten their preparation for evangelistic work from american teachers of comparative religion, who put buddha on the same plane with christ. the result has only shown the impotence of a man-made gospel to combat heathenism, or even to save the souls of those who preach that sort of gospel. in a sense precisely opposite to that of the apostle paul, they have come to be opposers of the faith they once proposed to advocate, and destroyers instead of builders of christian civilization. all this is a lesson to our missionary societies and churches at home. the colleges and seminaries which permit indefinite and unevangelical doctrine to be taught, and which retain those who teach it upon the ground that liberality in theology is a duty, merit the censure of god and man; for the school or the church that ceases to be evangelical will soon cease to be evangelistic, and when it ceases to be evangelistic it will soon cease to exist. in this way missions are the testing-places of christian doctrine. in a similar way new testament polity is showing its power in our foreign work. at home we are getting to be lax in our reception of members, and are taking in numbers of persons without proper evidence of their conversion. baptist churches which used to examine carefully their candidates for admission now receive them without public and oral confession of their faith. yet these new members may vote, and may determine the attitude of the church in important exigencies. all this is avoided in our mission churches. they perceive the necessity of keeping out the unfit, as clearly as that of admitting the fit. they do not add to their membership by infant baptism, and they make sure that no pecuniary considerations influence professing converts. our baptist mission churches are fast becoming models of self-supporting, self-governing, and self-propagating bodies. missionaries find that their only safety lies in hewing close to the line of new testament requirement. their success in building up baptist churches in burma and among the telugus, keeps our missionaries faithful to the new testament model of church polity. they have the joy of seeing churches organized on scriptural principles, and shedding their light upon the regions of darkness around them. i wish to say something also about the physical environment of our missionaries and its influence upon them. i remember that half a century ago i called upon doctor thompson of beirut, the veteran missionary of the american board in syria. i would not have been surprised if i had found him living in a hut, for my ideas of missionary hardship were very crude. but i was surprised to find him living in a great stone mansion, with twice as many servants as we ordinarily have at home. it has taken me some time to learn that in a hot country a cool and spacious house is a primary necessity of life, if the missionary expects to endure a climate where the thermometer at times goes up beyond a hundred degrees and stays there. and ordinary comfort cannot be obtained without servants to do your cooking and running. the large house can be built for half the cost of such a structure at home, and the servants can be obtained for only a few cents a day for each one. remember that in many cases the missionary has not only to be his own physician and surgeon, but also the physician and surgeon of others; that his house is often a hospital as well as a gathering-place of inquirers. remember, too, that the missionary's wife has not only to perform the household duties of a wife at home, but in addition has probably to be the supervisor of a girls' school and the only school-teacher and music-teacher that her children will know until they are old enough to go to the homeland. remember these considerations, and you will see that a decent home is essential to a missionary's success in a heathen land. our missionary work, like our diplomatic service, has been too long discredited by our insufficient care for our representatives abroad. our friends of other denominations are greatly ahead of us in this matter of provision for their missionaries. not only are the bungalows built for their residences better than ours, but their plants of church and school buildings show a larger outlook for the future than ours show. the english baptists, the congregationalists, the methodists, the church of england, yes, even the theosophists and buddhists, furnish object-lessons to us in this regard. and yet, such has been the inventiveness and large-mindedness of our missionaries themselves, that in all the great centers of our work, they are housed better than the average pastors of our churches at home. i wish we could double their strength by the establishment of summer rest-houses in the hills, and by presenting every one of them with a motor-car. but even now, the days of extreme hardship are past, and no man of ordinary vigor need fear coming to the foreign field on account of its physical discomforts. when our lord sent out his first missionaries, he sent them two by two. the real trial of the missionary is more mental than physical. he greatly needs companionship. silence in the midst of the beating of heathen tom-toms becomes enervating and appalling; it may make a man insane. we are learning the value of team-work in missions. what one man alone could never accomplish, he can do with the help of others. the american board in its mission at madura, india, has acted upon this principle, and the result is seen in an aggregate of twenty-two thousand church-members. our own most successful work has been among the burmans and karens, where we have seventy thousand members, and among the telugus, where we have as many more. in these fields there are enough workers to constitute a homogeneous society, with frequent conferences to help the discouraged and to stimulate the weak. let us be generous in providing additional helpers and furloughs to men so far removed from our christian civilization. but let no one go to the foreign field expecting to get all his strength from his brethren. missionary work is no sinecure. it requires not only a sound body and a sound mind, with a cheerful and hopeful temperament, but also a willingness to endure hardship for jesus' sake, and, if need be, with him alone for helper. there are more alleviations of missionary conditions than were known in its early days, but they still require self-sacrifice. separation from home and friends, and, for the pioneer, days of unspeakable loneliness, are the missionary's portion. the necessity of sending children to america, so that they may escape disease and immorality among the heathen, is an agony which only the affectionate parent can know. opportunities for usefulness which cannot be seized, because of lack of reenforcement from the homeland, involve a "hope deferred that maketh the heart sick." when paul went to athens he probably hoped to win the philosophers to christ's standard. but the stoics and epicureans scoffed at him. he had to content himself with the multitude of commoner converts at corinth. it was doubtless god's sovereignty that determined the result, but god's sovereignty is also wisdom. it took paul a long time to learn that god builds his fires from the bottom, and ordinarily kindles the small sticks first. "not many wise, not many noble hath god chosen," but the weak things first, "that no flesh may glory in his presence." here is one of the trials of missionary life, and one of the tests of missionary faith. can the missionary welcome the conversion of a multitude of low-class people, like the madigas, when their acceptance becomes to the proud brahman an evidence of the ignoble character of christianity? yes, he can, if he has faith in god. he can wait on god, and wait for results. he builded better than he knew, the conscious stone to beauty grew. the great sudra class, a class higher than the madigas, under the influence of christianity, is becoming more intelligent and more influential than the brahman, and is gradually taking from him his social prestige and his political power. many missionaries are expecting a great turning unto the lord from among the sudras. meantime there is a promise "to him that overcometh." "if we suffer with him, we shall also reign with him." "our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." and when we reach the shore at last. who shall count the billows past? * * * * * transcriber's notes: inconsistencies in the hyphenation of words preserved. (sightseeing, sight-seeing) pg. , unusual word "subtilty". presumed to be "subtlety". (and the subtlety of the hindus) pg. , triple quote mark after "biblia," changed to double quote mark. (the plural "biblia,") in the original text, every chapter had a title page (containing chapter number and heading) with a blank page on the reverse. the page with the main text then followed with a repeated chapter heading at the top. occasionally, there was also a blank page before the title page. for tidiness, the title page of each chapter has been transcribed but the repeated chapter headings have been removed. wanderings in the orient by albert m. reese with sixty-six illustrations from photographs chicago london the open court publishing company copyright by the open court publishing company printed in the united states of america contents. foreword i. life in a philippine village ii. a visit to tay tay iii. the leper colony of culion iv. from zamboanga to singapore v. singapore, the melting pot of the east vi. how rubber is made vii. two chinese cities viii. meanderings in modern manila ix. a pacific paradise, honolulu foreword. to most americans, "going abroad" means visiting europe. since european travel will doubtless be unsatisfactory for some years to come, the globetrotter may well turn his attention to the far east which, while not so accessible, is after all easily reached if the cost be not prohibitive; and the ubiquitous cook is nearly always on hand to help the traveler out of difficulties. the trip across the pacific is of course a long one, but the journey is interrupted, before the end of the first week, by a stop at that tropical paradise, the hawaiian islands. if one should need a complete rest, this seven thousand mile voyage is just the thing. if he desire he may read or study to good advantage. if inclined to sea-sickness there is plenty of time to recover and still enjoy the greater part of the journey. while the distances between stopping places are often great one feels that he can "do" a place in much less time than it would take in europe, where objects of historic and other interest are so crowded together. if interested in the work of foreign missions abundant opportunity offers for their study at first hand. it was chiefly during these journeys between stopping places that the following sketches were written, as a sort of diary or log, illustrated by photographs taken by the writer. on a beautiful morning in may the u. s. army transport "sherman," after a voyage of twenty-eight days from san francisco, tied up at the dock in manila. the regular lines make the trip in much less time than the leisurely transports, but the writer, as a representative of the smithsonian institution, was furnished passage on the government vessel. with manila as headquarters, collecting trips were made to various regions roundabout. some of these places are described in the following chapters. finally, upon one of the inter-island transports, a trip to the southernmost islands of the philippine group was made, ending at zamboanga, where the north german lloyd steamer was taken for singapore, via borneo. from singapore a four days' trip, without stop, brought us to hongkong; whence, after seeing that place and the nearby city of canton, a two days' trip brought us again to manila. it is the various places visited in this more or less out-of-the-way circuit that are described in the remaining chapters. a. m. r. morgantown, w. va. i. life in a philippine village. the little village or _barrio_ of mariveles is situated just inside the narrow cape that forms the northern border of the entrance to manila bay. the city of manila lies out of sight, thirty miles to the southeast, but the island of corregidor lies only seven miles to the south, and the great searchlights at night are quite dazzling when turned directly upon the village. a large amount of money has recently been spent in fortifying corregidor until it is now considered practically impregnable. the village extends for about half a mile close along the beach and is flanked, on the west, by the buildings of a united states quarantine station. arriving by a very dilapidated launch from manila i waited at the government dock while the native boy i had brought with me went to the village to find, if possible, a vacant house. he soon returned, with another boy to help carry our baggage, (there was not a cart or wagon of any sort in the place) and with the information that he had engaged a house for our use. a whole house for two people sounded rather formidable but as this house contained only two rooms its rental was not as extravagant as might have been imagined. it was located on the main thoroughfare which had the very american name of washington street. like the typical native house, our washington street mansion was built chiefly of bamboo and _nipa_ palm, with a few heavier timbers in the framework. upon the main timbers of the frame was built a sort of lattice of split bamboo, upon which in turn was sewed, shinglewise, close layers of nipa palm that are quite impervious to rain, are fairly durable, and are very inflammable. the _people's_ floor was elevated four or five feet above the ground, thereby securing not only air and dryness for the people above, but also providing a very convenient chicken-coop and pig-pen beneath. the floor was made of split bamboo which made sweeping easy--merely a matter of pushing the dirt through the cracks between the strips of bamboo. [illustration: mariveles village and mountain, from manila bay.] although the smell of even a _clean_ pig under the dining-room table is rather objectionable at first, as is the crowing of two or three roosters early in the morning, it is surprising how soon one becomes accustomed to these little annoyances, and it simplifies domestic science considerably to be able to throw, from one's seat at table, banana skins and other scraps through a convenient hole in the floor and have them immediately disposed of by the pig and chickens beneath. [illustration: our residence on "washington street."] the dining room, as in many american houses, also served as a kitchen. the stove was a large box, elevated two or three feet from the floor, lined with baked clay upon which the fire is made. large iron spikes, arranged in groups of three, may be imbedded in the clay to hold one or more pots of different sizes. there was no chimney, but a convenient window carried out the smoke quite effectively. the fire-wood was stored under the house in the pig-pen and consisted chiefly of short sticks of such diameter as could be easily cut with the large knife or bolo that the natives wear suspended from a belt at the waist. the sticks, when the cooking is done, are simply withdrawn from beneath the pot and lie ready to be pushed in again when the fire is lit for the next meal. a very few sticks will thus serve for cooking a large number of the simple native meals. opening from the kitchen was the front door, leading to the ground by a flight of stairs or a ladder. thanks to the united states mariveles is supplied with abundant water, piped from some miles up in the mountains, and some of the better houses of the barrio have a private faucet on the back porch, which is luxury indeed. the main room of the house was used as a living room and bedroom. in such houses there are usually large windows, without sash of course, which are shaded by day and closed by night and in severe storms by a hinged awning of nipa, seen in the photographs. in spite of the warmth nearly all natives close the window shades tight when they sleep, so that, in spite of the numerous cracks, the ventilation must be very bad; this may partly account for the prevalence of tuberculosis on the islands. [illustration: native girl carrying basket of clothes.] around the better houses in such a barrio is usually seen a high fence generally made of closely set vertical saplings, driven into the ground and bound together with rattan at the top; this fence serves to keep the chickens in, and, at night, to keep prowling animals out. many of the houses have a tiny store at the ground level in which a small stock of canned goods, native fruits, dried fish, native shoes etc. may be seen. one of the main department stores of mariveles is shown in the accompanying photograph, with the very american sign at the side of the entrance. [illustration: the chief store of mariveles.] like many native villages mariveles has a large stone church, with red tile roof, bell tower, etc.; it is now in such bad repair as to be unsafe, so that a crude shed with thatched sides and corrugated iron roof has been built to take its place. no priest now lives in this barrio and the shed-like church did not have the appearance of being much used. the village school, on the other hand, gave every indication of activity. although not housed in a very handsome building, a glance through the windows and door showed many students of various ages all apparently busy and orderly under the supervision of several neat and bright looking native women. on the same street with the school a link with the outside world was seen in the sign "telegraph and post office." this office was in charge of a native who, unlike most of the residents of the barrio, spoke english. in these villages it is usually easy to find natives who speak spanish, but it is frequently difficult to find one who understands english. [illustration: the old church.] the men of the village were mostly engaged, though not very strenuously, in the rice paddies or in fishing. the women looked after the housekeeping, washing, tending the stores, etc., and their position of respect and authority in the homes and in society was in marked contrast to that of other oriental and even of some european women. [illustration: the mariveles public school.] a tiny store across the street from where we lived was tended during most of the day and in the evenings by an attractive young native woman who seemed to be quite a belle. every evening, at about dark, a dapper young native, in an american suit of white, always appeared and seated himself upon the bench in front of the store, where he could see and talk to his brunette lady love without interfering with her commercial duties, which were not heavy. often several other suitors appeared and, while it was not possible to understand what was said, since the conversation was all in tagalog, from the frequent laughter it was evident that the girl was as able to entertain several admirers at once as are some of her blond sisters across the sea. her voice was softer and her laugh more attractive than that of many an american belle of high social standing. in fact the women of this island village were, as a class, of remarkable dignity and modesty, so that there was probably less to shock one's modesty here than at many a fashionable american watering place. of course ignorance of their language made it impossible to understand all that was going on, but to judge by their actions and the tones of their voices it would seem that their family life is as peaceful and happy as that of the average american family. it is truly the "simple life" that they lead, and to us it seems a very narrow one; yet it has its advantages over the "strenuous life" that most of us are compelled to live. there was little or no drunkenness or quarreling among the men, whose chief vice seemed to be gambling. [illustration: the telegraph and post office.] this gambling instinct is gratified mainly by means of the cockpit. one of the most familiar sights of the islands is the native man with a game cock or just a plain rooster under his arm. they pet and fondle these birds as we do cats or lap-dogs, and on sundays (alas!) they gather at the cockpits to match their favorites against each other. many barrios have large covered pits seating hundreds of people. the pit of mariveles, which happened to be in the yard next to ours, was simply a square of about twenty feet enclosed by a low bamboo fence, in the shade of a huge acacia tree. around this square were gathered about one hundred men (probably all of the men of the barrio) and two or three women, and we shall hope that the few women who were there to witness so unpleasant a spectacle were looking after their husbands to see that they did not bet too heavily. [illustration: native "banca" near mariveles.] inside the square were two or three officials, and two men holding the two contesting birds. a man at a table outside held the stakes and presumably kept track of the bettors, odds, etc. instead of the weapons provided by nature each bird had securely fastened to his left leg, in place of the spur that had been cut off, a villainously sharp steel spur, slightly curved and about three inches long. a well directed thrust from this steel weapon may kill the victim almost instantly, and one victim was already hanging head-down to a near-by tree when i entered. [illustration: a schoolhouse in iloilo.] while the bets were being arranged each bird was held, in turn, to let the other peck him ferociously, probably with the idea of making them mad enough to fight. when the bets were all arranged the birds were placed on the ground facing each other, and with lowered heads and neck feathers erected they dashed together like tigers, jumping high over each other and endeavoring to stab one another with their artificial weapons. in the one fight witnessed (and one was enough to learn the ways of the cockpit) both birds were soon bleeding profusely and had lost their desire to fight, so that the crowd called out some word and the cocks were picked up and "sicked" on each other again; this was repeated until one bird had enough and retreated ignominiously to the farthest corner of the pit, amid the shouts of the men who had bet on the other cock. in many cases, it is said, the vanquished bird is killed outright before he has time to retreat. the sport, while rather exciting, is certainly demoralizing, especially with the betting that always accompanies it. such is the life of these simple people. of course among the less civilized and the savage tribes conditions are very different, and a white man would not dare enter so intimately into the life of a barrio; in fact in some regions it is very unsafe to go outside of the army posts without a proper guard. as to the character of the civilized filipinos opinion seems to differ among the americans of the islands. that they are not yet capable of self-government seems to be almost universally believed by americans who have lived among them; and that they are not energetic as a class is only what might be expected in such a climate. some americans have a rather high opinion of the moral character and general trustworthiness of the average native; others do not hold such a high opinion of him and consider him the inferior of the american negro, mentally, morally and physically. as students in the university of the philippines it is said they compare favorably with students in american universities. doubtless there is as much variation, mental and moral, among the natives of the philippine islands as among the inhabitants of an anglo-saxon country, so that one's opinions are apt to be influenced by the class of natives with which he chiefly comes in contact. ii. a visit to tay tay. the cutter _busuanga_ of the philippine bureau of navigation had been chartered to go to tay tay on the island of palawan, to bring back to manila the party of naturalists of the bureau of science who had been studying the little-known fauna and flora of that far-away island, the most westerly of the philippine group. [illustration: village of tay tay from the harbor.] after leaving the dock at manila at sundown we steamed out of the bay, past the searchlights of corregidor and the other forts which were sweeping entirely across the entrance to the bay in a way that would immediately expose any enemy that might attempt to slip by in the dark, and by nine o'clock we were headed in a south-westerly direction across the china sea. the next day we passed through winding passages along the calamaines group where every hour brought to view new islands of the greatest beauty and of every size and shape. upon one of these islands is a leper colony which we visited and found most interesting. [illustration: two prominent houses in tay tay.] early on the second morning we entered the harbor of the small but ancient village of tay tay (pronounced "tie tie" and spelled in various ways) on the eastern shore of palawan. not a white man lives in this inaccessible hamlet and it is seldom that one visits it, as there is no regular communication of any sort with the outside world. the village consists of a dozen or two native huts along the beach in a very pretty grove of coconut trees. back of the village is a range of low mountains covered with tropical jungle. the main point of interest is a well constructed fort of stone, built on a small promontory that projects out into the bay. the walls of the fort are very massive and are surmounted at each of the four corners by a round watch tower. on its land side the fort is entered through a narrow gate that leads by a stone stairway to the top of the promontory. on various parts of the walls are carvings and inscriptions showing that the different bastions were built at different times. [illustration: the spanish fort at tay tay.] within the fort and overlooking the walls is an old stone church whose roof has long since fallen in. within the fort is also a large cement-lined, stone cistern to hold water in case of siege. the spanish inscriptions on the walls show that the fort was begun about , though the mission there was established about . lying about within the fort are a few large iron cannon that were doubtless used by the spaniards in repulsing the attacks of the moro pirates. it was for a refuge from these pirates that this old fort was built nearly two hundred years ago in this tiny, reef-protected harbor, on an island that even now is unknown to a large majority of american people although it is a part of our territory. on the shore, just back of the fort, is another stone church whose roof has also fallen in; and back of this church is a small thatched bell tower with two very good bells of harmonious tones hanging in it. how long these bells have been silent it is difficult to say, but no priest now remains to carry on the work begun nearly three hundred years ago by the brave padres from spain, and not a spaniard now lives in that almost forgotten village. but for the moss-covered and still massive gray walls of the fort and the crumbling ruins of the two churches one would never imagine that this tiny village of brown men had ever been inhabited by subjects of the kingdom of spain. [illustration: church within the fort.] in passing out of the harbor of tay tay we visited a small volcanic island of curiously weathered and water-worn limestone. except for a narrow beach the sides of this island are almost perpendicular, and the cliffs are honeycombed with dozens of water-worn caves. many of these caves are of great beauty, resembling the interiors of stone churches; some extend far back into the dark interior of the island, others are lighted by openings at the top. many of them are beautifully colored, and in an accessible region would doubtless be frequently visited by tourists, while in their isolated location it is possible that they had never before been visited by white men, unless in the old spanish days. it is in these and in similar caves of this region that the natives obtain the edible birds' nests so highly prized by some, especially the chinese. the natives are said to have claims on certain caves, and any one found stealing nests from another man's cave is supposedly dealt with as a thief. [illustration: bell-tower of the church outside of the fort.] these curious nests are built by swifts (swallows) against the walls of the dark caves much in the some way as is done by our common chimney swifts, except that instead of cementing a number of small twigs together by a kind of sticky secretion or saliva, the entire nest is made of the sticky substance which dries into a sort of gummy mass. this substance has but little taste, and why the wealthy chinese should be willing to pay such enormous prices ($ to $ per pound) for it is hard to understand. it is said that the first nest the bird makes in the season brings the highest price because it is of pure material; this nest having been taken the bird builds another, but, having a diminished supply of the secretion, it introduces some foreign matter to help out, and this foreign matter, of course, makes the nest less valuable as food. a third nest may succeed the second, but it has still more foreign matter to still further diminish its value. that the collection of the nests is attended with considerable danger is evident from the vertical, jagged walls of rock that must be scaled, either from below or above, to obtain them. [illustration: island near tay tay where edible birds' nests are found.] to those of us who lead busy lives in the centers of what we call twentieth-century civilization, life in a place so isolated from the rest of the world as tay tay seems impossible. yet the inhabitants of this barrio are quite contented and fairly comfortable. they live "the simple life" indeed. while their resources are exceedingly limited their needs and desires are correspondingly few. they never suffer from cold and probably not often from heat or hunger: and they are not cursed with the ambitions that make so many of us dissatisfied with our lives. iii. the leper colony of culion. it was early sunday morning when the "busuanga" dropped anchor in the harbor of culion island, one of the calamaines group of the philippines, and two or three of us were fortunate enough to be invited to land, for an hour or so, to visit the leper colony that is said to be the largest in the world. we were met at the tiny dock by the physician-in-charge, dr. clements, and by him escorted about the colony. this physician, who has spent long years in these eastern lands, gives the immediate impression of a man of quiet force, and the work he is doing in this seldom-visited island is as fine a piece of missionary work, though carried on by the government, as can probably be found anywhere. including the dock a few acres of the island are fenced off, and into this enclosure the lepers are forbidden to enter; otherwise they have the run of the island, but are not allowed boats for fear they would be used as a means of escape. within the non-leprous enclosure are located the residences for the doctors and other officials; the living quarters, kitchens etc. (all of concrete) for the non-leprous laborers; and various shops and other such buildings. at the "dead line" fence between this and the leprous part of the island a chinaman has a small store where the lepers can buy various articles such as may be seen in a small country store. the articles are in plain sight, but the leper is not allowed to touch anything until he has decided to take it; he then drops his money into a sterilizing solution and gets his purchase. a more modern store is being arranged by the government that will soon displace the _chino_. passing this minute store we entered the gate of the "forbidden city," and, though there is no danger from merely breathing the same air with lepers, it gave us a rather strange sensation to be surrounded by thirty-four hundred poor wretches who in biblical times would have been compelled to cry "unclean! unclean!" we, of course, did not touch anything within the colony, though the doctors do not hesitate to touch even the lepers themselves. the colony proper is located on a small promontory looking eastward to the harbor and the sulu sea. at the end of this promontory is an old spanish fort of stone with its enclosed church. most of the christian lepers are roman catholics, though there is a small protestant church in the colony, in charge of a leprous native minister. [illustration: doctors' residences and other buildings outside of the colony fence.] the lepers are brought from the various islands of the philippines to this colony so fast that it is with great difficulty that they can be accommodated; but all are made comfortable, in fact much more comfortable, in most cases, than they would ever have been at home. except for homesickness, which cannot, of course, be avoided, they are quite happy, or as happy as any hopelessly sick people can be away from home and friends. fine concrete dormitories are supplied, but many prefer to build their own native houses of nipa palm and bamboo. a certain amount of help is given the lepers in building these houses on condition that they first obtain a permit and build in the proper place in relation to the streets that have been laid out. besides the dormitories there are several concrete kitchen buildings where the lepers can prepare their food in comfort. a plentiful supply of pure water is distributed by pipes to various convenient parts of the colony, and several concrete bath and wash houses are conveniently located. a concrete sewage system leads all sewage to the sea. [illustration: concrete dormitory and native shacks.] in this tropical climate it is, of course, unnecessary to provide any means of heating the buildings. at the time of our visit a large amusement pavilion was nearly completed where moving pictures and other forms of entertainment will help pass the time for these poor wretches who have nothing to look forward to but a lingering death from a loathsome disease. a large number of the patients who are in the incipient stages showed, to the ordinary observer, no effects of the disease. there were others who at first glance seemed perfectly normal, but on closer scrutiny revealed the absence of one or more toes or fingers. others had horribly swollen ears: some had no nose left and were distressing objects; but it was not until we visited the various wards of the hospital that we saw leprosy in all of its horror. here were dozens of cases so far advanced that they were no longer able to walk; they were lying on their cots waiting for death to come to their release. some were so emaciated as to look almost like animated skeletons. others, except for and sometimes in spite of their bandages, looked like horrid, partially decomposed cadavers. it was a sight to make one shudder and devoutly hope that a cure for this awful disease may soon be discovered. these extreme cases are cared for carefully and their last hours are made as comfortable as possible. [illustration: concrete kitchen and lavatory buildings and native residences.] as we came, out three catholic sisters entered the women's ward to do what they could for the patients there. shortly before leaving the colony we were led to a small concrete structure (near the furnace where all combustible waste is burned), and as the door was opened we saw before us on a concrete slab four bodies so wasted and shrivelled that they seemed scarcely human. these were those who had at last been cured in the only way that this dread disease admits of cure. about forty per month are released by death, and those we saw were the last crop of the here _merciful_ not "dread reaper." at the back of the colony we met four lepers of incipient stages carrying a long box on their shoulders. just as they came abreast of us they set it down, to rest themselves, and we saw that in the box was another "cured" leper. he was being carried to the cemetery not only "unhonored and unsung" but also "unwept": not a single friend nor relative followed his wasted body to its final resting place. after this pitiful spectacle, added to the horrors of the hospital wards, we were not sorry to turn our steps back toward the boat. as we passed through the fence at the "dead line," going away from the colony, we were compelled to wade through a shallow box of water containing a small percentage of carbolic acid which disinfected the soles of our shoes, the only things about us that had come in actual contact with the leper colony. in this way all visitors when they leave the colony are compelled, not to "shake its dust from their feet" but to wash its germs from their soles. as an antidote for dissatisfaction with one's lot in life, or as an object lesson for the pessimists who claim there is no unselfishness in the world, or as an illustration of the value of the medical missionary, this little island, lying "somewhere east of suez" between the sulu and the china seas, is not easily surpassed. iv. from zamboanga to singapore. when the north german lloyd steamer "sandakan" left the dock at zamboanga she had in the first cabin only three passengers, a russian of uncertain occupation, a young lieutenant of the philippine constabulary, and myself. we had, therefore, the pick of the deck staterooms, which is worth while when traveling within ten degrees of the equator in mid-summer. zamboanga is the chief city of the island of mindanao and is the capital of the turbulent moro province, which includes the well-known island of sulu with its once-famous sultan. after a night's run we tied up at the dock of jolo, the chief town of the island of sulu. here my two companions left the ship, so that until we reached the next port, sandakan, i was the only cabin passenger, and when the ship's officers were prevented by their duties from appearing at the table i had the undivided attention of the chief steward, two cooks, and three waiters. this line of vessels being primarily for freight the "sandakan" has accommodations for less than twenty first-cabin passengers, and it probably seldom has anything like a full list on this out-of-the-way run from "zambo" to singapore. so far as its accommodations go, however, they are excellent, and a pleasanter trip of a week or ten days would be hard to find, in spite of the tropical heat. while the first cabin list was so small, the third class accommodations seemed taxed to their utmost, and the conglomeration of orientals was an unending source of amusement. they slept all over their deck and appeared happy and comfortable in spite of the fact that they seemed never to remove their clothes nor to bathe; it is probable that to most of them ten days without such luxuries was not a noticeable deprivation. leaving jolo, a picturesque walled city with a reputation for dangerous moros (one is not supposed to go outside the walls without an armed guard, and many men carry a " " at their hip at all times), we sailed southwest through the countless islands of the sulu archipelago, and after a run of about twenty hours passed the high red cliff at the entrance to the harbor of sandakan, the capital of british north borneo, and were soon alongside the dock. sandakan is a rather pretty little town of two or three thousand inhabitants, including about fifty white people. it extends along the shore for about a mile and in the center has the athletic or recreation field, that is found in all these little towns, as well as the post office and other government buildings. in this central part of the town are also the chinese stores, usually dirty, ill-smelling and unattractive; but there are no others. in all this region the chinese seem to have a complete monopoly of the commercial business. [illustration: the water front at sandakan.] a hundred yards or more from the shore the hills rise steeply from sea-level to a few hundred feet, and over these hills are scattered the attractive bungalows of the white residents. there is also here a handsome stone church, overlooking the bay, with a school for native boys in connection with it. the hills farther from the town are heavily wooded, and the timber is being sawed at mills along the shore road. on the streets are seen men of several nationalities, chinese, malays, moros, east indians, and occasionally a caucasian in his customary white suit and pith helmet; but of all these the most dignified and stately is the indian policeman. he is tall and slender, with frequently a fine black beard; his head is covered with the usual white turban, set off with a touch of red. his gray spiral puttees generally do not quite reach the bottom of his khaki trousers, thus leaving his knees bare. hanging from his belt is his club, similar to those carried by american policemen, and jangling in one hand is usually a pair of steel handcuffs. in passing white men he often raises his hand in a formal military salute that would be worthy of a major general. altogether he is a most impressive personage and, with such examples constantly before them, it would seem incredible that the citizens should ever cause a-disturbance. an interesting contrast was seen in a group of men, sitting idly in the shade and watching eight little chinese women stagger by with a huge tree trunk that would seem too heavy for an equal number of strong men to carry: but this is "east of suez, where the best is like the worst," whatever kipling meant by that. [illustration: sandakan from the hill. the "sandakan" at the dock.] at sandakan the first cabin passenger list was increased per cent by the advent of a young danish rubber man--not a man made of young danish rubber, but a young dane from singapore who had been inspecting rubber plantations, of which there are many on borneo. [illustration: bungalow on the hill, sandakan.] leaving the capital city at sunset we arrived at kudat, our next stopping place, early the next morning. with a very similar location this is a much smaller town than the preceding, consisting of four or five hundred people including half a dozen caucasians. in spite of its small size it has a small garrison of native soldiers and the inevitable recreation ground. besides this there is here a race track at which a meet was about to be held. attracted probably by the races was the ubiquitous moving picture show, set up in a tent near the race track. it is impossible to escape the "movies." i attended a moving picture exhibition given in the cockpit of a small philippine village about fifty miles out from manila, and here was another in a still smaller village on the island of borneo, hundreds of miles from _anywhere_. in the same way it is impossible to escape the voice of the phonograph. on several occasions i have heard them in tiny nipa shacks in small philippine villages, and in a moro shack in kudat, built on poles above the water, i heard the sound of what seemed a very good phonograph of some sort. [illustration: chinese women carrying log, sandakan.] in the northeast corner of borneo is its highest mountain, kini or kina balu, the chinese widow, supposedly so named because of the fancied resemblance of its jagged top to the upturned face of a woman. it is really a very impressive peak and, being seen from the sea, it looks its full height of nearly fourteen thousand feet; being exactly under the sixth parallel it is, of course, too close to the equator to be snow-capped. its position near the coast enabled us to enjoy it as we approached the island from the northeast and as we passed around and down the west coast, so that it was visible for nearly three days. other mountain peaks of five or six thousand feet are visible along the west coast but they appear insignificant in comparison with old kini balu. [illustration: chino carrier, sandakan.] [illustration: race-course at kudat. movie tent in the left background.] leaving kudat in the evening we arrived at jesselton the following morning. this is a town of about the same size and character of location as kudat, but as the northern terminus of the only railroad on the island it seems much more of a metropolis. it has a clock-tower, too, the pride of every jesseltonian heart, located in plain view of the railroad station so that there is no excuse for the trains leaving jesselton more than two or three hours late. there is here again the recreation field and market house, and, of course, the usual chinese stores and indian policemen; besides this it is the home town of the governor (an englishman, of course) of british north borneo. but the railroad is the chief feature of jesselton. to be sure it is only a narrow gauge, but it carries people, if they are not in too big a hurry, and freight. the engines are of english type but the cars are--original, surely. there are first and third class passenger coaches, no second class, to say nothing of a baggage "van." the third class cars have simply a rough wooden bench along each side and seat about twenty people. the first class cars are of two types: the first is like the third class with the addition of cushions to the seats and curtains to the windows; the second kind is a sort of pullman car; it is of the same size, but instead of the benches it has about half a dozen wicker chairs that may be moved about at will. [illustration: moro shacks at kudat. in one of these a phonograph was heard.] having a few hours to spare i decided to take a ride into the country. i had already climbed one of the hills where i could get a view inland to kini balu, over miles of jungle where no white man has ever been. but i wanted to see a little of this country, from the car-window at least. so i entered the station and interviewed the station master, a portly official of great dignity. he told me, in fair english, that the train on the "main line" had left for that day but that i could take a "local" out into the country for about three miles. this was better than nothing, so i climbed (and climb is the proper word) aboard the first class car of the local that was soon to start. i was the only first-class passenger and i felt like a railroad president in his private car. soon after starting the conductor entered. he was a tall and, of course, dignified east indian in turban and khaki uniform. he had the punch without which no conductor would be complete, and, suspended from a strap over his shoulder, was a huge canvas bag, like a mail bag, the purpose of which puzzled me. the fare, he told me, was fifteen cents to the end of the line; on giving him a twenty-cent piece i found the purpose of the canvas bag; it was his money bag, and he carefully fished from its depths my five cents change. the borneo pennies are about as big as cart wheels so this bag was not so out of proportion as it might seem. in exchange for my fare he gave me a ticket marked "fifteen cents," which he gravely punched. i did not know what the ticket was for as i thought there would hardly be a change of conductors in a run of three miles, but i kept it and in about five minutes the dignified conductor returned and gravely took up the ticket again; this impressive performance was repeated on the return trip. [illustration: hospital on the hill, kudat.] after leaving the crowded(?) streets of the city our speed rapidly increased until we were traveling at a rate of not less than ten miles an hour, which was fast enough considering there were no airbrakes on the train of three cars, and we had to be ready to stop at any moment when somebody might want to get on or off. doubtless the "flyers" on the main line of the british north borneo state railroad run at even greater speeds than this. the dignity of the officials of this miniature railroad was most interesting, and was almost equal to that of a negro porter on the empire state express. [illustration: club house at jesselton.] leaving this railroad center early the next morning we arrived, before dark, at our last stop in borneo, labuan. we had added per cent to our cabin passenger list at jesselton by taking aboard a young english engineer from south africa. [illustration: passenger train on the b. n. b. s. r. r. at jesselton.] the island of labuan upon which the town of the same name is situated lies just off the northwest coast of borneo. it came under the protectorate of great britain in and, though small, has a more up-to-date appearance than any of the other towns visited. the stores are mainly of concrete with red tile or red-painted corrugated iron roofs, which, among the tall coconut palms, are very attractive in appearance. there is one main street, parallel to the beach line, that is extended as a modern, oiled road for some miles into the country. along this road are the very attractive official buildings, each with its sign in front; also the recreation field and the residences of the few white inhabitants. all of the streets are clean and have deep cement gutters on the sides that lead to the sea or to the various lagoons that extend through the town. water pipes also extend along the streets with openings at convenient intervals. extensive coal mines are located near the town, but for some reason they were not profitable and the cars and docks for handling coal are now nearly all idle. on one of the lagoons is a rather artistic chinese temple of concrete, well built and in good repair. on the main street is a school, and, seeing a crowd of natives at the door, i joined the throng to see what was going on inside. it proved to be the singing hour, and about fifty little chinese boys, from six to ten years of age, all in neat khaki uniforms, were singing at the tops of their voices, led by a very active chinese man. the little fellows seemed to enjoy the singing thoroughly, and, after hearing several songs, all in chinese, of course, to strange and unusual tunes, i was surprised to recognize one of the tunes--it was "john brown's body lies amoulding in the grave" though what the words were i was unable to tell since, like the other songs, they were in chinese. [illustration: bornean boat at jesselton.] at labuan the last of our cabin passengers came aboard, two englishmen, one a mining engineer, the other a government man. since no more stops were to be made in borneo, the sandakan headed in a southwest direction straight for singapore, and in exactly three days we entered that busy harbor and dropped anchor among the more than two dozen other ocean liners from all parts of the world. [illustration: main street at labuan.] [illustration: post office and recreation ground at labuan.] singapore is one of the busiest seaports in the world and the hundreds of vessels of all sizes and types against the background of handsome white and cream-colored buildings make a very interesting and impressive sight. [illustration: chinese temple at labuan.] thus ended a most interesting voyage of nine days, through a region seldom visited by any but a few englishmen who are interested in some way in the development of that, as yet, little developed part of the world. although it is a trip that is easily arranged by visitors to the philippines it is one that is seldom taken by the tourist. v. singapore, the melting pot of the east. in singapore, it is said, can be seen more races of men than at any other one spot in the world, so that it has been well named "the melting pot of the east." it is also sometimes spoken of as "the gateway of the east," since all vessels bound for ports in the far east call there. [illustration: hongkong bank and public square.] it is said, perhaps without sufficient historical evidence, that the town was first settled by malays in a. d.; but as a port of any importance its history begins in when it was ceded by jahore to great britain through the instrumentality of sir stamford raffles, whose name is perpetuated in connection with many of the local institutions. [illustration: a chinese residence street.] [illustration: a suburban residence.] in the early days, in fact until the introduction of steamships, there was much annoyance and danger from pirates at sea and robbers on land, but that of course is now long past and one is as safe here as in any other part of the world. the present-day singapore is a thriving town of more than , inhabitants, and is one of the busiest harbors in the world; more than three dozen sea-going steamships may sometimes be seen in the harbor at the same time, and the number of rowboats and other small craft is legion. [illustration: victoria memorial hall and singapore cricket club.] on landing one is fairly overwhelmed by the _rickisha_ men, for the _jinrikisha_, the two-wheeled japanese cart, is _the_ method of travel in singapore, though one may hire a pony wagon (_ghari_), or even an automobile at very reasonable rates. as to the electric cars, or "trams," the less said the better; they would disgrace a city of one-tenth the size of singapore. the streets are excellent and are nearly all level, so that the rickishas, usually pulled by chinese, make good time. many residents own their own rickisha and hire the man by the month; more well-to-do people, and there are many wealthy people both native and foreign in singapore, have their own teams and automobiles. [illustration: the scotch kirk.] while there are regular rickisha stands in different parts of town, especially near the hotels and other public places, there are few streets so unfrequented that one cannot "pick up" a rickisha at a moment's notice. umbrellas are scarcely needed, for in case of a shower one may call a rickisha to the curb and be whisked to his destination dryshod. in fact there is very little walking done in singapore, especially by europeans; it is so easy to get into the ever-present and alluring rickisha. moreover, it is very hot in the sun, for singapore is only a little more than one degree from the equator. there is a regular scale of prices for public vehicles, but the newcomer is always "spotted" and is charged double or treble the regular fare until he learns better than to heed the pathetic or indignant protests of the rickisha men. [illustration: y. m. c. a. building. methodist church in left background.] [illustration: st. joseph's college.] like other cities in the east singapore is a mixture of beauty and squalor. in the region of the banks, steamship offices, and wholesale houses there are many handsome buildings: but in the chinese districts that make up the greater part of the business section, for the chinese merchants far outnumber all others, there are narrow crowded streets, small houses, and large and variagated smells. there is also a notorious and wide-open red-light district that is a disgrace to a modern and supposedly civilized town. while the saloon is not particularly in evidence the indulgence in _stengahs_ (malay for _half_), or whiskey and sodas, is well-nigh universal among the european population, not always excluding the women and clergy. since alcohol is said to be particularly dangerous in the tropics it would be interesting to know the total effect of this general indulgence. it is generally conceded that after a few years of tropical life europeans must go home to recuperate; it would be interesting to know if the use of strong alcoholics bears any relation to the frequency of these necessary trips to temperate regions. [illustration: part of a chinese funeral procession.] certainly life seems easy and pleasant in singapore, especially among government officials. about eight or nine o'clock in the morning a stream of rickishas, carriages and automobiles carries the men down town from their pleasant and often very handsome homes uptown or in the suburbs. many of the finest of these homes are owned by wealthy chinese merchants. about five in the afternoon the stream sets in the other direction, carrying those whose day's work is over back to their cool villas or to some recreation ground where tennis, cricket, golf, or football may be enjoyed for an hour or two before dark. dinner is usually between seven and eight and is over in time for evening entertainments which begin late. although too far from the beaten tracks frequently to enjoy first-class dramatic talent, there are the ubiquitous "movies," and for the transient visitor the malay and chinese theaters are of great interest. [illustration: part of a chinese funeral procession.] an excellent race course provides entertainment of that sort at frequent intervals. for the more serious-minded the extensive raffles museum and library is centrally and beautifully located. the beautiful anglican cathedral is the largest church in the city, and many other denominations possess smaller but attractive churches. the central building of all is the beautiful victoria memorial hall with its tall clock tower and chimes. in front of this white building is the black statue of an elephant, presented to the city by the king of siam to commemorate the first visit ever paid to a foreign city by a siamese monarch. in the neighborhood of the cathedral and memorial hall are the hotels, which are good in most respects but whose charges to transient guests are usually exorbitant: here is also the main recreation field where cricket, tennis and football are played every afternoon by both natives and europeans. [illustration: a hindu temple. rickishas passing.] while these churches, residences and parks (including the well-known botanical gardens) are interesting, it is the oriental element that has the greatest charm for those from other lands. a rickisha ride through the teeming streets of the chinese or malay quarters, especially at night, is most interesting. if taken during the day a chinese funeral procession with its banners, bands and tom-toms may be met; in fact the death-rate among the squalid chinese residents is so high that funerals are of very frequent occurrence. [illustration: the mosque at jahore.] at the docks and other gathering places one is fascinated by the constantly shifting sea of strange faces and costumes; sometimes the lack of costume is more noticeable than the costume, as among the coolies or laborers from india or arabia. chinese, japanese, various races of malays and east indians, jostle elbows with englishmen, americans and every other race under the sun except perhaps, the american indian. it is surely a motley throng and the tower of babel was nowhere compared to this conglomeration of tongues. the oriental is a rather mild individual as a rule and wrangling and fighting is probably less common than among occidental communities. several interesting temples are to be seen in singapore; their quaint architecture is always interesting to the occidental tourist, and the hideous images to be seen within will repay the trouble of removing one's shoes, which must be done before admittance is granted. [illustration: canal and market place at jahore.] when the sights of the city have been exhausted a visit to jahore on the mainland (singapore is on a small island) of the malay peninsula will be interesting. here is the summer palace of h. h. the sultan of jahore; also a large and handsome mosque. here is also a wide-open gambling establishment where hundreds of chinese may be seen playing "fantan." on the return from jahore, if interested in such things, a visit to a rubber estate may be made, and the whole process in the manufacture of rubber may be seen in a few hours; it is a strange and fascinating process and is, perhaps, the most important industry of the federated malay states. it is interesting to compare singapore which has been a british colony for nearly a century with manila, a city of about the same size, that has been under american rule for less than two decades. the results that have been accomplished in the latter place along the lines of sanitation, education, and other civilizing influences should make an american proud of his native land. vi. how rubber is made. one of the principal products of the malay peninsula is rubber. like most people who have never happened to investigate the matter my ideas as to the way in which an automobile tire is extracted from a tree were very hazy; so, with another american, who had charge of a mission school in singapore, i boarded the jahore express on the f. m. s. r. r. (f. m. s. meaning federated malay states) and after a run of half an hour arrived at the bukit timar rubber estate some ten miles northwest of singapore. the bukit timar is an up-to-date plantation of more than one hundred thousand trees, and here we saw the whole process, from tree to sheet rubber, as shipped to all parts of the world and sold by the pound. rubber trees grow to a considerable size, but this being a young plantation most of the trees were not over six or eight inches in diameter. in the middle of the estate was a very attractive bungalow where lived the manager and his wife, a young english couple, and the former very courteously showed us about his place and explained the different processes. "tapping" begins at daybreak, and all the juice or _latex_ is collected before noon. dozens of native and chinese men and boys are employed in this process, some of the latter being so small that they can scarcely carry the two buckets of latex on the bamboo stick over the shoulder. in tapping, a very thin and narrow piece of bark is gouged off, just deep enough to make the tree bleed, but not deep enough to kill it; so that by the time the bark on one side of the tree has been cut away that on the opposite side has had time to regenerate. the process is thus a perpetual one and the tree lasts indefinitely. the exact method of tapping varies, but usually it is begun as two slanting grooves that converge to form a v. the latex oozes from the freshly cut bark, runs down the converging grooves to their point of union, and is caught in a small glass cup or other vessel suspended under a tiny spout at the apex of the v. the method of tapping shown in the photograph is different from this somewhat, though the principle is the same. the latex that oozes from the grooves is a pure white, sticky fluid resembling milk; about a tablespoonful is obtained each day from each tree. by the time each man has tapped or gouged all of the trees assigned to him (perhaps two or three hundred) the first-tapped trees have bled all they will for that day, so that collecting is begun at once. in each cup is a little water to prevent the latex from coagulating and sticking to the bottom. [illustration: home of the manager of the bukit timar rubber estate near singapore.] the first v is cut several feet from the ground, and the amount that is gouged from each side of the v each day is so very thin that it will be months before the apex of the v reaches the ground, by which time the regeneration of the first cuts will be well under way. after the flow of latex has ceased for the day a narrow strip hardens along each groove, like gum on a cherry tree. these little strips of rubber, with bits of adherent bark, as well as any drops that may have fallen to the ground, are collected in bags and carried to the factory to be made into sheets of cheap grades of commercial rubber. [illustration: a young rubber tree showing one method of tapping. the white lines are the latex running down the grooves into the glass cup at the bottom. above the two slanting lines is seen the scarred tissue where the bark has been gouged away. when the lower end of the lower line reaches the ground the tree will be tapped on the opposite side. the amount of latex in the cup seems greater than it really is because of the water upon which it floats. the size of the tree may be judged from the kodak case at its foot.] after the trees have been tapped the latex is collected in carefully cleaned tin buckets, brought to the factory and strained into huge earthenware tubs. it is then put into enamelware pans about twelve by thirty-six inches in size and three inches deep, and a very weak acid (usually acetic) is stirred into it. in about half an hour the acid coagulates the latex (like rennet in making junket from milk) into a soft, pure white mass, about two inches thick and of the area of the pan. this soft mass of rubber is carefully floated out of the pan onto a table, where it is rolled on both sides for a few minutes with a wooden rolling-pin to squeeze out the excess of water and acid. it is then carefully lifted into a large vessel of pure water to harden until the next day. [illustration: three latex gatherers. the boy in the middle of the group has the canvass bag over his shoulder in which he carries the scraps of dried rubber from the grooves on the trees.] the next day it is run several times through smooth steel rollers under dropping water, where it is flattened out into sheets of about an inch or less in thickness and of a proportionately greater area. it is next passed through roughened steel rollers that mark it off into ridges and depressions like a waffle. these sheets, now tough and elastic, are hung in a closed chamber and smoked until they reach a proper shade of brown, when they are ready for shipment. the smoking process, which is to preserve the rubber, often takes many days, though at the time of our visit the manager of the bukit timar estate was experimenting with a method that would complete the smoking in a few hours. the production of rubber in the malay peninsula is of rather recent date and it has increased by leaps and bounds. in the various "booms" that have taken place many fortunes have been made--as witnessed by the palatial residences about singapore--but many have also been lost, though the witnesses to these are not so evident. [illustration: the traveler palm, an unusual type often seen in the far east singapore and elsewhere.] whether the increased demands for rubber will justify the thousands of young trees that are still being planted, not only on the malay peninsula but on borneo and other islands of the far east, remains to be seen; but, judging from the opinions of several rubber experts of singapore, this is quite doubtful. vii. two chinese cities. after a voyage (unusually calm for the china sea) of four days from singapore, the s. s. "bülow" slowly steamed among the islands at the entrance and came to anchor just after sunset in the beautiful harbor of hongkong. there is really no _city_ of hongkong, though letters so directed will reach their destination, and even the residents of the city in whose harbor we were anchored would have spoken of living in hongkong. the name "hongkong" belongs to the small island, ten miles long by three wide, that lies about a mile from the mainland of china. along the north or land side of this island lies the city of victoria, with a population of , , commonly known by the name of the entire island, hongkong. practically the whole island is occupied by mountains of a maximum height of about feet, so that the town has only a narrow strip of level ground along the beach and extends in scattered fashion to the very top of the ridge. as we came to anchor the twinkling lights of the streets and houses were just beginning to appear, and in a little while, when the short tropical twilight had changed to darkness, the shore line was a mass of lights which gradually became more scattered toward the hill-tops, where often a single light marked the location of some isolated residence. across the harbor another smaller group of lights showed the position of kowloon, a small seaport on the mainland and the southern terminus of the kowloon and canton railroad. on the water between the two towns, really one great harbor, were thousands of lights, indicating the position of invisible steamships, junks, tugs, launches and sampans. most of these lights were stationary, showing that the vessels to which they belonged were at anchor, but some of them were in motion, and hardly had we come slowly to a standstill and dropped anchor before we were besieged by a swarm of launches and sampans all clamoring for passengers to take ashore. as is customary in the east, steamers usually anchor in the harbor at hongkong at some distance from shore, so that the larger hotels, as well as cook's agency, have private launches to take passengers ashore. since it was rather late to see anything of the town most of the cabin passengers preferred to remain on board for the night, and the view of the lights of the harbor and town as seen from the ship was well worth enjoying for one evening. [illustration: view on "the peak"; governor's residence in the left background.] the next morning we were able to see the meaning of the lights of the night before. the business part of the town, with its crowded chinese sections and its fine municipal and office buildings, lies as a narrow strip along the shore, while struggling up the mountain side are the residences, churches, schools, etc. of the english and wealthy chinese residents. on this mountain side is also a most beautiful and interesting botanical garden. on the highest point of "the peak," as the main peak of the range is called, is a weather observatory and signal station, and from this point one of the most beautiful views in the world may be obtained; to the south, the open china sea, with numberless green islands extending almost to the horizon; to the north, the mainland of china, fringed with low mountains; between the mainland and the island the long, narrow strait forming the harbors of victoria and kowloon; at the foot of the mountain the densely crowded business streets; and extending up the almost precipitous northern slopes of the mountain the beautiful, often palatial homes of the wealthy residents. winding along the mountain sides a number of fine roads and paths give access to these homes, but to reach the higher levels, especially, there may be seen the cable tramway, going so straight up the side of the mountain that it is almost alarming to look forward or back from the open cars. the homes nearer the foot of the mountain are usually reached by means of sedan chairs carried by two, three or even four coolies, while in the level business section the usual means of travel are the electric cars and the ever-ready rickishas. horses are practically unknown except for racing purposes; carts are pulled by chinese coolies instead of by horses, and merchandise is carried by coolies in baskets or bales on the shoulders. it is an interesting though unpleasant sight to see strings of chinese men and women toiling up the steep sides of the mountain, carrying stones, cement, window frames, timbers, and all other material used in building the palaces in which the wealthy people live. for a day of this back-breaking labor they are paid about what one of their rich employers would give for one of his best cigars. every stick, stone and nail in all of these houses has been carried up all these hundreds of feet on the backs of men and women, chiefly the latter. [illustration: chinese junks in the harbor of canton.] in a beautiful little level valley between the bases of two of the mountains is the play ground of hongkong, known as "happy valley"; here are tennis courts, a golf course, etc. overlooked on either side, rather incongruously, by a chinese and a christian burial ground. having visited the various points of interest about hongkong, which is really a part of the british empire (ceded by the chinese in ) though a vast majority of its residents are chinese, i decided to have a look at a real chinese city, canton, located about ninety miles up the canton river. as canton happened to be in the throes of a revolution at that time, people were flocking by the thousands from there to hongkong. cook's agency was warning people to keep away, and hongkong papers had as headlines "serious outlook in canton"; but i did not expect ever to have another chance to visit this typical chinese city, so i boarded one of the boats of the french line that left hongkong late in the evening for the run up the river. i learned later that one of these boats had been "shot up" a few days before by the revolutionists, and that a number of the passengers had been killed. however we were not molested, and reached canton about eight the next morning. after daylight we were able to get an idea of the country on either bank of the muddy river; it was low and marshy, every acre being planted in rice. occasionally, on a slight elevation, would be seen a pagoda-shaped temple, standing lonely among the rice fields, where doubtless it had stood for many centuries. at frequent intervals we passed small native boats, some of them with sails and loaded with goods, most of them rowed by one or more oars. it was to be noticed that when there was only one oar it was being worked vigorously by a woman, while a man sat comfortably in the stern and steered. these people were evidently going from the crowded villages in which they lived to work in the rice fields. at canton the river, which is there only a few hundred yards wide, was jammed with craft of all kinds, including one or two small war vessels and hundreds, probably thousands, of _sampans_. the latter carry passengers and small quantities of freight; they are roofed over more or less completely and serve as the homes of the owners' families, all the members of which take a hand in the rowing. [illustration: sampans in the harbour of canton.] the foreign (mostly english and french) quarter of canton is known as "the shameen" (meaning sand-bank), a small island in the river connected with the city proper by a couple of bridges. it has beautifully shaded streets and fine houses, and is utterly different from the chinese canton. at the shameen's one hotel, which charges the modest rate of from four to eight dollars per day for very ordinary service, i was told that conditions were "very uncertain" and that nobody was allowed to enter the walled city after p. m. without a pass. [illustration: a wide street in canton.] a guide having thrust his services upon me before i could get off the boat, we left the shameen, crossed one of the bridges and plunged into the network of streets where, without a guide, a stranger would be lost in a few minutes. in a few of the streets outside of the walled city rickishas are the usual means of travel, but inside the walls most of the streets are too narrow for rickishas to pass one another, and paving of large flagstones is too rough for wheels, so that the sedan chair is the only means of locomotion except one's own legs. my self-appointed guide said he would get chairs for seven dollars per day ($ . in american money) but i told him i expected to walk and that if he wanted to go with me he would have to do likewise; he immediately professed to think that walking was the only way to go, so we agreed to see the town afoot. after we had walked pretty briskly for three or four hours he inquired meekly, "can you walk this way all day?" people in the tropics are not usually fond of walking, but ping nam was "game" and made no further remarks about my method of locomotion. some of the less frequented streets where there were no sun-screens overhead were very hot, but in the busy streets the sun was almost excluded by bamboo screens and by the walls of the houses on each side, so that the heat was not nearly so oppressive as might be expected in so terribly congested a city. many of these streets were so narrow that a tall man could touch the houses on each side with outstretched hands. on each side were stores of all sorts with open fronts with gay signs and with gayly colored goods on display, making a picture of wonderful fascination and everchanging interest. although we wandered for hour after hour through a perfect wilderness of such streets we saw not a single white person; it seemed as though i were the only caucasian among the more than a million asiatics, though this, of course, was not actually the case. in the busier streets the crowds filled the space from wall to wall, so that when a string of coolies came along, bearing burdens in the usual manner from a stick over the shoulder and humming the cheerful though monotonous "get-out-of-the-way" tune, we had to step aside, close against or into some store to let them pass; and when an occasional chair came along it swept the entire traffic aside as a taxi might in a crowded alley of an american city. in spite of the density of the population the people all seemed happy and contented; even the little children with faces covered with sores, as was often the case, appeared cheerful, and ran and played like other children. in the stores the people could be watched at work of all kinds, from blacksmithy to finest filigree silver work inlaid with the tiny colored feathers of the brightly colored kingfisher; and from rough carpenter work to the finest ivory carving for which the chinese are famous. of course the amount they pay for some of this work of extreme skill is ridiculously small, yet their living expenses are so small that they are doubtless in better circumstances than many of the workers in our larger cities. the silk-weavers, working at their primitive looms in crowded rooms, excite one's sympathy more than most of the other workers, though they too seemed to be quite cheerful over their monotonous tasks. [illustration: court of an ancestral temple in canton.] through these crowded streets we wandered, the sight of a white man and a camera exciting some interest, though not a great deal. canton is said to have been the scene of more outrages of one sort or another than any other city in the world, but in spite of the fact that a revolution was supposed to be in progress we saw no signs of disorder. there were soldiers and armed policemen everywhere, and groups of people were frequently seen reading with interest proclamations posted at various places; what the nature of the proclamations was i was, of course, not able of myself to learn, and ping nam did not seem to care to enlighten me, possibly thinking he might scare me out of town and thus lose his job. occasionally stopping to watch some skilful artisan at work or to make some small purchase, we went from place to place visiting temples and other objects of especial interest. some of these temples are centuries old, others are comparatively new. some are comparatively plain, others like the modern chun-ka-chi ancestral temple, which is said to have cost $ , "gold," are wonderfully ornate, with highly colored carvings and cement mouldings. others are of interest chiefly because of the hideous images they contain; one of these has hundreds of these idols and is hence known as the "temple of the five hundred genii." [illustration: entrance of the "temple of the five hundred genii," canton.] after visiting several of these temples and the picturesque flowery pagoda we set out for the famous water clock that is said to have been built more than thirteen hundred years ago. it is now located in a dark little room in the top of an old house and is reached by a winding flight of outside stone stairs. it consists of four large jars of water, one above the other, so that the water may run slowly, at a definite rate, from the upper to the lower jars, and gradually raise, in the lowest jar, a float with an attached vertical scale that tells the time. in the window visible from the street below signs are placed at intervals that tell the time indicated by the clock. from the water clock we visited the ancient "city of the dead," a small cemetery just outside one of the old city gates. these gates, some of which are large and imposing, pierce the dilapidated wall at intervals. the wall, about six miles in circumference, is surrounded by the remains of a moat, now chiefly useful as an addition to the picturesque landscape and as a breeding place for mosquitoes. the top of a city gate, reached by a winding stone stairway from within, is a convenient place from which to view the densely crowded roofs of the adjacent part of the city. [illustration: the flowery pagoda, canton.] from the "city of the dead" we made for the fairly wide street along the river front; here we took rickishas, much to the relief of my tired guide, to say nothing of my tired self, and were soon at the canton terminus of the k. & c. r. r. the station was thronged with people waiting for the kowloon express. the road-bed of the k. & c. r. r. is excellent, and the cars and engine, all of english make, made a very respectable appearance. for nearly half of the distance to kowloon i had my section of the one first-class car to myself, as i was the only caucasian on the train: then an english civil engineer and his family came aboard and shared my compartment for the rest of the way. the second-and third-class cars, of which there were half a dozen or more, were crowded with natives, with boxes and bundles of all sorts and sizes. [illustration: a city gate and parts of the wall and moat, as seen from the "city of the dead," canton.] after making the run of about ninety miles in something less than three hours we reached the ferry at kowloon, and in a quarter of an hour more we were again in hongkong, as different from canton as though it were on the other side of the world instead of being only three hours away. viii. meanderings in modern manila. manila, after twenty years of american control, is a fascinating mixture of past and present; of romance and commercialism; of oriental ease and occidental hustle. enter through one of the beautiful old city gates, say the santa lucia, which bears the date , and one finds himself in the old or walled city, intramuros, still very spanish in its appearance, though the government offices and other public buildings are here located. the massive gray stone wall, started in the early part of the seventeenth century, was originally surrounded by a moat, with drawbridges. it is said that a very efficient american official once suggested the desirability of having the wall whitewashed; fortunately his idea was not carried out. in contrast to the comparative quiet of the narrow streets of the intramuros the docks along the pasig river, that flows through the heart of the town, present a scene of bustle and confusion worthy of a city of its size, some , inhabitants. here may be seen vessels of all sorts, from all parts of the world: steamships, junks, tugs, rowboats, and _cascos_, the last being the name given the native barge for carrying freight. the casco is covered by a roof of matting, made in sliding sections, with a cabin in the stern where the family of the owner lives. while there is an excellent electric street railway system and plenty of automobiles to be had, the common method of getting about is to 'phone for, or to hail, a passing one-horse vehicle, of which there are three distinct types charging different fares for the same service; the more expensive vehicles are, however, more comfortable and have better horses. like the taxi-driver of new york or the rickisha-man of singapore the driver of the _caratella_ or _caramata_ will charge all the traffic will bear, and it is well for the newcomer to inquire of an old resident what the proper fare for a given distance is before starting. [illustration: santa lucia gate. one of the entrances to the walled city. erected .] the typical vehicle for hauling freight is the low, two-wheeled cart, drawn by the slow-moving, long-horned _carabao_ or water buffalo, one of the most characteristic animals of the islands. this beast is well-named, since it delights to lie buried in a muddy pool of water, with just its head above the surface. it may be seen in the larger lakes, swimming or wading in the deeper waters at a distance from the shore. in the cities it is a quiet, peaceful brute that one brushes against without a thought, but in the country, where is browses in the open fields, it behooves the white man to be very circumspect as he passes in its neighborhood, for it seems to have an aversion to the caucasian race and will frequently charge in a very unpleasant, not to say dangerous, way. it is said that the carabao never shows this hostility toward the natives. a peculiarity of the law is such that should a man shoot a dangerous carabao to protect his own life he would have to pay for the animal he killed. [illustration: part of the wall of the walled city. seen from the outside.] of course for small amounts of freight, in manila as in all places in the orient, the ubiquitous chinese coolie is the usual means of transportation, and with a huge load at each end of a bamboo pole across his shoulder he shambles along with a curious gait, between a walk and a run, that he seems capable of sustaining for an almost indefinite time. [illustration: pasig river, part of the harbor of manila. casco in right foreground, with matting roof.] the "chino" of course is the merchant of manila as of all the cities of this part of the world. the main shopping street, the escolta, is fairly lined with chinese stores of all sorts, some of them quite extensive; and some of the narrower side streets, in the same neighborhood, have practically no other stores than those kept by the chinese. it is wonderfully interesting to wander about these narrow, winding streets, and into the dark, sometimes ill-smelling stores, but one should early learn the gentle art of "jewing down" the prices that are first asked for goods that are offered for sale. the oriental always asks much more than he is willing or even eager to accept. you ask the price of a garment, say, and are told "two pesos": you shake your head and say "too much": "peso and half" will then be tried: you again say "too much" and perhaps turn as though to leave the shop; "how much you give?" says the crafty merchant; "one peso," perhaps you suggest; "take it," says the eager merchant as he hands you an article that should probably sell for half the amount paid. you leave the store feeling good over having gotten ahead of the crafty oriental, and he probably chuckles to himself over having cheated the rich american. [illustration: a caramata. the taxi of the lower classes in manila.] [illustration: a carabao and cart.] most of the shopping is done in the morning or late in the afternoon. for several hours, during the heat of the day, many of the stores are closed while the proprietors enjoy a midday lunch and siesta. [illustration: plaza de santo tomas.] when tired of shopping or sight-seeing one may wander into a nearby church or rest in some public park or square, such as the plaza de santo tomas. many of these old squares are exceedingly picturesque and attractive. the different sections of the city are given distinct names, as though they were separate towns, but they are separated by imaginary lines only. in one of the more residential of these sections is the great manila general hospital, an up-to-date, modern plant; nearby is the main part of the university of the philippines, whose students, it is said, compare quite favorably with the average college students of america. in this same neighborhood is also the main part of the philippine bureau of science, where trained chemists, geologists, botanists, zoologists, bacteriologists, engineers, and other scientific experts are engaged in numerous lines of investigation of importance to the welfare of the islands. most of these experts have, in the past, been drawn from the united states, as have the professors in the university. just what will be the condition of affairs in these high-grade institutions when the islands are entirely under native control is somewhat problematic. [illustration: main building of the university of the philippines.] while the hotels are not numerous in manila one may secure the best of modern service by going to the manila hotel, down on the water-front, just off the great promenade and playground known as the lunetta, where everybody goes at night to see everybody else and to listen to the band. or one may see more of the native, especially the spanish, life of the town by stopping at the hotel de spain, in the heart of the town, just off the escolta. here one may be quite, if not luxuriously, comfortable at a much more reasonable rate, and may enjoy watching the spanish and other foreign guests of the hotel instead of the usual crowd of military and other well-dressed americans that frequent the manila hotel. [illustration: main building of the philippine bureau of science.] although the population of manila largely adheres to the roman catholic church, many of the protestant denominations have churches of their own, and a flourishing y. m. c. a., with a fine, modern building, is available for the men of the city. life in such a town is certainly very attractive, and there is a charm about the place that makes one wish to return; but it is a long, long way from home and from many of the things that may be had only in the greater countries of europe and america. ix. a pacific paradise, honolulu. the long voyage to or from the orient is delightfully interrupted by the stop at honolulu, capital of the hawaiian islands, about , miles southwest of san "francisco. this interesting group of volcanic islands named in by their discoverer, jas. cook, the sandwich islands after the earl of sandwich, then lord of the british admiralty, is said to be the most isolated group of inhabited islands in the world. it is possible that the real discoverer of the islands was not jas. cook, but a spanish seaman named juan gaetano, who sighted them in . cook and his men were treated as supernatural beings and worshiped by the superstitious natives as gods, until the death of one of the sailors showed that they were mere mortals; and in , by their overbearing conduct, the englishmen came into conflict with the irate natives and jas. cook was killed. "his body was taken to a _heiau_ or temple; the flesh was removed from the bones and burned, and the bones were tied up with red feathers and deified. parts of the body were recovered, however, and committed to the deep with military honors, and a part of the bones were kept in the temple of lono and worshiped until , when they were concealed in some secret place. a monument erected by his fellow countrymen now marks the place where he fell on the shores of kealakekua." in the queen was deposed and a provisional government was established, to be succeeded, in , by the republic of hawaii. in , by an act of congress, the hawaiian islands became a territory of the united states. of the one hundred and ninety and odd thousands of inhabitants of the islands, in , nearly eighty thousand were japanese. the native hawaiians come next in point of numbers and are the most interesting people to the average tourist. though dark-skinned, they are quite different in appearance from the negro, and many of the young men and women are decidedly good-looking. as the vessel enters the beautiful harbor, with the city of honolulu spread out along the shore and the mountains rising abruptly in the immediate background, the well-formed young men and boys are seen alongside in the water or in native boats, ready to dive for the coins that the passengers seem always ready to throw to them. these amphibious people, like most of those in the tropics, are perfectly at home in the water and seem never to tire, no matter how far they may go to meet the incoming vessels, as they slowly wind their way through the tortuous channels among the treacherous coral reefs. [illustration: diamond head, a fortified extinct volcano. at the entrance to the harbor of honolulu.] to the south of the entrance to the harbor, which it guards with batteries of concealed cannon and mortars, is the extinct volcanic mountain known as diamond head, shown from the land side in the picture. a grass-covered, bowl-shaped crater of perhaps half a mile diameter may be entered through a tunnel on the land side, where fort ruger is situated. the rim of the crater, which is only a few hundred feet high, may be easily scaled and in most places affords easy walking and a fine view of the harbor. in the higher portion of the rim, seen in the right of the photograph, is a heavy battery of big guns, concealed in passages in the solid rock, that could probably protect the entrance of the harbor below from any ordinary fleet. visitors are not allowed to see these rock-hidden batteries, whose existence would never be suspected from the smooth, apparently unbroken surface of the rock as seen from the harbor. like many other beautiful places, hawaii is said to have the "most perfect climate in the world." add to this wonderful climate and beautiful scenery, of sea and mountains combined, the fact that there is supposed to be not a snake nor a poisonous plant nor an insect worse than bees in all the islands, it would seem that this is truly a paradise, without even the serpent to cause trouble. for the tourist there are excellent hotels and all the conveniences of a continental city, and amusements of sufficient variety to suit the most blase. for those who are merely stopping off for a day on the way to or from more distant ports it is hard to decide which of the many interesting places to visit. if it be his first visit, the mere city streets with the royal palms and other magnificent trees, the stores, the cosmopolitan crowds and other strange sights and sounds will be fascinating. a drive to the punchbowl, the poli, or more distant points, may be taken in a few hours, while if interested in natural history the gorgeous fishes and other marine forms to be seen at the aquarium will be a revelation to one accustomed only to the life of the temperate zone. at the bishop museum the natural history, ethnology, etc., of the islands may be studied in a synoptic form. it is here that the famous war-cloak of kamehameha i is on exhibition. it is a truly wonderful garment, four feet long, with a spread of ten feet or more at the bottom. it is made of the yellow feathers of the mama bird, and when it is realized that each bird furnishes but two small tufts of feathers, one under each wing, it will be imagined how many thousands of these small birds were sacrificed to make this one robe. it is valued at $ , . it is carefully protected from dust and light but is exhibited to visitors to the museum. in the cool of the evening, when tired from a day of sight-seeing, the traveler may listen to the honolulu band, on some public square. it is composed of native musicians, but the instruments are those of the ordinary american brass band, and but for the cosmopolitan character of the audience one might imagine himself in a city of southern california or some other subtropical part of the united states. besides having the most equable climate in the world honolulu claims the most perfect bathing-resort on earth, waikiki beach. the water is certainly all that could be desired, but the not infrequent sharp masses of coral that project up through the white sand of the otherwise perfect beach are decidedly objectionable, and the writer cut a gash in his foot, by stepping on one of these pieces of coral, that was many days in healing. [illustration: royal palms, honolulu.] another of the points of interest in the city is the royal mausoleum, where are the bodies of many of the royalty of the hawaiian dynasties. the hawaiian alphabet consists of but twelve letters, and the preponderance of vowels in many words seems remarkable to an english-speaking person. for example one of the bodies in the royal mausoleum is that of "kaiminaauao, sister of queen kalakaua"; it will be noticed that eight of the eleven letters in this name are vowels. in this mausoleum doubtless now rest the remains of liliuokalani, the last queen of hawaii, who was deposed in for attempting to force a less liberal constitution upon the people. she married an american and twice visited the united states, after his death. if time permit, and the pocketbook too, most interesting side trips to the other islands of the group may be made, especially to the active volcano, mauna loa, , feet high, with kilauea on its eastern slope, situated on the island of hawaii. while the hawaiian islands may not be as perfect as they are advertised, they nevertheless give a very fair imitation of paradise, and a better place in which to rest and enjoy nature in her kindest moods would be hard to find. transcriber's notes: inconsistencies in the hyphenation of words retained. (nearby, near-by) pg. , unusual spelling of word "variagated" retained. (and large and variagated smells) the soul of the far east by percival lowell contents chapter . individuality chapter . family chapter . adoption chapter . language chapter . nature and art chapter . art chapter . religion chapter . imagination chapter . individuality. the boyish belief that on the other side of our globe all things are of necessity upside down is startlingly brought back to the man when he first sets foot at yokohama. if his initial glance does not, to be sure, disclose the natives in the every-day feat of standing calmly on their heads, an attitude which his youthful imagination conceived to be a necessary consequence of their geographical position, it does at least reveal them looking at the world as if from the standpoint of that eccentric posture. for they seem to him to see everything topsy-turvy. whether it be that their antipodal situation has affected their brains, or whether it is the mind of the observer himself that has hitherto been wrong in undertaking to rectify the inverted pictures presented by his retina, the result, at all events, is undeniable. the world stands reversed, and, taking for granted his own uprightness, the stranger unhesitatingly imputes to them an obliquity of vision, a state of mind outwardly typified by the cat-like obliqueness of their eyes. if the inversion be not precisely of the kind he expected, it is none the less striking, and impressibly more real. if personal experience has definitely convinced him that the inhabitants of that under side of our planet do not adhere to it head downwards, like flies on a ceiling,--his early a priori deduction,--they still appear quite as antipodal, mentally considered. intellectually, at least, their attitude sets gravity at defiance. for to the mind's eye their world is one huge, comical antithesis of our own. what we regard intuitively in one way from our standpoint, they as intuitively observe in a diametrically opposite manner from theirs. to speak backwards, write backwards, read backwards, is but the a b c of their contrariety. the inversion extends deeper than mere modes of expression, down into the very matter of thought. ideas of ours which we deemed innate find in them no home, while methods which strike us as preposterously unnatural appear to be their birthright. from the standing of a wet umbrella on its handle instead of its head to dry to the striking of a match away in place of toward one, there seems to be no action of our daily lives, however trivial, but finds with them its appropriate reaction--equal but opposite. indeed, to one anxious of conforming to the manners and customs of the country, the only road to right lies in following unswervingly that course which his inherited instincts assure him to be wrong. yet these people are human beings; with all their eccentricities they are men. physically we cannot but be cognizant of the fact, nor mentally but be conscious of it. like us, indeed, and yet so unlike are they that we seem, as we gaze at them, to be viewing our own humanity in some mirth-provoking mirror of the mind,--a mirror that shows us our own familiar thoughts, but all turned wrong side out. humor holds the glass, and we become the sport of our own reflections. but is it otherwise at home? do not our personal presentments mock each of us individually our lives long? who but is the daily dupe of his dressing-glass, and complacently conceives himself to be a very different appearing person from what he is, forgetting that his right side has become his left, and vice versa? yet who, when by chance he catches sight in like manner of the face of a friend, can keep from smiling at the caricatures which the mirror's left-for-right reversal makes of the asymmetry of that friend's features,--caricatures all the more grotesque for being utterly unsuspected by their innocent original? perhaps, could we once see ourselves as others see us, our surprise in the case of foreign peoples might be less pronounced. regarding, then, the far oriental as a man, and not simply as a phenomenon, we discover in his peculiar point of view a new importance,--the possibility of using it stereoptically. for his mind-photograph of the world can be placed side by side with ours, and the two pictures combined will yield results beyond what either alone could possibly have afforded. thus harmonized, they will help us to realize humanity. indeed it is only by such a combination of two different aspects that we ever perceive substance and distinguish reality from illusion. what our two eyes make possible for material objects, the earth's two hemispheres may enable us to do for mental traits. only the superficial never changes its expression; the appearance of the solid varies with the standpoint of the observer. in dreamland alone does everything seem plain, and there all is unsubstantial. to say that the japanese are not a savage tribe is of course unnecessary; to repeat the remark, anything but superfluous, on the principle that what is a matter of common notoriety is very apt to prove a matter about which uncommonly little is known. at present we go halfway in recognition of these people by bestowing upon them a demi-diploma of mental development called semi-civilization, neglecting, however, to specify in what the fractional qualification consists. if the suggestion of a second moiety, as of something directly complementary to them, were not indirectly complimentary to ourselves, the expression might pass; but, as it is, the self-praise is rather too obvious to carry conviction. for japan's claim to culture is not based solely upon the exports with which she supplements our art, nor upon the paper, china, and bric-a-brac with which she adorns our rooms; any more than western science is adequately represented in japan by our popular imports there of kerosene oil, matches, and beer. only half civilized the far east presumably is, but it is so rather in an absolute than a relative sense; in the sense of what might have been, not of what is. it is so as compared, not with us, but with the eventual possibilities of humanity. as yet, neither system, western nor eastern, is perfect enough to serve in all things as standard for the other. the light of truth has reached each hemisphere through the medium of its own mental crystallization, and this has polarized it in opposite ways, so that now the rays that are normal to the eyes of the one only produce darkness to those of the other. for the japanese civilization in the sense of not being savagery is the equal of our own. it is not in the polish that the real difference lies; it is in the substance polished. in politeness, in delicacy, they have as a people no peers. art has been their mistress, though science has never been their master. perhaps for this very reason that art, not science, has been the muse they courted, the result has been all the more widespread. for culture there is not the attainment of the few, but the common property of the people. if the peaks of intellect rise less eminent, the plateau of general elevation stands higher. but little need be said to prove the civilization of a land where ordinary tea-house girls are models of refinement, and common coolies, when not at work, play chess for pastime. if japanese ways look odd at first sight, they but look more odd on closer acquaintance. in a land where, to allow one's understanding the freer play of indoor life, one begins, not by taking off his hat, but by removing his boots, he gets at the very threshold a hint that humanity is to be approached the wrong end to. when, after thus entering a house, he tries next to gain admittance to the mind of its occupant, the suspicion becomes a certainty. he discovers that this people talk, so to speak, backwards; that before he can hope to comprehend them, or make himself understood in return, he must learn to present his thoughts arranged in inverse order from the one in which they naturally suggest themselves to his mind. his sentences must all be turned inside out. he finds himself lost in a labyrinth of language. the same seems to be true of the thoughts it embodies. the further he goes the more obscure the whole process becomes, until, after long groping about for some means of orienting himself, he lights at last upon the clue. this clue consists in "the survival of the unfittest." in the civilization of japan we have presented to us a most interesting case of partially arrested development; or, to speak esoterically, we find ourselves placed face to face with a singular example of a completed race-life. for though from our standpoint the evolution of these people seems suddenly to have come to an end in mid-career, looked at more intimately it shows all the signs of having fully run its course. development ceased, not because of outward obstruction, but from purely intrinsic inability to go on. the intellectual machine was not shattered; it simply ran down. to this fact the phenomenon owes its peculiar interest. for we behold here in the case of man the same spectacle that we see cosmically in the case of the moon, the spectacle of a world that has died of old age. no weak spot in their social organism destroyed them from within; no epidemic, in the shape of foreign hordes, fell upon them from without. for in spite of the fact that china offers the unique example of a country that has simply lived to be conquered, mentally her masters have invariably become her pupils. having ousted her from her throne as ruler, they proceeded to sit at her feet as disciples. thus they have rather helped than hindered her civilization. whatever portion of the far east we examine we find its mental history to be the same story with variations. however unlike china, korea, and japan are in some respects, through the careers of all three we can trace the same life-spirit. it is the career of the river jordan rising like any other stream from the springs among the mountains only to fall after a brief existence into the dead sea. for their vital force had spent itself more than a millennium ago. already, then, their civilization had in its deeper developments attained its stature, and has simply been perfecting itself since. we may liken it to some stunted tree, that, finding itself prevented from growth, bastes the more luxuriantly to put forth flowers and fruit. for not the final but the medial processes were skipped. in those superficial amenities with which we more particularly link our idea of civilization, these peoples continued to grow. their refinement, if failing to reach our standard in certain respects, surpasses ours considering the bare barbaric basis upon which it rests. for it is as true of the japanese as of the proverbial russian, though in a more scientific sense, that if you scratch him you will find the ancestral tartar. but it is no less true that the descendants of this rude forefather have now taken on a polish of which their own exquisite lacquer gives but a faint reflection. the surface was perfected after the substance was formed. our word finish, with its double meaning, expresses both the process and the result. there entered, to heighten the bizarre effect, a spirit common in minds that lack originality--the spirit of imitation. though consequent enough upon a want of initiative, the results of this trait appear anything but natural to people of a more progressive past. the proverbial collar and pair of spurs look none the less odd to the stranger for being a mental instead of a bodily habit. something akin to such a case of unnatural selection has there taken place. the orderly procedure of natural evolution was disastrously supplemented by man. for the fact that in the growth of their tree of knowledge the branches developed out of all proportion to the trunk is due to a practice of culture-grafting. from before the time when they began to leave records of their actions the japanese have been a nation of importers, not of merchandise, but of ideas. they have invariably shown the most advanced free-trade spirit in preferring to take somebody else's ready-made articles rather than to try to produce any brand-new conceptions themselves. they continue to follow the same line of life. a hearty appreciation of the things of others is still one of their most winning traits. what they took they grafted bodily upon their ancestral tree, which in consequence came to present a most unnaturally diversified appearance. for though not unlike other nations in wishing to borrow, if their zeal in the matter was slightly excessive, they were peculiar in that they never assimilated what they took. they simply inserted it upon the already existing growth. there it remained, and throve, and blossomed, nourished by that indigenous japanese sap, taste. but like grafts generally, the foreign boughs were not much modified by their new life-blood, nor was the tree in its turn at all affected by them. connected with it only as separable parts of its structure, the cuttings might have been lopped off again without influencing perceptibly the condition of the foster-parent stem. the grafts in time grew to be great branches, but the trunk remained through it all the trunk of a sapling. in other words, the nation grew up to man's estate, keeping the mind of its childhood. what is thus true of the japanese is true likewise of the koreans and of the chinese. the three peoples, indeed, form so many links in one long chain of borrowing. china took from india, then korea copied china, and lastly japan imitated korea. in this simple manner they successively became possessed of a civilization which originally was not the property of any one of them. in the eagerness they all evinced in purloining what was not theirs, and in the perfect content with which they then proceeded to enjoy what they had taken, they remind us forcibly of that happy-go-lucky class in the community which prefers to live on questionable loans rather than work itself for a living. like those same individuals, whatever interest the far eastern people may succeed in raising now, nature will in the end make them pay dearly for their lack of principal. the far eastern civilization resembles, in fact, more a mechanical mixture of social elements than a well differentiated chemical compound. for in spite of the great variety of ingredients thrown into its caldron of destiny, as no affinity existed between them, no combination resulted. the power to fuse was wanting. capability to evolve anything is not one of the marked characteristics of the far east. indeed, the tendency to spontaneous variation, nature's mode of making experiments, would seem there to have been an enterprising faculty that was exhausted early. sleepy, no doubt, from having got up betimes with the dawn, these dwellers in the far lands of the morning began to look upon their day as already well spent before they had reached its noon. they grew old young, and have remained much the same age ever since. what they were centuries ago, that at bottom they are to-day. take away the european influence of the last twenty years, and each man might almost be his own great-grandfather. in race characteristics he is yet essentially the same. the traits that distinguished these peoples in the past have been gradually extinguishing them ever since. of these traits, stagnating influences upon their career, perhaps the most important is the great quality of impersonality. if we take, through the earth's temperate zone, a belt of country whose northern and southern edges are determined by certain limiting isotherms, not more than half the width of the zone apart, we shall find that we have included in a relatively small extent of surface almost all the nations of note in the world, past or present. now if we examine this belt, and compare the different parts of it with one another, we shall be struck by a remarkable fact. the peoples inhabiting it grow steadily more personal as we go west. so unmistakable is this gradation of spirit, that one is tempted to ascribe it to cosmic rather than to human causes. it is as marked as the change in color of the human complexion observable along any meridian, which ranges from black at the equator to blonde toward the pole. in like manner, the sense of self grows more intense as we follow in the wake of the setting sun, and fades steadily as we advance into the dawn. america, europe, the levant, india, japan, each is less personal than the one before. we stand at the nearer end of the scale, the far orientals at the other. if with us the i seems to be of the very essence of the soul, then the soul of the far east may be said to be impersonality. curious as this characteristic is as a fact, it is even more interesting as a factor. for what it betokens of these peoples in particular may suggest much about man generally. it may mark a stride in theory, if a standstill in practice. possibly it may help us to some understanding of ourselves. not that it promises much aid to vexed metaphysical questions, but as a study in sociology it may not prove so vain. and for a thing which is always with us, its discussion may be said to be peculiarly opportune just now. for it lies at the bottom of the most pressing questions of the day. of the two great problems that stare the western world in the face at the present moment, both turn to it for solution. agnosticism, the foreboding silence of those who think, socialism, communism, and nihilism, the petulant cry of those who do not, alike depend ultimately for the right to be upon the truth or the falsity of the sense of self. for if there be no such actual thing as individuality, if the feeling we call by that name be naught but the transient illusion the buddhists would have us believe it, any faith founded upon it as basis vanishes as does the picture in a revolving kaleidoscope,--less enduring even than the flitting phantasmagoria of a dream. if the ego be but the passing shadow of the material brain, at the disintegration of the gray matter what will become of us? shall we simply lapse into an indistinguishable part of the vast universe that compasses us round? at the thought we seem to stand straining our gaze, on the shore of the great sea of knowledge, only to watch the fog roll in, and hide from our view even those headlands of hope that, like beseeching hands, stretch out into the deep. so more materially. if individuality be a delusion of the mind, what motive potent enough to excite endeavor in the breast of an ordinary mortal remains? philosophers, indeed, might still work for the advancement of mankind, but mankind itself would not continue long to labor energetically for what should profit only the common weal. take away the stimulus of individuality, and action is paralyzed at once. for with most men the promptings of personal advantage only afford sufficient incentive to effort. destroy this force, then any consideration due it lapses, and socialism is not only justified, it is raised instantly into an axiom of life. the community, in that case, becomes itself the unit, the indivisible atom of existence. socialism, then communism, then nihilism, follow in inevitable sequence. that even the far oriental, with all his numbing impersonality, has not touched this goal may at least suggest that individuality is a fact. but first, what do we know about its existence ourselves? very early in the course of every thoughtful childhood an event takes place, by the side of which, to the child himself, all other events sink into insignificance. it is not one that is recognized and chronicled by the world, for it is wholly unconnected with action. no one but the child is aware of its occurrence, and he never speaks of it to others. yet to that child it marks an epoch. so intensely individual does it seem that the boy is afraid to avow it, while in reality so universal is it that probably no human being has escaped its influence. though subjective purely, it has more vividness than any external event; and though strictly intrinsic to life, it is more startling than any accident of fate or fortune. this experience of the boy's, at once so singular and yet so general, is nothing less than the sudden revelation to him one day of the fact of his own personality. somewhere about the time when sensation is giving place to sensitiveness as the great self-educator, and the knowledge gained by the five bodily senses is being fused into the wisdom of that mental one we call common sense, the boy makes a discovery akin to the act of waking up. all at once he becomes conscious of himself; and the consciousness has about it a touch of the uncanny. hitherto he has been aware only of matter; he now first realizes mind. unwarned, unprepared, he is suddenly ushered before being, and stands awe-struck in the presence of--himself. if the introduction to his own identity was startling, there is nothing reassuring in the feeling that this strange acquaintanceship must last. for continue it does. it becomes an unsought intimacy he cannot shake off. like to his own shadow he cannot escape it. to himself a man cannot but be at home. for years this alter ego haunts him, for he imagines it an idiosyncrasy of his own, a morbid peculiarity he dare not confide to any one, for fear of being thought a fool. not till long afterwards, when he has learned to live as a matter of course with his ever-present ghost, does he discover that others have had like familiars themselves. sometimes this dawn of consciousness is preceded by a long twilight of soul-awakening; but sometimes, upon more sensitive and subtler natures, the light breaks with all the suddenness of a sunrise at the equator, revealing to the mind's eye an unsuspected world of self within. but in whatever way we may awake to it, the sense of personality, when first realized, appears already, like the fabled goddess of wisdom, full grown in the brain. from the moment when we first remember ourselves we seem to be as old as we ever seem to others afterwards to become. we grow, indeed, in knowledge, in wisdom, in experience, as our years increase, but deep down in our heart of hearts we are still essentially the same. to be sure, people pay us more deference than they did, which suggests a doubt at times whether we may not have changed; small boys of a succeeding generation treat us with a respect that causes us inwardly to smile, as we think how little we differ from them, if they but knew it. for at bottom we are not conscious of change from that morning, long ago, when first we realized ourselves. we feel just as young now as we felt old then. we are but amused at the world's discrimination where we can detect no difference. every human being has been thus "twice born": once as matter, once as mind. nor is this second birth the birthright only of mankind. all the higher animals probably, possibly even the lower too, have experienced some such realization of individual identity. however that may be, certainly to all races of men has come this revelation; only the degree in which they have felt its force has differed immensely. it is one thing to the apathetic, fatalistic turk, and quite another matter to an energetic, nervous american. facts, fancies, faiths, all show how wide is the variance in feelings. with them no introspective [greek]cnzhi seauton overexcites the consciousness of self. but with us; as with those of old possessed of devils, it comes to startle and stays to distress. too apt is it to prove an ever-present, undesirable double. too often does it play the part of uninvited spectre at the feast, whose presence no one save its unfortunate victim suspects. the haunting horror of his own identity is to natures far less eccentric than kenelm chillingly's only too common a curse. to this companionship, paradoxical though it sound, is principally due the peculiar loneliness of childhood. for nothing is so isolating as a persistent idea which one dares not confide. and yet,--stranger paradox still,--was there ever any one willing to exchange his personality for another's? who can imagine foregoing his own self? nay, do we not cling even to its outward appearance? is there a man so poor in all that man holds dear that he does not keenly resent being accidentally mistaken for his neighbor? surely there must be something more than mirage in this deep-implanted, widespread instinct of human race. but however strong the conviction now of one's individuality, is there aught to assure him of its continuance beyond the confines of its present life? will it awake on death's morrow and know itself, or will it, like the body that gave it lodgment, disintegrate again into indistinguishable spirit dust? close upon the heels of the existing consciousness of self treads the shadow-like doubt of its hereafter. will analogy help to answer the grewsome riddle of the sphinx? are the laws we have learned to be true for matter true also for mind? matter we now know is indestructible; yet the form of it with which we once were so fondly familiar vanishes never to return. is a like fate to be the lot of the soul? that mind should be capable of annihilation is as inconceivable as that matter should cease to be. surely the spirit we feel existing round about us on every side now has been from ever, and will be for ever to come. but that portion of it which we each know as self, is it not like to a drop of rain seen in its falling through the air? indistinguishable the particle was in the cloud whence it came; indistinguishable it will become again in the ocean whither it is bound. its personality is but its passing phase from a vast impersonal on the one hand to an equally vast impersonal on the other. thus seers preached in the past; so modern science is hinting to-day. with us the idea seems the bitter fruit of material philosophy; by them it was looked upon as the fairest flower of their faith. what is dreaded now as the impious suggestion of the godless four thousand years ago was reverenced as a sacred tenet of religion. shorter even than his short threescore years and ten is that soul's life of which man is directly cognizant. bounded by two seemingly impersonal states is the personal consciousness of which he is made aware: the one the infantile existence that precedes his boyish discovery, the other the gloom that grows with years,--two twilights that fringe the two borders of his day. but with the far oriental, life is all twilight. for in japan and china both states are found together. there, side by side with the present unconsciousness of the babe exists the belief in a coming unconsciousness for the man. so inseparably blended are the two that the known truth of the one seems, for that very bond, to carry with it the credentials of the other. can it be that the personal, progressive west is wrong, and the impersonal, impassive east right? surely not. is the other side of the world in advance of us in mind-development, even as it precedes us in the time of day; or just as our noon is its night, may it not be far in our rear? is not its seeming wisdom rather the precociousness of what is destined never to go far? brought suddenly upon such a civilization, after the blankness of a long ocean voyage, one is reminded instinctively of the feelings of that bewildered individual who, after a dinner at which he had eventually ceased to be himself, was by way of pleasantry left out overnight in a graveyard, on their way home, by his humorously inclined companions; and who, on awaking alone, in a still dubious condition, looked around him in surprise, rubbed his eyes two or three times to no purpose, and finally muttered in a tone of awe-struck conviction, "well, either i'm the first to rise, or i'm a long way behind time!" whether their failure to follow the natural course of evolution results in bringing them in at the death just the same or not, these people are now, at any rate, stationary not very far from the point at which we all set out. they are still in that childish state of development before self-consciousness has spoiled the sweet simplicity of nature. an impersonal race seems never to have fully grown up. partly for its own sake, partly for ours, this most distinctive feature of the far east, its marked impersonality, is well worthy particular attention; for while it collaterally suggests pregnant thoughts about ourselves, it directly underlies the deeper oddities of a civilization which is the modern eighth wonder of the world. we shall see this as we look at what these people are, at what they were, and at what they hope to become; not historically, but psychologically, as one might perceive, were he but wise enough, in an acorn, besides the nut itself, two oaks, that one from which it fell, and that other which from it will rise. these three states, which we may call its potential past, present, and future, may be observed and studied in three special outgrowths of a race's character: in its language, in its every-day thoughts, and in its religion. for in the language of a people we find embalmed the spirit of its past; in its every-day thoughts, be they of arts or sciences, is wrapped up its present life; in its religion lie enfolded its dreamings of a future. from out each of these three subjects in the far east impersonality stares us in the face. upon this quality as a foundation rests the far oriental character. it is individually rather than nationally that i propose to scan it now. it is the action of a particle in the wave of world-development i would watch, rather than the propagation of the wave itself. inferences about the movement of the whole will follow of themselves a knowledge of the motion of its parts. but before we attack the subject esoterically, let us look a moment at the man as he appears in his relation to the community. such a glance will suggest the peculiar atmosphere of impersonality that pervades the people. however lacking in cleverness, in merit, or in imagination a man may be, there are in our western world, if his existence there be so much as noticed at all, three occasions on which he appears in print. his birth, his marriage, and his death are all duly chronicled in type, perhaps as sufficiently typical of the general unimportance of his life. mention of one's birth, it is true, is an aristocratic privilege, confined to the world of english society. in democratic america, no doubt because all men there are supposed to be born free and equal, we ignore the first event, and mention only the last two episodes, about which our national astuteness asserts no such effacing equality. accepting our newspaper record as a fair enough summary of the biography of an average man, let us look at these three momentous occasions in the career of a far oriental. chapter . family. in the first place, then, the poor little japanese baby is ushered into this world in a sadly impersonal manner, for he is not even accorded the distinction of a birthday. he is permitted instead only the much less special honor of a birth-year. not that he begins his separate existence otherwise than is the custom of mortals generally, at a definite instant of time, but that very little subsequent notice is ever taken of the fact. on the contrary, from the moment he makes his appearance he is spoken of as a year old, and this same age he continues to be considered in most simple ease of calculation, till the beginning of the next calendar year. when that epoch of general rejoicing arrives, he is credited with another year himself. so is everybody else. new year's day is a common birthday for the community, a sort of impersonal anniversary for his whole world. a like reckoning is followed in china and korea. upon the disadvantages of being considered from one's birth up at least one year and possibly two older than one really is, it lies beyond our present purpose to expatiate. it is quite evident that woman has had no voice in the framing of such a chronology. one would hardly imagine that man had either, so astronomic is the system. a communistic age is however but an unavoidable detail of the general scheme whose most suggestive feature consists in the subordination of the actual birthday of the individual to the fictitious birthday of the community. for it is not so much the want of commemoration shown the subject as the character of the commemoration which is significant. some slight notice is indeed paid to birthdays during early childhood, but even then their observance is quite secondary in importance to that of the great impersonal anniversaries of the third day of the third moon and the fifth day of the fifth moon. these two occasions celebrated the coming of humanity into the world with an impersonality worthy of the french revolutionary calendar. the first of them is called the festival of girls, and commemorates the birth of girls generally, the advent of the universal feminine, as one may say. the second is a corresponding anniversary for boys. owing to its sex, the latter is the greater event of the two, and in consequence of its most conspicuous feature is styled the festival of fishes. the fishes are hollow paper images of the "tai" from four to six feet in length, tied to the top of a long pole planted in the ground and tipped with a gilded ball. holes in the paper at the mouth and the tail enable the wind to inflate the body so that it floats about horizontally, swaying hither and thither, and tugging at the line after the manner of a living thing. the fish are emblems of good luck, and are set up in the courtyard of every house where a son has been born during the year. on this auspicious day tokio is suddenly transformed into eighty square miles of aquarium. for any more personal purpose new year's day eclipses all particular anniversaries. then everybody congratulates everybody else upon everything in general, and incidentally upon being alive. such substitution of an abstract for a concrete birthday, although exceedingly convenient for others, must at least conduce to self-forgetfulness on the part of its proper possessor, and tend inevitably to merge the identity of the individual in that of the community. it fares hardly better with the far oriental in the matter of marriage. although he is, as we might think, the person most interested in the result, he is permitted no say in the affair whatever. in fact, it is not his affair at all, but his father's. his hand is simply made a cat's-paw of. the matter is entirely a business transaction, entered into by the parent and conducted through regular marriage brokers. in it he plays only the part of a marionette. his revenge for being thus bartered out of what might be the better half of his life, he takes eventually on the next succeeding generation. his death may be said to be the most important act of his whole life. for then only can his personal existence be properly considered to begin. by it he joins the great company of ancestors who are to these people of almost more consequence than living folk, and of much more individual distinction. particularly is this the case in china and korea, but the same respect, though in a somewhat less rigid form, is paid the dead in japan. then at last the individual receives that recognition which was denied him in the flesh. in japan a mortuary tablet is set up to him in the house and duly worshipped; on the continent the ancestors are given a dwelling of their own, and even more devotedly reverenced. but in both places the cult is anything but funereal. for the ancestral tombs are temples and pleasure pavilions at the same time, consecrated not simply to rites and ceremonies, but to family gatherings and general jollification. and the fortunate defunct must feel, if he is still half as sentient as his dutiful descendants suppose, that his earthly life, like other approved comedies, has ended well. important, however, as these critical points in his career may be reckoned by his relatives, they are scarcely calculated to prove equally epochal to the man himself. in a community where next to no note is ever taken of the anniversary of his birth, some doubt as to the special significance of that red-letter day may not unnaturally creep into his own mind. while in regard to his death, although it may be highly flattering for him to know that he will certainly become somebody when he shall have ceased, practically, to be anybody, such tardy recognition is scarcely timely enough to be properly appreciated. human nature is so earth-tied, after all, that a post-mundane existence is very apt to seem immaterial as well as be so. with the old familiar landmarks of life obliterated in this wholesale manner, it is to be doubted whether one of us, placed in the midst of such a civilization, would know himself. he certainly would derive but scanty satisfaction from the recognition if he did. even nirvana might seem a happy limbo by comparison. with a communal, not to say a cosmic, birthday, and a conventional wife, he might well deem his separate existence the shadow of a shade and embrace buddhism from mere force of circumstances. further investigation would not shake his opinion. for a far-oriental career is thoroughly in keeping with these, its typical turning-points. from one end of its course to the other it is painfully impersonal. in its regular routine as in its more salient junctures, life presents itself to these races a totally different affair from what it seems to us. the cause lies in what is taken to be the basis of socio-biology, if one may so express it. in the far east the social unit, the ultimate molecule of existence, is not the individual, but the family. we occidentals think we value family. we even parade our pretensions so prominently as sometimes to tread on other people's prejudices of a like nature. yet we scarcely seem to appreciate the inheritance. for with a logic which does us questionable credit, we are proud of our ancestors in direct proportion to their remoteness from ourselves, thus permitting democracy to revenge its insignificance by smiling at our self-imposed satire. to esteem a man in inverse ratio to the amount of remarkable blood he has inherited is, to say the least, bathetic. others, again, make themselves objectionable by preferring their immediate relatives to all less connected companions, and cling to their cousins so closely that affection often culminates in matrimony, nature's remonstrances notwithstanding. but with all the pride or pleasure which we take in the members of our particular clan, our satisfaction really springs from viewing them on an autocentric theory of the social system. in our own eyes we are the star about which, as in joseph's dream, our relatives revolve and upon which they help to shed an added lustre. our ptolemaic theory of society is necessitated by our tenacity to the personal standpoint. this fixed idea of ours causes all else seemingly to rotate about it. such an egoistic conception is quite foreign to our longitudinal antipodes. however much appearances may agree, the fundamental principles upon which family consideration is based are widely different in the two hemispheres. for the far-eastern social universe turns on a patricentric pivot. upon the conception of the family as the social and political unit depends the whole constitution of china. the same theory somewhat modified constitutes the life-principle of korea, of japan, and of their less advanced cousins who fill the vast centre of the asiatic continent. from the emperor on his throne to the common coolie in his hovel it is the idea of kinship that knits the entire body politic together. the empire is one great family; the family is a little empire. the one developed out of the other. the patriarchal is, as is well known, probably the oldest political system in the world. all nations may be said to have experienced such a paternal government, but most nations outgrew it. now the interesting fact about the yellow branch of the human race is, not that they had so juvenile a constitution, but that they have it; that it has persisted practically unchanged from prehistoric ages. it is certainly surprising in this kaleidoscopic world whose pattern is constantly changing as time merges one combination of its elements into another, that on the other side of the globe this set should have remained the same. yet in spite of the lapse of years, in spite of the altered conditions of existence, in spite of an immense advance in civilization, such a primitive state of society has continued there to the present day, in all its essentials what it was when as nomads the race forefathers wandered peacefully or otherwise over the plains of central asia. the principle helped them to expand; it has simply cramped them ever since. for, instead of dissolving like other antiquated views, it has become, what it was bound to become if it continued to last, crystallized into an institution. it had practically reached this condition when it received a theoretical, not to say a theological recognition which gave it mundane immortality. a couple of millenniums ago confucius consecrated filial duty by making it the basis of the chinese moral code. his hand was the finishing touch of fossilification. for since the sage set his seal upon the system no one has so much as dreamt of changing it. the idea of confuting confucius would be an act of impiety such as no chinaman could possibly commit. not that the inadmissibility of argument is due really to the authority of the philosopher, but that it lies ingrained in the character of the people. indeed the genius of the one may be said to have consisted in divining the genius of the other. confucius formulated the prevailing practice, and in so doing helped to make it perpetual. he gave expression to the national feeling, and like expressions, generally his, served to stamp the idea all the more indelibly upon the national consciousness. in this manner the family from a natural relation grew into a highly unnatural social anachronism. the loose ties of a roving life became fetters of a fixed conventionality. bonds originally of mutual advantage hardened into restrictions by which the young were hopelessly tethered to the old. midway in its course the race undertook to turn round and face backwards, as it journeyed on. its subsequent advance could be nothing but slow. the head of a family is so now in something of a corporeal sense. from him emanate all its actions; to him are responsible all its parts. any other member of it is as incapable of individual expression as is the hand, or the foot, or the eye of man. indeed, confucian doctors of divinity might appropriately administer psychically to the egoistic the rebuke of the western physician to the too self-analytic youth who, finding that, after eating, his digestion failed to give him what he considered its proper sensations, had come to consult the doctor as to how it ought to feel. "feel! young man," he was answered, "you ought not to be aware that you have a digestion." so with them, a normally constituted son knows not what it is to possess a spontaneity of his own. indeed, this very word "own," which so long ago in our own tongue took to itself the symbol of possession, well exemplifies his dependent state. china furnishes the most conspicuous instance of the want of individual rights. a chinese son cannot properly be said to own anything. the title to the land he tills is vested absolutely in the family, of which he is an undivided thirtieth, or what-not. even the administration of the property is not his, but resides in the family, represented by its head. the outward symbols of ownership testify to the fact. the bourns that mark the boundaries of the fields bear the names of families, not of individuals. the family, as such, is the proprietor, and its lands are cultivated and enjoyed in common by all the constituents of the clan. in the tenure of its real estate, the chinese family much resembles the russian mir. but so far as his personal state is concerned, the chinese son outslaves the slav. for he lives at home, under the immediate control of the paternal will--in the most complete of serfdoms, a filial one. even existence becomes a communal affair. from the family mansion, or set of mansions, in which all its members dwell, to the family mausoleum, to which they will all eventually be borne, a man makes his life journey in strict company with his kin. a man's life is thus but an undivisible fraction of the family life. how essentially so will appear from the following slight sketch of it. to begin at the beginning, his birth is a very important event--for the household, at which no one fails to rejoice except the new-comer. he cries. the general joy, however, depends somewhat upon his sex. if the baby chances to be a boy, everybody is immensely pleased; if a girl, there is considerably less effusion shown. in the latter case the more impulsive relatives are unmistakably sorry; the more philosophic evidently hope for better luck next time. both kinds make very pretty speeches, which not even the speakers believe, for in the babe lottery the family is considered to have drawn a blank. a delight so engendered proves how little of the personal, even in prospective, attaches to its object. the reason for the invidious distinction in the matter of sex lies of course in an inordinate desire for the perpetuation of the family line. the unfortunate infant is regarded merely in the light of a possible progenitor. a boy is already potentially a father; whereas a girl, if she marry at all, is bound to marry out of her own family into another, and is relatively lost. the full force of the deprivation is, however, to some degree tempered by the almost infinite possibilities of adoption. daughters are, therefore, not utterly unmitigable evils. from the privacy of the domestic circle, the infant's entrance into public life is performed pick-a-back. strapped securely to the shoulders of a slightly older sister, out he goes, consigned to the tender mercies of a being who is scarcely more than a baby herself. the diminutiveness of the nurse-perambulators is the most surprising part of the performance. the tiniest of tots may be seen thus toddling round with burdens half their own size. like the dot upon the little i, the baby's head seems a natural part of their childish ego. an economy of the kind in the matter of nurses is highly suggestive. that it should be practicable thus to entrust one infant to another proves the precociousness of children. but this surprising maturity of the young implies by a law too well known to need explanation, the consequent immaturity of the race. that which has less to grow up to, naturally grows up to its limit sooner. it may even be questioned whether it does not do so with the more haste; on the same principle that a runner who has less distance to travel not only accomplishes his course quicker, but moves with relatively greater speed, or as a small planet grows old not simply sooner, but comparatively faster than a larger one. jupiter is still in his fiery youth, while the moon is senile in decrepid old age, and yet his separate existence began long before hers. either hypothesis will explain the abnormally early development of the chinese race, and its subsequent career of inactivity. meanwhile the youthful nurse, in blissful ignorance of the evidence which her present precocity affords against her future possibilities, pursues her sports with intermittent attention to her charge, whose poor little head lolls about, now on one side and now on the other, in a most distressingly loose manner, an uninterested spectator of the proceedings. as soon as the babe gets a trifle bigger he ceases to be ministered to and begins his long course of ministering to others. his home life consists of attentive subordination. the relation his obedience bears to that of children elsewhere is paralleled perhaps sufficiently by the comparative importance attached to precepts on the subject in the respective moral codes. the commandment "honor thy father" forms a tithe of the mosaic law, while the same injunction constitutes at least one half of the confucian precepts. to the chinese child all the parental commands are not simply law to the letter, they are to be anticipated in the spirit. to do what he is told is but the merest fraction of his duty; theoretically his only thought is how to serve his sire. the pious aeneas escaping from troy exemplifies his conduct when it comes to a question of domestic precedence,--whose first care, it will be remembered, was for his father, his next for his son, and his last for his wife. he lost his wife, it may be noted in passing. filial piety is the greatest of chinese virtues. indeed, an undutiful son is a monstrosity, a case of moral deformity. it could now hardly be otherwise. for a father sums up in propria persona a whole pedigree of patriarchs whose superimposed weight of authority is practically divine. this condition of servitude is never outgrown by the individual, as it has never been outgrown by the race. our boy now begins to go to school; to a day school, it need hardly be specified, for a boarding school would be entirely out of keeping with the family life. here, he is given the "trimetrical classic" to start on, that he may learn the characters by heart, picking up incidentally what ideas he may. this book is followed by the "century of surnames," a catalogue of all the clan names in china, studied like the last for the sake of the characters, although the suggestion of the importance of the family contained in it is probably not lost upon his youthful mind. next comes the "thousand character classic," a wonderful epic as a feat of skill, for of the thousand characters which it contains not a single one is repeated, an absence of tautology not properly appreciated by the enforced reader. reminiscences of our own school days vividly depict the consequent disgust, instead of admiration, of the boy. three more books succeed these first volumes, differing from one another in form, but in substance singularly alike, treating, as they all do, of history and ethics combined. for tales and morals are inseparably associated by pious antiquity. indeed, the past would seem to have lived with special reference to the edification of the future. chinamen were abnormally virtuous in those golden days, barring the few unfortunates whom fate needed as warning examples of depravity for succeeding ages. except for the fact that instruction as to a future life forms no part of the curriculum, a far-eastern education may be said to consist of sunday-school every day in the week. for no occasion is lost by the erudite authors, even in the most worldly portions of their work, for preaching a slight homily on the subject in hand. the dictum of dionysius of halicarnassus that "history is philosophy teaching by example" would seem there to have become modified into "history is filiosophy teaching by example." for in the instructive anecdotes every other form of merit is depicted as second to that of being a dutiful son. to the practice of that supreme virtue all other considerations are sacrificed. the student's aim is thus kept single. at every turn of the leaves, paragons of filial piety shame the youthful reader to the pitch of emulation by the epitaphic records of their deeds. portraits of the past, possibly colored, present that estimable trait in so exalted a type that to any less filial a people they would simply deter competition. yet the boy implicitly believes and no doubt resolves to rival what he reads. a specimen or two will amply suggest the rest. in one tale the hero is held up to the unqualified admiration of posterity for having starved to death his son, in an extreme case of family destitution, for the sake of providing food enough for his aged father. in another he unhesitatingly divorces his wife for having dared to poke fun, in the shape of bodkins, at some wooden effigies of his parents which he had had set up in the house for daily devotional contemplation. finally another paragon actually sells himself in perpetuity as a slave that he may thus procure the wherewithal to bury with due honor his anything but worthy progenitor, who had first cheated his neighbors and then squandered his ill-gotten gains in riotous living. of these tales, as of certain questionable novels in a slightly different line, the eventual moral is considered quite competent to redeem the general immorality of the plot. along such a curriculum the youthful chinaman is made to run. a very similar system prevails in japan, the difference between the two consisting in quantity rather than quality. the books in the two cases are much the same, and the amount read differs surprisingly little when we consider that in the one case it is his own classics the student is reading, in the other the chinaman's. if he belong to the middle class, as soon as his schooling is over he is set to learn his father's trade. to undertake to learn any trade but his father's would strike the family as simply preposterous. why should he adopt another line of business? and, if he did, what other business should he adopt? is his father's occupation not already there, a part of the existing order of things; and is he not the son of his father and heir therefore of the paternal skill? not that such inherited aptness is recognized scientifically; it is simply taken for granted instinctively. it is but a halfhearted intuition, however, for the possibility of an inheritance from the mother's side is as out of the question as if her severance from her own family had an ex post facto effect. as for his individual predilection in the matter, nature has considerately conformed to custom by giving him none. he becomes a cabinet-maker, for instance, because his ancestors always have been cabinet-makers. he inherits the family business as a necessary part of the family name. he is born to his trade, not naturally selected because of his fitness for it. but he usually is amply qualified for the position, for generations of practice, if only on one side of the house, accumulate a vast deal of technical skill. the result of this system of clan guilds in all branches of industry is sufficiently noticeable. the almost infinite superiority of japanese artisans over their european fellow-craftsmen is world-known. on the other hand the tendency of the occupation in the abstract to swallow up the individual in the concrete is as evident to theory as it is patent in practice. eventually the man is lost in the manner. the very names of trades express the fact. the japanese word for cabinet-maker, for example, means literally cutting-thing-house, and is now applied as distinctively to the man as to his shop. nominally as well as practically the youthful japanese artisan makes his introduction to the world, much after the manner of the hero of lecocq's comic opera, the son of the house of marasquin et cie. if instead of belonging to the lower middle class our typical youth be born of bluer blood, or if he be filled with the same desires as if he were so descended, he becomes a student. having failed to discover in the school-room the futility of his country's self-vaunted learning, he proceeds to devote his life to its pursuit. with an application which is eminently praiseworthy, even if its object be not, he sets to work to steep himself in the classics till he can perceive no merit in anything else. as might be suspected, he ends by discovering in the sayings of the past more meaning than the simple past ever dreamed of putting there. he becomes more confucian than confucius. indeed, it is fortunate for the reputation of the sage that he cannot return to earth, for he might disagree to his detriment with his own commentators. such is the state of things in china and korea. learning, however, is not dependent solely on individual interest for its wonderfully flourishing condition in the middle kingdom, for the government abets the practice to its utmost. it is itself the supreme sanction, for its posts are the prizes of proficiency. through the study of the classics lies the only entrance to political power. to become a mandarin one must have passed a series of competitive examinations on these very subjects, and competition in this impersonal field is most keen. for while popular enthusiasm for philosophy for philosophy's sake might, among any people, eventually show symptoms of fatigue, it is not likely to flag where the outcome of it is so substantial. erudition carries there all earthly emoluments in its train. for the man who can write the most scholastic essay on the classics is forthwith permitted to amass much honor and more wealth by wronging his less accomplished fellow-citizens. china is a student's paradise where the possession of learning is instantly convertible into unlimited pelf. in japan the study of the classics was never pursued professionally. it was, however, prosecuted with much zeal en amateur. the chinese bureaucratic system has been wanting. for in spite of her students, until within thirty years japan slumbered still in the knight-time of the middle ages, and so long as a man carried about with him continually two beautiful swords he felt it incumbent upon him to use them. the happy days of knight-errantry have passed. these same cavaliers of samurai are now thankful to police the streets in spectacles necessitated by the too diligent study of german text, and arrest chance disturbers of the public peace for a miserably small salary per month. our youth has now reached the flowering season of life, that brief may time when the whole world takes on the rose-tint, and when by all dramatic laws he ought to fall in love. he does nothing of the kind. sad to say, he is a stranger to the feeling. love, as we understand the word, is a thing unknown to the far east; fortunately, indeed, for the possession there of the tender passion would be worse than useless. its indulgence would work no end of disturbance to the community at large, beside entailing much misery upon its individual victim. its exercise would probably be classed with kleptomania and other like excesses of purely personal consideration. the community could never permit the practice, for it strikes at the very root of their whole social system. the immense loss in happiness to these people in consequence of the omission by the too parsimonious fates of that thread, which, with us, spins the whole of woman's web of life, and at least weaves the warp of man's, is but incidental to the present subject; the effect of the loss upon the individuality of the person himself is what concerns us now. if there is one moment in a man's life when his interest for the world at large pales before the engrossing character of his own emotions, it is assuredly when that man first falls in love. then, if never before, the world within excludes the world without. for of all our human passions none is so isolating as the tenderest. to shut that one other being in, we must of necessity shut all the rest of mankind out; and we do so with a reckless trust in our own self-sufficiency which has about it a touch of the sublime. the other millions are as though they were not, and we two are alone in the earth, which suddenly seems to have grown unprecedentedly beautiful. indeed, it only needs such judicious depopulation to make of any spot an eden. perhaps the early jewish myth-makers had some such thought in mind when they wrote their idyl of the cosmogony. the human traits are true to-day. then at last our souls throw aside their conventional wrappings to stand revealed as they really are. certain of comprehension, the thoughts we have never dared breathe to any one before, find a tongue for her who seems fore-destined to understand. the long-closed floodgates of feeling are thrown wide, and our personality, pent up from the time of its inception for very mistrust, sweeps forth in one uncontrollable rush. for then the most reticent becomes confiding; the most self-contained expands. then every detail of our past lives assumes an importance which even we had not divined. to her we tell them all,--our boyish beliefs, our youthful fancies, the foolish with the fine, the witty with the wise, the little with the great. nothing then seems quite unworthy, as nothing seems quite worthy enough. flowers and weeds that we plucked upon our pathway, we heap them in her lap, certain that even the poorest will not be tossed aside. small wonder that we bring as many as we may when she bends her head so lovingly to each. as our past rises in reminiscence with all its oldtime reality, no less clearly does our future stand out to us in mirage. what we would be seems as realizable as what we were. seen by another beside ourselves, our castles in the air take on something of the substance of stereoscopic sight. our airiest fancies seem solid facts for their reality to her, and gilded by lovelight, they glitter and sparkle like a true palace of the east. for once all is possible; nothing lies beyond our reach. and as we talk, and she listens, we two seem to be floating off into an empyrean of our own like the summer clouds above our heads, as they sail dreamily on into the far-away depths of the unfathomable sky. it would be more than mortal not to believe in ourselves when another believes so absolutely in us. our most secret thoughts are no longer things to be ashamed of, for she has sanctioned them. whatever doubt may have shadowed us as to our own imaginings disappears before the smile of her appreciation. that her appreciation may be prejudiced is not a possibility we think of then. she understands us, or seems to do so to our own better understanding of ourselves. happy the man who is thus understood! happy even he who imagines that he is, because of her eager wish to comprehend; fortunate, indeed, if in this one respect he never comes to see too clearly. no such blissful infatuation falls to the lot of the far oriental. he never is the dupe of his own desire, the willing victim of his self-illusion. he is never tempted to reveal himself, and by thus revealing, realize. no loving appreciation urges him on toward the attainment of his own ideal. that incitement to be what he would seem to be, to become what she deems becoming, he fails to feel. custom has so far fettered fancy that even the wish to communicate has vanished. he has now nothing to tell; she needs no ear to hear. for she is not his love; she is only his wife,--what is left of a romance when the romance is left out. worse still, she never was anything else. he has not so much as a memory of her, for he did not marry her for love; he may not love of his own accord, nor for the matter of that does he wish to do so. if by some mischance he should so far forget to forget himself, it were much better for him had he not done so, for the choice of a bride is not his, nor of a bridegroom hers. marriage to a far oriental is the most important mercantile transaction of his whole life. it is, therefore, far too weighty a matter to be entrusted to his youthful indiscretion; for although the person herself is of lamentably little account in the bargain, the character of her worldly circumstances is most material to it. so she is contracted for with the same care one would exercise in the choice of any staple business commodity. the particular sample is not vital to the trade, but the grade of goods is. she is selected much as the bride of the vicar of wakefield chose her wedding-gown, only that the one was at least cut to suit, while the other is not. it is certainly easier, if less fitting, to get a wife as some people do clothes, not to their own order, but ready made; all the more reason when the bargain is for one's son, not one's self. so the far east, which looks at the thing from a strictly paternal standpoint and ignores such trifles as personal preferences, takes its boy to the broker's and fits him out. that the object of such parental care does not end by murdering his unfortunate spouse or making way with himself suggests how dead already is that individuality which we deem to be of the very essence of the thing. marriage is thus a species of investment contracted by the existing family for the sake of the prospective one, the actual participants being only lay figures in the affair. sometimes the father decides the matter himself; sometimes he or the relative who stands in loco parentis calls for a plebiscit on the subject; for such an extension of the suffrage has gradually crept even into patriarchal institutions. the family then assemble, sit in solemn conclave on the question, and decide it by vote. of course the interested parties are not asked their opinion, as it might be prejudiced. the result of the conference must be highly gratifying. to have one's wife chosen for one by vote of one's relatives cannot but be satisfactory--to the electors. the outcome of this ballot, like that of universal suffrage elsewhere, is at the best unobjectionable mediocrity. somehow such a result does not seem quite to fulfil one's ideal of a wife. it is true that the upper classes of impersonal france practise this method of marital selection, their conseils de famille furnishing in some sort a parallel. but, as is well known, matrimony among these same upper classes is largely form devoid of substance. it begins impressively with a dual ceremony, the civil contract, which amounts to a contract of civility between the parties, and a religious rite to render the same perpetual, and there it is too apt to end. so much for the immediate influence on the man; the eventual effect on the race remains to be considered. now, if the first result be anything, the second must in the end be everything. for however trifling it be in the individual instance, it goes on accumulating with each successive generation, like compound interest. the choosing of a wife by family suffrage is not simply an exponent of the impersonal state of things, it is a power toward bringing such a state of things about. a hermit seldom develops to his full possibilities, and the domestic variety is no exception to the rule. a man who is linked to some one that toward him remains a cipher lacks surroundings inciting to psychological growth, nor is he more favorably circumstanced because all his ancestors have been similarly circumscribed. as if to make assurance doubly sure, natural selection here steps in to further the process. to prove this with all the rigidity of demonstration desirable is in the present state of erotics beyond our power. until our family trees give us something more than mere skeletons of dead branches, we must perforce continue ignorant of the science of grafts. for the nonce we must be content to generalize from our own premises, only rising above them sufficiently to get a bird's-eye view of our neighbor's estates. such a survey has at least one advantage: the whole field of view appears perfectly plain. surveying the subject, then, from this ego-altruistic position, we can perceive why matrimony, as we practise it, should result in increasing the personality of our race: for the reason namely that psychical similarity determines the selection. at first sight, indeed, such a natural affinity would seem to have little or nothing to do with marriage. as far as outsiders are capable of judging, unlikes appear to fancy one another quite as gratuitously as do likes. connubial couples are often anything but twin souls. yet our own dual use of the word "like" bears historic witness to the contrary. for in this expression we have a record from early gothic times that men liked others for being like themselves. since then, our feelings have not changed materially, although our mode of showing them is slightly less intense. in those simple days stranger and enemy were synonymous terms, and their objects were received in a corresponding spirit. in our present refined civilization we hurl epithets instead of spears, and content ourselves with branding as heterodox the opinions of another which do not happen to coincide with our own. the instinct of self-development naturally begets this self-sided view. we insensibly find those persons congenial whose ideas resemble ours, and gravitate to them, as leaves on a pond do to one another, nearer and nearer till they touch. is it likely, then, that in the most important case of all the rule should suddenly cease to hold? is it to be presumed that even socrates chose xantippe for her remarkable contrariety to himself? mere physical attraction is another matter. corporeally considered, men not infrequently fall in love with their opposites, the phenomenally tall with the painfully short, the unnecessarily stout with the distressingly slender. but even such inartistic juxtapositions are much less common than we are apt at times to think. for it must never be forgotten that the exceptional character of the phenomena renders them conspicuous, the customary more consorted combinations failing to excite attention. besides, there exists a reason for physical incongruity which does not hold psychically. nature sanctions the one while she discountenances the other. instead of the forethought she once bestowed upon the body, it receives at her hands now but the scantiest attention. its development has ceased to be an object with her. for some time past almost all her care has been devoted to the evolution of the soul. the consequence is that physically man is much less specialized than many other animals. in other words, he is bodily less advanced in the race for competitive extermination. he belongs to an antiquated, inefficient type of mammal. his organism is still of the jack-of-all-trades pattern, such as prevailed generally in the more youthful stages of organic life--one not specially suited to any particular pursuit. were it not for his cerebral convolutions he could not compete for an instant in the struggle for existence, and even the monkey would reign in his stead. but brain is more effective than biceps, and a being who can kill his opponent farther off than he can see him evidently needs no great excellence of body to survive his foe. the field of competition has thus been transferred from matter to mind, but the fight has lost none of its keenness in consequence. with the same zeal with which advantageous anatomical variations were seized upon and perpetuated, psychical ones are now grasped and rendered hereditary. now if opposites were to fancy and wed one another, such fortunate improvements would soon be lost. they would be scattered over the community at large even it they escaped entire neutralization. to prevent so disastrous a result nature implants a desire for resemblance, which desire man instinctively acts upon. complete compatibility of temperament is of course a thing not to be expected nor indeed to be desired, since it would defeat its own end by allowing no room for variation. a fairly broad basis of agreement, however, exists even when least suspected. this common ground of content consists of those qualities held to be most essential by the individuals concerned, although not necessarily so appearing to other people. sometimes, indeed, these qualities are still in the larvae state of desires. they are none the less potent upon the man's personality on that account, for the wish is always father to its own fulfilment. the want of conjugal resemblance not only works mediately on the child, it works mutually on the parents; for companionship, as is well recognized, tends to similarity. now companionship is the last thing to be looked for in a far-eastern couple. where custom requires a wife to follow dutifully in the wake of her husband, whenever the two go out together, there is small opportunity for intercourse by the way, even were there the slightest inclination to it, which there is not. the appearance of the pair on an excursion is a walking satire on sociability, for the comicality of the connection is quite unperceived by the performers. in the privacy of the domestic circle the separation, if less humorous, is no less complete. each lives in a world of his own, largely separate in fact in china and korea, and none the less in fancy in japan. on the continent a friend of the husband would see little or nothing of the wife, and even in japan he would meet her much as we meet an upper servant in a friend's house. such a semi-attached relationship does not conduce to much mutual understanding. the remainder of our hero's uneventful existence calls for no particular comment. as soon as he has children borne him he is raised ipso facto from the position of a common soldier to that of a subordinate officer in the family ranks. but his opportunities for the expression of individuality are not one whit increased. he has simply advanced a peg in a regular hierarchy of subjection. from being looked after himself he proceeds to look after others. such is the extent of the change. even should he chance to be the eldest son of the eldest son, and thus eventually end by becoming the head of the family, he cannot consistently consider himself. there is absolutely no place in his social cosmos for so particular a thing as the ego. with a certain grim humor suggestive of metaphysics, it may be said of his whole life that it is nothing but a relative affair after all. chapter . adoption. but one may go a step farther in this matter of the family, and by so doing fare still worse with respect to individuality. there are certain customs in vogue among these peoples which would seem to indicate that even so generic a thing as the family is too personal to serve them for ultimate social atom, and that in fact it is only the idea of the family that is really important, a case of abstraction of an abstract. these suggestive customs are the far-eastern practices of adoption and abdication. adoption, with us, is a kind of domestic luxury, akin to the keeping of any other pets, such as lap-dogs and canaries. it is a species of self-indulgence which those who can afford it give themselves when fortune has proved unpropitious, an artificial method of counteracting the inequalities of fate. that such is the plain unglamoured view of the procedure is shown by the age at which the object is adopted. usually the future son or daughter enters the adoptive household as an infant, intentionally so on the part of the would-be parents. his ignorance of a previous relationship largely increases his relative value; for the possibility of his making comparisons in his own mind between a former state of existence and the present one unfavorable to the latter is not pleasant for the adopters to contemplate. he is therefore acquired young. the amusement derived from his company is thus seen to be distinctly paramount to all other considerations. no one cares so heartily to own a dog which has been the property of another; a fortiori of a child. it is clearly, then, not as a necessity that the babe is adopted. if such were the case, if like the ancient romans all a man wanted was the continuance of the family line, he would naturally wait until the last practicable moment; for he would thus save both care and expense. in the far east adoption is quite a different affair. there it is a genealogical necessity--like having a father or mother. it is, indeed, of almost more importance. for the great desideratum to these peoples is not ancestors but descendants. pedigrees in the land of the universal opposite are not matters of bequest but of posthumous reversion. a man is not beholden to the past, he looks forward to the future for inherited honors. no fame attaches to him for having had an illustrious grandfather. on the contrary, it is the illustrious grandson who reflects some of his own greatness back upon his grandfather. if a man therefore fail to attain eminence himself, he always has another chance in his descendants; for he will of necessity be ennobled through the merits of those who succeed him. such is the immemorial law of the land. fame is retroactive. this admirable system has only one objection: it is posthumous in its effect. an ambitious man who unfortunately lacks ability himself has to wait too long for vicarious recognition. the objection is like that incident to the making of a country seat out of a treeless plain by planting the same with saplings. about the time the trees begin to be worth having the proprietary landscape-gardener dies of old age. however, as custom permits a far oriental no ancestral growth of timber, he is obliged to lay the seeds of his own family trees. natural offspring are on the whole easier to get, and more satisfactory when got. hence the haste with which these peoples rush into matrimony. if in despite of his precipitation fate perversely refuse to grant him children, he must endeavor to make good the omission by artificial means. he proceeds to adopt somebody. true to instinct, he chooses from preference a collateral relative. in some far-eastern lands he must so restrict himself by law. in korea, for instance, he can only adopt an agnate and one of a lower generation than his own. but in japan his choice is not so limited. in so praiseworthy an act as the perpetuation of his unimportant family line, it is deemed unwise in that progressive land to hinder him from unconsciously bettering it by the way. he is consequently permitted to adopt anybody. as people are by no means averse to being adopted, the power to adopt whom he will gives him more voice in the matter of his unnatural offspring than he ever had in the selection of a more natural one. the adopted changes his name, of course, to take that of the family he enters. as he is very frequently grown up and extensively known at the time the adoption takes place, his change of cognomen occasions at first some slight confusion among his acquaintance. this would be no worse, however, than the change with us from the maid to the matron, and intercourse would soon proceed smoothly again if people would only rest content with one such domestic migration. but they do not. the fatal facility of the process tempts them to repeat it. the result is bewildering: a people as nomadic now in the property of their persons as their forefathers were in their real estate. a man adopts another to-day to unadopt him to-morrow and replace him by somebody else the day after. so profoundly unimportant to them is their social identity, that they bandy it about with almost farcical freedom. perhaps it is fitting that there should be some slight preparation in this world for a future transmigration of souls. still one fails to conceive that the practice can be devoid of disadvantages even to its beneficiaries. to foreigners it proves disastrously perplexing. for if you chance upon a man whom you have not met for some time, you can never be quite sure how to accost him. if you begin, "well met, green, how goes it?" as likely as not he replies, "finely. but i am no longer green; i have become brown. i was adopted last month by my maternal grandfather." you of course apologize for your unfortunate mistake, carefully note his change of hue for a future occasion, and behold, on meeting him the next time you find he has turned black. such a chameleon-like cognomen is very unsettling to your idea of his identity, and can hardly prove reassuring to his own. the only persons who reap any benefit from the doubt are those, with us unhappy, individuals who possess the futile faculty of remembering faces without recalling their accompanying names. girls, as a rule, are not adopted, being valueless genealogically. a niece or grandniece to whom one has taken a great fancy might of course be adopted there as elsewhere, but it would be distinctly out of the every-day run, as she could never be included in the household on strict business principles. the practice of adopting is not confined to childless couples. others may find themselves in quite as unfortunate a predicament. a man may be the father of a large and thriving family and yet be as destitute patriarchally as if he had not a child to his name. his offspring may be of the wrong sex; they may all be girls. in this untoward event the father has something more on his hands than merely a houseful of daughters to dispose of. in addition to securing sons-in-law, he must, unless he would have his ancestral line become extinct, provide himself with a son. the simplest procedure in such a case is to combine relationships in a single individual, and the most self-evident person to select for the dual capacity is the husband of the eldest daughter. this is the course pursued. some worthy young man is secured as spouse for the senior sister; he is at the same time formally taken in as a son by the family whose cognomen he assumes, and eventually becomes the head of the house. strange to say, this vista of gradually unfolding honors does not seem to prove inviting. perhaps the new-comer objects to marrying the whole family, a prejudice not without parallel elsewhere. certainly the opportunity is not appreciated. indeed, to "go out as a son-in-law," as the japanese idiom hath it, is considered demeaning to the matrimonial domestic. like other household help he wears too patently the badge of servitude. "if you have three koku of rice to your name, don't do it," is the advice of the local proverb--a proverb whose warning against marrying for money is the more suggestive for being launched in a land where marrying for love is beyond the pale of respectability. to barter one's name in this mercenary manner is looked upon as derogatory to one's self-respect, although, as we have seen, to part with it for any less direct remuneration is not attended with the slightest loss of personal prestige. as practically the unfortunate had none to lose in either event, it would seem to be a case of taking away from a man that which he hath not. so contumacious a thing is custom. it is indeed lucky that popular prejudice interposes some limit to this fictitious method of acquiring children. a trifling predilection for the real thing in sonships is absolutely vital, even to the continuance of the artificial variety. for if one generation ever went in exclusively for adoption, there would be no subsequent generation to adopt. as it to give the finishing touch to so conventional a system of society, a man can leave it under certain circumstances with even greater ease than he entered it. he can become as good as dead without the necessity of making way with himself. theoretically, he can cease to live while still practically existing; for it is always open to the head of a family to abdicate. the word abdicate has to our ears a certain regal sound. we instinctively associate the act with a king. even the more democratic expression resign suggests at once an office of public or quasi public character. to talk of abdicating one's private relationships sounds absurd; one might as well talk of electing his parents, it would seem to us. such misunderstanding of far-eastern social possibilities comes from our having indulged in digressions from our more simple nomadic habits. if in imagination we will return to our ancestral muttons and the then existing order of things, the idea will not strike us as so strange; for in those early bucolic days every father was a king. family economics were the only political questions in existence then. the clan was the unit. domestic disputes were state disturbances, and clan-claims the only kind of international quarrels. the patriarch was both father to his people and king. as time widened the family circle it eventually reached a point where cohesion ceased to be possible. the centrifugal tendency could no longer be controlled by the centripetal force. it split up into separate bodies, each of them a family by itself. in their turn these again divided, and so the process went on. this principle has worked universally, the only difference in its action among different races being the greater or less degree of the evolving motion. with us the social system has been turning more and more rapidly with time. in the far east its force, instead of increasing, would seem to have decreased, enabling the nebula of its original condition to keep together as a single mass, so that to-day a whole nation, resembling a nebula indeed in homogeneity, is swayed by a single patriarchal principle. here, on the contrary, so rapid has the motion become that even brethren find themselves scattered to the four winds. an occidental father and an oriental head of a family are no longer really correlative terms. the latter more closely resembles a king in his duties, responsibilities, and functions generally. now, in the middle ages in europe, when a king grew tired of affairs of state, he abdicated. so in the far east, when the head of a family has had enough of active life, he abdicates, and his eldest son reigns in his stead. from that moment he ceases to belong to the body politic in any active sense. not that he is no longer a member of society nor unamenable to its general laws, but that he has become a respectable declasse, as it were. he has entered, so to speak, the social nirvana, a not unfitting first step, as he regards it, toward entering the eventual nirvana beyond. such abdication now takes place without particular cause. after a certain time of life, and long before a man grows old, it is the fashion thus to make one's bow. chapter . language. a man's personal equation, as astronomers call the effect of his individuality, is kin, for all its complexity, to those simple algebraical problems which so puzzled us at school. to solve either we must begin by knowing the values of the constants that enter into its expression. upon the a b c's of the one, as upon those of the other, depend the possibilities of the individual x. now the constants in any man's equation are the qualities that he has inherited from the past. what a man does follows from what he is, which in turn is mostly dependent upon what his ancestors have been; and of all the links in the long chain of mind-evolution, few are more important and more suggestive than language. actions may at the moment speak louder than words, but methods of expression have as tell-tale a tongue for bygone times as ways of doing things. if it should ever fall to my lot to have to settle that exceedingly vexed eastern question,--not the emancipation of ancient greece from the bondage of the modern turk, but the emancipation of the modern college student from the bond of ancient greek,--i should propose, as a solution of the dilemma, the addition of a course in japanese to the college list of required studies. it might look, i admit, like begging the question for the sake of giving its answer, but the answer, i think, would justify itself. it is from no desire to parade a fresh hobby-horse upon the university curriculum that i offer the suggestion, but because i believe that a study of the japanese language would prove the most valuable of ponies in the academic pursuit of philology. in the matter of literature, indeed, we should not be adding very much to our existing store, but we should gain an insight into the genesis of speech that would put us at least one step nearer to being present at the beginnings of human conversation. as it is now, our linguistic learning is with most of us limited to a knowledge of aryan tongues, and in consequence we not only fall into the mistake of thinking our way the only way, which is bad enough, but, what is far worse, by not perceiving the other possible paths we quite fail to appreciate the advantages or disadvantages of following our own. we are the blind votaries of a species of ancestral language-worship, which, with all its erudition, tends to narrow our linguistic scope. a study of japanese would free us from the fetters of any such family infatuation. the inviolable rules and regulations of our mother-tongue would be found to be of relative application only. for we should discover that speech is a much less categorical matter than we had been led to suppose. we should actually come to doubt the fundamental necessity of some of our most sacred grammatical constructions; and even our reverenced latin grammars would lose that air of awful absoluteness which so impressed us in boyhood. an encouraging estimate of a certain missionary puts the amount of study needed by the western student for the learning of japanese as sufficient, if expended nearer home, to equip him with any three modern european languages. it is certainly true that a completely strange vocabulary, an utter inversion of grammar, and an elaborate system of honorifics combine to render its acquisition anything but easy. in its fundamental principles, however, it is alluringly simple. in the first place, the japanese language is pleasingly destitute of personal pronouns. not only is the obnoxious "i" conspicuous only by its absence; the objectionable antagonistic "you" is also entirely suppressed, while the intrusive "he" is evidently too much of a third person to be wanted. such invidious distinctions of identity apparently never thrust their presence upon the simple early tartar minds. i, you, and he, not being differences due to nature, demanded, to their thinking, no recognition of man. there is about this vagueness of expression a freedom not without its charm. it is certainly delightful to be able to speak of yourself as if you were somebody else, choosing mentally for the occasion any one you may happen to fancy, or, it you prefer, the possibility of soaring boldly forth into the realms of the unconditioned. to us, at first sight, however, such a lack of specification appears wofully incompatible with any intelligible transmission of ideas. so communistic a want of discrimination between the meum and the tuum--to say nothing of the claims of a possible third party--would seem to be as fatal to the interchange of thoughts as it proves destructive to the trafficking in commodities. such, nevertheless, is not the result. on the contrary, japanese is as easy and as certain of comprehension as is english. on ninety occasions out of a hundred, the context at once makes clear the person meant. in the very few really ambiguous cases, or those in which, for the sake of emphasis, a pronoun is wanted, certain consecrated expressions are introduced for the purpose. for eventually the more complex social relations of increasing civilization compelled some sort of distant recognition. accordingly, compromises with objectionable personality were effected by circumlocutions promoted to a pronoun's office, becoming thus pro-pronouns, as it were. very noncommittal expressions they are, most of them, such as: "the augustness," meaning you; "that honorable side," or "that corner," denoting some third person, the exact term employed in any given instance scrupulously betokening the relative respect in which the individual spoken of is held; while with a candor, an indefiniteness, or a humility worthy so polite a people, the i is known as "selfishness," or "a certain person," or "the clumsy one." pronominal adjectives are manufactured in the same way. "the stupid father," "the awkward son," "the broken-down firm," are "mine." were they "yours," they would instantly become "the august, venerable father," "the honorable son," "the exalted firm." [ ] even these lame substitutes for pronouns are paraded as sparingly as possible. to the western student, who brings to the subject a brain throbbing with personality, hunting in a japanese sentence for personal references is dishearteningly like "searching in the dark for a black hat which is n't there;" for the brevet pronouns are commonly not on duty. to employ them with the reckless prodigality that characterizes our conversation would strike the tartar mind like interspersing his talk with unmeaning italics. he would regard such discourse much as we do those effusive epistles of a certain type of young woman to her most intimate girl friends, in which every other word is emphatically underlined. for the most part, the absolutely necessary personal references are introduced by honorifics; that is, by honorary or humble expressions. such is a portion of the latter's duty. they do a great deal of unnecessary work besides. these honorifics are, taken as a whole, one of the most interesting peculiarities of japanese, as also of korean, just as, taken in detail, they are one of its most dangerous pitfalls. for silence is indeed golden compared with the chagrin of discovering that a speech which you had meant for a compliment was, in fact, an insult, or the vexation of learning that you have been industriously treating your servant with the deference due a superior,--two catastrophes sure to follow the attempts of even the most cautious of beginners. the language is so thoroughly imbued with the honorific spirit that the exposure of truth in all its naked simplicity is highly improper. every idea requires to be more or less clothed in courtesy before it is presentable; and the garb demanded by etiquette is complex beyond conception. to begin with, there are certain preliminary particles which are simply honorific, serving no other purpose whatsoever. in addition to these there are for every action a small infinity of verbs, each sacred to a different degree of respect. for instance, to our verb "to give" corresponds a complete social scale of japanese verbs, each conveying the idea a shade more politely than its predecessor; only the very lowest meaning anything so plebeian as simply "to give." sets of laudatory or depreciatory adjectives are employed in the same way. lastly, the word for "is," which strictly means "exists," expresses this existence under three different forms,--in a matter-of-fact, a flowing, or an inflated style; the solid, liquid, and gaseous states of conversation, so to speak, to suit the person addressed. but three forms being far too few for the needs of so elaborate a politeness, these are supplemented by many interpolated grades. terms of respect are applied not only to those mortals who are held in estimation higher than their fellows, but to all men indiscriminately as well. the grammatical attitude of the individual toward the speaker is of as much importance as his social standing, i being beneath contempt, and you above criticism. honorifics are used not only on all possible occasions for courtesy, but at times, it would seem, upon impossible ones; for in some instances the most subtle diagnosis fails to reveal in them a relevancy to anybody. that the commonest objects should bear titles because of their connection with some particular person is comprehensible, but what excuse can be made for a phrase like the following, "it respectfully does that the august seat exists," all of which simply means "is," and may be applied to anything, being the common word--in japanese it is all one word now--for that apparently simple idea. it would seem a sad waste of valuable material. the real reason why so much distinguished consideration is shown the article in question lies in the fact that it is treated as existing with reference to the person addressed, and therefore becomes ipso facto august. here is a still subtler example. you are, we will suppose, at a tea-house, and you wish for sugar. the following almost stereotyped conversation is pretty sure to take place. i translate it literally, simply prefacing that every tea-house girl, usually in the first blush of youth, is generically addressed as "elder sister,"--another honorific, at least so considered in japan. you clap your hands. (enter tea-house maiden.) you. hai, elder sister, augustly exists there sugar? the t. h. m. the honorable sugar, augustly is it? you. so, augustly. the t. h. m. he (indescribable expression of assent). (exit tea-house maiden to fetch the sugar.) now, the "augustlies" go almost without saying, but why is the sugar honorable? simply because it is eventually going to be offered to you. but she would have spoken of it by precisely the same respectful title, if she had been obliged to inform you that there was none, in which case it never could have become yours. such is politeness. we may note, in passing, that all her remarks and all yours, barring your initial question, meant absolutely nothing. she understood you perfectly from the first, and you knew she did; but then, if all of us were to say only what were necessary, the delightful art of conversation would soon be nothing but a science. the average far oriental, indeed, talks as much to no purpose as his western cousin, only in his chit-chat politeness replaces personalities. with him, self is suppressed, and an ever-present regard for others is substituted in its stead. a lack of personality is, as we have seen, the occasion of this courtesy; it is also its cause. that politeness should be one of the most marked results of impersonality may appear surprising, yet a slight examination will show it to be a fact. looked at a posteriori, we find that where the one trait exists the other is most developed, while an absence of the second seems to prevent the full growth of the first. this is true both in general and in detail. courtesy increases, as we travel eastward round the world, coincidently with a decrease in the sense of self. asia is more courteous than europe, europe than america. particular races show the same concomitance of characteristics. france, the most impersonal nation of europe, is at the same time the most polite. considered a priori, the connection between the two is not far to seek. impersonality, by lessening the interest in one's self, induces one to take an interest in others. introspection tends to make of man a solitary animal, the absence of it a social one. the more impersonal the people, the more will the community supplant the individual in the popular estimation. the type becomes the interesting thing to man, as it always is to nature. then, as the social desires develop, politeness, being the means to their enjoyment, develops also. a second omission in japanese etymology is that of gender. that words should be credited with sex is a verbal anthropomorphism that would seem to a japanese exquisitely grotesque, if so be that it did not strike him as actually immodest. for the absence of gender is simply symptomatic of a much more vital failing, a disregard of sex. originally, as their language bears witness, the japanese showed a childish reluctance to recognizing sex at all. usually a single sexless term was held sufficient for a given species, and did duty collectively for both sexes. only where a consideration of sex thrust itself upon them, beyond the possibility of evasion, did they employ for the male and the female distinctive expressions. the more intimate the relation of the object to man, the more imperative the discriminating name. hence human beings possessed a fair number of such special appellatives; for a man is a palpably different sort of person from his grandmother, and a mother-in-law from a wife. but it is noteworthy that the artificial affinities of society were as carefully differentiated as the distinctions due to sex, while ancestral relationships were deemed more important than either. animals, though treated individually most humanely, are vouchsafed but scant recognition on the score of sex. with them, both sexes share one common name, and commonly, indeed, this answers quite well enough. in those few instances where sex enters into the question in a manner not to be ignored, particles denoting "male" or "female" are prefixed to the general term. how comparatively rare is the need of such specification can be seen from the way in which, with us, in many species, the name of one sex alone does duty indifferently for both. that of the male is the one usually selected, as in the case of the dog or horse. if, however, it be the female with which man has most to do, she is allowed to bestow her name upon her male partner. examples of the latter description occur in the use of "cows" for "cattle," and "hens" for "fowls." a japanese can say only "fowl," defined, if absolutely necessary, as "he-fowl" or "she-fowl." now such a slighting of one of the most potent springs of human action, sex, with all that the idea involves, is not due to a pronounced misogynism on the part of these people, but to a much more effective neglect, a great underlying impersonality. indifference to woman is but included in a much more general indifference to mankind. the fact becomes all the more evident when we descend from sex to gender. that father ocean does not, in their verbal imagery, embrace mother earth, with that subtle suggestion of humanity which in aryan speech the gender of the nouns hints without expressing, is not due to any lack of poesy in the far oriental speaker, but to the essential impersonality of his mind, embodied now in the very character of the words he uses. a japanese noun is a crystallized concept, handed down unchanged from the childhood of the japanese race. so primitive a conception does it represent that it is neither a total nor a partial symbol, but rather the outcome of a first vague generality. the word "man," for instance, means to them not one man, still less mankind, but that indefinite idea which struggles for embodiment in the utterance of the infant. it represents not a person, but a thing, a material fact quite innocent of gender. this early state of semi-consciousness the japanese never outgrew. the world continued to present itself to their minds as a collection of things. nor did their subsequent chinese education change their view. buddhism simply infused all things with the one universal spirit. as to inanimate objects, the idea of supposing sex where there is not even life is altogether too fanciful a notion for the far eastern mind. impersonality first fashioned the nouns, and then the nouns, by their very impersonality, helped keep impersonal the thought and fettered fancy. all those temptings to poesy which to the aryan imagination lie latent in the sex with which his forefathers humanized their words, never stir the tartar nor the chinese soul. they feel the poetry of nature as much as, indeed much more than, we; but it is a poetry unassociated with man. and this, too, curiously enough, in spite of the fact that to explain the cosmos the chinamen invented, or perhaps only adapted, a singularly sexual philosophy. for possibly, like some other portions of their intellectual wealth, they stole it from india. the chinese conception of the origin of the world is based on the idea of sex. according to their notions the earth was begotten. it is true that with them the cosmos started in an abstract something, which self-produced two great principles; but this pair once obtained, matters proceeded after the analogy of mankind. the two principles at work were themselves abstract enough to have satisfied the most unimpassioned of philosophers. they were simply a positive essence and a negative one, correlated to sunshine and shadow, but also correlated to male and female forces. through their mutual action were born the earth and the air and the water; from these, in turn, was begotten man. the cosmical modus operandi was not creative nor evolutionary, but sexual. the whole scheme suggests an attempt to wed abstract philosophy with primitive concrete mythology. the same sexuality distinguishes the japanese demonology. here the physical replaces the philosophical; instead of principles we find allegorical personages, but they show just the same pleasing propensity to appear in pairs. this attributing of sexes to the cosmos is not in the least incompatible with an uninterested disregard of sex where it really exists. it is one thing to admit the fact as a general law of the universe, and quite another to dwell upon it as an important factor in every-day affairs. how slight is the tartar tendency to personification can be seen from a glance at these same japanese gods. they are a combination of defunct ancestors and deified natural phenomena. the evolving of the first half required little imagination, for fate furnished the material ready made; while in conjuring up the second moiety, the spirit-evokers showed even less originality. their results were neither winsome nor sublime. the gods whom they created they invested with very ordinary humanity, the usual endowment of aboriginal deity, together with the customary superhuman strength. if these demigods differed from others of their class, it was only in being more commonplace, and in not meddling much with man. even such personification of natural forces, simple enough to be self-suggested, quickly disappeared. the various awe-compelling phenomena soon ceased to have any connection with the anthropomorphic noumena they had begotten. for instance, the sun-goddess, we are informed, was one day lured out of a cavern, where she was sulking in consequence of the provoking behavior of her younger brother, by her curiosity at the sight of her own face in a mirror, ingeniously placed before the entrance for the purpose. but no japanese would dream now of casting any such reflections, however flattering, upon the face of the orb of day. the sun has become not only quite sexless to him, but as devoid of personality as it is to any western materialist. lesser deities suffered a like unsubstantial transformation. the thunder-god, with his belt of drums, upon which he beats a devil's tattoo until he is black in the face, is no longer even indirectly associated with the storm. as for dryads and nymphs, the beautiful creatures never inhabited eastern asia. anthropoid foxes and raccoons, wholly lacking in those engaging qualities that beget love, and through love remembrance, take their place. even benten, the naturalized venus, who, like her hellenic sister, is said to have risen from the sea, is a person quite incapable of inspiring a reckless infatuation. utterly unlike was this pantheon to the pantheon of the greeks, the personifying tendency of whose aryan mind was forever peopling nature with half-human inhabitants. under its quickening fancy the very clods grew sentient. dumb earth awoke at the call of its desire, and the beings its own poesy had begotten made merry companionship for man. then a change crept over the face of things. faith began to flicker, for want of facts to feed its flame. little by little the fires of devotion burnt themselves out. at last great pan died. the body of the old belief was consumed. but though it perished, its ashes preserved its form, an unsubstantial presentment of the past, to crumble in a twinkling at the touch of science, but keeping yet to the poet's eye the lifelike semblance of what once had been. the dead gods still live in our language and our art. even to-day the earth about us seems semiconscious to the soul, for the memories they have left. but with the far oriental the exorcising feeling was fear. he never fell in love with his own mythological creations, and so he never embalmed their memories. they were to him but explanations of facts, and had no claims upon his fancy. his ideal world remained as utterly impersonal as if it had never been born. the same impersonality reappears in the matter of number. grammatically, number with them is unrecognized. there exist no such things as plural forms. this singularity would be only too welcome to the foreign student, were it not that in avoiding the frying-pan the tartars fell into the fire. for what they invented in place of a plural was quite as difficult to memorize, and even more cumbrous to express. instead of inflecting the noun and then prefixing a number, they keep the noun unchanged and add two numerals; thus at times actually employing more words to express the objects than there are objects to express. one of these numerals is a simple number; the other is what is known as an auxiliary numeral, a word as singular in form as in function. thus, for instance, "two men" become amplified verbally into "man two individual," or, as the chinaman puts it, in pidgin english, "two piecey man." for in this respect chinese resembles japanese, though in very little else, and pidgin english is nothing but the literal translation of the chinese idiom into anglo-saxon words. the necessity for such elaborate qualification arises from the excessive simplicity of the japanese nouns. as we have seen, the noun is so indefinite a generality that simply to multiply it by a number cannot possibly produce any definite result. no exact counterpart of these nouns exists in english, but some idea of the impossibility of the process may be got from our word "cattle," which, prolific though it may prove in fact, remains obstinately incapable of verbal multiplication. all japanese nouns being of this indefinite description, all require auxiliary numerals. but as each one has its own appropriate numeral, about which a mistake is unpardonable, it takes some little study merely to master the etiquette of these handles to the names of things. nouns are not inflected, their cases being expressed by postpositions, which, as the name implies, follow, in becoming japanese inversion, instead of preceding the word they affect. to make up, nevertheless, for any lack of perplexity due to an absence of inflections, adjectives, en revanche, are most elaborately conjugated. their protean shapes are as long as they are numerous, representing not only times, but conditions. there are, for instance, the root form, the adverbial form, the indefinite form, the attributive form, and the conclusive form, the two last being conjugated through all the various voices, moods, and tenses, to say nothing of all the potential forms. as one change is superposed on another, the adjective ends by becoming three or four times its original length. the fact is, the adjective is either adjective, adverb, or verb, according to occasion. in the root form it also helps to make nouns; so that it is even more generally useful than as a journalistic epithet with us. as a verb, it does duty as predicate and copula combined. for such an unnecessary part of speech as a real copula does not exist in japanese. in spite of the shock to the prejudices of the old school of logicians, it must be confessed that the tartars get on very well without any such couplings to their trains of thought. but then we should remember that in their sentences the cart is always put before the horse, and so needs only to be pushed, not pulled along. the want of a copula is another instance of the primitive character of the tongue. it has its counterpart in our own baby-talk, where a quality is predicated of a thing simply by placing the adjective in apposition with the noun. that the japanese word which is commonly translated "is" is in no sense a copula, but an ordinary intransitive verb, referring to a natural state, and not to a logical condition, is evident in two ways. in the first place, it is never used to predicate a quality directly. a japanese does not say, "the scenery is fine," but simply, "scenery, fine." secondly, wherever this verb is indirectly employed in such a manner, it is followed, not by an adjective, but by an adverb. not "she is beautiful," but "she exists beautifully," would be the japanese way of expressing his admiration. what looks at first, therefore, like a copula turns out to be merely an impersonal intransitive verb. a negative noun is, of course, an impossibility in any language, just as a negative substantive, another name for the same thing, is a direct contradiction in terms. no matter how negative the idea to be given, it must be conveyed by a positive expression. even a void is grammatically quite full of meaning, although unhappily empty in fact. so much is common to all tongues, but japanese carries its positivism yet further. not only has it no negative nouns, it has not even any negative pronouns nor pronominal adjectives,--those convenient keepers of places for the absent. "none" and "nothing" are unknown words in its vocabulary, because the ideas they represent are not founded on observed facts, but upon metaphysical abstractions. such terms are human-born, not earth-begotten concepts, and so to the far oriental, who looks at things from the point of view of nature, not of man, negation takes another form. usually it is introduced by the verbs, because the verbs, for the most part, relate to human actions, and it is man, not nature, who is responsible for the omission in question. after all, it does seem more fitting to say, "i am ignorant of everything," than "i know nothing." it is indeed you who are wanting, not the thing. the question of verbs leads us to another matter bearing on the subject of impersonality; namely, the arrangement of the words in a japanese sentence. the tartar mode of grammatical construction is very nearly the inverse of our own. the fundamental rule of japanese syntax is, that qualifying words precede the words they qualify; that is, an idea is elaborately modified before it is so much as expressed. this practice places the hearer at some awkward preliminary disadvantage, inasmuch as the story is nearly over before he has any notion what it is all about; but really it puts the speaker to much more trouble, for he is obliged to fashion his whole sentence complete in his brain before he starts to speak. this is largely in consequence of two omissions in tartar etymology. there are in japanese no relative pronouns and no temporal conjunctions; conjunctions, that is, for connecting consecutive events. the want of these words precludes the admission of afterthoughts. postscripts in speech are impossible. the functions of relatives are performed by position, explanatory or continuative clauses being made to precede directly the word they affect. ludicrous anachronisms, not unlike those experienced by alice in her looking-glass journey, are occasioned by this practice. for example, "the merry monarch who ended by falling a victim to profound melancholia" becomes "to profound melancholia a victim by falling ended merry monarch," and the sympathetic hearer weeps first and laughs afterward, when chronologically he should be doing precisely the opposite. a like inversion of the natural order of things results from the absence of temporal conjunctions. in japanese, though nouns can be added, actions cannot; you can say "hat and coat," but not "dressed and came." conjunctions are used only for space, never for time. objects that exist together can be joined in speech, but it is not allowable thus to connect consecutive events. "having dressed, came" is the japanese idiom. to speak otherwise would be to violate the unities. for a japanese sentence is a single rounded whole, not a bunch of facts loosely tied together. it is as much a unit in its composition as a novel or a drama is with us. such artistic periods, however, are anything but convenient. in their nicely contrived involution they strikingly resemble those curious nests of chinese boxes, where entire shells lie closely packed one within another,--a very marvel of ingenious and perfectly unnecessary construction. one must be antipodally comprehensive to entertain the idea; as it is, the idea entertains us. on the same general plan, the nouns precede the verbs in the sentence, and are in every way the more important parts of speech. the consequence is that in ordinary conversation the verbs come so late in the day that they not infrequently get left out altogether. for the japanese are much given to docking their phrases, a custom the germans might do well to adopt. now, nouns denote facts, while verbs express action, and action, as considered in human speech, is mostly of human origin. in this precedence accorded the impersonal element in language over the personal, we observe again the comparative importance assigned the two. in japanese estimation, the first place belongs to nature, the second only to man. as if to mark beyond a doubt the insignificance of the part man plays in their thought, sentences are usually subjectless. although it is a common practice to begin a phrase with the central word of the idea, isolated from what follows by the emphasizing particle "wa" (which means "as to," the french "quant a"), the word thus singled out for distinction is far more likely to be the object of the sentence than its subject. the habit is analogous to the use of our phrase "speaking of,"--that is, simply an emphatic mode of introducing a fresh thought; only that with them, the practice being the rule and not the exception, no correspondingly abrupt effect is produced by it. ousted thus from the post of honor, the subject is not even permitted the second place. indeed, it usually fails to put in an appearance anywhere. you may search through sentence after sentence without meeting with the slightest suggestion of such a thing. when so unusual an anomaly as a motive cause is directly adduced, it owes its mention, not to the fact of being the subject, but because for other reasons it happens to be the important word of the thought. the truth is, the japanese conception of events is only very vaguely subjective. an action is looked upon more as happening than as being performed, as impersonally rather than personally produced. the idea is due, however, to anything but philosophic profundity. it springs from the most superficial of childish conceptions. for the japanese mind is quite the reverse of abstract. its consideration of things is concrete to a primitive degree. the language reflects the fact. the few abstract ideas these people now possess are not represented, for the most part, by pure japanese, but by imported chinese expressions. the islanders got such general notions from their foreign education, and they imported idea and word at the same time. summing up, as it were, in propria persona the impersonality of japanese speech, the word for "man," "hito," is identical with, and probably originally the same word as "hito," the numeral "one;" a noun and a numeral, from which aryan languages have coined the only impersonal pronoun they possess. on the one hand, we have the german "mann;" on the other, the french "on". while as if to give the official seal to the oneness of man with the universe, the word mono, thing, is applied, without the faintest implication of insult, to men. such, then, is the mould into which, as children, these people learn to cast their thought. what an influence it must exert upon their subsequent views of life we have but to ask of our own memories to know. with each one of us, if we are to advance beyond the steps of the last generation, there comes a time when our growing ideas refuse any longer to fit the childish grooves in which we were taught to let them run. how great the wrench is when this supreme moment arrives we have all felt too keenly ever to forget. we hesitate, we delay, to abandon the beliefs which, dating from the dawn of our being, seem to us even as a part of our very selves. from the religion of our mother to the birth of our boyish first love, all our early associations send down roots so deep that long after our minds have outgrown them our hearts refuse to give them up. even when reason conquers at last, sentiment still throbs at the voids they necessarily have left. in the far east, this fondness for the old is further consecrated by religion. the worship of ancestors sets its seal upon the traditions of the past, to break which were impious as well as sad. the golden age, that time when each man himself was young, has lingered on in the lands where it is always morning, and where man has never passed to his prosaic noon. befitting the place is the mind we find there. as its language so clearly shows, it still is in that early impersonal state to which we all awake first before we become aware of that something we later know so well as self. particularly potent with these people is their language, for a reason that also lends it additional interest to us,--because it is their own. among the mass of foreign thought the japanese imitativeness has caused the nation to adopt, here is one thing which is indigenous. half of the present speech, it is true, is of chinese importation, but conservatism has kept the other half pure. from what it reveals we can see how each man starts to-day with the same impersonal outlook upon life the race had reached centuries ago, and which it has since kept unchanged. the man's mind has done likewise. [ ] professor basil hall chamberlain: the japanese language. chapter . nature and art. we have seen how impersonal is the form which far eastern thought assumes when it crystallizes into words. let us turn now to a consideration of the thoughts themselves before they are thus stereotyped for transmission to others, and scan them as they find expression unconsciously in the man's doings, or seek it consciously in his deeds. to the far oriental there is one subject which so permeates and pervades his whole being as to be to him, not so much a conscious matter of thought as an unconscious mode of thinking. for it is a thing which shapes all his thoughts instead of constituting the substance of one particular set of them. that subject is art. to it he is born as to a birthright. artistic perception is with him an instinct to which he intuitively conforms, and for which he inherits the skill of countless generations. from the tips of his fingers to the tips of his toes, in whose use he is surprisingly proficient, he is the artist all over. admirable, however, as is his manual dexterity, his mental altitude is still more to be admired; for it is artistic to perfection. his perception of beauty is as keen as his comprehension of the cosmos is crude; for while with science he has not even a speaking acquaintance, with art he is on terms of the most affectionate intimacy. to the whole far eastern world science is a stranger. such nescience is patent even in matters seemingly scientific. for although the chinese civilization, even in the so-called modern inventions, was already old while ours lay still in the cradle, it was to no scientific spirit that its discoveries were due. notwithstanding the fact that cathay was the happy possessor of gunpowder, movable type, and the compass before such things were dreamt of in europe, she owed them to no knowledge of physics, chemistry, or mechanics. it was as arts, not as sciences, they were invented. and it speaks volumes for her civilization that she burnt her powder for fireworks, not for firearms. to the west alone belongs the credit of manufacturing that article for the sake of killing people instead of merely killing time. the scientific is not the far oriental point of view. to wish to know the reasons of things, that irrepressible yearning of the western spirit, is no characteristic of the chinaman's mind, nor is it a tartar trait. metaphysics, a species of speculation that has usually proved peculiarly attractive to mankind, probably from its not requiring any scientific capital whatever, would seem the most likely place to seek it. but upon such matters he has expended no imagination of his own, having quietly taken on trust from india what he now professes. as for science proper, it has reached at his hands only the quasimorphologic stage; that is, it consists of catalogues concocted according to the ingenuity of the individual and resembles the real thing about as much as a haphazard arrangement of human bones might be expected to resemble a man. not only is the spirit of the subject left out altogether, but the mere outward semblance is misleading. for pseudo-scientific collections of facts which never rise to be classifications of phenomena forms to his idea the acme of erudition. his mathematics, for example, consists of a set of empiric rules, of which no explanation is ever vouchsafed the taught for the simple reason that it is quite unknown to the teacher. it is not even easy to decide how much of what there is is jesuitical. of more recent sciences he has still less notion, particularly of the natural ones. physics, chemistry, geology, and the like are matters that have never entered his head. even in studies more immediately connected with obvious everyday life, such as language, history, customs, it is truly remarkable how little he possesses the power of generalization and inference. his elaborate lists of facts are imposing typographically, but are not even formally important, while his reasoning about them is as exquisite a bit of scientific satire as could well be imagined. but with the arts it is quite another matter. while you will search in vain, in his civilization, for explanations of even the most simple of nature's laws, you will meet at every turn with devices for the beautifying of life, which may stand not unworthily beside the products of nature's own skill. whatever these people fashion, from the toy of an hour to the triumphs of all time, is touched by a taste unknown elsewhere. to stroll down the broadway of tokio of an evening is a liberal education in everyday art. as you enter it there opens out in front of you a fairy-like vista of illumination. two long lines of gayly lighted shops, stretching off into the distance, look out across two equally endless rows of torch-lit booths, the decorous yellow gleam of the one contrasting strangely with the demoniacal red flare of the other. this perspective of pleasure fulfils its promise. as your feet follow your eyes you find yourself in a veritable shoppers' paradise, the galaxy of twinkle resolving into worlds of delight. nor do you long remain a mere spectator; for the shops open their arms to you. no cold glass reveals their charms only to shut you off. their wares lie invitingly exposed to the public, seeming to you already half your own. at the very first you come to you stop involuntarily, lost in admiration over what you take to be bric-a-brac. it is only afterwards you learn that the object of your ecstasy was the commonest of kitchen crockery. next door you halt again, this time in front of some leathern pocket-books, stamped with designs in color to tempt you instantly to empty your wallet for more new ones than you will ever have the means to fill. if you do succeed in tearing yourself away purse-whole, it is only to fall a victim to some painted fans of so exquisite a make and decoration that escape short of possession is impossible. opposed as stubbornly as you may be to idle purchase at home, here you will find yourself the prey of an acute case of shopping fever before you know it. nor will it be much consolation subsequently to discover that you have squandered your patrimony upon the most ordinary articles of every-day use. if in despair you turn for refuge to the booths, you will but have delivered yourself into the embrace of still more irresistible fascinations. for the nocturnal squatters are there for the express purpose of catching the susceptible. the shops were modestly attractive from their nature, but the booths deliberately make eyes at you, and with telling effect. the very atmosphere is bewitching. the lurid smurkiness of the torches lends an appropriate weirdness to the figure of the uncouthly clad pedlar who, with the politeness of the arch-fiend himself, displays to an eager group the fatal fascinations of some new conceit. here the latest thing in inventions, a gutta-percha rat, which, for reasons best known to the vender, scampers about squeaking with a mimicry to shame the original, holds an admiring crowd spellbound with mingled trepidation and delight. there a native zoetrope, indefatigable round of pleasure, whose top fashioned after the type of a turbine wheel enables a candle at the centre ingeniously to supply both illumination and motive power at the same time, affords to as many as can find room on its circumference a peep at the composite antics of a consecutively pictured monkey in the act of jumping a box. beyond this "wheel of life" lies spread out on a mat a most happy family of curios, the whole of which you are quite prepared to purchase en bloc. while a little farther on stands a flower show which seems to be coyly beckoning to you as the blossoms nod their heads to an imperceptible breeze. so one attraction fairly jostles its neighbor for recognition from the gay thousands that like yourself stroll past in holiday delight. chattering children in brilliant colors, voluble women and talkative men in quieter but no less picturesque costumes, stream on in kaleidoscopic continuity. and you, carried along by the current, wander thus for miles with the tide of pleasure-seekers, till, late at night, when at last you turn reluctantly homeward, you feel as one does when wakened from some too delightful dream. or instead of night, suppose it day and the place a temple. with those who are entering you enter too through the outer gateway into the courtyard. at the farther end rises a building the like of which for richness of effect you have probably never beheld or even imagined. in front of you a flight of white stone steps leads up to a terrace whose parapet, also of stone, is diapered for half its height and open latticework the rest. this piazza gives entrance to a building or set of buildings whose every detail challenges the eye. twelve pillars of snow-white wood sheathed in part with bronze, arranged in four rows, make, as it were, the bones of the structure. the space between the centre columns lies open. the other triplets are webbed in the middle and connected, on the sides and front, by grilles of wood and bronze forming on the outside a couple of embrasures on either hand the entrance in which stand the guardian nio, two colossal demons, gog and magog. instead of capitals, a frieze bristling with chinese lions protects the top of the pillars. above this in place of entablature rises tier upon tier of decoration, each tier projecting beyond the one beneath, and the topmost of all terminating in a balcony which encircles the whole second story. the parapet of this balcony is one mass of ornament, and its cornice another row of lions, brown instead of white. the second story is no less crowded with carving. twelve pillars make its ribs, the spaces between being filled with elaborate woodwork, while on top rest more friezes, more cornices, clustered with excrescences of all colors and kinds, and guarded by lions innumerable. to begin to tell the details of so multi-faceted a gem were artistically impossible. it is a jewel of a thousand rays, yet whose beauties blend into one as the prismatic tints combine to white. and then, after the first dazzle of admiration, when the spirit of curiosity urges you to penetrate the centre aisle, lo and behold it is but a gate! the dupe of unexpected splendor, you have been paying court to the means of approach. it is only a portal after all. for as you pass through, you catch a glimpse of a building beyond more gorgeous still. like in general to the first, unlike it in detail, resembling it only as the mistress may the maid. but who shall convince of charm by enumerating the features of a face! from the tiles of its terrace to the encrusted gables that drape it as with some rich bejewelled mantle falling about it in the most graceful of folds, it is the very eastern princess of a building standing in the majesty of her court to give you audience. a pebbly path, a low flight of stone steps, a pause to leave your shoes without the sill, and you tread in the twilight of reverence upon the moss-like mats within. the richness of its outer ornament, so impressive at first, is, you discover, but prelude to the lavish luxury of its interior. lacquer, bronze, pigments, deck its ceiling and its sides in such profusion that it seems to you as if art had expanded, in the congenial atmosphere, into a tropical luxuriance of decoration, and grew here as naturally on temples as in the jungle creepers do on trees. yet all is but setting to what the place contains; objects of bigotry and virtue that appeal to the artistic as much as to the religious instincts of the devout. more sacred still are the things treasured in the sanctum of the priests. there you will find gems of art for whose sake only the most abnormal impersonality can prevent you from breaking the tenth commandment. of the value set upon them you can form a distant approximation from the exceeding richness and the amazing number of the silk cloths and lacquered boxes in which they are so religiously kept. as you gaze thus, amid the soul-satisfying repose of the spot, at some masterpiece from the brush of motonobu, you find yourself wondering, in a fanciful sort of way, whether buddhist contemplation is not after all only another name for the contemplation of the beautiful, since devotees to the one are ex officio such votaries of the other. dissimilar as are these two glimpses of japanese existence, in one point the bustling street and the hushed temple are alike,--in the nameless grace that beautifies both. this spirit is even more remarkable for its all-pervasiveness than for its inherent excellence. both objectively and subjectively its catholicity is remarkable. it imbues everything, and affects everybody. so universally is it applied to the daily affairs of life that there may be said to be no mechanical arts in japan simply because all such have been raised to the position of fine arts. the lowest artisan is essentially an artist. modern french nomenclature on the subject, in spite of the satire to which the more prosaic anglo-saxon has subjected it, is peculiarly applicable there. to call a japanese cook, for instance, an artist would be but the barest acknowledgment of fact, for japanese food is far more beautiful to look at than agreeable to eat; while tokio tailors are certainly masters of drapery, if they are sublimely oblivious to the natural modelings of the male or female form. on the other hand, art is sown, like the use of tobacco, broadcast among the people. it is the birthright of the far east, the talent it never hides. throughout the length and breadth of the land, and from the highest prince to the humblest peasant, art reigns supreme. now such a prevalence of artistic feeling implies of itself impersonality in the people. at first sight it might seem as if science did the same, and that in this respect the one hemisphere offset the other, and that consequently both should be equally impersonal. but in the first place, our masses are not imbued with the scientific spirit, as theirs are with artistic sensibility. who would expect of a mason an impersonal interest in the principles of the arch, or of a plumber a non-financial devotion to hydraulics? certainly one would be wrong in crediting the masses in general or european waiters in particular with much abstract love of mathematics, for example. in the second place, there is an essential difference in the attitude of the two subjects upon personality. emotionally, science appeals to nobody, art to everybody. now the emotions constitute the larger part of that complex bundle of ideas which we know as self. a thought which is not tinged to some extent with feeling is not only not personal; properly speaking, it is not even distinctively human, but cosmical. in its lofty superiority to man, science is unpersonal rather than impersonal. art, on the other hand, is a familiar spirit. through the windows of the senses she finds her way into the very soul of man, and makes for herself a home there. but it is to his humanity, not to his individuality, that she whispers, for she speaks in that universal tongue which all can understand. examples are not wanting to substantiate theory. it is no mere coincidence that the two most impersonal nations of europe and asia respectively, the french and the japanese, are at the same time the most artistic. even politeness, which, as we have seen, distinguishes both, is itself but a form of art,--the social art of living agreeably with one's fellows. this impersonality comes out with all the more prominence when we pass from the consideration of art in itself to the spirit which actuates that art, and especially when we compare their spirit with our own. the mainsprings of far eastern art may be said to be three: nature, religion, and humor. incongruous collection that they are, all three witness to the same trait. for the first typifies concrete impersonality, the second abstract impersonality, while the province of the last is to ridicule personality generally. of the trio the first is altogether the most important. indeed, to a far oriental, so fundamental a part of himself is his love of nature that before we view its mirrored image it will be well to look the emotion itself in the face. the far oriental lives in a long day-dream of beauty. he muses rather than reasons, and all musing, so the word itself confesses, springs from the inspiration of a muse. but this muse appears not to him, as to the greeks, after the fashion of a woman, nor even more prosaically after the likeness of a man. unnatural though it seem to us, his inspiration seeks no human symbol. his muse is not kin to mankind. she is too impersonal for any personification, for she is nature. that poet whose name carries with it a certain presumption of infallibility has told us that "the proper study of mankind is man;" and if material advancement in consequence be any criterion of the fitness of a particular mental pursuit, events have assuredly justified the saying. indeed, the levant has helped antithetically to preach the same lesson, in showing us by its own fatal example that the improper study of mankind is woman, and that they who but follow the fair will inevitably degenerate. the far oriental knows nothing of either study, and cares less. the delight of self-exploration, or the possibly even greater delight of losing one's self in trying to fathom femininity, is a sensation equally foreign to his temperament. neither the remarkable persistence of one's own characteristics, not infrequently matter of deep regret to their possessor, nor the charmingly unaccountable variability of the fairer sex, at times quite as annoying, is a phenomenon sufficient to stir his curiosity. accepting, as he does, the existing state of things more as a material fact than as a phase in a gradual process of development, he regards humanity as but a small part of the great natural world, instead of considering it the crowning glory of the whole. he recognizes man merely as a fraction of the universe,--one might almost say as a vulgar fraction of it, considering the low regard in which he is held,--and accords him his proportionate share of attention, and no more. in his thought, nature is not accessory to man. worthy m. perichon, of prosaic, not to say philistinic fame, had, as we remember, his travels immortalized in a painting where a colossal perichon in front almost completely eclipsed a tiny mont blanc behind. a far oriental thinks poetry, which may possibly account for the fact that in his mind-pictures the relative importance of man and mountain stands reversed. "the matchless fuji," first of motifs in his art, admits no pilgrim as its peer. nor is it to woman that turn his thoughts. mother earth is fairer, in his eyes, than are any of her daughters. to her is given the heart that should be theirs. the far eastern love of nature amounts almost to a passion. to the study of her ever varying moods her japanese admirer brings an impersonal adoration that combines oddly the aestheticism of a poet with the asceticism of a recluse. not that he worships in secret, however. his passion is too genuine either to find disguise or seek display. with us, unfortunately, the love of nature is apt to be considered a mental extravagance peculiar to poets, excusable in exact ratio to the ability to give it expression. for an ordinary mortal to feel a fondness for mother earth is a kind of folly, to be carefully concealed from his fellows. a sort of shamefacedness prevents him from avowing it, as a boy at boarding-school hides his homesickness, or a lad his love. he shrinks from appearing less pachydermatous than the rest. or else he flies to the other extreme, and affects the odd; pretends, poses, parades, and at last succeeds half in duping himself, half in deceiving other people. but with far orientals the case is different. their love has all the unostentatious assurance of what has received the sanction of public opinion. nor is it still at that doubtful, hesitating stage when, by the instrumentality of a third, its soul-harmony can suddenly be changed from the jubilant major key into the despairing minor. no trace of sadness tinges his delight. he has long since passed this melancholy phase of erotic misery, if so be that the course of his true love did not always run smooth, and is now well on in matrimonial bliss. the very look of the land is enough to betray the fact. in japan the landscape has an air of domesticity about it, patent even to the most casual observer. wherever the japanese has come in contact with the country he has made her unmistakably his own. he has touched her to caress, not injure, and it seems as if nature accepted his fondness as a matter of course, and yielded him a wifely submission in return. his garden is more human, even, than his house. not only is everything exquisitely in keeping with man, but natural features are actually changed, plastic to the imprint of their lord and master's mind. bushes, shrubs, trees, forget to follow their original intent, and grow as he wills them to; now expanding in wanton luxuriance, now contracting into dwarf designs of their former selves, all to obey his caprice and please his eye. even stubborn rocks lose their wildness, and come to seem a part of the almost sentient life around them. if the description of such dutifulness seems fanciful, the thing itself surpasses all supposition. hedges and shrubbery, clipped into the most fantastic shapes, accept the suggestion of the pruning-knife as if man's wishes were their own whims. manikin maples, tom thumb trees, a foot high and thirty years old, with all the gnarls and knots and knuckles of their fellows of the forest, grow in his parterres, their native vitality not a whit diminished. and they are not regarded as monstrosities but only as the most natural of artificialities; for they are a part of a horticultural whole. to walk into a japanese garden is like wandering of a sudden into one of those strange worlds we see reflected in the polished surface of a concave mirror, where all but the observer himself is transformed into a fantastic miniature of the reality. in that quaint fairyland diminutive rivers flow gracefully under tiny trees, past mole-hill mountains, till they fall at last into lilliputian lakes, almost smothered for the flowers that grow upon their banks; while in the extreme distance of a couple of rods the cone of a fuji ten feet high looks approvingly down upon a scene which would be nationally incomplete without it. but besides the delights of domesticity which the japanese enjoys daily in nature's company, he has his acces de tendresse, too. when he feels thus specially stirred, he invites a chosen few of his friends, equally infatuated, and together they repair to some spot noted for its scenery. it may be a waterfall, or some dreamy pond overhung by trees, or the distant glimpse of a mountain peak framed in picture-wise between the nearer hills; or, at their appropriate seasons, the blossoming of the many tree flowers, which in eastern asia are beautiful beyond description. for he appreciates not only places, but times. one spot is to be seen at sunrise, another by moonlight; one to be visited in the spring-time, another in the fall. but wherever or whenever it be, a tea-house, placed to command the best view of the sight, stands ready to receive him. for nature's beauties are too well recognized to remain the exclusive property of the first chance lover. people flock to view nature as we do to see a play, and privacy is as impossible as it is unsought. indeed, the aversion to publicity is simply a result of the sense of self, and therefore necessarily not a feature of so impersonal a civilization. aesthetic guidebooks are written for the nature-enamoured, descriptive of these views which the japanese translator quaintly calls "sceneries," and which visitors come not only from near but from far to gaze upon. in front of the tea-house proper are rows of summer pavilions, in one of which the party make themselves at home, while gentle little tea-house girls toddle forth to serve them the invariable preliminary tea and confections. each man then produces from up his sleeve, or from out his girdle, paper, ink, and brush, and proceeds to compose a poem on the beauty of the spot and the feelings it calls up, which he subsequently reads to his admiring companions. hot sake is next served, which is to them what beer is to a german or absinthe to a blouse; and there they sit, sip, and poetize, passing their couplets, as they do their cups, in honor to one another. at last, after drinking in an hour or two of scenery and sake combined, the symposium of poets breaks up. sometimes, instead of a company of friends, a man will take his family, wife, babies, and all, on such an outing, but the details of his holiday are much the same as before. for the scenery is still the centre of attraction, and in the attendant creature comforts far eastern etiquette permits an equal enjoyment to man, woman, and child. this love of nature is quite irrespective of social condition. all classes feel its force, and freely indulge the feeling. poor as well as rich, low as well as high, contrive to gratify their poetic instincts for natural scenery. as for flowers, especially tree flowers, or those of the larger plants, like the lotus or the iris, the japanese appreciation of their beauty is as phenomenal as is that beauty itself. those who can afford the luxury possess the shrubs in private; those who cannot, feast their eyes on the public specimens. from a sprig in a vase to a park planted on purpose, there is no part of them too small or too great to be excluded from far oriental affection. and of the two "drawing-rooms" of the mikado held every year, in april and november, both are garden-parties: the one given at the time and with the title of "the cherry blossoms," and the other of "the chrysanthemum." these same tree flowers deserve more than a passing notice, not simply because of their amazing beauty, which would arrest attention anywhere, but for the national attitude toward them. for no better example of the japanese passion for nature could well be cited. if the anniversaries of people are slightingly treated in the land of the sunrise, the same cannot be said of plants. the yearly birthdays of the vegetable world are observed with more than botanic enthusiasm. the regard in which they are held is truly emotional, and it not actually individual in its object, at least personal to the species. each kind of tree as its season brings it into flower is made the occasion of a festival. for the beauty of the blossoming receives the tribute of a national admiration. from peers to populace mankind turns out to witness it. nor are these occasions few. spring in the far east is one long chain of flower fetes, and as spring begins by the end of january and lasts till the middle of june, opportunities for appreciating each in turn are not half spoiled by a common contemporaneousness. people have not only occasion but time to admire. indeed, spring itself is suitably respected by being dated conformably to fact. far orientals begin their year when nature begins hers, instead of starting anachronously as we do in the very middle of the dead season, much as our colleges hold their commencements, on the last in place at on the first day of the academic term. so previous has the haste of western civilization become. the result is that our rejoicing partakes of the incongruity of humor. the new year exists only in name. in the far east, on the other band, the calendar is made to fit the time. men begin to reckon their year some three weeks later than the western world, just as the plum-tree opens its pink white petals, as it were, in rosy reflection of the snow that lies yet upon the ground. but the coldness of the weather does not in the least deter people from thronging the spot in which the trees grow, where they spend hours in admiration, and end by pinning appropriate poems on the twigs for later comers to peruse. fleeting as the flowers are in fact, they live forever in fancy. for they constitute one of the commonest motifs of both painting and poetry. a branch just breaking into bloom seen against the sunrise sky, or a bough bending its blossoms to the bosom of a stream, is subject enough for their greatest masters, who thus wed, as it were, two arts in one,--the spirit of poesy with pictorial form. this plum-tree is but a blossom. precocious harbinger of a host of flowers, its gay heralding over, it vanishes not to be recalled, for it bears no edible fruit. the next event in the series might fairly be called phenomenal. early in april takes place what is perhaps as superb a sight as anything in this world, the blossoming of the cherry-trees. indeed, it is not easy to do the thing justice in description. if the plum invited admiration, the cherry commands it; for to see the sakura in flower for the first time is to experience a new sensation. familiar as a man may be with cherry blossoms at home, the sight there bursts upon him with the dazzling effect of a revelation. such is the profusion of flowers that the tree seems to have turned into a living mass of rosy light. no leaves break the brilliance. the snowy-pink petals drape the branches entirely, yet so delicately, one deems it all a veil donned for the tree's nuptials with the spring. for nothing could more completely personify the spirit of the spring-time. you can almost fancy it some dryad decked for her bridal, in maidenly day-dreaming too lovely to last. for like the plum the cherry fails in its fruit to fulfil the promise of its flower. it would be strange indeed if so much beauty received no recognition, but it is even more strange that recognition should be so complete and so universal as it is. appreciation is not confined to the cultivated few; it is shown quite as enthusiastically by the masses. the popularity of the plants is all-embracing. the common people are as sensitive to their beauty as are the upper classes. private gratification, roseate as it is, pales beside the public delight. indeed, not content with what revelation nature makes of herself of her own accord, man has multiplied her manifestations. spots suitable to their growth have been peopled by him with trees. sometimes they stand in groups like star-clusters, as in oji, crowning a hill; sometimes, as at mukojima, they line an avenue for miles, dividing the blue river on the one hand from the blue-green rice-fields on the other,--a floral milky way of light. but wherever the trees may be, there at their flowering season are to be found throngs of admirers. for in crowds people go out to see the sight, multitudes streaming incessantly to and fro beneath their blossoms as the time of day determines the turn of the human tide. to the occidental stranger such a gathering suggests some social loadstone; but none exists. in the cherry-trees alone lies the attraction. for one week out of the fifty-two the cherry-tree stands thus glorified, a vision of beauty prolonged somewhat by the want of synchronousness of the different kinds. then the petals fall. what was a nuptial veil becomes a winding-sheet, covering the sod as with winter's winding-sheet of snow, destined itself to disappear, and the tree is nothing but a common cherry-tree once more. but flowers are by no means over because the cherry blossoms are past. a brief space, and the same crowds that flocked to the cherry turn to the wistaria. gardens are devoted to the plants, and the populace greatly given to the gardens. there they go to sit and gaze at the grape-like clusters of pale purple flowers that hang more than a cubit long over the wooden trellis, and grow daily down toward their own reflections in the pond beneath, vying with one another in narcissus-like endeavor. and the people, as they sip their tea on the veranda opposite, behold a doubled delight, the flower itself and its mirrored image stretching to kiss. after the wistaria comes the tree-peony, and then the iris, with its trefoil flowers broader than a man may span, and at all colors under the sky. to one who has seen the great japanese fleur-de-lis, france looks ludicrously infelicitous in her choice of emblem. but the list grows too long, limited as it is only by its own annual repetition. we have as yet reached but the first week in june; the summer and autumn are still to come, the first bringing the lotus for its crown, and the second the chrysanthemum. and lazily grand the lotus is, itself the embodiment of the spirit of the drowsy august air, the very essence of buddha-like repose. the castle moats are its special domain, which in this its flowering season it wrests wholly from their more proper occupant--the water. a dense growth of leather-like leaves, above which rise in majestic isolation the solitary flowers, encircles the outer rampart, shutting the castle in as it might be the palace of the sleeping beauty. in the delightful dreaminess that creeps over one as he stands thus before some old daimyo's former abode in the heart of japan, he forgets all his metaphysical difficulties about nirvana, for he fancies he has found it, one long lotus afternoon. and then last, but in some sort first, since it has been taken for the imperial insignia, comes the chrysanthemum. the symmetry of its shape well fits it to symbolize the completeness of perfection which the mikado, the son of heaven, mundanely represents. it typifies, too, the fullness of the year; for it marks, as it were, the golden wedding of the spring, the reminiscence in november of the nuptials of the may. its own color, however, is not confined to gold. it may be of almost any hue and within the general limits of a circle of any form. now it is a chariot wheel with petals for spokes; now a ball of fire with lambent tongues of flame; while another kind seems the button of some natural legion of honor, and still another a pin-wheel in nature's own day-fireworks. admired as a thing of beauty for its own sake, it is also used merely as a material for artistic effects; for among the quaintest of such conceits are the japanese jarley chrysanthemum works. every november in the florists' gardens that share the temple grounds at asakusa may be seen groups of historical and mythological figures composed entirely of chrysanthemum flowers. these effigies are quite worthy of comparison with their london cousins, being sufficiently life-like to terrify children and startle anybody. to come suddenly, on turning a corner, upon a colossal warrior, deterrently uncouth and frightfully battle-clad, in the act of dispatching a fallen foe, is a sensation not instantly dispelled by the fact that he is made of flowers. the practice, at least, bears witness to an artistic ingenuity of no mean merit, and to a horticulture ably carried on, if somewhat eccentrically applied. from the passing of the chrysanthemum dates the dead season. but it is suitably short-lived. sometimes as early as november, the plum-tree is already blossoming again. even from so imperfectly gathered a garland it will be seen that the japanese do not lack for opportunities to admire, nor do they turn coldly away from what they are given. indeed, they may be said to live in a chronic state of flower-fever; but in spite of the vast amount of admiration which they bestow on plants, it is not so much the quantity of that admiration as the quality of it which is remarkable. the intense appreciation shown the subject by the far oriental is something whose very character seems strange to us, and when in addition we consider that it permeates the entire people from the commonest coolie to the most aesthetic courtier, it becomes to our comprehension a state of things little short of inexplicable. to call it artistic sensibility is to use too limited a term, for it pervades the entire people; rather is it a sixth sense of a natural, because national description; for the trait differs from our corresponding feeling in degree, and especially in universality enough to merit the distinction. their care for tree flowers is not confined to a cultivation, it is a cult. it approaches to a sort of natural nature-worship, an adoration in which nothing is personified. for the emotion aroused in the far oriental is just as truly an emotion as it was to the greek; but whereas the greek personified its object, the japanese admires that object for what it is. to think of the cherry-tree, for instance, as a woman, would be to his mind a conception transcending even the limits of the ludicrous. chapter . art. that nature, not man, is their beau ideal, the source of inspiration to them, is evident again on looking at their art. the same spirit that makes of them such wonderful landscape gardeners and such wonder-full landscape gazers shows itself unmistakably in their paintings. the current impression that japanese pictorial ambition, and consequent skill, is confined to the representation of birds and flowers, though entirely erroneous as it stands, has a grain of truth behind it. this idea is due to the attitude of the foreign observers, and was in fact a tribute to japanese technique rather than an appreciation of far eastern artistic feeling. the truth is, the foreigners brought to the subject their own western criteria of merit, and judged everything by these standards. such works naturally commended themselves most as had least occasion to deviate from their canons. the simplest pictures, therefore, were pronounced the best. paintings of birds and flowers were thus admitted to be fine, because their realism spoke for itself. of the exquisite poetic feeling of their landscape paintings the foreign critics were not at first conscious, because it was not expressed in terms with which they were familiar. but first impressions, here as elsewhere, are valuable. one is very apt to turn to them again from the reasoning of his second thoughts. flora and fauna are a conspicuous feature of far asiatic art, because they enter as details of the subject-matter of the artist's thoughts and day-dreams. these birds and flowers are his sujets de genre. where we should select a phase of human life for effective isolation, they choose instead a bit of nature. a spray of grass or a twig of cherry-blossoms is motif enough for them. to their thought its beauty is amply suggestive. for to the far oriental all nature is sympathetically sentient. his admiration, instead of being centred on man, embraces the universe. his art reflects it. leaving out of consideration, for the moment, minor though still important distinctions in tone, treatment, and technique, the great fundamental difference between western and far eastern art lies in its attitude toward humanity. with us, from the time of the greeks to the present day, man has been the cynosure of artistic eyes; with them he has never been vouchsafed more than a casual, not to say a cursory glance, even woman failing to rivet his attention. one of our own writers has said that, without passing the bounds of due respect, a man is permitted two looks at any woman he may meet, one to recognize, one to admire. a japanese ordinarily never dreams of taking but one,--if indeed he goes so far as that,--the first. it is the omitting to take that second look that has left him what he is. not that fortune has been unpropitious; only blind. fate has offered him opportunity enough; too much, perhaps. for in japan the exposure of the female form is without a parallel in latitude. never nude, it is frequently naked. the result artistically is much the same, though the cause be different. for it is a fatal mistake to suppose the japanese an immodest people. according to their own standards, they are exceedingly modest. no respectable japanese woman would, for instance, ever for a moment turn out her toes in walking. it is considered immodest to do so. their code is, however, not so whimsical as this bit of etiquette might suggest. the intent is with them the touchstone of propriety. in their eyes a state of nature is not a state of indecency. whatever exposure is required for convenience is right; whatever unnecessary, wrong. such an eden-like condition of society would seem to be the very spot for a something like the modern french school of art to have developed in. and yet it is just that study of the nude which has from immemorial antiquity been entirely neglected in the far east. an ancient greek, to say nothing of a modern parisian, would have shocked a japanese. yet we are shocked by them. we are astounded at the sights we see in their country villages, while they in their turn marvel at the exhibitions they witness in our city theatres. at their watering-places the two sexes bathe promiscuously together in all the simplicity of nature; but for a japanese woman to appear on the stage in any character, however proper, would be deemed indecent. the difference between the two hemispheres may be said to consist in an artless liberty on the one hand, and artistic license on the other. their unwritten code of propriety on the subject seems to be, "you must see, but you may not observe." these people live more in accordance with their code of propriety than we do with ours. all classes alike conform to it. the adjective "respectable," used above as a distinction in speaking of woman, was in reality superfluous, for all women there, as far as appearance goes, are respectable. even the most abandoned creature does not betray her status by her behavior. the reason of this uniformity and its psychological importance i shall discuss later. this form of modesty, a sort of want of modesty of form, has no connection whatever with sex. it applies with equal force to the male figure, which is even more exposed than the female, and offers anatomical suggestions invaluable alike to the artistic and medical professions,--suggestions that are equally ignored by both. the coolies are frequently possessed of physiques which would have delighted michael angelo; and as for the phenomenal corpulency of the wrestlers, it would have made of the place a very paradise for rubens. in regard to the doctors,--for to call them surgeons would be to give a name to what does not exist,--a lack of scientific zeal has been the cause of their not investigating what tempts too seductively, we should imagine, to be ignored. acupuncture, or the practice of sticking long pins into any part of the patient's body that may happen to be paining him, pretty much irrespective of anatomical position, is the nearest approach to surgery of which they are guilty, and proclaims of itself the in corpore vili character of the thing operated upon. nor does the painter owe anything to science. he represents humanity simply as he sees it in its every-day costume; and it betokens the highest powers of generalized observation that he produces the results he does. in his drawings, man is shown, not as he might look in the primitive, or privitive, simplicity of his ancestral garden of eden, but as he does look in the ordinary wear and tear of his present garments. civilization has furnished him with clothes, and he prefers, when he has his picture taken, to keep them on. in dealing with man, the far oriental artist is emphatically a realist; it is when he turns to nature that he becomes ideal. but by ideal is not meant here conventional. that term of reproach is a misnomer, founded upon a mistake. his idealism is simply the outcome of his love, which, like all human love, transfigures its object. the far oriental has plenty of this, which, if sometimes a delusion, seems also second sight, but it is peculiarly impersonal. his color-blindness to the warm, blood-red end of the spectrum of life in no wise affects his perception of the colder beauty of the great blues and greens of nature. to their poetry he is ever sensitive. his appreciation of them is something phenomenal, and his power of presentation worthy his appreciation. a japanese painting is a poem rather than a picture. it portrays an emotion called up by a scene, and not the scene itself in all its elaborate complexity. it undertakes to give only so much of it as is vital to that particular feeling, and intentionally omits all irrelevant details. it is the expression caught from a glimpse of the soul of nature by the soul of man; the mirror of a mood, passing, perhaps, in fact, but perpetuated thus to fancy. being an emotion, its intensity is directly proportional to the singleness with which it possesses the thoughts. the far oriental fully realizes the power of simplicity. this principle is his fundamental canon of pictorial art. to understand his paintings, it is from this standpoint they must be regarded; not as soulless photographs of scenery, but as poetic presentations of the spirit of the scenes. the very charter of painting depends upon its not giving us charts. and if with us a long poem be a contradiction in terms, a full picture is with them as self-condemnatory a production. from the contemplation of such works of art as we call finished, one is apt, after he has once appreciated far eastern taste, to rise with an unpleasant feeling of satiety, as if he has eaten too much at the feast. their paintings, by comparison, we call sketches. is not our would-be slight unwittingly the reverse? is not a sketch, after all, fuller of meaning, to one who knows how to read it, than a finished affair, which is very apt to end with itself, barren of fruit? does not one's own imagination elude one's power to portray it? is it not forever flitting will-o'-the-wisp-like ahead of us just beyond exact definition? for the soul of art lies in what art can suggest, and nothing is half so suggestive as the half expressed, not even a double entente. to hint a great deal by displaying a little is more vital to effect than the cleverest representation of the whole. the art of partially revealing is more telling, even, than the ars celare artem. who has not suspected through a veil a fairer face than veil ever hid? who has not been delightedly duped by the semi-disclosures of a dress? the principle is just as true in any one branch of art as it is of the attempted developments by one of the suggestions of another. yet who but has thus felt its force? who has not had a shock of day-dream desecration on chancing upon an illustrated edition of some book whose story he had lain to heart? portraits of people, pictures of places, he does not know, and yet which purport to be his! and i venture to believe that to more than one of us the exquisite pathos of the bride of lammermoor is gone when lucia warbles her woes, be it never so entrancingly, to an admiring house. it almost seems as if the garish publicity of using her name for operatic title were a special intervention of the muse, that we might the less connect song with story,--two sensations that, like two lights, destroy one another by mutual interference. against this preference shown the sketch it may be urged that to appreciate such suggestions presupposes as much art in the public as in the painter. but the ability to appreciate a thing when expressed is but half that necessary to express it. some understanding must exist in the observer for any work to be intelligible. it is only a question of degree. the greater the art-sense in the person addressed, the more had better be left to it. now in japan the public is singularly artistic. in fact, the artistic appreciation of the masses there is something astonishing to us, accustomed to our immense intellectual differences between man and man. sketches are thus peculiarly fitting to such a land. besides, there is a quiet modesty about the sketch which is itself taking. to attempt the complete even in a fractional bit of the cosmos, like a picture, has in it a difficulty akin to the logical one of proving a universal negative. the possibilities of failure are enormously increased, and failure is less forgiven for the assumption. art might perhaps not unwisely follow the example of science in such matters where an exhaustive work, which takes the better part of a lifetime to produce, is invariably entitled by its erudite author an elementary treatise on the subject in hand. to aid the effect due to simplicity of conception steps in the far oriental's wonderful technique. his brush-strokes are very few in number, but each one tells. they are laid on with a touch which is little short of marvelous, and requires heredity to explain its skill. for in his method there is no emending, no super-position, no change possible. what he does is done once and for all. the force of it grows on you as you gaze. each stroke expresses surprisingly much, and suggests more. even omissions are made significant. in his painting it is visibly true that objects can be rendered conspicuous by their very absence. you are quite sure you see what on scrutiny you discover to be only the illusion of inevitable inference. the far oriental artist understands the power of suggestion well; for imagination always fills in the picture better than the brush, however perfect be its skill. even the neglect of certain general principles which we consider vital to effect, such as the absence of shadows and the lack of perspective, proves not to be of the importance we imagine. we discover in these paintings how immaterial, artistically, was peter schlimmel's sad loss, and how perfectly possible it is to make bits of discontinuous distance take the place effectively of continuous space. far eastern pictures are epigrams rather than descriptions. they present a bit of nature with the terseness of a maxim of la rochefoucault, and they delight as aphorisms do by their insight and the happy conciseness of its expression. few aphorisms are absolutely true, but then boldness more than makes up for what they lack in verity. so complex a subject is life that to state a truth with all its accompanying limitations is to weaken it at once. exceptions, while demonstrating the rule, do not tend to emphasize it. and though the whole truth is essential to science, such exhaustiveness is by no means a canon of art. parallels are not wanting at home. what they do with space in their paintings do we not with time in the case of our comedies, those acted pictures of life? should we not refuse to tolerate a play that insisted on furnishing us with a full perspective of its characters' past? and yet of the two, it is far perferable, artistically, to be given too much in sequence than too much at once. the chinese, who put much less into a painting than what we deem indispensable, delight in dramas that last six weeks. to give a concluding touch of life to my necessarily skeleton-like generalities, memory pictures me a certain painting of okio's which i fell in love with at first sight. it is of a sunrise on the coast of japan. a long line of surf is seen tumbling in to you from out a bank of mist, just piercing which shows the blood-red disk of the rising sun, while over the narrow strip of breaking rollers three cranes are slowly sailing north. and that is all you see. you do not see the shore; you do not see the main; you are looking but at the border-land of that great unknown, the heaving ocean still slumbering beneath its chilly coverlid of mist, out of which come the breakers, and the sun, and the cranes. so much for the more serious side of japanese fancy; a look at the lighter leads to the same conclusion. hand in hand with his keen poetic sensibility goes a vivid sense of humor,--two traits that commonly, indeed, are found maying together over the meadows of imagination. for, as it might be put, "the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers is also the first to be touched by the fun." the far oriental well exemplifies this fact. his art, wherever fun is possible, fairly bubbles over with laughter. from the oldest masters down to hokusai, it is constantly welling up in the drollest conceits. it is of all descriptions, too. now it lurks in merry ambush, like the faint suggestion of a smile on an otherwise serious face, so subtile that the observer is left wondering whether the artist could have meant what seems more like one's own ingenious discovery; now it breaks out into the broadest of grins, absurd juxtapositions of singularly happy incongruities. for hokusai's caricatures and hendschel's sketches might be twins. if there is a difference, it lies not so much in the artist's work as in the greater generality of its appreciation. humor flits easily there at the sea-level of the multitude. for the japanese temperament is ever on the verge of a smile which breaks out with catching naivete at the first provocation. the language abounds in puns which are not suffered to lie idle, and even poetry often hinges on certain consecrated plays on words. from the very constitution of the people there is of course nothing selfish in the national enjoyment. a man is quite as ready to laugh at his own expense as at his neighbor's, a courtesy which his neighbor cordially returns. now the ludicrous is essentially human in its application. the principle of the synthesis of contradictories, popularly known by the name of humor, is necessarily limited in its field to man. for whether it have to do wholly with actions, or partly with the words that express them, whether it be presented in the shape of a pun or a pleasantry, it is in incongruous contrasts that its virtue lies. it is the unexpected that provokes the smile. now no such incongruity exists in nature; man enjoys a monopoly of the power of making himself ridiculous. so pleasant is pleasantry that we do indeed cultivate it beyond its proper pale. but it is only by personifying nature, and gratuitously attributing to her errors of which she is incapable, that we can make fun of her; as, for instance, when we hold the weather up to ridicule by way of impotent revenge. but satires upon the clown-like character of our climate, which, after the lamest sort of a spring, somehow manages a capital fall, would in the far east be as out of keeping with fancy as with fact. to a japanese, who never personifies anything, such innocent irony is unmeaning. besides, it would be also untrue. for his may carries no suggestion of unfulfilment in its name. those far eastern paintings which have to do with man fall for the most part under one of two heads, the facetious and the historical. the latter implies no particularly intimate concern for man in himself, for the past has very little personality for the present. as for the former, its attention is, if anything, derogatory to him, for we are always shy of making fun of what we feel to be too closely a part of ourselves. but impersonality has prevented the far oriental from having much amour propre. he has no particular aversion to caricaturing himself. few europeans, perhaps, would have cared to perpetrate a self-portrait like one painted by the potter kinsei, which was sold me one day as an amusing tour de force by a facetious picture-dealer. it is a composite picture of a new kind, a japanese variety of type face. the great potter, who was also apparently no mean painter, has combined three aspects of himself in a single representation. at first sight the portrait appears to be simply a full front view of a somewhat moon-faced citizen; but as you continue to gaze, it suddenly dawns on you that there are two other individuals, one on either side, hob-nobbing in profile with the first, the lines of the features being ingeniously made to do double duty; and when this aspect of the thing has once struck you, you cannot look at the picture without seeing all three citizens simultaneously. the result is doubtless more effective as a composition than flattering as a likeness. far eastern sculpture, by its secondary importance among far eastern arts, witnesses again to the secondary importance assigned to man at our mental antipodes. in this art, owing to its necessary limitations, the representation of nature in its broader sense is impossible. for in the first place, whatever the subject, it must be such as it is possible to present in one continuous piece; disconnected adjuncts, as, for instance, a flock of birds flying, which might be introduced with great effect in painting, being here practically beyond the artist's reach. secondly, the material being of uniform appearance, as a rule, color, or even shading, vital points in landscape portrayal, is out of the question, unless the piece were subsequently painted, as in grecian sculptures, a custom which is not practised in china or japan. lastly, another fact fatal to the representation of landscape is the size. the reduced scale of the reproduction suggests falsity at once, a falsity whose belittlement the mind can neither forget nor forgive. plain sculpture is therefore practically limited to statuary, either of men or animals. the result is that in their art, where landscape counts for so much, sculpture plays a very minor part. in what little there is, nature's place is taken by buddha. for there are two classes of statues, divided the one from the other by that step which separates the sublime from the ridiculous, namely, the colossal and the diminutive. there is no happy human mean. of the first kind are the beautiful bronze figures of the buddha, like the kamakura buddha, fifty feet high and ninety-seven feet round, in whose face all that is grand and noble lies sleeping, the living representation of nirvana; and of the second, those odd little ornaments known as netsuke, comical carvings for the most part, grotesque figures of men and monkeys, saints and sinners, gods and devils. appealing bits of ivory, bone, or wood they are, in which the dumb animals are as speaking likenesses as their human fellows. the other arts show the same motif in their decorations. pottery and lacquer alike witness the respective positions assigned to the serious and the comic in far eastern feeling. the far oriental makes fun of man and makes love to nature; and it almost seems as if nature heard his silent prayer, and smiled upon him in acceptance; as if the love-light lent her face the added beauty that it lends the maid's. for nowhere in this world, probably, is she lovelier than in japan: a climate of long, happy means and short extremes, months of spring and months of autumn, with but a few weeks of winter in between; a land of flowers, where the lotus and the cherry, the plum and wistaria, grow wantonly side by side; a land where the bamboo embosoms the maple, where the pine at last has found its palm-tree, and the tropic and the temperate zones forget their separate identity in one long self-obliterating kiss. chapter . religion. in regard to their religion, nations, like individuals, seem singularly averse to practising what they have preached. whether it be that his self-constructed idols prove to the maker too suggestive of his own intellectual chisel to deceive him for long, or whether sacred soil, like less hallowed ground, becomes after a time incapable of responding to repeated sowings of the same seed, certain it is that in spiritual matters most peoples have grown out of conceit with their own conceptions. an individual may cling with a certain sentiment to the religion of his mother, but nations have shown anything but a foolish fondness for the sacred superstitions of their great-grandfathers. to the charm of creation succeeds invariably the bitter-sweet after-taste of criticism, and man would not be the progressive animal he is if he long remained in love with his own productions. what his future will be is too engrossing a subject, and one too deeply shrouded in mystery, not to be constantly pictured anew. no wonder that the consideration at that country toward which mankind is ever being hastened should prove as absorbing to fancy as contemplated earthly journeys proverbially are. few people but have laid out skeleton tours through its ideal regions, and perhaps, as in the mapping beforehand of merely mundane travels, one element of attraction has always consisted in the possible revision of one's routes. besides, there is a fascination about the foreign merely because it is such. distance lends enchantment to the views of others, and never more so than when those views are religious visions. an enthusiast has certainly a greater chance of being taken for a god among a people who do not know him intimately as a man. so with his doctrines. the imported is apt to seem more important than the home-made; as the far-off bewitches more easily than the near. but just as castles in the air do not commonly become the property of their builders, so mansions in the skies almost as frequently have failed of direct inheritance. rather strikingly has this proved the case with what are to-day the two most powerful religions of the world,--buddhism and christianity. neither is now the belief of its founder's people. what was aryan-born has become turanian-bred, and what was semitic by conception is at present aryan by adoption. the possibilities of another's hereafter look so much rosier than the limitations of one's own present! few pastimes are more delightful than tossing pebbles into some still, dark pool, and watching the ripples that rise responsive, as they run in ever widening circles to the shore. most of us have felt its fascination second only to that of the dotted spiral of the skipping-stone, a fascination not outgrown with years. there is something singularly attractive in the subtle force that for a moment sways each particle only to pass on to the next, a motion mysterious in its immateriality. some such pleasure must be theirs who have thrown their thoughts into the hearts of men, and seen them spread in waves of feeling, whose sphere time widens through the world. for like the mobile water is the mind of man,--quick to catch emotions, quick to transmit them. of all waves of feeling, this is not the least true of religious ones, that, starting from their birthplace, pass out to stir others, who have but humanity in common with those who professed them first. like the ripples in the pool, they leave their initial converts to sink back again into comparative quiescence, as they advance to throw into sudden tremors hordes of outer barbarians. in both of the great religions in question this wave propagation has been most marked, only the direction it took differed. christianity went westward; buddhism travelled east. proselytes in asia minor, greece, and italy find counterparts in eastern india, burmah, and thibet. eventually the taught surpassed their teachers both in zeal and numbers. jerusalem and benares at last gave place to rome and lassa as sacerdotal centres. still the movement journeyed on. popes and lhamas remained where their predecessors had founded sees, but the tide of belief surged past them in its irresistible advance. farther yet from where each faith began are to be found to-day the greater part of its adherents. the home that the western hemisphere seems to promise to the one, the extreme orient affords the other. as roman catholicism now looks to america for its strength, so buddhism to-day finds its worshippers chiefly in china and japan. but though the japanese may be said to be all buddhists, buddhist is by no means all that they are. at the time of their adoption of the great indian faith, the japanese were already in possession of a system of superstition which has held its own to this day. in fact, as the state religion of the land, it has just experienced a revival, a regalvanizing of its old-time energy, at the hands of some of the native archaeologists. its sacred mirror, held up to nature, has been burnished anew. formerly this body of belief was the national faith, the mikado, the direct descendant of the early gods, being its head on earth. his reinstatement to temporal power formed a very fitting first step toward reinvesting the cult with its former prestige; a curious instance, indeed, of a religious revival due to archaeological, not to religious zeal. this cult is the mythological inheritance of the whole eastern seaboard of asia, from siam to kamtchatka. in japan it is called shintoism. the word "shinto" means literally "the way of the gods," and the letter of its name is a true exponent of the spirit of the belief. for its scriptures are rather an itinerary of the gods' lives than a guide to that road by which man himself may attain to immortality. thus with a certain fitness pilgrimages are its most noticeable rites. one cannot journey anywhere in the heart of japan without meeting multitudes of these pilgrims, with their neat white leggings and their mushroom-like hats, nor rest at night at any inn that is not hung with countless little banners of the pilgrim associations, of which they all are members. being a pilgrim there is equivalent to being a tourist here, only that to the excitement of doing the country is added a sustaining sense of the meritoriousness of the deed. oftener than not the objective point of the devout is the summit of some noted mountain. for peaks are peculiarly sacred spots in the shinto faith. the fact is perhaps an expression of man's instinctive desire to rise, as if the bodily act in some wise betokened the mental action. the shrine in so exalted a position is of the simplest: a rude hut, with or without the only distinctive emblems of the cult, a mirror typical of the god and the pendent gohei, or zigzag strips of paper, permanent votive offerings of man. as for the belief itself, it is but the deification of those natural elements which aboriginal man instinctively wonders at or fears, the sun, the moon, the thunder, the lightning, and the wind; all, in short, that he sees, hears, and feels, yet cannot comprehend. he clothes his terrors with forms which resemble the human, because he can conceive of nothing else that could cause the unexpected. but the awful shapes he conjures up have naught in common with himself. they are far too fearful to be followed. their way is the "highway of the gods," but no jacob's ladder for wayward man. in this externality to the human lies the reason that shintoism and buddhism can agree so well, and can both join with confucianism in helping to form that happy family of faith which is so singular a feature of far eastern religious capability. it is not simply that the two contrive to live peaceably together; they are actually both of them implicitly believed by the same individual. millions of japanese are good buddhists and good shintoists at the same time. that such a combination should be possible is due to the essential difference in the character of the two beliefs. the one is extrinsic, the other intrinsic, in its relations to the human soul. shintoism tells man but little about himself and his hereafter; buddhism, little but about himself and what he may become. in examining far eastern religion, therefore, for personality, or the reverse, we may dismiss shintoism as having no particular bearing upon the subject. the only effect it has is indirect in furthering the natural propensity of these people to an adoration of nature. in korea and in china, again, confucianism is the great moral law, as by reflection it is to a certain extent in japan. but that in its turn may be omitted in the present argument; inasmuch as confucius taught confessedly and designedly only a system of morals, and religiously abstained from pronouncing any opinion whatever upon the character or the career of the human soul. taouism, the third great religion of china, resembles shintoism to this extent, that it is a body of superstition, and not a form of philosophy. it undertakes to provide nostrums for spiritual ills, but is dumb as to the constitution of the soul for which it professes to prescribe. its pills are to be swallowed unquestioningly by the patient, and are warranted to cure; and owing to the two great human frailties, fear and credulity, its practice is very large. possessing, however, no philosophic diploma, it is without the pale of the present discussion. the demon-worship of korea is a mild form of the same thing with the hierarchy left out, every man there being his own spiritual adviser. an ordinary korean is born with an innate belief in malevolent spirits, whom he accordingly propitiates from time to time. one of nobler birth propitiates only the spirits of his own ancestors. we come, then, by a process of elimination to a consideration of buddhism, the great philosophic faith of the whole far east. not uncommonly in the courtyard of a japanese temple, in the solemn half-light of the sombre firs, there stands a large stone basin, cut from a single block, and filled to the brim with water. the trees, the basin, and a few stone lanterns--so called from their form, and not their function, for they have votive pebbles where we should look for wicks--are the sole occupants of the place. sheltered from the wind, withdrawn from sound, and only piously approached by man, this antechamber of the god seems the very abode of silence and rest. it might be nirvana itself, human entrance to an immortality like the god's within, so peaceful, so pervasive is its calm; and in its midst is the moss-covered monolith, holding in its embrace the little imprisoned pool of water. so still is the spot and so clear the liquid that you know the one only as the reflection of the other. mirrored in its glassy surface appears everything around it. as you peer in, far down you see a tiny bit of sky, as deep as the blue is high above, across which slowly sail the passing clouds; then nearer stand the trees, arching overhead, as if bending to catch glimpses of themselves in that other world below; and then, nearer yet--yourself. emblem of the spirit of man is this little pool to far oriental eyes. subtile as the soul is the incomprehensible water; so responsive to light that it remains itself invisible; so clear that it seems illusion! though portrayer so perfect of forms about it, all we know of the thing itself is that it is. through none of the five senses do we perceive it. neither sight, nor hearing, nor taste, nor smell, nor touch can tell us it exists; we feel it to be by the muscular sense alone, that blind and dumb analogue for the body of what consciousness is for the soul. only when disturbed, troubled, does the water itself become visible, and then it is but the surface that we see. so to the far oriental this still little lake typifies the soul, the eventual purification of his own; a something lost in reflection, self-effaced, only the alter ego of the outer world. for contemplation, not action, is the far oriental's ideal of life. the repose of self-adjustment like that to which our whole solar system is slowly tending as its death,--this to him appears, though from no scientific deduction, the end of all existence. so he sits and ponders, abstractly, vaguely, upon everything in general,--synonym, alas, to man's finite mind, for nothing in particular,--till even the sense of self seems to vanish, and through the mist-like portal of unconsciousness he floats out into the vast indistinguishable sameness of nirvana's sea. at first sight buddhism is much more like christianity than those of us who stay at home and speculate upon it commonly appreciate. as a system of philosophy it sounds exceedingly foreign, but it looks unexpectedly familiar as a faith. indeed, the one religion might well pass for the counterfeit presentment of the other. the resemblance so struck the early catholic missionaries that they felt obliged to explain the remarkable similarity between the two. with them ingenuous surprise instantly begot ingenious sophistry. externally, the likeness was so exact that at first they could not bring themselves to believe that the buddhist ceremonials had not been filched bodily from the practices of the true faith. finding, however, that no known human agency had acted in the matter, they bethought them of introducing, to account for things, a deus ex machina in the shape of the devil. they were so pleased with this solution of the difficulty that they imparted it at once with much pride to the natives. you have indeed got, they graciously if somewhat gratuitously informed them, the outward semblance of the true faith, but you are in fact the miserable victims of an impious fraud. satan has stolen the insignia of divinity, and is now masquerading before you as the deity; your god is really our devil,--a recognition of antipodal inversion truly worthy the jesuitical mind! perhaps it is not matter for great surprise that they converted but few of their hearers. the suggestion was hardly so diplomatic as might have been expected from so generally astute a body; for it could not make much difference what the all-presiding deity was called, if his actions were the same, since his motives were beyond human observation. besides, the bare idea of a foreign bogus was not very terrifying. the chinese possessed too many familiar devils of their own. but there was another and a much deeper reason, which we shall come to later, why christianity made but little headway in the far east. but it is by no means in externals only that the two religions are alike. if the first glance at them awakens that peculiar sensation which most of us have felt at some time or other, a sense of having seen all this before, further scrutiny reveals a deeper agreement than merely in appearances. in passing from the surface into the substance, it may be mentioned incidentally that the codes of morality of the two are about on a level. i say incidentally, for so far as its practice, certainly, is concerned, it not its preaching, morality has no more intimate connection with religion than it has with art or politics. if we doubt this, we have but to examine the facts. are the most religious peoples the most moral? it needs no prolonged investigation to convince us that they are not. if proof of the want of a bond were required, the matter of truth-telling might be adduced in point. as this is a subject upon which a slight misconception exists in the minds of some evangelically persuaded persons, and because, what is more generally relevant, the presence of this quality, honesty in word and deed, has more than almost any other one characteristic helped to put us in the van of the world's advance to-day, it may not unfittingly be cited here. the argument in the case may be put thus. have specially religious races been proportionally truth-telling ones? if not, has there been any other cause at work in the development of mankind tending to increase veracity? the answer to the first question has all the simplicity of a plain negative. no such pleasing concomitance of characteristics is observable to-day, or has been presented in the past. permitting, however, the dead past to bury its shortcomings in oblivion, let us look at the world as we find it. we observe, then, that the religious spirit is quite as strong in asia as it is in europe; if anything, that at the present time it is rather stronger. the average brahman, mahometan, or buddhist is quite as devout as the ordinary roman catholic or presbyterian. if he is somewhat less given to propagandism, he is not a whit less regardful of his own salvation. yet throughout the orient truth is a thing unknown, lies of courtesy being de rigueur and lies of convenience de raison; while with us, fortunately, mendacity is generally discredited. but we need not travel so far for proof. the same is evident in less antipodal relations. have the least religious nations of europe been any less truthful than the most bigoted? was fanatic spain remarkable for veracity? was loyola a gentleman whose assertions carried conviction other than to the stake? were the eminently mundane burghers whom he persecuted noted for a pious superiority to fact? or, to narrow the field still further, and scan the circle of one's own acquaintance, are the most believing individuals among them worthy of the most belief? assuredly not. we come, then, to the second point. has there been any influence at work to differentiate us in this respect from far orientals? there has. two separate causes, in fact, have conduced to the same result. the one is the development of physical science; the other, the extension of trade. the sole object of science being to discover truth, truth-telling is a necessity of its existence. professionally, scientists are obliged to be truthful. aliter of a jesuit. so long as science was of the closet, its influence upon mankind generally was indirect and slight; but so soon as it proceeded to stalk into the street and earn its own living, its veracious character began to tell. when out of its theories sprang inventions and discoveries that revolutionized every-day affairs and changed the very face of things, society insensibly caught its spirit. man awoke to the inestimable value of exactness. from scientists proper, the spirit filtered down through every stratum of education, till to-day the average man is born exact to a degree which his forefathers never dreamed of becoming. to-day, as a rule, the more intelligent the individual, the more truthful he is, because the more innately exact in thought, and thence in word and action. with us, to lie is a sign of a want of cleverness, not of an excess of it. the second cause, the extension of trade, has inculcated the same regard for veracity through the pocket. for with the increase of business transactions in both time and space, the telling of the truth has become a financial necessity. without it, trade would come to a standstill at once. our whole mercantile system, a modern piece of mechanism unknown to the east till we imported it thither, turns on an implicit belief in the word of one's neighbor. our legal safeguards would snap like red tape were the great bond of mutual trust once broken. western civilization has to be truthful, or perish. and now for the spirits of the two beliefs. the soul of any religion realizes in one respect the brahman idea of the individual soul of man, namely, that it exists much after the manner of an onion, in many concentric envelopes. man, they tell us, is composed not of a single body simply, but of several layers of body, each shell as it were respectively inclosing another. the outermost is the merely material body, of which we are so directly cognizant. this encases a second, more spiritual, but yet not wholly free from earthly affinities. this contains another, still more refined; till finally, inside of all is that immaterial something which they conceive to constitute the soul. this eventual residuum exemplifies the franciscan notion of pure substance, for it is a thing delightfully devoid of any attributes whatever. we may, perhaps, not be aware of the existence of such an elaborate set of encasings to our own heart of hearts, nor of a something so very indefinite within, but the most casual glance at any religion will reveal its truth as regards the soul of a belief. we recognize the fact outwardly in the buildings erected to celebrate its worship. not among the jews alone was the holy of holies kept veiled, to temper the divine radiance to man's benighted understanding. nor is the chancel-rail of christianity the sole survivor of the more exclusive barriers of olden times, even in the western world. in the far east, where difficulty of access is deemed indispensable to dignity, the material approaches are still manifold and imposing. court within court, building after building, isolate the shrine itself from the profane familiarity of the passers-by. but though the material encasings vary in number and in exclusiveness, according to the temperament of the particular race concerned, the mental envelopes exist, and must exist, in both hemispheres alike, so long as society resembles the crust of the earth on which it dwells,--a crust composed of strata that grow denser as one descends. what is clear to those on top seems obscure to those below; what are weighty arguments to the second have no force at all upon the first. there must necessarily be grades of elevation in individual beliefs, suited to the needs and cravings of each individual soul. a creed that fills the shallow with satisfaction leaves but an aching void in the deep. it is not of the slightest consequence how the belief starts; differentiated it is bound to become. the higher minds alone can rest content with abstract imaginings; the lower must have concrete realities on which to pin their faith. with them, inevitably, ideals degenerate into idols. in all religions this unavoidable debasement has taken place. the roman catholic who prays to a wooden image of christ is not one whit less idolatrous than the buddhist who worships a bronze statue of amida butzu. all that the common people are capable of seeing is the soul-envelope, for the soul itself they are unable to appreciate. spiritually they are undiscerning, because imaginatively they are blind. now the grosser soul-envelopes of the two great european and asiatic faiths, though differing in detail, are in general parallel in structure. each boasts its full complement of saints, whose congruent catalogues are equally wearisome in length. each tells its circle of beads to help it keep count of similarly endless prayers. for in both, in the popular estimation, quantity is more effective to salvation than quality. in both the believer practically pictures his heaven for himself, while in each his hell, with a vividness that does like credit to its religious imagination, is painted for him by those of the cult who are themselves confident of escaping it. into the lap of each mother church the pious believer drops his little votive offering with the same affectionate zeal, and in asia, as in europe, the mites of the many make the might of the mass. but behind all this is the religion of the few,--of those to whom sensuous forms cannot suffice to represent super-sensuous cravings; whose god is something more than an anthropomorphic creation; to whom worship means not the cramping of the body, but the expansion of the soul. the rays of the truth, like the rays of the sun, which universally seems to have been man's first adoration, have two properties equally inherent in their essence, warmth and light. and as for the life of all things on this globe both attributes of sunshine are necessary, so to the development of that something which constitutes the ego both qualities of the truth are vital. we sometimes speak of character as if it were a thing wholly apart from mind; but, in fact, the two things are so interwoven that to perceive the right course is the strongest possible of incentives to pursue it. in the end the two are one. now, while clearness of head is all-important, kindness of heart is none the less so. the first, perhaps, is more needed in our communings with ourselves, the second in our commerce with others. for, dark and dense bodies that we are, we can radiate affection much more effectively than we can reflect views. that christianity is a religion of love needs no mention; that buddhism is equally such is perhaps not so generally appreciated. but just as the gospel of the disciple who loved and was loved the most begins its story by telling us of the light that came into the world, so none the less surely could the light of asia but be also its warmth. half of the teachings of buddhism are spent in inculcating charity. not only to men is man enjoined to show kindliness, but to all other animals as well. the people practise what their scriptures preach. the effect indirectly on the condition of the brutes is almost as marked as its more direct effect on the character of mankind. in heart, at least, buddhism and christianity are very close. but here the two paths to a something beyond an earthly life diverge. up to this point the two religions are alike, but from this point on they are so utterly unlike that the very similarity of all that went before only suffices to make of the second the weird, life-counterfeiting shadow of the first. as in a silhouette, externally the contours are all there, but within is one vast blank. in relation to one's neighbor the two beliefs are kin, but as regards one's self, as far apart as the west is from the east. for here, at this idea of self, we are suddenly aware of standing on the brink of a fathomless abyss, gazing giddily down into that great gulf which divides buddhism from christianity. we cannot see the bottom. it is a separation more profound than death; it seems to necessitate annihilation. to cross it we must bury in its depths all we know as ourselves. christianity is a personal religion; buddhism, an impersonal one. in this fundamental difference lies the world-wide opposition of the two beliefs. christianity tells us to purify ourselves that we may enjoy countless aeons of that bettered self hereafter; buddhism would have us purify ourselves that we may lose all sense of self for evermore. for all that it preaches the essential vileness of the natural man, christianity is a gospel of optimism. while it affirms that at present you are bad, it also affirms that this depravity is no intrinsic part of yourself. it unquestioningly asserts that it is something foreign to your true being. it even believes that in a more or less spiritual manner your very body will survive. it essentially clings to the ego. what it inculcates is really present endeavor sanctioned by the prospect of future bliss. it tacitly takes for granted the desirability of personal existence, and promises the certainty of personal immortality,--a terror to evildoers, and a sustaining sense of coming unalloyed happiness to the good. through and through its teachings runs the feeling of the fullness of life, that desire which will not die, that wish of the soul which beats its wings against its earthly casement in its longing for expansion beyond the narrow confines of threescore years and ten. buddhism, on the contrary, is the cri du coeur of pessimism. this life, it says, is but a chain of sorrows. to multiply days is only to multiply evil. these desires that urge us on are really cause of all our woe. we think they are ourselves. we are mistaken. they are all illusion, and we are victims of a mirage. this personality, this sense of self, is a cruel deception and a snare. realize once the true soul behind it, devoid of attributes, therefore without this capacity for suffering, an indivisible part of the great impersonal soul of nature: then, and then only, will you have found happiness in the blissful quiescence of nirvana. with a certain poetic fitness, misery and impersonality were both present in the occasion that gave the belief birth. many have turned to the consolations of religion by reason of their own wretchedness; gautama sought its help touched by the woes of others whom, in his own happy life journey, he chanced one day to come across. shocked by the sight of human disease, old age, and death, sad facts to which hitherto he had been sedulously kept a stranger, he renounced the world that he might find for it an escape from its ills. but bliss, as he conceived it, lay not in wanting to be something he was not, but in actual want of being. his quest for mankind was immunity from suffering, not the active enjoyment of life. in this negative way of looking at happiness, he acted in strict conformity with the spirit of his world. for the doctrine of pessimism had already been preached. it underlay the whole brahman philosophy, and everybody believed it implicitly. already the east looked at this life as an evil, and had affirmed for the individual spirit extinction to be happier than existence. the wish for an end to the ego, the hope to be eventually nothing, gautama accepted for a truism as undeniably as the brahmans did. what he pronounced false was the brahman prospectus of the way to reach this desirable impersonal state. their road, be said, could not possibly land the traveller where it professed, since it began wrong, and ended nowhere. the way, he asserted, is within a man. he has but to realize the truth, and from that moment he will see his goal and the road that leads there. there is no panacea for human ills, of external application. the brahman homoeopathic treatment of sin is folly. the slaughtering of men and bulls cannot possibly bring life to the soul. to mortify the body for the sins of the flesh is palpably futile, for in desire alone lies all the ill. quench the desire, and the deeds will die of inanition. man himself is sole cause of his own misery. get rid, then, said the buddha, of these passions, these strivings for the sake of self, that hold the true soul a prisoner. they have to do with things which we know are transitory: how can they be immortal themselves? we recognize them as subject to our will; they are, then, not the i. as a man, he taught, becomes conscious that he himself is something distinct from his body, so, if he reflect and ponder, he will come to see that in like manner his appetites, ambitions, hopes, are really extrinsic to the spirit proper. neither heart nor head is truly the man, for he is conscious of something that stands behind both. behind desire, behind even the will, lies the soul, the same for all men, one with the soul of the universe. when he has once realized this eternal truth, the man has entered nirvana. for nirvana is not an absorption of the individual soul into the soul of all things, since the one has always been a part of the other. still less is it utter annihilation. it is simply the recognition of the eternal oneness of the two, back through an everlasting past on through an everlasting future. such is the belief which the japanese adopted, and which they profess to-day. such to them is to be the dawn of death's to-morrow; a blessed impersonal immortality, in which all sense of self, illusion that it is, shall itself have ceased to be; a long dreamless sleep, a beatified rest, which no awakening shall ever disturb. among such a people personal christianity converts but few. they accept our material civilization, but they reject our creeds. to preach a prolongation of life appears to them like preaching an extension of sorrow. at most, christianity succeeds only in making them doubters of what lies beyond this life. but though professing agnosticism while they live, they turn, when the shadows of death's night come on, to the bosom of that faith which teaches that, whatever may have been one's earthly share of happiness, "'tis something better not to be." strange it seems at first that those who have looked so long to the rising sun for inspiration should be they who live only in a sort of lethargy of life, while those who for so many centuries have turned their faces steadily to the fading glory of the sunset should be the ones who have embodied the spirit of progress of the world. perhaps the light, by its very rising, checks the desire to pursue; in its setting it lures one on to follow. though this religion of impersonality is not their child, it is their choice. they embraced it with the rest that india taught them, centuries ago. but though just as eager to learn of us now as of india then, christianity fails to commend itself. this is not due to the fact that the buddhist missionaries came by invitation, and ours do not. nor is it due to any want of personal character in these latter, but simply to an excess of it in their doctrines. for to-day the far east is even more impersonal in its religion than are those from whom that religion originally came. india has returned again to its worship of brahma, which, though impersonal enough, is less so than is the gospel of gautama. for it is passively instead of actively impersonal. buddhism bears to brahmanism something like the relation that protestantism does to roman catholicism. both bishops and brahmans undertake to save all who shall blindly commit themselves to professional guidance, while buddhists and protestants alike believe that a man's salvation must be brought about by the action of the man himself. the result is, that in the matter of individuality the two reformed beliefs are further apart than those against which they severally protested. for by the change the personal became more personal, and the impersonal more impersonal than before. the protestant, from having tamely allowed himself to be led, began to take a lively interest in his own self-improvement; while the buddhist, from a former apathetic acquiescence in the doctrine of the universally illusive, set to work energetically towards self-extinction. curious labor for a mind, that of devoting all its strength to the thinking itself out of existence! not content with being born impersonal, a far oriental is constantly striving to make himself more so. we have seen, then, how in trying to understand these peoples we are brought face to face with impersonality in each of those three expressions of the human soul, speech, thought, yearning. we have looked at them first from a social standpoint. we have seen how singularly little regard is paid the individual from his birth to his death. how he lives his life long the slave of patriarchal customs of so puerile a tendency as to be practically impossible to a people really grown up. how he practises a wholesale system of adoption sufficient of itself to destroy any surviving regard for the ego his other relations might have left. how in his daily life he gives the minimum of thought to the bettering himself in any worldly sense, and the maximum of polite consideration to his neighbor. how, in short, he acts toward himself as much as possible as if he were another, and to that other as if he were himself. then, not content with standing stranger like upon the threshold, we have sought to see the soul of their civilization in its intrinsic manifestations. we have pushed our inquiry, as it were, one step nearer its home. and the same trait that was apparent sociologically has been exposed in this our antipodal phase of psychical research. we have seen how impersonal is his language, the principal medium of communication between one soul and another; how impersonal are the communings of his soul with itself. how the man turns to nature instead of to his fellowman in silent sympathy. and how, when he speculates upon his coming castles in the air, his most roseate desire is to be but an indistinguishable particle of the sunset clouds and vanish invisible as they into the starry stillness of all-embracing space. now what does this strange impersonality betoken? why are these peoples so different from us in this most fundamental of considerations to any people, the consideration of themselves? the answer leads to some interesting conclusions. chapter . imagination. if, as is the case with the moon, the earth, as she travelled round her orbit turned always the same face inward, we might expect to find, between the thoughts of that hemisphere which looked continually to the sun, and those of the other peering eternally out at the stars, some such difference as actually exists between ourselves and our longitudinal antipodes. for our conception of the cosmos is of a sunlit world throbbing with life, while their nirvana finds not unfit expression in the still, cold, fathomless awe of the midnight sky. that we cannot thus directly account for the difference in local coloring serves but to make that difference of more human interest. the dissimilarity between the western and the far eastern attitude of mind has in it something beyond the effect of environment. for it points to the importance of the part which the principle of individuality plays in the great drama daily enacting before our eyes, and which we know as evolution. it shows, as i shall hope to prove, that individuality bears the same relation to the development of mind that the differentiation of species does to the evolution of organic life: that the degree of individualization of a people is the self-recorded measure of its place in the great march of mind. all life, whether organic or inorganic, consists, as we know, in a change from a state of simple homogeneity to one of complex heterogeneity. the process is apparently the same in a nebula or a brachiopod, although much more intricate in the latter. the immediate force which works this change, the life principle of things, is, in the case of organic beings, a subtle something which we call spontaneous variation. what this mysterious impulse may be is beyond our present powers of recognition. as yet, the ultimates of all things lie hidden in the womb of the vast unknown. but just as in the case of a man we can tell what organs are vital, though we are ignorant what the vital spark may be, so in our great cosmical laws we can say in what their power resides, though we know not really what they are. whether mind be but a sublimated form of matter, or, what amounts to the same thing, matter a menial kind of mind, or whether, which seems less likely, it be a something incomparable with substance, of one thing we are sure, the same laws of heredity govern both. in each a like chain of continuity leads from the present to the dim past, a connecting clue which we can follow backward in imagination. now what spontaneous variation is to the material organism, imagination, apparently, is to the mental one. just as spontaneous variation is constantly pushing the animal or the plant to push out, as a vine its tendrils, in all directions, while natural conditions are as constantly exercising over it a sort of unconscious pruning power, so imagination is ever at work urging man's mind out and on, while the sentiment of the community, commonly called common sense, which simply means the point already reached by the average, is as steadily tending to keep it at its own level. the environment helps, in the one case as in the other, to the shaping of the development. purely physical in the first, it is both physical and psychical in the second, the two reacting on each other. but in either case it is only a constraining condition, not the divine impulse itself. precisely, then, as in the organism, this subtle spirit checked in one direction finds a way to advance in another, and produces in consequence among an originally similar set of bodies a gradual separation into species which grow wider with time, so in brain evolution a like force for like reasons tends inevitably to an ever-increasing individualization. now what evidence have we that this analogy holds? let us look at the facts, first as they present themselves subjectively. the instinct of self-preservation, that guardian angel so persistent to appear when needed, owes its summons to another instinct no less strong, which we may call the instinct of individuality; for with the same innate tenacity with which we severally cling to life do we hold to the idea of our own identity. it is not for the philosophic desire of preserving a very small fraction of humanity at large that we take such pains to avoid destruction; it is that we insensibly regard death as threatening to the continuance of the ego, in spite of the theories of a future life which we have so elaborately developed. indeed, the psychical shrinking is really the quintessence of the physical fear. we cleave to the abstract idea closer even than to its concrete embodiment. sooner would we forego this earthly existence than surrender that something we know as self. for sufficient cause we can imagine courting death; we cannot conceive of so much as exchanging our individuality for another's, still less of abandoning it altogether; for gradually a man, as he grows older, comes to regard his body as, after all, separable from himself. it is the soul's covering, rendered indispensable by the climatic conditions of our present existence, one without which we could no longer continue to live here. to forego it does not necessarily negative, so far as we yet know, the possibility of living elsewhere. some more congenial tropic may be the wandering spirit's fate. but to part with the sense of self seems to be like taking an eternal farewell of the soul. the western mind shrinks before the bare idea of such a thought. the clinging to one's own identity, then, is now an instinct, whatever it may originally have been. it is a something we inherited from our ancestors and which we shall transmit more or less modified to our descendants. how far back this consciousness has been felt passes the possibilities of history to determine, since the recording of it necessarily followed the fact. all we know is that its mention is coeval with chronicle, and its origin lost in allegory. the bible, one of the oldest written records in the world, begins with a bit of mythology of a very significant kind. when the jews undertook to trace back their family tree to an idyllic garden of eden, they mentioned as growing there beside the tree of life, another tree called the tree of knowledge. of what character this knowledge was is inferable from the sudden self-consciousness that followed the partaking of it. so that if we please we may attribute directly to eve's indiscretion the many evils of our morbid self-consciousness of the present day. but without indulging in unchivalrous reflections we may draw certain morals from it of both immediate and ultimate applicability. to begin with, it is a most salutary warning to the introspective, and in the second place it is a striking instance of a myth which is not a sun myth; for it is essentially of human regard, an attempt on man's part to explain that most peculiar attribute of his constitution, the all-possessing sense of self. it looks certainly as if he was not over-proud of his person that he should have deemed its recognition occasion for the primal curse, and among early races the person is for a good deal of the personality. what he lamented was not life but the unavoidable exertion necessary to getting his daily bread, for the question whether life were worth while was as futile then as now, and as inconceivable really as -dimensional space. we are then conscious of individuality as a force within ourselves. but our knowledge by no means ends there; for we are aware of it in the case of others as well. about certain people there exists a subtle something which leaves its impress indelibly upon the consciousness of all who come in contact with them. this something is a power, but a power of so indefinable a description that we beg definition by calling it simply the personality of the man. it is not a matter of subsequent reasoning, but of direct perception. we feel it. sometimes it charms us; sometimes it repels. but we can no more be oblivious to it than we can to the temperature of the air. its possessor has but to enter the room, and insensibly we are conscious of a presence. it is as if we had suddenly been placed in the field of a magnetic force. on the other hand there are people who produce no effect upon us whatever. they come and go with a like indifference. they are as unimportant psychically as if they were any other portion of the furniture. they never stir us. we might live with them for fifty years and be hardly able to tell, for any influence upon ourselves, whether they existed or not. they remind us of that neutral drab which certain religious sects assume to show their own irrelevancy to the world. they are often most estimable folk, but they are no more capable of inspiring a strong emotion than the other kind are incapable of doing so. and we say the difference is due to the personality or want of personality of the man. now, in what does this so-called personality consist? not in bodily presence simply, for men quite destitute of it possess the force in question; not in character only, for we often disapprove of a character whose attraction we are powerless to resist; not in intellect alone, for men more rational fail of stirring us as these unconsciously do. in what, then? in life itself; not that modicum of it, indeed, which suffices simply to keep the machine moving, but in the life principle, the power which causes psychical change; which makes the individual something distinct from all other individuals, a being capable of proving sufficient, if need be, unto himself; which shows itself, in short, as individuality. this is not a mere restatement of the case, for individuality is an objective fact capable of being treated by physical science. and as we know much more at present about physical facts than we do of psychological problems, we may be able to arrive the sooner at solution. individuality, personality, and the sense of self are only three different aspects of one and the same thing. they are so many various views of the soul according as we regard it from an intrinsic, an altruistic, or an egoistic standpoint. for by individuality is not meant simply the isolation in a corporeal casing of a small portion of the universal soul of mankind. so far as mind goes, this would not be individuality at all, but the reverse. by individuality we mean that bundle of ideas, thoughts, and daydreams which constitute our separate identity, and by virtue of which we feel each one of us at home within himself. now man in his mind-development is bound to become more and more distinct from his neighbor. we can hardly conceive a progress so uniform as not to necessitate this. it would be contrary to all we know of natural law, besides contradicting daily experience. for each successive generation bears unmistakable testimony to the fact. children of the same parents are never exactly like either their parents or one another, and they often differ amazingly from both. in such instances they revert to type, as we say; but inasmuch as the race is steadily advancing in development, such reversion must resemble that of an estate which has been greatly improved since its previous possession. the appearance of the quality is really the sprouting of a seed whose original germ was in some sense coeval with the beginning of things. this mind-seed takes root in some cases and not in others, according to the soil it finds. and as certain traits develop and others do not, one man turns out very differently from his neighbor. such inevitable distinction implies furthermore that the man shall be sensible of it. consciousness is the necessary attribute of mental action. not only is it the sole way we have of knowing mind; without it there would be no mind to know. not to be conscious of one's self is, mentally speaking, not to be. this complex entity, this little cosmos of a world, the "i," has for its very law of existence self-consciousness, while personality is the effect it produces upon the consciousness of others. but we may push our inquiry a step further, and find in imagination the cause of this strange force. for imagination, or the image-making faculty, may in a certain sense be said to be the creator of the world within. the separate senses furnish it with material, but to it alone is due the building of our castles, on premises of fact or in the air. for there is no impassable gulf between the two. coleridge's distinction that imagination drew possible pictures and fancy impossible ones, is itself, except as a classification, an impossible distinction to draw; for it is only the inconceivable that can never be. all else is purely a matter of relation. we may instance dreams which are usually considered to rank among the most fanciful creations of the mind. who has not in his dreams fallen repeatedly from giddy heights and invariably escaped unhurt? if he had attempted the feat in his waking moments he would assuredly have been dashed to pieces at the bottom. and so we say the thing is impossible. but is it? only under the relative conditions of his mass and the earth's. if the world he happens to inhabit were not its present size, but the size of one of the tinier asteroids, no such disastrous results would follow a chance misstep. he could there walk off precipices when too closely pursued by bears--if i remember rightly the usual childish cause of the same--with perfect impunity. the bear could do likewise, unfortunately. we should have arrived at our conclusion even quicker had we decreased the size both of the man and his world. he would not then have had to tumble actually so far, and would therefore have arrived yet more gently at the foot. this turns out, then, to be a mere question of size. decrease the scale of the picture, and the impossible becomes possible at once. all fancies are not so easily reducible to actual facts as the one we have taken, but all, perhaps, eventually may be explicable in the same general way. at present we certainly cannot affirm that anything may not be thus explained. for the actual is widening its field every day. even in this little world of our own we are daily discovering to be fact what we should have thought fiction, like the sailor's mother the tale of the flying fish. beyond it our ken is widening still more. gulliver's travels may turn out truer than we think. could we traverse the inter-planetary ocean of ether, we might eventually find in jupiter the land of lilliput or in ceres some old-time country of the brobdignagians. for men constituted muscularly like ourselves would have to be proportionately small in the big planet and big in the small one. still stranger things may exist around other suns. in those bright particular stars--which the little girl thought pinholes in the dark canopy of the sky to let the glory beyond shine through--we are finding conditions of existence like yet unlike those we already know. to our groping speculations of the night they almost seem, as we gaze on them in their twinkling, to be winking us a sort of comprehension. conditions may exist there under which our wildest fancies may be commonplace facts. there may be "some xanadu where kublai can a stately pleasure dome decree," and carry out his conceptions to his own disillusionment, perhaps. for if the embodiment of a fancy, however complete, left nothing further to be wished, imagination would have no incentive to work. coleridge's distinction does very well to separate, empirically, certain kinds of imaginative concepts from certain others; but it has no real foundation in fact. nor presumably did he mean it to have. but it serves, not inaptly, as a text to point out an important scientific truth, namely, that there are not two such qualities of the mind, but only one. for otherwise we might have supposed the fact too evident to need mention. imagination is the single source of the new, the one mainspring of psychical advance; reason, like a balance-wheel, only keeping the action regular. for reason is but the touchstone of experience, our own, inherited, or acquired from others. it compares what we imagine with what we know, and gives us answer in terms of the here and the now, which we call the actual. but the actual is really nothing but the local. it does not mark the limits of the possible. that imagination has been the moving spirit of the psychical world is evident, whatever branch of human thought we are pleased to examine. we are in the habit, in common parlance, of making a distinction between the search after truth and the search after beauty, calling the one science and the other art. now while we are not slow to impute imagination to art, we are by no means so ready to appreciate its connection with science. yet contrary, perhaps, to exogeric ideas on the subject, it is science rather than art that demands imagination of her votaries. not that art may not involve the quality to a high degree, but that a high degree of art is quite compatible with a very small amount of imagination. on the one side we may instance painting. now painting begins its career in the humble capacity of copyist, a pretty poor copyist at that. at first so slight was its skill that the rudest symbols sufficed. "this is a man" was conventionally implied by a few scratches bearing a very distant relationship to the real thing. gradually, owing to human vanity and a growing taste, pictures improved. combinations were tried, a bit from one place with a piece from another; a sort of mosaic requiring but a slight amount of imagination. not that imagination of a higher order has not been called into play, although even now pictures are often happy adaptations rather than creations proper. some masters have been imaginative; others, unfortunately for themselves and still more for the public, have not. for that the art may attain a high degree of excellence for itself and much distinction for its professors, without calling in the aid of imagination, is evident enough on this side of the globe, without travelling to the other. take, on the other hand, a branch of science which, to the average layman, seems peculiarly unimaginative, the science of mathematics. yet at the risk of appearing to cast doubts upon the validity of its conclusions, it might be called the most imaginative product of human thought; for it is simply one vast imagination based upon a few so-called axioms, which are nothing more nor less than the results of experience. it is none the less imaginative because its discoveries always accord subsequently with fact, since man was not aware of them beforehand. nor are its inevitable conclusions inevitable to any save those possessed of the mathematician's prophetic sight. once discovered, it requires much less imagination to understand them. with the light coming from in front, it is an easy matter to see what lies behind one. so with other fabrics of human thought, imagination has been spinning and weaving them all. from the most concrete of inventions to the most abstract of conceptions the same force reveals itself upon examination; for there is no gulf between what we call practical and what we consider theoretical. everything abstract is ultimately of practical use, and even the most immediately utilitarian has an abstract principle at its core. we are too prone to regard the present age of the world as preeminently practical, much as a middle-aged man laments the witching fancies of his boyhood. but, and there is more in the parallel than analogy, if the man be truly imaginative he is none the less so at forty-five than he was at twenty, if his imagination have taken on a more critical form; for this latter half of the nineteenth century is perhaps the most imaginative period the world's history has ever known. while with one hand we are contriving means of transit for our ideas, and even our very voices, compared to which puck's girdle is anything but talismanic, with the other we are stretching out to grasp the action of mind on mind, pushing our way into the very realm of mind itself. history tells the same story in detail; for the history of mankind, imperfectly as we know it, discloses the fact that imagination, and not the power of observation nor the kindred capability of perception, has been the cause of soul-evolution. the savage is but little of an imaginative being. we are tempted, at times, to imagine him more so than he is, for his fanciful folk-lore. the proof of which overestimation is that we find no difficulty in imagining what he does, and even of imagining what he probably imagined, and finding our suppositions verified by discovery. yet his powers of observation may be marvellously developed. the north american indian tracks his foe through the forest by signs unrecognizable to a white man, and he reasons most astutely upon them, and still that very man turns out to be a mere child when put before problems a trifle out of his beaten path. and all because his forefathers had not the power to imagine something beyond what they actually saw. the very essence of the force of imagination lies in its ability to change a man's habitat for him. without it, man would forever have remained, not a mollusk, to be sure, but an animal simply. a plant cannot change its place, an animal cannot alter its conditions of existence except within very narrow bounds; man is free in the sense nothing else in the world is. what is true of individuals has been true of races. the most imaginative races have proved the greatest factors in the world's advance. now after this look at our own side of the world, let us turn to the other; for it is this very psychological fact that mental progression implies an ever-increasing individualization, and that imagination is the force at work in the process which far eastern civilization, taken in connection with our own, reveals. in doing this, it explains incidentally its own seeming anomalies, the most unaccountable of which, apparently, is its existence. we have seen how impressively impersonal the far east is. now if individuality be the natural measure of the height of civilization which a nation has reached, impersonality should betoken a relatively laggard position in the race. we ought, therefore, to find among these people certain other characteristics corroborative of a less advanced state of development. in the first place, if imagination be the impulse of which increase in individuality is the resulting motion, that quality should be at a minimum there. the far orientals ought to be a particularly unimaginative set of people. such is precisely what they are. their lack of imagination is a well-recognized fact. all who have been brought in contact with them have observed it, merchants as strikingly as students. indeed, the slightest intercourse with them could not fail to make it evident. their matter-of-fact way of looking at things is truly distressing, coming as it does from so artistic a people. one notices it all the more for the shock. to get a prosaic answer from a man whose appearance and surroundings betoken better things is not calculated to dull that answer's effect. aston, in a pamphlet on the altaic tongues, cites an instance which is so much to the point that i venture to repeat it here. he was a true chinaman, he says, who, when his english master asked him what he thought of "that orbed maiden with white fires laden whom mortals call the moon," replied, "my thinkee all same lamp pidgin" (pidgin meaning thing in the mongrel speech, chinese in form and english in diction, which goes by the name of pidgin english). their own tongues show the same prosaic character, picturesque as they appear to us at first sight. that effect is due simply to the novelty to us of their expressions. to talk of a pass as an "up-down" has a refreshing turn to our unused ear, but it is a much more descriptive than imaginative figure of speech. nor is the phrase "the being (so) is difficult," in place of "thank you," a surprisingly beautiful bit of imagery, delightful as it sounds for a change. our own tongue has, in its daily vocabulary, far more suggestive expressions, only familiarity has rendered us callous to their use. we employ at every instant words which, could we but stop to think of them, would strike us as poetic in the ideas they call up. as has been well said, they were once happy thoughts of some bright particular genius bequeathed to posterity without so much as an accompanying name, and which proved so popular that they soon became but symbols themselves. their languages are paralleled by their whole life. a lack of any fanciful ideas is one of the most salient traits of all far eastern races, if indeed a sad dearth of anything can properly be spoken of as salient. indirectly their want of imagination betrays itself in their every-day sayings and doings, and more directly in every branch of thought. originality is not their strong point. their utter ignorance of science shows this, and paradoxical as it may seem, their art, in spite of its merit and its universality, does the same. that art and imagination are necessarily bound together receives no very forcible confirmation from a land where, nationally speaking, at any rate, the first is easily first and the last easily last, as nations go. it is to quite another quality that their artistic excellence must be ascribed. that the chinese and later the japanese have accomplished results at which the rest of the world will yet live to marvel, is due to their--taste. but taste or delicacy of perception has absolutely nothing to do with imagination. that certain of the senses of far orientals are wonderfully keen, as also those parts of the brain that directly respond to them, is beyond question; but such sensitiveness does not in the least involve the less earth-tied portions of the intellect. a peculiar responsiveness to natural beauty, a sort of mental agreement with its earthly environment, is a marked feature of the japanese mind. but appreciation, however intimate, is a very different thing from originality. the one is commonly the handmaid of the other, but the other by no means always accompanies the one. so much for the cause; now for the effect which we might expect to find if our diagnosis be correct. if the evolving force be less active in one race than in another, three relative results should follow. in the first place, the race in question will at any given moment be less advanced than its fellow; secondly, its rate of progress will be less rapid; and lastly, its individual members will all be nearer together, just as a stream, in falling from a cliff, starts one compact mass, then gradually increasing in speed, divides into drops, which, growing finer and finer and farther and farther apart, descend at last as spray. all three of these consequences are visible in the career of the far eastern peoples. the first result scarcely needs to be proved to us, who are only too ready to believe it without proof. it is, nevertheless, a fact. viewed unprejudicedly, their civilization is not so advanced a one as our own. although they are certainly our superiors in some very desirable particulars, their whole scheme is distinctly more aboriginal fundamentally. it is more finished, as far as it goes, but it does not go so far. less rude, it is more rudimentary. indeed, as we have seen, its surface-perfection really shows that nature has given less thought to its substance. one may say of it that it is the adult form of a lower type of mind-specification. the second effect is scarcely less patent. how slow their progress has been, if for centuries now it can be called progress at all, is world-known. chinese conservatism has passed into a proverb. the pendulum of pulsation in the middle kingdom long since came to a stop at the medial point of rest. centre of civilization, as they call themselves, one would imagine that their mind-machinery had got caught on their own dead centre, and now could not be made to move. life, which elsewhere is a condition of unstable equilibrium, there is of a fatally stable kind. for the chinaman's disinclination to progress is something more than vis inertiae; it has become an ardent devotion to the status quo. jostled, he at once settles back to his previous condition again; much as more materially, after a lifetime spent in california, at his death his body is punctiliously embalmed and sent home across five thousand miles of sea for burial. with the japanese the condition of affairs is somewhat different. their tendency to stand still is of a purely passive kind. it is a state of neutral equilibrium, stationary of itself but perfectly responsive to an impulse from without. left to their own devices, they are conservative enough, but they instantly copy a more advanced civilization the moment they get a chance. this proclivity on their part is not out of keeping with our theory. on the contrary, it is precisely what was to have been expected; for we see the very same apparent contradiction in characters we are thrown with every day. imitation is the natural substitute for originality. the less strong a man's personality the more prone is he to adopt the ideas of others, on the same principle that a void more easily admits a foreign body than does space that is already occupied; or as a blank piece of paper takes a dye more brilliantly for not being already tinted itself. the third result, the remarkable homogeneity of the people, is not, perhaps, so universally appreciated, but it is equally evident on inspection, and no less weighty in proof. indeed, the far eastern state of things is a kind of charade on the word; for humanity there is singularly uniform. the distance between the extremes of mind-development in japan is much less than with us. this lack of divergence exists not simply in certain lines of thought, but in all those characteristics by which man is parted from the brutes. in reasoning power, in artistic sensibility, in delicacy of perception, it is the same story. if this were simply the impression at first sight, no deductions could be drawn from it, for an impression of racial similarity invariably marks the first stage of acquaintance of one people by another. even in outward appearance it is so. we find it at first impossible to tell the japanese apart; they find it equally impossible to differentiate us. but the present resemblance is not a matter of first impressions. the fact is patent historically. the men whom japan reveres are much less removed from the common herd than is the case in any western land. and this has been so from the earliest times. shakspeares and newtons have never existed there. japanese humanity is not the soil to grow them. the comparative absence of genius is fully paralleled by the want of its opposite. not only are the paths of preeminence untrodden; the purlieus of brutish ignorance are likewise unfrequented. on neither side of the great medial line is the departure of individuals far or frequent. all men there are more alike;--so much alike, indeed, that the place would seem to offer a sort of forlorn hope for disappointed socialists. although religious missionaries have not met with any marked success among the natives, this less deserving class of enthusiastic disseminators of an all-possessing belief might do well to attempt it. they would find there a very virgin field of a most promisingly dead level. it is true, human opposition would undoubtedly prevent their tilling it, but nature, at least, would not present quite such constitutional obstacles as she wisely does with us. the individual's mind is, as it were, an isolated bit of the race mind. the same set of traits will be found in each. mental characteristics there are a sort of common property, of which a certain undifferentiated portion is indiscriminately allotted to every man at birth. one soul resembles another so much, that in view of the patriarchal system under which they all exist, there seems to the stranger a peculiar appropriateness in so strong a family likeness of mind. an idea of how little one man's brain differs from his neighbor's may be gathered from the fact, that while a common coolie in japan spends his spare time in playing a chess twice as complicated as ours, the most advanced philosopher is still on the blissfully ignorant side of the pons asinorum. we find, then, that in all three points the far east fulfils what our theory demanded. there is one more consideration worthy of notice. we said that the environment had not been the deus ex materia in the matter; but that the soul itself possessed the germ of its own evolution. this fact does not, however, preclude another, that the environment has helped in the process. change of scene is beneficial to others besides invalids. how stimulating to growth a different habitat can prove, when at all favorable, is perhaps sufficiently shown in the case of the marguerite, which, as an emigrant called white-weed, has usurped our fields. the same has been no less true of peoples. now these far eastern peoples, in comparison with our own forefathers, have travelled very little. a race in its travels gains two things: first it acquires directly a great deal from both places and peoples that it meets, and secondly it is constantly put to its own resources in its struggle for existence, and becomes more personal as the outcome of such strife. the changed conditions, the hostile forces it finds, necessitate mental ingenuity to adapt them and influence it unconsciously. to see how potent these influences prove we have but to look at the two great branches of the aryan family, the one that for so long now has stayed at home, and the one that went abroad. destitute of stimulus from without, the indo-aryan mind turned upon itself and consumed in dreamy metaphysics the imagination which has made its cousins the leaders in the world's progress to-day. the inevitable numbness of monotony crept over the stay-at-homes. the deadly sameness of their surroundings produced its unavoidable effect. the torpor of the east, like some paralyzing poison, stole into their souls, and they fell into a drowsy slumber only to dream in the land they had formerly wrested from its possessors. their birthright passed with their cousins into the west. in the case of the altaic races which we are considering, cause and effect mutually strengthened each other. that they did not travel more is due primarily to a lack of enterprise consequent upon a lack of imagination, and then their want of travel told upon their imagination. they were also unfortunate in their journeying. their travels were prematurely brought to an end by that vast geographical nirvana the pacific ocean, the great peaceful sea as they call it themselves. that they would have journeyed further is shown by the way their dreams went eastward still. they themselves could not for the preventing ocean, and the lapping of its waters proved a nation's lullaby. one thing, i think, then, our glance at far eastern civilization has more than suggested. the soul, in its progress through the world, tends inevitably to individualization. yet the more we perceive of the cosmos the more do we recognize an all-pervading unity in it. its soul must be one, not many. the divine power that made all things is not itself multifold. how to reconcile the ever-increasing divergence with an eventual similarity is a problem at present transcending our generalizations. what we know would seem to be opposed to what we must infer. but perception of how we shall merge the personal in the universal, though at present hidden from sight, may sometime come to us, and the seemingly irreconcilable will then turn out to involve no contradiction at all. for this much is certain: grand as is the great conception of buddhism, majestic as is the idea of the stately rest it would lead us to, the road here below is not one the life of the world can follow. if earthly existence be an evil, then buddhism will help us ignore it; but if by an impulse we cannot explain we instinctively crave activity of mind, then the great gospel of gautama touches us not; for to abandon self--egoism, that is, not selfishness is the true vacuum which nature abhors. as for far orientals, they themselves furnish proof against themselves. that impersonality is not man's earthly goal they unwittingly bear witness; for they are not of those who will survive. artistic attractive people that they are, their civilization is like their own tree flowers, beautiful blossoms destined never to bear fruit; for whatever we may conceive the far future of another life to be, the immediate effect of impersonality cannot but be annihilating. if these people continue in their old course, their earthly career is closed. just as surely as morning passes into afternoon, so surely are these races of the far east, if unchanged, destined to disappear before the advancing nations of the west. vanish they will off the face of the earth and leave our planet the eventual possession of the dwellers where the day declines. unless their newly imported ideas really take root, it is from this whole world that japanese and koreans, as well as chinese, will inevitably be excluded. their nirvana is already being realized; already it has wrapped far eastern asia in its winding-sheet, the shroud of those whose day was but a dawn, as if in prophetic keeping with the names they gave their homes,--the land of the day's beginning, and the land of the morning calm. flash-lights from the seven seas william l. stidger [illustration: mt. taishan, china, said to be the oldest worshipping place on earth.] flash-lights from the seven seas by william l. stidger author of "standing room only," "star dust from the dugouts," "outdoor men and minds," etc. with an introduction by bishop francis j. mcconnell illustrated from photographs by the author new york george h. doran company copyright, , by george h. doran company printed in the united states of america dedicated to mary i. scott a woman friend who pushed back the horizons of the world and led me to the beginning of the trail that has no end: the trail of dreams and travel introduction by bishop francis j. mcconnell the rev. william l. stidger is one of the most thoroughly alive men in the ministry today. he sees quickly, reacts instantaneously, and knows how to bring others to a like alertness of mental and spiritual seizure. if it be said of him that he is impressionistic it must be remembered that the impressions are made on a mind of sound purpose and communicated to others for the sake of the truth behind the impression. his narratives of travel do not belong in the guide-book category or in that of the scientific geography. but if you wish to know what it would be like to visit yourself the countries described, the reading of mr. stidger's sketches will help you. if it be said that what one after all is getting is the stidger view, it must not be forgotten that the stidger view is marvellously vital and enkindling. the stidger vitality is bracing and health-giving. it is a tonic for all of us who are getting a little old and sluggish. the contagion of youth and energy are in this book: it will reach and stir all who read. francis j. mcconnell _pittsburgh, pa._ foreword that vast stretch of opal islands; jade continents; sapphire seas of strange sunsets; mysterious masses of brown-skinned humanity; brown-eyed, full-breasted, full-lipped and full-hipped women; which we call the orient, can only be caught by the photographer's art in flash-light pictures. it is like a photograph taken in the night. it cannot be clear cut. it cannot have clean outlines. it can only be a blurred mass of humanity with burdens on their shoulders; humanity bent to the ground; creaking carts; weary-eyed children and women; moving, moving, moving; like phantom shadow-shapes; in and out; one great maze through the majestic ages; one confused history of the ancient past; emerging; but not yet out into the sunlight! such masses of humanity; such dim, uncertain origins of unfathered races; these can only be caught and seen as through a glass darkly. paul hutchinson, my friend, in "the atlantic monthly" says of china what is true of the whole orient: "in this vast stretch of country, with its poor communications, we can only know in part. when one sets out to generalize he does so at his own peril. the only consolation is that it is almost impossible to disprove any statement; for, however fantastical, it is probably in accord with the facts in some part of the land." the facts, fancies, and fallacies of this book are gleaned from the rovings and ramblings of a solid year of over fifty-five thousand miles of travel; through ten separate countries: japan, korea, china, the philippine islands, french indo-china, the malay states, borneo, java, sumatra and the hawaiian islands; across seven seas: the pacific ocean, the sea of japan, the north china sea, the yellow sea, the south china sea, the malacca straits, and the sea of java; after visiting five wild and primitive tribes: the ainu indians of japan, the igorrotes of the philippines, the negritos of the same islands; the dyaks of borneo, and the battaks of sumatra; face to face by night and day with new races, new faces, new problems, new aspirations, new ways of doing things, new ways of living, new evils, new sins, new cruelties, new fears, new degradations; new hopes, new days, new ways, new nations arising; new gods, and a new god! when one comes back from such a trip, having fortified himself with the reading of many books written about these far lands, in addition to his travel, one still has the profound conviction that, after all is said, done, and thought out, the only honest way to picture these vast stretches of land and humanity is to confess that all is in motion; like a great mass of bees in a hive, one on top of the other, busy at buzzing, buying, selling, living, dying, climbing, achieving; groping in the dark; moving upward by an unerring instinct toward the light. at nights i cannot sleep for thinking about that weird, dim, misty panorama of fleeting, flashing pictures; those thousands of javanese that i saw down in sourabaya, who have never known what it means to have a home; who sleep in doorways by night, and along the river banks; where mothers give birth to children, who in turn live and die out under the open sky. nor can i forget that animal-like beggar in canton who dug into a gutter for his food; or those hideous beggars, by winter along the railway in shantung; or the naked one-year-old child covered with sores which a beggar woman in the chinese section of shanghai held to her own naked breast. those pictures and a thousand others abide. one has the feeling that if he could go back, again, and again, and again to these far shores, and live with these peoples and die with them, then he would begin faintly to understand what it all means and where it is all headed. and this author, for one, is honest in saying that, in spite of careful investigation, in spite of extensive travel and a sympathetic heart, he sees but dimly. the very glory of it all, the age of it all, the wonder of it all, the mysterious beauty and thrill of it all; the thrill of these masses of humanity, their infinite possibilities for future greatness; like a great blinding flash of glory, dims one's eyes for a time. but, now, that he has, through quiet meditation and perspective, had a chance to develop the films of thought, he finds that he has brought back home pictures that one ought not to keep to one's self; especially in this day, when, what happens to asia is so largely to determine what happens to america. so, out of the dark room, where they have been developing for a year, and out of the dim shadows of that mysterious land whence they came, they are printed and at the bottom of each picture shall be written the humble words: "flash-lights from the seven seas" william l. stidger. _detroit, michigan._ contents page introduction by bishop francis j. mcconnell vii foreword ix chapter i flash-lights of flame ii flash-lights physical iii flash-lights of faith iv flash-lights of fear v flash-lights of frightfulness vi feminine flash-lights vii flash-lights of fun viii flash-lights of freedom ix flash-lights of failure x flash-lights of friendship illustrations mt. taishan, the oldest worshipping place on earth _frontispiece_ page the walled city of manila beautiful filipino girls korean girls with american ideals and training stepping aside in korea confucius tomb at chufu, china ruin of the ming tombs grinding rice in china a camel train entering peking the temple of heaven, peking a beautiful thirteen-story pagoda near peking a wayside temple and shrine a sunrise silhouette, java old bromo volcano, java a side view of beautiful boroboedoer, java naked and otherwise a dog market flash-lights from the seven seas chapter i flash-lights of flame fire! fire! fire everywhere! fire in the sky, fire on the sea, fire on the ships, fire in the flowers, fire in the trees of the forest; fire in the poinsetta bushes which flash their red flames from every yard and jungle. in the tropical lands flowers do not burst into blossom; they burst into flame. great bushes of flaming poinsetta, as large as american lilac bushes, burst into flame over night in manila. that great tree, as large as an oak, which they call "the flame of the forest," looks like a tree on fire with flowers. one will roam the world over and see nothing more beautiful than this great tree which looks like a massive umbrella of solid flame. every flower in the orient seems to be a crimson flower. the tropical heat of the philippines, java, borneo, sumatra, the malay states and india's far reaches; with beautiful ceylon, and burma; seems to give birth to crimson child-flowers. the sunsets burst into bloom, as well as the flowers. there is no region on earth where sunsets flare into birth and die in a flash-light of glory and beauty like they do in the regions of the south china sea. for months at a stretch, every night, without a break, the most wildly gorgeous, flaming, flaring, flashing crimson sunsets crown the glory of the days. i have been interested in catching pictures of sunsets all over the world. i have caught hundreds of sunsets with the graflex; and other hundreds have i captured with a corona, just as they occurred; and i have never seen a spot on earth where the sunsets were such glorious outbursts of crimson and golden beauty as across the circling shores of manila bay. night after night i have sat in that ancient city and watched these tumultuous, tumbling, turner-like flashes of color. one night the sky was flame from sea to zenith across manila bay. it was like a great flame of the forest tree in full bloom. against this sky of flaming sunset-clouds, hundreds of ships, anchored in the bay, lit their lesser crimson lights; while, now and then, a battleship which was signaling to another ship, flashed its message of light against the fading glow of glory in the crimson sunset. "it is light talking unto light; flash unto flash; crimson unto crimson!" said a friend who sat with me looking out across that beautiful bay. the picture of that flaming sunset, with the great vessels silhouetted against it; with the little lights on the ships, running in parallel rows; and the flashing lights of signals from the masts of the battleship will never die in one's memory. it was a quiet, peaceful scene. but suddenly, like a mighty volcano a burst of flame swept into the air at the mouth of the pasig river. it leapt into the sky and lighted up the entire harbor in a great conflagration. the little ships stood out, silhouetted against that great flaming oil tanker. "it's a ship on fire!" otto exclaimed. "let's go and see it!" i added. then we were off for the mouth of the pasig which was not far away. there we saw the most spectacular fire i have ever seen. a great oil tanker full of cocoanut-oil had burst into flame, trapping thirty men in its awful furnace. its gaunt masts stood out like toppling tree skeletons from a forest fire against the now deepening might; made vivid and livid by the bursting flames that leapt higher and higher with each successive explosion from a tank of gasoline or oil. i got out my graflex and caught several pictures of this flash-light of flame, but none that will be as vivid, as lurid, or as lasting as the flash-light that was etched into the film of my memory. the next flash-light of flame came bursting out of midnight darkness on the island of java. we were bound for old bromo, that giant volcano of java. we had started at midnight and it would take us until daylight to reach the crater-brink of this majestic mountain of fire. white flashes of light, leapt from bromo at frequent intervals all night long as we traveled on ponies through the tropical jungle trail, upward, and onward to the brink of that pit of hell. white flashes of light leapt from bromo at the narrow rail. they called them "night-blooming lilies," and sure enough they blanketed the rugged pathway that night like so many tiny white fairies. indeed there was something beautifully weird in their white wonder against the night. they looked like frail, earth-angels playing in the star-light, sending out a sweet odor which mingled strangely with the odor of sulphur from the volcano. and back of all this was the background of that awful, thundering, rumbling and grumbling volcano as somber as suicide. strangely weird flashes lighted the mountains for miles around. "it looks like heat lightning back at home," said an american. "only the flashes are more vivid!" said another member of the party. those flashes of light from the inner fires of the earth, bursting from the fissures of restless volcano bromo shall ever remain, like some strange glimpse of a new inferno. volcanic merapi, another belching furnace of java, gave me a picture of a flash-light of flame. the night that we stayed up on the old temple of boroboedoer, merapi was unusually active; and now and then its flashes of flame lighted up the whole beautiful valley between the temple and the mountain. at each flash of fire, the tall bamboo and cocoanut trees loomed like graceful javanese women in the midst of far-reaching, green, rice paddies; while two rivers that met below us, wound under that light like two silver threads in the night. once, when an unusually heavy flash came from merapi, we saw below us a beautiful javanese girl clasped in the arms of her brown lover. each seemed to be stark naked as they stood under a cocoanut tree like rodin bronzes. it was this beautiful girl's voice that we later heard singing to her lover a javanese love song in the tropical night. this, i take it, was the flame of love; a flame which lights up the world forever; everywhere her devotees, clothed or naked, are the same; forever and a day; be it on the streets of broadway; along the lanes of the berkshire hills of new england; up the rugged trails of the sierras; or along the quiet, tree-lined streets of an american village. it is a flame; this business of love; a flame which, flashing by day and night, lights the world to a new glory. * * * * * one night the missionaries in korea saw flames bursting out against the hills. "what is it?" they cried, filled with fear. "the japanese are burning the korean villages!" said one who knew. all night long the villages burned and all night long the people were murdered. runners brought news to the hillsides of seoul where anxious, broken-hearted american missionaries waited. "one, two, three, four, five; ten, fifteen, twenty; thirty, forty, fifty; a hundred, two hundred, three hundred; villages are burning," so came the messages. the entire peninsula was lighted as with a great holocaust. it is said that the light could be seen from fusan itself, a hundred miles away. "from our village it looked like a light over a great american steel-mill city," said a missionary to me. and when the morning came, the flames were still leaping high against the crimson sky of dawn. for days this burning of villages continued. belgium never saw more ruthless flame and fire; set by sterner souls; or harder hearts! that was two years ago. the villages are charred ruins now. some of them have never been rebuilt. the murdered people of these villages have gone back to dust. the japanese think that the fires are out. they thought, when the flames of those burning villages ceased leaping into the skies; and at last were but smouldering embers; that the flames had died. but the japanese were wrong, for on that very day, the flames of freedom began to burn in korean hearts and souls! and from that day to this; those flames have been rising higher and higher. these are flash-lights of flame that, as the years go by; mount, like beacon lights of hope on korean hills, to light the marching dawn of korean independence. * * * * * a beautiful korean custom that used to be; flashes a flame of fire across the screen of history. in the old days the korean emperor used to have signals of fire flashed from hill to hill running clear from the chinese border to seoul, the korean capital. this signal indicated that all was well along the borders and that there was no danger of a chinese invasion from the north. korea has always been a bone of contention between china, russia and japan. consequently this little peninsula has always walked on uneasy paths, which is ever the fate of a buffer state. never did a korean emperor go to sleep in peace until he looked out and saw that the signal fires burned on the beautiful mountain peaks surrounding the city of seoul; fires indicating that the borders were safe that night and that inmates of the palace might rest in peace and security. "it must have been a beautiful sight to have seen the light flashing on the mountain peak there to the north," i said to an eighty-year old korean patriarch. "it meant peace for the night," he answered. "it was beautiful. i often long to see those fires of old burning again on yonder mountain." he said this with a dramatic wave of his stately white robed arm. "the sunsets still flame from that western mountain peak, overlooking your city beautiful!" i said with a smile. "yes, the sunsets still flame behind that peak," he responded with a far-away look in his aged eyes. "perhaps the good christian god is lighting the fires for you?" i suggested. "yes, he, the good christian god; is still lighting the fires for us; but they are fires of freedom, fires of hope, and fires of democracy!" the old man said with a new light in his own flashing eyes. "and fires of peace," i added. "yes, fires of peace when freedom comes!" he responded. but whatever the political implications are; it is historically true that this old custom had existed for years until the japanese took possession of korea and stopped this beautiful tradition. but behind that same mountain from which the bonfires used to flash in the olden days; indicating that the frontiers were safe for the night; that no enemy hosts were invading the peninsula; behind that mountain the fires of sunset still flame, flash, flare, and die away in the somber purple shadows of night. * * * * * nor shall one forget an evening at wanju; a hundred miles from seoul; sitting in the mission house looking down into that village of a hundred thousand souls; watching the fires of evening lighted; watching a blanket of gray-blue smoke slowly lift over that little village; watching the great round moon slowly rise above a jutting peak beyond the village to smile down on that quiet, peaceful scene in mid-december. koreans never light their fires until evening comes and then they light a fire at one end of the house, under the floor and the smoke and heat travel the entire length of the house warming the rooms. it is a poor heat maker but it is a picturesque custom. thousands of flames lighted up the sky that night. the little thatch houses, and the children in their quaint garbs moving against the flames composed a strange oriental rembrandt picture. * * * * * streets! streets! streets! lights! lights! lights! somehow streets and lights go together. we think of our great broadway. we smile at our superior ingenuity when we think of the "great white way." but for sheer beauty; fascinating, captivating, alluring, beauty; give me the ginza in tokyo on a summer evening; with its millions of twinkling little lights above the thousands of oriental shops; with the sound of bells, the whistle of salesmen, the laughter of beautiful japanese girls; the clacking of dainty feet in wooden shoes; and the indefinable essence of romance that hovers over a street of this oriental type at night. i'll stake the romance, and beauty of the ginza in tokyo, against any street in the world. he who has looked upon the ginza by night, has a flash-light of flame; of tiny, myriad little flaming lights; burned into his memory; to live until he sees at last the lighted streets of paradise itself. * * * * * nor are the clothes of the orient without their flaming colors. the beautiful kimonos of the geisha girls of japan; the crimson, gold, and rose glory of the sing song girls of china; the flashing reds of the brown-skinned spanish belles of the philippines, as they glide, like wind-blown bamboo trees through the streets; and the lurid, livid, robes which men and women alike wear in borneo and java. in fact all of the clothes of the orient, are flame-clothes. there are no quiet colors woven into the gown of the oriental. the oriental does not know what soft browns are. crimson is the favorite color for man or woman. they even make their sails red, blue, green and yellow. the beautiful colors of the sailboats in the harbor of yokohama is one of the first flashing touches of the orient that a traveler gets. from japanese obies, which clasp the waists of japanese girls, to javanese sarongs, the flame and flash of crimson predominates in the gowns of both men and women. where an american man would blush to be caught in any sort of a gown with crimson predominating save a necktie, the japanese gentlemen, the filipino, the malay, and the javanese all wear high colors most of the time. and the women are like splendid flaming bushes of fire all the time. a javanese bride is all flame as far as her dress is concerned. her face is powdered; her eyebrows are pencilled a coal black; her arms and shoulders daubed with a yellow grease. as to her dress, the sarong is a flaming robe that covers her body to the breasts; red being the dominant color; with a crown of metal which looks like a beehive on her head. brass bracelets and ornaments on her graceful arms complete her costume. * * * * * even the pagodas and temples of the oriental lands are flame. the most beautiful temples of japan are the nikko temples. "see nikko and you have seen japan" is the saying that is well said. but when one has spent weeks or a week, days or a day at nikko; he comes away with an impression of beautiful, tall, terraced, red-lacquered pagodas; beautiful, graceful red-gowned women; beautiful, architectural masterpieces of oriental temples; all finished in wonderful red lacquer; beautiful red-cheeked women in the village stores; beautiful red kimonos for sale in the curio shops; red berries burning against the wonderful green grass; and all set off, against and under, and crowned by wonderful green rows of great cryptomaria trees. these red temples and these red pagodas--red with a red that is flaming splendor of the last word in the lacquer artist's skill; are like beautiful crimson jewels set in a setting of emerald. and back of all these flash-lights of flame one remembers the path of a single star on the smooth surface of manila bay at night; and the phosphorescent beauty of manila bay where great ships cleave this lake of fire when the phosphorus is heavy of a summer night; and every ripple is a ripple of flame. one remembers the continuous flash of heat lightning down in borneo and on equatorial seas; and one remembers the southern cross; and the flash-lights of fire in a half-breed woman's eyes. chapter ii flash-lights physical the red dawn of tropical java was near. the shadows of night were still playing from millions of graceful palm trees which swung gently in the winds before the dawn. three ancient volcanos, still rumbling in blatant activity, loomed like gigantic monsters of the underworld, bulging their black shoulders above the earth. before us lay a valley of green rice paddies. we had roved over ancient boroboedoer all night, exploring its haunted crannies and corners, listening to its weird noises; dreaming through its centuries of age; climbing its seven terraces. but in the approaching dawn, the one outstanding thrill of the night was that of a half-naked javanese girl, who stood for an hour, poised in her brown beauty on the top of one of the bells of buddha, with some weird javanese musical instrument, singing to the dawn. then it came. "what? her lover?" no! the dawn! the dawn was her lover! or, perhaps her lover was old merapi. for, there, as we too, climbed to her strategic pinnacle of glory on top of the buddha bell to watch the dawn that she had called up with her weird music and her subtle brown beauty; before us, stretched thousands of acres of green rice paddies, spread out like the emerald lawn of an emerald springtime in heaven. below us two silver streams of water met and wedded, to go on as one. as we stood there that morning on the top of boroboedoer's highest bell, lines of edna st. vincent millay swung into my soul: "all i could see from where i stood was three tall mountains and a wood." only in this instance all i could see were three volcanos. and the one in the center, old merapi was belching out a trail of black smoke. these three volcanos, take turns through the centuries. when one is working the other two rest. when one ceases its activity, one of the others takes up the thundering anthem and carries it on for a few years or centuries and then lapses into silence, having done its part. while we were there it was merapi's turn to thunder and on this particular morning merapi was busy before daylight. for fifty miles along the horizon, a trail of black smoke swept like the trail of black smoke which a train leaves in its wake on a still day. there was not another cloud in the eastern skies. nothing but that trail of black smoke as we stood on the top of boroboedoer at dawn and watched. then something happened. it was, as if some magician had waved a magic wand back of the mountain. the rising sun was the magician. we saw its heralds spreading out, like great golden fan-ribs with the cone of the volcano, its direct center of convergence. then before our astonished, our utterly bewildered, and our fascinated eyes, that old volcanic cone was changed to a cone of gold. then the golden cone commenced to belch forth golden smoke. and finally the trail of smoke for fifty miles along the horizon became a trail of golden smoke. this was a flash-light that literally burned its way into our memories to remain forever. there is another flash-light physical which has to do with another volcano which i mentioned in the preceding chapter. bromo is its name. it is still there, down on the extreme eastern end of java, unless in the meantime the old rascal has taken it into his demoniacal head to blow himself to pieces as he threatened to do the day we lay on our stomachs, holding on to the earth, with the sides trembling beneath us. old bromo was well named. it reminds one of bromo-seltzer. i had heard of him long before i reached java. i had heard of the sand plains down into the midst of whose silver whiteness he was set, like a great conical gem of dark purple by day and fire by night. travelers said "you must see bromo! you must see bromo! if you miss everything else see bromo! it's the most completely satisfactory volcano in the world." it was two o'clock in the morning when we started on little rugged javanese ponies up bromo's steep slopes. at daybreak we reached the mile high cliff which looks down into the world-famous sand sea. it was a sea of white fog. i have seen the same thing at the grand canyon and in yosemite looking down from the rims. i thought of these great american canyons as i looked down into the bromo sand sea. by noon this was a great ten-mile long valley of silver sand which glittered in the sunlight like a great silver carpeted ballroom floor. tourists from all over the world have thrilled to its strange beauty. like the gown of some great and ancient queen this silver cloth lies there; or like some great silver rug of oriental weaving it carpeted that valley floor at noon. but at daybreak it was a sea of mist into which it looked as if one might plunge, naked to the skin and wash his soul clean of its tropical sweat and dirt; a fit swimming pool for the gods of java, of whom there are so many. then something happened as we stood looking down into that smooth sea of white fog, rolling in great billows below us. there was a sudden roar as if an entire hindenburg line had let loose with its "heavies." there was a sudden and terrific trembling of the earth under our feet which made us jump back from that precipice in terror. then slowly, as if it were on a great mechanical stage, the perfect cone of old rumbling bromo, from which curled a thin wisp of black smoke, bulged its way out of the center of that sea of white fog, rising gradually higher and higher as though the stage of the morning had been set, the play had begun, and unseen stage hands behind the curtain of fog, with some mighty derrick and tremendous power were lifting a huge volcano as a stage piece. then came the quick, burning tropical sun, shooting above the eastern horizon as suddenly as the volcanic cone had been lifted above the fog. this hot sun burned away the mists in a few minutes and there, stretching below us, in all its oriental beauty was the sinewy, voluptuous form of the silver sand sea--bromo's subtle mistress. * * * * * there is another physical flash-light that will never die. coming out of the singapore straits one evening at sunset, bound for the island of borneo across the south china sea, i was sitting on the upper deck of a small dutch ship. the canvas flapped in the winds. a cool, tropical breeze fanned our faces. back of us in our direct wake a splashing, tumbling, tumultuous tropical sunset flared across the sky. it was crimson glory. in the direct path of the crimson sun a lighthouse flashed its blinking eyes like a musical director with his baton beating time. i watched this flashing, lesser, light against the crimson sunset and was becoming fascinated by it. then great black clouds began to roll down over that crimson background as if they were huge curtains, rolled down from above, to change the setting of the western stage for another act. but as they rolled they formed strange and beautiful doric columns against the crimson skies and before i knew it, i was looking at the ruins of an old greek temple in the sky. then the black clouds formed a perfect hour-glass reaching from the sea to the sky, with its background of crimson glory, and the little lighthouse seemed to be flashing off the minutes in the arteries of that hour-glass. and then it was night a deep, dense, tropical night; heavy with darkness; rich with perfume; weird with mystery. but the sunset of crimson; the doric temple in ruins; the hour-glass; and the flashing lighthouse still remained. * * * * * and who shall ever forget the sunsets of gold across manila bay night after night; with great warships and majestic steamers, sleek and slender cutters, white sails, long reaching docks, and graceful filipino women, silhouetted against the gold? and who shall forget the domes, towers, and pinnacles of the cathedrals; and the old fort within the city walls as they too were silhouetted against the gold of the evening? * * * * * mt. taishan, the oldest worshiping place on earth, not far from the birthplace of confucius; in shantung; is one of the most sacred shrines of the orient. there, countless millions, for hundreds of centuries, have climbed over six thousand granite steps, up its mile high slope to pay their vows; to catch a view of the blue sea from its imminence; to feel the sweep, wonder and glory of its sublime height, knowing that confucius himself gloried in this climb. the exaltation of that glorious view; shall live, side by side, with the view from the top of the black diamond range in korea one winter's night as we caught the full sweep of the japan sea by sunset. in fact these all shall live as great mountain top physical flash-lights etched with the acid of a burning wonder into one's soul! nor shall one ever forget a month's communion with fujiyama, that solitary, great and worshiped mountain of japan; sacred as a shrine; beautiful with snow; graceful as a japanese woman's curving cheek; bronzed by summer; belted with crimson clouds by sunset like a japanese woman's obie. it, too, presented its unforgettable physical flash-lights. the first glimpse was one of untold spun-gold glory. there it stood. "there it is! there it is! look!" a fellow traveler cried. "there is what?" i called. we were on top of a great american college building in tokyo. "it's fuji!" i had given up hope. we had been there two weeks and fujiyama was not to be seen. the mists, fogs, and clouds of winter had kept it hidden from our wistful, wondering, waiting eyes. but there it stood, like a naked man, unashamed; proud of its white form; without a single cloud; burning in the white sunlight. its huge shoulders were thrown back as with suppressed strength. its white chest, a walt whitman hairy with age; gray-breasted with snow; bulged out like some mighty wrestler, challenging the world. no wonder they worship it! i had gloried in fujiyama from many a varied viewpoint. i had caught this great shrine of japanese devotion in many of its numberless moods. i had seen it outlined against a clear-cut morning sunlight, bathed in the glory of a broadside of light fired from the open muzzle of the sun. i had seen it shrouded in white clouds; and also with black clouds breeding a storm, at even-time. i had seen it with a crown of white upon its brow, and i had seen it with a necklace of white cloud pearls about its neck. once i saw this great mountain looking like some ominous volcano through a misty gray winter evening. and one mid-afternoon i saw it almost circled by a misty rainbow, a sight never to be forgotten on earth or in heaven by one whose soul considers a banquet of beauty more worth shouting over than an invitation to feast with a king. but the last sight i caught of fuji was the last night that i was in tokyo, as i rode up from the ginza on new year's eve out toward aoyama gakuin, straight into a sunset, unsung, unseen by mortal eye. before me loomed the great mountain like a monstrous mass of mighty ebony carved by some delicate and yet gigantic artist's hand. i soon discovered where the artist got the ebony from which to carve this pointed mountain of ebony with its flat top; for far above this black silhouetted mountain was a mass of ebony clouds that seemed to spread from the western horizon clear to the rim of the eastern horizon and beyond into the unseen sea of japan in the back yard of the island. it was from this mass of coal-black midnight-black clouds that the giant artist carved his ebony fuji that night. but not all was black. perhaps the giant forged that mountain rather than carved it, for there was a blazing furnace behind fuji. and this furnace was belching fire. it was not crimson. it was not gold. it was not red. it was fire. it was furnace fire. it was a pittsburgh blast-furnace ten thousand times as big as all of pittsburgh itself, belching fire and flames of sparks. these sparks were flung against the evening skies. some folks, i fancy, on that memorable night called them stars; but i know better. they were giant sparks flung from that blast-furnace which was booming and roaring behind fuji. i could not hear it roar; that is true; but i could feel it roar. i could not hear it because even so great a sound as that furnace must have been making will not travel sixty miles, even though it was as still up there in the old theological tower as a country cemetery by winter down in rhode island when the snow covers the graves. then suddenly a flare of fire shot up directly behind the cone of fuji, flaming into the coal-bank of clouds above the mountain, as if the old shaggy seer had forgotten his age and was dreaming of youth again when the earth was young and he was a volcano. above that streak of fire and mingled with it, black smoke seemed to pour until it formed a flat cloud of black smoke directly above the cone, and spread out like a fan across the sky to give the giant artist further ebony to shape his mountain monument. then fuji suddenly belched its volcano of color and lava; of rose and gold, amber, salmon, primrose, sapphire, marigold; and in a stream these poured over fuji's sides and down along the ridge-line of the lesser hills until they too were covered with a layer of molten glory a mile thick. the clouds above fuji forgot to be black. in fact, their mood of sullenness departed as by magic, and a smile swept over their massive mood of moroseness, and glory swept the skies. it was as if that furnace behind fuji had suddenly burst, throwing its molten fire over the hills, the mountains, the sky, the world. and "mine eyes" had "seen the glory of the coming of the lord." and that was enough for any man for one lifetime. * * * * * then there is beautiful boroboedoer down in java. it is a physical flash-light that looms with its huge and mysterious historical architectural beauty like some remnant of the age when the gods of greece roamed the earth. a sunrise from its pinnacled height i have already described, but the temple itself is unforgettable. there is nothing like it on the earth. boroboedoer is one of the wonders of the world, although little known. it is in the general shape of the pyramid of egypt, but more beautiful. one writer says, "boroboedoer represents more human labor and artistic skill than the great pyramids." mr. alfred russel wallace says: "the human labor and skill expended on boroboedoer is so great that the labor expended on the great pyramid sinks into significance beside it." boroboedoer was built in the seventh century a.d., by the javanese under hindu culture. then came the mohammedan invasion, destroying all such works of art in its pathway. it is said that the priests so loved this beautiful buddha temple that they covered it over with earth and then planted trees and tropical vegetation on it. in six months it was so overgrown that it looked like a hill. this is one explanation of why it lay for a thousand years unknown. the volcanic ashes undoubtedly helped in this secretion, for old merapi even now belches its ashes, rocks and dust out over the beautiful valley down upon which merapi looks. from djodjakarta you go to the temples. this great temple has, instead of the plain surfaces of the great pyramid, one mile of beautifully carved decorations, with separate panels depicting the life of buddha from the time he descended from the skies until he arrived at nirvana, or perfect isolation from the world. a history of more than a thousand years is told in its stone tablets by the sculptor's chisel, told beautifully, told enduringly, told magnificently. one writer says: "this temple is the work of a master-builder whose illuminated brain conceived the idea of this temple wherein he writes in sculpture the history of a religion." and again one says architecturally speaking of it: "it is a polygonous pyramid of dark trachyte, with gray cupulas on jutting walls and projecting cornices, a forest of pinnacles." there are four ledges to this hill temple and above each ledge or stone path are rows of buddhas hidden in great -foot stone bells, and at the top crowning the temple a great -foot bell in which buddha is completely hidden from the world, symbol of the desired nirvana that all buddhists seek. mysterious with weird echoes of a past age it stands, silhouetted against a flaming sky to-night as i see it for the first time. it is late evening and all day long we have been climbing the ancient ruins of that magnificent age of hindu culture on the island of java. this temple of boroboedoer was to be the climax of the day, and surely it is all of that. the fire dies out of the sky. the seven terraces of the stone temple begin to blur into one great and beautiful pyramid. only the innumerable stone bells stand out against the starlit night; stone bells with the little peepholes in them, through which the stolid countenances and the stone eyes of many buddhas, in calm repose, look out upon the four points of the compass. night has fallen. we have seen the great temple by crimson sunset and now we shall see it by night. the shadows seem to wrap its two thousand exquisite carvings, and its bells of buddha in loving and warm tropical embrace. but no warmer, is the embrace of the shadows about the temple than the naked embrace of a score of javanese boys who hold to their hearts naked javanese beauties who sit along the terraces looking into the skies of night utterly oblivious to the passing of time or of the presence of curious american strangers. love is such a natural thing to these javanese equatorial brown brawn and beauties that unabashed they lie, on buddha's silent bells, breast to breast, cheek to cheek, and limb to limb; as if they have swooned away in the warmth of the tropical night. the southern cross looks down upon lover and tourist as we all foregather on the topmost terrace of that gigantic shadow-pyramid of granite. the sound of the innumerable naked footsteps of all past ages seems to patter along the stone terraces. now and then the twang of the javanese angklong and the beautiful notes of a flute sweep sweetly into the shadowed air. then comes the dancing of a half dozen javanese dancing girls, naked to the waist, their crimson and yellow sarongs flying in the winds of night, as, in slow, graceful movements, facing one of the bells of buddha they pay their vows and offer their bodies and their souls to buddha; and evidently, also to the javanese youths who accompany them in their dances. the sound of the voices of these javanese girls--who in the shadows look for all the world like figures that rodin might have dreamed--mingling their laughter with the weird music; shall linger long in one's memory of beautiful things. their very nakedness seemed to fit in with the spirit of the night; a spirit of complete abandonment to beauty and worship. in their attitudes there seemed to be a mingling of religion and earthly passion; but it was so touched with reverence that we felt no shock to our american sensibilities. all night long we wandered about the terraces of the old temple. we wondered how long the javanese girls would remain. at dawn when we arose to see boroboedoer by daylight they were still there as fresh as the dawn itself in their brown beauty, the dew of night glistening in their black hair and wetting their full breasts. and across, from boroboedoer the sun, in its dawning splendor, was transforming belching and rumbling old volcanic merapi into a cone of gold. [illustration: looking over the walled city of manila, american soldiers scaled this wall a few years ago to stay.] [illustration: beautiful filipino girls all of whom speak english.] [illustration: korean girls with american ideals and training.] [illustration: stepping aside in korea to let the american devil wagon go by.] chapter iii flash-lights of faith he was an old man; gray-haired, gray-bearded; gray-gowned; and he knew that the japanese gendarmes would just as soon take his life as light a cigarette. they do each with inhumane impunity. one means as much to them as the other. he was under arrest for conspiracy in the independence movement. "do you know about the independence movement?" he was asked. "yes, i know all about it," was his fearless reply; though he knew that that reply in itself might mean his death; even without trial or further evidence. just the fact that he had admitted that he knew anything at all about the movement was enough to throw him into prison. he was like an old prophet in his demeanor. something about the very dignity and sublime faith of the man awed the souls of these crude barbarians from the island empire. "since when was it begun?" asked the gendarmes. "since ten years ago when you japanese first came to korea," was the dignified reply. "from whence did it spring?" he was asked next. "from the hearts of twenty million people!" "did twenty millions of people all get together then, and plan?" "not together in body but in spirit!" "but there must have been some men to start it?" the japanese gendarme said. "they all started it!" was the old man's reply. "is there no one who had charge of this movement from the beginning?" "yes, there is one!" "do you know him?" "i know him well!" "what is his name?" "his name is god!" said this seventy-year old, fearless christian korean patriot. such faith as i have indicated in the paragraphs above is a common thing in korea. never in the history of the world have christian people been subjected to the same tortures, the same cruelties, the same terrors, for their faith as the early christian martyrs; save these; the koreans. we had thought that the world had gotten past that day when men would be tortured, crushed, persecuted, and killed because they were christians but that day is not yet past as almost any american missionary in korea will testify. the japanese officials will say that there is no persecution because of christianity; but missionaries in korea know better. they will point to countless incidents when men, women and children have been hounded, and persecuted for no other reason than that they were christians. "and when jesus heard it, he marveled greatly and said to them that followed, verily i say unto you i have not found so great faith, no, not in israel!" might well be said of the korean christians every hour, every minute, every second. they know what it means to die for their faith. the story of pak suk han is one of the most thrilling illustrations of faith that i have ever heard in oriental lands. he had been a christian since he was seven years of age. he was a brilliant speaker and the assistant pastor of the first methodist church at pyeng yang, where, even the non-christians loved him. he was arrested on independence day and sent to prison where a barbarous japanese officer, whom the natives called "the brute" kicked him in the side because he would not give up his christ. from that kick and further inhuman treatment running over a period of six months; a disease developed which a most reliable missionary doctor told me ended pak suk han's life. when he knew that he was about to die he said, "i have been a christian and have served the church since i was seven years old. i have given my life to christ, all but the last six months in prison which i have given to my country. i have no regrets. i might have lived had i been willing to deny my nation's rights and give up my christ. i am going home to my father's house. good-by!" no christian martyrs in the early centuries of the persecutions by rome ever died with greater glory in their souls; or with deeper faith! * * * * * the temperature was zero. the cold had swept down over night from the siberian and manchurian plains across the city of seoul. the capital city of korea was shivering with cold. but it was vibrant with something else. it was vibrant with a great sense of something impending. there were those who said that the restlessness in the souls of the koreans had died down with the terrible days of the march independence movement; but i knew that the faith of the people was deeper than that. i knew that the flame of faith was just smouldering. i sensed this from the conversation of old-time missionaries who had been in korea from the very beginning. i sensed it in the conversation of young koreans who had graduated from american schools. it was there; a vibrant, living, pulsing, faith in god and in the justice of their hopes: the independence of korea. the whole thing was summed up for me in a flash. it was a flash of the light of a tremendous faith that blinded mine eyes for a day; but my soul it lighted as with a great eternal light. a korean boy stepped into the home of a missionary friend of mine, whose name i dare not use. if i did he would likely be sent home by the japanese. men have been sent home for less. the snow crunched under his feet as he walked up across the yard and the porch. he knocked at the door. "come in," said the missionary, kindly. the boy stepped in. the missionary had never seen him before. the boy was moved deeply as with a great emotion. he seemed to have carried into that quiet missionary home with him some of the tenseness of the outside air and some of the tenseness of the political situation. "what do you want?" asked the missionary. "i want to talk with you about something very important," he replied in korean. "all right! go ahead! do not be afraid. i am your friend!" "so i know. all missionaries are our friends." "then you need not be afraid to talk." "no!" said the boy. but he did not talk. his agitation was growing more marked. "go on, my boy! tell me what you came for." the korean boy looked at the half open door which led into the kitchen. the missionary, without a word, stepped over and closed that door, because he understood. the boy himself closed a door which led into the missionary's study. for in korea in these days no home; not even a missionary's home, is free from spies. the boy started to talk hurriedly. the missionary soon saw that he was not talking about the thing that he had come for. "come to the point! come to the point! you did not come to me, in such secrecy, to talk commonplace things like that!" said the missionary a bit sharply. then the boy suddenly dropped to his knees behind the missionary's desk and whipped out a big knife. then he took from his white gown a long piece of white cloth. this he laid out on the floor. then he opened his sharp knife with a quick motion and before the missionary knew it, he had ripped the index finger of his right hand, from, the tip to the palm, clear to the bone, until the blood spurted all over the floor. "what are you doing, my boy?" cried the missionary. the boy smiled a sublime smile and then knelt on his knees over the white cloth and before the missionary's tear-misty eyes wrote across the immaculate cloth in his own blood the words: "mansei! mansei! mansei! korean independence forever! self-determination!" then underneath these words in a few swift strokes in his own blood he drew a picture of the korean flag. and as he drew, now and then the blood would not flow fast enough; and he took his knife, as one primes a fountain pen; and cut a bit deeper to open new veins in order that the flag of his country and the declaration of his faith might be written in the deepest colors that his own veins could furnish. finally, after what seemed hours he jumped to his feet and handed the missionary that flag; crying as he did so: "that is our faith! that is the way we koreans feel! you are going back to america! we want america to know that our faith in the independence of korea has not died! the fire burns higher to-day than ever. the japanese cruelties are worse! the need is greater! the oppression is more terrible! our determination is deeper than ever before! i have come here this day, knowing that you are going back to america; i came to write these words in my own blood that you may know; and that america may know; that our faith is a flame which burns out like the beacon lights on the korean hills, never to die!" * * * * * the most scintillating flash-light of faith that i saw in the orient was in the philippine islands. we were traveling the jungle trail to visit a tribe of naked negritos. these are diminutive people who look like american negroes only they are much smaller; much more underfed, and who live in trees very much like the orangutans of borneo. they eat roots and nuts. they hunt with bows and arrows. they are the lowest tribe in mentality on the islands. it was a terribly hot, tropical day and i had a sunstroke on the way up the mountainside to this negrito village. i did not expect to get back alive. for three solid hours under a killing tropical sun, without the proper cork helmet and protection, a pile driver kept hammering down on my head. i felt it at every step i took. finally i dropped unconscious on the trail. after several hours i was able to proceed to the top of the mountain, where the negritos were camped. we got there about two o'clock and had lunch. as we ate about fifty negritos swarmed about us. they were a horrible looking crowd; stark naked, filthy with dirt; starved to skin and bones; and animal-like in every look and move. i was so sick that i was not able to eat the lunch which had been provided in baskets. i lay on my back trying to get back my strength. as the rest of the expedition ate, the negritos with hungry eyes, crowded closer. one hideous old man was in the forefront of the natives. he was so hideous looking that he was sickeningly repulsive to me as i looked at him crouched as he was like an animal with a streak of sunlight playing on his face. this streak of sunlight, with ruthless severity, made the ugly scabs of dirt stand out on his old wrinkled face. that face had not felt the touch of water in years. his whole body was covered with dirt and sores. wherever the sunlight struck on that black body it revealed scales like those on a mangy dog. his body was also covered with gray hairs matted into the dirt. "that old codger represents the nearest thing to an animal that the human being can reach," said mclaughlin, one of the oldest missionaries on the island. "you're right!" i said. "he looks as much like a borneo orangutan as any human being i ever saw." "and he lives like one, too; up in a tree in a nest of matted limbs and grass," said another. "i've traveled among the wild tribes of the world all my life and i have seen the lowest human beings on earth; in africa, south america, malaysia, borneo, java--australia--everywhere," said a widely traveled man in the crowd, "and i never saw a type as low in the scale as that old fellow!" so we discussed him as the lunch proceeded. he did not know, of course, that we had consigned him to the lowest rung on the ladder of humanity, so he just sat looking at us with his animal-like eyes as we ate; and at me as i lay under a tree trying to recover my strength for the trip back. "he is not a human being!" added a philosopher in the crowd. "he is lower than that stage. he doesn't seem to have a single spark of humanity left in him!" then the meal over; the missionaries started to hand out what was left of the food to these starving negritos. the old man whom we had decided was the lowest type of a human being on earth seemed, after all, to be the leader of the tribe; no doubt because of his age; perhaps because of something else which we were later to discover. mclaughlin handed out a sandwich to the old man. "did he eat it himself?" "he did not! he handed it to a child near by." mclaughlin handed out another sandwich which was left. "did the old man, whom we had decided was more of an animal than a human being, eat that one?" "he did not. he took it over behind a tree where another old man was timidly hiding and gave it to him." mclaughlin handed out another sandwich. "did the old man eat that one?" "he did not. he took it over and gave it to an old woman near by." and so it continued, until every last piece of food was disposed of. that old man; whom we had decided was an animal; saw to it, that every man, woman, and child in that crowd was fed before he took a single bite himself. then he suddenly disappeared. in half an hour he came back with an armful of great, broad, palm leaves. he spread these out on the ground in the shade of a tree; did this old man; this hideous looking monster; and then motioned for me to lie down on the bed he had made for me. he saw that i was sick. then he disappeared once again, and when he returned he was carrying a long bamboo-tube full of clear, cool water which he had gotten from a mountain spring. he brought it to where i was lying on the bed he had made for me and with this water he cooled my fevered, burning head; and from this water he gave me to drink; he whom we had decided was the lowest type of a human being on earth. and i am writing here to say; that i have never seen a "cup of cold water given in his name" that was given with a higher, or a deeper sense of the divine spark of god in humanity than i saw that tropical summer afternoon, and this water was given by the naked negrito whom we had decided was the lowest human being on the earth. yet even in this animal-man; even in this naked savage; there was a spark of the divine that made us forever have a deeper and a more abiding faith that god never did and never shall make a man to live on this old earth that he did not have some purpose in making him. a few days before i took this trip up into the jungles of luzon to visit this negrito tribe i had received a copy of a slender volume of poems by edna st. vincent millay. in the cool beauty of the tropical evening preceding this trip i had read the last lines of its introductory poem called "interim"; and these lines came flashing into my mind, even as i lay on the hot earth on that luzon hillside. i can still remember the honey dripping like rain from the cocoanut trees, and i can still hear the ceaseless and maddening cry of millions of locusts that hot day; but suddenly came this beautiful outpouring of faith from, the cool depths of a woman's woodland soul: "not truth but faith, it is that keeps the world alive! if, all at once faith were to slacken,--that unconscious faith which must, i know, yet be the corner-stone of all believing--birds now flying fearless across would drop in terror to the earth; fishes would drown; and the all-governing reins would tangle in the frantic hands of god and the worlds gallop headlong to destruction!" that day bred new faith into my soul! i have told this story of the naked negrito a hundred times since that eventful day and it kindles new flames of faith in human hearts every time it is repeated! mr. edmund vance cooke, the poet, heard it in cleveland where i spoke in a chautauqua programme and he said to me several months later in my home at detroit, michigan, "that was the most thrilling story of the divine spark in a savage soul that i have ever heard! it gave me new faith in god and in humanity!" these, and a thousand other flashlights of faith come flashing out of that far eastern background; the sublime faith of thousands of college men and women who are giving their lives because they believe that savages and barbarians, such as i have described in this negrito; do have that spark of the divine in their souls; faith that christian civilization, and christian education; and a christian god, may awaken that spark. and, indeed many a proof do they have of this miracle! only the other day from an american school, a girl from darkest africa graduated as a phi beta kappa honor scholar. bishop william a. taylor picked up this girl as a naked child in the jungles of africa less than a quarter of a century ago! chapter iv flash-lights of fear quick, short, sharp signals shot down the speaking tube from the bridge. the chief engineer of the _santa cruz_ yelled across the boiler room. the bell rang for reverse and the entire ship shivered. a woman on deck screamed, and there was a rush to the railings, for the old boat had been slowly making its way up the winding, treacherous saigon river out of the china sea into french indo-china. "those damned chinks again, trying to escape the devil!" "what's the matter, pop?" some one asked the captain. "that sampan full of chinks was trying to get away from the river devil, so they shot across our bow to fool him and we nearly ran them down." "do they often indulge in that little friendly game with the devil?" i asked him, smiling at his seriousness. "every time we enter one of these rivers they do it. i killed six of them going up the river at shanghai a year ago. it gives me the creeps every time i see them shoot across our bow. a ship like this will cut 'em in two like a knife!" we looked over the green railing of the _santa cruz_. the big ship had almost come to a stop for the engines were still in reverse and the shallow river mud was churned up until the otherwise clear water looked like a muddy pond. the little sampan, full of grinning, naked chinese coolies was fifty feet away from us, and our american sailors were swearing at them in every language they knew and shaking big, brawny, brown fists in their grinning direction. it was considered a joke by the passengers but it was a very real thing to these poor ignorant chinese. one sees this happen everywhere in the orient. for the chinaman starts out every morning in his sampan with the worst kind of a river devil after him. he must rid himself of that devil. so, when a big ship comes into sight, he waits until its bow is very close and then darts in front of its pathway. the idea is, that when a sampan full of chinamen shoots in front of a big ship the devil is supposed to follow the ship all that day, and let the chinese junk or sampan alone. [illustration: confucius' tomb at chufu, china.] [illustration: ruin of the ming tombs. the turtle, the symbol of long life, is almost as common in china as the dragon.] [illustration: grinding rice in china.] [illustration: a camel train from the plains of mongolia enters peking on a winter's day.] it is the pest of an american seaman's life, for even a seaman hates to see a human being drowned. to an american mind this seems ridiculous. it even seems humorous. i shall never forget how the passengers laughed when the captain told them why he had had to reverse his engines to keep from crushing the frail chinese sampan. but suddenly the thought came to one of the passengers; that to the poor chinaman the fear which made him do that foolish thing and the fear which made him take that awful risk was very real. "under god, the poor devils must have an awful life if they have such a fear as that in their souls day and night!" said an englishman. "they never start out for a day's work that they are not haunted every minute of that day by a thousand devils, ill-omens, and bad spirits which are constantly hovering about to leap on them and kill them!" said a missionary. "the whole orient is full of the thought of fear!" this missionary was right. paul hutchinson, editor of the _chinese christian advocate_ and one of the real literary men of the americans who are permanent residents of shanghai, told me of a chinese boy who was graduating from a christian college in nanking. the boy had been for four years under the influence of americans. he could speak good english. he was about ready to go to america to school when he had completed his work at nanking. he, with a younger brother, was at home for the christmas vacation. on the way back to college the younger brother fell overboard into the river. the older brother was not a coward. everybody will testify to that. in fact he was unusually courageous. but in spite of the fact that his puny brother was able to swim to the side of the small boat, and in spite of the fact that he begged his older and stronger brother to pull him back into the boat, that older brother refused to do so. "why?" mr. hutchinson says that the english teacher heard the tale in terror, but that the brother took it as a matter of course, explaining that the river devil would most certainly have caught and dragged into the water, any person who should have dared to attempt a rescue of his brother. it is an established thing in china; that if a native falls into the river, he never gets out unless he pulls himself out. nobody will help him, for if they do, that will incur the wrath of the river god and the rescuer also will be dragged down to his death. it is assumed that if a person falls into the river that is the river god pulling him in. the constant fear of this river god is so deeply intrenched in these poor souls that they take no pleasure on the water and they carry their sense of fear to such an extent that they will not even attempt a rescue of their own babies or loved ones if these happen to fall into the water. mr. hutchinson calls attention to dr. e. d. soper's book "the faiths of mankind" in which there is an entire chapter called "where fear holds sway." "where is it that fear holds sway?" the reader asks. the answer is, "in the orient"! yes, the whole orient is one great gallery of dim, uncertain, weird, mysterious flash-lights of fear. paul hutchinson says: "it is impossible for the westerner to conceive such an atmosphere until he has lived in it. in fact he may live in it for years and never realize the hold which it has upon his native neighbors. but it is no exaggeration to say that, to the average chinese, the air is peopled with countless spirits, most of them malignant, all attempting to do him harm. even a catalogue of the devils, such as have been named by the scholarly jesuit, father dore, is too long for the limits of this article. but there they are, millions of them. they hover around every motion of every waking hour, and they enter the sanctity of sleep. an intricate system of circumnavigating them, that makes the streets twist in a fashion to daze boston's legendary cow and puts walls in front of doors to belie the hospitality within, runs through the social order." this fear is even expressed in chinese architecture. "why is that strange wall built in front of every household door and even before the temples?" i asked a friend in china. "it is put there to fool the devils. they will see that wall and think that there is no door and then will go away and not bother that house any more," i was told. the very architecture of the chinese home is to keep the devils out. the strange curves with the graceful upward sweep that makes the roofs so beautiful to american eyes is for the purpose of throwing devils of the air off the track. they will come down from the skies and start down the curve of the roofs but will be turned back into the skies again by the upward slant of the twisted roofs. it was this same terrible sense of fear which developed the old surgical system that the koreans and chinese used before the arrival of the missionaries. "do you see these needles?" an american surgeon in korea asked me one day, as he pointed to about a hundred of the most horrible looking copper and brass needles lying on a stand. "yes," i admitted, mystified. "i have taken every one of them out of the bodies of human beings on whom i have operated here in the hospital." "where did you find them?" "in between the bowels, in the muscles, in the organs of the body, and one in the heart of a man who came to me because he couldn't breathe very well." "no wonder the fellow couldn't breathe. i don't think i could myself if i had a needle in my blood-pump!" i said with a smile. "these fancy needles that the old korean doctors thought a good deal of they put a handle on," he continued. "what was that for?" "so they wouldn't lose their needles in a body. the other, or common needles, they just stuck into the body wherever the wound or sore place was and left them there." "and what, may i ask, was the idea of this playful korean surgery! was it something like our 'button, button, whose got the button?'" "no, the idea was that there were devils in the wound. if it was a swelling there was a devil in that swelling. if it was typhoid fever, and there was pain in the bowels, there was a devil in the inward parts affected, and so, after carefully sterilizing the needle by running it through his long, black, greasy hair, the native doctor would run it into the affected part of the body to kill the devil or let it escape from the body." "the old idea of a fear religion, a fear social life, a fear family life and a fear surgery prevails in korea as it does in china?" i said by way of a question. "it prevails everywhere in the orient. to me it is the most awful thing about working out here. the awful sense of constant fear that is on the people always and everywhere." pounded-up claws of a tiger; the red horn of a deer; pulverized fish bones; roots of trees, pigs' eyes; and a thousand poisons and fear-remedies make up the medical history of the oriental doctor. "why do they kill girl babies?" "fear!" "fear of what?" "fear of devils! the devils will be displeased if a girl baby is born. therefore kill the baby. "throw the babies out on the ground in the graveyards. let the dogs eat the babies." i heard the dogs howling in a cemetery one night about two o'clock in the morning as i was coming through the thousands of little conical mounds, with here and there an unburied coffin. "the dogs are having a baby feast to-night," said an old missionary. "why?" "to appease the devils." "my god man; you don't mean that they let the dogs eat their babies because they are afraid of the devil?" i cried. "i mean just that," replied the missionary. "fear! fear! fear! everywhere. fear by night and fear by day. they never escape it. it is fear that makes them worship their ancestors. it is fear that makes them worship idols. it is fear that makes them kill their girl babies. it is fear that makes them build their little narrow winding streets, which after a while must become so filthy; fear that if they do not, the devils will find them; and if they do build their streets narrow and winding the devils will get lost searching for them. oh, god, fear, fear, everywhere! the orient is full of a terrible and a constant fear!" i looked at my friend astonished. he seldom went into such emotional outbursts. he was judicial, calm, poised; some said, cold. but this constant sense of fear that was upon the people had finally broken down his reserve of poise. "the chimneys are beautiful. see that beautiful upward dip in the architecture. they are like the roofs," i said. "but that beautiful, symmetrical development did not come out of a sense of beauty. it came to fool the devils just as we have said of the roofs. the devils will glide off into space and will never be able to get down the chimneys." it is so in other oriental countries. * * * * * the same is true in the philippine islands. the whole fabric of human life is permeated with the black thread of fear. it is true of china and korea; it is true of borneo to a marked degree; and it is true of that great mass of conglomerate humanity that we think of as india. these and other flash-lights of fear remain, and shall remain forever in my mind. but of a fifty thousand mile trip among hundreds of millions of human beings; pictures of fear stand out, blurred here and there; but clear enough in outline so that i can still see the human faces against a background of midnight darkness. three pictures are clearer than the others. perhaps it was because the flash that focused them on the plate of my mind was stronger. perhaps it was, that the plate of my soul was more sensitive the days these impressions were focused. but they stand out; three flash-lights of fear above all: one was told me by zela wiltsie worley, a college girl, now a missionary's wife, who has known what it means to lie on the floor of her home an entire morning with machine gun bullets crashing through her home, between the fire of two revolutionary armies. "i was talking with my amah--she is the girl who cares for our children," said mrs. worley. i nodded that i understood that. "we were bathing the baby--our first wee kiddie--and the amah seemed to have an unusual inclination to talk. i had been joking with her and asked her if she did not want to buy clara gene. in fun we started the characteristic chinese haggling over price, she trying to 'jew' me up and i trying to 'jew' her down. "'oh!' she said, 'girl babies are very expensive the last two or three years. now you have to pay over ten dollars to get a nice fat one! before that, if you did not drown them, you had an awfully hard time to get rid of them. there was a man in our town to whom we took the babies--the girl babies i mean. he would go up and down the streets with them and sell them to any one who would give him a chicken and a bowl of rice in return.' "'but do they drown the girl babies now?' i asked the amah. "'oh, yes, of course, if you already have one or two boys. you know, in my village i am the only christian. my own family and the rest of the village worship idols. they are afraid of their gods. they do not know any better. why my sister almost drowned my second little boy by mistake. he had just arrived and she thought that he was a girl, and had already stuck his head down in a pail of water when i rescued him.' "'but who usually kills the girl babies?' i asked. 'surely not the mother?' "'yes, she does. she is so afraid when she finds it is only a girl, afraid that the gods will be angry because she has brought another girl into the world, that she kills it!' "'do they bury it then?' "'sometimes they wrap it up, and throw it under a pile of rubbish. you know, we do not have coffins made for any of our babies who die before they have had their first teeth! i have seen so many babies drowned, mrs. worley. i never did like it. they cry so!' "then i inquired of our chinese teacher's wife if she knew of girl baby killing still going on in china. "'just last week,' this teacher's wife said in answer to my inquiry, 'the woman next door went back to her village two miles from here and she saw her own sister drown a baby while she was there.' "i asked an english missionary if she knew that this fearful custom was still prevalent over most of china with its more than four hundred million souls. "she told me that it was the custom in ning-daik for the women just to throw the girl babies under their beds, and they would 'be gone in a day or two.' "and it is all because of their awful fear that the gods will be displeased if they give birth to a girl baby!" the second outstanding flash-light of fear comes from java. in the chapter on physical flash-lights i have described the old volcano of bromo. it is a terrible thing to look into. great fissures in the earth, belch thunder, sulphur, fire, and lava. great rocks as large as wagons shoot into the air to the rim of the two hundred-foot crater, and then drop back with a crash. for centuries, and even in these days, clandestinely; i am told by men whom i trust; the most beautiful maiden of a certain tribe among the javanese; and some of the most beautiful women i saw in the orient were those soft-skinned, soft-voiced, easy-moving, graceful-limbed, swaying-bodied; brown skinned women of java; she, the fairest of the tribe is taken; and with her the strongest limbed youth; he of the fibered muscles; he of the iron biceps; he of the clean skin; and the two of them are tossed into the belching fiery crater of old bromo. "why?" i asked. "they think that in that way, they may propitiate the gods of the volcano. their hearts are constantly filled with fear lest the gods of the volcano become angry and destroy them," said the missionary. then he told me of a trip that they made a year before to the top of one of the most inaccessible volcanoes which was then in constant eruption. "we had a hard time getting native guides. finally we succeeded. we had to travel fifty miles before we reached the mountain. then we climbed five miles up its steep side, cutting our own trail as we made our way through the tropical jungle. at last we reached the timber. but before we entered the forest one of the guides came to me and, with the most pitiable and trembling fear in his voice and face, begged us white people not to say anything disrespectful of the mountain; not to joke and laugh, and not to sing; for that would make the mountain angry, and we would all be killed. "i saw that he was in deadly earnest, and, while i wanted to laugh i looked as solemn as i could, for there was such terror in his face, i knew that if i laughed he would turn and run back to civilization. "an hour later we reached the timber line. before we entered it the first boy fell flat on his face and prayed to the god of the mountain asking that god not to hurt them. then the next boy did likewise; then the third and the fourth and the fifth! "their faces were almost white with fear when we missionaries did not pray. it filled them with terror!" * * * * * and the last flash-light of fear is that of the baby in medan. the priest lived across the way in a temple. the baby was sick with whooping-cough. it was the usual, simple case of baby sickness that american babies all have, and which is not taken seriously here by either doctor or mother. the mother took the baby to the priest. the priest took a red hot iron; laid the baby on the church altar and ran the iron across its neck, and then across its breast and then across its little stomach. then he laid it on the front steps of the temple. the baby died after a few hours spent in terrible pain. hate the priest? no! despise the mother? no! pity them! the priest was honest and the mother was honest. they were doing the best thing for the baby that either of them knew. they knew that the baby had a devil in its little body and they were merely trying to drive that devil out of its body. fear! fear! fear! fear of devils in the home, lurking in the shadows of night and in the light of day; lurking in the bodies of babies; devils everywhere--always. these are the flash-lights of fear! and like unto them are the pictures of frightfulness which i have set down in the next chapter. chapter v flash-lights of frightfulness "the jap is the slant-eyed hun of the orient. he has a slant-eyed ethics, a slant-eyed morality, a slant-eyed honesty, a slant-eyed social consciousness; a slant-eyed ambition, a slant-eyed military system; and a slant-eyed mind!" said peter clarke macfarlane, the well-known author and lecturer, one day when i was interviewing him on the japanese question. "that's pretty strong, mr. macfarlane, in the light of your usual conservatism," i commented. "i say it carefully and after much thought. it is said to stay said so far, as i am concerned," he added with finality. this was also my own opinion, after spending three months in japan and korea, another month in china; and another month or two in manila; catching the angle of japanese leadership from every slant. and after due consideration, and after a year to think it over carefully, i am here to say, that i never saw, or heard of anything worse happening in belgium under german rule than that which i saw and heard of happening under japanese rule in korea, siberia and formosa, while i was in the orient. suffice it is to say, at this point, that the japanese is hated by the whole orient. i do not believe that the german hun in his worst day was ever hated more unanimously for his inhuman practices than is the jap hun hated by the whole orient to-day. "is it getting better or worse?" i am asked constantly. "worse!" i reply, and this reply is backed up by interviews i have had with returned korean missionaries. i found the japanese scorned and hated from one end of the orient to the other. as far south as java, as far east as the suez; as far north as the uttermost reaches of manchuria and siberia; as far this direction as hawaii. for instance, after i had been away from korea for six months and had come back to america i met a most conservative missionary in the romona hotel in san francisco. the last time previous to that meeting that i had seen him was in korea itself. i said to him "are things better or worse in korea?" his reply was, "worse than they have ever been; generally speaking!" i have no intention and no desire to further augment ill feeling between america and japan. in fact i do not fear anything like war in that direction; but i do have an intense feeling of responsibility about telling my readers the plain and simple truth that the whole far eastern world hates japan. if that thought itself can get into the mind of america, this country will understand, at least, that there is some fault that lies back in the japanese military policy and character itself. it hardly seems possible, with ten races and five different countries hating japan; that japan herself is not mostly to blame. when a matter of hatred is so unanimous among all races in that part of the world, it is likely that the fault lies with the race and nation which has the hatred of so many types of people focused on its actions. while i was in java some high dignitaries in the japanese navy arrived in batavia. the chinese coolies who live in batavia absolutely refused to carry any japanese officers or sailors in their rickshas. it was a striking indictment of the japanese nation. in singapore the distrust and hatred of the japanese is unanimous. in the philippines it is the same. in hongkong you see few japanese. they are not wanted and they are not trusted. in shanghai, and peking it is the same. the student movement, one of the most powerful weapons that has ever arisen in any nation in the world, has focused the chinese sentiment against selfish japanese aggression in china. the japanese officials laughed at the student boycott of japanese goods when it first started. but in a year they were trembling in the face of that boycott. i was in tientsin, and peking during the days of the student street demonstrations. they were like american demonstrations. keen, alert, intelligent chinese boys addressed the crowds admonishing them not to buy japanese goods in chinese shops. the pressure became so strong that all chinese merchants from the lowest shopkeeper up to the owner of the great chain stores, like our woolworth institutions, put away japanese-made goods and refused to sell them. i took dinner in shanghai with one of the foremost merchant princes of china and said, "are you selling any japanese-made goods?" "i certainly am not. i am not powerful enough with all my millions of money and all of my chain of stores to take such a chance as that. i have put all of my japanese goods in the cellar." the boycott against japanese goods in china became so powerful that in tientsin, while i was there, the japanese consul complained bitterly to the governor of the province and the governor who was said to be under the influence of japanese money, arrested a lot of students. there was one of the most determined and terrible riots that i have ever seen. it was war. it was not like any mild american riot. it was war to the death. several students were killed and finally the pressure was so strong that even this japanese agent was compelled to release the imprisoned students. i shall quote from an editorial that i was asked to write for the peking _leader_ during my stay in china: the weapon which most worries the japanese i should say, is the boycott that the students movement has inaugurated. the japanese government never had anything that quite worried it so much. it is a weapon that is worth a thousand battleships, or fifty divisions of soldiers. it is a weapon that will, if continuously, and consistently and faithfully used, bring a money-loving nation, like japan to her knees, and send her finally, scurrying like a whipped cur, with her tail between her legs back home where she belongs. i talked with a ragged chinese boy through an interpreter just to find what his reactions to the japanese were. he was a beggar. he said, "the japanese has a heart like a dog and a liver like a wolf." i quote again from the editorial in the peking _leader_: all day i have been on the streets of peking listening to groups of students discussing the all absorbing-question of the boycott. i have not understood the characters printed on their banners, but i have understood the light in young china's eyes. i can understand that language and that light, for it is the language and the light of freedom, justice, liberty! i am an american. i understand that light when i see it; and i know also; that it is a light that can never be snuffed out. it is a light that prison walls cannot hide and that the brute hand of the invader cannot dim. "and what are they protesting against?" is the question asked. primarily against the japanese control of shantung. secondarily, against a type of civilization which japan represents; a civilization that uses the weapons of frightfulness to accomplish its ends; a civilization that steals a nation like korea, compelling the abdication of a weak emperor at the point of the bayonet; and then using the avowed method of extermination to deplete a subjected nation. the whole orient knows japan and knows the methods that japan has used and is using in conquered territory. it is a continuous and continual policy of extermination, frightfulness, and assimilation. this is the underlying cause of the hatred of the whole orient and the far and near east against japan; and this is the fundamental reason for the students' boycott of japanese goods in china. one might devote an entire book to narrations of frightful cruelties perpetrated by japanese on koreans, siberians and formosans; but that would not be so strong as the setting forth of the underlying ethical reasons for this universal hatred in which japan is held. however it might be quite honest and fair for this writer to set down here several acts of frightfulness that came under his own personal observation merely as casual illustrations of that which is going on all the time. one day i was walking with a missionary's wife through the streets of seoul. there was an excavation being made and a little railroad track was being run along this excavation. a korean boy had been set to guard this track to keep folks from getting hurt when the dump car came down its steep grade. he had been ordered by his japanese employers to stop all passage when the signal was given. we were walking along when this korean stopped an ordinary japanese civilian. he was of the low-browed type; mentally deficient i should say; but quite the average type that is used by japan to settle these conquered countries. the korean held up his hands in warning. the japanese stooped over, picked up a stone as large as a cabbage head and, with only a space of two feet between himself and the korean, threw it with all his force against the cheek of the korean and smashed his jaw in, tearing his ear off, breaking his jaw bone, and lacerating his face fearfully. it was one of the most inhuman things that i have ever seen done. the missionary woman said to the korean when the jap ran; "why do you not report this to the japanese police?" "it would do no good. they would give no justice to me, and i would be hounded to my death for reporting it." one evening with a friend i had been speaking in pyeng yang. it was midnight one sunday and we were waiting for a train down to seoul. as we stood on the platform waiting; a north-bound train came in. it stopped. as it stopped several japanese train boys got off of the train. an old white-haired korean gentleman, about seventy-five years of age, stood on the platform waiting for the train. he was intelligent looking; poised; and well-dressed in the usual immaculately white robes. a fifteen-year old japanese train boy, seeing him standing there, deliberately ran out of his way, lowered his shoulders like a football charger and ran squarely into the old man, knocking him down to the platform and ran on with a laugh and some muttered japanese words. the dignified korean gentleman got up, brushed the dirt from his clothes; did not even deign to glance at the offending boy; and walked on as if nothing had happened. this scene illustrates two things: first, the superiority of the korean mind and character to that of the japanese. this is one of the causes of the extreme frightfulness pursued by the japanese. they instinctively feel the superiority of their captives. it is not the first time in history that a lesser nation has conquered a superior people. this superiority in soul-stuff that the korean has over that of the japanese is recognized immediately by all europeans and americans who become, even in the least bit, familiar with the two peoples. the sympathy of christian civilizations is with the koreans immediately. the other thing that this simple scene illustrates, is the spirit of ruthless cruelty and frightfulness that is bred in the very soul of the youth of japan toward the koreans. even the train boys can do a thing like that without fear of punishment. the first day that we were in seoul, the capital city of korea, pat mcconnell and myself were walking down the main street of this interesting city toward the depot. parallel with us marched a squad of japanese soldiers. in front of them, going the same direction, was a poor korean workman pushing a small cart that looked like our american wheelbarrow. the japanese soldiers were in formation and marching in the middle of a wide street. but deliberately; evidently with orders from their officer in charge; they edged over to that side of the street where the korean was walking and pushed him into the curb stone, kicking his barrow as they passed, although this meant a useless swerving of, at least, fifteen feet out of their course to do so. it was a case of deliberate brutality. "korea is a land of trails and terraces," said a prominent missionary in that fair spot to me one day as we were riding from fusan to seoul. "and terror," added another traveler from america. "it is a land of trails, terraces, and terror!" one day a friend of mine was begging baron saito, the present governor-general of korea, to stop the cruelties of the japanese gendarmes in villages in northern korea. the baron asked for the names of those who had given the missionary his information about the cruelties and he refused to give them. "why should you not give them?" asked baron saito. "because they would be killed for complaining," said the missionary. then he told governor-general saito how he had once complained to the police department when a father and son were cruelly beaten in prison. "give me their names," said the gendarme. "i will if you will give me a promise that they will be protected." "no! i cannot do that! the gendarmes are very revengeful!" i know personally of a korean preacher who has done no greater crime than to attend a meeting at a dinner given for released korean prisoners. he was arrested and kept in jail for three days, just for attending that dinner. another preacher with whom i talked was suspected of collecting money eight months after the march independence movement. when he heard that the japanese police were coming for him he fled. this angered the police. they appeared the next morning at three o'clock at his home. there were only the mother and a twelve-year-old daughter left. first the gendarmes burst in the frail doors with the butts of their rifles, and then from three o'clock in the morning until daylight, they beat and tortured those two helpless christian korean women; kicking them all over the house until they were unconscious. these two korean women were in bed for two weeks because of that night's experience and were not able to walk for a much longer period than that. and these women were educated, cultured women. they had committed no crime. it was simply because they did not know where the father was. later the father and son were arrested. they were beaten cruelly in the process of arrest although they offered no resistance. the son later said to me, "i could stand it to be beaten myself and even to see my father beaten but the unbearably cruel thing was to know that they had beaten my innocent mother and sister when no man was there to protect them." i cite this instance because it happened eight months after the independence movement, and three months after the so-called reform government of baron saito had been in effect and after the japanese press had said to the world that all cruelties had ceased. a case of frightfulness that was called to my attention; which seemed to me to be the very essence of cruelty was that of the moral terrorizing of an educated korean pastor, whom the police merely suspected of having had something to do with the independence movement. they had no direct evidence but submitted him to months of moral terrorizing which was the worst i have ever heard of. for months at a stretch they would suddenly appear outside of his home and thrust their bayonets through his doors. then they would go away without saying a word. he had absolutely no redress. if he had complained, he would have been thrown into prison. one of the most reliable missionaries that i met in korea told me of how one morning the policemen came to a church in northern korea during the hour of service. they broke eighty windows, arrested fourteen men, smashed the little organ with their gun butts, smashed a beautiful lamp, tore up the mat seats from the floors, and burned them in front of the church. at the funeral service of another young korean preacher, pak suk han in pyeng yang, hundreds of japanese soldiers appeared with drawn bayonets just to terrorize the people. the church was full of japanese officers with drawn swords. "what would have happened if somebody in a fit of patriotism had shouted 'mansei'?" i asked. "we would have been killed instantly!" said the missionary soberly. "i was afraid of that!" a prominent, educated and english-speaking korean official, told me that in a conversation with a high japanese official that that particular japanese had said "our plan will be to assimilate the korean people!" "but that will be impossible. there are twenty million of us. you will find that a hard thing to do!" said this korean. the japanese official smiled and said significantly, "we know the way!" the korean knew what that meant. it meant extermination; extermination in every way possible. it meant extermination by introducing prostitution in korea. this has been done. korea never had any legalized prostitution. korea never knew what the red light section meant. japan's first move was to introduce that. she sent her diseased women to korea. she made prostitution ridiculously cheap; fifty sen; which is twenty-five cents in american money. "why?" it is one of her ways of assimilation which means extermination and she has already shot venereal disease rates up to an alarming state in korea. her next step in frightfulness was to introduce opium. japanese agents raise thousands of acres of opium in korea and sell it. this is another one of her steps in the process of assimilation or extermination. japan has stolen from poor koreans their rice lands and their coal beds. the process is for a japanese company to buy the water sources of the rice paddies below and then refuse to let the koreans have water for his rice fields. this is another step in frightfulness that will finally exterminate the korean if it keeps up long enough. the recent massacre of koreans in manchuria by japanese soldiers illustrate the japanese spirit. this same policy of frightfulness is carried on in formosa and in siberia and wherever the japanese army and gendarme system has authority. it is worse than anything that the germans ever did in france or belgium. it has its only parallel in the dark ages. i told baron saito, governor-general of korea this in an interview. he wanted to know what america thought of japan's rule in korea. i said: "america and the whole civilized world is stirred with indignation at the japanese rule in korea. there has been nothing like it since the dark ages." then i read him a quotation from an editorial in _zion's herald_, a church paper published in boston with virtually those words in it. * * * * * my friend, whom i met first in france, when he came back from. france was sent to siberia as a captain in the american army. i met him in manila just after he had returned from siberia. he, in common with all americans who had seen the japanese methods of frightfulness in siberia, was filled with hatred. "one night," he said, "a company of japanese soldiers entered the little village six hundred miles north of vladivostok where we were located. they announced that they were hunting for bolsheviks. "they did not find any in the little village, although they ruthlessly broke down every door of every home in that village. then they went out to a sawmill about three miles from town and brought in five boys between the ages of twelve and eighteen. "after torturing these boys in an old box car for two days, hanging them up by the thumbs with their arms behind their backs until they were unconscious; and then forcing salt water, hot water, cold water, and water with pepper in it down their nostrils, alternately; and other added cruelties; they announced to the village that they would release them that night on the public square." "did they do it?" i asked anxiously, for i was stirred to my soul's depths with his narration of cruelties in siberia. "yes, they released them; in this way: "they called all the friends and families of the prisoners together on the public square. then they dug five graves. then five japanese officers came stalking across the public square, whisking at the thistle-tops with swords as they came; and then walked up to these innocent russian boys, and whacked off their heads. "had they been tried?" i asked indignantly. "they had been given no trial. they were mere boys, who, probably, didn't even know what the word bolshevik meant. it was the worst illustration of frightfulness that i ever saw, although it was a common thing for the japanese troops to go through the country upsetting the barrels of honey that the poor peasants were saving up for the long winters; rooting up their young potatoes; cutting the throats of their colts and cattle, and ravishing the land." "how could you stand it?" "we couldn't stand it. i had to fight to keep my company of americans from sailing into them with fists and bayonets. it would have meant war. so i sent word back to headquarters that we were out of provisions and we were called back to vladivostok." can this scene be duplicated in formosa and korea, where the japanese hold sway? it can. during the independence movement in korea this thing happened: all of the korean christians had been asked to assemble in a church for a meeting. when they were all in the church, the japanese gendarme set fire to the church and then fired into it, killing every man. a woman, big with child, came running toward the church having heard the shooting and knowing that her husband was within. a big, burly japanese pushed her back. "what do you want?" he cried in korean. "i want to go in there. my husband is there," she cried in terror. "but you will be killed if you go in there!" "i don't care! i want to die if he is to die!" "all right! you shall have your wish!" said the japanese, and pulling out his sword, cut off her head, killing her instantly. she fell at his feet with her unborn child; and he laughed aloud at the spectacle. this is japanese frightfulness and it can be duplicated by many missionaries in korea if they dared to speak. but the minute they speak and tell the truth that minute they are sent home from their life work. they realize that this leaves the koreans to the utter and awful cruelties of the barbarous japanese, and because of this, in spite of their indignation they hold their tongues for the larger good. but they eagerly give the facts to those of us who are coming back to america so that america in turn may know what is going on in korea. that is the only hope; that the indignation of a righteous world, without war, may bring pressure to bear on japan to stop these terrible cruelties and tortures; this unutterable frightfulness. this is the hope of the missionaries; this is the only hope of the koreans! * * * * * i don't know whether or not it was because i had been listening for so long to the most brutal stories of japanese treatment of korean men, women and children; with murder, rapine, burning of homes, especially christian homes; beating of a mother and her twelve-year-old girl from three in the morning until eight to make them reveal the hiding-place of their preacher daddy, that the crimson, blood-red sunset i witnessed on my last night in korea seemed to me like a "sunset of crimson wounds." all i know is that it happened in korea while i was there, and that my soul had been, for a solid month, stirred to the depths of its righteous wrath over the things that i had heard first-hand from human lips. but there it was. the sky was blood-red. at first it was black, a somber black. not a coal-black but a slate black. then suddenly just at the edge of the horizon a crack began to appear. it was a slit of blood. it looked more like a wound than anything else i ever saw. the slit of blood grew larger and larger in the slate-black clouds. then suddenly all over the horizon these wounds began to break through the mass of black clouds. some of these slits were horizontal slits, and some of them ran in graceful curves. some of them looked as if a bayonet had been lunged into the body of that somber cloud and a great crimson gash was made with ragged edges as big as a house. then it looked as if some ruthless japanese gendarme had taken his sword and slashed a rip in the abdomen of that sky; and from side to side like a crescent moon appeared this great crimson wound. i had never seen a sunset just like it. but there it was. it seemed that there was back of that great black cloud a blood-red planet, pouring its crimson tides like a great waterfall down back of that slate-black mass until finally the curtain of black began to tear, and the blood poured through to run along the horizon, and splash against the clouds, and slit its way like wounds through the clouds of night. and i thought of something else. i thought how a man once was crucified. i thought how dark the skies were on that afternoon. i thought how slate-colored and somber all life seemed, especially to that little group of disciples. i thought of the wounds in his hands and feet and side. i thought of the wounds the thorns in his crown made, and of the blood that ran over his face. i could see him there back of that cloud in korea. i could see his christian people being crucified again because of their religion. i could see japanese bayonets thrust into his side and japanese nails through his feet and his hands. i could see a japanese crown of thorns on his head because he said, "inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren ye have done it unto me." and i could see the blood of his wounds breaking through that nation's clouds on that wonder evening of the "sunset of wounds" back of the korean mountains in december. chapter vi feminine flash-lights "oriental women are fascinating to occidental men," said a newspaper reporter in a shanghai hotel lobby, a year ago. "all women are fascinating to occidental men. take the french girls and the way they captured our american soldiers; of course, these brown-eyed, brown-skinned, graceful, mysterious----" "it's just as i said," replied the first speaker interrupting the second speaker, "oriental girls are more fascinating to occidental men than white girls." "yes--i guess you are right, when we get down to the honest to goodness truth of the thing," said an american oil man. "take that javanese girl who knocked at the door of my room; or take that half-breed malay girl we met on the ship between singapore and batavia; or that little red-cheeked japanese girl in tokyo; or that spanish brunette in manila; or--oh, boy! do you remember that chinese half-breed, with english blood in her veins and an english education in her brain and paris clothes on her back, and american pep in her eyes, and japanese silk stockings on her----" "come on! come on! we didn't call on you for a lecture on oriental girls whom you have met," said the first speaker. then a bell boy paged me and i lost the rest of the conversation. but this dialogue set me to thinking on the various types of fascinating oriental women; the standing they have in the world; and the status of their living. there were the japanese women; beautiful, graceful, red-cheeked, small of stature, wistful-eyed, colorfully dressed; always smiling slaves to their men. the well-trained geisha girl has, for centuries, because of her superior education, received the confidences of japanese men; while a japanese man would scorn to talk things over with his wife. there was the banquet we attended at the imperial hotel in tokyo. mr. uchida, the minister of foreign affairs, and many of the high officials of japan were present with their wives. several members of the house of parliament were present as well as the secretary to mr. hara, the prime minister. each of these great leaders of japan had his wife by his side at the banquet table. it was a small group. one of the speakers of the evening said: "perhaps you americans do not realize that this banquet is an unusual occasion in japan. i think that it is the first time that i have ever attended a banquet in all my life, when so many japanese gentlemen had their own wives with them at that banquet. it is a very unusual thing to do, but i hope that, in time, it will become more common in japan, as it is in america." this speech was met with amused laughter on the part of the japanese gentlemen present; but laughter that was kindly; and it was met with applause on the part of the americans present. it was typical of the attitude of even the educated japanese man toward the matter of appearing in public with his wife at his side. up in sapporo, on the island of hokkaido, we were entertained by a beautiful japanese woman. we had been away from america for several months and were tired of eating japanese food, so when we were invited to this japanese home for a dinner we groaned. but much to our delight, when we sat down we had as fine an american dinner as any of us had ever eaten. i turned to our hostess, a most beautiful japanese woman; the wife of the dean of the college at sapporo; and said: "do you have servants who know how to cook american food?" "no, i cooked it all myself!" she said much to my surprise with a bow and a smile. and there she sat, cool and poised after having cooked food enough for fifteen people that morning; and arranging for it to be served in the finest style; with place cards, salted almonds, turkey, pudding, vegetables and everything that makes an american dinner good; including a fine salad. there she sat; as cool, calm and collected as if servants had done all of the work that morning instead of she herself. and never in all of my life have i seen a more gracious hostess. she watched the wants of every guest. she noted which guests liked a special food, and saw to it that they had plenty of that particular food; and, in addition to this she kept a fascinating line of conversation going constantly during the meal. "do you live in american fashion or japanese fashion?" i asked her, knowing that she had been educated in america. "both!" was her reply. "we have japanese rooms for our japanese guests and american rooms for our european and american guests." "but how do you live yourselves; how are you training your children?" i asked her. "we are training our daughters to live in american style; on a common ground with the men. that is the better way. that is the fairer way! that is the way out of our feminine darkness!" she said it quietly, with poise, and with a fine assurance which was thrilling. it sounded like a call to battle, like a trumpet note in the new freedom for women. a missionary friend told me at the conclusion of that meal that this beautiful young japanese hostess whispered to her mother-in-law during the dinner a phrase that sounded strangely like american slang, when she noted that her mother-in-law was not carrying on much of a conversation with the man beside her, "start something! he can speak japanese as well as english!" at that, dear mrs. mother-in-law started an animated conversation in japanese with her silent guest on her left. this was illustrative of the care with which our hostess was watching that we be kept happy at her table. it was a feminine flash-light that i do not care to forget; an illustration of the possible efficiency, poise, grace, beauty and sweetness of the japanese woman of the future when she shall have won her rights of freedom from the slavery of an inferior position to man in the social scale. to an american, the position of woman in regard to prostitution in japan is a terrible thing, but when we consider the light in which the ethical thought of japan sees it, we do not blame the women any more than jesus blamed the woman taken in adultery in his day. the system of prostitution is run by the government and the largest income that the government has, comes from the sale of sake, the national drink, and its houses of prostitution. a woman who becomes a prostitute is looked upon as a heroine. this is for the simple reason that she is given a matter of several hundred yen, it depending upon her form, beauty and qualifications for her position; and that money goes to her poor parents. when she leaves her little village to give a certain number of the years of her life to the yoshiwara in order to free her parents from debt she is lauded and fêted by the people of her village and sent off as one who goes on a crusade of service. prostitution is so much a part of the acknowledged life of japan that temples for prostitutes exist where they may go and pray. in one temple we saw large numbers of photographs put up by certain girls of the yoshiwara to advertise their wares. consequently there is no fine tradition of ethical values established in japan and the poor girl herself is not to blame. nor is she blamed; for it is not at all an uncommon thing for a japanese girl to marry out of a house of prostitution into a fine family. one of the terrible feminine flash-lights that every careful traveler discovers in the orient is the presence of japanese girls in the segregated sections of shanghai, seoul, peking, nanking; and even so far away as singapore. i understand however that a recent order from the emperor has called all these girls back to japan, which is an upward step not only for japan as a nation; but for the womankind of japan. * * * * * it was in a japanese hotel in northern china that pat mcconnell and i had our experience with the strange ways and customs of japan. pat was taking the pictures and i was writing the stories. we thought it would be an unusual experience to stay all night at a regular japanese inn. we stayed. that night, much to the amusement, of the missionaries who stayed with us, three beautiful japanese girls came gracefully into the cold room where we had started to take our clothes off. they bowed several times as they came with cups of hot tea. they seemed to pay particular attention to me. all three of them bowed to me first and then each proceeded to select an individual man to whom they served tea. i took it for granted that they had paid this particular attention to me because of some special characteristic of masculine beauty or intellectual appearance; or atmosphere of greatness that must have hovered about me in some unknown fashion. i made the mistake of swelling up with pride and bragging about this attention that i had received. "ah, that's because of your bald head. they think that you are the old man of the party. they have great respect for old age!" the missionary said with a roar of laughter. the truth of the matter was that i was the youngest of the party, but those girls had selected me as the venerable member of the group of americans. but the climax came when these young ladies decided to stay with us "to the bitter end" as pat called it. after filling us with tea they still remained; bowing and smiling; even though they could not understand a word we were saying nor we a word that they were saying. "it's one o'clock now! i'd like to get to bed," said pat. "how long will they stay with us?" i asked. the missionaries only grinned in reply. "by george, i'm going to take my shirt off and see if they won't go!" said pat. he took it off. the young girl who was serving him took his shirt and after neatly folding it, laid it carefully away. "so that's what they're waiting for; to undress us?" queried pat and the missionaries laughed again, waiting to see what would happen. "they can go as far as they like. if they can stand it, i can!" said pat. then he took off his shoes. a young lady took the shoes, carefully brushed them off, and put them away. then he took off socks, followed by his trousers. it looked as they would stay until pat got into his pajamas. he was in a corner. "it seems as if this young lady wants to put me to bed right!" said pat, with a grin. "that's exactly what she is here for. it's a hotel custom in japanese hotels and we get so that we don't think anything of it. they bathe in the same pool; men and women alike; and think nothing of it. after all, modesty is not entirely a matter of clothes, as the japanese prove." "anyhow, that's what i call service!" said pat with a grin. * * * * * it was a cold winter night in seoul, korea. i had been invited to dinner at a korean home; the home of a former governor under the korean regime; and now, a respected official under the japanese rule. i had looked forward to this dinner with unusual interest. we took rickshas to get there and nearly froze on the way. we took both our shoes and our coats off on the back porch and left them to the tender mercies of the zero weather which prevailed on that night. we were ushered into this beautiful home. a room was full of men; stately sons of the family; the gray-bearded, dignified father; but no women, not a single woman. i wondered about this, for i knew that this household was noted for its beautiful daughters and a wonderful mother. the missionaries had told me that. i wondered why no women came to welcome me. finally we sat down to one of those interminable oriental dinners, with thirty or forty courses; squatted on our haunches, on the cold floor; half-frozen, cramped and uncomfortable. then in came a beautiful girl. she was beautiful in every sense of the word; physically and spiritually. there was a touch of refinement about her which made me know that she had received an english education. but she was not there for any part of the dinner. not at all. she was there merely to serve. i found that she could speak english and every time she came to serve me, i took the opportunity of talking with her; taking a chance on whether it was diplomatic for me to do so or not. i was after information. "you speak good english?" i said. "why do you not sit down and eat with us?" she laughed aloud. "my father would drop over dead if i did. it is not the custom in korea for the women of the family to dine with the men on an occasion like this. we eat alone in the kitchen." "have you a mother?" "yes, but she is in the kitchen." "will i not get to meet her before i go?" "perhaps? perhaps not. if you meet her at all it will be just at the close, of the evening, providing my father thinks to call her. it is not important; so our korean men think." "but you; you know better? you have been in an american school?" i said, as she came in for the fifteenth course and paused a moment to talk with me. "yes, i know better! i know the american way of treating women is the christian way," she said sadly. "and what do you think of that way? do you not like that way better than the korean way?" i asked. "the american way is much better." then she paused and much to my delight used a typical american girl's phrase, with an appealing touch of pathos in her voice and a blush of crimson in her brown cheeks, "why, i just love the american way!" she said and then fled, blushing with shame, as if she had said something immodest. i did not see her again that evening. nor did i see any of the other women of that household. nor did i see the mother of the home at all. * * * * * it was in a shanghai hospital. i was sitting beside an american newspaper friend who was at the head of the chinese information bureau. he was a world-vagabond. beside his bed sat a beautiful chinese girl, who had been educated in england and whose mother was a scotch woman. her father was a full-blooded chinese. "i love her but she won't marry me!" said my friend suddenly looking up toward the chinese girl. [illustration: the temple of heaven, peking. long before a single cathedral had been built in europe this beautiful structure was erected.] [illustration: a beautiful thirteen story pagoda near peking.] [illustration: millions of wayside temples and shrines adorn the fields and highways everywhere in japan, korea, and china. this is one of them. a shrine and a temple.] [illustration: a sunrise silhouette photograph of some of the hundreds of bells of buddha on boroboedoer, java.] she was a beautiful girl and could play a piano as few american women i have met. she would have graced any social room in america with her dark beauty, her brown eyes, and her oriental fire. she was rich. her father was worth several millions; being one of many shrewd chinese business men. she was dressed like a parisian model, in the latest european styles. she was in china for the first time in her life. her father had brought her back to marry a chinese boy. she did not love him. she did love my american friend. "why will you not marry james?" i asked her. "my father would kill me," she said quietly. "does he say so?" "he does. he went to america a week ago; and the last thing he said was, 'if you marry anything but a chinese i will kill you!'" "did he really mean it?" i asked her, astonished. "he meant it more than anything he ever meant in his life. it would be considered a disgrace to my entire family if i married anybody but a chinese boy." "even though your father married a scotch woman?" i said. "for that very reason it is imperative that i marry my own blood," she said. "that is terrible!" i replied catching my first glimpse of the strange and terrible social position in which a girl of mixed blood is placed in china. "you see," she said in a quiet, refined voice, with a marked english accent, "i have an english education but i have chinese blood. i can never be happy marrying a chinese after i have been educated in england. i can never be happy with chinese clothes, chinese customs, and chinese people. and yet if i marry the man i love, it will break my father's heart. he would kill me to be sure; for if he says he will, that means that he will keep his word. but that would not be the worst of it. to die would be easy." "what would be the worst of it?" i asked, my heart stirred with a strangely deep sympathy at this beautiful chinese girl's dilemma. "the worst thing would be that it would break my father's heart!" then she wept. that was my first glimpse of the life of tragedy through which a half-breed woman of the orient has to go. i met them in the philippines, with spanish and american blood running in their veins; i met malay girls whose fathers had been german or english; i met dyak girls whose fathers had been dutch; and javanese girls whose fathers had been either american, english or dutch. i stayed with such a woman in a home in borneo. she had been a dyak girl. yet she did not look it. she had a beautiful home with beautiful english speaking children. i met her in the interior of borneo a hundred miles from a single white woman. and yet in this far interior; living with her english husband who was the head of a mining project; she was keeping intact the english education of her children. there was a piano and the children played beautifully while the mother, in a rich contralto voice sang. she was graceful, accomplished, beautiful, poised and sweet. one night as we walked alone under the moonlight the englishman opened his heart to me and said, "you are going to visit the head-hunting dyaks to-morrow. you will see their abject squalor and filth. you will be surprised when i tell you that my wife was a dyak girl and that i took her out of a kampong fifteen years ago and took her to england." "that's a lie!" i exclaimed. "it is the truth!" he added. somehow his statement angered me. i don't know why. perhaps it was the unusual heat of the tropics. we were directly on the equator. i would have fought him for that statement. but it was true. "and the hell of it was that when i took her to england she was not happy and my people would not receive her. so we have had to come back to borneo and live our lives in this fashion, far from civilization." he was silent for a few minutes. "that is the fate of mixing bloods in these tropical lands," he said with a shudder. "and the woman always suffers more than the man!" i met another malay-english girl on the ship going from singapore to batavia, java. she too was an educated, english-speaking girl of a strange beauty and fascination. she started to talk with me as i sat alone on the dutch ship. we were the only english-speaking people on board and we felt a certain comradeship. we sat an entire evening talking about the problem of a girl of mixed blood in the malay states. "white men always assume that we are bad girls. they come into the offices where we work as stenographers and insult us. it is that taint of mixed blood. we have the longings and the ideals of the best blood that is in our veins; but the skin and the color and the passions of the worst. we try to be good; some of us; but everything is against us. we can never marry white men; though we frequently fall in love with them for we work side by side with them in the offices. but when it comes to marrying us they fear the social ban. it is a terrible thing. there is no way out! it is a thing that has been imposed upon us from the generations that have gone. we pay!" i shall never forget her brown eyes, her brown skin, her heaving breast, as the great dutch ship cut the waves of the south china sea bound for java. "why are you leaving a good position and going to java?" i asked her. "they say things are better for us girls in java; that the dutch are not so particular. i shall no doubt be homesick for singapore but i am going to try java for a while. my sister is there!" * * * * * a feminine-flash light that has its humorous side was one that i experienced in borneo. we had gone out to a dyak village to take pictures. it was a miserably hot morning. that night i stayed in pontianak which is bisected by the equator. it was so cold in the middle of the night that i had to get up and put on a night shirt! the next day we tramped ten miles through the jungle to a head-hunting dyak village. i had been taking pictures for an hour in this kampong when six of the most beautiful dyak girls came in, with great bamboo water tubes flung over their gracefully strong shoulders. their skin looked like that of a red banana from toe to chin. they were stark naked save for a girdle about their loins. they had been five miles away for water. their skin was flushed with exercise. there they stood, mystified at seeing white men in the village kampong. in fact they were terrified. their big brown eyes bulged out. their breasts heaved with fear. i said to the missionary, "dyak madonnas! what a painting they would make?" "yes, there are no more beautiful women anywhere. they look like bronze statues. a rodin, or a st. gaudens would go wild over their limbs and bodies." i asked the missionary to tell them that i wanted to take a picture of them just as they were, standing with their water vessels poised on their shoulders; in their naked splendor and beauty. he told them. they squealed for all the world like american girls and ran for dear life, disappearing in the flash of an eye. he tried to coax them to come out to get a picture taken. the missionary could speak their language but they would only peek through the doors with grinning faces. finally they agreed that we could take their pictures if i would let them put dresses on. i didn't want to do this; for i wanted them just as they were; but saw that they were adamant in their souls even if their brown bodies did look as soft as ripening mangos; and as beautiful and brown. i pictured all sorts of ugly dresses; discarded by the white folks and given to them. but much to my surprise, when they appeared all dressed up for the picture, every last one of them had on a white woman's discarded night gown. i wanted to laugh. it destroyed their picturesqueness but those gowns could not destroy their symmetrical beauty of limb and body. "that's a quick way to dress up!" i said to my missionary friend. we smiled but i got the picture. and back of these flash-lights feminine; is the black page of the history of womankind in all the far east; with footbinding still rampant over nine-tenths of china; baby-killing, baby-selling, and baby-slavery which i saw with my own eyes time and time again; with slavery of womankind, from japan down to ceylon the regular thing. but there is still hope in the woman-heart of the far east; and the hope is the american woman and her religion. that and that alone will break down prejudices, break off shackles, and tear to bits the traditions of the past. * * * * * "the women suffer! yes, the women always suffer!" said a big fellow to me up in the northern part of luzon in the philippines one evening. "what do you mean?" i asked him, scenting a story. then the man told me of a cholera epidemic that he had passed through; of how he had tried to care for the sick, even though he was not a physician; told me of their poor superstitious methods of driving away the "evil spirits." he told of how he had gone into homes where he found seven inmates dead and four dying; of how he tried to care for them with nothing medicinal at hand. then he told me of how the poor people went down to a dirty inland river and had killed a hog, taken its heart; killed a dog, taken its heart; and then after putting them on a little raft, floated them off down the river to drive the cholera away. then he told me of how the natives had, in their desperation, tied tight bands about their ankles to keep the evil spirits from coming up out of the earth into their bodies. "but what do you yourself do about a doctor. you say that you are miles from a doctor, even here. what about your children, when they take sick?" i asked him, and then was sorry that i had asked the question because of a terribly hurt and unutterably sorrowful look in his eyes. "mother and i don't like to talk about that or to think about it!" he said simply, and i knew that i had torn open an old wound which was just over his heart. his voice broke as he spoke, and he looked at the woman who was his brave helpmate and said again: "mother and i don't like to think about that!" the tears ran down over his cheeks and "mother's" too, and mine also. "i am sorry! i am sorry if i have opened an old wound!" i said, quite helpless to remedy the damage i had done. i felt as one who had unwittingly trodden on a flower bed and crushed some violets. they bleed, even though you see no blood. i saw that their hearts were bleeding. but he spoke. "we were miles from a doctor. baby took sick. if we could have had a doctor she would have been saved." "now daddy, we do not know for certain about that," said the ever-conservative woman in her. "there was not a filipino doctor. she died in mother's arms!" it was oppressively silent in that far-off mission home for a few minutes. i thought some one would sob aloud. it might have been any one of us, the way we all felt. i took hold of my cane chair with a grip that numbed my hands for a half hour afterwards. chapter vii flash-lights of fun all the "peck's bad boys" of the world are not confined to american soil. i found them all over the far east; especially in china. i was annexed by one of them who became a sort of a guide de luxe when we were going through the ruined palaces of the romantic regions of peking. he annexed himself to us in somewhat the same fashion as a thistle or a burr annexes itself to you as you walk through the field where thistles are thick. he was an acquired asset of questionable value. with him were a lot of followers but it was plain to be seen that he was the leader of the gang; which was, for all the world, like a typical street gang in an american city. who could pass up that group of a dozen little rascals who followed us through the ruins of the old summer palace? who could resist their imitations of everything one did? i sneezed and the little rascals sneezed also. i counted one, two, three, four, as i adjusted my graflex for a picture and i heard a chorus of laughing "one, two, three, fours." i yelled ahead to an american member of the party and said "wait!" and a dozen boys yelled "wait!" we fell in love with the dirty-faced rascals. they looked to be a nuisance when we started and i wanted them driven back, but before we were through they had become the most interesting part of the whole trip. sure enough we emptied our purses of pennies and some white money. the little fellow who was in his bare feet and who said, with a real touch of seven year old chinese humor, "these are leather shoes that i have on and they will last all my life," won our hearts. that was humor with a vengeance. this lad was happy. no wonder then that when one of the party passed him an extra penny early in the morning he winked knowingly as one who had been taken into the inner councils of affection. and no wonder that he followed the man who gave him that penny to the end of the morning, and no wonder when we told him through the interpreter that we liked the boys because they were good boys; he said in return, "some boys would have followed you around, pulling your coats and being rude and yelling at you." the nonchalant way in which they admitted that they were good boys won our hearts and we came back penniless. then who can forget the little rascals who smiled and winked back in the midst of the dignified lama ceremonies over at the lama temple, proving that they were, after all, real human boys with a laugh and the spirit of fun in their little souls in spite of their having to take part in this dignified chanting service. it was fun when the service was over to see them tumble out of the temple so fast that one boy fell and about six fell on top of him just as american boys do pouring out of school. i even saw one lad whack another one on the back of his little bald head and a scuffle ensued. they laughed, fought, tumbled pell-mell, got up again grinning, winked and laughed back at the good natured americans for all the world like american boys. the chinese have a distinct sense of humor and it is very much like that which is found in our own america. indeed the chinese are like us in many respects. the filipino enjoys a good joke but his humor is more cruel than is american humor. the dyak of borneo has a sense of play and fun that would not exactly appeal to an american mind; although there are those who claim that american football is a near kin to the delightful game of head-hunting indulged in by the dyaks of borneo. the dyaks have for centuries been known as the head-hunters of the far east. they, in common with the igorotes of the philippines, have had the playful custom of going out when the mood took them and bringing in a few heads just as our indians used to get scalps. when a dyak youth wanted to marry a nice young dyak girl to whom he had taken a fancy (and i can assure the reader that some of them are as beautiful as rodin's bronze statues), he didn't even dare mention his desire for that young bronze beauty until he had brought in five or six heads. after that he had some standing in the lady's sight. without the heads he had no more chance of winning either the girl herself or her pa or ma or any of the dyak family than the proverbial snowball has of getting through borneo without melting. it just simply couldn't be done according to dyak etiquette. head-hunting was a game between tribes also. when two tribes of dyaks felt a playful mood coming on, they would challenge each other to a head-hunting game. the game would last for a week or so and the tribe that took the most heads won. it was nothing like "tag you're it." if so, some of the skulls that i have seen at dyak compounds would not be grinning so hideously these days as they ornament the poles of certain vain and proud dyak hunters. the battaks of sumatra also have a playful custom of getting rid of their old men. when a man gets so old that they think it is about time for him to tell his last tale, they put him up a cocoanut tree. then all of the young bucks of the village get together and try to shake him down. if he is too feeble to hold on, and comes down, that is a sign of heaven that his days are through and they cook him and eat him. * * * * * the japanese claim to have a great sense of humor. japanese students speaking in america, insist that this is true. but travelers in japan do not find it so. indeed if japan had a sense of humor, it would keep her out of many an international tangle. she does not know how to laugh. her sense of dignity is so exaggerated that she does not know the fine art of smiling and laughing at herself. "what does japan most need to learn?" a student asked me. "to laugh," i replied. "i think that you are right! your lincoln knew how to laugh!" was his response as he went off thoughtfully. i was advertised to speak in a northern college in japan. the dean of the school wanted to advertise me so that the students would all come out to hear me. this is the way he did it: "dr. stidger is a college student who played with the foot-ball in america. he is a man with the bigness of the head! he reaches the six feet tall; the four feet around; has an arm like an ox and a head like a board!" i was not certain as to just what he meant by many of those references, but i was assured that they were intended to be highly complimentary to me. i am not yet sure of that but i had a good laugh just the same. the story is told of a ruthless american humorist hotel-keeper in singapore who was entertaining a group of japanese officers from the japanese navy. this american had no love for japan. he also knew of their lack of humor; so when the japanese captain arrived at the hotel the american manager made quite an extended speech of welcome, as his american friends listened, greatly amused. he said in part: "the hotel is yours! during your stay the entire force of servants is at your disposal. if there is anything that you want that you do not see, please ask for it." [illustration: old bromo volcano, java. "the way it effervesces bromo is a fitting name," said the author when he saw it in action.] [illustration: a side view of beautiful boroboedoer in java. said by travelers to make the pyramids look like child's play as a tremendous piece of construction; and as a work of art to have no rival in the whole world.] [illustration: naked and otherwise. this curious conglomeration of mongrel children watching the photographer in borneo where dyaks, chinese, malay and others mix indiscriminately.] [illustration: a dog market among the iggorotees of the philippines.] the japanese captain bowed continuously and smiled; sucking in his breath with a characteristic national custom; the same sound they made as they eat fried eggs in a japanese dining car; a sound similar to the old-fashioned but now obsolete method of drinking coffee from a saucer. "there is just one request however that we will have to make of you, while you are here with us in the hotel," continued the american hotel manager. "and what is that may i ask?" inquired the japanese captain, still bowing and sucking in air through his teeth. "that you do not climb around in the trees!" the japanese officers did not see the joke and did not even smile but the americans in the far east have laughed over it for years. which reminds one of the night on the sambas river when a hundred little monkeys were silhouetted against a crimson sunset. red, brown, yellow, golden, blue orchids flashed in the sunlight; and flowers of every hue under god's blue skies made brilliant the river banks. at times the ship went so close that i could reach out and grab a limb of a tree, much to the indignation of the monkeys who chattered at me as if i had stolen something. now and then a big lazy alligator slid into the water from the muddy banks as the wave-wash from our propeller frightened him. coming back down the sambas river, along its winding, beautiful way we sat one evening and watched a crimson sunset from the deck of the ship. at one point in the river there was a row of dead, bare trees. there were no leaves on the branches--only monkeys: big red monkeys, which they call "beroks," and little gray fellows, which they call "wahwahs." these monkeys were strikingly silhouetted against the crimson sunset in strange tropical fashion. from the tips of those dead trees down to the lowest branches dozens of monkeys stood like sentinels, or romped like children, or chattered like magpies. their long curling tails silhouetted below the branches against the light of evening. * * * * * most americans who go in and out of japan get disgusted with the regulations that policemen impose upon them. this is especially true of those americans living in china who are compelled, for business reasons, to go in and out of japan, for at every trip they are required to answer the same list of questions. i traveled from korea into japan with the military attaché of the spanish legation. when we landed a japanese officer who had known him for many years insisted upon his answering the usual questions. "i've been in this country for ten years and yet i never go out or in that they do not compel me to go through the same foolish police regulations which they have copied from germany and haven't sense enough to give up!" he said indignantly. i also traveled with a party in which there was a methodist bishop's wife. this bishop's wife absolutely refused to give the japanese policeman her age. not that she had any reason to be ashamed of her age. in fact she could easily have passed for twenty years younger than she probably was, but she just had the average american woman's spunk and refused to give it. for a few minutes it looked as if diplomatic relations between japan and america might be seriously cracked, if not broken; for the japanese officer had no sense of humor. that is one of the chief defects of the japanese police and military system. it has no sense of humor. it takes itself too seriously. it does not know how to laugh. to the eight or ten americans in the party the whole matter was a huge joke and we admired the spunk of the bishop's wife, but the poor japanese police officer was facing what he thought was an international problem. need it be said that the whole matter was finally settled to the entire satisfaction; not of the japanese officer, but to the entire satisfaction of the bishop's wife. * * * * * a friend of mine who happens to be in business in the orient got so tried of being interviewed, trailed, and made to answer innumerable questions about his mother, grandmother, etc., that one day on landing in yokohama, in a spirit of fun, he answered the officer's questions in this manner: "how old are you?" "thirty-six." "have you a family?" "yes." "how many children?" "three." "how old are they?" "one is thirty-eight, one forty, and one forty-five." "what is your occupation?" "commander-in-chief of the greenland navy." "what are you doing in japan?" "getting a cargo of ice to take back to greenland." after satisfying his appetite for information, the japanese police officer departed to make his reports, while the young american went to his hotel with a grin all over his face. while he was eating his dinner that evening suddenly the japanese officer appeared in the dining room with a big smile on his face and walked over to where the american sat with a group of friends. as he approached the american's table he said with a grin, "you american! i know! you american!" "how did you guess it, my friend?" "you make me one tam fool!" he said holding out the report. * * * * * some of the most laughable things that one sees in the orient are the japanese signs translated into english by some japanese merchant who has picked up a dash of english here and there. one such sign which caused a lot of amusement was that of a tailor who was trying to cater to american tourist trade. he had, evidently, also had some contact with the spiritual phraseology of the missionaries. he had painted on a big sign: "buy our pance! they fit you better and they warm your legs like the love of god!" perhaps the most exhilaratingly humorous thing that the japanese have perpetrated on the koreans was a list of advices printed and posted all over korea by the police department as to the regulation of fords: rules! . at the rise of hand of policeman, stop rapidly. do not pass him by or otherwise disrespect him. . when a passenger of the foot hove in sight, tootle the horn trumpet to him melodiously at first. if he still obstacles your passage, tootle him with vigor and express by word of the mouth the warning, "hi, hi." . beware of the wandering horse that he shall not take fright as you pass him. do not explode the exhaust box at him. go soothingly by, or stop by the roadside till he gently pass away. . give big space to the festive dog that make sport in the roadway. avoid entanglement of dog with your wheel spokes. . go soothingly on the grease-mud, as there lurk the skid-demon. press the brake of the foot as you roll around the corners to save the collapse and tie-up. . number of people you put in the ford: you put two in the front house and three in the back house. there were other rules but this list will be sufficient as a flash-light of fun to give some idea of the ridiculous way in which the average japanese twists the ideas and phraseology of english in the translations. i saw one great sign which brought a smile. it was up on the island of hokkaido. it had printed in large english letters: "get your mother's milk here!" below that sentence there was a picture of a cow which looked as much like a combination of an elephant and a camel as anything i know. the artist must have been a wonder. attached to each of the cow's udders were long lines of hose that ran for about ten feet across a big bill-board. at the end of each line of hose was a nipple, like our american baby-nipples. at the end of each nipple there was a man-sized baby pulling away at the nipple. it was one of the funniest advertising signs i ever saw. i watched several americans look up at it and every one of them laughed aloud. and the funny thing about it was that it was intended to be a serious advertising sign. * * * * * at a banquet given in the imperial hotel in tokyo one of the most side-splitting incidents happened unintentionally that ever happened at any banquet anywhere. one of the sons of a great japanese business man was speaking. the banquet was in honor of a well-known college president from america who had come to take up work in the orient. this banquet was to welcome him officially to japan. one of the speakers, sitting beside mr. uchida, the foreign minister, had been a student in america where this man was formerly the college president and he was trying to make the crowd see how happy he was to welcome the president to japan. he did it in the following language as nearly as i can remember it: "i feel like a cartoon i see in your peculiar paper--what you call him--_puck_? _judge_? no--he bin in that peculiar paper, _life_? that was he. "this picture; he shows two dogs talking to each other. "one dog he a great, what you call him--coolie? pug? yes, he was a scottish coolie. the other was a little wee dog; a pugnacious dog, i think you call him. "the little dog he have his tail all done up in the bandages. "the big dog say, 'little dog, for why you have your tail all bandaged up like that? you have an accident?' "'no,' say the little dog, 'but my master, he just come home from france, and i am so glad to see him i bin wagging my tail all day long until it get broke and i have to have him wrapped up like this.'" then the speaker turned dramatically--with the deepest sense of seriousness; without a trace of a smile on his face, without a glimmer of consciousness of the fact that the americans at that banquet were biting their teeth to keep from bursting into laughter; and with a grand flourish, pointed to the american dignitary and said, "i feel just like that little dog. i so glad to see dr. ---- come to japan that i have been wagging my tail all day long." but he got no further. the american crowd; full-dressed, and full of dignity as it was; exploded. that speech was too much, even for the sake of international courtesy, to expect such a crowd to hold in. fortunately most of the educated japanese there saw the joke and joined in the laugh. * * * * * we had a funny experience in a dining car on a japanese train coming from northern japan down to tokyo one evening. a well-dressed japanese in a rich kimono sat drinking heavily at a table a few feet from us. suddenly he looked up and yelled "silence!" looking directly at us. it was so sudden and so funny that i laughed. this made the japanese gentleman angry. then he let forth a more extended english sentence. later we figured that it was the only sentence in english that he knew, and that he had learned that sentence by sitting at the feet of some stern, english teacher who had occasion to reiterate that sentence frequently. this drunken japanese looked at me sternly for laughing and said, "silence! all gentlemen must be silent!" this was too much for my sense of humor and i laughed again. "silence! all gentlemen must be silent!" he yelled a third time. "we must get away from him; or we'll get into trouble. i can't keep from laughing when he repeats that," i said to dr. goucher. we all moved back to another table, but dr. goucher sat by himself at a little table. this moving, insulted the drunken japanese and he came back to where dr. goucher sat and leered into his face yelling once again, "all gentlemen must be silent!" at this one of the party jumped to the side of dr. goucher and took the japanese by the shoulder and turned him around and said, "go! sit down, fool!" the train was whirling through the night. there were mutterings and imprecations among the japanese and we thought that they were directed toward us; but a missionary who could understand the language, said that the whole crowd of japanese was severely reprimanding the drunken japanese for insulting foreigners. they told him in japanese phrases that he ought to be ashamed of insulting foreigners in his own country. about five minutes after this he suddenly left his seat, came staggering down the aisle of the car with a plate full of big red apples and offered an apple to each one of us as a peace offering. we got to calling him, in our party "old mr. 'all gentlemen must be silent!'" and he came to be a real character in our fun. but one morning a month later as we were all boarding a train in fusan, korea, bound for seoul, who should be sitting in the car but "old mr. 'all gentlemen must be silent.'" this time he was in american clothes. we had a japanese friend with us. we told this friend about the incident on the train in northern japan and asked him who the man was. "why that is a member of the house of lords and he is going up to korea representing the diet to make a report on the korean outrages," we were told. another month passed and i was coming back from seoul, korea, to tokio, japan, when i suddenly ran into our old friend "all gentlemen must be silent!" this time he was drunk again, and sitting in a japanese dining car with the same kimono on that he had worn the first time we saw him. he saw me enter the car. i tried to avoid him, but he was not to let this opportunity for international courtesy go by unnoticed and unimproved. so, much to my delight and surprise, he arose, and made a low bow. i bowed back. he made another bow until his nose almost touched the car. i made a return bow. he made a third one. i followed suit. he made a fourth. i made a fourth, although i was beginning to feel dizzy and my insides were beginning to complain. i wondered when the thing would stop. i thought of a hundred fat men i had seen on a gymnasium floor trying to do the same thing and touch the floor with their hands. i knew that there was a limit to my endurance in a test of this kind. he bowed five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten times, and i bowed back. i could see things whirling around me. "blame it, why doesn't he stop some time!" i said to myself. i was desperate. then suddenly i looked at him and he looked at me and he said, with great dignity, "all gentlemen must be silent!" and sat down, with his friends and his wines. i don't know whether he realized how funny it was or not. i don't know whether he even knew what he was saying in his drunken condition, but i do know that when i got out of that car into the vestibule i had the laugh of my life. a japanese woman came by, smiled at me and i am sure said to herself: "ah, these americans they are all crazy!" * * * * * the last flash-light of fun is a picture from the philippines. i have spoken in the chapter on "flash-lights of faith" of the trip to the negrito tribe, but in that chapter i did not speak of the desperate adventure of the trip back down the jungle trail to civilization after the experience with the old man. for the second time on that memorable day i dropped in my tracks with a sunstroke. my legs refused to move. my muscles were congested with waste matter and evidently my brain was also. when i returned to consciousness i saw lying beside me mr. huddleston, an old missionary who had been in the philippines for many years. across from, him was a naked negrito who was acting as our guide. i looked up in a tree above us and saw what i thought was a group of monkeys. "look at the monkeys!" i said to the missionary. "there are no monkeys in that tree!" he said. that made me angry. my mind was affected by the sun to such an extent that i had an insane desire to grab the bolo of the negrito guide out of his belt and run it through the missionary. i made a determined mental effort to do so, but my arm would not work. i strove as one strives in a dream when he is trying to run away from some imagined danger and his feet are tied down. if i could have gotten my hands on that bolo i would have run it through the missionary without a minute's hesitation. but my mind was detracted from this thought by two large elephants which i suddenly saw running down the path on which we were lying. i yelled aloud! "the elephants! they will trample us man! look! there they come!" i cried pointing up the trail on which we were lying. "why you're plumb crazy man! you've missed too many boats! that sun's got you! there are no elephants on this trail!" "but i know elephants when i see them!" i cried and tried to roll out of the trail but again found it impossible to make my brain and my muscles coordinate. it was a terrible moment to me. "my god man! are you crazy! i know elephants when i see them. they're right on us now! help me out of here! i can't move!" "i tell you there are no elephants and there are no monkeys in these islands. i've been here twenty years or more!" "but i know elephants when i see them!" but just at that moment a much greater danger confronted us, for i saw three tigers leap out of the jungle and start after the two elephants; right down the trail toward us. then i knew that we were as good as dead. i yelled: "tigers! tigers! they are running after the elephants! they are on top of us!" the fool of a missionary laughed aloud, as he lay on the trail and said, "plumb crazy! plumb crazy! sun's got him! sun's got him!" "sun's got who, fool? the elephants and tigers will kill us in about a minute!" but just then something happened which upset my calculations and made me have a feeling that--after all--perhaps the old missionary was right--for suddenly those two elephants; being too closely pursued by the tigers; nonchalantly flew into the air like two great birds, and lighted in the tree over our heads where i thought the monkeys were. if those elephants hadn't started to fly; i should still be arguing with the missionary; but as it turned out; i shut my fool mouth and decided that the missionary was right and that i had "missed too many boats." chapter viii flash-lights of freedom "self-determination!" that phrase has set the whole world on fire! "independence!" that word somehow has awakened the oriental world; awakened that mass of humanity as it has never been awakened before. korea perhaps has thrilled to this awakening as no other section of the orient or the near and far east. india's millions are restless; the filipino is hungry for independence although he is loyal to the united states; but korea has the matter set in its heart like adamant. this determination will never be broken; korea will never be conquered by japan! this dream of complete and full independence is buried in the souls of the children, as well as in the souls of the brave women, and of the old men of korea. "it is one of the most thrilling things i have ever seen in the orient!" said a man on the editorial staff of _millard's weekly_. "it is the most significant outcome of the war; korea's passion for independence, and the student movement in china!" i said to a business man of california who had traveled all over the orient and who had been sent as part of the commission that prepared the way for the abandonment of the picture bride custom, "what is the most significant thing you have seen in the orient?" "the determination of the koreans for self-determination!" was his quick reply. "will they get it?" "it is inevitable in time!" he responded, and then he added: "why the little rascals; the children, i mean; paint the korean flags on their brown bellies, because the japanese gendarmes will not allow them to display the korean flag in public!" and he laughed aloud at the memory. "have you seen korean kiddies with flags painted on their stomachs?" "dozens of them. they like to show them to americans," he said. a week later i was walking with a korean missionary and asked him if what the business man from california had told me about the children was true and he said, "wait until we find a group of them." we waited for only a few minutes when we ran into a crowd coming home from school. a friendly smile and a low-voiced "mansei" got attention. then we pointed to our own stomachs. in a flash they caught on to what we wanted and, looking around cautiously, each little rascal untied his robe and there, sure enough was the flag of his country painted on his stomach. "that is one of the most thrilling sights i have seen in the orient!" i said with tears in my eyes. "if the children of the land feel that way, korea will never be conquered!" "the american understands! the american understands!" one of the little bright-eyed boys said to the missionary in korean. * * * * * a missionary was teaching a class of koreans about heaven. a little hand shot up. the missionary nodded that the child could speak. "will there be any japs in heaven?" this was a baffling question; for diplomatic destinies were at stake. but missionaries are usually honest, so she said, "yes, if they are good japs!" "then i don't want to go!" said the little eight-year-old korean with emphasis. another teacher was telling a class in geography to draw a map of the orient. one korean child said, "do we have to put in that little group of islands east of the coast of china?" i met one korean whom i had known in america. he was educated in the american universities. he was in every sense of the word a gentleman and an intellectual. he told me that the older children of his family had taught the nine-months-old baby to raise its hands in the air above its head whenever the word "mansei" was spoken. i got an electrical shock of patriotism the day i saw that tiny child lift its little arms above its head when that sacred word was spoken. it was like a benediction of freedom! "this posture of the child is more significant," said mr. ----, "when you know that the most cruel method of torture that the japanese use is that of stretching a man, woman or child up by the thumbs to the ceiling with his toes just touching the floor." in that same posture of torture koreans rise to their toes when they give their national cry of "mansei" for all the world like an american student giving his college yell. "it means life and death to give that cry as you know," said this intelligent korean. "then what will your children do when they grow a bit older and go out on the streets and yell this cry?" i asked this intelligent father. "be killed, no doubt, by some ignorant, ruthless japanese gendarme!" he said with finality. "then you should not allow them to teach its tiny lips that word!" i said. "i would rather my child were dead than to have it forget that cry!" in this same family one sunday afternoon a two-year-old child was sleeping on a mat. the father and mother were reading some american papers sent them by their old college friends in the united states. suddenly that little two-year-old sat straight up in its mat bed, lifted its arms in the air and shouted "mansei! mansei! mansei!" three times and then dropped back to sleep as if nothing had happened. "how did you feel?" i asked my korean friend. "it made me cry. i said to my wife 'as long as korea has babies with that in their little souls before they are two years of age, korea will never be assimilated by japan!'" the children of korea look up at the ceiling when a japanese teacher enters a room. they are compelled to have japanese teachers; even in the mission schools. the children refuse to do anything for a japanese teacher. one day a japanese teacher thought that he would break that mood by telling a funny story. he told it with skill. but not a child laughed, although one of them said to her father that night, "it was hard not to laugh for it was a very funny story!" "who tells you to do these things; you students? who teaches you to treat your japanese teachers in that manner?" my korean friend asked his six-year-old child. "nobody tells us; we just do it ourselves! all the children hate the japanese!" he replied with the wisdom of a grown man. all over korea we saw korean flags cut in walls, carved on stones, and against excavations where the sand was impressionable to little fingers and sticks. i took many photographs of these unconventional flags. there is one instance where korean children went on a strike just at commencement time. it meant that they would not get their diplomas but that was just the reason they did it: to show their contempt for japanese diplomas. japanese authorities begged them to return to school. finally on commencement day they decided to return. something had happened. it was a day of rejoicing among the japanese so they invited a lot of japanese officers to the commencement exercises. the diplomas were given, to each boy; the japanese teachers bowing, and smiling in their peculiar way. then a thirteen-year-old korean boy stepped to the front to make the address of thanks. he made a beautiful speech of thanks. the japanese teachers were bowing with delight. but the boy's speech was not finished. he paused toward the end, threw back his blouse, lifted his proud head and said, "i have only this one thing further to add." he knew the seriousness of what he was about to do. he knew that it would possibly mean death to him and his relatives. "we want but one thing of you japanese. you have given us education, and you have given us these diplomas. the teachers have been good to us." then he reached in his blouse and pulled out a korean flag. to have one in one's possession is a crime in korea in the judgment of the japanese. waving it above his little head he cried, "give us back our country! may korea live a thousand years! mansei! mansei! mansei!" at that signal every boy in that school jumped to his feet, whipped out a korean flag and frantically waved it in the air, weeping and yelling in wild abandonment to the faith and courage of freedom in their hearts! then they tore their diplomas up before the horrified and angered japanese teachers. the result was a great student demonstration for freedom; which was broken up by a force of japanese gendarmes with drawn swords; but not before the shooting of many boys and girls; and not before over four hundred girls and boys were thrown into prison; some of them never to emerge. in the chapter on "flash-lights of faith" i told the story of the seventy-five-year-old korean who unflinchingly faced the japanese gendarmes and admitted that he knew the source from which the independence movement had come; and knew the signers of the declaration personally; every one of them. this spirit burns in the heart of, not only the babies of korea but also in the souls of the white haired stately patriarchs. one old man who was dumb had his own way of expressing his patriotism when "mansei" was yelled. he always lifted his arms above his head. he could not speak but he could yell with his arms! this placed the japanese authorities in the ridiculous position of arresting a dumb man for yelling "mansei!" they tortured him for months. he was told that he would be released if he would promise never to lift his hands above his head again. he could not speak in answer to their demands. they waited. suddenly he caught their meaning. they were trying to frighten him from giving vent to his only method of showing his patriotism. his eyes flashed fire. he leapt to his feet with a contemptuous look at his japanese captors. then like flashing piston rods of steel his arms shot into the air above his head three times, shouting in their mute patriotism, "mansei! mansei! mansei!" nor are the women void of this determination for freedom. it beats in their brave hearts. it is a great flame in their souls as well as in the hearts of the children and men of the peninsula. "the soul's armor is never set well to heart unless a woman's hand has braced it, and it is only when she braces it loosely that the honor of manhood fails!" says robert mckenna in "the adventure of life." if that is a true definition of the strength of honor and the desire for freedom then the armor of the korean men is well set. sauci, a young korean girl was under arrest. she was just a school girl and very beautiful; with dark brown eyes; skin the color of a walnut; and a form, bred of the grace of her much walking race. she had walked the innumerable trails of her native land from babyhood and the rhythmic swing of her supple body would have made any race, save that of her conquerors, reverent with admiration. sauci was too much for her japanese captors. the japanese guard struck her across the mouth with a whip. "that doesn't hurt me. that is the grace of god. i don't hate you for that blow!" said sauci. this angered the jap and he struck her again. this stroke left a streak of blood across her face. sauci said again, "that doesn't hurt me. that is the grace of god. i do not hate you for striking me!" the gendarme was furious. his anger was like that of a beast. he flew at her blindly, and struck, struck, struck her woman's body until he was exhausted. a few days later when she was recovering from that brutal beating, a high official of the japanese gendarme force came to see her. "sauci," said he to her, recognizing her for an intelligent korean girl, "why do not the koreans like us?" she replied, "i had a dream last night here in the cell. that will tell you why. in my dream a visitor came to our home and stayed for dinner. then instead of going home, the visitor stayed all night. then the visitor stayed two or three days. then two or three months. then two or three years. we were surprised but were too polite to say anything. "but finally the visitor got to telling us how to run our house." "how?" asked the japanese official, "did the visitor tell you how to run your house?" "the visitor," replied sauci, "told us that he didn't like our wall paper. 'i think you had better get new paper!' he said. 'i do not like your clothes and your schools. wear clothes like mine, and have schools like mine. i do not like your way of talking. learn my language!' "so finally we got tired of our visitor and said, 'please go home! we do not like you! we do not want you! please go home!'" "but what has that to do with us?" said the japanese official. "why in a few days the visitor in my dream went home!" said sauci simply. "and in a few years the japanese will go back home also!" such is the courageous spirit of the korean women. * * * * * one day an american friend of mine had gone to the police station with a young korean girl who had been summoned to appear on what was called a "rearrest charge." for the japanese feel perfectly free to rearrest a person even after that person has been proven innocent of a charge. a korean may be rearrested any time. he can never feel free. this young, educated girl had been subjected to such indignities on her previous arrest as i would not be able to describe in this book; so she begged the woman friend to go with her. as she entered the station a rough, ignorant japanese officer snarled at her as she passed, "hello! are you here again? i thought you were still in prison!" when he had gone from the room the korean girl said to the american woman, "that man beat me for ten hours one day the last time i was in prison!" "why did he beat you?" asked the missionary. "he was trying to compel me to give him the names of those girls who belonged to the 'woman's league'." "and you would not tell him their names?" "i would rather have been beaten to death than give him their names!" "thank god for your courage!" said the missionary, for she had seen the girl's body when she had gotten out of prison; the burns of cigarette stumps all over her beautiful skin; the scars, the whip marks; the desecrations. when i was told this story, amid the tears of the narrator, an american college woman, she concluded with fire in her soul: "i have never seen such courage on the part of women in all my life! even mere girls and children have it. most of those who are arrested come out of our american missionary schools. there isn't a one of them who doesn't have in her soul the spirit of joan of arc. if france had one joan of arc, korea has ten thousand!" one young girl of whom i heard was kept in prison under constant torture for six months. and a cruel imprisonment it is. i visited this prison myself one winter day when i was in korea. the thermometer was at zero; the snow covered the ground, and there wasn't a fire in a single room in that prison save where the japanese guards were staying, and they were huddled around a roaring coal stove. and this is the show prison of the whole peninsula. the japanese take visitors through it. but to an american even it is fit only for the darkness of the middle ages. in its limited quarters i saw ten and fifteen young girls, sweet faced, cultured, educated school girls, huddled together in narrow rooms, without a single chair, so closely packed that they were seated on the floor like bees in a hive. after six months of this awful life the girl of whom i speak was about to be released. the guard questioned her. "now what are you going to do?" her answer came, quick as a shot, although she knew that it would send her back to the hell from which she was about to be released. "it is either liberty for korea or we die!" she said. and in three minutes, beaten, and dragged on the ground by the hair she was thrown into the cell from which she had been taken; to rot and die as far as the japanese were concerned. another girl who had been kept in jail days without even a charge having been preferred against her was released. her old mother came to meet her and while in seoul the mother attended an independence meeting for women. the whole crowd of women then went to the police station and shouted "mansei"! the mother was arrested and cruelly beaten in spite of her seventy-five years of age. when they were through beating her they said, "now will you refrain from yelling, 'mansei!'" "never!" said this old woman. then they took a bar of iron and beat her over the legs until she dropped. "now will you refrain from yelling 'mansei?'" the old woman was weak, but in a low, painful whisper said, "the next time the women come to yell, if i am able to walk i will be with them!" another old woman was brought to prison for yelling "mansei!" when they asked her why she yelled "mansei" she answered in a sentence that sums up the entire spirit that is in the woman-heart of korea. "i have only one word in my head and that is 'mansei!'" i personally, one day in korea, saw the japanese gendarmes come for a korean girl. she was one of the most popular girls in the american methodist missionary school. it was the common custom for japanese officials to come and take korean girls out of these schools, without warning, without warrants, without words, and carry them off to prison. often the girl was not even permitted to say good-by to her american teachers or to write a word to her parents. "they are not even permitted to supply themselves with toilet articles," said the matron to me that day. on this day, six big, brutal, ugly faced, animal-like japanese officers came for this beautiful girl. the missionary women wept as the girl was dragged away. the girl waved good-by. it was a sight never to be forgotten; one of those flash-lights of freedom, which burned its way into my soul with the hot acid of indignation. this injustice and indecency in the treatment of a pure girl made my blood run hot in my veins. the look on her face i shall never forget. it was such a look as the martyrs of old must have had when they died for their faith. "good-by! good-by! give my love to mary and elizabeth!" she cried to the missionary woman standing by, helpless to assist her. these two names were children of the missionary home; children whom this korean girl had learned to love as she lived in this american home. "and the awful thing about it all, is," said the missionary to me as they took the girl away, "that, as pure as that girl is, as pure as a flower, she will be taken to a prison fifty miles from seoul, kept there under torture for six months, and she will not be allowed to see her friends. they will not even allow us to visit her. she may be undressed and spat upon by men who are lower than animals. she may suffer even worse than that----" then the american missionary woman fainted. that flash-light may be duplicated a hundred times in korea. "the woman of korea suffers as much as the man. but thank god they do not flinch!" said an american missionary. the japanese gendarmes have forbidden the singing of several of the great church hymns in mission churches because they insist that these are hymns of freedom; that they foment what the japanese call "dangerous ideas." japanese spies have reported certain seoul methodist churches for singing hymns that, to their way of thinking, were directed against the japanese government. this particular illustration of the peculiar workings of the japanese mind might have been included in the chapter on flash-lights of fun; were it not for the fact that the japanese officers themselves call these old church hymns "hymns of freedom." the japanese are just as much afraid of these "dangerous thoughts" in japan as they are in korea. a good illustration of this fear is the fact that a certain picture corporation of america called "the liberty film company" sent several films to japan. the government would not allow these pictures to be shown until that word "liberty" was cut from the film. certain japanese spies reported a mission church in seoul for singing "rock of ages." "but why may we not sing 'rock of ages'?" asked the american preacher in charge. "because it starts off with 'mansei!'" replied the officer. he interpreted the thought of "rock of ages" to be a direct imputation that the japanese government was not able to take care of the koreans and that they were flying to some other protecting power. "it would be funny if it were not so serious!" said a missionary to me one day in seoul. later they stopped the churches from singing "nearer my god to thee," because there seemed to be an implication in that, that those who sang that hymn, were swearing allegiance to a higher power than that of japan. "ridiculous! absolutely ridiculous!" i said in disgust. "yes, ridiculous, but serious," replied the missionary, "when you have to live with it year in and year out." "crown him lord of all," insisted the japanese spies, when they seriously reported a certain church for singing that old hymn was "dangerous thought." it seemed to this ignorant spy that "crowning him" was putting some other power before that of the japanese government. "all hail the power of jesus' name" has been put under the ban and when a certain missionary woman was asked to sing at the korean y.m.c.a. and announced that she was going to sing "oh, rest in the lord" she was advised not to sing it because it was considered by the gendarmes to be "dangerous thought" and to suggest "liberty," "freedom" and such dangerous words and ideas. when one protestant preacher prayed about "casting out devils" he was reported by japanese spies, who insisted that he was talking about japanese in korea and meant that these should be cast out of the land. "'it is to laugh!' as the french say!" i responded to this story. "no! it is to weep!" said the american missionary. when dr. frank w. schoefield spoke against prostitution the japanese papers declared that he had made a virulent attack on the government. one korean preacher who preached on a theme from luke : , which reads "setting the captives free," was arrested and kept in jail for four days. "it is very foolish to yell 'mansei' when you know you will be killed," i said to a korean preacher. i wanted to see how he would take that suggestion. "we koreans would rather be under the ground than on top of it if we do not get our liberty!" he said with a thrill in his quiet voice. one day a korean preacher was arrested for preaching on the theme, "seek ye first the kingdom of god and all these things shall be added unto you," because that was, without doubt, disloyal to japan and meant rebellion. another day a speaker in the y.m.c.a. said, "arise and let us build for the new age!" he was asked to report to police headquarters just what he meant by that kind of "dangerous" talk about freedom. chapter ix flash-lights of failure three great flash-lights of failure stand out in the far east and the oriental world to-day; one being the failure of a race to survive, another being the failure of the world to understand that shantung is the holy land and not the appendix of china; this sacred shrine of the chinese which has so carelessly and listlessly been given over to japan; and the third being japan's failure to understand that methods of barbarism from the dark ages will not work in a modern civilization. "why are they making all this fuss over shantung?" an acquaintance of mine said to me just before i left america. "isn't it just a sort of an appendix of china, after all? if i were the chinese, i'd forget shantung and go on to centralize and develop what i had." that was glibly said, but the fact which the statement leaves out of reckoning is that shantung is the very heart and soul of china instead of being the appendix. the average american has so often thought of china just as china; a great, big, indefinite, far-off nation of four hundred million people, always stated in round numbers, that shantung doesn't mean much to us. yes, but it means much to china. it means about the same as if some nation should come along and take new england from us; new england, the seat of all our most sacred history, the beginning of our national life, the oldest of our traditions, the burial-place of our early founders, the seat of our religious genesis. i don't believe that many folks in new england would desire to be called an appendix of the united states. so one of the things that i was determined to do when i went to china was to go from one end of shantung to the other, talking with coolies, officials, old men and young men, students, and those who can neither read nor write; missionaries and soldiers; natives and foreigners; to see just what importance shantung is to china as a whole. the first thing i discovered was that it has about forty million people living within the limits of the peninsula, close to half the population of the united states. does that sound as if it might be china's appendix? you wouldn't think so if you saw the cities, roads and fields of this great stretch of land literally swarming with human beings, and every last one of them, as busy as ants. i rode one whole day across the peninsula. i happened to be traveling with a man from kansas. he was a man interested in farming and wheat-growing. for hundreds of miles we had been passing through land that was absolutely level and every inch of it cultivated. i had been saying to myself over and over again, "why, it's exactly like our middle west country." then much to my astonishment this kansas man turned to me, and said, "did it ever occur to you that these fields of shantung look just like kansas?" "yes, it has just occurred to me this minute," i responded. then the wife of the kansas man said, "i have been shutting my eyes and trying to imagine that i was in kansas, it's so much like home." "and say, man, but a tractor on those fields would work wonders," added a portion of william allen white's reading constituency. and that is exactly how shantung strikes an american when he has ridden all day through its great stretches of level fields. he can easily imagine himself riding through kansas for a day. my first visit to shantung was at tsingtao, the headquarters of the german concession and now of the japanese concession. i spent a day there, and took photographs of the wharves and town. on the wharves were still standing hundreds of boxes marked with german names and the inevitable phrase "made in germany." those boxes were mute reminders of the evacuation of one nation from a foreign soil. but standing side by side with these boxes were also other hundreds, already being shot into shantung in a steady stream; and these boxes have a new trademark printed in every case in english and japanese, "made in japan." i spent several days in tsinanfu and tientsin, two great inland cities, and more than a week in cruising about through shantung's little towns, its villages and its sacred spots. i heard of its mines and of its physical wealth. but the world already knows of that. the world already knows that this physical wealth of mines and raw material was what made it look good to germany and japan. but the thing that impressed me was its spiritual wealth. the thing that makes shantung attractive to the japanese, of course, is not the spiritual wealth, as the world well knows. perhaps the japanese have never considered the latter any more than the germans did; but the one thing that makes it most sacred to the chinese, who are, after all, a race of idealists, is its treasuries of spiritual memories and shrines. in the first place, many chinese will tell you that it is the "cradle of the chinese race." i am not sure that histories will confirm this statement. and i am also not sure that that makes any difference as long as the idea is buried in the heart of the chinese people. a tradition often means as much to a race as a fact. and the tradition certainly is well established that shantung is the birthplace of all chinese history. so that is one of the deeply rooted spiritual facts that makes shantung sacred to the chinese. the second spiritual gold mine is that one of its cities, chufu, is the birthplace and the last resting-place of the sage confucius. and china is literally impregnated with confusian philosophy and confucian sayings. i took a trip to this shrine in order to catch some of the spiritual atmosphere of the shantung loss. the trip made it necessary to tramp about fifteen miles coming and going through as dusty a desert as i ever saw, but that was a trifle compared with the thrill that i had as i stood at last before the little mound about as high as a california bungalow; the mound that held the dust of this great chinese sage. during the war i stood before the grave of napoleon in france. before i went to france i visited grant's tomb. i have also stood many times beside a little mound in west virginia, the resting-place of my mother, and i think that i know something of the sacredness of such experiences to a human heart, but somehow the thrill that came to me on that january morning, warm with sunlight, spicy with winter cold, produced a feeling too deep for mere printed words to convey. "if we feel as we do standing here on this sacred spot, think of how the chinese feel toward their own sage!" said an old missionary of the party. "yes," added another, "and remember that the chinese revere their ancestors and their sages and their shrines more than we ever dream of doing. any grave is a sacred spot to them, so much so that railroads have to run their trunk lines for miles in a detour to avoid graves. these chinese are idealists of the first water. they live in the past, and they dream of the future." "when you get these facts into your american heads," added a third member of the party, not without some bitterness, "then you will begin to know that the chinese do not estimate the loss of shantung in terms of mineral wealth." at chufu, the resting-place of confucius, there is also the spot of his birth, and this too is most sacred to the chinese nation. we visited both places. i think that i never before quite realized just what the loss of shantung meant to these chinese until that day, unless it was the next day, when we climbed the sacred mountain taishan, which is also in shantung. "it is the oldest worshiping-place in the world," said the historian of the party. "there is no other spot on earth where continuous worship has gone on so long. here for more than twenty centuries before christ was born men and women were worshiping. emperors from the oldest history of china down to the present time have all visited this mountain to worship. confucius himself climbed the more than six thousand steps to worship here." "yes," said another missionary historian, "and this mountain is referred to twelve separate times in the chinese classics, and great pilgrimages were made here as long ago as two centuries before christ." that day we climbed the mountain up more than six thousand stone steps, which are in perfect condition and which were engineered thousands of years ago by early worshipers. the only climb with which i can compare that of mt. taishan is that of mt. tamalpais overlooking san francisco. the climb is about equal to that. the mountain itself is about a mile in height, and the climb is a hard one to those who are unaccustomed to mountain-climbing, and yet thousands upon thousands climb it every year after pilgrimages from all over china. we climbed to the top of taishan, and saw the "no-character stone" erected by emperor chin, he who tried to drive learning out of china hundreds of years ago. we saw the spot on which confucius stood, and glimpsed the pacific ocean, ninety miles away, on a clear day. it was a hard climb; but, when one stood on the top of this, the most sacred mountain of all china, he began to understand the spiritual loss that is china's when her worshiping-place is in the hands of aliens. "and don't forget that mencius, the first disciple of confucius, was born and died in shantung, too, when you are taking census of the spiritual values of shantung to the chinese," was a word of caution from the old missionary who was checking up on my facts for me. he had been laboring in china for a quarter of a century. "and don't forget that the boxer uprising originated in shantung, and don't forget that it is called, and has been for centuries, 'the sacred province' by the chinese. it is their 'holy land.' and don't forget that, from shantung, coolies went to south africa in the early part of this century and that the chinese from shantung were the first to get in touch with the western world. and don't forget that nine-tenths of the coolies who went to help in the war in france were from shantung!" he added with emphasis. this was a thing that i well knew, for i had, only a few weeks before this, seen two thousand coolies unloaded from the _empress of asia_ at tsingtao. no, shantung is not an appendix of china, as many americans suppose; but it is the very heart and soul of china. it is china's "holy land." it is the "cradle of china." it is the "sacred province of china." it is the shrine of her greatest sage. it is the home of "the oldest worshiping-place on earth." it is because of its spiritual values that china is unhappy about the loss of shantung, and not because of its wealth of material things. the failure of the world to understand what shantung means to china and the failure of japan to understand that they cannot for many years stand out against the indignation of the entire world in continuing to keep shantung is one of the great spiritual failures of the far east in our century. the second great failure is the tragic failure of an entire race of people; that of the ainu indians of japan. it is a pathetic thing to see a human race dying out; coming to "the end of the trail." but i was determined to see them, in spite of the fact that people told me i would have to travel from one end of japan to the other; and then cross four hours of sea before i got to hokkaido, the most northern island of japan, where lived the tattered remnants of this once noble race. the name of this dying race is pronounced as if it were spelled i-new with a long i. these are the people who inhabited japan before the present japanese entered the land from korea and drove them, inch by inch, back and north and west across japan. it was a stubborn fight, and it has lasted many centuries; but to-day they have been driven up on the island of hokkaido, that northern frontier of japan where the overflow of japan is pouring at the rate of four thousand a year, making two million to date and only about fifty thousand of them ainus. "are they like our american indians in looks, since their history is so much like them?" i asked my missionary friend. "wait until you see them, and decide for yourself. i know very little about american indians." so one morning at three o'clock, after traveling for two days and nights from one end of japan to the other, and then crossing a strait between the japan sea and the pacific ocean to the island, we climbed from our train, and landed in a little country railroad station. it was blowing a blizzard, and the snow crashed into our faces with stinging, whip-like snaps. i was appointed stoker for the small stove in the station while the rest of the party tried to sleep on the benches arranged in a circle, huddled as close as they could get to the stove. we were the first party of foreigners of this size that had ever honored the village with a visit. and in addition to that we had come at an unearthly hour. who but a group of insane foreigners would drop into a town at three o'clock in the morning with a blizzard blowing? either we were insane, or we had some sinister motives. perhaps we were making maps of the seacoast. and before daylight half of the town was peeking in through the windows at us. then the policemen came. they were japanese policemen, and did not take any chances on us. even after our interpreter had told them that we were a group of scientists who had come to visit the ainus they still followed us around most of the morning, keeping polite track of our movements. about five o'clock that morning, as i was trying to catch a cat-nap, the newsboys of the village came to get the morning papers which had come in on the train on which we had arrived. they unbundled the papers in the cold station; their breath forming clouds of vapor; laughing and joking as they unrolled, folded and counted the papers; and arranged their routes for morning delivery. it took me back to boyhood days down in west virginia. i did the same thing as these japanese boys were doing. i, too, arose before daylight, climbed out of bed, and went whistling through the dark streets to the station where the early morning trains dumped off the papers from the city. i, too, along with several other american boys of a winter morning, breathed clouds of vapor into the air, stamped my feet to keep them warm, and whipped my hands against my sides. i, too, unwrapped the big bundles of papers, and did it in the same way in which these japanese boys did, by smashing the tightly bound wrappers on the floor until they burst. i, too, counted, folded, put in inserts, arranged my paper-route and darted out into the frosty air with the snow crunching under my feet. how universal some things are. the only difference was that these boys were dressed in a sort of buccaneer uniform. they had on high leather boots, and belts around their coats that made them look as if they had stepped out of a richard harding davis novel. but otherwise they went through the same processes as an american boy in a small town. when the vanguard of villagers had come to inspect us, they at first tried to talk russian to us. they had never seen any other kind of foreigners. they had never seen americans in this far-off island. when daylight came, we started out on a long tramp to the ainu villages. they were a mile or two away on the ocean. these people always build near the sea if they can. fishing is one of their main sources of food. we spent the day in their huts. they live like animals. a big, square hut covered with rice straw and thatch, with a fence of the same kind of straw running around the house, forms the residence. the only fire is in the middle of the only room, and this consists of a pile of wood burning on a flat stone or piece of metal in the center. there is no chimney in the roof, and not even an opening such as the american indians had in the tops of their tepees. i do not know how they live. the smoke finds its way gradually through cracks in the walls and roofs. one can hardly find a single ainu whose eyes are not ruined. the smoke has done this damage. the only opening in their houses besides the door is one north window, and it is never closed. in fact, there is no window. it is only an opening. "why is that? i'd think they would freeze on a day like this," i said to the guide. "they keep it that way all winter, and it gets a good deal below zero here," he said. "but why do they do it?" old shylock demanded. "it is part of their religion. they believe that the god comes in that window. they want it open, so that he can come in whenever he wishes. it offends them greatly when you stick your head through that window." pat tried it just to see what would happen, just like a man who looks into the barrel of a gun, or a man who takes a watch apart, or wants to hit a "dud" with a hammer just to see whether it is a dud. the result was bad. there was a sudden series of outlandish yells from the household. i think that every man, woman and child, including the dogs, of which there were many, started at once. i wonder now how pat escaped alive, and only under the assumption that "the good die young" can i explain his escape. i wanted some arrows to take to america as souvenirs; and, when an old indian pulled out a lot of metal arrows on long bows with which he had killed more than a hundred bears, i was not satisfied. they were not the kind of arrows i wanted. "what kind are you looking for?" i was asked. "flint arrow-heads," i responded. "why, man, these indians have known the use of metals for five hundred years. the stone age with them is half a thousand years in the past." "have they a history?" i wanted to know. my interpreter, who has much knowledge of these things, having worked among them for years, said, "all of the japanese mythology is centered about the battles that took place when these indians were driven out of japan proper step by step." i was surprised to find that they were white people compared with the japanese who were their conquerors. there are other marked differences. the ainus are broad between the eyes instead of narrow as are the japanese. they are rather square-headed like americans as compared with the oval of the japanese face. they do not have markedly slant eyes, and they are white-skinned. they might feel at home in any place in america. i have seen many old men at home who look like them, old men with beards. this came as a distinct surprise to me. at each house, just in front of the ever-open window of which i have spoken, there is a little crude shrine. it is more like a small fence than anything that i know, a most crude affair made of broken bamboo poles. flowers and vines are planted here to beautify this shrine, and every pole has a bear-skull on it. the more bear-skulls you have, the safer you are and the more religious you have become. pat was sacrilegious enough to steal a skull in order to get the teeth, which he wanted as souvenirs. i was chagrined and shocked at pat's lack of religious propriety. however, i was enticed into accepting one of the teeth after pat had knocked them out and stolen them. "how do they worship bears and kill them at the same time?" i queried the guide. "that's a part of the worship. they kill the bear, slowly singing and chanting as they kill him. they think that the spirit of every bear that they kill comes into their own souls. that's why they kill so many. that seventy-year-old rascal over there has killed a hundred. he is a great man in his tribe." "if i was a bear," commented pat, "i'd rather they wouldn't worship me. that's a funny way to show reverence to a god. i'd rather be their devil and live than be their god and die." pat is sometimes loquacious. "they dance about the poor old bear as they kill him. one fellow will hurl an arrow into his side, and then cry out, 'o spirit of the great bear-god, come enter into me, and make me strong and brave like you! come, take up thine abode in my house! come, be a part of me! let thy strength and thy courage be my strength and my courage!'" "then," said the interpreter, "he hurls another arrow into him." "and what is mr. bear doing all that time?" "mr. bear is helpless. he is captured first in a trap, and then kept and fattened for the killing. he is tied to a tree during the killing ceremony." "all i gotta say is that they're darned poor sports," said flintlock with indignation. "they're poor sports not to give mr. bear a fighting chance." and old flintlock has voiced the sentiments of the entire party. everybody that was at the panama pacific international exposition will remember the magnificent statue of an indian there. this indian was riding a horse, and both were worn out and drooping. a spear which dragged on the ground in front of the pony was further evidence of the weariness of the horse and rider. the title of this fraser bronze was "the end of the trail," and it was intended to tell the story of a vanishing race, the american indians. but even more could that picture tell the story of the ainus of japan. "they will be entirely extinct in a quarter of a century," our guide said. "they are going fast. they used to be vigorous and militant, as japanese mythology shows. they were a fighting race. they built their houses by the sea. they used to go out for miles to fish, but now they are so petered out that they go only to the mouths of the rivers to fish. they used to hunt in the mountains, but they do not take hunting-trips any more. venereal diseases and rum (saki) have depleted them year by year, just as in the case of our american indians. they are largely sterile now. they used to build their own boats, but they build no more. it is a biological old age. their day is through." "it is a sad thing to see a race dying out," said pat. "especially a white race, as these ainus seem to be," said another member of the party. and back to the village we went silently, plodding through a driving blizzard that bore in upon us with terrific force. as we fought our way through this blizzard, i could not help feeling a great sense of depression. it is a fearful thing to see anything die, especially a race of human beings. that is a great epic tragedy worthy of a shakespeare. that is enough to wring the soul of the gods. that a race has played the game, has been powerful and conquering and triumphant, and then step by step has petered out and become weak and senile until biological decay has set in--that is fearful. another illustration of the ignominious failure of a lower type of mind to understand a higher type of mind is set forth in the following letter which was written at my request by a missionary whom i met in san francisco just as the final chapters of this book were being written. the first time i met this missionary was in seoul, korea. i have been told so many times that the cruelties in korea have been stopped. certain men said that they had been stopped immediately after the independence movement, but they were not stopped. at frequent intervals the american press is flooded with statements which come from japanese press sources that the outrages in korea have ceased. i said to this missionary, who had just arrived from korea, "is it true that the cruelties have stopped in korea?" "no! they have not stopped! they have not even diminished! they are getting worse, rather than better!" "would you be willing to write out, in your own handwriting, a few things that you know yourself which have occurred since i was in korea so that the book which i am writing may be accurate and up to date in its facts?" "i will be glad to do that for you! we who are missionaries dare not speak the truth!" "why?" "if we did the japanese government would never let us get back to our people!" "then you may talk through me, if you are willing to do it. i want the truth to get to the american people!" "i am not only willing but i am eager to talk!" said this missionary and wrote out the following story of cruelty against an educated and cultured korean, who was the religious and educational director in the seoul y.m.c.a. this story of the latest japanese barbarisms i pass on to the reader in this chapter to illustrate another ignominious hun failure to understand that the practices of the dark ages will not work in this century: "on may th, , just as mr. choi was coming out of his class room he was met by two detectives, one korean and one japanese, who informed him that he was wanted at the central police station. here he was turned over to the chief of police and thrown into a room and kept all day. mr. brockman and cynn both made several attempts to find out why he was arrested. each time they were given an evasive answer. finally mr. cynn insisted that they tell him the cause of the arrest. it was finally discovered that he was wanted in pyengyang on certain charges. he was to leave seoul that evening on the p.m. train. anxious to see how mr. choi was being treated, mr. cynn and several of the y.m.c.a. men went down to the station. mr. choi with the other six students were standing on the platform. apparently mr. choi was not bound as is the usual custom. closer observation, however, revealed the fact that his hands were bound with cords, but in his case the ropes were placed on the inside instead of the outside, of the clothes. he arrived in pyengyang the next day, may , at p.m. instead of taking mr. choi first they called in one of the students whose name is chai pony am. after the usual preliminary questions these inquisitors of the dark ages said, 'we know all about you everything you have done. there is no use for you to deny anything. you make a clean confession of everything.' mr. choi replied, 'i have done nothing. if i knew what you wanted, i would tell you.' more pressure was urged in the way of bombastic speech. finally the police said, 'if you won't tell of your own free will we will make you tell!' then the tortures, which the government published broadcast had been done away with, began. they brought out a round stool with four legs and laid it down on its side with the sharp legs up and made him strip naked. then they took the silken bands (about in. wide) and placing his hands behind his back until the shoulder blades touched begun bending the arm from the wrist very tight. this completed, they made him kneel upon the sharp edge of the legs of the stool with his shins. then they took the bamboo paddle (this is made of two strips of bamboo about in. wide and ft. long wound with cord) and begun beating him on the head, face, back, feet and thighs. every time they struck him his body would move and the movement cause the shins to rub on the sharp edges of the stool. to further increase the pain they took lighted cigarettes and burnt his flesh. this was continued until the student fainted and fell off. they then would restore the patient by artificial respiration and when he refused to confess, continued the torture. this process was continued for minutes and then the student was put into a dark cell and kept for three days. upon the third day he was again brought before these _just_ policemen and asked if he were ready to confess. said they, 'if you do not tell us this time we will kill you. you see how the waters of the tai pong (the river at pyengyang) wear smooth these stones. that is what we do with those who come in here. many have been killed in here. your life is not worth as much as a fly.' he was tortured in the same manner as before and then put back into the cell for another three days. this process was continued every three days for two weeks. "when mr. choi, the educational director of the y.m.c.a. was called in the police said, 'you are an educated gentleman and we propose to give you the gentleman's treatment. we do not want to treat you like ordinary men. now we want you to tell us what your thoughts have been and are. make a confession of anything you have done since march st, .' mr. choi said, 'what do you want me to confess? if you will give me a little time i will write you out something.' this they refused to do and said, 'since you refuse to tell us we will make you tell. we will treat you like all other dogs.' then they forcibly took off his clothes, and proceeded to bind him in the same manner as the previous student. after being bound he was placed on the stool and beaten. he did not lose his consciousness but fell off the stool, and then was placed back and the same process continued. when mr. choi fell off the stool the bands on his arms were loosened and they proceeded to unloosen and rewind his arms. this time they wound them tighter than before. at the ends of these bands are brass rings which are placed next to the flesh and made to press upon the nerves. this time mr. choi said as they wound his right arm he felt a sharp pain and at once noticed that he had lost the use of his arm. it was paralyzed. mr. choi was tortured five times in all--one every three days. the first torture lasted one hour and the succeeding ones were less severe than the first. at the end of two weeks, june th, mr. choi and the six students with him were called before a police captain who said to the students, 'there is nothing against you. some bad korean has testified falsely against you. we are sorry you have suffered but you can now go free.' however to mr. choi he said, 'you must remain here a week yet. you are still under police supervision. go to ---- hotel and stay.' on june th the police came to the hotel where he was staying and said, 'you may go down to seoul tonight.' mr. choi arrived in seoul on the th and gave this testimony. his arm is still paralyzed." and so it is that these great failures stand out: the failure of a race of people to survive; the failure of the american people to estimate the loss of shantung at its proper valuation spiritually, and the failure of japan to understand that korea is still and ever shall be _korea the unconquered_; this korea which i call "the wild boar at bay." chapter x flash-lights of friendship we were running down the samabs river in a small dutch ship, the _merkeus_. this river, running almost parallel to the equator, and not more than fifty miles away from that well-known institution, cuts the western end of borneo in two, and lends phenomenal fertility to its soil. shooting around a bend in the river, suddenly there loomed on the western shores, so close that we could throw a stone and hit it, a tree that was leafless, dead as a volcanic dump; but its dead branches literally swarmed with monkeys. the light in the west had so far gone that they appeared as silent silhouettes against the sunset their tails, which seemed to be about three feet long, and were curled at the ends, hung below the dead branches. one big fellow had perched himself on the tiptop of the tree, and in the dim light he looked like a human sentinel as his black outline appeared against the evening light. then came missionary worthington's story about kin thung, the boy who, with characteristic oriental spirit, had quick murder in his heart: "it was while i was the head of the boys' school down in batavia, java, that it happened. one has experiences out here in dealing with youth that he does not get at home, for it is inflammable material, explosive to the highest degree." i waited for his story to continue as the dutch ship glided swiftly down the river toward the south china sea, and night settled over us as we sat there on the upper deck, watching the crimson glory change into sudden purple. "i heard a noise and i knew there was a fight on in the dormitory. i had seen the aftermath of such malay and chinese feuds in our schools before, and i knew that it was no trivial matter, as it often is with boy fights at home, so i hurried up. "when i got there i saw kin thung wiping his knife, and the boy he had been fighting lying on the floor, bleeding from a long wound." "what had happened?" "kin thung was a quick-tempered boy. in addition to that, he was of a sullen make-up, with, what i call, a criminal tendency in him. that, added to his already volatile spirit, made him a real problem in the school. for instance, he was the kind of a boy who, if a teacher called on him without warning to recite, he would get uncontrollably angry, turn sullen and refuse to answer." "why didn't you fire him?" i said. "that would have been the easy thing to do. i preferred to win him rather than to fire him!" i felt ashamed of myself for my suggestion, and looked out into the night skies where the beautiful form of the southern cross loomed in the zenith. "no, i didn't fire him." "what did you do?" "as i was dressing the boy's wound kin thung stood looking on, utterly expressionless and unrepentant, even sullen. "i didn't say anything to kin that night, save to ask him to come to the office the next day. "the other boys were calling out to him as he entered, and i could hear them through the window, 'i wonder how many strokes of the rattan he will get?' for that is one of our forms of punishment. "he was no doubt wondering himself when he entered, still sullen. "i said to him, 'kin, i could give you as punishment a hundred strokes of the rattan. i could put you on rice and water for a month, or i could put you to a room for a week in solitary confinement. but i am not going to do either or any of them. i am going to pray for you!" "'i don't want you to, sir!' he cried in alarm. "'kneel down!' i said to him. "'i don't want to.' "'kneel down, i say!' "'i won't!' "'but this is your punishment. you would submit to the rattan if i imposed that. you must submit to this!' i said. "'i hate prayer!' "'kneel down, boy!' "he knelt. i prayed. he wept." this was the cryptic way the missionary came to the climax of his story. again the southern cross shot into view as we turned a curve in the river. "the fountain broke. a boy's heart was won! i didn't have to fire him. i won him!" "that lad came to me two years later as he started out from our school in batavia, and said, 'mr. worthington, that moment when you called me into your office was the crucial moment of my life. if you had been unkind to me then; if you had punished me, even as much as i deserved it; if you had not been christ-like, i should have killed you. i had my knife ready. there was a demon in me! your kindness, your praying for me, broke something inside of me. i guess it was my heart. i cried. i prayed. that morning saved my soul!'" "that was a marvelous experience, mr. missionary! it was a marvelous way to meet the situation," i said in a low tone, looking up at the white outline of the southern cross, and remembering two thieves. "it was christ's way!" said the missionary. but perhaps the outstanding flash-light of national friendship is that of america for the philippines. i shall never forget the day we started southward from winter-bound china for sun-warmed manila. as the great ship swung about in the muddy waters of the yangsti and turned southward, the bitter winds of winter were blowing across her deserted decks. but in two days one felt not only a breath of warm tropical winds on his face but he also felt a breath of warmer friendship blowing into his soul as he thought of the philippines and america. the first breath of warm winds from southern tropical seas gently kissed one's cheeks that afternoon. it was a soothing breath of romance, freighted with the scent of tropical trees. it was much of a contrast with the bitter winter winds that had blown the day before at shanghai. there the snow was flying, and woolen suits were greatly needed. but to-night men and women alike walk the decks of this manila-bound ship. they are all in white. one stands at the bow of the ship, glad to catch the salt spray on tanned cheeks, glad to feel the sea-touched winds playing with his hair, glad to see fair women of the orient tanned with summer suns; for it is summer in the philippines, while winter reigns in china and the rest of the oriental lands further north. last night we passed the narrow straits leading out of shanghai harbor directly south. two lighthouses blinked through the dusk of evening, the one to the north in short sharp notes, like a musician of the sea singing coasts, rapidly beating time. the light to the south seemed to count four in blinks and then hold its last count like a note of music. in between the two lighthouses vague, dim, mist-belted mountains of the china coast loomed through the dusk. this morning and all day long we have been sailing past the huge outlines of mountainous formosa, that rich island off the coast of china, between shanghai and manila. it looks like some fairly island with its coves and caves, into which pours the purple sea, visible through the faint mists of morning and noontime. its precipitous sides shoot down to the sea in great bare cliffs, save where, here and there, a beautiful bay runs in from the southern sea to kiss the green lips of the land. but now the sun is setting. i am watching it from my stateroom window. * * * * * and now it is the rainy season in the philippines. it doesn't rain in luzon; it opens up clouds, and oceans suddenly drop to the land. lakes and rivers form overnight. bridges wash out, fields are inundated, houses by thousands are swept away, and railroad tracks twisted and played with, as if they were grappled by gigantic fists. men will tell you of the great typhoon that suddenly dropped out of the mountains at baguio, sliced off a few sections of the mountains, rushed down through the great gorge, and left in its trail the iron ruins of eight or ten bridges, put in by american engineers, founded on solid granite; but swept away like playthings of wood, in an hour. one night we were driving from baguio to manila. a storm dropped suddenly out of the nowhere. we had no side curtains on, and in just three minutes we were soaked to the skin, and dripping streams of water. the artesian wells along the way were but dribbling springs compared with us. the storm came out of a clear, star-lit sky. storms come that way in the philippines. only a few minutes before i had been looking up at the southern cross admiring its beauty. i looked again and there was no southern cross. a few great drops of rain fell and then came the deluge. candle lights flickered in innumerable thatched houses where brown and naked women fluttered about dodging the rain, looking strangely like great paintings in the night. at the edge of each side porch a bamboo ladder reached up from the ground. a fire burned against the rain. this fire leapt up for two feet. one could easily imagine on this stormy night, with every road a river, every field a flood, and every vacant space a sea, that the thatched houses raised on bamboo poles were boats, afloat in a great ocean. the fires on the back porches looked for all the world like the fires that i have seen flaring against the night from japanese fishing boats. we had been warm, personal friends since college days, this driver and i. he had chosen the harder way of the mission fields to spend his life. "after all," said he, "that was a dream worth dreaming!" "what do you mean?" i asked him, a bit startled. "why the american occupation of these islands; the dream that mckinley had, of teaching them to govern themselves; and then giving them their independence; an imperial dream such as the world never heard of before; a dream that, if it has done nothing else, has won for america the undying friendship of the intelligent filipino." "right you are, man! but why such a thought at this ungodly hour? i should think rather that you would be sending out an s. o. s." "dunno! just flashed over me that that was a dream worth dreaming; and, by gad, boy, we're seeing it come to pass. look at those contented people living in peace and security; their home fires lighted; their children in school; plenty to eat; not afraid that to-morrow morning some friar will sell their home from under them. no wonder they have given their undying friendship to america!" he continued as we sped through the rain. "england and germany sneered at america's dream. such a dream of friendship through serving its colony had never been born in any other national soul from the genesis of colonization up to this day, save in the soul of america in the philippines. we have set the ideals of the world in many ways but never in a more marked way than this. "the phoenicians were the first colonizers and they swept the mediterranean with a policy of exploitation and slavery which was selfish and sordid. then came greece which had some such ideal of colonization as america. her ideal was, that colonies, like fruit from a tree, when ripe, should fall off of the mother tree. or the ideal of greece was that colonizing should come about like the swarming of bees." i nodded my head. he went on as we slashed through the muddy ways, "rome with her imperial dream, her army to back it up, failed as have failed both germany and japan; three nations with kindred ideals as to colonization. "venice was cruel, adventurous and rapacious in her colonizing policy on the black sea and she left a record of exploitations which makes a black blotch on the world's pages. "modern colonization began with spain in south america, mexico and the philippines. spain has nothing over which to boast in that record. the dutch in java, the record of belgium in the congo; that of the portuguese in the far east; the french in africa; the english in india; germany in china and africa, and japan in korea, have not been entirely for the service of the subjected people, for all of these governments have gone on the fundamental theory that the colony exists for the mother states." he paused a moment as we made a cautious way around a big caribou. "then came the great dream of america that the mother state exists for the benefit of the colony. "elihu root said, 'we have declared a trust for the benefit of the people of the philippine islands!' "president william mckinley said: the government is designed not for exploitation nor for our own satisfaction, or for the expression of our theoretical views, but for the happiness, peace and prosperity of the people of the philippine islands.' "ex-president taft said when he was governor-general of the islands: the chief difference between the english policy and treatment of tropical peoples and ours, arises from the fact that we are seeking to prepare them under our guidance for popular self-government. we are attempting to do this, first by primary and secondary education offered freely to the filipino people.' "this spirit has won the undying friendship of the filipino people. true enough, they will finally want their independence. that is natural, but there is a deep love for america buried in their hearts because america has been square with them; has fulfilled her promises; has not exploited them, but has served them. that is why i call the colonization policy of america here in the philippines a dream worth dreaming." my friend was right. "we love america, because america is our friend!" said a humble fisherman to me one day on the banks of the pasig. "yes, the united states; it is our own! you are our brothers!" said a filipino boy who had been educated in a mission school. "we are no longer our own. we belong to america. you have bought us with a price! it cost the blood of american soldiers to buy us!" said an old filipino, gray with years, but high in the councils of the government. * * * * * one night on the lunetta the filipino band was playing. it was a beautiful evening with a sunset that lifted one into the very skies with its bewildering glory and ecstasy. i had been sitting there, drinking in the beautiful music made by the world-famous constabulary band, and watching the quicksilver-like changing colors of the sunset. then the band started to play "the star spangled banner." i was so lost in the sunset and the music that i did not notice. i heard a sudden stirring. brown bodies, half-naked filipinos all about me, had leapt to their feet at the playing of our national hymn. beautiful filipino women in their dainty and delicately winged gowns, bare brown shoulders heaving with pride and friendship, stood reverently. filipino soldiers all over the lunetta stood at attention facing the flag, the stars and stripes waving in the winds from the old walled city. side by side with american soldiers who had just returned from siberia stood filipino constabulary soldiers. side by side with well-dressed american children stood half-naked filipino children at reverent attention, paying a wholesome respect to the stars and stripes as the old hymn swept across the lunetta. "that is a thrilling thing to see!" i said to a friend. "it could not have happened ten years ago! m he replied. "why?" "they did not trust us, and they did not love us. they had seen too much of the selfish colonization policies of spain. they expected the same things from america. it did not come. they have been won to us!" this warm-hearted friendship is not true either of england's colonies anywhere in the orient or of japan's in formosa or korea. it is true alone in the philippines. * * * * * while i was in the philippines, down in san fernando, a statue was erected to a well-known rebel. he was a man who had refused to take the oath of allegiance to america when we captured the islands. he escaped and carried on a propaganda against us. but when he died and a request was made that a statue be erected to his memory, the united states granted this permission. at the dedication of this statue the governor of this province said that he doubted if any nation on the face of the earth, save the united states, would have permitted the erection of such a statue to a rebel against that government. "that act will bind our hearts closer to the heart of the united states!" he said in closing his address. the thrilling thing about it all was, that his address was met with prolonged cheering on the part of the thousands of filipinos who had gathered for the dedication. another evidence of this beautiful friendship for america is the painting which adorns the walls of one of the government buildings in manila. it is called "the welcome to america." it was purchased, paid for and erected by filipinos; erected in good will, with laughter in their souls, and joy in their hearts. it was painted by hidalgo in paris in . high colors; reds, browns, yellows, golds, blues, purples; tell its story. it adorns the panel at the end of the senate chamber of the filipino government. it has spirit in it and a great, deep sincerity. the central figure is a beautiful woman, symbolic of america. she comes across the pacific carrying the gifts of peace, prosperity, security and love to her colony, the philippines. she carries in one hand the american flag. at her side is youth bearing a harp, symbol of the music that america brings into the souls of the people whom she comes to serve. singing angels hover about the scene. above the central figure of america, on angel wings, is a youth carrying a lighted torch. to the left is a beautiful brown-skinned filipino woman with eyes uplifted to this torch. she bears within her ample bosom the children of the islands. the torch is symbol of the fact that we are handing on the light of our christian civilization to the children of our colonies. i visited this painting many times, but i never visited it that i did not see many filipinos, both young and old, standing before it, with reverent eyes. i said to a high official of the government, "does that painting represent the way you filipinos feel to-day?" "hidalgo has spoken for us. he has voiced our feelings well!" was the reply. * * * * * this friendship for the united states is a thrilling thing found all over the far east. one finds it in korea, as well as in the philippines, like a burning light of glory. korea says, "america is our only hope! we have always trusted and loved america!" one finds it like a silver stream running through the life of china. dr. sun yat sen said to me in shanghai: "america has always been china's staunch friend! america we trust! america we love! america is our hope! america is our model!" mr. tang shao-yi said, "america's hands and those of america alone are clean in her relations with china. this cannot be said of the other nations." then he told me a thrilling story of the boxer rebellion. he, with two thousand chinese, who were government officials, were barricaded in a compound behind the usual chinese walls. the boxers were firing on them every day. they had run out of food. in fact, they were starving. but one morning a bright-faced american boy appeared at the gates of the wall. he was admitted because he was an american. he asked to be taken to mr. tang shao-yi. "what do you most need?" this young american asked the rich chinese merchant. "we most need food," was the reply. "all right, i'll get enough for you to-day!" said the young american. "that night," said mr. tang shao-yi, "that american boy returned with five hundred hams which the boxers had thrown away, in addition to a thousand sacks of flour which he had gotten from the english legation." "wonderful!" i exclaimed. "and that boyish american was----" "who?" i asked with tense interest, for the old man was smiling with a suggestive oriental smile, as if he had a climax up his commodious sleeves. "that man was herbert hoover!" and from that interview henceforth and forever no human being need tell me that the chinese have no sense of the dramatic. "that's why we love and trust america," said this great chinese statesman. "it is because america has always been our friend in time of need!" i found this friendship for the united states true all over the oriental world. it was to me a great miracle of national friendship. the peoples of the orient trust us. they are not suspicious of our intentions in spite of what jingo papers say. we have won their hearts. we have claimed their friendship. the name "america," which stands in the oriental mind for the united states, is a sacred passport and password. it is a magical word. it opens doors that are locked to all the rest of the world; it tears down barriers, century-old, that have been barricading certain places for ages past. that simple word opens hearts that would open with none other. the eyes of the brown men of the far east open wide at that word, and a new light appears in them. this is particularly true in korea, in china, in the malacca straits, and in the philippines. it is enough to bring a flood of tears to the heart of an american, lonely for a sight of his own flag, homesick for his native shores, to see and feel and hear and know the pulse of this friendship for our country among millions of brown men. "it is because we are like you, we chinese," said tang shao-yi. "it is because we are both democrats at heart!" "it is because you have been our true friends!" said dr. sun yat sen. "it is because your ideals are our ideals; your dreams our dreams and your friends our friends," said wu ting-fang, one of china's greatest leaders, to me. "it is because so many of our young men have been trained in your american schools, and because so many of us feel that the united states is our second home. it is because you have sent so many good men and women to china to help us; to teach us; to live with us; to love us; to serve us! it is because your missionaries from america have shown the real heart of the united states to us!" said mr. walter busch, a chinese american student who is now editor of the peking _leader_. but whatever the cause, the glorious fact is enough to: "send a thrill of rapture through the framework of the heart and warm the inner bein' till the tear drops want to start!" but perhaps the highest and holiest flash-lights of friendship that one finds in the far east is that of the friendship formed by the american missionaries for the people among whom they are working, and the friendship that these people give in return. these are holy things. the average missionary comes home on his furlough, but before he is home three months he is homesick to go back to his people. so they come and go across the seas of the world through the years, weaving like a great shuttle of service the fabric of friendship for themselves and for the united states. this shuttle of service is being woven night and day across the atlantic and across the pacific by great ships bearing missionaries going and coming; furlough following furlough, after six years of service; term after term; leaving native land, children, memories; time after time until death ends that particular thread, crimson, gold, brown or white. the great shuttle of love weaves the fabric of friendship across the seas as the ships come and go, bearing outbound and homebound missionaries to foreign fields. i am thinking particularly of the pacific as i write this sketch sitting in a room overlooking the great harbor of yokohama where three japanese warship lie anchored and two great pacific liners, one on its way to san francisco and another bound for vancouver. they come and go, these great ships. a few days ago the _empress of asia_ made its twenty-eighth trip across and it soon will start on its twenty-eighth trip back to vancouver again. some of the ships out of san francisco have made more than a hundred trips. so they weave the shuttle back and forward across this great sea. and never a ship sails this sea that it does not carry its passenger list of missionaries. our list was more than half a hundred. as mr. forman, in a sympathetic and appreciative article that he has written for the _ladies' home journal_, says, the common phrase on a pacific liner is, "there are two hundred and fifty passengers and forty-five missionaries on board." every pacific passenger list immediately divides itself into two groups, the missionaries and the other passengers. then mr. forman proceeds to slay those shallow, narrow-minded, often ignorant and uneducated tourists and business men who dare to speak of this traveling missionary with derision. mr. forman has no particular interest in missions and he has no particular interest in the church, but he started out to investigate this derogatory phrase, "and forty-five missionaries." mr. forman starts his article with these striking paragraphs "if ever you cross the pacific you will find the passengers on the steamer quietly and automatically dividing themselves into two groups. "'how many passengers have we on board?' you may lightly ask your neighbor. "and your neighbor, traveled man no doubt (his twelfth crossing, he will mention), will smartly reply, with a suave, man-of-the-world smile: 'a hundred and two passengers and forty-five missionaries.' "after that you will be initiated and you will be mentioning with an easy grace to some one else that there are on board so many passengers and so many missionaries. it becomes a part of the jargon of pacific crossing." but mr. forman sees working that shuttle of service of which i am speaking. he sees, as any thinking man sees, as roosevelt saw, as bryan saw, and as taft saw, that the greatest single influence for good in the orient is the missionary. mr. forman was incensed at this careless phrase on the pacific liners, and he investigated the work of our missionaries when he was in the orient, and he came to the decision that they are worth more to america, even from that selfish standpoint, than all the ambassadors that we have sent over, because they are, in their crossing and recrossing, weaving a fabric of friendship between the orient and the occident; between the nations of the east and those of the west; between the white peoples and the brown peoples; in spite of the diplomatic differences and yellow newspapers in the united states and japan. mr. forman says about his conclusions: "i concluded that any one of the large missions in those oriental countries accomplished, so far as concerns american standing and prestige, more than all our diplomatic representation there put together. i do not believe it to be an exaggeration to say that for the orient the missionaries are perhaps the only useful form of what is called diplomatic representation." and again in the same article he says: "one good missionary in the right place, it seemed to me, can accomplish more than quite a number of ambassadors." and again he wonderfully sums up that mission of love in a paragraph which i think ought to be passed on: "but when a missionary establishes a clinic or a hospital, healing sores and diseases that their own medicine men have abandoned as hopeless; when he educates boys and girls that otherwise would have remained in darkness; when, with a whole-souled enthusiasm, he gives them counsel, aid and service and he asks nothing in return then the stolid and passive chinese or korean is genuinely impressed. then america really becomes in his mind the synonym for kindness and service, and from mouth to mouth goes abroad the fame of the land that is aiming to do him good, without any menacing background of exploitation." i talked with one bright-faced, twinkling-eyed, red-blooded, big-framed missionary who was crossing with his family of a wife and four children. he had spent fifteen years in the orient as a missionary, and then because of illness he had been compelled to go to america. there he had taken a church and had preached for five years. his health came back, and as he told me, "the lure of the east got me and i had to come back. i never was so happy in my life as i am on this trip and the whole family feels the same way. we are going back to _our people_!" and the way he pronounced those _italicised_ words made me know that he, too, was weaving a thread in the fabric of friendship. we met a woman who was traveling back to china with her three darling little tots. i made love to all three of them, and it wasn't long before i asked one where her daddy was. i assumed, of course, that they had been home on a furlough and that daddy was back there in china waiting anxiously for them to return to him. i pictured that meeting, for i have seen many such during war days, both on this side and in france. "my daddy is dead," the child said simply with a quiver of her little lips. "all right, dear baby, we won't talk about it then," for i was afraid that those little trembling lips couldn't hold in much longer. but she wanted to tell me about it. i soon saw that. she liked to talk about her "dear dead daddy." "he went to france," she said simply. "ah, he was a soldier?" i questioned. "no, he was better than a soldier, my mamma says. he did not go to kill; he went to help." and back of that sentiment and that statement i saw a world of struggle and ideals in a missionary home where the man felt called across the seas to be "in it" with his country and at last the refuge of the man who could go "not to kill but to help." "he went to work with the coolies and he got the influenza and died last winter. we won't have any daddy any more," and her little blue eyes were misty with tears. and so were mine, more misty than i dared let her see. and they are misty now as i write about it. and yours will be misty if you read about it, as they should be. that is something fine in you being called out. later i met the mother. she told me over again the story that little doris had told me of the big daddy who had felt the call to go to france in the y.m.c.a. to help the poor "coolies," several hundred of whom were, by strange coincidence, going back to china on the same boat with us, and with that brave mother and those dear children. these "coolies" were going back alive, but he who went to serve them died. "others he saved; himself he could not save," echoed in my soul as that mother and i talked. "i am going back to the chinese to spend the rest of my life finishing will's work. it is better so. i shall be happier." "but the association there--everything--every turn you make--every place you go--will remind you of him," i protested. "it would be what will would want most of all, that i go on with his work. i go gladly. it will be the best balm for my sorrow." and far above national friendships there loom these snow-white peaks of the sacrificial friendship the missionaries bear in their hearts for the people with whom they live, and serve, and die. the end transcriber's notes: inconsistencies in hyphenation of words preserved. (flash-lights, flashlights; foot-ball, football; star-lit, starlit; to-day, today; to-night, tonight) inconsistencies in the spelling and transliteration of non-english words preserved. (pyeng yang, pyengyang) pg. , "bacon" changed to "beacon". (like beacon lights of hope) pg. , inserted missing comma. (there to the north," i said) pgs. , , , inserted opening double quote mark to start of direct speech at top of chapter. pg. , "flashng" changed to "flashing" (like flashing piston rods of steel) transcriber's note: inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have been preserved. obvious typographical errors have been corrected. italic text is denoted by _underscores_. _by the same author._ from the lakes of killarney to the golden horn. the first volume of dr. field's travels around the world. vol. mo, cloth, uniform with this volume, $ . . _sent postpaid, on receipt of price, by the publishers_, scribner, armstrong & co., and broadway, new york. from egypt to japan. by henry m. field, d.d. new york: scribner, armstrong & co. . copyright by scribner, armstrong & co. . trow's printing and bookbinding co., _ - east th st._, new york. to my brothers, david dudley, stephen j., and cyrus w. field, all that are left of a large family, this volume is dedicated, in token of the love of a lifetime, which will grow stronger to the end. contents. i. crossing the mediterranean--alexandria--cairo--the pyramids, ii. on the nile, iii. the temples of egypt--did moses get his law from the egyptians? iv. the egyptian doctrine of a future life, v. the religion of the prophet, vi. modern egypt and the khedive, vii. midnight in the heart of the great pyramid, viii. leaving egypt--the desert, ix. on the red sea and the indian ocean, x. bombay--first impressions of india, xi. travelling in india--allahabad--the mela, xii. agra--visit of the prince of wales--palace of the great mogul--the taj, xiii. delhi--a mohammedan festival--scenes in the mutiny, xiv. from delhi to lahore, xv. a week in the himalayas, xvi. the tragedy of cawnpore, xvii. the story of lucknow, xviii. the english rule in india, xix. missions in india--do missionaries do any good? xx. benares, the holy city of the hindoos, xxi. calcutta--farewell to india, xxii. burmah--the malayan peninsula--singapore, xxiii. the island of java, xxiv. up the china seas--hong kong and canton, xxv. three weeks in japan, _this volume is complete in itself, though it is the second part of a journey round the world, of which the first part was published a year ago, with the title "from the lakes of killarney to the golden horn." the volumes are uniform in style and naturally go together, though either is complete without the other._ from egypt to japan. chapter i. crossing the mediterranean--alexandria--cairo--the pyramids. on the bosphorus there are birds which the turks call "lost souls," as they are never at rest. they are always on the wing, like stormy petrels, flying swift and low, just skimming the waters, yet darting like arrows, as if seeking for something which they could not find on land or sea. this spirit of unrest sometimes enters into other wanderers than those of the air. one feels it strongly as he comes to the end of one continent, and "casts off" for another; as he leaves the firm, familiar ground, and sails away to the distant and the unknown. so felt a couple of travellers who had left america to go around the world, and after six months in europe, were now to push on to the farthest east. it was an autumn afternoon near the close of the year , that they left constantinople, and sailed down the marmora, and through the dardanelles, between the castles of europe and asia, whose very names suggested the continents that they were leaving behind, and set their faces towards africa. they could not go to palestine. an alarm of cholera in damascus had caused a _cordon sanitaire_ to be drawn along the syrian coast; and though they might get in, they could not so easily get away; or would be detained ten days in a lazaretto before they could pass into egypt; and so they were obliged at the last moment to turn from the holy land, and sail direct for alexandria; touching, however, at mitylene and scio; and passing a day at smyrna and at syra. with these detentions the voyage took nearly a week, almost as long as to cross the atlantic. but it was not without its compensations. there was a motley company in the cabin, made up of all nations and all religions: english and americans, french and germans and russians, greeks and turks, christians and mohammedans. there was a grand old turk, who was going out to be a judge in mecca, and was travelling with his harem, eight women, who were carefully screened from the observation of profane eyes. and there were other mussulmans of rank, gentlemen in manners and education, who would be addressed as effendis or beys, or perhaps as pashas, who did not hesitate to spread their small persian carpets in the cabin or on the deck at any hour, and kneel and prostrate themselves, and say their prayers. besides these, the whole forward part of the ship was packed with pilgrims (there were four hundred of them) going to mecca: turks in white turbans and baggy trousers; and circassians in long overcoats, made of undressed sheepskins, with tall, shaggy hats, like the bear-skin shakos of scotch grenadiers. some of them had their belts stuck thick with knives and pistols, as if they expected to have to fight their way to the tomb of the prophet. altogether they were not an attractive set, and yet one could not view, without a certain respect, a body of men animated by a strong religious feeling which impelled them to undertake this long pilgrimage; it requires three months to go and return. nor could one listen quite unmoved as at different hours of the day, at sunrise, or midday, or sunset, the muezzin climbed to the upper deck, and in a wailing voice called the hour of prayer, and the true believers, standing up, rank on rank, turned their faces towards mecca, and reverently bowed themselves and worshipped. on the afternoon of the sixth day we came in sight of a low-lying coast, with not a hill or elevation of any kind rising above the dreary waste, the sea of waters breaking on a sea of sand. the sun sinking in the west showed the lighthouse at alexandria, but as the channel is narrow and intricate, ships are not allowed to enter after sunset; and so we lay outside all night, but as soon as the morning broke, steamed up and entered the harbor. here was the same scene as at constantinople--a crowd of boats around the ship, and boatmen shouting and yelling, jumping over one another in their eagerness to be first, climbing on board, and rushing on every unfortunate traveller as if they would tear him to pieces. but they are not so terrible as they appear, and so it always comes to pass, that whether "on boards or broken pieces of the ship," all come safe to land. in spite of this wild uproar, it was not without a strange feeling of interest that we first set foot in africa. a few days before we had touched the soil of asia, on the other side of the bosphorus--the oldest of the continents, the cradle of the human race. and now we were in africa--in egypt, the land of the pharaohs, out of which moses led the israelites; the land of the pyramids, the greatest monuments of ancient civilization. as soon as one comes on shore, he perceives that he is in a different country. the climate is different, the aspects of nature are different, the people are different, the very animals are different. caravans of camels are moving slowly through the streets, and outside of the city, coming up to its very walls, as if threatening to overwhelm it, is the "great and terrible" desert, a vast and billowy plain, whose ever-drifting sands would speedily bury all the works of man, if they were not kept back from destruction by the waters of the nile, which is at once the creator and preserver of egypt. alexandria, although founded by alexander the great, whose name it bears, and therefore more than two thousand years old--and although in its monuments, cleopatra's needle and pompey's pillar, it carries back the mind to the last of the ptolemies, the proud daughter of kings, and to her roman lovers and conquerors--has yet in many parts quite a modern aspect, and is almost a new city. it has felt, more than most places in the east, the influence of european civilization. commerce is returning to its ancient seats along the mediterranean, and the harbor of alexandria is filled with a forest of ships, that reminds one of new york or liverpool. but as it becomes more european, it is less oriental; and though more prosperous, is less picturesque than other parts of egypt; and so, after a couple of days, we left for cairo, and now for the first time struck the nile, which reminds an american traveller of the missouri, or the lower mississippi. it is the same broad stream of turbid, yellow waters, flowing between low banks. this is the great river which takes its rise in the heart of africa, beyond the equator, at a point so remote that, though the valley of the nile was four thousand years ago the seat of the greatest empire of antiquity, yet to this day the source of the river is the problem of geographers. formerly it was a three days' journey from alexandria to cairo, but the railroad shortens it to a ride of four hours, in which we crossed both branches of the nile. just at noon we came in sight of the pyramids, and in half an hour were driving through the streets of the capital of egypt. we like cairo, after two or three weeks, much better than constantinople. it has another climate and atmosphere; and is altogether a gayer and brighter city. the new quarter occupied by foreigners is as handsomely built as any european city. the streets are wide and well paved, like the new streets and boulevards of paris. we are at the "grand new hotel," fronting on the ezbekieh gardens, a large square, filled with trees, with kiosks for music, and other entertainments. our windows open on a broad balcony, from which we can hear the band playing every afternoon, while around us is the city, with its domes and minarets and palm trees. the great charm of egypt is the climate. it is truly the land of the sun. we landed on the first day of december, but we cannot realize that this is winter. the papers tell us that it is very cold in new york, and that the hudson river is frozen over; but here every thing is in bloom, as in mid-summer, and i wear a straw hat to protect me from the heat of the sun. but it is not merely the warmth, but the exquisite purity of the atmosphere, that makes it so delicious. the great deserts on both sides drink up every drop of moisture, and every particle of miasm that is exhaled from the decaying vegetation of the valley of the nile, and send back into these streets the very air of paradise. having thus the skies of italy, and a much more balmy air, it is not strange that egypt attracts travellers from france, and england, and america. it is becoming more and more a resort not only for invalids, but for that wealthy class who float about the world to find the place where they can pass existence with the most of languid ease. many come here to escape the european winters, and to enjoy the delicious climate, and they are from so many countries, that cairo has become a cosmopolitan city. as it is on the road to india, it is continually visited by english officers and civilians, going or returning. of late years it has become a resort also for americans. a number of our army officers have taken service under the khedive, who rendezvous chiefly at this new hotel, so that with the travellers of the same country, we can talk across the table of american affairs, as if we were at newport or saratoga. owing to the influx of so many foreigners, this hotel and "shepheard's" seem like small colonies of europeans. hearing only english, or french, or german, one might believe himself at one of the great hotels in switzerland, or on the rhine. a stranger who wishes to pass a winter in cairo, need not die of ennui for want of the society of his countrymen. besides these officers in the army, the only americans here in official positions, are the consul general beardsley, and judge batcheller, who was appointed by our government to represent the united states in the mixed court lately established in egypt. both these gentlemen are very courteous to their countrymen, while giving full attention to their duties. as we have sometimes had abroad consuls and ministers of whom we could not be proud, it is something to be able to say, that those here now in official position are men of whom we need not be ashamed as representatives of our country. another household which should not be overlooked, since it gives an american a home feeling in cairo, is that of the american mission. this has been here some years, and so won the favor of the government, that the former viceroy gave it a site for its schools, which proved so valuable that the present khedive has recently bought it back, by giving a new site and £ into the bargain. the new location is one of the best in cairo, near the ezbekieh square, and here with the proceeds of the sale, and other funds contributed for the object, the mission is erecting one of the finest buildings for such purposes in the east, where their chapel and schools, in which there are now some five hundred children, will be under one roof. this mission school some years ago was the scene of a romantic incident. an indian prince, then living in england, was on his way to india, with the body of his mother, who had died far from her country, but with the prejudices of a hindoo strong in death, wished her body to be taken back to the land of her birth. while passing through cairo, he paid a visit to the american mission, and was struck with the face of a young pupil in the girls' school, and after due inquiry proposed to the missionaries to take her as his wife. they gave their consent, and on his return they were married, and he took her with him to england. this was the maharajah dhuleep sing, a son of old runjeet sing, the lion of lahore, who raised up a race of warriors, that after his death fought england, and whose country, the punjaub, the english annexed to their indian dominions; and here, as in other cases, removed a pretender out of the way by settling a large pension on the heir to the throne. thus the maharajah came into the possession of a large revenue from the british government, amounting, i am told, to some £ , a year. having been from his childhood under english pupilage, he has been brought up as a christian, and finds it to his taste to reside in england, where he is able to live in splendor, and is a great favorite at court. his choice of a wife proved a most happy one, as the modest young pupil of cairo introduced into his english home, with the natural grace of her race, for she is partly of arab descent, the culture and refinement learned in a mission school. nor does he forget what he owes to the care of those who watched over her in her childhood, but sends a thousand pounds every year to the school in grateful acknowledgment of the best possible gift it could make to him, that of a noble christian wife. besides this foreign society, there is also a resident society which, to those who can be introduced to it, is very attractive. the government of the khedive has brought into his service some men who would be distinguished in any european court or capital. the most remarkable of these is nubar pasha, long the minister of foreign affairs. judge batcheller kindly took me to the house of the old statesman, who received us cordially. on hearing that i was on my way around the world, he exclaimed, "ah, you americans! you are true bedouins!" i asked him what was the best guide-book to egypt? he answered instantly, "the bible." it was delightful to see his enthusiasm for egypt, although he is not an egyptian. he is not an arab, nor a turk, nor even a mussulman; but an armenian by birth and by religion. his uncle, nubar pasha, came over with mehemet ali, whose prime minister he was for forty years; and his nephew, who inherits his name, inherits also the traditions of that great reign. though born on the other side of the mediterranean, he is in heart an egyptian. he loves the country of his adoption, and all his thoughts and his political ambition are for its greatness and prosperity. he has lived here so long that he sometimes speaks of himself playfully as "one of the antiquities of egypt." "of the first dynasty?" we ask. "yes, of the time of menes." i do not believe he could exist anywhere else. he loves not only the climate, but even the scenery of egypt, which is more charming to his eyes than the hills and vales of scotland or the mountains of switzerland. "but you must admit," i said, "that it has a great monotony." "no," he replied, "in lombardy there is monotony; but egypt is immensity, infinity, eternity. the features of the landscape may be the same, but the eye never wearies." surely _his_ eye never does, for it is touched with a poetic vision; he sees more than meets the common eye; every passing cloud changes the lights and shadows; and to him there is more of beauty in the sunset flashing through the palm groves, as the leaves are gently stirred by the evening wind, than in all the luxuriance of tropical forests. even if we did not quite share his enthusiasm, we could not but be charmed by the pictures which were floating before his mind's eye, and by the eloquence of his description. as he loves the country, so he loves the people of egypt. poor and helpless as they are, they have won upon his affection; he says "they are but children;" but if they have the weakness of children, they have also their simplicity and trustfulness; and i could see that his great ambition was to break up that system of forced labor which crushes them to the earth, and to secure to them at least some degree of liberty and of justice. with all its newness and freshness this city retains its oriental character. indeed grand cairo is said to be the most oriental of cities except damascus. it has four hundred thousand inhabitants, and in its ancient portions has all the peculiar features of the east. not only is the city different from constantinople, but the people are different; they are another race, and speak another language. turks and arabs are as different as englishmen and frenchmen. we are entertained every time that we go out of doors, with the animated and picturesque life of the streets. there are all races and all costumes, and all modes of locomotion. there are fine horses and carriages. i feel like joseph riding in pharaoh's chariot, when we take a carriage to ride out to shoobra, one of the palaces of the khedive, with syces dressed in white running before to herald our royal progress, and shout to the people to get out of our way. but one who prefers a more oriental mode of riding, can mount a camel, or stoop to a donkey, for the latter are the smallest creatures that ever walked under the legs of a man, and if the rider be very tall, he will need to hold up his feet to keep them from dangling on the ground. yet they are hardy little creatures, and have a peculiar amble which they keep up all day. they are very useful for riding, especially in some parts of the city where the streets are too narrow to allow a carriage to pass. the donkey-men are very sharp, like their tribe in all parts of the world. the arabs have a great deal of natural wit, which might almost entitle them to be called the irish of the east. they have picked up a few words of english, and it is amusing to hear them say, with a most peculiar accent, "all right," "very good," "go ahead." they seem to know everybody, and soon find out who are their best customers. i cannot go down the steps without a dozen rushing toward me, calling out "doctor, want a donkey?" one of them took me on my weak side the first day by saying that the name of his animal was "yankee doodle," and so i have patronized that donkey ever since, and a tough little beast he is, scudding away with me on his back at a great rate. his owner, a fine looking arab, dressed in a loose blue gown and snowy turban, runs barefooted behind him, to prick him up, if he lags in his speed, or if perchance he goes too fast, to seize him by the tail, and check his impetuosity. we present a ludicrous spectacle when thus mounted, setting out for the bazaars, where our experience of constantinople is repeated. of course the greatest sight around cairo is the pyramids. it is an event in one's life to see these grandest monuments of antiquity. the excursion is now very easy. they are eight miles from cairo, and it was formerly a hard day's journey to go there and back, as one could only ride on a donkey or a camel, and had to cross the river in boats; and the country was often inundated, so that one had to go miles around. but the khedive, who does everything here, has changed all that. he has built an iron bridge over the nile, and a broad road, raised above the height of the annual inundations, so as never to be overflowed, and lined with trees, the rapid-growing acacia, so that one may drive through a shaded avenue the whole way. a shower which had fallen the night before we went (a very rare thing in egypt at this season) had laid the dust and cooled the air, so that the day was perfect, and we drove in a carriage in an hour and a half from our hotel to the foot of the pyramids. the two largest of these are in sight as soon as one crosses the nile, but though six miles distant they seem quite near. yet at first, and even when close to them, they hardly impress the beholder with their real greatness. this is owing to their pyramidal form, which, rising before the eye like the slope of a hill, does not strike the senses or the imagination as much as smaller masses which rise perpendicularly. one can hardly realize that the pyramid of cheops is the largest structure in the world--the largest probably ever reared by human hands. but as it slopes to the top, it does not present its full proportions to the eye, nor impress one so much as some of the greek temples with their perpendicular columns, or the gothic churches with their lofty arches, and still loftier towers, soaring to heaven. yet the great pyramid is higher than them all, higher even than the spire of the cathedral at strasburg; while in the surface of ground covered, the most spacious of them, even st. peter's at rome, seems small in comparison. it covers eleven acres, a space nearly as large as the washington parade ground in new york; and is said by herodotus to have taken a hundred thousand men twenty years to build it. pliny agrees in the length of time, but says the number of workmen employed was over three hundred thousand! but mere figures do not give the best impression of height; the only way to judge of the great pyramid is to see it and to ascend it. one can go to the top by steps, but as these steps are blocks of stone, many of which are four feet high, it is not quite like walking up stairs. one could hardly get up at all but with the help of the arabs, who swarm on the ground, and make a living by selling their services. four of them set upon me, seizing me by the hands, and dragging me forward, and with pulling and pushing and "boosting," urged on by my own impatience--for i would not let them rest a moment--in ten minutes we were at the top, which they thought a great achievement, and rubbed down my legs, as a groom rubs down a horse after a race, and clapped me on the back, and shouted "all right," "very good." i felt a little pride in being the first of our party on the top, and the last to leave it. these arab guides are at once very troublesome and very necessary. one cannot get along without them, and yet they are so importunate in their demands for backsheesh that they become a nuisance. they are nominally under the orders of a sheik, who charges two english shillings for every traveller who is assisted to the top, but that does not relieve one from constant appeals going up and down. i found it the easiest way to get rid of them to give somewhat freely, and thus paid three or four times the prescribed charge before i got to the bottom. no doubt i gave far too much, for they immediately quoted me to the rest of the party, and held me up as a shining example. i am afraid i demoralized the whole tribe, for some friends who went the next day were told of an american who had been there the day before, who had given "beautiful backsheesh." the cunning fellows, finding i was an easy subject, followed me from one place to another, and gave me no peace even when wandering among the tombs, or when taking our lunch in the temple of the sphinx, but at every step clamored for more; and when i had given them a dozen times, an impudent rascal came up even to the carriage, as we were ready to drive away, and said that two or three shillings more would "make all serene!"--a phrase which he had caught from some strolling american, and which he turns to good account. but one would gladly give any sum to get rid of petty annoyances, and to be able to look around him undisturbed. here we are at last on the very summit of the great pyramid, and begin to realize its immensity. below us men look like mice creeping about, and the tops of trees in the long avenue show no larger than hot-house plants. the eye ranges over the valley of the nile for many miles--a carpet of the richest green, amid which groups of palms rise like islands in a sea. to the east beyond the nile is cairo, its domes and minarets standing out against the background of the mokattam hills, while to the west stretches far away the libyan desert. overlooking this broad landscape, one can trace distinctly the line of the overflow of the nile. wherever the waters come, there is greenness and fertility; at the point where they cease, there is barrenness and desolation. it is a perpetual struggle between the waters and the sands, like that which is always going on in human history between barbarism and civilization. in the pyramids the two things which impress us most are their vast size and their age. as we stand on the top, and look down the long flight of steps which leads to the valley below, we find that we are on the crest of a mountain of stone. some idea of the enormous mass imbedded in the great pyramid may be gathered from the fact, ascertained by a careful computation (estimating its weight at seven millions of tons, and considering it a solid mass, its chambers and passages being as far as discovered but / th of the whole), that these blocks of stone, placed end to end, would make a wall a foot and a half broad, and ten feet high around england, a distance of miles--a wall that would shut in the island up to the scottish border. and the pyramids are not only the greatest, but the oldest monuments of the human race, the most venerable structures ever reared by the hand of man. they are far older than any of the monuments of roman or grecian antiquity. they were a marvel and a mystery then as much as they are to-day. how _much_ older cannot be said with certainty. authorities are not fully agreed, but the general belief among the later chronologists is that the great pyramid was built about two thousand one hundred and seventy years before the time of christ, and the next in size a century later. thus both have been standing about four thousand years. napoleon was right therefore when he said to his soldiers before the battle fought with the mamelukes under the shadow of the pyramids, "from those heights forty centuries behold you." this disposes of the idea which some have entertained, that they were built by the children of israel when they were in egypt; for according to this they were erected two hundred years before even the time of abraham. jacob saw them when he came down into egypt to buy corn; and joseph showed them to his brethren. the subject hebrews looked up to them in the days of their bondage. moses saw them when he was brought up in the court of pharaoh, and they disappeared from the view of the israelites only when they fled to the red sea. they had been standing a thousand years when homer sang of the siege of troy; and here came herodotus the father of history, four hundred years before christ, and gazed with wonder, and wrote about them as the most venerable monuments of antiquity, with the same curious interest as rawlinson does to-day. so they have been standing century after century, while the generations of men have been flowing past, like the waters of the nile. we visited the great pyramid again on our return from upper egypt, and explored the interior, but reserve the description to another chapter. chapter ii. on the nile. at last we are on the nile, floating as in a dream, in the finest climate in the world, amid the monuments and memories of thousands of years. anything more delightful than this climate for winter cannot be imagined. the weather is always the same. the sky is always blue, and we are bathed in a soft, delicious atmosphere. in short, we seem to have come, like the lotus-eaters, to "a land where it is always afternoon." in such an air and such a mood, we left cairo to make the voyage to which we had been looking forward as an event in our lives. to travellers who desire to visit egypt, and to see its principal monuments, without taking more time than they have at command, it is a great advantage that there is now a line of steamers on the nile. the boats belong to the khedive, but are managed by cook & son, of london, the well-known conductors of excursions in europe and the east. they leave cairo every fortnight, and make the trip to the first cataract and back in twenty days, thus comprising the chief objects of interest within a limited time. formerly there was no way to go up the nile except by chartering a boat, with a captain and crew for the voyage. this mode of travel had many charms. the kind of boat--called a _dahabeeah_--was well fitted for the purpose, with a cabin large enough for a single family, or a very small party, and an upper deck covered with awnings; and as it spread its three-cornered lateen sail to the wind, it presented a pretty and picturesque object, and the traveller floated along at his own sweet will. this had only the drawback of taking a whole winter. but to leisurely tourists, who like to do everything thoroughly, and so take but one country in a year; or learned egyptologists, who wish, in the intervals of seeing monuments, to make a special study of the history of egypt; or invalids, who desire only to escape the damps and fogs of britain, or the bitter cold of the northern states of america--nothing can be imagined more delightful. there is a class of overworked men for whom no medicine could be prescribed more effectual than a winter idled away in this soothing, blissful rest. nowhere in the world can one obtain more of the _dolce far niente_, than thus floating slowly and dreamily on the nile. but for those of us who are wandering over all the earth, crossing all the lands and seas in the round world, this slow voyaging will not answer. nor is it necessary. one can see egypt--not of course minutely, but sufficiently to get a general impression of the country--in a much less time. it must be remembered that this is not like other countries which lie four-square, presenting an almost equal length and breadth, but in shape is a mere line upon the map, being a hundred times as long as it is broad. to be exact, egypt from the apex of the delta--that is from cairo--to the first cataract, nearly six hundred miles, is all enclosed in a valley, which, on an average, is only six miles wide, the whole of which may be seen from the deck of a steamer, while excursions are made from day to day to the temples and ruins. it is a mistake to suppose that one sees more of these ruins on a boat because he is so much longer about it, when the extra time consumed is not spent at denderah or thebes, but floating lazily along with a light wind, or if the wind be adverse, tied up to a bank to await a change. in a steamer the whole excursion is well divided, ample time being allowed to visit every point of interest, as at thebes, where the boat stops three days. as soon as one point is done, it moves on to another. in this way no time is lost, and one can see as much in three weeks as in a dahabeeah in three months. our boat carried twenty-seven passengers, of whom more than half were americans, forming a most agreeable company. all on deck, we watched with interest the receding shores, as we sailed past the island of rhoda, where, according to tradition, the infant moses was found in the bulrushes; and where the nilometer, a pillar planted in the water ages ago, still marks the annual risings and fallings of the great river of egypt. the pyramids stood out clear against the western sky. that evening we enjoyed the first of a series of glorious sunsets on the nile. our first sail was very short--only to sakkara, a few miles above cairo, where we lay to for the night, the boat being tied up to the bank, in the style of a steamer on the mississippi. early the next morning our whole company hastened ashore, where a large array of donkeys was waiting to receive us. these had been sent up from cairo the night before. my faithful attendant was there with "yankee doodle," and claimed me as his special charge. we were soon mounted and pricking over what we should call "bottom lands" in the valleys of our western rivers, the wide plain being relieved only by the palm groves, and rode through an arab village, where we were pursued by a rabble rout of ragged children. the dogs barked, the donkeys brayed, and the children ran. followed by such a retinue, we approached the pyramids of sakkara, which stand on the same plateau as those of ghizeh, and are supposed to be even older in date. though none of them are equal to the great pyramid, they belong to the same order of cyclopean architecture, and are the mighty monuments of an age when there were giants in the earth. there is a greater wonder still in the tombs of the sacred bulls, which were long buried beneath the sands of the desert, but have been brought to light by a modern explorer, but which i will not describe here, as i shall speak of them again in illustration of the religious ideas of the egyptians. near the pyramids of sakkara is the site of memphis, the capital of ancient egypt, of whose magnificence we have the most authentic historic accounts, but of which hardly a trace remains. we galloped our donkeys a long distance that we might pass over the spot where it stood, but found only great mounds of earth, with here and there a few scattered blocks of granite, turned up from the soil, to tell of the massive structures that are buried beneath. the chief relic of its former glory is a statue of rameses the great, one of the most famous of the long line of the pharaohs--a statue which was grand enough to be worthy of a god--being some fifty feet high, but which now lies stretched upon the earth, with its face downward, all its fine proportions completely buried in a little pond--or rather puddle--of dirty water! at certain seasons of the year, when the nile subsides, the features are exposed, and one may look upon a countenance "whose bend once did awe the world;" but at present, seeing only the back, and that broken, it has no appearance or shape of anything, and might be a king, or queen, or crocodile. what a bitter satire is it on all human pride, that this mighty king and conqueror, the napoleon of his day--who made nations tremble--now lies prone on the earth, his imperial front buried in the slime and ooze of the nile! that solitary stone is all that is left of a city of temples and palaces, which are here entombed, and where now groves of palms wave their tasselled plumes, like weeping willows over the sepulchre of departed greatness. our next excursion was to the remains of a very remote antiquity on the other side of the nile--the rock-tombs of beni-hassan--immense caverns cut in the side of a mountain, in which were buried the great ones of egypt four thousand years ago. many of them are inscribed with hieroglyphics, and decorated with frescoes and bas-reliefs, in which we recognize not only the appearance of the ancient egyptians, but even of the animals which were familiar in that day, such as the lion, the jackal, and the gazelle, and more frequently the beasts of burden--bulls and donkeys; but in none do we discover the horse, nor, what is perhaps even more remarkable in a country surrounded by deserts--the camel. in the king's tomb, or sepulchral chamber, a room some forty feet square, hollowed out of the solid rock, the vaulted roof is supported by doric pillars, which shows that the greeks obtained many of their ideas of architecture in egypt, as well as of philosophy and religion. as we continue our course up the river, we observe more closely the features of the valley of the nile. it is very narrow and is abruptly bounded by barren and ragged mountains. between these barriers the river winds like a serpent from side to side, now to the east, and now to the west, but inclining more to the range of eastern or arabian hills, leaving the greater breadth of fertility on the western bank. here is the larger number of villages; here is the railroad which the khedive has built along the valley, beside which runs the long line of telegraph poles, that sign of civilization, keeping pace with the iron track, and passing beyond it, carrying the electric cord to the upper nile, to nubia and soudan. the khedive, with that enterprise which marks his administration, has endeavored to turn the marvellous fertility of this valley to the most profitable uses. he has encouraged the culture of cotton, which became very extensive during our civil war, and is still perhaps the chief industry of the country. next to this is the growth of the sugar-cane: he has expended millions in the erection of great manufactories of sugar, whose large white walls and tall chimneys are the most conspicuous objects at many points along the nile. now, as thousands of years ago, the great business of the people is _irrigation_. the river does everything. it fertilizes the land; it yields the crops. the only thing is to bring the water to the land at the seasons when the river does not overflow. this is done by a very simple and rude apparatus, somewhat like an old-fashioned well-sweep, by which a bucket is lowered into the river, and as it is swung up the water is turned into a trench which conducts it over the land. this is the _shadoof_, the same which was used in the time of moses. there is another method by which a wheel is turned by an ox, lifting up a series of buckets attached to a chain, but this is too elaborate and expensive for the greater part of the poor people who are the tillers of the soil. we pass a great number of villages, but, larger and smaller, all present the same general features. at a distance they have rather a pretty effect, as they are generally embowered in palm trees, out of which sometimes peers the white minaret of a mosque. but a nearer approach destroys all the picturesqueness. the houses are built of unburnt brick, dried in the sun. they are mere huts of mud--as wretched habitations as an irish hovel or an indian wigwam. the floor is the earth, where all sexes and ages sit on the ground, while in an enclosure scarcely separate from the family, sheep and goats, and dogs and asses and camels, lie down together. the only pretty feature of an arab village is the _doves_. where these africans got their fondness for birds, i know not, but their mud houses are surmounted--and one might almost say _castellated_--with dove-cotes, which of course are literally "pigeon-holed," and stuck round with branches, to seem like trees, and these rude aviaries are alive with wings all day long. it was a pretty and indeed a touching sight to see these beautiful creatures, cooing and fluttering above, presenting such a contrast, in their airy flights and bright plumage, to the dark and sad human creatures below. but if the houses of the people are so mean and poor, their clothing is still worse, consisting generally of but one garment, a kind of sack of coarse stuff. the men working at the _shadoof_ on the river brink have only a strip of cloth around their loins. the women have a little more _dress_ than the men, though generally barefoot and bareheaded--while carrying heavy jars of water on their heads. the children have the merest shred of a garment, a clout of rags, in such tatters that you wonder how it can hold together, while many are absolutely naked. this utter destitution would entail immense suffering, and perhaps cause the whole race to die out, but for the climate, which is so mild that it takes away in a great degree the need of shelter and raiment, which in other countries are necessary to human existence. this extreme poverty is aggravated by one disease, which is almost universal. the bright sun, glaring on the white sands, produces an inflammation of the eyes, which being neglected, often ends in blindness. i have seen more men in egypt with one eye, or with none, than in all europe. it might be supposed that a people, thus reduced by poverty and smitten by disease, would be crushed out of all semblance of humanity. and yet this arab race is one which has a strong tenacity of life. most travellers judge them harshly, because they are disgusted by the unceasing cry for _backsheesh_, which is the first word that a stranger hears as he lands in egypt, and the last as he leaves it. but even this (although it is certainly a nuisance and a pest) might be regarded with more merciful judgment, if it were considered that it is only the outward sign of an internal disease; that general beggary means general poverty and general misery. leaving this noisy crowd, which gathers about us in every village that we enter, it is easy to find different specimens of arab character, which engage our interest and compel our respect. one cannot look at these men without admiring their physique. they remind me much of our american indians. like them, they are indolent, unless goaded to work by necessity, and find nothing so pleasant as to sit idly in the sun. but when they stand up they have an attitude as erect as any indian chief, and a natural dignity, which is the badge of their race. many a man who has but a single garment to cover him, will wrap it about him as proudly as any spanish cavalier would toss his cloak over his shoulders, and stalk away with a bold, free stride, as if, in spite of centuries of humiliation, he were still the untamed lord of the desert. their old men are most venerable in appearance. with their long beards, white turbans, and flowing garments, they might stand for the picture of old testament patriarchs. the women too (who do not cover their faces as much as those in lower egypt), though coarsely and meanly dressed, yet as they walk with their water-jars on their heads, stand more erect than the fashionable ladies of our cities. i see them every day coming to fill their "pitchers" precisely as rebecca and rachel came three thousand years ago, and if i should approach one, saying, give me to drink, (which i might well do, for the water of the nile--though containing so much sediment, that it needs to be filtered--is as soft and sweet as that of our own croton), she would let down her jar from her head just as rebecca let down her jar for the servant of abraham, when he came to ask her in marriage for his master's son isaac. the children too, though often naked, and if clothed at all, always in rags, yet have fine olive complexions, and dazzling teeth, and those bright eyes which are the sign of a degree of native intelligence. nor can i refuse to say a word for the poor donkey-boy. many years ago a scotchman in the cape colony, south africa, who was accustomed to make long journeys in the bush, wrote a little poem, depicting the joys of that solitary life, which began, "afar in the desert i love to ride, with the silent bush-boy by my side." the donkey-boy is never silent, he is always singing or calling to his donkey, urging him forward with stick and voice; yet who could wish a more patient or faithful attendant, who, though on foot, trots by your side from morning to night, the slave of your caprice, taking meekly all your rebukes, perhaps undeserved, and content at last with a pittance for his service? so have i had a little girl as a water-carrier, running close to my saddle all day long, keeping up with the donkey's pace, and carrying a small jar of water on her head, to wash my hands and face, or assuage my thirst, thankful at last for a few piastres as her reward. we reached assiout, the capital of upper egypt, early sunday morning, and laid up for the day. while our boat's company were preparing to go on shore to see the town, i mounted a donkey and started off to find the american mission, which is at work among the copts, who claim to be the descendants of the ancient egyptians. i arrived at the chapel in time to hear a sermon and an address to the sunday-school. as the services were in arabic, i could not understand what was said, but i could perceive at once the earnestness of the speakers, and the close attention of the hearers. after the sermon there was a baptism. the congregation was a very respectable one both in numbers and appearance. there were perhaps two hundred present, all decently, although some were very poorly clad, and presented a striking contrast to the ragged and dirty people around them. in the quiet and orderly worship, and the songs that were sung, which were arabic words to american tunes, there was much to make one think of home. there was nothing to distinguish the congregation except the oriental turbans and dress, and the fact that the women sat apart from the men, separated by a screen, which shows that the seclusion of women is not confined to the mohammedans. it is an oriental custom, and is observed by the copts as well as the moslems. i am told that even among christian families here, it is not considered quite "the thing" for women to go abroad and show impertinent curiosity, and that ladies of good position, who are as intelligent as most orientals, have never seen the nile, but two miles distant! such is the power of fashion even in africa. in the church are several men of wealth, who give freely of their means, as well as use their influence, for its support. the copts are nominal christians, although, like most of the christian sects of the east, they are very ignorant and very superstitious. but they have not the fanatical hatred to christianity of the mussulmans. they acknowledge the authority of the bible, and are thus more open to argument and persuasion. besides this congregation, the mission has some dozen schools in the surrounding country. in the town itself, besides the schools for the poorest children, it has a boarding-school for those of a better class, an academy which is the beginning of a college, and half a dozen young men are preparing for the ministry. the field is a very hopeful one, and i was assured that the success of the mission was limited only by the means at its disposal. after visiting the schools, rev. mr. strang accompanied me through the town. it has over twenty-five thousand inhabitants, and is the point of departure for the caravans which cross the great desert to darfour and the far interior of africa, returning laden with ivory and ostrich feathers, as in the days of king solomon. we saw in an open square, or market-place, some hundred camels, that, as they lay wearily on the earth, looked as if they might have made the long journey over the trackless sands. laborers were at work, with no respect for the day, for friday is the mohammedan sabbath; and my friend pointed out, where a number of workmen were building a house, the "taskmaster" sitting on the top of the wall to overlook them, as in the days of the bible. as we returned by an old portal in the city walls, we found a number of long-bearded and venerable men, who were "sitting in the gate" as "elders" to administer justice. the city gate is the place of honor and of justice now, as it was thousands of years ago. in the mountain behind the town are a great number of tombs, like those of beni-hassan, vast chambers hewn out of the rock ages ago for burial places. we walked along by these silent memorials of the mighty dead, to the summit, from which is one of the most beautiful views of the valley of the nile. below the plain is spread out for many miles, well watered like the garden of the lord, the emerald green coming up to the very foot of the barren hills. but there it ceases instantly, giving place to the desert. these contrasts suggest some comparisons between the scenery and the climate of egypt, and our own country. whoever breathes this balmy air, and looks up to this cloudless sky, must feel that the lord of all the earth has been bountiful to egypt. as we read of the winter storms now raging over half of europe, we bless the more kindly skies that are over us now. but after a few weeks of this dreamy, languid life, one begins to feel the want of something else to stir his blood. he finds that nature in egypt, like the works of man, like the temples and the pyramids, is a sublime monotony. the landscapes are all the same. there are four or five grand features, the river, the valley, the hills that enclose it, and beyond the boundless desert, and over all the burning sun and sky. these are the elements that enter into every landscape. there is no change, no variety. look where you will, there is no vision in the distance of lofty peaks dark with pines, or white with snow, no torrents leaping down the mountain side (the _silence_ of egypt is one of the things that most oppress me), no brooks that run among the hills, no winding paths along their banks that invite the stranger to lose himself in their shade. i see indeed hills on either horizon, but they are barren and desolate. on all this double range, for six hundred miles, there is not a single green thing--not a tree, not a shrub, not a blade of grass, not even a rock covered with moss, only a waste of sand and stone. if you climbed those hills yonder across the valley you would look off upon a boundless plain of sand that stretches to the red sea; while behind where we stand is the libyan desert, which is only an arm of the great sahara, that crosses almost the whole of the continent. in all this waste the valley of the nile is the one narrow strip of fertility. and even this is parched and burnt up to the very water's edge. hence the monotony of vegetation. there is not a forest in all egypt, only the palm groves, which are planted like garden flowers, but no tangled wild wood, no lofty elms, no broad-spreading oaks that cast their grateful shadow on the burning plains. all that variety of nature, with which in other lands she beguiles the weary heart of man, is wanting here. it is indeed the land of the sun, and in that is at once its attraction and its terror, as the fiery orb beats down upon it, withering man and beast, and turning the earth into a desert. seeing this monotony of nature, and feeling this monotony of life, one begins to pine after awhile, for a return to the scenes more varied, though more wild and rugged, of his own more northern clime. we hear much of the beauty of a "cloudless sky." it is indeed a relief for a few weeks to those who escape from wintry storms, from bitter winds and blinding snow. but who would have sunshine _forever_? the light and warmth are better when softened and subdued by clouds that intercept the overpowering rays. but here the clouds are few, and they do not "return after the rain," for there _is_ no rain. in lower egypt there is what may be called a rainy season. in the delta, as the clouds roll up from the mediterranean, there is sometimes a sound of abundance of rain. but in upper egypt it may be said that it never rains. in assiout it has rained but three times in ten years! of course the heat is sometimes fearful. now it is mid-winter, and the air is comparatively cool and bracing, but in midsummer it reaches and degrees in the shade! for days and nights together the heat is so intense that not a leaf stirs in the palm groves. not only is there not a drop of rain--there is not a breath of air. this it is to have a "cloudless sky"! gladly then would our friend exchange for half the year the climate of egypt for that of america. how refreshing it would be to him to see, just for once, great masses of black clouds gathering over the arabian hills, to see the lightnings flash as he has seen them in his native ohio, and to hear the thunder-peals rolling across the valley from mountain to mountain, and at last dying away on the libyan desert. think of this, ye who shiver in your winter storms at home, and sigh for egypt. take it all in all, would you make the exchange? chapter iii. the temples of egypt--did moses get his law from the egyptians? in the distribution of the monuments of egypt, it is a curious fact that the pyramids are found almost wholly in lower egypt, and the great temples in upper egypt. it was not till we had been a week on the nile, that we had our first sight of the latter at denderah. we have since spent three days at thebes, the great centre of historical interest, and have made a regular campaign of sight-seeing, starting on excursions every morning, and thus have explored the ruins on both sides of the river--for thebes, like many other great cities--like london and paris--was built on two sides of a river, but one much greater than the thames or the seine, yet not so great but that it was spanned by a bridge (at least this is inferred from some ancient sculptures and inscriptions), over which poured a population such as pours over london bridge to-day. the site seems made for a great capital, for here the mountains retire from the river, sweeping round in a circuit of some fifty miles, leaving a broad plain to be filled with human habitations. here four thousand years ago was built a city greater than that on the banks of the tigris or the euphrates, than nineveh or babylon. here was the centre of power and dominion for two continents--not only for africa, but for asia--to which flocked the multitudinous nations of assyria and arabia and persia and the farthest east, as well as the tribes of ethiopia--as two thousand years later all the peoples of the earth flocked to rome. it is easy, from historical records and monumental inscriptions, to form some idea of the glory of this capital of the ancient world. we can imagine the tumult and the roar of this more ancient rome, when the chariots of mighty kings, and the tread of armies returning victorious from distant wars, thundered through her hundred gates. then did the kings of egypt rear temples and palaces and statues and obelisks worthy of all that greatness. then were built the most gigantic temples ever raised by the hand of man--as much surpassing in vastness and grandeur those reared centuries afterward by the greeks, as the latter surpass anything by the moderns. the temples of thebes--including luxor and karnac, which are parts of one city--are as much grander than the parthenon, as the parthenon is grander than the madeleine at paris, which is a feeble attempt to copy it. we have now been a week--beginning with denderah--studying these ruins, and may give certain general impressions. we do not attempt any detailed description, which must necessarily be inadequate, since neither words nor figures convey an idea of them, any more than they do of the alps. what would be thought of an avenue nearly two miles long, lined with over twelve hundred colossal sphinxes? yet such was the avenue from luxor to karnac--an approach worthy to lead to the temple of the gods. what can we say of a forest of columns, each twelve feet in diameter, stretching out in long colonnades; of the massive walls covered with bas-reliefs; and obelisks in single shafts of granite, of such height and weight that it is the wonder of modern engineering how they could be cut from the side of the hills, and be brought a hundred and forty miles, and erected on their firm bases. but this temple--or rather cluster of temples and palaces--was not, like the temple of solomon, finished in a single reign. karnac was not the work of one man, or of one generation. it was twenty-five hundred years in building, successive kings and dynasties adding to the mighty whole, which was to represent all the glory of egypt. the general impression of these temples--and the same is true of the egyptian statues and sculptures--is one of grandeur rather than beauty. they seek to overpower the senses by mere size. sometimes they overdo the matter. thus in the temples at karnac the columns seem to me too large and too much crowded for the best effect. ordinary trees may be planted in a dense grove, but great, broad-spreading oaks or elms require space around them; and if these columns were a little more _spaced_--to use a printer's word--the architectural effect would be still grander. so in the egyptian sculpture, everything is colossal. in the granite lions and sphinxes there is always an aspect of power in repose which is very impressive, and strikes one with awe. but in any lighter work, such as frescoes and bas-reliefs, there is a total absence of delicacy and grace. nothing can be more stiff. they sometimes have a rude force of drawing, but beauty they have none. that was born in greece. all the sculptures on all the temples of egypt are not worth--except as historical monuments--the friezes of the parthenon. one thing else has struck me much as to the plan of these temples, viz.: that we see in them the types and models of much that has been reproduced in various forms of ecclesiastical architecture. one has but to observe with some care the construction of these vast basilicas, to see how many features of jewish, and even of christian and moslem architecture, have been adopted from still older temples and an earlier religion. thus in the temple at edfoo there is first the vast enclosure surrounding the whole, and then within the walls an outer court open to the sky, corresponding to the court of the gentiles in the temple at jerusalem, to the court of the fountains leading to the mosques, and the cloister surrounding the approaches to old abbeys and cathedrals. one might find a still closer resemblance in forms of worship, in the vestments of priests, in the altars, and in the burning of incense, etc., a parallel which scholars have often traced. and now of all this magnificence and glory of the ancient capital of egypt, what remains? only these vast ruins of temples and palaces. the "plain of thebes" is still here, but deserted and silent. a few columns and statues rise above the plain to mark where the city stood, but the city itself is gone as much as the people who inhabited it four thousand years ago. a few miserable mud huts are built against the walls of mighty temples, and the ploughman drives his team over the dust of the city of a hundred gates. i saw a fellah ploughing with a cow and a camel yoked together, and a couple of half-naked arabs raising water with their _shadoof_ between the memnon (the statue which was said to sing when its stony lips were touched by the rising of the sun) and its brother statue--the two great colossi, between which ran the royal street to luxor. was there ever a more complete and utter desolation? in the temple called the rameseum once stood the largest statue that ever was known--that of rameses the great (the same who had a statue at memphis, for he erected monuments to himself everywhere), cut out of a single block of granite brought from the first cataract, and weighing nearly nine hundred tons! on this was inscribed, as herodotus writes, who saw it twenty-three hundred years ago: "i am the king of kings: if any man wish to know how great i am, and where i lie, let him surpass one of my works!" what a comment on the emptiness of human ambition, that this colossal statue, which was to last to the end of the world, was long ago pulled down by a later conqueror, cambyses, the persian, and now lies on its back, with its nose knocked off, and eyes put out, and all its glory in the dust! in studying the figures and the inscriptions on the walls of temples, there are many things which throw light on the manners and customs of the ancient egyptians. here is a scene of hunting, or of fishing, or of feasting. here are the different trades, which show the skill of the people in the mechanic arts, and many scenes which give us an insight into their domestic life. these have been the subjects of two learned and most interesting works by wilkinson, which open the very interior of ancient egypt to our modern eyes. they show a very high degree of civilization--of skill in all the useful arts, a skill fully equal in many things, and in some greatly superior, to that of our own day. wendell phillips, in his famous lecture on "the lost arts," finds many of his illustrations in ancient egypt. i could not but think that this furnished a very effective answer to those advocates of evolution, who hold that mankind sprung from animals, and have gradually developed to their present state. how much progress have the egyptians made in four thousand years? here the race has gone backward, so that there is certainly no inherent tendency in our nature to advance. but i was less interested in studying the domestic life of the ancient egyptians, than their religious ideas. herodotus says that the egyptians were a very religious people, excelling all others in the honors paid to their gods; and this we can well believe, seeing the temples that they reared for their worship. but what were the gods they adored, and what sort of worship did they render, and how did all this act on the life and character of the people? here we obtain a less exalted estimate of the ancient egyptians. the remains which they have left, while they illustrate the greatness of the empire, which four thousand years ago had its seat in the valley of the nile, do not give a high idea of its religion. the land was wholly given to idolatry. the egyptians had as many gods as the greeks and romans, only baser and lower, indicating baser and lower ideas. they made gods, not only of the sun, moon, and stars, but of beasts and birds and reptiles--of the apis and the ibis--of the serpent and the crocodile. at sakkara we visited one of the most stupendous mausoleums that we have seen in egypt--one which herodotus described, but which for centuries was so buried by the sands of the desert that its very site was not known until brought to light by the researches of mariette bey, who has done so much to restore the monuments of ancient egypt. the approach to it was by an avenue of sphinxes, which led to a vast subterranean gallery--twenty feet wide and high--and leading two thousand feet, more than a third of a mile, under the earth. this long, vaulted passage is hewn in the solid rock--out of which open on either side a series of chambers or recesses, like side chapels--each containing a sarcophagus, × feet. these tombs, hollowed out of the solid granite, are so huge and massive that we wonder how they ever could have been got there. yet these great sarcophagi--fit for the burial places of a long line of kings--were not for the pharaohs or the ptolemies, but for the sacred bulls! thirty of these sarcophagi have been found, and on the walls are tablets which record the birth, and death, and burial of each one of these sacred beasts. these were the gods of egypt, mother of the arts, and civilizer of the earth! this great repository of dead divinities is a colossal monument, at once of the architectural skill of the ancient egyptians, and of their degrading superstition. this single fact is enough to answer those who would imply, if they do not quite dare to assert, that the inspiration of the books of moses was derived from the egyptians. it is a favorite theory of certain writers that moses, being brought up in egypt, here obtained both the law and the religion which he gave to the israelites. no doubt he did learn much from a country that was at that time the most civilized in the world. he was brought up in a court, and enjoyed every advantage of a royal education. he was "learned in all the wisdom of the egyptians." and it detracts not at all from his inspiration, to suppose that he may have been instructed to embody in his new and better code whatever was excellent in the older system, and had been approved by the experience of centuries. the ceremonial laws--such as those of purification--may have been adopted from the egyptians. but these are the mere fringes of the garment of the great lawgiver. as soon as we open the hebrew scriptures, we find traces of a wisdom such as the egyptians never knew. the very first sentence--"in the beginning god created the heavens and the earth"--scatters the fables of isis and osiris, and substitutes for the troop of heathen deities the worship of one living and true god. this single declaration marks a stupendous advance in the religious faith and worship of mankind. the same first principle appears as the corner-stone of the law given on mount sinai: "i am the lord thy god which brought thee out of the land of egypt, out of the house of bondage. thou shalt have no other gods before me." the second law of the first table breaks in pieces the images of the gods of the egyptians: "thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, nor any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, nor in the earth beneath, nor in the waters under the earth." this was spoken to a people that had just come out of a country where they worshipped beasts and birds and reptiles, and where the walls of the temples were covered with the images of all kinds of foul and creeping things. in this age of the world, and among civilized nations, we cannot understand the passion for idolatry. yet it is one of the most universal and ineradicable instincts of a half barbarous people. they see tokens of an unseen power in the forces of nature, in clouds and winds, in lightning and tempest, and they torment themselves with all imaginable terrors, from which they seek relief and protection in bowing down to gods of wood and stone. the israelites coming out of egypt, were out of the house of bondage in one sense, but they were in it in another. they were continually relapsing into idolatry. the golden calf of aaron was but an imitation of the sacred bulls of egypt. often they pined for the products of the fertile valley of the nile. with nothing but the burning sands beneath their feet, they might well long for the shade of the palm tree and for its delicious fruit, and they said, why hath this man moses brought us up to die in this wilderness? it required forty years of wandering, and that a whole generation should leave their bones to whiten the sands of the desert, before their children could be wholly alienated from the worship of false gods. so not only with the israelites, but with all nations of men, ages of fiery discipline have been necessary to bring back the race to this first article of our faith: "i believe in god the father almighty, the maker of heaven and earth." we might follow the comparison through all the tables of the law, to show how absurd is the pretence that what moses taught to the israelites he first learned from the egyptians. tell us, ye learned antiquaries, where on all these temples, and in all the records which they have left us, is there any trace of the ten commandments? and yet egypt is connected very intimately, in history at least, with the birth of our religion. no other country, except palestine, figures so largely in the bible. abraham went down into egypt. here came the sons of jacob to buy corn, and found joseph ruling in the house of pharaoh. and hither centuries later fled the virgin mother with her child from the wrath of herod, fulfilling the prediction, "out of egypt have i called my son." but religion--the divine wisdom which at once instructs and saves mankind--came not from the valley of the nile. abraham and jacob and moses saw the pyramids standing just as we see them now, but they did not point them to the true god. that knowledge came from a higher source. "history," says bunsen, "was born on that night when moses, with the law of god in his heart, led the people of israel out of egypt." and not history only, but religion then came to a new birth, that was to be the herald of new and better hopes, and of a higher civilization than was known to the ancient world. chapter iv. the egyptian doctrine of a future life. the valley of the nile is one vast sepulchre. tombs and temples! temples and tombs! this is the sum of the monuments which ancient egypt has left us. probably no equal portion of the earth's surface was ever so populous, at once with the living and the dead. it is but a narrow strip of territory--a line of green between two deserts; and yet on this mere _ribbon_ of africa lived the millions that made one of the most populous and powerful of ancient empires. they were fed by the marvellous fertility of the nile valley, till they stood upon it almost as thick as the ranks of corn that waved around them: and here, when life was ended, they found a resting-place in the bosom of the earth that nourished them, on which they slept as children on a mother's breast. this strip of earth, long and narrow like a grave, has been the sepulchre of nations. here the myriads of egypt's ancient reigns--from the time of menes--through the long line of the pharaohs and ptolemies--the generations that built the pyramids and those that came after--laid themselves down to sleep in the great valley. thus the very dust of egypt was made up of the dust of ancient egyptians. but this was only the lot of the common people, to mingle their dust with common clay--their tomb the common earth, their end to be exhaled into the common air, or to reappear in other natural forms, living in plants, blooming in flowers, or in broad-leaved palms, casting a shadow on the earth from which they sprung. but for her great ones, more enduring monuments were reared to guard their dust and perpetuate their names. no people, ancient or modern, ever lavished so much on these sacred and pious memorials. they expended more on the tombs of the dead than on the houses of the living, for they reasoned that the latter were but temporary dwellings, while the former were everlasting habitations. the kings of egypt cared more for great tombs than great palaces, and they reared such mausoleums as the earth never saw before. the pyramids were their tombs, and the mountains were hollowed into royal sepulchres. the rock tombs of beni-hassan are cut in the side of the hills. the barren mountain that looks off upon the great libyan desert, is honeycombed with vast and silent halls of the dead. at thebes the traveller, ascending from the nile, winds his way among hills of sand into a valley of desolation. the summits around are not covered with pines like our own darkly wooded hills, nor do even the rocks gather moss--but all is bare and desolate. the desert has overflowed the earth like a sea, and not a shrub nor a blade of grass has survived the universal deluge. yet here where not a living thing can be found, has been discovered underground the most remarkable series of tombs which exists. a whole mountain is pierced with deep excavations. passages open into its rocky sides, running many hundred feet into the bowels of the earth, and branching off into recesses like side chapels. these halls of death are like kings' palaces, with stately chambers broad and high, whose sides and ceilings are covered with hieroglyphics and illustrative symbols. a fact so remarkable as this, that the architecture of a great empire which has built the most colossal structures in the world, has this tomblike character, must have a meaning. the egyptians were a very religious people. they were not a gay and thoughtless race, like some of their asiatic and european neighbors. there is something grave even in their faces, as seen in ancient statues and monuments. their very architecture had this heavy and solemn character. these colossal temples, these silent sphinxes, seem oppressed with some great mystery which they cannot reveal. these tombs show that the egyptian mind was full of the idea of death, and of another life. the egyptians were not atheists, nor sadducees. they believed devoutly in god, and in a life to come. how strongly the idea of another life had taken hold of the egyptian mind is evident from the symbols in their religion. the symbol most frequently employed is that of the _scarabæus_--or beetle--the image of which appears everywhere, which by analogy teaches that life, in passing through death, may be born to a new life. the beetle lays its eggs in the slime of the nile; it buries them in mud, which it works into a ball, and rolls over and over, back to the edge of the desert, and buries in sand. there its work is ended: nature does the rest. out of this grave comes in time a resurrection, and life is born of death. the ostrich eggs hung up in mosques, have the same symbolical meaning. the ostrich buries its eggs in the sand, and nature, that kind mother which watches over all life, gives them being. thus is conveyed the same idea as in the analogy of the chrysalis and the butterfly. studying the religious faith of the egyptians a little more closely, we see that they believed not only in the immortality of the soul, but in the resurrection of the body. the doctrine taught by paul, was long before taught by the priests of egypt. their tombs were not merely memorials of those who had ceased to live, but resting-places for the bodies of those whose spirits were absent but would some day return. for this, bodies were embalmed with religious care; they were buried in tombs hewn out of the solid rock, laid away in pyramids, or in caverns hollowed out of the heart of the mountains. there, embedded in the eternal rocks, locked up with the bars of the everlasting hills, it seemed that their remains would rest secure till the morning of the resurrection day. further, they believed not only in immortality and in resurrection, but also in retribution. the soul that was to pass into another life, was to go into it to be judged. there it was to be called to account for the deeds done in the body. even the funeral rites indicated how strong was the belief of a judgment to come for all who departed this life. after the bodies were embalmed, they were borne in solemn procession to the nile (most of the tombs being on the western bank), or to a sacred lake, across which they were to be ferried. (did not this suggest to later roman mythologists the river styx, and the boatman charon who conveyed departed souls to the gloomy shades of pluto?) as the funeral procession arrived at the borders of the lake, it paused till certain questions were answered, on which it depended whether the dead might receive burial: or should be condemned to wander in darkness three thousand years. if it passed this ordeal, it moved forward, not to its everlasting repose, but to the hall of judgment, where osiris sits upon his throne as the judge of all mankind. this scene is constantly represented in sculptures, in bas-reliefs, and in frescoes on the walls of tombs. in one of them a condemned wretch is driven away in the shape of a pig! (was it here that pythagoras, who studied in egypt, obtained his doctrine of the transmigration of souls?) before osiris is the scribe, the recording angel, who keeps a faithful record of the deeds done in the body. a long line of judges--forty-two in number--sit arrayed as the final arbiters of his fate--each with his question, on the answer to which may depend the destiny of the departed soul. the "book of the dead" (copies of which are still found wrapped up with mummies: several are in the british museum) gives the answers to be made to these searching questions, and also the prayers to be offered, and the hymns that are to be sung, as the soul enters the gloomy shades of the under-world. in this egyptian doctrine of a future life there are christian ideas. some indeed will say that egypt gave rather than received; that she was the mother of all learning and all wisdom in the ancient world; that the greeks obtained their philosophy from her (for plato as well as pythagoras studied in egypt); that the eleusinian mysteries came from africa; that moses here found what he taught the hebrews; and that even the christian mysteries and the christian faith came from the banks of the nile. there is certainly much food for reflection in this reappearance of certain religious ideas in different countries and under different forms. but there is a contrast as well as a resemblance. while the hebrews learned so much from the egyptians, it is very remarkable that they did _not_ imbibe that strong faith in the reality of the invisible world, which lies at the foundation of religion. one would suppose that the israelites, coming out of egypt, would be full of these thoughts, and of the hopes and fears of a life to come. yet in all the books of moses, rarely, if ever, are these motives addressed to the hebrews. the german critics argue from this that the hebrews did not believe in another life. the late dr. edward robinson, the distinguished hebrew scholar, said that he could not find that doctrine in the old testament. without admitting such an extreme view, it is certainly remarkable that that idea is much less prominent in the old testament than in the new. it is not moses, but christ who has brought life and immortality to light. but the egyptian doctrine of a future life, while very curious and interesting as a study of ancient belief, is utterly unsatisfying. the ideas are detached and fragmentary, and wholly without evidence or authority; they are merely the crude fancies of mythology, and not the precise teachings of revelation. and so in all the tombs and temples of egypt there is nothing which can relieve the doubts of a troubled mind, or the sorrows of a heavy heart. i have had some sober thoughts while floating on the bosom of the nile. we cannot but see the world through our own eyes and through our moods of mind. to those who have left their dead beyond the sea, foreign travel has many sad and lonely hours. the world seems cold and empty, and even the most religious mind is apt to be haunted with gloomy thoughts. this is not a mood of mind peculiar to atheists and unbelievers. many devout men, in seasons of mental depression, are tortured with doubts whether, after all, their religious faith is not a delusion and a dream. and so many dark and bitter questionings come to me here in this land of sepulchres. i have come to egypt to learn something of the wisdom of the egyptians. tell me then, ye tombs and temples and pyramids, about god; tell me about the life to come! but the pyramids speak not; and the sphinx still looks towards the east, to watch for the rising sun, but is voiceless and mute. this valley of the nile speaks of nothing but death. from end to end its rock-ribbed hills are filled with tombs. yet what do they all teach the anxious and troubled heart of man? nothing! all these hills are silent. not a sound, or even an echo, comes from these dark sepulchres. no voice of hope issues out of the caverns hollowed in the bosom of the hills. the hard granite of the tombs itself is not more deaf to the cry of human anguish, or the voice of supplication. i turn from the monuments of man to nature. i stand on the bank of the great river, and ask if it brings not some secret out of the heart of africa? tell me, ye night winds, blowing from african deserts; tell me, ye stars shining in the african heaven (this sky of egypt is so pure and clear that the stars seem higher and more distant from this lower world), what light can ye throw on this great mystery of death? and the stars twinkle, but speak not, and the palm trees quiver in the night wind, but give no answer; and the great nile flows on silently to the sea, as life flows on to eternity. nature is dumb; the great secret is not revealed. for the revelation of that secret we turn not to egypt, but to jerusalem. while the egyptians groped darkly after the truth, how do these dim shadows, these poor emblems and analogies, set forth by contrast the clearer and better truth of revelation! all that is written on the tombs of egypt; all that is carved in stone, or written in hieroglyphics on ancient sarcophagi; all that is built in temples and pyramids; is not worth that one saying of our lord, "i am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." we spent christmas day at thebes, where a number of english boats had drawn up to the landing to keep the day, so dear to the hearts of englishmen throughout the world. on christmas eve they were decorated with palm branches, and at night were lighted up with chinese lanterns, while row-boats were floating about, the arab boatmen singing their wild, plaintive melodies. christmas brought a scene, if not so picturesque, yet far more sweet and tender. it had been our good fortune to meet there rev. dr. potter of new york, the rector of grace church. he was going up the nile with miss wolfe, of madison square. they were on two dahabeeahs, but kept company, and anchored every night together. on christmas day there was a service on board miss wolfe's boat, which was attended by all the english parties. it was held on the upper deck, which was spread with carpets and covered with an awning on the top and sides to protect us from the sun. whether it was the strange scene, occurring in a distant part of the world, or sad memories which were recalled by these anniversary days, seldom has a service touched me more. it was very sweet to hear the old, old prayers--some of them almost as old as christianity itself--to which we had so often listened in other lands, and to join with the little company in the christmas hymn: "hark! the herald angels sing, glory to the new-born king; peace on earth and mercy mild; god and man are reconciled." dr. potter read the service in his clear, rich voice, following it with a sermon which was quite extempore and brief, but so simple and so appropriate to the day that it went to every heart. and when at the close was celebrated the communion, we all felt how pleasant it was in such a place, so far from home, in a country surrounded by the ruins of the temples of old idolatries, to join in the worship of him who on this day was born to be the light and the hope of the world. better is this than all that egypt can teach us about a life to come. and so we turn from these great temples and tombs, which only mock our hopes, to him who has passed through the grave, and lighted the way for us to follow him. let scholars dispute the first intent of the words, yet nothing in the old testament or the new, more distinctly expresses what i rest upon than this: "i know that my redeemer liveth and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth; and though worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall i see god!" chapter v. the religion of the prophet. in a review of the faiths of egypt, one cannot overlook that which has ruled in the land for more than a thousand years, and still rules, not only in egypt, but over a large part of asia and africa. we arrived in cairo a few days too late to witness the departure of the pilgrims for mecca. once in the year there is a gathering of the faithful for a journey which is the event of their lives. the spectacle is one of the most picturesque in the east, as a long procession, mounted on camels, many of which are richly caparisoned, files through the streets of the city, amid the admiring gaze of the whole population, and takes the way of the desert. slowly it moves eastward to the red sea, and passing around it, turns south to the heart of the arabian peninsula. a caravan of pilgrims crossing the desert to visit the birthplace of the prophet, is a proof that religious enthusiasm still lives even in this unbelieving age. perhaps the moslem spirit is not so bigoted here as at constantinople. the turk, with his heavy stolid nature, is a more obstinate religionist than the arab. and yet mohammed was not a turk; he was an arab, and the faith which he taught still fires the heart of his race. in one view cairo may be considered the capital of islam, as it is the seat of the great university, from which its priests go forth to all parts of the mohammedan world. this university is nine hundred years old--older than oxford, and still flourishes with as much vigor as in the palmy days of the arabian conquest. a visit to it is the most interesting sight in cairo. there i saw collected together--not one hundred or two hundred students, such as are found in our theological seminaries in america--but ten thousand! as one expressed it, "there were two acres of turbans," assembled in a vast inclosure, with no floor but a pavement, and with a roof over it, supported by four hundred columns, and at the foot of every column a teacher, surrounded by pupils, who sat at his feet precisely as paul sat at the feet of gamaliel. as we entered there rose a hum of thousands of voices, reciting the koran. these students are not only from egypt, but from all parts of africa, from morocco to zanzibar. they come from far up the nile, from nubia and soudan; and from darfour beyond the great desert, and from the western coast of africa. asia too is largely represented in students both from western asia, from turkey, arabia, and persia; and from central asia, from khiva and bokhara, and turkistan and afghanistan, and the borders of china. they come without staff or scrip. there is no endowment to support them; no students' fund or education board. they live on the charities of the faithful, and when their studies are ended, those who are to be missionaries on this continent mount their camels, and joining a caravan, cross the desert, and are lost in the far interior of africa. this strange sight has set me a-thinking, and the more i think, the more the wonder grows. a religion that supports great universities from generation to generation; and that sends forth caravans, that are like armies, on long pilgrimages, is not dead; it is full of life, and can bring into the field tremendous forces to uphold its empire in the east. what is the secret of its power, by which it lives on from century to century, and seems as if it could not but by annihilating die? there is no question of more interest to the historical student; and no one which it is more necessary to understand in order to form some just idea of the great eastern war which is already looming above the horizon. a full recognition of that which is good in islam, and of that which gives it power, would prevent many mistakes in forecasting the future, although it might abate the sanguine confidence of our missionary friends in the speedy triumph of christianity over its hereditary foe. first of all, we must recognize the fact of its existence as one of the great religions of the world. the number of its adherents is variously estimated at from a hundred and fifty to a hundred and eighty millions. it holds but a corner of europe, but extends its empire over a large part of asia and africa. the whole of africa which is not pagan, is moslem. in asia islam disputes the sway of hindooism in india, where the queen has more moslem subjects than the sultan himself, and of buddhism in the islands of the malayan archipelago. over so large a part of the earth's surface is extended the wide dominion of the prophet. his followers number one-tenth, perhaps one-eighth, or even one-sixth part of the human race. nor is this dominion a merely nominal thing. on the contrary, the true believers are strong believers. it may well be doubted, whether among the nations nominally christian the mass of the people really believe with half the firmness and the fervor of mussulmans. the moslems are as sincere, and in their way as devout, as the adherents of any religion on the face of the globe. no one can enter the mosque of st. sophia, and see the worshippers turning their faces towards mecca, not only kneeling but prostrating themselves, touching the pavement with their foreheads, and repeating, in a low, mournful tone, passages from the koran, without feeling that these men really believe. those prostrate forms, those wailing voices, are not the signs of hypocrisy, but of a faith that, however mistaken, is at least sincere. in their own minds they are in the presence of the highest, and offer worship to the unseen god. indeed they are more than believers, they are zealots, carrying their faith to fanaticism. a body so vast in number, composed of such fierce religionists, is certainly a great power in the political and military, as well as religious, forces, that are yet to contend for the mastery of the eastern world. nor is this power inactive in spreading its faith; it is full of missionary zeal. max müller divides all the religions of the world into proselytizing and non-proselytizing. mohammedanism belongs to the former class as much as christianity. the days are past when the followers of the prophet swept over large parts of asia and africa, converting tribes and nations by the sword. and yet even at the present day it keeps up a propaganda as vigorous as that of the catholics at rome. its university here is training ten thousand young apostles. moslem missionaries preach the koran, and make proselytes, in all parts of india. but the chief field of their labors is in africa, where they have penetrated far into the interior, and converted numerous tribes to the faith. it is difficult to obtain accurate statistics in regard to the spread of islam in africa. livingstone thought the reports greatly exaggerated. that is quite possible, and yet, making every allowance, there can be no doubt that it has obtained a success much greater than that of christian missions. a religion which has such a foundation on the solid earth, holding nations and empires in its wide dominion; and which has such a history, stretching over twelve centuries; is a subject worthy the closest attention of scholars. its history is not unlike that of christianity itself, in the feebleness of its beginning and the greatness of its results. it started in an obscure corner of the world--in the deserts of arabia--and rapidly conquered the east, overrunning all the adjacent parts of asia and africa, and extending along the mediterranean to the straits of gibraltar, and thence crossed into spain, where it maintained itself for eight hundred years against all the power of europe to expel it. such conquests show a prodigious vitality--a vitality not yet exhausted, as it still holds the half of asia and africa. a faith which commands the allegiance of so large a part of mankind must have some elements of truth to give it such tremendous power. perhaps we can find the key in the character of its founder, and in the faith which he taught. a great deal has been written about the life of mohammed, but even yet his character is imperfectly understood. perhaps we cannot fully understand it, for there are in it contradictions which perplex the most patient and candid student. by many he is dismissed at once as a vulgar impostor, a sort of joe smith, who invented monstrous lies, and by stoutly sticking to them got others to believe in them, and as soon as he rallied a few followers about him, compelled neighboring tribes to accept his faith by the unsparing use of the sword. this is an easy way to get rid of a difficult historical question, but unfortunately it does not explain the facts. it is by that sort of cheap reasoning that gibbon undertakes to explain the rapid spread of christianity. but if mohammed had been a cunning impostor, his first claim would have been to work miracles, which on the contrary he never claimed at all, but distinctly repudiated. nor was he a greedy mercenary; he was a poor man; his followers relate with pride how he mended his own clothes, and even pegged his own shoes. but he combined every element of the visionary and the enthusiast. he had that vivid imagination that conceives strongly of things invisible to the natural sense, to which "things that are not become as things that are," and that ardent temperament that kindles at the sight of these unseen realities. perhaps this temperament was connected with his bodily constitution; from his youth he was subject to epileptic fits, and his revelations were accompanied with convulsions. such things are found in other religions. they are quite common in the history of devout and passionate romanists. nor are they unknown even among protestants, who profess to be more sober and rational. among the methodists, at camp-meetings, a very frequent effect of religious emotion has been that strong men were so prostrated that they fell to the ground and became as dead, and when they recovered, retained impressions never to be effaced, as if they had seen things which it was not lawful to utter. the revelations of mohammed were all accompanied by these "physical manifestations." sometimes the angel spoke to him as one man to another; at other times something within his bosom sounded like a bell, which he said "rent him in pieces." at such times he fell to the ground and foamed at the mouth, or his eyes turned red, and he streamed with perspiration, and roared like a camel, in his struggle to give utterance to the revelation of god. this does not look like imposture, but like insanity. the constitution of such a man is a psychological study. this natural ardor was inflamed by long seclusion. from his youth he loved solitude. like the old prophets, he withdrew from the world to be alone with god. like elijah, he hid himself in a cave. every year, during the month of ramadan, he retired to a cave in mount hera, three miles from mecca, to give himself up to religious contemplation; and there, it is said, amid spasmodic convulsions, he had his first vision, in which the angel gabriel appeared to him. this explanation of a mind half disordered, subject to dreams and visions and fanatical illusions, is much more rational than that of supposing in him an artful design to impose a new religion on his countrymen. like other enthusiasts, he became the victim of his own illusions. his imagination so wrought upon him that he came to accept his visions as divine revelations. in this he was not playing a part; he was not the conscious hypocrite. no doubt he believed himself what he wished others to believe. indeed he made them believe, by the very sincerity and intensity of his own convictions. mohammedanism may be considered as a system of theology, and as a system of morality. the former seems to have been derived largely from judaism. mohammed belonged to the tribe of the koreishites, who claimed to be descended from abraham through ishmael. his family were the keepers of the caaba, or holy place of mecca, where is the black stone which was brought from heaven, and the spring zemzem, which sprang up in the desert to save the life of hagar and her child. thus he was familiar from his earliest years with the traditions of the patriarchs. when a boy of fourteen he made a journey with his uncle into syria, where he may have learned more of the ancient faith. much is said of his becoming acquainted with a nestorian bishop or monk, from whom he is supposed to have learned something of christianity. but he could not have learned _much_, for his views of it were always extremely vague. it is doubtful whether he ever saw the new testament, or had any knowledge of it other than that derived from some apocryphal books. there is no trace in the koran of the sublime doctrines of the gospel, or even of its moral precepts. although mohammed professed great reverence for jesus, whom with moses he considers the greatest of prophets next to himself, yet his ideas of the religion which he taught were of the most indefinite kind. but one thing he did learn, which was common to judaism and christianity--that there is but one god. the monotheism of the hebrews took the stronger hold of him, from its contrast to the worship around him, which had degenerated into gross idolatry. the tribes of arabia had become as base idolaters as the canaanites. even the holy caaba was filled with idols, and the mission of the prophet--as he regarded it--was to restore the worship of the one living and true god. his first burst of prophetic fire and prophetic wrath was a fierce explosion against idolatry, and it was a moment of triumph when he was able to walk through the caaba, and see the idols dashed in pieces. here then is the first and last truth of islam, the existence of one god. the whole is comprehended in this one saying, "god is god, and mohammed is his prophet." with the homage due to god, is the respect due to his revealed will. moslems claim for the koran what many christians do not claim for the bible--a literal and verbal inspiration. every word is divine. and not only is the unity of god the cardinal truth, but it is vital to salvation. in this respect islam is a religion. it is not a mere philosophy, the acceptance or rejection of which is a matter of indifference. it is not merely a system of good morals--it is a divine code for the government of mankind, whose acceptance is a matter of life and death--of salvation or damnation. the doctrine of _retribution_ is held by the moslems in its most rigid form--more rigid indeed than in the christian system: for there is no atonement for sin. the judgment is inexorable; it is absolute and eternal. before their eyes ever stands the day of judgment--the dies iræ--when all men shall appear before god to receive their doom. but in that last day, when unbelievers shall be destroyed, the followers of the prophet shall be saved. they can go to the tribunal of their maker without trembling. one day riding outside the walls of constantinople, we approached a cemetery just as a funeral procession drew near, bearing the form of the dead. we stopped to witness the scene. the mourners gathered around the place where the body was laid, and then the ulema approached the grave, and began _an address to the dead_, telling her (it was a woman) not to be afraid when the angel came to call her to judgment, but to appear before the bar of the almighty, and answer without fear, for that no follower of the prophet should perish. the religious observances of the moslems are very strict. as god is the sole object of worship, so the great act of religion is communion with him. five times a day the voice of the muezzin calls them to prayer. the frequent ablutions were perhaps derived from the jewish law. fasting is imposed with a severity almost unknown in the christian world. the most rigid catholics hardly observe the forty days of lent as the moslems do the month of ramadan. almsgiving is not only recommended, but required. every true believer is commanded to give one-tenth of his income to charity. as to the moral results of mohammedanism, it produces some excellent effects. it inculcates the strictest temperance. the koran prohibits the use of wine, even though wine is one of the chief products of the east. in this virtue of total abstinence the moslems are an example to christians. so in point of integrity; the honesty of the turk is a proverb in the east, compared with the lying of christians. perhaps this comes in part not only from his religion, but from the fact that he belongs to the conquering race. tyrants and masters do not need to deceive, while falsehood and deceit are the protection of slaves. subject races, which have no defence before the law, or from cruel masters, seek it in subterfuge and deception. but this claim of integrity may be pushed too far. however it may be in asia minor, among simple-minded turks, who have not been "spoiled by coming in contact with christians," those who have to do with turks in the bazaars of constantinople, are compelled to confess, that if they do not tell lies, they tell very big truths. however, as between the turk and the greek, in point of honesty, it is quite possible that those who know them both would give the preëminence to the former. whatever the weakness of mohammedanism, it does not show itself in _that sort_ of vices. his very pride makes the mussulman scorn these meaner sins. his religion, as it lifts him up with self-esteem, produces an effect on his outward bearing. he has an air of independence which is unmistakable. i think i never saw a mussulman that was afraid to look me in the face. he has none of the sneaking servility that we see in some races. this is a natural consequence of his creed, according to which god is so great that no man is great in his sight. islam is at once a theocracy and a democracy. god is sole lawgiver and king, before whom all men stand on the same level. hence men of all nations and races fraternize together. in constantinople blacks and whites, the men of circassia and the men of ethiopia, walk arm in arm, and stand on the level of absolute equality. this democratic spirit is carried everywhere. there is no caste in islam, not even in india, where it is at perpetual war with the castes of hindooism. so as it spreads in the interior of africa, it raises the native tribes to a degree of manliness and self-respect which they had not known before. it "levels up" the african race. our missionaries in liberia, who come in contact with certain moslem tribes from the interior, such as the mandingoes, will testify that they are greatly superior to those farther south, on the gold coast, the ashantees and the people of dahomey, who have filled the world with horror by their human sacrifices. all this disappears before the advance of islam. it breaks in pieces the idols; it destroys devil worship and fetichism and witchcraft, and puts an end to human sacrifices. thus it renders a service to humanity and civilization. so far islam is a pretty good religion--not so good indeed as christianity, but better than any form of paganism. it has many elements of truth, derived chiefly from judaism. so far as mohammed followed moses--so far as the koran followed the old testament--they uttered only the truth, and truth which was fundamental. the unity of god is the foundation of religion. it is not only a truth, but the greatest of truths, the first condition of any right religious worship. in declaring this, mohammed only proclaimed to the arabs what moses had proclaimed to the hebrews: "hear, o israel, the lord our god is one lord." but he repeated it with great vehemence and effect, wielding it as a battle-axe to break in pieces the idols of the heathen. and so far--as against idolatry--islam has served a great purpose in history. but there its utility ends. it teaches indeed that there is but one god. but what a god is that which it presents to our worship! "this god is not our god." the mohammedan idea of god is very different from the christian idea of a father in heaven. it is the idea of the awful, the invisible--grand indeed, yet cold and distant and far away, like the stars on the desert, or in the arctic night, "wildly, spiritually bright," shining with a glittering splendor, but lofty and inaccessible, beyond the cries of human agony or despair. this view of god is so limited and partial as to produce the effect of positive error. in a just religious system there must be included the two ideas of god and man; and these in their proper relation to each other. exclusive contemplation of either leads astray. when man fastens on the idea of one god, he plants himself on a rock. but he must not bow himself upon the rock, and clasp it so as to forget his own separate individuality, lest the mighty stone roll over upon him and crush him. this the mussulman does. he dwells so on the idea of god, that his own existence is not only lost sight of, but annihilated. the mind, subdued in awe, is at length overpowered by what it beholds. man is nothing in that awful presence, as his life is but a point in the divine eternity. it cannot be denied that the idea of god, and god alone, may produce some grand effects on human character. it inspires courage. if god be for us, who can be against us? that god _is_ for him, the mussulman never doubts; and this confidence inspires him in danger, and on the field of battle, so that he fights with desperation. but if the fortune of war be against him, who so well as the devout mussulman knows how to suffer and to die? he murmurs not; but bows his head, saying "god is great," and submits to his fate. thus his creed carried out to its logical consequence ends in fatalism. he believes so absolutely in god, that the decrees of the almighty become a fixed fate, which the will of man is impotent to resist. all this comes from an imperfect idea of god. here islam is defective, just where christianity is complete. there is nothing in mohammedanism that brings god down to earth, within the range of human sympathy or even of human conception. there is no incarnation, no son of god coming to dwell among men, hungry and weary, bearing our griefs and carrying our sorrows, suffering in the garden, and dying on the cross. the mussulman does not feel his need of such help. in his prayers there is no acknowledgment of sin, no feeling of penitence, no confession of unworthiness. he knows not how poor and weak he is, with a religion in which there is no saviour and redeemer, no lamb of god that taketh away the sin of the world, no holy spirit to help our infirmities, to strengthen our weaknesses. so with moslem morality; if we scan it closely, we find it wanting in many virtues. some writers give the most elevated ideas of it. says chambers' cyclopædia: "aside from the domestic relations, the ethics of the mohammedan religion are of the highest order. pride, calumny, revenge, avarice, prodigality, and debauchery, are condemned throughout the koran; while trust in god, submission to his will, patience, modesty, forbearance, love of peace, sincerity, frugality, benevolence, liberality, are everywhere insisted upon." this is very high praise. but mark the exception: "aside from the domestic relations." that exception takes out of the system a whole class of virtues, and puts a class of vices in their place. here is the great crime of islam against humanity--its treatment of woman. we will not charge against it more than belongs to it. the seclusion of woman is not a mohammedan custom so much as an oriental one, and one of a very ancient date. when abraham sent a servant to find a wife for isaac, and he returned bringing rebekah, as the caravan drew near home, and isaac went out to meditate at eventide, as soon as rebekah saw him in the distance, she lighted off from her camel and "veiled herself." polygamy too existed before mohammed: it existed among the patriarchs. it is claimed that mohammed repressed it, limiting a man to four wives, although he far exceeded the number himself. gibbon, who never misses an opportunity of making a point against the bible, says: "if we remember the seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines of the wise solomon, we shall applaud the modesty of the arabian who espoused no more than seventeen or fifteen wives." but this pretence of self-restraint is a mockery. it is notorious that mohammed was a man of the grossest licentiousness; and the horrible and disgusting thing about it is that he grew more wicked as he grew older; and while trying to put restraint upon others put none upon himself. he punished licentiousness with a hundred stripes, and adultery with death, and yet he was a man of unbounded profligacy, and to make it worse, pleaded a divine revelation to justify it! this example of the prophet has had its influence on all the generations of his followers. it has trailed the slime of the serpent over them all. any one who has been in a mohammedan country must have felt that the position of woman is a degradation. one cannot see them gliding through the streets of cairo or constantinople, with their faces veiled as if it were a shame to look on them, and passing swiftly as if indeed it were a sin for them to be seen abroad, without a feeling of pity and indignation. and in what a position are such women at home, if it can be called a home, where there is no family, no true domestic life! the wife of a mohammedan--the mother of his children--is little better than a slave. she is never presented to his friends--indeed you could not offer a greater insult to a turk than to ask after his wife! of course there is no such thing as society where women are not allowed to appear. such a society as that of london or paris, composed of men eminent in government, in science and literature--a society refined and elevated by the presence of women of such education and manners and knowledge of the world as to be the fit companions of such men--could not possibly exist in constantinople. but the degradation of woman is not the only crime to be charged to islam. in fit companionship with it is cruelty. mohammed had many virtues, but he had no mercy. he was implacable toward his enemies. he massacred his prisoners, not from hard necessity, but with a fierce delight. fanaticism extinguished natural compassion, and he put his enemies to death with savage joy. in this his followers have "bettered his instructions." the turks are cruel, perhaps partly by nature, but partly also because any tender sympathies of nature are kept down by a fiery zeal. their religion does not make them merciful. when a people have become possessed with the idea that they are the people of god, and that others are outcasts, they become insensible to the sufferings of those outside of the consecrated pale. in the greek revolution the people of scio joined in the rebellion. a turkish army landed on the island, and in two months put , of the inhabitants to the sword, without distinction of age or sex; , were sold into slavery, and , escaped to greece. in four months the christian population was reduced from , to , . what the turks are in europe and asia, the arabs are in africa. the spread of mohammedanism is a partial civilization of some heathen tribes. but, alas, the poor natives come in contact with "civilization" and "religion" in another way--in the arab slave-hunters, who, though they are mohammedans, and devoutly pray toward mecca, are the most merciless of human beings. one cannot read the pages of livingstone without a shudder at the barbarities practised on defenceless natives, which have spread terror and desolation over a large part of the interior of africa. these cruel memories rise up to spoil the poetry and romance which some modern writers have thrown about the religion of the prophet. they disturb my musings, when awed or touched by some features of moslem faith; when i listen to the worship in st. sophia, or witness the departure of pilgrims for mecca. whatever oriental pomp or splendor may still survive in its ancient worship, at its heart the system is cold, and hard, and cruel; it does not acknowledge the brotherhood of man, but exalts the followers of the prophet into a caste, who can look down on the rest of mankind with ineffable scorn. outside of that pale, man is not a brother, but an enemy--an enemy not to be won by love, but to be conquered and subdued, to be made a convert or a slave. not only does the koran not bid mercy to be shown to unbelievers, but it offers them, as the only alternatives, conversion, or slavery, or death. needs it any argument to show how impossible is good government under a creed in which there is no recognition of justice and equality? i think it is macaulay who says that the worst christian government is better than the best mohammedan government. wherever that religion exists, there follow inevitably despotism and slavery, by which it crushes man, as by its polygamy and organized licentiousness, it degrades and crushes woman. polygamy, despotism, and slavery form the trinity of woes which mohammedanism has caused to weigh for ages, like a nightmare, on the whole eastern world. such a system is as incompatible with civilization as with christianity, and sooner or later must pass away, unless the human race is to come to a standstill, or to go backward. but when and how? i am not sanguine of any speedy change. such changes come slowly. we expect too much and too soon. in an age of progress we think that all forms of ignorance and superstition must disappear before the advance of civilization. but the _vis inertiæ_ opposes a steady resistance. it has been well said, "we are told that knowledge is power, but who has considered the power of ignorance?" how long it lives and how hard it dies! we hear much of the "waning crescent," but it wanes very slowly, and it sometimes seems as if the earth itself would grow old and perish before that waning orb would disappear from the heavens. christian missions make no more impression upon islam than the winds of the desert upon the cliffs of mount sinai. i do not look for any great change in the mohammedan world, except in the train of political changes. that religion is so bound up with political power, that until that is destroyed, or terribly shaken, there is little hope of a general turning to a better faith. war and revolution are the fiery chariots that must go before the gospel, to herald its coming and prepare its way. material forces may open the door to moral influences; the doctrines of human freedom and of human brotherhood may be preached on battle plains as well as in christian temples. when the hard iron crust of islam is broken up, and the elements begin to melt with fervent heat, the eastern world may be moulded into new forms. then will the oriental mind be brought into an impressible state, in which argument and persuasion can act upon it; and it may yield to the combined influence of civilization and christianity. the change will be slow. it will take years; it may take centuries. but sooner or later the fountains of the great deep will be broken up. that cold, relentless system must pass away before the light and warmth of that milder faith which recognizes at once the brotherhood of man and the fatherhood of god. in that coming age there may be other pilgrimages and processions going up out of egypt. "the dromedaries shall come from far." but then, if a caravan of pilgrims issues from cairo, to cross the desert, to seek the birthplace of the founder of its religion, it will not turn south to mecca, but north to bethlehem, asking with the magi of old, "where is he that is born king of the jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him." chapter vi. modern egypt and the khedive. egypt is a country with a long past, as we found in going up the nile; may we not hope, also, with a not inglorious future? for ages it was sunk so low that it seemed to be lost from the view of the world. no contrast in history could be greater than that between its ancient glory and its modern degradation. its revival dates from about the beginning of the present century, and, strange to say, from the invasion of egypt by napoleon, which incidentally brought to the surface a man whose rise from obscurity, and whose subsequent career, were only less remarkable than his own. when napoleon landed in egypt at the head of a french army of invasion, among the forces gathered to oppose him was a young albanian, who had crossed over from greece at the head of three hundred men. this was mehemet ali, who soon attracted such attention by his daring and ability, that a few years after the french had been driven out, as the country was still in a distracted state, which required a man of vigor and capacity, he was made pasha of egypt--a position which he retained from that time ( ) until his death in . here he had new dangers, which he faced with the same intrepidity. that which first made his name known to the world as a synonym of resolute courage and implacable revenge, was the massacre of the mamelukes. these had long been the real masters of egypt--a terror to every successive government, as were the janissaries to the sultan in constantinople. mehemet ali had been but five years in power, when, finding that he was becoming too strong for them, they plotted to destroy him. he learned of the conspiracy just in time, and at once determined to "fight fire with fire;" and, inviting them to the citadel of cairo for some public occasion, suddenly shut the gates, and manning the walls with his troops, shot them down in cold blood. only one man escaped by leaping his horse from the wall. this savage butchery raised a cry of horror throughout europe, and mehemet ali was regarded as a monster of treachery and of cruelty. it is impossible to justify such a deed by any rules of civilized warfare. but this, it is said, was not civilized warfare; it was simply a plot of assassination on one side, forestalled by assassination on the other. i do not justify such reasoning. and yet i could not but listen with interest to nubar pasha (the most eloquent talker, as well as the most enlightened statesman, of egypt), as he defended the conduct of his hero. he, indeed, has a hereditary allegiance to mehemet ali, which he derived from his uncle, the prime minister. said he: "the rule of the mamelukes was anarchy of the worst kind; it was death to egypt, and it is right to kill death." the reasoning is not very different from that by which mr. froude justifies cromwell's putting the garrison of drogheda to the sword. certainly in both cases, in egypt as in ireland, the end was peace. from that moment the terror of mehemet ali's name held the whole land in awe; and from one end of the valley of the nile to the other, there was perfect security. "every tree planted in egypt," said nubar pasha, "is due to him; for till then the people in the country did not dare to plant a tree, for the mamelukes or the wandering bedouins came and pitched their tents under its shade, and then robbed the village." but now every wandering tribe that hovered on the borders of the desert, was struck with fear and dread, and did not dare to provoke a power which knew no mercy. hence the plantations of palms which have sprung up around the arab villages, and the beautiful avenues of trees which have been planted along the roads. it is not strange that such a man soon became too powerful, not only for the mamelukes, but for turkey. the sultan did not like it that one of his subjects had "grown so great," and tried more than once to remove him. but the servant had become stronger than his master, and would not be removed. he raised a large army, to which he gave the benefit of european discipline, and in the latter part of his life invaded syria, and swept northward to damascus and aleppo, and was only prevented from marching to constantinople by the intervention of foreign powers. it seems a pity now that france and england interfered. the eastern question might have been nearer a solution to-day, if the last blow to the grand turk had been given by a moslem power. but at least this was secured, that the rule of egypt was confirmed in the family of mehemet ali, and the viceroy of egypt became as fixed and irremovable as the sultan himself. mehemet ali died in , and was succeeded by his son ibrahim pasha, who inherited much of his father's vigor. ismail pasha, the present khedive, is the son of ibrahim pasha, and grandson of mehemet ali. thus he has the blood of warriors in his veins, with which he has inherited much of their proud spirit and indomitable will. no ruler in the east at the present moment attracts more of the attention of europe. i am sorry to go away from cairo without seeing him. i have had two opportunities of being presented, though not by any seeking or suggestion of my own. but friends who were in official positions had arranged it, and the time was fixed twice, but in both cases i had to leave on the day appointed, once to go up the nile, and the other to embark at suez. i cannot give therefore a personal description of the man, but can speak of him only from the reports of others, among whom are some who see him often and know him well. the khedive has many american officers in his service, some of them in high commands (general stone is at the head of the army), and these are necessarily brought into intimate relations with him. these officers i find without exception very enthusiastic in their admiration. this is quite natural. they are brought into relations with him of the most pleasant kind. he wants an army, and they organize it for him. they discipline his troops; if need be, they fight his battles. as they minister to his desire for power, and for military display, he gives them a generous support. and so both parties are equally pleased with each other. but making full allowance for all these prepossessions in his favor, there are certain things in which not only they, but all who know the present ruler of egypt, agree, and which therefore may be accepted without question, which show that he has a natural force of mind and character which would be remarkable in any man, and in one of his position are still more extraordinary. though living in a palace, and surrounded by luxury, he does not pass his time in idleness, but gives himself no rest, hardly taking time for food and sleep. i am told that he is "the hardest-worked man in egypt." he rises very early, and sees his ministers before breakfast, and supervises personally every department of the government to such extent indeed as to leave little for others to do, so that his ministers are merely his secretaries. he is the government. louis xiv. could not more truly say, "i am the state," than can the khedive of egypt, so completely does he absorb all its powers. such activity seems almost incredible in an oriental. it would be in a turk. but ismail pasha boasts that "he has not a drop of turkish blood in his veins." it is easy to see in his restless and active mind the spirit of that fierce old soldier, mehemet ali, though softened and disciplined by an european education. this may be a proof of great mental energy, but it is not necessarily of the highest wisdom. the men who accomplish most in the world, are those who use their brains chiefly to plan, and who know how to choose fit instruments to carry out their plans, and do not spend their strength on petty details which might be done quite as well, or even better, by others. the admirers of the khedive point justly to what he has done for egypt. since he came into power, the suez canal has been completed, and is now the highway for the commerce of europe with india; great harbors have been made or improved at alexandria, at port said, and at suez; canals for irrigation have been dug here and there, to carry over the country the fertilizing waters of the nile; and railroads have been cut across the delta in every direction, and one is already advanced more than two hundred miles up the nile. these are certainly great public works, which justly entitle the khedive to be regarded as one of the most enlightened of modern rulers. but while recognizing all this, there are other things which i see here in egypt which qualify my admiration. i cannot praise without reserve and many abatements. the khedive has attempted too much, and in his restless activity has undertaken such vast enterprises that he has brought his country to the verge of bankruptcy. egypt, like turkey, is in a very bad way. she has not indeed yet gone to the length of repudiation. from this she has been saved for the moment by the sale of shares of the suez canal to england for four millions sterling. but this is only a temporary relief, it is not a permanent cure for what is a deep-seated disease. the financial troubles of egypt are caused by the restless ambition of the khedive to accomplish in a few years the work of a century; and to carry out in an impoverished country vast public works, which would task the resources of the richest country in europe. the khedive has the reputation abroad of being a great ruler, and he certainly shows an energy that is extraordinary. but it is not always a well regulated energy. he does too much. he is a man of magnificent designs, and projects public works with the grandeur of a napoleon. this would be very well if his means were at all equal to his ambition. but his designs are so vast that they would require the capital of france or great britain, while egypt is a very poor country. it has always of course the natural productiveness of the valley of the nile, but beyond that it has nothing; it has no accumulated wealth, no great capitalists, no large private fortunes, no rich middle class, from which to draw an imperial revenue. with all that can be wrung from the miserable fellahs, taxed to the utmost limit of endurance, still the expenses outrun enormously the income. it is true that egypt has much more to show for her money than turkey. if she has gone deeply in debt, and contracted heavy foreign loans, she can at least point to great public works for the permanent good of egypt; although in the construction of some of these she has anticipated, if not the wants of the country, at least its resources for many years to come. for example, at the first cataract, i found men at work upon a railroad that is designed to extend to khartoum, the capital of soudan, and the point of junction of the blue and the white nile! in the latter part of its course to this point, it is to cross the desert; as it must still farther, if carried eastward, as projected, to massowah on the red sea! these are gigantic projects, but about as necessary to the present commerce of egypt as would be a railway to the very heart of africa. but all the money has not gone in this way. the khedive has had the ambition to make of egypt a great african empire, by adding to it vast regions in the interior. for this he has sent repeated expeditions up the nile, and is in a continual conflict with his barbarous neighbors, and has at last got into a serious war with abyssinia. but even this is not all. not satisfied with managing the affairs of government, the khedive, with that restless spirit which characterizes him, is deeply involved in all sorts of private enterprises. he is a speculator on a gigantic scale, going into every sort of mercantile adventure. he is a great real estate operator. he owns whole squares in the new parts of cairo and alexandria, on which he is constantly building houses, besides buying houses built by others. he builds hotels and opera houses, and runs steamboats and railroads, like a royal jim fisk. the steamer on which we crossed the mediterranean from constantinople to alexandria, belonged to the khedive, and the railroad that brought us to cairo, and the hotel in which we were lodged, and the steamer in which we went up the nile. nor is he limited in his enterprises to steamers and railroads. he is a great cotton and sugar planter. he owns a large part of the land in egypt, on which he has any number of plantations. his immense sugar factories, on which he has expended millions of pounds, may be seen all along the valley of the nile; and he exports cotton by the shipload from the port of alexandria. a man who is thus "up to his eyes" in speculation, who tries to do everything himself, must do many things badly, or at least imperfectly. he cannot possibly supervise every detail of administration, and his agents have not the stimulus of a personal interest to make the most of their opportunity. i asked very often, when up the nile, if these great sugar factories which i saw _paid_, and was uniformly answered "no;" but that they _would_ pay in private hands, if managed by those who had a personal stake in saving every needless expense, and increasing every possible source of income. but the khedive is cheated on every side, and in a hundred ways. and even if there were not actual fraud, the system is one which necessarily involves immense waste and loss. here in cairo i find it the universal opinion that almost all the khedive's speculations have been gigantic failures, and that they are at the bottom of the trouble which now threatens the country. such is the present financial condition of the khedive and of egypt. i couple the two together; although an attempt is made to distinguish them, and we hear that although egypt is nearly bankrupt, yet that the khedive is personally "the richest man in the world!" but the accounts are so mixed that it is very difficult to separate them. there is no doubt that the khedive has immense possessions in his hands; but he is, at the same time, to use a commercial phrase, enormously "extended;" he is loaded with debt, and has to borrow money at ruinous rates; and if his estate were suddenly wound up, and a "receiver" appointed to administer upon it, it is extremely doubtful what would be the "assets" left. such an administrator has appeared. mr. cave has just come out from england, to try and straighten out the khedive's affairs. but he has a great task before him. wise heads here doubt whether his mission will come to anything, whether indeed he will be allowed to get at the "bottom facts," or to make anything more than a superficial examination, as the basis of a "whitewashing report" which may bolster up egyptian credit in paris and london. but if he does come to know "the truth and the whole truth," then i predict that he will either abandon the case in despair, or he will have to recommend to the khedive, as the only salvation for him, a more sweeping and radical reform than the latter has yet dreamed of. it requires some degree of moral courage to talk to a sovereign as to a private individual; to speak to him as if he were a prodigal son who had wasted his substance in riotous living; to tell him to moderate his desires, and restrain his ambition, and to live a quiet and sober life; and to "live within his means." but this he must do, or it is easy to see where this brilliant financiering will end. if mr. cave can persuade the khedive to restrain his extravagance; to stop building palaces (he has now more than he can possibly use); and to give up, once for all, as the follies of his youth, his grand schemes of annexing the whole interior of africa, as he has already annexed nubia and soudan; and to "back out" as gracefully as he can (although it is a very awkward business), of his war with abyssinia; and then to follow up the good course he has begun with his suez canal shares, by selling all his stock in every commercial company (for one man must not try to absorb all the industry of a kingdom); if he can persuade him to sell all the railways in egypt; and to sell every steamship on the mediterranean, except such as may be needed for the use of the government; and every boat on the nile except a yacht or two for his private pleasure; to sell all his hotels and theatres; his sugar factories and cotton plantations; and abandoning all his private speculations, to be content with being simply the ruler of egypt, and attending to the affairs of government, which are quite enough to occupy the thoughts of "a mind capacious of such things;" then he may succeed in righting up the ship. otherwise i fear the khedive will follow the fate of his master the sultan. but impending bankruptcy is not the worst feature in egypt. there is something more rotten in the state than bad financial management. it is the want of justice established by law, which shall protect the rights of the people. at present, liberty there is none; the government is an absolute despotism, as much as it was three thousand years ago. the system under which the israelites groaned, and for which god brought the plagues upon egypt, is in full force to-day. the khedive has obtained great credit abroad by the expeditions of sir samuel baker and others up the nile, which were said to be designed to break up the slave trade. but what signifies destroying slavery in the interior of africa, when a system still more intolerable exists in egypt itself? it is not called slavery; it is simply _forced labor_, which, being interpreted, means that when the khedive wants ten thousand men to dig a canal or build a railroad, he sends into the requisite number of villages, and "conscripts" them _en masse_, just as he conscripts his soldiers (taking them away from their little farms, perhaps, at the very moment when their labor is most needed), and sets them to work for himself, under taskmasters, driving them to work under the goad of the lash, or, if need be, at the point of the bayonet. for this labor, thus cruelly exacted, they receive absolutely nothing--neither pay _nor food_. a man who has constructed some of the greatest works of modern egypt, said to me, as we were riding over the delta, "i built this railroad. i had under me twenty thousand men--all forced labor. in return for their labor, i gave them--_water_!" "but surely you paid them wages?" "no." "but at least you gave them food?" "no." "but how did they live?" "the women worked on the land, and brought them bread and rice." "but suppose they failed to bring food, what became of the workmen?" "they starved." and not only were they forced to work without pay and without food, but were often required to furnish their own tools. surely this is making bricks without straw, as much as the israelites did. such a system of labor, however grand the public works it may construct, can hardly excite the admiration of a lover of free institutions. on all who escape this forced labor, the _taxation_ is fearful. the hand of the government is as heavy upon them as in the ancient days. to one who was telling me of this--and no man knows egypt better--i said, "why, the government takes half of all that the country yields." "half?" he answered, "_it takes all._" to the miserable fellahs who till the soil it leaves only their mud hovels, the rags that scarcely hide their nakedness, and the few herbs and fruits that but just keep soul and body together. every acre of ground in egypt is taxed, and every palm tree in the valley of the nile. what would our american farmers say to a tax of twelve dollars an acre on their land, and of from twenty-five to fifty cents on every apple tree in their orchards? yet this enormous burden falls, not on the rich farmers of new england, or new york, or ohio, but on the miserable fellahs of egypt, who are far more destitute than the negroes of the south. yet in the midst of all this poverty and wretchedness, in these miserable arab villages the tax gatherer appears regularly, and the tax, though it be the price of blood, is remorselessly exacted. if anybody refuses, or is unable to pay, no words are wasted on him, he is immediately bastinadoed till his cries avail--not with the officers of the law, who know no mercy, but with his neighbors, who yielding up their last penny, compel the executioner to let go his hold. such is the egyptian government as it presses on the people. while its hand is so heavy in ruinous taxations, the administration of justice is pretty much as it was in the time of the pharaohs. it has been in the hands of a set of native officials, who sometimes executed a rude kind of justice on the old principle of strict retaliation, "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth," but commonly paid no regard to the merits of a case, but decided it entirely by other considerations. in matters where the government was concerned, no private individual had any chance whatever. the khedive was the source of all authority and power, a central divinity, of whom every official in the country was an emanation, before whom no law or justice could stand. in other matters judges decided according to their own pleasure--their like or dislike of one or the other of the parties--or more often according to their interest, for they were notoriously open to bribes. thus in the whole land of egypt justice there was none. in every arab village the sheik was a petty tyrant, who could bastinado the miserable fellahs at his will. this rough kind of government answered its purpose--or at least there was no one who dared to question it--so long as they had only their own people to rule over. but when foreigners came to settle in egypt, they were not willing to be subjected to this oriental justice. hence arose a system of consular courts, by which every question which concerned a foreigner was argued and decided before a mixed tribunal, composed of the consul of the country and a native judge. this seemed very fair, but in fact it only made confusion worse confounded. for naturally the consul sided with his own countryman (if he did not, he would be considered almost a traitor), his foreign prejudices came into play; and so what was purely a question of law, became a political question. it was not merely a litigation about property between a and b, but a matter of diplomatic skill between france (or any other foreign power) and egypt; and as france was the stronger, she was the more likely to succeed. hence the foreigner had great advantages over the native in these consular courts, and if in addition the native judge was open to a bribe, and the foreigner was willing to give it, the native suitor, however wronged, was completely at his mercy. such was the state of things until quite recently. but here at least there has been a reform in the introduction of a new judicial system, which is the greatest step forward that has been taken within half a century. the man who was the first to see what was the radical vice of the country, the effectual hindrance to its prosperity, was nubar pasha. he had the sagacity to see that the first want of egypt was not more railroads and steamboats, but simple justice--the protection of law. how clearly he saw the evil, was indicated by a remark which i once heard him make. he said: "the idea of justice does not exist in the oriental mind. we have governors and judges, who sit to hear causes, and who decide them after the oriental fashion--that is, they will decide in favor of a friend against an enemy, or more commonly in favor of the man who can pay the largest bribe; but to sit patiently and listen to evidence, and then decide according to abstract justice, is something not only foreign to their customs, but of which they have absolutely no idea--they cannot conceive of it." he saw that a feeling of insecurity was at the bottom of the want of confidence at home and abroad; and that to "establish justice" was the first thing both to encourage native industry, and to invite the capital of france and england to expend itself in the valley of the nile. to accomplish this has been his single aim for many years. he has set himself to do away with the old oriental system complicated by the consular courts, and to introduce the simple administration of justice, by which there should be one law for natives and foreigners, for the rich and the poor, for the powerful and the weak. to inaugurate such a policy, which was a virtual revolution, the initiative must be taken by egypt. but how could the khedive propose a change which was a virtual surrender of his own absolute power? he could no longer be absolute _within the courts_: and to give up this no oriental despot would consent, for it was parting with the dearest token of his power over the lives and fortunes of his subjects. but the khedive was made to see, that, if he surrendered something, he gained much more; that it was an immense advantage to himself and his country to be brought within the pale of european civilization; and that this could not be until it was placed under the protection of european law. but egypt was not the only power to be consulted. the change could only be made by treaty with other countries, and egypt was not an independent state, and had no right to enter into negotiations with foreign powers without the consent of the porte. to obtain this involved long and tedious delays at constantinople. and last of all, the foreign states themselves had to be persuaded into it, for of course the change involved the surrender of their consular jurisdiction; and all were jealous lest it should be giving up the rights of their citizens. to persuade them to the contrary was a slow business. each government considered how it would affect its own subjects. france especially, which had had great advantages under the old consular courts, was the last to give its consent to the new system. it was only a few days before the new year, at which it was to be inaugurated, that the national assembly, after a debate lasting nearly a week, finally adopted the measure by a majority of three to one, and thus the great judicial reform, on which the wisest statesman of egypt had so long fixed his heart, was consummated. the change, in a word, is this. the old consular courts are abolished, and in their place are constituted three courts--one at cairo, one at alexandria, and one at ismailia--each composed of seven judges, of whom a majority are nominated by the foreign powers which have most to do with egypt: france, england, germany, austria, russia, and the united states. in the selection of judges, as there are three benches to be filled, several are taken from the smaller states of europe. there is also a higher court of appeal constituted in the same way. the judges to fill these important positions have already been named by the different governments, and so far as the _personnel_ of the new courts is concerned, leave nothing to be desired. they are all men of reputation in their own countries, as having the requisite legal knowledge and ability, and as men of character, who will administer the law in the interest of justice, and that alone. the united states is represented by judge barringer at alexandria, and judge batcheller at cairo--both of whom will render excellent service to egypt, and do honor to their own country. the law which these courts are to administer, is not moslem law (until now the supreme law of egypt was the koran, as it still is in turkey), nor any kind of oriental law--but european law. guided by the same intelligence which framed the new judicial system, egypt has adopted the code napoleon. the french language will be used in the courts for the european judges, and the arabic for the native. in administering this law, these courts are supreme; they cannot be touched by the government, or their decisions annulled; for _they are constituted by treaty_, and any attempt to interfere with them would at once be resented by all the foreign powers as a violation of a solemn compact, and bring down upon egypt the protest and indignation of the whole civilized world. the change involved in the introduction of such a system can hardly be realized by europeans or americans. it is the first attempt to inaugurate a reign of law in egypt, or perhaps in any oriental country. it is a breakwater equally against the despotism of the central power, and the meddlesomeness of foreign governments, acting through the consular courts. for the first time the khedive is himself put under law, and has some check to his power over the lives and property of his subjects. indeed we may say that it is the first time in the history of egypt that there has been one law for ruler and people--for the khedive and the fellah, for the native-born and for the stranger within their gates. the completion of such a system, after so much labor, has naturally been regarded with great satisfaction by those who have been working for it, and its inauguration on the first of the year was an occasion of congratulation. on that day the new judges were inducted into office, and after taking their official oaths they were all entertained at the house of judge batcheller, where was present also mr. washburne, our minister at paris, and where speeches were made in english, french, german, and arabic, and the warmest wishes expressed both by the foreign and native judges, that a system devised with so much care for the good of egypt, might be completely successful. of course it will take time for the people to get accustomed to the new state of things. they are so unused to any form of justice that at first they hardly know what it means, and will be suspicious of it, as if it were some new device of oppression. they have to be educated to justice, as to everything else. by and bye they will get some new ideas into their heads, and we may see a real administration of justice in the valley of the nile. that it may realize the hopes of the great man by whom it has been devised, and "establish justice" in a country in which justice has been hitherto unknown, will be the wish of every american. this new judicial system is the one bright spot in the state of egypt, where there is so much that is dark. it is the one step of real progress to be set over against all the waste and extravagance, the oppression and tyranny. aside from that i cannot indulge in any rose-colored views. i cannot go into ecstasies of admiration over a government which has had absolute control of the country for so many years, and has brought it to the verge of ruin. and yet these failures and disasters, great as they are, do not abate my interest in egypt, nor in that remarkable man who has at present its destinies in his hands. i would not ask too much, nor set up an unreasonable standard. i am not so foolish as to suppose that egypt can be a constitutional monarchy like england; or a republic like america. this would be carrying republicanism to absurdity. i am not such an enthusiast for republican institutions, as to believe that they are the best for all peoples, whatever their degree of intelligence. they would be unsuited to egypt. the people are not fit for them. they are not only very poor, but very ignorant. there is no middle class in egypt in which to find the materials of free institutions. republican as i am, i believe that _the best possible government for egypt is an enlightened despotism_; and my complaint against the government of the khedive is, not that he concentrates all power in himself, but that he does not use it wisely--that his government unites, with many features of a civilized state, some of the very worst features of oriental tyranny. but with all that is dark in the present state of this country, and sad in the condition of its people, i believe that egypt has a great future before it; that it is to rise to a new life, and become a prosperous state of the modern world. the nile valley has a great part yet to play in the future civilization of africa, as an avenue of access to the interior--to those central highlands where are the great lakes, which are the long-sought sources of the nile; and from which travellers and explorers, merchants and missionaries, may descend on the one hand to the niger, and to the western coast; or, on the other, to those vast regions which own the rule of the sultan of zanzibar. i watch with interest every expedition up the nile, if so be it is an advance, not of conquest, but of peaceful commerce and civilization. perhaps the khedive will rise to the height of the emergency, and bring his country out of all its difficulties, and set it on a new career of prosperity. he has great qualities, great capacity and marvellous energy. has he also the gift of political wisdom? never had a ruler such an opportunity. he has a part to act--if he knows how to act it well--which will give him a name in history greater than any of the old kings of egypt, since to him it is given to reconstruct a kingdom, and to lead the way for the regeneration of a continent. if only he can see that his true interest lies, not in war, but in peace, not in conquering all the tribes of africa, and annexing their territory, but in developing the resources of his own country, and in peaceful commerce with his less civilized neighbors, he will place himself at the head of a continent, and by the powerful influence of his example, and of his own prosperous state, become not only the restorer of egypt, but the civilizer of africa. chapter vii. midnight in the heart of the great pyramid. our last night in cairo we spent in riding out to ghizeh by moonlight, and exploring the interior of the great pyramid. we had already been there by day, and climbed to the top, but did not then go inside. there is no access but by a single narrow passage, four feet wide and high, which slopes at a descending angle, so that one must stoop very low while he slides down an inclined plane, as if he were descending into a mine by a very small shaft. there is not much pleasure in crouching and creeping along such a passage, with a crowd of arab guides before and behind, lighting the darkness with their torches, and making the rocky cavern hideous with their yells. these creatures fasten on the traveller, pulling and pushing, smoking in his face, and raising such a dust that he cannot see, and is almost choked, and keeping up such a noise that he cannot hear, and can hardly think. one likes a little quiet and silence, a little chance for meditation, when he penetrates the sepulchre of kings, where a pharaoh was laid down to rest four thousand years ago. so i left these interior researches, on our first visit to the pyramid, to the younger members of our party, and contented myself with clambering up its sides, and looking off upon the desert and the valley of the nile, with cairo in the distance. but on our trip up the nile, i read the work of piazzi smyth, the astronomer royal of scotland, "our inheritance in the great pyramid," and had my curiosity excited to see again a structure which was not only the oldest and greatest in the world, but in which he thought to have discovered the proofs of a divine revelation. dr. grant of cairo, who had made a study of the subject, and had spent many nights in the heart of the pyramid, taking accurate measurements, kindly offered to accompany us; and so we made up a party of those who had come down the nile--an episcopal clergyman from new england, a colonel from the united states army, a lady from cambridge, mass., and a german lady and her daughter who had been with us for more than two months, and my niece and myself. it was to be our last excursion together, as we were to part on the morrow, and should probably never all meet again. at half-past eight o'clock we drove away from the ezbekieh square in cairo. it was one of those lovely nights found only in egypt. the moon, approaching the full, cast a soft light on everything--on the nile, as we crossed the long iron bridge, and on the palms, waving gently in the night wind. we rode along under the avenue of trees planted by old mehemet ali, keeping up an animated conversation, and getting a great deal of information about egypt. it was two hours before we reached the pyramid. of course the arabs, who had seen the carriages approaching along the road, and who like vultures, discern their prey from a great distance, were soon around us, offering their services. but dr. grant, whose experience had taught him whom to seek, sent for the head man, whom he knew, who had accompanied him in his explorations, and bade him seek out a sufficient number of trusty guides for our party, and keep off the rest. while the sheik was seeking for his retainers, we strolled away to the sphinx, which looked more strange and weird than ever in the moonlight. how many centuries has he sat there, crouching on the desert, and looking towards the rising sun. the body is that of a recumbent lion. the back only is seen, as the giant limbs, which are stretched out sixty feet in front, are wholly covered by the sand. but the mighty head still lifts its unchanged brow above the waste, looking towards the east, to see the sun rise, as it has every morning for four thousand years. on our return to the pyramid, dr. grant pointed out the "corner sockets" of the original structure, showing how much larger it was when first built, and as it stood in the time of the pharaohs. it is well known that it has been mutilated by the successive rulers of egypt, who have stripped off its outer layers of granite to build palaces and mosques in cairo. this process of spoliation, continued for centuries, has reduced the size of the pyramid _two acres_, so that now it covers but eleven acres of ground, whereas originally it covered thirteen. outside of all this was a pavement of granite, extending forty feet from the base, which surrounded the whole. by the time we had returned, the sheik was on hand with his swarthy guides around him, and we prepared to enter the pyramid. it was not _intended_ to be entered. if it had been so designed--as it is the largest building in the world--it would have had a lofty gateway in keeping with its enormous proportions, like the temples of upper egypt. but it is not a temple, nor a place for assembly or for worship, nor even a lofty, vaulted place of burial, like the tombs of the medici in florence, or other royal mausoleums. except the king's and queen's chambers (which are called chambers by courtesy, not being large enough for ordinary bedrooms in a royal palace, but more like a hermit's rocky cell), the whole pyramid is one mass of stone, as solid as the cliff of el capitan in the yo semite valley. the only entrance is by the narrow passage already described; and even this was walled up so as to be concealed. if it were intended for a tomb, whoever built it sealed it up, that its secret might remain forever inviolate; and that the dead might slumber undisturbed until the judgment day. it was only by accident that an entrance was discovered. about a thousand years ago a mohammedan ruler, conceiving the idea that the pyramid had been built as a storehouse for the treasures of the kings of egypt, undertook to break into it, and worked for months to pierce the granite sides, but was about to give it up in despair, when the accidental falling of a stone led to the discovery of the passage by which one now gains access to the interior. in getting into the pyramid one must stoop to conquer. but this stooping is nothing to the bodily prostrations he has to undergo to get into some passages of the temples and underground tombs. often one has not only to crouch, but to crawl. near the pyramid are some tombs, the mouths of which are so choked up with sand that one has actually to forego all use of hands and knees. i threw myself in despair on the ground, and told the guides to drag me in by the heels. as one lies prone on the earth, he cannot help feeling that this horizontal posture is rather ridiculous for one who is in the pursuit of knowledge. i could not but think to what a low estate i had fallen. sometimes one feels indeed, as he is thus compelled to "lick the dust," as if the curse of the serpent were pronounced upon him, "on thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life." we had trusted to the man in authority to protect us from the horde of arabs; but nothing could keep back the irrepressible camp-followers, who flocked after us, and when we got into the king's chamber, we found we had twenty-four! with such a bodyguard, each carrying a lighted candle, we took up our forward march, or rather our forward _stoop_, for no man can stand upright in this low passage. thus bending one after another, like a flock of sheep, we vanished from the moonlight. dr. grant led the way, and, full of the wonders of the construction of the pyramid, he called to me, as he disappeared down its throat, to look back and see how that long tube--longer and larger than any telescope that ever was made--pointed towards the north star. but stars and moon were soon eclipsed, and we were lost in the darkness of this labyrinth. the descent is easy, indeed it is too easy, for the sides of the passage are of polished limestone, smooth as glass, and the floor affords but a slight hold for the feet, so that as we bent forward, we found it difficult to keep our balance, and might have fallen from top to bottom if we had not had the strong arms of our guides to hold us up. with such a pair of crutches to lean upon, we slid down the smooth worn pavement till we came to a huge boulder, a granite portcullis, which blocked our way, around which a passage had been cut. creeping around this, pulled and hauled by the arabs, who lifted us over the dangerous places, we were shouldered on to another point of rock, and now began our ascent along a passage as slippery as that before. here again we should have made poor progress alone, with our boots which slipped at every moment on the smooth stones, but for the arabs, whose bare feet gave them a better hold, and who held us fast. and now we are on a level and move along a very low passage, crouching almost on our hands and knees, till we raise our heads and stand in the queen's chamber--so called for no reason that we know but that it is smaller than the king's. returning from this, we find ourselves at the foot of the grand gallery, or, as it might be called, grand staircase (as in its lofty proportions it is not unlike one of the great staircases in the old palaces of genoa and venice), which ascends into the heart of the pyramid. this is a magnificent hall, feet long, feet high, and feet wide. but the ascent as before is over smooth and polished limestone, to climb which is like climbing a cone of ice. we could not have got on at all but for the nimble arabs, whose bare feet enabled them to cling to the slippery stone like cats, and who, grasping us in their naked arms, dragged us forward by main force. the ladies shrank from this kind of assistance, as they were sometimes almost embraced by these swarthy creatures. but there was no help for it. this kind of bodily exercise, passive and active, soon brought on an excessive heat. we were almost stifled. our faces grew red; i tore off my cravat to keep from choking. still, like a true american, i was willing to endure anything if only i got ahead, and felt rewarded when we reached the top of the grand gallery, and instead of looking _up_, looked _down_. from this height we creep along another passage till we reach the object of our climbing, in the lofty apartment called the king's chamber. this is the heart of the great pyramid--the central point for which apparently it was built, and where, if anywhere, its secret is to be found. at one end lies the sarcophagus (if such it was; if the pyramid was designed to be a tomb) in which the great cheops was buried. it is now tenantless, except by such fancies as travellers choose to fill it withal. i know not what sudden freak of fancy took me just then, perhaps i thought, how would it seem to be a king even in his tomb? and instantly i threw myself down at full length within the sarcophagus, and lay extended, head thrown back, and hands folded on my breast, lying still, as great cheops may have lain, when they laid him in his royal house of death. it was a soft bed of dust, which, as i sank in it, left upon my whole outward man a _marked_ impression. it seemed very like ordinary dust, settled from the clouds raised by the arabs in their daily entrances to show the chamber to visitors. but it was much more poetical to suppose that it was the mouldering dust of cheops himself, in which case even the mass that clung to my hair might be considered as an anointing from the historic past. from this i was able to relieve myself, after i reached home that night, by a plentiful application of soap and water; but alas, my gray travelling suit bore the scars of battle, the "dust of conflict," much longer, and it was not till we left suez that a waiter of the ship took the garment in hand, and by a vigorous beating exorcised the stains of egypt, so that pharaoh and his host--or his dust--were literally cast into the red sea. and now we were all in the king's chamber, our party of eight, with three times the number of arabs. the latter were at first quite noisy, after their usual fashion, but dr. grant, who speaks arabic, hushed them with a peremptory command, and they instantly subsided, and crouched down by the wall, and sat silent, watching our movements. one of the party had brought with him some magnesium wire, which he now lighted, and which threw a strong glare on the sides and on the ceiling of the room, which, whether or not intended for the sepulchre of kings, is of massive solidity--faced round with red granite, and crossed above with enormous blocks of the same rich dark stone. with his subject thus illuminated, dr. grant pointed out with great clearness those features of the king's chamber which have given it a scientific interest. the sarcophagus, which is an oblong chest of red granite, in his opinion, as in that of piazzi smyth, is not a sarcophagus at all; indeed it looks quite as much like a huge bath-tub as a place of burial for one of the pharaohs. he called my attention to the fact that it could not have been introduced into the pyramid by any of the known passages. it must, therefore, have been built in it. it is also a singular fact that it has no cover, as a sarcophagus always has. no mummy was ever found in it so far as we have any historic record. piazzi smyth, in his book, which is full of curious scientific lore, argues that it was not intended for a tomb, but for a fixed standard of measures, such as was given to moses by divine command. it is certainly a remarkable coincidence, if nothing more, that it is of the exact size of the ark of the covenant. but without giving too much importance to real or supposed analogies and correspondences, we must acknowledge that there are many points in the king's chamber which make it a subject of curious study and of scientific interest; and which seem to show that it was constructed with reference to certain mathematical proportions, and had a design beyond that of being a mere place of burial. after we had had this scientific discussion, we prepared for a discussion of a different kind--that of the lunch which we had brought with us. a night's ride sharpens the appetite. as the only place where we could sit was the sarcophagus itself, we took our places in it, sitting upon its granite sides. an arab who knew what we should want, had brought a pitcher of water, which, as the heat was oppressive, was most grateful to our lips, and not less acceptable to remove the dust from our eyes and hands. thus refreshed, we relished our oranges and cakes, and the tiny cups of turkish coffee. to add to the weirdness of the scene, the arabs asked if we would like to see them perform one of their native dances? having our assent, they formed in a circle, and began moving their bodies back and forth, keeping time with a strange chant, which was not very musical in sound, as the dance was not graceful in motion. it was quickly over, when, of course, the hat was passed instantly for a contribution. the colonel proposed the health of cheops! poor old cheops! what would he have said to see such a party disturbing the place of his rest at such an hour as this? i looked at my watch; it was midnight--an hour when the dead are thought to stir uneasily in their graves. might he not have risen in wrath out of his sarcophagus to see these frivolous moderns thus making merry in the place of his sepulture? but this midnight feast was not altogether gay, for some of us thought how we should be "far away on the morrow." for weeks and months we had been travelling together, but this excursion was to be our last. we were taking our parting feast--a fact which gave it a touch of sadness, as the place and the hour gave it a peculiar interest. and now we prepared to descend. i lingered in the chamber to the last, waiting till all had gone--till even the last attendant had crawled out and was heard shouting afar off--that i might for a moment, at least, be alone in the silence and the darkness in the heart of the pyramid; and then, crouching as before, followed slowly the lights that were becoming dimmer and dimmer along the low and narrow passage. arrived at the top of the grand gallery, i waited with a couple of arabs till all our party descended, and then lighting a magnesium wire, threw a sudden and brilliant light over the lofty walls. it was one o'clock when we emerged from our tomb to the air and the moonlight, and found our carriages waiting for us. the moon was setting in the west as we rode back under the long avenue of trees, and across the sacred nile. it was three o'clock when we reached our hotel, and bade each other good-night and good-bye. early in the morning two of us were to leave for india on our way around the world, and others were to turn their faces towards the holy land and italy. but however scattered over europe and america, none of us will ever forget our midnight in the heart of the great pyramid. in recalling this memory of egypt, my object is not merely to furnish a poetical and romantic description, but to invite the attention of the most sober readers to what may well be a study and an instruction. this pyramid was the greatest of the seven wonders of the world in the time of the greeks, and it is the only one now standing on the earth. may it not be that it contains some wisdom of the ancients that is worthy the attention of the boastful moderns; some secret and sacred lore which the science of the present day may well study to reveal? it may be (as piazzi smyth argues in his learned book) that we who are now upon the earth have "an inheritance in the great pyramid;" that it was built not merely to swell the pride of the pharaohs, and to be the wonder of the egyptians; but for our instruction, on whom the ends of the world are come. without giving our adhesion in advance to any theory, there are certain facts, clearly apparent, which give to this structure more than a monumental interest. for thousands of years it had been supposed to have been built for a royal tomb--for that and that only. so perhaps it was--and perhaps not. at any rate a very slight observation will show that it was built also for other purposes. for example: observe its geographical position. it stands at the apex of the delta of the nile, and piazzi smyth claims, in the centre of the habitable globe! he has a map in which its point is fixed _in_ africa, yet between europe and asia, and which shows that it stands in the exact centre of the land surface of the whole world. this, if it be an accident, is certainly a singular one. then it is exactly on the thirtieth parallel of latitude, and it stands four-square, its four sides facing exactly the four points of compass--north, south, east, and west. now the chances are a million to one that this could not occur by accident. there is no need to argue such a matter. it was certainly done by design, and shows that the old egyptians knew how to draw a meridian line, and to take the points of compass, as accurately as the astronomers of the present day. equally evident is it that they were able to measure the solar year as exactly as modern astronomers. taking the sacred cubit as the unit of measure there are in each side of the pyramid just ¼ cubits, which gives not only the number of days in the year, but the six hours over! that it was built for astronomical purposes, seems probable from its very structure. professor proctor argues that it was erected for purposes of astrology! never was there such an observatory in the world. its pinnacle is the loftiest ever placed in the air by human hands. it seems as if the pyramid were built like the tower of babel, that its top might "touch heaven." from that great height one has almost a perfect horizon, looking off upon the level valley of the nile. it is said that it could not have been ascended because its sides were covered with polished stone. but may there not have been a secret passage to the top? it is hard to believe that such an elevation was not made use of by a people so much given to the study of the stars as were the ancient egyptians. in some way we would believe that the priests and astrologers of egypt were able to climb to that point, where they might sit all night long looking at the constellations through that clear and cloudless sky; watching orion and the pleiades, as they rose over the mokattam hills on the other side of the nile, and set behind the hills of the libyan desert. there is another very curious fact in the pyramid, that the passage by which it is entered points directly to the north star, and yet not to the north star that now is, but to alpha draconis, which was the north star four thousand years ago. this is one way in which the age of the pyramid is determined, for it is found by the most exact calculations that years before christ, a man placed at the bottom of that passage, as at the bottom of a well, and looking upward through that shaft, as if he were looking through the great telescope of lord rosse, would fix his eye exactly on the north star--the pole around which was revolving the whole celestial sphere. as is well known, this central point of the heavens changes in the lapse of ages, but that star will come around to the same point in , years more, when, if the pyramid be still standing, the observers of that remote period can again look upward and see alpha draconis on his throne, and mark how the stars "return again" to their places in the everlasting revolutions of the heavens. as to the measurement of _time_, all who have visited astronomical observatories know the extreme and almost infinite pains taken to obtain an even temperature for clocks. the slightest increase of temperature may elongate the pendulum, and so affect the duration of a second, and this, though it be in a degree so infinitesimal as to be almost inappreciable, yet becomes important to the accuracy of computations, when a unit has to be multiplied by hundreds of millions, as it is in calculating the distances of the heavenly bodies. to obviate this difficulty, astronomical clocks are sometimes placed in apartments under ground, closed in with thick walls (where even the door is rarely opened, but the observations are made through a glass window), so that it cannot be affected by the variations of temperature of the outer world. but here, in the heart of this mountain of stone, the temperature is preserved at an absolute equilibrium, so that there is no expansion by heat and no contraction by cold. what are all the observatories of greenwich, and paris and pulkowa, to such a rock-built citadel as the great pyramid? but not only was the pyramid designed to stand right in its position towards the earth and the heavenly bodies; but also, and perhaps chiefly (so argues prof. smyth) was it designed for metrological (not met_eo_rological) purposes--to furnish an exact standard of weights and measures. the unit of lineal measure used in the pyramid he finds to correspond not to the english _foot_, nor to the french _metre_, but to the hebrew _sacred cubit_. this is certainly a curious coincidence, but may it not prove simply that the latter was derived from the former? moses was learned in all the wisdom of the egyptians, and may have brought from the valley of the nile weights and measures, as well as customs and laws. but this cubit itself, wherever it came from, has some very remarkable correspondences. french and english mathematicians and astronomers have had great difficulty to fix upon an exact standard of lineal measure. their method has been to take some length which had an exact relation to one of the unchangeable spaces or distances of the globe itself. thus the english inch is one five hundred millionth part of the axis of the earth. but prof. smyth finds in the great pyramid a still better standard of measure. the cubit contains twenty-five of what he calls "pyramid inches," and fifty of these are just equal to one ten-millionth part of the earth's axis of rotation! he finds in the pyramid a greater wonder still in a measure for determining the distance of the earth from the sun, which is the unit for calculating the distances of the heavenly bodies! that which scientific expeditions have been sent into all parts of the earth within the last two years to determine by more accurate observations of the transit of venus, is more exactly told in the great pyramid erected four thousand years ago! it is a very fascinating study to follow this learned professor in his elaborate calculations. he seems to think the whole of the exact sciences contained in the great pyramid. the vacant chest of red granite in the king's chamber, over which egyptologists have puzzled so much, is to him as the very ark of the lord. that which has been supposed to be a sarcophagus, with no other interest than as having once held a royal mummy, he holds not to be the tomb of cheops, or of any of the kings of egypt, but a sacred coffer intended to serve as a standard of weights and measures for all time to come. he thinks it accomplishes perfectly the arithmetical feat of squaring the circle!--the height being to the circumference of the base, as the radius is to the circumference of a circle. but the great pyramid has, to professor smyth, more than a scientific--it has a religious interest. he is a scotchman, and not only a man of science, but one who believes, with all the energy of his scotch nature, in a divine revelation; and as might be supposed, he connects this monument of scientific learning with one who is the source of all wisdom and knowledge. however great may have been the wisdom of the egyptians, he does not believe that they had a knowledge of geodesy and astronomy greater than the most learned scientific men of our day. he has another explanation, that the great pyramid was built by the guidance of him who led the israelites out of egypt, and who, as he shone upon their path in the desert, now shines by this lighthouse and signal tower upon the blindness and ignorance of the world. he believes that the pyramid was constructed by divine inspiration just as much as the jewish tabernacle; that as moses was commanded to fashion everything according to the pattern showed to him in the mount, so some ancient king of egypt, working under divine inspiration, builded better than he knew, and wrought into enduring stone, truths which he did not perhaps himself understand, but which were to be revealed in the last time, and to testify to a later generation the manifold wisdom of god. as to its age he places it somewhere between the time of noah and the calling of abraham. dr. grant even thinks it was built before the death of noah! but mankind could hardly have multiplied in the earth in the lifetime of even the oldest of the patriarchs, so as to be capable of building such monuments. the theory is that it was not built by an egyptian architect. there is a tradition mentioned in herodotus of a shepherd who came from a distant country, from the east, who had much to do with the building of the pyramid, and was regarded as a heavenly visitant and director. prof. smyth thinks it probable, that this visitor was melchisedek! he even gives the pyramid a prophetic character, and thinks that the different passages and chambers are designed to be symbolical of the different economies through which god educates the race. the entrance at first _descends_. that may represent the gradual decadence of mankind to the time of the flood, or to the exodus of the israelites. then the passage begins to _ascend_, but slowly and painfully, which represents the jewish dispensation, when men were struggling towards the light. after a hundred and twenty-seven feet of this stooping and creeping upward, there is a sudden enlargement, and the low passage rises up into the grand gallery, just as the mosaic economy, after groping through many centuries, at last bursts into the full glory of the christian dispensation. believing in its inspired character, he finds in every part of this wonderful structure signs and symbols. taking it as an emblem of christian truth, where is the chief corner-stone? not at the base, but at the top--the apex! at the bottom, there are four stones which are equal--no one of which is above another--the _chief_ corner-stone therefore must be the capstone! it will be perceived that this is a very original and very sweeping theory; that it overturns all our ideas of the great pyramid; that it not only turns cheops out of it, but turns science and revelation together into it. we may well hesitate before accepting it in its full extent, and yet we must acknowledge our indebtedness to prof. smyth. he has certainly given a new interest to this hoary monument of the past. scientific men who reject his theory are still deeply interested in the facts which he brings to light, which they recognize as very extraordinary, and which show a degree of scientific knowledge which not only they did not believe to exist among the egyptians, but which hardly exists in our day. so much as this we may freely concede, that the pyramid has a scientific value, if not a sacred character; that it is full of the wisdom of the egyptians, if not of the inspiration of the almighty; and that it is a storehouse of ancient knowledge, even if it be not the very ark of the covenant, in which the holiest mysteries are enshrined! leaving out what may be considered fanciful in the speculations of the scotch astronomer, there is yet much in the facts he presents worthy the consideration of the man of science, as well as the devout attention of the student of the bible, and which, if duly weighed, will at once enlarge our knowledge and strengthen our faith. such are the lessons that we derive from even our slight acquaintance with the great pyramid; and so, as we looked back that night, and saw it standing there in the moonlight, its cold gray summit, its "chief corner-stone," pointing upwards to the clear unclouded firmament, it seemed to point to something above the firmament--to turn our eyes and thoughts to heaven and to god. chapter viii. leaving egypt--the desert. we left cairo the next morning. our departure from egypt was not exactly like that of the israelites, though we came through the land of goshen, and by the way of the red sea. we did not flee away at night, nor hear the rush of horses and chariots behind us. indeed we were very reluctant to flee at all; we did not like to go away, for in those five or six weeks we had grown very fond of the country, to which the society of agreeable travelling companions lent an additional charm. but the world was all before us, and necessity bade us depart. it was the th of january, the beginning of the feast of bairam, the mohammedan passover. the guns of the citadel ushered in the day, observed by all devout mussulmans, which commemorates the sacrifice by abraham--not of isaac, but of _ishmael_, for the arabs, who are descendants of ishmael, have no idea of his being set aside by the other son of the father of the faithful. on this day every family sacrifices the paschal lamb (which explains the flocks of sheep which we had seen for several days in the streets of the city), and sprinkles its blood upon the lintels and doorposts of their houses, that the angel of death may pass them by. the day is one of general rejoicing and festivity. the khedive gives a grand reception to all the foreign representatives at his palace of gezireh, at which i had been invited to be present. but from this promised pleasure i had to tear myself away, to reach the steamer at suez on which we were to embark the next day for india. but if we missed the khedive, we had at least a compensation, for as we were at the station, who should appear but nubar pasha! he had just resigned the ministry of foreign affairs, which took a load off his shoulders, and felt like a boy out of school, and was now going off to a farm which he has a few miles from cairo, to have a holiday. he immediately came to us and took a seat in the same carriage, and we sat together for an hour, listening to his delightful conversation, as he talked of egypt with a patriot's love and a poet's enthusiasm. there is no man who more earnestly wishes its prosperity, and it would be well for the khedive if he were always guided by such advisers. at the station his servants met him with one of those beautiful white donkeys, so much prized in the east, and as he rode away waving his hand to us, we felt that we were parting from one of the wisest and wittiest men whom it had been our good fortune to meet in all our travels. at zagazig, the railroad from cairo unites with that from alexandria. here we stopped to dine, and while waiting, a special train arrived with mr. cave, who has come out from london to try and put some order into the financial affairs of egypt. if he succeeds, he will deserve to be ranked very high as a financier. he was going on to ismailia to meet m. de lesseps, that they might go through the suez canal together. and now we leave behind us the rich land of goshen, where joseph placed his father jacob and his brethren, with their flocks and herds; we leave the fertile meadows and the palm groves. we are on the track of the israelites; we have passed rameses, the first station in their march, and entered the desert, that "great and terrible wilderness" in which they wandered forty years. we enter it, not on camels or horses, but drawn by a steed of fire. a railway in the desert! this is progress indeed. there is something very imposing to the imagination in the idea of an iron track laid in the pathless sands, over which long trains move swifter than "the swift dromedaries," and carrying burdens greater than the longest caravans. these are the highways of civilization, which may yet carry it into the heart of africa. here, too, are the great ships, passing through the suez canal, whose tall masts are outlined against the horizon, as they move slowly from sea to sea. and now we are approaching the border line between asia and africa. it is an invisible line; no snow-capped mountains divide the mighty continents which were the seats of the most ancient civilization; no sea flows between them: the red sea terminates over seventy miles from the mediterranean; even the suez canal does not divide asia and africa, for it is wholly in egypt. nothing marks where africa ends and asia begins, but a line in the desert, covered by drifting sands. and yet there is something which strangely touches the imagination, as we move forward in the twilight, with the sun behind us, setting over africa, and before us the black night coming on over the whole continent of asia. so would i take leave of africa--in the night and in the desert. byron closes his childe harold with an apostrophe to the ocean, his pilgrim ending his wanderings on the shore. the desert is like the sea: it fills the horizon, and shuts out the sight of "busy cities far away," leaving one on the boundless plain, as on the ocean--alone with the night. perhaps i may be indulged in some quiet musings here, before we embark on the red sea, and seek a new world in india. but what can one say of the desert? the subject seems as barren as its own sands. _life_ in the desert? there is _no_ life; it is the very realm of death, where not a blade of grass grows, nor even an insect's wing flutters over the mighty desolation; the only objects in motion, the clouds that flit across the sky, and cast their shadows on the barren waste below; and the only sign that man has ever passed over it, the bleaching bones that mark the track of caravans. but as we look, behold "a wind cometh out of the north," and stirring the loose sand, whirls it into a column, which moves swiftly towards us like a ghost, as if it said: "i am the spirit of the desert; man, wherefore comest thou here? pass on. if thou invadest long my realm of solitude and silence, i will make thy grave." we shall not linger, but only "tarry for a night," to question a little the mystery that lies hidden beneath these drifting sands. we look again, and we see shadowy forms coming out of the whirlwind--great actors in history, as well as figures of the imagination. the horizon is filled with moving caravans and marching armies. ancient conquerors pass this way for centuries from asia into africa, and back again, the wave of conquest flowing and reflowing from the valley of the tigris to the valley of the nile. as we leave the land of goshen, we hear behind us the tramp of the israelites beginning their march; and as the night closes in, we see in another quarter of the horizon the wise men of the east coming from arabia, following their guiding star, which leads them to bethlehem, where christ was born. and so the desert which was "dead" becomes "alive;" a whole living world starts up from the sands, and glides into view, appearing suddenly like arab horsemen, and then vanishing as if it had not been, and leaving no trace in the sands any more than is left by a wreck that sinks in the ocean. but like the sea, it has its passing life, which has a deep human interest. and not only is there a life of the desert, but a literature which is the expression of that life--a history and a poetry, which take their color from these peculiar forms of nature--and even a music of the desert, sung by the camel-drivers, to the slow movement of the caravan, its plaintive cadence keeping time to the tinkling of the bells. it has been one of the problems of physical geographers: what was the _use_ of deserts in the economy of nature? a large part of africa is covered by deserts. the libyan desert reaches to the sahara, which stretches across the continent. all this seems an utterly waste portion of the earth's surface. the same question has been raised in regard to the sea: why is it that three-fourths of the globe are covered by water? perhaps the same answer may be given in both cases. these vast spaces may be the generators and purifiers of the air we breathe--the renovators of our globe's atmosphere. and the desert has its beauty as well as its utility. it is not all a dead level, a boundless monotony, but is billowy like the sea, with great waves of sand cast up by the wandering winds. the color, of course, is always the same, for there is no green thing to relieve the yellow sand. but nature sometimes produces great effects with few materials. this monotony of color is touched with beauty by the glow of sunset, as the light of day fades over the wide expanse. sunrise and sunset on the desert have all the simple but grand effects of sunrise and sunset on the ocean. what painter that has visited egypt has not tried to put on canvas that after-glow on the nile, which is alike his wonder and his despair? egypt is one of the favorite countries sought by european artists, who seek to catch that marvellous color which is the effect of its atmosphere. they find many a subject in the desert. with the accessories of life, few as they are, it presents many a scene to attract a painter's eye, and furnishes full scope to his genius. a great artist finds ample material in its bare and naked outlines, relieved by a few solitary figures--the arab and his tent, or the camel and his rider. perhaps the scene is simply a few palm trees beside a spring, under whose shade a traveller has laid him down to rest from the noon-tide heat, and beside him are camels feeding! but here is already a picture. with what effect does gérome give the prayer in the desert, with the camel kneeling on the sands, and his rider kneeling beside him, with his face turned towards mecca; or death in the desert, where the poor beast, weary and broken, is abandoned to die, yet murmurs not, but has a look of patience and resignation that is most pathetic, as the vultures are seen hovering in the air, ready to descend on their prey! a _habitat_ so peculiar as the desert must produce a life as peculiar. it is of necessity a lonely life. the dweller in tents is a solitary man, without any fixed ties, or local habitation. whoever lives on the desert must live alone, or with few companions, for there is nothing to support existence. it must be also a nomadic life. if the arab camps, with his flocks and herds, in some green spot beside a spring, yet it is only for a few days, for in that time his sheep and cattle have consumed the scanty herbage, and he must move on to some new resting-place. thus the life of the desert is a life always in motion. the desert has no settled population, no towns or villages, where men are born, and grow up, and live and die. its only "inhabitants" are "strangers and pilgrims," that come alone or in caravans, and pitch their tents, and tarry for a night, and are gone. such a life induces peculiar habits, and breeds a peculiar class of virtues and vices. nomadic tribes are almost always robbers, for they have to fight for existence, and it is a desperate struggle. but, on the other hand, their solitary life as well as the command of the prophet, has taught them the virtue of hospitality. living alone, they feel at times the sore need of the presence of their kind, and welcome the companionship even of strangers. an arab sheik may live by preying on travellers, but if a wanderer on the desert approaches his tent and asks shelter and protection, he gives it freely. even though the old chief be a robber, the stranger sleeps in peace and safety, and his entertainer is rewarded by the comfort of seeing a human face and hearing a human voice. to traverse spaces so vast and so desolate would not be possible were it not for that faithful beast of burden which nature has provided. horses may be used by the bedouins on their marauding expeditions, but they keep near the borders of the desert, where they can make a dash and fly; but on the long journey across the great sahara, by which the outer world communicates with the interior of africa, no beast could live but the camel, which is truly the ship of the desert. paley might find an argument for design in the peculiar structure of the camel for its purpose; in its stomach, that can carry water for days, and its foot, which is not small like that of the horse, but broad, to keep the huge animal from sinking in the sands. it serves as a snow-shoe, and bears up both the beast and his rider. then it is not hard like a horse's hoof, that rings so sharp on the pavement, but soft almost like a lion's paw. and tall as the creature is, he moves with a swinging gait, that is not unpleasant to one accustomed to it, and as he comes down on his soft foot, the arab mother sits at ease, and her child is lulled to rest almost as if rocked in a cradle. thus moving on in these slow and endless marches, what so natural as that the camel-riders should beguile their solitude with song? the lonely heart relieves itself by pouring its loves and its sorrows into the air; and hence come those arabian melodies, so wild and plaintive and tender, which constitute the music of the desert. some years since a symphony was produced in paris, called "the desert," which created a great sensation, deriving its peculiar charm from its unlikeness to european music. it awakened, as it were, a new sense in those who had been listening all their lives to french and german operas. it seemed to tell--as music only tells--the story of the life of the desert. in listening one could almost see the boundless plain, broken only by the caravan, moving slowly across the waste. he could almost "feel the silence" of that vast solitude, and then faintly in the distance was heard the tinkling of the camel-bells, and the song of the desert rose upon the evening air, as softly as if cloistered nuns were singing their vesper hymns. the novel conception took the fancy of the pleasure seekers of paris, always eager for a new sensation. the symphony made the fame of the composer, felicien david, who was thought to have shown a very original genius in the composition of melodies, such as europe had not heard before. the secret was not discovered until some french travellers in the east, crossing the desert, heard the camel-drivers singing and at once recognized the airs that had so taken the enthusiasm of paris. they were the songs of the arabs. the music was born on the desert, and produced such an effect precisely because it was the outburst of a passionate nature brooding in solitude. music and poetry go together: the life that produces the one produces the other also. and as there is a music of the desert, so there is a poetry of the desert. indeed the desert may be almost said to have been the birthplace of poetry. the book of job, the oldest poem in the world, older than homer, and grander than any uninspired composition, was probably written in arabia, and is full of the imagery of the desert. but while the mind carols lightly in poetry and music, its deeper musings take the form of religion. it is easy to see how the life of the desert must act upon a thoughtful and "naturally religious" mind. the absence of outward objects throws it back upon itself; and it broods over the great mystery of existence. coleridge's ancient mariner, when he was "alone on the wide, wide sea," found that "so lonely 'twas that god himself scarce seemèd there to be." but in the desert one may say there is nothing but god. if there is little of earth, there is much of heaven. the glory of the desert is at night, when the full moon rises out of the level plain, as out of the sea, and walks the unclouded firmament. and when she retires, then all the heavenly host come forth. the atmosphere is of such exquisite purity, that the stars shine with all their splendor. no vapor rises from the earth, no exhalation obscures the firmament, which seems all aglow with the celestial fires. it was such a sight that kindled the mind of job, as he looked up from the arabian deserts three thousand years ago, and saw orion and the pleiades keeping their endless march; and as led him to sing of the time "when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of god shouted for joy." is it strange that god should choose such a vast and silent temple as this for the education of those whom he would set apart for his own service? here the israelites were led apart to receive the law from the immediate presence of god. the desert was their school, the place of their national education. it separated them from their own history. it drew a long track between them and the bitter past. it was a fit introduction to their new life and their new religion, as to their new country. in such solitudes god has had the most direct communion with the individual soul. it was in the desert that moses hid himself in a cleft of the rock while the lord passed by; that the lord answered job out of the whirlwind; and from it that john the baptist came forth, as the voice of one crying in the wilderness. so in later ages holy men who wished to shun the temptations of cities, that they might lead lives of meditation and prayer, fled to the desert, that they might forget the world and live for god alone. this was one of the favorite retreats of monasticism in the early christian centuries. the tombs of the thebaïd were filled with monks. convents were built on the cliffs of mount sinai that remain to this day. we do not feel the need of such seclusion and separation from the world, but this passing over the desert sets the mind at work and supplies a theme for religious meditation. is not life a desert, where, as on the sea, all paths are lost, and the traveller can only keep his course by observations on the stars? and are we not all pilgrims? do we not all belong to that slow moving caravan, that marches steadily across the waste and disappears in the horizon? can we not help some poor wanderer who may be lonely and friendless, or who may have faltered by the way; or guide another, if it be only to go before him, and leave our footprints in the sands, that "a forlorn and shipwrecked brother, seeing may take heart again?" chapter ix. on the red sea and the indian ocean. suez lies between the desert and the sea, and is the point of departure both for ships and caravans. but the great canal to which it gives its name, has not returned the favor by giving it prosperity. indeed the country through which it passes derives little benefit from its construction. before it was opened, egypt was on the overland route to india, from which it derived a large revenue. all passengers had to disembark at alexandria and cross by railroad to suez; while freight had to be unshipped at the one city and reshipped at the other, and thus pay tribute to both. now ships pass directly from the mediterranean into the canal, and from the canal into the red sea, so that the englishman who embarks at southampton, need not set his foot on the soil of egypt. thus it is not egypt but england that profits by the opening of the suez canal; while egypt really suffers by the completion of a work which is of immense benefit to the commerce of the world. though the suez canal is an achievement of modern times, yet the idea is not modern, nor indeed the first execution. it was projected from almost the earliest period of history, and was begun under the pharaohs, and was at one time completed, though not, as now, solely for the passage of ships, but also as a defence, a gigantic moat, which might serve as a barrier against invasions from asia. there is nothing in suez to detain a traveller, and with the morning we were sailing out in one of the native boats, before a light wind, to the great ship lying in the harbor, which was to take us to india. we had, indeed, a foretaste, or rather fore_sight_, of what we were soon to look upon in the farthest east, as we saw some huge elephants moving along the quay; but these were not familiar inhabitants, but had just been disembarked from a ship arrived only the day before from bombay--a present from the viceroy of india to the viceroy of egypt. once on board ship i was as in mine own country, for now, for the first time in many months, did i hear constantly the english language. we had been so long in europe, and heard french, german, italian, greek and turkish; and arabic in egypt; that at first i started to hear my own mother tongue. i could not at once get accustomed to it, but called to the waiter "garçon," and was much surprised that he answered in english. but it was very pleasant to come back to the speech of my childhood. henceforth english will carry me around the globe. it is the language of the sea, and of "the ends of the earth;" and it seems almost as if the good time were coming when the whole earth should be of one language and of one speech. and now we are on the red sea, one of the historical seas of the world. not far below the town of suez is supposed to be the spot where the israelites were hemmed in between the mountains and the sea; where moses bade the waves divide, and the fleeing host rushed in between the uplifted walls, feeling that, if they perished, the waters were more merciful than their oppressors; while behind them came the chariots of their pursuers. it was long before we lost sight of egypt. on our right was the egyptian coast, still in view, though growing dimmer on the horizon; and as we sat on deck at evening the gorgeous sunsets flamed over those shores, as they did on the nile, as if reluctant to leave the scene of so much glory. on the other side of the sea stretched the peninsula of sinai, with its range of rugged mountains, among which the eye sought the awful summit from which god gave the law. this eastern side of the red sea has been the birthplace of religions. half way down the coast is jhidda, the port of mecca. thus islam was born not far from the birthplace of judaism, of which in many features it is a close imitation. i have asked many times, what gave the name to the red sea? certainly it is not the color of the water, which is blue as the sea anywhere. it is said that there is a phosphorescent glow, given by a marine insect, which at night causes the waters to sparkle with a faint red light. others say it is from the shores, which being the borders of the desert, have its general sandy red, or yellow, appearance. i remember years ago, when sailing along the southern coast of wales, a gentleman, pointing to some red-banked hills, said they reminded him of the shores of the red sea. but whether they have given it its name or not, these surrounding deserts have undoubtedly given it its extreme heat, from which it has become famous as "the hottest place in the world." the wind blowing off from these burning sands, scorches like a sirocco; nor is the heat much tempered by the coolness of the sea--for indeed the water itself becomes heated to such a degree as to be a serious impediment to the rapid condensation of steam. we began to feel the heat immediately after leaving suez. the very next day officers of the ship appeared in white linen pantaloons, which seemed to me a little out of season; but i soon found that they were wiser than i, especially as the heat increased from day to day as we got more into the tropics. then, to confess the truth, they sometimes appeared on deck in the early morning in the most negligé attire. at first i was a little shocked to see, not only officers of the ship, but officers of the army, of high rank, coming on deck after their baths barefoot; but i soon came to understand how they should be eager, when they were almost burning with fever, to be relieved of even the slightest addition to weight or warmth. in the cabin, _punkas_, long screens, were hung over the tables, and kept swinging all day long. the deck was hung with double awnings to keep off the sun; and here the "old indians" who had made this voyage before, and knew how to take their comfort in the hot climate, were generally stretched out in their reclining bamboo-chairs, with a cigar in one hand and a novel in the other. the common work of the ship was done by lascars, from india, as they can stand the heat much better than english sailors. they are docile and obedient, and under the training of english officers make excellent seamen. but we must not complain, for they tell us our voyage has been a very cool one. the thermometer has never been above degrees, which however, considering that this is _midwinter_, is doing pretty well! if such be the heat in january, what must it be in july? then it is fairly blistering; the thermometer rises to and degrees in the shade; men stripped of clothing to barely a garment to cover them, are panting with the heat; driven from the deck, they retreat to the lower part of the ship, to find a place to breathe; sometimes in despair, the captain tells me, they turn the ship about, and steam a few miles in the opposite direction, to get a breath of air; and yet, with all precautions, he adds that it is not an infrequent thing, that passengers overpowered sink under a sunstroke or apoplexy. such heat would make the voyage to india one of real suffering, and of serious exposure, were it not for the admirable ships in which it can be made. but these of the peninsular and oriental company are about as perfect as anything that swims the seas. we were fortunate in hitting upon the largest and best of the fleet, the peshawur. accustomed as we have been of late to the smaller steamers on the mediterranean, she seems of enormous bulk, and is of great strength as well as size; and being intended for hot climates, is constructed especially for coolness and ventilation. the state-rooms are much larger than in most sea-going steamers, and though intended for three persons, as the ship was not crowded (there were berths for passengers, while we had but , just one-fifth the full complement) we had each a whole state-room to ourselves. there were bath-rooms in ample supply, and we took our baths every morning as regularly as on land. on the peshawur, as on all english ships, the order and discipline were admirable. every man knew his place, and attended to his duty. everything was done silently, and yet so regularly that one felt that there was a sharp eye in every corner of the ship; that there was a vigilant watch night and day, and this gave us such a sense of safety, that we lay down and rose up with a feeling of perfect security. besides, the officers, from the captain down, not only took good care for the safety of our lives, but did everything for our comfort. they tried to make us feel at home, and were never so well pleased as when they saw us all pleasantly occupied; some enjoying games, and others listening to music, when some amateur was playing on the piano, at times accompanied by a dozen manly and womanly voices. music at sea helps greatly to beguile the tedium of a voyage. often the piano was brought on deck, at which an extemporized choir practised the hymns for public service; among which there was one that always recurred, and that none can forget: "eternal father, strong to save, whose arm hath bound the restless wave, who bid'st the mighty ocean deep its own appointed limits keep: oh, hear us when we cry to thee for those in peril on the sea." and when the sunday morning came and the same prayers were read which they had been accustomed to hear in england, many who listened felt that, whatever oceans they might cross, here was a tie that bound them to their island home, and to the religion of their fathers. on the morning of the sixth day we passed the island of perim, which guards the gates of the red sea, and during the day passed many islands, and were in full sight of the arabian coast, and at the evening touched at aden. here the heat reaches the superlative. in going down the red sea, one may use all degrees of comparison--hot, hotter, hottest--and the last is aden. it is a barren point of rock and sand, within twelve degrees of the equator, and the town is actually in the crater of an extinct volcano, into which the sun beats down with the heat of nebuchadnezzar's furnace. but the british government holds it, as it commands the entrance to the red sea, and has fortified it, and keeps a garrison here. however it mercifully sends few english soldiers to such a spot, but supplies the place chiefly with native regiments from india. all the officers hold the place in horror, counting it a very purgatory, from which it is paradise to be transferred to india. but from this point the great oppression of the heat ceased. rounding this rock of aden, we no longer bore southward (which would have taken us along the eastern coast of africa, to the island of zanzibar, the point of departure for livingstone to explore the interior, and of stanley to find him), but turned to the east, and soon met the northeast monsoon, which, blowing in our faces, kept us comparatively cool all the way across the indian ocean. and now our thoughts began to be busy with the strange land which we were soon to see, a land to which most of those on board belonged, and of which they were always ready to converse. strangers to each other, we soon became acquainted, and exchanged our experiences of travel. beside me at the table sat a barrister from bombay, and next to him three merchants of that city, who, leaving their families in england, were returning to pursue their fortunes in india. one had been a member of the governor's council, and all were familiar with the politics and the business of that great empire. there was also a missionary of the free church of scotland, who, after ten years' service, had been allowed a year and a half to recruit in the mother country, and was now returning to his field of labor in bombay, with whom i had many long talks about the religions of india and the prospects of missions. there was a fine old gentleman who had made his fortune in australia, to which he was returning with his family after a visit to england. the military element, of course, was very prominent. a large proportion of the passengers were connected in some way with the army, officers returning to their regiments, or officers' wives returning to their husbands. of course those who live long in india, have many experiences to relate; and it was somewhat exciting to hear one describe the particulars of a tiger hunt--how the game of all kind was driven in from a circuit of miles around by beaters, and by elephants trained for the work; how the deer and lesser animals fled frightened by, while the hunter, bent on royal game, disdained such feeble prey, and every man reserved his fire, sitting in his howdah on the back of an elephant till at last a magnificent bengal tiger sprang into view, and as the balls rained on his sides, with a tremendous bound he fell at the feet of the hunters; or to hear a major who had been in india during the mutiny, describe the blowing away of the sepoys from the mouths of cannon; with what fierce pride, like indian warriors at the stake, they shrank not from the trial, but even when not bound, stood unmoved before the guns, till they were blown to pieces, their legs and arms and mangled breasts scattered wide over the field. there was a surgeon in the bengal staff corps, dr. bellew, who had travelled extensively in the interior of asia, attached to several missions of the government, and had published a volume, entitled "from the indus to the tigris." he gave me some of his experiences in afghanistan, among the men of cabul, and in persia. three years since he was attached to the mission of sir douglas forsyth to kashgar and yarkund. this was a secret embassy of the government to yakoob beg, the tartar chief, who by his courage as a soldier had established his power in those distant regions of central asia. in carrying out this mission, the party crossed the himalayas at a height far greater than the top of mont blanc. our fellow traveller gave us some fearful pictures of the desolation of those snowy wastes, as well as some entertaining ones of the strange manners of some parts of high asia. he passed through little thibet, where prevails the singular custom of polyandry--instead of one man having many wives, one woman may have many husbands, although they cannot be of different families. she can marry half a dozen brothers at once, but must not extend her household into another family. he was now bound for nepaul, under the shadow of the himalayas, being ordered to report at once to the maharajah, who is preparing to receive the prince of wales, and to entertain him with the grandest tiger hunt ever known in india. with such variety of company, and such talk to enliven the hours, as we sat on deck at twilight, or by moonlight--for we had the full moon on the indian ocean--the days did not seem long, and we were almost taken by surprise as we approached the end of our voyage. on the afternoon of the twelfth day from suez we were nearing our destined port, and eyes and glasses were turned in that direction; but it was not till the sun was setting that his light shone full on the ghauts, the range of mountains that line the western coast of india--steps, as their name implies, to the high table-land of the interior. presently as the darkness deepened, the revolving light of the lighthouse shot across the deep; signal guns from the city announced the arrival of the mail from england; rows of lamps shining for miles round the bay lighted up the waters and the encircling shore; and, there was india! chapter x. bombay--first impressions of india. never did travellers open their eyes with more of wonder and curiosity than we, as we awoke the next morning and went on deck and turned to the unaccustomed shore. the sun had risen over the ghauts, and now cast his light on the islands, covered with cocoanut palms, and on the forest of shipping that lay on the tranquil waters. here were ships from all parts of the world, not only from the mediterranean and from england, but from every part of asia and africa, and from australia. a few weeks before had been witnessed here a brilliant sight at the landing of the prince of wales. a long arched way of trellis work, still hung with faded wreaths, marked the spot where the future emperor of india first set foot upon its soil. our ship, which had anchored off the mouth of the harbor, now steamed up to her moorings, a tug took us off to the mazagon bunder, the landing place of the peninsular and oriental company, where we mounted a long flight of granite steps to the quay--and were in india. passing through the custom house gates, we were greeted not by the donkey-boys of egypt, but by a crowd of barefooted and barelegged hindoos, clad in snowy white, and with mountainous turbans on their heads, who were ambitious of the honor of driving us into the city. the native carriage (or _gharri_, as it is called) is not a handsome equipage. it is a mere box, oblong in shape, set on wheels, having latticed windows like a palanquin, to admit the air and shut out the sun. mounting into such a "state carriage," our solemn hindoo gave rein to his steed, and we trotted off into bombay. as our destination was watson's hotel, in the english quarter at the extreme end of the city, we traversed almost its whole extent. the streets seemed endless. on and on we rode for miles, till we were able to realize that we were in the second city in the british empire--larger than any in great britain except london--larger than liverpool or glasgow, or manchester or birmingham. of course the population is chiefly native, and this it is which excites my constant wonder. as i ride about i ask myself, am i on the earth, or in the moon? surely this must be some other planet than the one that i have known before. i see men as trees walking, but they are not of any familiar form or speech. perhaps it is because we are on the other side of the world, and everything is turned topsy-turvy, and men are walking on their heads. we may have to adopt the darwinian theory of the origin of man; for these seem to be of another species, to belong to another department of the animal kingdom. that old hindoo that i see yonder, sitting against the wall, with his legs curled up under him, seems more like a chimpanzee than a man. he has a way of sitting on his _heels_ (a posture which would be impossible for a european, but which he will keep for hours), which is more like an animal than a human creature. truly we have never been in such a state of bewilderment since we began our travels, as since we landed in bombay. constantinople seemed strange, and egypt stranger still; but india is strangest of all. the streets are swarming with life, as a hive swarms with bees. the bazaars are like so many ant-hills, but the creatures that go in and out are not like any race that we have seen before. they are not white like europeans, nor black like africans, nor red like our american indians; but are pure asiatics, of a dark-brown color, the effect of which is the greater, as they are generally clad in the garments which nature gives them. the laboring class go half naked, or more than half. it is only the house-servants that wear anything that can be called a costume. the coolies, or common laborers, have only a strip of cloth around their loins, which they wear for decency, for in this climate they scarcely need any garment for warmth. one thing which is never omitted is the turban, or in its place a thick blanket, to shield the head from the direct rays of the sun. but there is nothing to hide the swarthy breast or limbs. those of a better condition, who do put on clothing, show the oriental fondness for gorgeous apparel by having the richest silk turbans and flowing robes. the women find a way to show their feminine vanity, being tricked out in many colors, dark red, crimson and scarlet, with yellow and orange and green and blue--the mingling of which produces a strange effect as one rides through the bazaars and crowded streets, which gleam with all the colors of the rainbow. the effect of this tawdry finery is heightened by the gewgaws which depend from different parts of their persons. earrings are not sufficiently conspicuous for a hindoo damsel, who has a ring of gold and pearl hung in her nose; which is considered a great addition to female beauty. heavy bracelets of silver also adorn her wrists and ankles. almost every woman who shows herself in the street, though of the lowest condition, and barefoot, still gratifies her pride by huge silver anklets clasping her naked feet. but these asiatic faces, strange as they are, would not be unattractive but for artificial disfigurements--if men did not chew the betel nut, which turns the lips to a brilliant red, and did not have their foreheads striped with coarse pigments, which are the badges of their different castes! imagine a whole city crowded with dark skinned men and women thus dressed--or not dressed--half naked on the one hand, or bedizened like harlequins on the other, walking about, or perchance riding in little carriages _drawn by oxen_--a small breed that trot off almost as fast as the donkeys we had in cairo--and one may have some idea of the picturesque appearance of the streets of bombay. we are becoming accustomed to the manners and customs of this eastern world. we never sit down to dinner but with the punka swinging over us, and the "punka-walla," the coolie who swings it, is a recognized institution. in the hot months it is kept swinging all night, and europeans sleep under it. these things strike us strangely at first, but we soon get used to these tropical devices, and in fact rather like them. in a few days we have become quite oriental. to confess the truth, there are some things here in the east that are not at all disagreeable to the natural man, especially the devices for coolness and comfort, and the extreme deference to europeans, which we begin to accept as naturally belonging to us. at first i was surprised and amused at the manners of the people. it was a new sensation to be in this asiatic atmosphere, to be surrounded and waited upon by soft-footed hindoos, who glided about noiselessly like cats, watching every look, eager to anticipate every wish before they heard the word of command. i was never the object of such reverence before. every one addressed me as "sahib." i did not know at first what this meant, but took it for granted that it was a title of respect--an impression confirmed by the deferential manner of the attendants. i could not walk through the corridor of the hotel without a dozen servants rising to their feet, who remained standing till i had passed. i was a little taken aback when a turbaned oriental, in flowing robe, approached me with an air of profound reverence, bending low, as if he would prostrate himself at my feet. if he desired to present a petition to my august majesty (which was, probably, that i would buy a cashmere shawl), he bowed himself almost to the ground, and reached down his hand very low, and then raising it, touched his forehead, as if he would take up the dust of the earth and cast it on his head, in token that he was unworthy to enter into such an awful presence. i never knew before how great a being i was. there is nothing like going far away from home, to the other side of the world, among hindoos or hottentots, to be fully appreciated. after a little experience, one learns to accept these hindoo salaams and obeisances. now, when i walk down the passages of the hotel, and snowy turbans rise on either side in token of homage, i bow in acknowledgment, though very slightly, so as not to concede a particle of my dignity, or encourage any familiarity. when i open my door in the morning, i find half a dozen coolies in the passage, who have curled up on mats and slept there all night, as napoleon's mameluke slept before his master's door. it gives one a sense of dignity and importance to be thus served and guarded and defended! i suspect all of us have a little (or a good deal) of the asiatic in our composition, and could easily play the pasha and drop into these soft eastern ways, and find it not unpleasant to recline on a divan, and be waited on by dusky slaves! we find that we are in a tropical climate by the heat that oppresses us. although it is midwinter, we find it prudent as well as pleasant to remain indoors in the middle of the day (time which is very precious for writing), and make our excursions in the morning or evening. morning in the tropics is delightful. there is a dewy freshness in the air. rising at daylight we take a small open carriage--a kind of "one horse shay"--for our ride. it has but one seat, but the hindoo driver, nimble as a cat, crouches at our feet, with his legs dangling over the side in front of the wheels, and thus mounted we gallop off gayly. one of our morning excursions was to the flower market, where the fruits and flowers of the country are displayed with truly tropical profusion. the building, designed with english taste, is of great extent, surrounding a spacious court, which is laid out like a garden, with fountains and ferns, and flowering shrubs and creepers growing luxuriantly. here are offered for sale all kinds of poultry and birds, parrots, and even monkeys. the flower market is especially brilliant, as flowers are the customary offerings at temples. they are very cheap. five cents bought a large bunch of roses. white jessamines and yellow marigolds are wrought into wreaths and garlands for their festivities. the fruits we liked less than the flowers. they were very tempting to the eye, but too rich for our appetite. the famous mango cloyed us with its sweetness. indeed, i made the observation here, which i had to repeat afterwards in java, that the tropical fruits, though large and luscious, had not the delicate flavor of our northern fruits. a good new jersey peach would have been far sweeter to my taste than the ripest orange or mango, or the longest string of bananas. in the evening we ride out to malabar hill, or go to the public gardens which english taste has laid out in different parts of the city. although bombay is a city of hindoos, yet the stamp of english rule is everywhere impressed upon it. like the cities of great britain, it is thoroughly governed. the hand of a master is seen in its perfect police, its well ordered and well lighted streets. there are signs of its being gained by conquest and held by military power. the english quarter is still called the fort, being on the site of an old fortress, the ramparts of which are all swept away, and in their place are wide streets (indeed too wide for shade), and a number of public buildings--government offices, the postoffice, and the telegraph building, and the university--which would be an ornament to any city in england. here english taste comes in to add to its natural beauty in the laying out of open squares. our windows at the hotel look out upon the esplanade, a large parade ground, the very spot where the sepoys were shot away from the guns after the mutiny, and upon the sea, from which comes at evening a soft, delicious air from the indian ocean. it is a pretty sight to go here at sunset, when the band is playing and there is a great turnout of carriages, bringing the fashion and wealth of bombay to listen to the music and inhale the fresh breezes from the sea, that no doubt are sweeter to many in that they seem to come from their beloved england. in the crowd of well dressed people wealthy parsees (distinguished by their high hats), and hindoos by their turbans, mingle with english officers, and the children of all run about together on the lawn. my companion noticed particularly the parsee children, whose dresses were gay with many colors--little fellows shining in pink trousers, blue shirts, green vests, and scarlet caps! others had satin trousers and vests of some bright color, and over all white muslin or lace trimmings. the effect of such a variety of colors was as if parterres of flowers were laid out on the smooth shaven lawn. in another part of the city the victoria gardens are set out like a botanical garden, with all manner of plants and trees, especially with an endless variety of palms, under which crowds saunter along the avenues, admiring the wonders of tropical vegetation, and listening to the music that fills the evening air. the environs of bombay are very beautiful. few cities have a more delightful suburb than malabar hill, where the english merchant, after the business of the day is over, retreats from the city to enjoy a home which, though indian without, is english within. hundreds of bungalows are clustered on these eminences, shaded with palms and embowered in tropical foliage, with steep roofs, always thatched as a better protection from the sun. here the occupants sit at evening on the broad verandahs, stretched in their long bamboo chairs, enjoying the cool air that comes in from the sea, and talk of england or of america. there are not many americans in bombay, although in one way the city is, or was, closely connected with our country. nowhere was the effect of our civil war more felt than in india, as it gave a great impetus to its cotton production. under the sudden and powerful stimulus, bombay started up into an artificial prosperity. fortunes were made rapidly. the close of the war brought a panic from which it has not yet recovered. but the impulse given has remained, and i am told that there is at this moment more cotton grown in india than ever before, although the fall in prices has cut off the great profits. but the cost of transportation is much less, as the railroads constructed within a few years afford the means of bringing it to market, where before it had to be drawn slowly over the mountains in ox-carts. this flow of cotton to the seaports has been turned to account by the erection of cotton mills (several of which have been started here in bombay), which, under the direction of englishmen, and having the double advantage of native cotton and native labor, may yet supplant english fabrics in the markets of india. though there are few americans (except the missionaries) here, yet there is one who has all the enterprise of his countrymen, mr. kittredge, who came out to india many years ago, and is now the head of the old house of stearns, hobart & co. he has introduced that peculiarly american institution, the street railway--or tramway, as it is called here--which is a great comfort in moving about the city, where transportation before was chiefly by little ox-carts. the cars run smoothly, and as they are open at the sides are delightfully cool. the hindoos, though slow in adopting new ideas or new ways, take to these as an immense convenience. not the least good effect is the pressure which they bring to bear on caste, by forcing those of different castes to sit side by side! a very singular people, found in bombay, and nowhere else in india, are the parsees, who differ from the hindoos both in race and religion. they are followers of zoroaster, the philosopher of persia, from which they were driven out centuries ago by the merciless followers of the prophet, and took refuge in western india, and being, as a class, of superior intelligence and education, they have risen to a high position. they are largely the merchants of bombay, and among them are some of its wealthiest citizens, whose beautiful houses, surrounded with gardens, line the road to parell, the residence of the governor. they are fire-worshippers, adoring it as the principle of life. morning and evening they may be seen uncovering their heads, and turning reverently to the rising or the setting sun, and offering their adoration to the great luminary, which they regard as the source of all life on earth. as i have seen them on the seashore, turning their faces to the setting sun, and lifting their hands as if in prayer, i have thought, that if this be idolatry, it is at least not so degrading as that of the hindoos around them, for if they bow to a material object, it is at least the most glorious which they see in nature. the more intelligent of them, however, explain that it is not the sun itself they worship, but only regard it as the brightest symbol and manifestation of the invisible deity. but they seem to have an idolatrous reverence for fire, and keep a lamp always burning in their houses. it is never suffered to go out day nor night, from year to year. the same respect which they show to fire, they show also to the other elements--earth, air, and water. a revolting application of their principles is seen in their mode of disposing of the dead. they cannot burn them, as do the hindoos, lest the touch of death should pollute the flames; nor can they bury them in the earth, nor in the sea, for earth and water and air are all alike sacred. they therefore expose the bodies of their dead to be devoured by birds of the air. outside of bombay, on malabar hill, are three or four circular towers--called the towers of silence, which are enclosed by a high wall to keep observers at a distance. when a parsee dies, his body is conveyed to the gates, and there received by the priests, by whom it is exposed on gratings constructed for the purpose. near at hand, perched in groves of palms, are the vultures. we saw them there in great numbers. as soon as a funeral procession approaches, they scent their prey, and begin to circle in the air; and no sooner is a body uncovered, and left by the attendants, than a cloud of black wings settles down upon it, and a hundred horned beaks are tearing at the flesh. such are their numbers and voracity, that in a few minutes--so we are told--every particle is stripped from the bones, which are then slid down an inclined plane into a deep pit, where they mingle with common clay. compared with this, the hindoo mode of disposing of the dead, by burning, seems almost like christian burial. yet it is done in a mode which is very offensive. in returning from malabar hill one evening, along the beautiful drive around the bay, we noticed a number of furnace-like openings, where fires were burning, from which proceeded a sickening smell, and were told that this was the burning of the bodies of the hindoos! this mode of disposing of the dead may be defended on grounds of health, especially in great cities. but, at any rate, i wish there was nothing worse to be said of the hindoos than their mode of treating the forms from which life has departed. but their religion is far more cruel to the living than to the dead. to one who has never been in a pagan country, that which is most new and strange is its idolatry. bombay is full of temples, which at certain hours are crowded with worshippers. here they flock every morning to perform their devotions. there is nothing like the orderly congregation gathered in a christian house of worship, sitting quietly in their places, and listening to a sermon. the people come and go at will, attending to their devotions, as they would to any matter of business. a large part of their "worship" consists in washing themselves. with the hindoos as with the mohammedans, bathing is a part of their religion. the temple grounds generally enclose a large tank, into which they plunge every morning, and come up, as they believe, clean from the washing. at the temple of momba davi (the god who gives name to bombay), we watched these purifications and other acts of worship. within the enclosure, beside the temple filled with hideous idols, there was the sacred cow (which the people would consider it a far greater crime to kill than to kill a christian) which chewed her cud undisturbed, though not with half so much content as if she had been in a field of sweet-scented clover; and there stood the peepul tree, the sacred tree of india (a species of banyan), round which men and women were walking repeating their prayers, and leaving flowers as offerings at its foot. this latter custom is not peculiar to pagan countries. in christian as well as in heathen lands flowers are laid on the altar, as if their beauty were grateful to the unseen eye, and their perfume a kind of incense to the object of devotion. inside the enclosure men were being washed and shaved (on their heads as well as on their faces), and painted on their foreheads (as catholics might be with the sign of the cross) to mark the god they worship. and not only in the temples, but along the streets, in the houses, which were open to the view of passers-by, people were taking plentiful ablutions, almost a full bath, and making their toilet, quite unembarrassed by the presence of strangers. these observances (if divested of any religious value) are not to be altogether condemned. the habit of frequent bathing is very useful in a sanitary point of view, especially in this hot climate. but that which most excites our admiration is the scrupulous regularity of the hindoos in their worship. they have to "do their pooja" (that is, make their offerings and perform their devotions) before they go to their work, or even partake of food! here is an example of religious fidelity worthy of christian imitation. the religious ideas of the hindoos show themselves in other ways, which at least challenge our respect for their consistency. in their eyes all life is sacred, the life of beast and bird, nay, of reptile and insect, as well as of man. to carry out this idea they have established a hospital for animals, which is one of the institutions of bombay. it is on a very extensive scale, and presents a spectacle such as i do not believe can be seen anywhere else in the world. here, in an enclosure covering many acres, in sheds, or stables, or in the open grounds, as may best promote their recovery, are gathered the lame, the halt, and the blind, not of the human species, but of the animal world--cattle and horses, sheep and goats, dogs and cats, rabbits and monkeys, and beasts and birds of every description. even poor little monkeys forgot to be merry, and looked very solemn as they sat on their perch. the cows, sacred as they were, were yet not beyond the power of disease, and had a most woe-begone look. long rows of stables were filled with broken-down horses, spavined and ring-boned, with ribs sticking out of their sides, or huge sores on their flanks, dripping with blood. in one pen were a number of kittens, that mewed and cried for their mothers, though they had a plentiful supply of milk for their poor little emaciated bodies. the hindoos send out carts at night and pick them up wherever they have been cast into the street. rabbits, whom no man would own, have here a snug warren made for them, and creep in and out with a feeling of safety and comfort. in a large enclosure were some hundred dogs, more wretched-looking than the dogs of constantinople--"whelps and curs of low degree." these poor creatures had been so long the companions of man that, ill-treated as they were, starved and kicked, they still apparently longed for human society, and as soon as they saw us they seemed to recognize us as their deliverers, and set up a howling and yelping, and leaped against the bars of their prison house, as if imploring us to give them liberty. and here is a collection of birds to fill an extensive aviary, though in their present condition they do not look exactly like birds of paradise. there are not only "four black crows," but more than any farmer would like to see in his wheat field (for india is the land of crows). tall cranes, that had been wont to step with long legs by the marshy brink of rivers, here were bandaged and splintered till they could walk once more. broken-winged seagulls, that could no more sweep over the boundless sea, free as its own waves, were nursed till they could fly again. the spectacle thus presented was half touching and half ludicrous. one cannot but respect the hindoo's regard for life, as a thing not to be lightly and wantonly destroyed. and yet they carry it to an extent that is absurd. they will not take the life of animals for food, nor even of creatures that are annoying or dangerous to themselves. many will not crush the insects that buzz around them and sting them, nor kill a cobra that crawls into their houses, even when it threatens to bite them or their children. it has been said that they even nurse serpents, and when recovered, turn them loose into the jungle; but of this we saw no evidence. but certainly many wretched creatures, whose existence is not worth keeping, which it were a mercy to let die, are here rescued and brought back to life. while walking through these grounds in company with a couple of missionaries, i thought how much better these animals were cared for than some men. i was thinking of some of our broken-down ministers at home, who, after serving their people faithfully for a whole generation, are at last sent adrift without ceremony, like an old horse turned out by the roadside to die! what lives of drudgery and toil do such ministers lead! they are "beasts of burden," more than any beast of the field. and when their working days are over, can they not be cared for as well as the hindoos care for old horses and camels? if only these shattered wrecks (and magnificent wrecks some of them are) were towed into port and allowed to rest in tranquil waters; or (to change the figure) if these old veterans were housed and warmed and fed and nursed as carefully as the hindoos nurse their broken-down animals, we should have fewer of those instances of cruel neglect which we sometimes hear of to our sorrow and shame! of the antiquities of india, one of the most notable is found here in the caves of elephanta, which are on an island lying off the harbor. we set apart a day to this visit, which we made with a couple of americans and a couple of englishmen, the latter of whom we met first in bombay, but who were to keep us company a large part of our journey around the world. we were to embark at the apollo bunder, and while waiting here for our boat (a steam launch which is used for this purpose), a snake-charmer desired to entertain us with the dexterous manner in which he handled cobras, taking them up like kittens, coiling them round his neck, and tossing them about in a very playful and affectionate manner. no doubt their fangs had been completely extracted before he indulged in these endearments. a very cruel form of sport was to throw one on the ground, and let it be set upon by a mangoose, a small animal like a weasel, that is not poisoned by the bite of serpents, and attacks them without hesitation. one of these the man carried in a bag for the purpose. as soon as let loose, the little creature flew at the snake spitefully, as a terrier dog would at a rat, and seized it by the head, and bit it again and again with its sharp teeth, and left it covered with blood. as we expressed our disgust at this cruelty, the juggler assured us that the deceitful reptile was not dead (in fact as soon as laid on the ground it began to wriggle), and that he would take it by the tail and hold it up, and pour water on its head, and it would come all right again. he did not say, but no doubt thought, "and will be all ready for torture when the next american or englishman comes along." by this time the steam launch had come round to the bunder, and we got on board. it was a little mite of a vessel, just big enough for the half dozen of us, with a steam boiler not much larger than a teapot, that wheezed as if it had the asthma. but it did its work well, and away we shot swiftly across the beautiful bay. the island of elephanta is seven miles from the city, and takes its name from a gigantic statue of an elephant that once stood upon its shore. landing here, we found ourselves at the foot of a rocky hill, which we mounted by several hundred steps, and stood at the entrance of a gigantic cave or cavern cut into the hill-side, with a lofty ceiling, pillared like a temple. the main hall, as it might be called, runs back a hundred and thirty feet into the solid rock. the first thing that struck me on entering was the resemblance to the temples of egypt. though in size and extent it does not approach the ruins of karnak, yet one recognizes the same massive architecture in this temple, which is literally "cut out of a mountain," its roof the overhanging cliff, supported by rows of heavy columns. the resemblance to egypt appears also in the symbol of divinity and the objects of worship; the sacred bull in one country answering to the sacred cow in the other; and the serpent, the same hooded cobra, rearing its head on the front of the temples of thebes, and in the caves of elephanta. at the end of the great hall are the objects of worship in three colossal images of brahma, vishnu, and shiva. this is the hindoo trinity, and the constant recurrence of these figures in their mythology shows how the idea of a trinity pervaded other ancient religions besides our own. it is a question for scholars, whence came the original conception of this threefold personality in the divine being, whether from revelation, or from a tradition as old as the human race. the faces are egyptian--immobile like the sphinx, with no expression of eagerness or desire, but only of calm and eternal repose. such was the blessedness of the gods, and such the beatitude sought by their worshippers. the age of the caves of elephanta is not known, but they must be of a great antiquity. for many centuries this rock-temple has been the resort of millions of worshippers. generation after generation have the poor people of india crossed these waters to this sacred island, and climbed wearily up this hill as if they were climbing towards heaven. that such a religion should have lived for thousands of years, and be living still (for the worship of brahma and vishnu and shiva is still the religion of india), is a reflection that gives one but little hope for the future of the human race. chapter xi. leaving bombay--travelling in india--allahabad--the mela. we had been in bombay a week, and began to feel quite at home, when we had to leave. a man who undertakes to go around the world, must not stop too long in the soft places. he must be always on the march, or ready to start at the tap of the drum. we had a long journey before us, to the north of india, and could not linger by the way. so we set out just at evening. much of the travelling in india is at night, to avoid the heat of the day. the sun was setting over the waters as we moved slowly out of the station at bombay, and sweeping around the shores, caught our last glimpse of the western sea, and then rushed off for the mountains. "you'll need to take beds with you," said our friends, foreseeing that we might have to lie down in rough places. so we procured for each of us what is called a resai, a well-stuffed coverlet, which answered the purpose of a light mattress. there are no sleeping-cars in india; but the first-class carriages have generally a sofa on either side, which may be turned into a sort of couch. on these sofas, having first secured a whole compartment, we spread our resais, with pillows on which to rest our weary heads, and stretch ourselves "to sleep--perchance to dream." but the imagination is so busy that sleep comes but slowly. i often lie awake for hours, and find a great peace in this constant wakefulness. it was quite dark when we found ourselves climbing the ghauts (what in california would be called the coast range), a chain of mountains not very high, but which separates the coast from the table-land of the interior. as the train moved more slowly, we perceived that we were drawing up a heavy incline. this slow motion soothes one to slumber, and at length we closed our eyes, and when the morning broke, found that we had passed the summit, and were rushing on over an open country, not unlike our western prairies. these were the plains of india--a vast plateau, broken here and there, but preserving its general character across the whole peninsula from bombay to calcutta, and north to the himalayas. in this month of january, these plains are without verdure to give them beauty. the trees keep their foliage, and here and there is a broad-spreading banyan, or a mango grove, with its deep shade. but we miss the fresh green grass and the flowers that come only with the spring. landscapes which are not diversified in surface by hills and valleys are only relieved from monotony by varieties of color. these are wanting now, and hence the vast plain is but "a gray and melancholy waste" like the sea. we visit india in winter because the summer would be too oppressive. but in choosing this season, we have to sacrifice that full glory when nature comes forth in all the richness of tropical vegetation. it is in the rainy season that the earth bursts suddenly into bloom. then the dead plain, so bleak and bare, in a few days is covered with a carpet of green, and decked with innumerable flowers. but there are drawbacks to that gorgeous time and that prodigality of nature. with the bursting into light of the vegetable world, the insect world also comes forth. all the insects that buzz and sting, fill the summer air; and then the reptile world creeps abroad. out of millions of holes, where they have slept all winter long, crawl cobras and other deadly serpents, and all slimy things. on the whole, therefore, i am content to see india in its sombre dress, and be spared some other attendants of this tropical world. nor is there much animal life to give animation to the scene. a few cattle are grazing here and there. now a deer startled looks up, as we go by, or a monkey goes leaping across the fields, but not a wild beast of any kind is seen--not even a wild-cat or a jackal. as for birds, storks are at home in india as much as in holland. red flamingoes haunt "the plashy brink, or marge of river wide," while on the broad open plain the birds most seen are crows! they are very tame, and quite familiar with the rest of the animal creation, a favorite perch being the backs of cows or buffaloes, where they light without resistance, and make themselves at home. they are said to be very useful as scavengers. that is quite possible; but however useful, they are certainly not beautiful. in these long stretches of course we pass hundreds of villages, but these do not attract the eye nor form a feature in the landscape, for the low mud hovels of which they are composed hardly rise above the level of the plain. there is no church spire to be seen, as from a new england village, nor even the dome or minaret of a mosque, for we are not yet in the mohammedan part of india. one feature there is which relieves the monotony--the railway stations are the prettiest i have seen out of england. simply but tastefully built, they are covered with vines and flowers, which with irrigation easily grow in this climate in the open air at all seasons of the year. the railway administration has offered prizes for the embellishment of stations, so that the natives, who are fond of flowers, and who are thus tempted by the hope of reward, plant roses and trail vines everywhere, so that the eye is relieved from the glare of the barren plain by resting on a mass of flowers and verdure. in their internal arrangements, too, these stations are models of comfort, which might furnish an example to us in america. wherever we are to breakfast or lunch ("take tiffin") or dine, we find a table neatly spread, with soft-footed hindoos gliding about to serve us, and with plenty of time to eat in peace, without that rushing which makes travel in america such a hurry and fatigue. i am often asked about the difficulty of travelling in india, to which i answer that there is no difficulty, except from the climate, and that is to be guarded against by going in the cold season. there are railroads all over the country, and if mr. pullman would only introduce his sleeping-cars, made more open to give more ventilation in this hot climate, one might travel in india with as perfect comfort as in any part of europe or america. but with all these comforts, and all that there is to divert the eye, the way seems long. it is not till one reaches india that he comprehends how vast a country it is--not only in density of population, but in extent of territory. in "magnificent distances" it is almost equal to america itself: all small ideas are dispelled as soon as one leaves the coast, and penetrates into the interior. our first stage from bombay to allahabad was miles, which took us not only the first night and the day after, but the second night also, so that it was not till the morning of the third day that we found ourselves crossing the long bridge over the jumna into the city which is the great railroad centre in india--a sort of half-way station, both on the "trunk line" from bombay to calcutta, and on the line to the north of india. by this time we were glad of rest, and willingly exchanged our railway carriage for a hotel, where we found the luxury of baths, which refreshed us so that in an hour or two we were able to come forth "clad in fine linen, white and clean," and ride about to see the sights of the town. allahabad is not a city of so much historical interest as many others, but it has grown very much within a few years. the railroads have given such an impulse to its business, and increase to its population, that it has now , inhabitants. it is the capital of the northwest provinces, and thus has a political as well as a commercial importance. owing to its position, it has been chosen as a convenient centre for missionary operations, and is the seat of one of the best organized missions of our presbyterian board. here we met some excellent countrymen, who at once took us to their hearts and homes: and though reluctant to accept hospitality, or to trespass on their kindness, yet it was impossible to refuse an invitation so cordially given, which took us from a great barrack of a hotel to a refined american home. our board is fortunate in owning for its mission premises a large "compound," an enclosure of many acres, on the banks of the jumna--obtained years ago at a nominal price, and which costs now only the small tax of fifty rupees (twenty-five dollars) a year. here under one broad roof were rev. mr. kellogg and his family--a wife and four children--and mr. wynkoop, and mr. heyl: dr. brodhead had just left for america. in the compound stands a neat chapel, in which met three years ago the great conference of missionaries of different denominations from all parts of india, the most memorable gathering of the kind ever held in this country. here there is a service in hindostanee every sabbath. in another building is a school of pupils, under charge of mr. heyl. he has also, to give sufficient variety to his occupation, to look after an asylum for the blind, and another for lepers. rev. messrs. holcomb and johnson live in other parts of the city, where there is a printing-press and a large depository for the sale of bibles and tracts in the different languages of india. all of these missionaries, besides preaching in churches, preach in the streets and bazaars, and spend some months of the year in itinerating through the villages in a large circuit of country, living in tents, and speaking to the people by the roadside, or in groves, or in their houses, wherever they can find them--a work which they enjoy greatly. thus with preaching in city and country, and keeping up their schools, and looking after printing presses, writing and publishing books and tracts, they have their hands full. nor can i overlook our countrywomen in allahabad. there is here a "zenana mission," supported by the society of the good mrs. doremus, and also two ladies connected with the presbyterian board, one of whom, miss wilson, devotes herself to visiting in the zenanas, while the other, miss seward, is a physician, practising with great success in many of the best native families, thus rendering a physical as well as a spiritual service. she is a niece of the late secretary of state, william h. seward, who when in india paid her a visit, and was so impressed with what she was doing so quietly and yet so effectively; with the access which her medical skill and her feminine tact gave her to the interior life of the people; that on his return to america he summed up the result of all his observations of missions in this brief counsel: "make all your missionaries women, and give them all a medical education." allahabad has a proud name--the city of god; but one sees not much to render it worthy of that exalted title. it is however, in the estimation of the hindoos a sacred city, as it stands at the junction of the jumna and the ganges, the two sacred rivers of india, which issuing out of the glaciers of the himalayas, hundreds of miles to the north, here unite, and flow on in a broader stream, and with an increased volume of sanctity. the point of junction is of course a very holy place--one of the most sacred in india--and draws to it more pilgrims than mecca. every year hundreds of thousands of pilgrims, come from all parts of india to bathe in these holy waters. this is the méla--or great religious festival--which was now in progress. the missionaries congratulated us that we had arrived at such an opportune moment, as we had thus an opportunity of witnessing a spectacle which would show more of hindooism than any other that we could see in india, unless it might be in the holy city of benares. on a saturday evening we rode down to the place of the encampment, which we found covering a wide sandy plain at the junction of two rivers. it was a camp-meeting of magnificent dimensions. the tents or booths were laid out in streets, and sometimes grouped in a hollow square, which for the time being was a compact and populous city. as the evening was not the hour for bathing, we did not go down to the river bank, but strolled among the camps to see the people. at every tent fires were burning, and they were cooking their food. our friends led the way to the camp of the sikhs, the famous warrior race of the punjaub, who form a sect by themselves, and, strange to say, are not idolators. they follow the teachings of a prophet of their own, and like the mohammedans, make it a special virtue, that they do not worship idols. but the old instinct is too strong for them, and while they do not bow to images, they pay a reverence to their sacred book--the writings of their teacher--which is little short of idolatry. at several places in their camp was something like an altar, a raised platform which was too holy for us to ascend, where sat a priest reading from this volume, before which all knelt as at the shrine of a saint, while they scattered flowers around it as a kind of incense or adoration. in other parts of the camp men were blowing horns and making all sorts of hideous noise, as an intense way of offering devotions. this mockery of religion moved the indignation of our friends, who opened their mouths boldly in exposure of such folly and superstition, but they found that those whom they addressed did not shrink from the encounter. some of them were very keen in argument. they have a subtle philosophy at the bottom of their worship, which they explained with a good deal of ingenuity, and tried to illumine by apt analogies and illustrations. like all hindoos, they were most liberal in their tolerance of other religions--much more so than the mohammedans--generously conceding that our religion was best _for us_, while claiming that theirs was best _for them_. they did not try to convert us, and saw no reason why we should try to convert them. this was the broad church indeed, large enough for "all sorts and conditions of men." they even went further, and paid us not only the respect due to men, but to gods. one of the fakirs said to us in so many words: "you are god and i am god!" this tells the whole story in a sentence. their creed is the baldest pantheism: that god is in everything, and therefore everything is god. as all life comes from him, he is in everything that lives--not only in man, but in beasts, and birds, and reptiles. all alike are incarnations of a divine life, and hence all alike are fit objects of adoration. man can adore himself. he need not carry any burden of sorrow or guilt; he need not know repentance or shame; for how can he mourn for impulses which are but the inspirations of the god in him, or for acts which are but the manifestations of the universal soul? this was our first close contest with hindooism, but still we had not seen the méla till we had seen the bathing of the pilgrims in the ganges, which was still in reserve. the festival lasts a month--like the ramadan of the mohammedans--and is regulated by the changes of the moon. the day of the new moon, which was last wednesday, was the great day of the feast. on that day there was a grand procession to the river, in which there were twenty-five elephants, mounted by their _mahants_ (a sort of chief priests), with hundreds of fakirs on foot, and a vast crowd in all the frenzy of devotion. on monday, as the moon was approaching her first quarter, there was likely to be a large concourse, though not equal to the first, and we made arrangements to be on hand to witness a spectacle such as we had never seen before, and should probably never see again. rev. mr. holcomb came very early in the morning with his carriage, to take us to the riverside. as we drove along the roads, we passed thousands who were flocking to the place of bathing. some rode in ox-carts, which carried whole families; now and then a mounted horseman dashed by; while a long row of camels told of a caravan that had toiled wearily over a great distance, perhaps from the foot of the himalayas or the vale of cashmere, to reach the sacred spot. but the greater part of those who came were on foot, and looked like pilgrims indeed. most of them carried on their shoulders a couple of baskets, in one of which was their food, and in the other the ashes of their dead, which they had brought from their homes, sometimes hundreds of miles, to cast into the sacred waters of the ganges. the carriage brought us only to the bund, near the fort--a huge embankment of earth raised to keep out the waters at the time of the annual risings, and which during the past year had saved the city from inundation. here our friends had provided an elephant to take us through the crowd. the huge creature was waiting for us. the mahout who stood at his head now mounted in an extraordinary manner. he merely stepped in front of the elephant, and took hold of the flaps of his ears, and put up a foot on his trunk, which the beast raised as lightly as if the man had been a feather, and thus tossed his rider upon his head. a word of command then brought him to his knees, when a ladder was placed against his side, and we climbed to the top, and as he rose up, were lifted into the air. an elephant's back is a capital lookout for observation. it raises one on high, from which he can look down upon what is passing below; and the mighty creature has not much difficulty in making his way through even the densest crowd. he moved down the embankment a little slowly at first, but once on level ground, he strode along with rapid strides; while we, sitting aloft, regarded with amazement the scene before us. indeed it was a marvellous spectacle. here was a vast camp, extending from river to river. far as the eye could reach, the plain was covered with tents and booths. we had no means of estimating the number of people present. mr. kellogg made a rough calculation, as he stood in his preaching tent, and saw the crowd pouring by. fixing his eye on the tent-pole, with watch in hand, he counted the number that passed in a minute, and found it to be a hundred and fifty, which would make nine thousand in an hour. if this steady flow were kept up for four hours (as it began at daylight, and was continued, though with varying volume, through the forenoon), it would make thirty-six thousand; and reckoning those encamped on the ground at twenty thousand, the whole number would be over fifty thousand. this is a very small number, compared with that present at some times. last wednesday it was twice as great, and some years the multitude--which overflows the country for miles, like an inundation of the ganges--has been estimated at hundreds of thousands, and even millions. every twelve years there is a greater méla than at other times, and the concourse assumes extraordinary proportions. this came six years ago, in . that year it was said that there were present , fakirs alone, and on the great day of the feast it was estimated that a million of people bathed in the ganges. so fearful was the crush that they had to be marshalled by the police, and marched down to the river by ten or twenty thousand at a time, and then across a bridge of boats to the other side, returning by another way, so as to prevent a collision of the entering and returning mass, that might have occasioned a fearful loss of life. that year it was estimated that not less than two millions of pilgrims visited the méla. allowing for the common exaggeration in estimating multitudes, there is no doubt whatever that the host of pilgrims here has often been "an exceeding great army." i could not but look with pity at the ignorant creatures flocking by, but the feeling of pity changed to disgust at the sight of the priests by whom they were misled. everywhere were fakirs sitting on the ground, receiving the reverence of the people. more disgusting objects i never looked upon, not even in an asylum for the insane. they were almost naked; their hair, which they suffer to grow long, had become tangled and knotted, and was matted like swamp grass, and often bound round with thick ropes; and their faces smeared with filth. the meagerness of their clothing is one of the tokens of their sanctity. they are so holy that they do not need to observe the ordinary rules of decency. yet these filthy creatures are regarded not only with reverence, but almost worshipped. men--and women also--stoop down and kiss their feet. on wednesday some three hundred of these fakirs marched in procession _absolutely naked_, while crowds of women prostrated themselves before them, and kissed the very ground over which they had passed. one is amazed that such a disgusting exhibition was not prevented by the police. yet it took place under the guns of an english fort, and--greatest shame of all--instead of being suppressed, was accompanied and protected by the police, which, though composed of natives, wore the uniform, and obeyed the orders, of christian england! there are not many sights which make one ashamed of the english government in india, but surely this is one of them.[ ] how such "brute beasts" can have any respect or influence, is one of the mysteries of hindooism. but the common people, ignorant and superstitious, think these men have a power that is more than human, and fear to incur their displeasure. they dread their curses: for these holy men have a fearful power of imprecation. wherever they stroll through the country, no man dares to refuse them food or shelter, lest one of their awful curses should light upon his head, and immediately his child should die, or disaster should overtake his house. but let us pass on to the banks of the river, where the crowd is already becoming very great. to go among them, we get down from our elephant and walk about. was there ever such a scene--men, women, and children, by tens of thousands, in all stages of nakedness, pressing towards the sacred river? the men are closely shaved, as for every hair of their heads they gain a million of years in paradise! some had come in boats, and were out in the middle of the stream, from which they could bathe. but the greater part were along the shore. the water was shallow, so that they could wade in without danger; but to afford greater security, lines of boats were drawn around the places of bathing, to keep them from drowning and from suicide. it would not have been easy to make our way through such a crowd, had not the native police, with that respect for englishmen which is seen everywhere in india, cleared the way for us. thus we came down to the water's edge, passing through hundreds that were coming up dripping from the water, and other hundreds that were pressing in. they were of all ages and sexes. it was hard to repress our disgust at the voluntary debasement of men who might know better, but with these there were some wretched objects, who could only excite our pity--poor, haggard old women, who had dragged themselves to this spot, and children borne on their mothers' shoulders! in former times many infants were thrown into the ganges. this was the most common form of infanticide. but this practice has been stopped by the strong hand of the government. and now they are brought here only to "wash and be cleansed." even the sick were carried in palanquins, to be dipped in the healing waters; and here and there one who seemed ready to die was brought, that he might breathe his last in sight of the sacred river. i observed a great number of flags flying from tall poles in different parts of the ground, which made the place look like a military encampment. these marked the headquarters of the men who get up these mélas, and in so doing contrive to unite business with religion. during the year they perambulate the country, drumming up pilgrims. a reputation for sanctity is a stock in trade, and they are not too modest to set forth their own peculiar gifts, and invite those who come to the holy water to repair to their shop, where they can be "put through" in the shortest time, and for the least money. this money-making feature is apparent in all the arrangements of these pious pilgrimages. in keeping with these coarser features of the scene, was the presence of dancing girls, who gathered a group around them close to the bathing places, and displayed their indecent gestures on the banks of the holy river, to those who had just engaged in what they considered an act of moral purification. in other parts of the camp, retired from the river, was carried on the business of "religious instruction." here and there pundits, or learned brahmins, surrounded by large companies, chiefly of women, were reading from the shasters, which, considering that they got over the ground with great velocity, could hardly be very edifying to their hearers. this mattered little, however, as these sacred books are in sanscrit, which to the people is an unknown tongue. i was glad to see that these blind leaders of the blind did not have it all their own way. near by were the preaching-tents of several missionaries, who also drew crowds, to whom they spoke of a better religion. among them was rev. mr. macombie, who is a famous preacher. he is a native of india, and is not only master of their language, but familiar with their ideas. he knows all their arguments and their objections, and if a hearer interrupts him, whether a hindoo, or a mohammedan, he is very apt to get a shot which makes him sink back in the crowd, glad to escape without further notice. whether this preaching converts many to christianity, there can be no doubt that it diffuses a widespread sense of the folly of these mélas, and to this as one cause may be ascribed the falling-off in the concourse of pilgrims, who were formerly counted by millions and are now only by hundreds of thousands. while "religion" thus went on vigorously, business was not forgotten. in the remoter parts of the camp it was turned into a market-place. a festival which brings together hundreds of thousands of people, is an occasion not to be lost for traffic and barter. so the camp becomes a huge bazaar (a vast fair, such as one may see in america at a cattle show or a militia muster), with streets of shops, so that, after one has performed his religious duties, as he comes up from the holy waters and returns to "the world," he can gratify his pride and vanity by purchasing any quantity of cheap jewelry. there are shops for the sale of idols. we could have bought a lovely little beast for a few pence. they are as "cheap as dirt;" in fact, they are often made of dirt. as we stood in front of one of the shops, we saw a group rolling up a little ball of mud, as children make mud pies; who requested a lady of our party to step one side, as her shadow, falling on this holy object, polluted it! it is hard to believe that even the most ignorant and degraded of men can connect such objects with any idea of sacredness or religion. and yet the wretched-looking creatures seemed infatuated with their idolatries. to bathe in the ganges washes away their sins. it opens to them the gates of paradise. such value do they attach to it that even death in its sacred waters is a privilege. formerly suicides were very frequent here, till they were stopped by the government. fanaticism seems to destroy the common sympathies of life. last wednesday, while the great procession was in progress, a fire broke out in one of the booths. as they are made of the lightest material it caught like tinder, and spread so rapidly that in a few minutes a whole camp was in a blaze. but for the presence of mind and energy of a few english soldiers from the fort who were on the ground, and who seized an engine, and played upon the burning wood and thatch, the entire encampment might have been destroyed, involving an appalling loss of life. as it was, some thirty perished, almost all women. mr. kellogg came up in time to see their charred and blackened remains. yet this terrible disaster awakened no feeling of compassion for its victims. they were accounted rather favored beings to have perished in such a holy spot. thus does the blindness of superstition extinguish the ordinary feelings of humanity. weary and heart-sick at such exhibitions of human folly, we mounted our elephant to leave the ground. the noble beast, who had waited patiently for us (and was duly rewarded), now seemed as if he could stand it no longer, and taking us on his back, strode off as if disgusted with the whole performance, and disdaining the society of such debased human creatures. this méla, with other things which i have seen, has quite destroyed any illusions which i may have had in regard to hindooism. in coming to india, one chief object was to study its religion. i had read much of "the mild hindoo" and "the learned brahmin," and i asked myself, may not their religion have some elements of good? is it not better at least than no religion? but the more i study it the worse it seems. i cannot understand the secret of its power. i can see a fascination in romanism, and even in mohammedanism. the mythology of the greeks had in it many beautiful creations of the imagination. but the gods of the hindoos are but deified beasts, and their worship, instead of elevating men intellectually or morally, is an unspeakable degradation. hindooism is a mountain of lies. it is a vast and monstrous system of falsehood, kept in existence mainly for the sake of keeping up the power of the brahmins. their capacity for deceit is boundless, as is that of the lower castes for being deceived. of this i have just had a specimen. in the fort here at allahabad is a subterranean passage which is held in the highest veneration, as it is believed that here a river flows darkly underground to join the sacred waters of the jumna and the ganges, and here--prodigy of nature--is a sacred tree, which has been here (they tell us) for hundreds of years, and though buried in the heart of the earth, still it lives. it is true it does show some signs of sap and greenness. but the mystery is explained when the fact comes out that the tree is changed every year. the sergeant-major, who has been here four years, told me that he had himself given the order three times, which admitted the party into the fort at midnight to take away the old stump and put in a fresh tree! he said it was done in the month of february, so that with the first opening of spring it was ready to bloom afresh! how english officers can reconcile it with their honor to connive at such a deception--even though it be to please the brahmins--i leave them to explain. but the fact, thus attested, is sufficient to show the unfathomable lying of this ruling caste of india, and the immeasurable credulity of their disciples. a religion that is founded on imposture, and supported by falsehood, cannot bear the fruits of righteousness. in the essence of things truth is allied to moral purity. its very nature is "sweetness and light." but craft and deceit in sacred things breed a vicious habit of defending by false reasoning what an uncorrupted conscience would reject; and the holy name of religion, instead of being a sacrament of good, becomes a sacrament of evil, which is used to cover and consecrate loathsome immoralities. thus falsehood works like poison in the blood, and runs through every vein till the whole moral being is spotted with leprosy. footnote: [ ] that we may not do injustice, we add the excuse which is given, which is, that such attendance of the police is necessary to prevent a general mélée and bloodshed. it seems that these fakirs, holy as they are, belong to different sects, between which there are deadly feuds, and if left to themselves unrestrained, when brought into close contact in a procession, they might tear each other in pieces. but this would be no great loss to the world. chapter xii. agra--visit of the prince of wales--palace of the great mogul--the taj. we left allahabad at midnight, and by noon of the next day were at agra, in the heart of the old mogul empire. as we approached from the other side of the jumna, we saw before us what seemed a royal castle, of imposing dimensions, strongly fortified, with walls and moat, like one of the strongholds of the middle ages, a castle on the rhine, built for a double purpose, half palace and half fortress. as we crossed the long bridge flags were flying in honor of the prince of wales, who had arrived the week before. his entry into this old mogul capital was attended with a display of magnificence worthy of the days of aurungzebe. at the station he was met by a great number of rajahs, mounted on elephants richly caparisoned, of which there were nearly two hundred in the procession, with long suites of retainers, who escorted him to his camp outside of the city. rev. mr. wynkoop (who came on a few days before to witness the fêtes, and was staying with a friend who had a tent quite near to that of the prince), met us at the station and took us out to the royal camp. it was indeed a beautiful sight. the tents, many of which were very large, were laid off in an oblong square, with the marquee of the prince at the end, in front of which floated the royal standard of england. the rest of the camp was laid off in streets. on the outskirts of the maidan (or parade ground) were the military selected from different corps of the indian army. some of the native troops in drill and discipline were equal to the english. the punjaubees especially were magnificent fellows. tall and athletic in figure, they are splendid horsemen, so that a regiment of punjaubee (or sikh) cavalry is one of the sights of india. english artillery manned the guns with which they saluted the native princes according to their rank, as they came to pay their respects. here, on the saturday before, the prince had held a grand durbar, to which the rajahs came riding on elephants, and each with a body-guard of cavalry, mounted sometimes on horses and sometimes on camels, making altogether such a scene of barbaric splendor as could not be witnessed in any country in the world but india. the prince was absent from the camp, having gone off a day or two before to pay a visit to the maharajah of gwalior, but an hour later, while we were making a first visit to the taj, we heard the guns which announced his return. a day or two after we saw him starting for jeypore, when, although he drove off in a carriage very quietly, the camels and elephants that went rolling along the different roads, as we drove out once more to the camp, told of the brilliant pageant that was ended. this visit of the prince of wales is a great event. it has excited a prodigious interest in official and military circles. his progress through the country has been in a blaze of processions and illuminations. to himself it must have been very gratifying. as he said, "it had been the dream of his life to visit india." it was a matter of political wisdom that he should know it, not only through others but by personal observation. mr. disraeli, in proposing it in parliament, said justly that "travel was the best education for princes." it was well that the future king of england, should make himself acquainted with the great empire that he was one day to rule. but whether this royal visit will result in any real benefit to india to correspond with the enormous expense it has involved, is a question which i hear a good deal discussed among englishmen. in some ways it cannot fail to do good. it has presented to the people of india an impersonation of sovereignty, a visible representative of that mighty power, the british empire. it has conciliated the native princes, who have been greatly pleased by the frank and manly courtesy of their future sovereign. in the art of courtesy he is a master. history will give him this rank among princes, that he was not great, but gracious. this is a kingly virtue which it was well to have exhibited in the person of one of such exalted rank, the more as english officials in india are charged with showing, often in the most offensive way, the insolence of power. perhaps it was on this very account that he took such pains to show a generous and even chivalrous courtesy to natives of rank, even while he did not hesitate, so i was told by englishmen, to "snub" his own countrymen. such a bearing has certainly commanded respect, and given him a personal popularity. but it has not converted the people to loyalty any more than to christianity. they run to see the parades, the rajahs, and the elephants. but as to its exciting any deeper feeling in them, no englishman who has lived long in the country will trust to that for a moment. even though english rule be for their own safety and protection, yet their prejudices of race and religion are stronger than even considerations of interest. it is a curious illustration of the power of caste that the very rajahs who entertain the prince of wales with such lavish hospitality, who build palaces to receive him, and spread before him sumptuous banquets, still do not themselves sit down at the table; they will not even eat with their royal guest; and count his touch of food, and even his shadow falling upon it, a pollution! such a people are not to be trusted very far beyond the range of english guns. the security of english rule in india is not to be found in any fancied sentiment of loyalty, which does not exist, but in the overwhelming proof of english power. british possession is secured by the well-armed fortresses which overlook every great city, and which could lay it in ruins in twenty-four hours. the rule that was obtained by the sword, must be held by the sword. but the interest of agra is not in the present, but in the past. there are few chapters in history more interesting than that of the mohammedan invasion of india--a history dating back to the middle ages, but culminating about the time that columbus discovered the new world. those fierce warriors, who had ravaged central asia, had long made occasional incursions into india, but it was not till the beginning of the sixteenth century that they became complete masters of the country, and the throne was occupied by a descendant of the house of tamerlane. the dominion thus introduced into india was an exotic, but like other products of the north, transplanted into a tropical clime, it blossomed and flowered anew. the moguls (a corruption of mongols) had all the wealth of ormus and of ind at their feet, and they lavished it with oriental prodigality, displaying a royal state which surpassed the grandeur of european courts. the great mogul! what power there is in a name! ever since i was a child, i had read about the great mogul, until there was a magic in the very word. to be sure, i had not much idea who or what he was; but perhaps this vagueness itself added to the charm in my imagination. he was an oriental potentate, living somewhere in the heart of asia, in a pomp and glory quite unknown among barbarians of the west. he was a sort of haroun al raschid, whose magnificence recalled the scenes of the arabian nights. even more, he was like the grand lama, almost an object of worship. to keep up the illusion, he withdrew from observation into his palace, where he sat like a god, rarely seen by mortal eyes, except by his court, and dwelling in unapproachable splendor. and now here i was in the very palace of the great mogul, walking through the glittering halls where he held his gorgeous revelries, entering the private apartments of his harem, and looking out of the very windows from which they looked down upon the valley of the jumna. the palace is in the citadel of agra, for those old emperors took good care to draw fortified walls around their palaces. the river front presents a wall sixty feet high, perhaps half a mile long, of red sandstone, which heightens by contrast the effect of the white marble pavilions, so graceful and airy-like, that rise above it. the fort is of great extent, but it is the mere casket of the jewels within, the palace and the mosque, in which one may see the infinite beauty of that saracenic architecture, which is found nowhere in europe in such perfection, except in the alhambra. the mohammedan conquerors of india, like the same conquerors of spain, had gorgeous tastes in architecture. both aimed at the grandeur of effect produced by great size and massive construction, combined with a certain lightness and airiness of detail, which give it a peculiar delicacy and grace. here the imagination flowers in stone. the solid marble is made to bend in vines and wreaths that run along the walls. the spirit of oriental luxury finds expression in cool marble halls, and open courts, with plashing fountains, where the monarch could dally with the beauties of his court. in all these things the life of the great mogul did not differ from that of the moorish kings of spain. the glory of agra dates from the reign of akbar the great who made it the capital of the mogul empire. he built the fort, with its long line of castellated walls, rising above the river, and commanding the country around. within this enclosure were buildings like a city, and open spaces with canals, among which were laid out gardens, blooming with flowers. on the river side of the fort was a lofty terrace, on which stood the palace, built of the purest marble. it was divided into a number of pavilions whose white walls and gilded domes glittered in the sun. passing from one pavilion to another over tessellated pavements, we enter apartments rich in mosaics and all manner of precious stones. along the walls are little kiosks or balconies, the windows of which are half closed by screens of marble, which yet are so exquisitely carved and pierced as to seem like veils of lace, drawn before the flashing eyes that looked out from behind them. straying through these rich halls, one cannot but reproduce the scenes of three centuries ago, when akbar ruled here in the midst of his court; when the beauties of his seraglio, gathered from all the east, sported in these gardens, and looked out from these latticed windows. of equal beauty with the palace is the mosque. it is called the pearl mosque, and a pearl indeed it is, such is the simplicity of outline, and such the exquisite and almost tender grace in every arch and column. said bishop heber: "this spotless sanctuary, showing such a pure spirit of adoration, made me, a christian, feel humbled when i considered that no architect of our religion had ever been able to produce anything equal to this temple of allah." but these costly buildings have but little use now. the mosque is still here, but few are the moslems who come to pray; and the palace is tenantless. the great moguls are departed. their last descendant was the late king of delhi, who was compromised in the great mutiny, and passed the rest of his life as a state prisoner. not a trace remains here nor at delhi of the old imperial grandeur. yet once in a long while these old palaces serve a purpose to entertain some royal guest. last week they were fitted up for a fête given to the prince of wales, when the stately apartments were turned into reception rooms and banqueting halls. it was a very brilliant spectacle, as the british officers in their uniforms mingled with the native princes glittering with diamonds. but it would seem as if the old moguls must turn in their coffins to hear this sound of revelry in their vacant palaces, and to see the places where the mohammedan ruled so long now filled by unbelievers. perhaps one gets a yet stronger impression of the magnificence of the great mogul in a visit to the summer palace of akbar at futtehpore-sikri, so called from two villages embraced in the royal retreat. this was the versailles of the old moguls. it is over twenty miles from agra, but starting early we were able to drive there and return the same day. the site is a rocky hill, which might have been chosen for a fortress. the outer wall enclosing it, with the two villages at its foot, is nine miles in extent. the buildings were on a scale to suit the wants of an imperial court--the plateau of the hill being laid off in a vast quadrangle, surrounded by palaces, and zenanas for the women of the imperial household, and mosques and tombs. perhaps the most exquisite building of all is a tomb in white marble--the resting place of selim, a moslem saint, a very holy shrine to the true believers; although the mosque is far more imposing, since before it stands the loftiest gateway in the world. around the hill are distributed barracks for troops, and stables for horses and camels and elephants. the open court in the centre of all these buildings is an esplanade large enough to draw up an army. here they show the spot where akbar used to mount his elephant, and here his troops filed before him, or subject princes came with long processions to pay him homage. as this palace was built for a summer retreat, everything is designed for coolness; pavilions, covered overhead, screen from the sun, while open at the sides, they catch whatever summer air may be stirring. in studying the architecture of the moors or the moguls, one cannot but perceive, that in its first inception it has been modelled after forms familiar to their nomadic ancestors. the tribes of central asia first dwelt in tents, and when they came to have more fixed habitations built of wood or stone, they reproduced the same form, so that the canvas tent became the marble pavilion--just as the builders of the gothic cathedrals caught the lines of their mighty arches from the interlacing branches of trees which made the lofty aisles of the forest. so the tribes of the desert, accustomed to live in tents, when endowed with empire, falling heir to the riches of the indies, still preserved the style of their former life, and when they could no longer dwell in tents, dwelt in tabernacles. these palaces are almost all constructed on this type. there is one building of singular structure, five stories high, which is a series of terraces, all open at the side. if we believe the tales of travellers and historians, nothing since the days of babylon has equalled the magnificence of the great mogul. but magnificence in a sovereign generally means misery in his subjects. the wealth that is lavished on the court is wrung from the people. so it is said to have been with some of the successors of akbar. the latest historian of mussulman india[ ] says: "they were the most shameless tyrants that ever disgraced a throne. mogul administration ... was a monstrous system of oppression and extortion, which none but asiatics could have practised or endured. justice was a mockery. magistrates could always be bribed; false witnesses could always be bought.... the hindoos were always in the hands of grinding task-masters, foreigners who knew not how to pity or to spare." but akbar was not merely a magnificent oriental potentate--he was truly a great king. a mohammedan himself, he was free from moslem fanaticism and bigotry. those conquerors of india had a difficult task (which has vexed their english successors after two centuries), to rule a people of a different race and a different religion. it was harder for the moslem than for the christian, because his creed was more intolerant; it made it his duty to destroy those whom he could not convert. the first law of the koran was the extermination of idolatry, but the hindoos were the grossest of idolaters. how then could a mohammedan ruler establish his throne without exterminating the inhabitants? but the moslems--like many other conquerors--learned to bear the ills which they could not remove. necessity taught them the wisdom of toleration. in this humane policy they were led by the example of akbar, who, though a mussulman, was not a bigot, and thought it a pity that subtle questions of belief should divide inhabitants of the same country. he admitted hindoos to a share in his government, and endeavored by complete tolerance to extinguish religious hatreds. he had even the ambition to be a religious reformer, and tried to blend the old faith with the new, and to make an eclectic religion by putting together the systems of zoroaster, of the brahmins, and of christianity, while retaining some of the mohammedan forms. but he could not convert even his own hindoo wives, of whom he had one or two, and built a house for each, in hindoo architecture, with altars for idol worship. what impression then could he make outside of the circle of his court? but greatness commands our homage, even though it sometimes undertakes tasks beyond human power. akbar, though he could not inspire others with his own spirit of justice and toleration, deserves a place in history as the greatest sovereign that ever sat in the seat of the great mogul. and therefore, when in the fort at agra i stood beside the large slab of black marble, on which he was wont to sit to administer justice to his people, it was with the same feeling that one would seek out the oak of vincennes, under which st. louis sat for the same purpose; and at secundra, a few miles from agra, we visited his tomb, as on another continent we had visited the tomb of frederick the great, and of napoleon. but the jewel of india--the koh-i-noor of its beauty--is the taj, the tomb built by the emperor shah jehan, the grandson of akbar, for his wife, whom he loved with an idolatrous affection, and on her deathbed promised to rear to her memory such a mausoleum as had never been erected before. to carry out his purpose he gathered architects from all countries, who rivalled each other in the extravagance and costliness of their designs. the result was a structure which cost fabulous sums of money (the whole empire being placed under contribution for it, as were the jews for the temple of solomon), and employed twenty thousand workmen for seventeen years. the building thus erected is one of the most famous in the world--like the alhambra or st. peter's--and of which enthusiastic travellers are apt to say that it is worth going around the world to see. this would almost discourage the attempt to describe it, but i will try and give some faint idea of its marvellous beauty. but how can i convey to others what is but a picture in my memory? descriptions of architecture are apt to be vague unless aided by pictorial illustrations. mere figures and measurements are dry and cold. the most i shall aim at will be to give a general (but i hope not indistinct) _impression_ of it. for this let us approach it gradually. it stands on the banks of the jumna, a mile below the fort at agra. as you approach it, it is not exposed abruptly to view, but is surrounded by a garden. you enter under a lofty gateway, and before you is an avenue of cypresses a third of a mile long, whose dark foliage is a setting for a form of dazzling whiteness at the end. that is the taj. it stands, not on the level of your eye, but on a double terrace; the first, of red sandstone, twenty feet high, and a thousand feet broad; at the extremities of which stand two mosques, of the same dark stone, facing each other. midway between rises the second terrace, of marble, fifteen feet high, and three hundred feet square, on the corners of which stand four marble minarets. in the centre of all, thus "reared in air," stands the taj. it is built of marble--no other material than this of pure and stainless white were fit for a purpose so sacred. it is a hundred and fifty feet square (or rather it is eight-sided, since the corners are truncated), and surmounted by a dome, which rises nearly two hundred feet above the pavement below. these figures rather belittle the taj, or at least disappoint those who looked for great size. there are many larger buildings in the world. but that which distinguishes it from all others, and gives it a rare and ideal beauty, is the union of majesty and grace. this is the peculiar effect of saracenic architecture. the slender columns, the springing arches, the swelling domes, the tall minarets, all combine to give an impression of airy lightness, which is not destroyed even when the foundations are laid with massive solidity. but it is in the finish of their structures that they excelled all the world. bishop heber said truly: "they built like titans and finished like jewellers." this union of two opposite features makes the beauty of the taj. while its walls are thick and strong, they are pierced by high arched windows which relieve their heaviness. vines and arabesques running over the stone work give it the lightness of foliage, of trees blossoming with flowers. in the interior there is an extreme and almost feminine grace, as if here the strength of man would pay homage to the delicacy of woman. enclosing the sacred spot is a screen of marble, carved into a kind of fretwork, and so pure and white that light shines through it as through alabaster, falling softly on that which is within. the emperor, bereaved of his wife, lavished riches on her very dust, casting precious stones upon her tomb, as if he were placing a string of pearls around her neck. it is overrun with vines and flowers, cut in stone, and set with onyx and jasper and lapis lazuli, carnelians and turquoises, and chalcedonies and sapphires. but the body rests in the crypt below. we descend a few steps and stand by the very sarcophagus in which all that loveliness is enshrined. another sarcophagus contains the body of her husband. their tombs were covered with fresh flowers, a perpetual tribute to that love which was so strong even on the throne; to those who were thus united in life, and in death are not divided. here sentiment comes in to affect our sense of the beauty of the place. if it were not for the touching history connected with it, i could not agree with those who pronounce the taj the most beautiful building in the world. merely as a building, it does not "overcome" me so much as another marble structure--the cathedral of milan. i could not say with bishop heber that the mosques of islam are more beautiful, or more in harmony with the spirit of devotion, than christian churches or cathedrals. but the taj is not a mosque, it is a tomb--a monument to the dead. and that gives it a tender interest, which spiritualizes the cold marble, and makes it more than a building--a poem and a dream. this impression grew upon us the more we saw it. on our last night in agra we drove there to take our last view by moonlight. all slept peacefully on the banks of the jumna. slowly we walked through the long avenue of dark cypresses, that stood like ranks of mourners waiting for the dead to pass, their tops waving gently in the night wind, as if breathing a soft requiem over the departed. mounting the terrace we stood again before the taj, rising into the calm blue heavens. a few nights before the prince of wales had been here, and the interior had been illuminated. as we had not seen it then, we had engaged attendants with blue lights, who gave us an illumination of our own. it was a weird scene as these swarthy natives, with naked arms, held aloft their torches, whose blue flames, flaring and flickering, cast a spectral light upward into the dim vault above. to add to the ghostly effect, we heard whispers above us, as if there were unseen witnesses. it was the echo of our own voices, but one starts to hear himself in such a place. the dome is a whispering gallery; and as we stood beside the tomb, and spoke in a low voice (not to disturb the sleep of the dead), our words seemed to be repeated. any sound at the tomb--a sigh of pity, or a plaintive melody--rising upward, comes back again,--faintly indeed, yet distinctly and sweetly--as if the very air trembled in sympathy, repeating the accents of love and of despair, or as if unseen spirits were floating above, and singing the departing soul to its rest. then we went down once more into the crypt below, where sleeps the form of the beautiful empress, and of shah jehan, who built this monument for her, at her side. the place was dark, and the lights in the hands of the attendants cast but a feeble glimmer, but this deep shadow and silence suited the tenor of our thoughts, and we lingered, reluctant to depart from the resting-place of one so much beloved. as we came out the moon was riding high overhead, flooding the marble pile with beauty. round and round we walked, looking up at arch and dome and minaret. at such an hour the taj was so pale and ghostlike, that it did not seem like a building reared by human hands, but to have grown where it stood--like a night-blooming cereus, rising slowly in the moonlight--lifting its domes and pinnacles (like branches growing heavenward) towards that world which is the home of the love which it was to preserve in perpetual memory. with such thoughts we kept our eyes fixed on that glittering vision, as if we feared that even as we gazed it might vanish out of our sight. below us the jumna, flowing silently, seemed like an image of human life as it glided by. and so at last we turned to depart, and bade farewell to the taj, feeling that we should never look on it again; but hoping that it might stand for ages to tell its history of faithful love to future generations. flow on, sweet jumna, by the marble walls, reflecting the moonbeams in thy placid breast; and in thy gentle murmurs whispering evermore of love and death, and love that cannot die! footnote: [ ] mr. talboys wheeler. chapter xiii. delhi--a mohammedan festival--scenes in the mutiny. delhi is the rome of the old mogul empire. agra was the capital in the time of akbar, but delhi is an older city. it had a history before the moguls. it is said to have been destroyed and rebuilt seven times, and thus is overspread with the ashes of many civilizations. its very ruins attest its ancient greatness. the plain around delhi is like the campagna around rome--covered with the remains of palaces and mosques, towers and tombs, which give credit to the historical statement that the city was once thirty miles in circuit, and had two millions of inhabitants. this greatness tempted the spoiler. in it was plundered by tamerlane; in it was taken by his descendant, baber, the founder of the mogul dynasty. akbar made agra, miles to the south, his capital; but shah jehan, the monarch of magnificent tastes, who built the taj, attracted by the mighty memories of this rome of asia, returned to delhi, and here laid the foundations of a city that was to exceed all the capitals that had gone before it, if not in size, at least in splendor. that distinction it still retains among the cities of india. though not a tenth of old delhi in size, it has to-day over , inhabitants. it is surrounded by walls seven miles in extent. we enter under lofty arched gateways, and find ourselves in the midst of a picturesque population, representing all the races of southern and central asia. the city is much gayer than agra. its streets are full of people of all colors and costumes. its shops are rich in indian jewelry, which is manufactured here, and in cashmere shawls and other oriental fabrics; and in walking through the chandney chook, the broadway of delhi, one might imagine himself in the bazaars of cairo or constantinople. the fort is very like that of agra, being built of the same red sandstone, but much larger, and encloses a palace which bishop heber thought superior to the kremlin. in the hall of audience, which still remains, stood the famous peacock throne, which is estimated to have been worth thirty millions of dollars. here the great mogul lived in a magnificence till then unknown even in oriental courts. at the time that louis xiv. was on the throne of france, a french traveller, tavernier, made his way to the east, and though he had seen all the glory of versailles, he was dazzled by this greater eastern splendor. but what a comment on the vanity of all earthly power, that the monarch who built this palace was not permitted to live in it! he was dethroned by his son, the wily aurungzebe, who imprisoned his father and murdered his brother, to get possession of the throne. shah jehan was taken back to agra, and confined in the fort, where he passed the last years of his life. but as it is only a mile from the taj, the dethroned king, as he sat in his high tower, could see from his windows the costly mausoleum he had reared. death came at last to his relief, as it comes alike to kings and captives, and he was laid in his marble tomb, beside the wife he had so much loved. this story of crime is relieved by one of the most touching instances of fidelity recorded in history. when all others deserted the fallen monarch, there was one true heart that was faithful still. he had a daughter, the favorite sister of that murdered brother, who shared her father's captivity. she was famous throughout the east for her wit and beauty, but sorrow brought out the nobler traits of her character. she clung to her father, and thus comforted the living while she mourned for the dead. she became very religious, and spent her life in deeds of charity. she is not buried in the taj mahal, but at delhi in a humble grave. lowly in spirit and broken in heart, she shrank from display even in her tomb. she desired to be buried in the common earth, with only the green turf above her. there she sleeps beneath a lowly mound (though surrounded by costly marble shrines), and near the head is a plain tablet, with an inscription in persian, which reads: "let no rich canopy cover my grave. this grass is the best covering for the tomb of one who was poor in spirit--the humble, the transitory jehanara, the disciple of the holy men of cheest, the daughter of the emperor shah jehan." was there ever a more touching inscription? as i stood by this grave, on which the green grass was growing, and read these simple words, i was more moved than even when standing by the marble sarcophagus under the dome of the taj. that covered an emperor's wife, and was the monument of a royal husband's affection; this recalled a daughter's fidelity--broken in heart, yet loving and faithful, and devoted to the last. but humiliations were to come to the house of aurungzebe. as louis xiv. on his deathbed had to mourn his haughty policy, which had ended in disaster and defeat, so aurungzebe was hardly in his grave when troubles gathered round his house.[ ] about thirty years after, a conqueror from persia, nadir shah, came down from the passes of the himalayas, ravaged the north of india to the gates of delhi, plundered the city and the palace, and carried off the peacock throne--putting out the eyes of the great mogul, telling him in bitter mockery that he had no more need of his throne, since he had no longer eyes to see it! other sorrows followed hard after. the kingdom was overrun by the terrible mahrattas, whose horses' hoofs had so often trampled the plains of india. then came the english, who took delhi at the beginning of this century. but still the phantom of the old empire lived, and there was an indian rajah, who bore the sounding name of the great mogul. the phantom continued till the mutiny twenty years ago, when this "king of delhi" was set up by the sepoys as their rallying cry. the overthrow of the rebellion was the end of his house. his sons were put to death, and he was sent into exile, and the great mogul ceased to reign. but though he no longer reigns in delhi, yet it is one of the chief centres of islam in the world. queen victoria has more mohammedan subjects than the sultan. there are forty millions of moslems in india. delhi is their mecca. it has some forty mosques, whose tall minarets and gilded domes produce a very brilliant effect. one especially, the jumma musjid, is the most magnificent in india. it stands on a high terrace, mounted by long flights of steps, which give it an imposing effect. huge bronze doors open into a large court, with a fountain in the centre, and surrounded by arched passages, like cloisters. here are preserved with religious care some very ancient copies of the koran, and the footprint of mohammed in black marble (!), and (holiest relic of all) a coarse red hair, which is said to have been plucked from the beard of the prophet! nor is mohammedanism in india a dead faith, whose fire has died out, its forms only being still preserved. the recurrence of one of their festivals arouses their religious zeal to the highest pitch of fanaticism. we were in delhi at the time of the mohurrim, the moslem "feast of martyrs," designed to commemorate the bloody deaths of the grandsons of mohammed. macaulay, in his review of the life of lord clive, gives an instance in which this day was chosen for a military assault because of the frenzy with which it kindled all true mussulmans. he says: "it was the great mohammedan festival, which is sacred to the memory of hosein, the son of ali. the history of islam contains nothing more touching than the event which gave rise to that solemnity. the mournful legend relates how the chief of the fatimites, when all his brave followers had perished round him, drank his latest draught of water and uttered his latest prayer; how the assassins carried his head in triumph; how the tyrant smote the lifeless lips with his staff; and how a few old men recollected with tears that they had seen those lips pressed to the lips of the prophet of god. after the lapse of twelve centuries, the recurrence of this solemn season excites the fiercest and saddest emotions in the bosoms of the devout moslems of india. they work themselves up to such agonies of rage and lamentation, that some, it is said, have given up the ghost from the mere effect of mental excitement." such was the celebration that we witnessed in delhi. the martyrdom of these moslem saints is commemorated by little shrines in their houses, made of paper and tinsel, and on the great day of the feast they go in procession out of the city to a cemetery five miles distant, and there bury them in hundreds of newly-opened graves. as we drove out of delhi, we found the procession on its march; men, women, and children by tens of thousands on foot, and others in bullock-carts, or mounted on horses, camels, and elephants. immense crowds gathered by the roadside, mounting the steps of old palaces, or climbing to the tops of houses, to see this mighty procession pass, as it went rolling forward in a wild frenzy to its golgotha--its place of a skull. there they lay down these images of their saints as they would bury their dead. we went into the cemetery, and saw the open graves, and the little shrines garlanded with flowers, that were laid in the earth, not (so far as we saw) with weeping and wailing, but rather with a feeling of triumph and victory. leaving this scene of wild fanaticism, we rode on a few miles farther to the kootub minar, the loftiest isolated tower in the world, that has stood there six hundred years, looking down on all the strange scenes that have passed within its horizon, since watchers from its summit saw the armies of tamerlane march by. we rode back through a succession of ruins, stopping at several royal tombs, but most interested in one where the sons of the aged king of delhi took refuge after the fall of the city, and from which they were taken out by captain hodson, and shot in the presence of their deluded followers, and their bodies exposed in the chandney chook, to the terror of the wretched people, who had seen the cruelty of these young princes, and were awed to see the retribution that overtook those who had stained their hands with blood. this tragedy took place less than twenty years ago, and recalls that recent history from which fresh interest gathers round the walls of delhi. this city played a great part in the mutiny of . indeed it broke out at meerut, thirty miles from here, where the sepoys rose upon their officers, and massacred the europeans of both sexes, and then rushed along the road to delhi, to rouse the natives here to mutiny. had those in command anticipated such a blow, they might have rallied their little force, and shut themselves up in the fort (as was done at agra), with provisions and ammunition for a siege, and there kept the tigers at bay. but they could not believe that the native troops, that had been obedient till now, could "turn and rend them." they were undeceived when they saw these sepoys drunk with blood, rushing into the town, calling on their fellow-soldiers to rise and kill. many perished on the spot. but they fell not ingloriously. a brave officer shut himself up in the arsenal, and when the mutineers had gathered around, ready to burst in, applied the torch, and blew himself and a thousand natives into the air. the little handful of troops fled from the town, and were scarcely able to rally enough to be safe even at a distance. but then rose the unconquerable english spirit. with this small nucleus of an army, and such reinforcements as could be brought from the punjaub, they held out through the long, dreadful summer, till in september they had mustered all together seven thousand men (half of whom were natives), with which they proposed to assault a walled city held by sixty thousand native troops! planting their guns on the ridge, a mile or two distant, they threw shells into the town, and as their fire took effect, they advanced their lines nearer and nearer. but they did not advance unopposed. many of the sepoys were practised artillerists (since the mutiny all the artillery regiments in india are english), and answered back with fatal aim. still, though the english ranks were thinned, they kept pushing on; they came nearer and nearer, and the roar of their guns was louder and louder. approaching the walls at one point, they wished to blow up the cashmere gate. it was a desperate undertaking. but when was english courage known to fail? a dozen men were detailed for the attempt. four natives carried bags of powder on their shoulders, but as they drew within rifle range, english soldiers stepped up to take their places, for they would not expose their native allies to a danger which they were ready to encounter themselves. the very daring of the movement for an instant bewildered the enemy. the sepoys within saw these men coming up to the gate, but thinking perhaps that they were deserters, did not fire upon them, and it was not till they darted back again that they saw the design. then came the moment of danger, when the mine was to be fired. a sergeant advanced quickly, but fell mortally wounded; a second sprang to the post, but was shot dead; the third succeeded, but fell wounded; the fourth rushed forward, and seeing the train lighted sprang into the moat, the bullets whizzed over him, and the next instant a tremendous explosion threw the heavy wall into the air. such are the tales of courage still told by the camp-fires of the regiments here. more than once did we walk out to the cashmere gate, and from that point followed the track of the english troops as they stormed the city, pausing at the spot where the brave general nicholson fell. with mingled pride and sadness, we visited his grave, and those of others who fell in the siege. the english church is surrounded with them, and many a tablet on its walls tells of the heroic dead. such memories are a legacy to the living. we attended service there, and as we saw the soldiers filing into the church, and heard the swords of their officers ringing on the pavement, we felt that the future of india was safe when committed to such brave defenders! this church was standing during the siege, and above it rose a gilded ball, supporting a cross, which was an object of hatred to both mohammedan and hindoo, who wished to see this symbol of our religion brought to the ground. again and again they aimed their guns at it, and the globe was riddled with balls, but still _the cross stood_, until the city was completely subdued, when it was reverently taken down by english hands, and carried to the historical museum, to be kept as a sacred relic. may we not take this as a sign of the way in which the christian faith will stand against all the false religions of india? but i turn from battles and sieges to a lighter picture. one may find great amusement in the street scenes of delhi, which will relieve these "dun clouds of war." in the mohammedan procession we had seen hundreds of the drollest little carts, drawn by oxen, on which the natives were stuck like pins, the sight of which, with the loads of happy life they bore, excited our envy. before leaving delhi, we thought it would be very "nice" to take a turn around the town in one of these extraordinary vehicles. we had tried almost every kind of locomotion; we had ridden on horses and donkeys, on camels and elephants, and had been borne in palanquins; but one more glory awaited us--to ride in a "bali,"--and so we commanded one to attend us for our royal pleasure. but when it drew up in the yard of the hotel, we looked at it in amazement. there stood the oxen, as ready to draw us as a load of hay; but what a "chariot" was this behind! it was a kind of baby-house on cart-wheels--a cushion and a canopy--one seat, with a sort of umbrella over it, under which a native "lady" sits in state, with her feet curled up between her. how we were to get into it was the question. there were three of us, for the surgeon of the peshawur had joined us. c. of course had the place of honor, while the doctor and i sat on the edge of the seat, with our lower limbs extended at right angles. the "bali" is rigged somewhat like an irish jaunting-car, in which one sits sidewise, hanging over the wheels; only in a jaunting-car there is a board for the feet to rest upon, whereas here the feet are literally "nowhere." in the east there is no provision for the lower part of a man. legs are very much in the way. a turk or hindoo curls them up under him, and has done with them. but if an impracticable european will dangle them about where they ought not to be, he must take the consequences. i find that the only way is to look out for the main chance--to see that the body is safe, and let the legs take care of themselves. then if an accident happens, i am not responsible; i have done my duty. so we now "faced the situation," and while the central personage reposed like a sultana on a soft divan, her attendants faced in either direction, with their extremities flying all abroad. we felt as if sitting on the edge of a rickety chair, that might break any moment and pitch us into the street. but we held fast to the slender bamboo reeds that supported the canopy, and, thrusting our feet into the air, bade the chariot proceed. the driver sits astride the tongue of the cart, and sets the thing going by giving the animals a kick in the rear, or seizing the tails and giving them a twist, which sets the beasts into an awkward, lumbering gallop. he was proud of his team, and wished to show us their mettle, and now gave the tails a herculean twist, which sent them tearing like mad bulls along the street. everybody turned to look at us, while we laughed at the absurdity of our appearance, and wished that we could have our photograph taken to send home. thus we rode to the great mosque of the city, and through the chandney chook, the street of the bazaars, and back to our hotel, having had glory enough for one day. footnote: [ ] there are many parallels between louis xiv. and aurungzebe. they were contemporaries--and both had long reigns, the former a little over, and the latter a little less than, half a century. they were the most splendid sovereigns of their time--one in europe, and the other in asia, and with both the extravagance and prodigality of the monarchs prepared the way for revolution after their deaths. chapter xiv. from delhi to lahore. times have changed since twenty years ago, when delhi was the head and front of the rebellion. it is now as tranquil and loyal as any city in india. as we rode out to the ridge, where the english planted their guns during the siege, we found it surmounted by a lofty memorial tower, reared to mark the spot where the courage of a few thousand men saved india. so completely is the english power re-established, that delhi was lately chosen over all indian cities as the one where should be gathered the most imposing display of troops to do honor to their future sovereign, the prince of wales. some forty regiments, native and english, were mustered here to form a grand camp of exercise. never before had india witnessed such a military display. here were native regiments in the picturesque costumes of the east--the superb sikh cavalry; a corps of guides mounted on camels; and heavy artillery drawn by elephants, which, as they came before the prince, threw up their trunks and trumpeted a salute to the majesty of england. two weeks passed in military manoeuvres, and the nights in a constant round of festivities. the fort was brilliantly illuminated, and the palace was thronged with "fair women and brave men," but they were those of another race, and speaking another language, from any known to the great mogul. manly english forms took the place of the dusky hindoos, and bright english eyes shone where once the beauties of the seraglio "looked out from the lattice." as we walked through these marble halls that had just witnessed these splendid festivities, i could but think, what would the old fanatical mohammedan aurungzebe have said, if he could have seen, less than two hundred years after his day, a christian prince from that distant island of which he had perhaps scarcely heard, received in his palace, the heir of a power ten thousand miles away, that from its seat on the banks of the thames stretches out its hand across the seas to grasp and hold the vast empire of the house of tamerlane? the change has been from darkness to light. if england has not done as much for delhi as the great mogul to give it architectural beauty, it has done far more for the people. it has given them good government for their protection, just laws rigidly enforced against the rich as well as the poor, a police which preserves perfect order; and it even cares for the material comfort of its subjects, giving them good roads, clean and well-lighted streets, and public gardens; thus providing for ornament and pleasure as well as for utility. the camp of exercise was breaking up as we left delhi, and the troops were marching home. we saw them filing out of the gates of the city, and drew up by the roadside to see the gallant warriors pass. among them was the corps of sikh guides, or couriers, mounted on "swift dromedaries." as they were scattered along the road, our guide asked some of them to show us how they could go. in an instant they dashed their feet against the sides of their "coursers," and set them off at full speed. i cannot say that they were very beautiful objects. the camel with his long strides, and with the legs of his rider outspread like the wings of a bird, looked like an enormous ostrich flying at once with legs and wings in swift chase over the desert. but certainly it was a picturesque sight. the infantry marched in column. the spectacle was very gay, as the morning sun shone on the waving banners and gleaming bayonets, and the sound of their bugles died away in the distance. regiments had been leaving for days, and were scattered at intervals far to the north. as we travelled at night, we saw their camp-fires for a hundred miles. indeed the whole country seemed to be a camp. once or twice we came upon a regiment at sunset, just as they had pitched their tents. they had parked their guns, and picketed their horses, and the men were cooking their evening meal. it was a busy scene for an hour or two, till suddenly all became quiet, and the silence of night was broken only by the sentinel's tramp and the jackal's cry. at gazeeabad we met sir bartle frere, the chief of the suite of the prince of wales, and canon duckworth, his chaplain, who were going north on the same train, and found them extremely courteous. the former, i think, must be of french descent from his name (although his family has been settled in england for generations), and from his manners, which seemed to me more french than english, or rather to have the good qualities of both. when french courtesy is united with english sincerity, it makes the finest gentleman in the world. he is an "old indian," having been many years in the indian service, and at one time governor of bombay. i could but share the wish (which i heard often expressed) that in the change which was just taking place, he were to be the new governor-general of india. canon duckworth seemed to me also a very "manly man." though coming to india in the train of royalty, he is much less interested in the fêtes which are setting the country ablaze, than in studying missions, visiting native churches and schools and orphanages. our american missionaries like his bearing, and wish that he might be appointed the new bishop of bombay. one fact should be mentioned to his credit--that he is one of the strongest temperance men in england, carrying his principles and his practice to the point of rigid total abstinence, which, for one travelling in such company, and sitting at such entertainments, shows a firmness in resisting temptation, greatly to his honor. it is a good sign when such men are chosen to accompany the future king of england on his visit to this great dependency, over which he is one day to rule. that night we had our first sight of the himalayas. just at evening we saw on the horizon a fire spreading on the side of a mountain. it was kindled by the natives, as fires are sometimes lighted in our forests or on our prairies. there were the himalayas! we now entered the most northwestern province of india, the punjaub, which signifies in persian "the land of the five streams," which coming together like the fingers of a hand, make the indus. about midnight we crossed the sutlej, which was the limit of the conquests of alexander the great. morning brought us to umritzur, the holy city of the sikhs--a sect of reformed hindoos, who began their "reforms" by rejecting idolatry, but have found the fascination of the old worship too strong for them, and have gradually fallen back into their old superstitions. their most holy place is a temple standing in the centre of a large tank of water, which they call the lake of immortality, and with its pure white marble, and its roof made of plates of copper, richly gilded, merits the title of the golden temple. this is a very holy place, and they would not let us even cross the causeway to it without taking off our shoes; and when we put on slippers, and shuffled about, still they followed, watching us with sharp eyes, lest by any unguarded step we should profane their sanctuary. they are as fanatical as mussulmans, and glared at us with such fierce looks that the ladies of our party were almost frightened. in the centre of the temple sat two priests, on raised mats, to whom the rest were making offerings, while half a dozen musicians kept up a hideous noise, to which the people responded in a way that reminded us of the howling dervishes of constantinople. a pleasant change from this disgusting scene was a visit to the bazaars, and to the places where cashmere shawls are manufactured. of the latter i must say that (as a visit to a dirty kitchen does not quicken one's appetite for the steaming dinner that comes from it), if our fine ladies could see the dens in which these shawls are woven, they might not wear them with quite so much pride. they are close, narrow rooms, in which twenty or thirty men are crowded together, working almost without light or air. the only poetical thing about it is that the patterns are written out _in rhyme_, which they read or sing as they weave, and thus keep the patterns so regular. but the rooms themselves seem like breeding places for the cholera and the plague. but out of this filth comes beauty, as a flower shoots up from the damp, black soil. some of the shawls were indeed exquisite in pattern and fabric. one was offered to us for eight hundred rupees (four hundred dollars), which the dealer said had taken two years and a half in its manufacture! we left umritzur at five o'clock, and in a couple of hours rolled into the station at lahore. as the train stopped a friendly voice called our name, and we were greeted most heartily by dr. newton, the father of the mission. coolies were waiting to carry our baggage, and in a few minutes we were in an american home, sitting before a blazing fire, and receiving a welcome most grateful to strangers on the other side of the world. dr. newton is the head of a missionary family, his four sons being engaged in the same work, while his only daughter is the wife of mr. forman, another missionary. very beautiful it was to see how they all gathered round their father, so revered and beloved, happy to devote their lives to that form of christian activity to which he had led them both by instruction and example. here we spent four happy days in one of the most pleasant homes in india. lahore, like delhi, has a historical interest. it was a great city a thousand years ago. in it was taken and plundered by genghis khan; a century and a half later came tamerlane, who did not spoil it only because it was too poor to reward his rapacity. but as it recovered a little of its prosperity, baber, in , plundered it and partially burnt it. but again it rose from its ashes, and became a great city. the period of its glory was during the time of the moguls, when it covered a space eighteen miles in circumference, and this vast extent is still strewn with the ruins of its former greatness. huge mounds, like those which layard laid open at nineveh, cover the mighty wreck of former cities. but though the modern city bears no comparison to the ancient, still it has a political and commercial importance. it is the capital of the punjaub, and a place of commerce with central asia. the people are the finest race we have seen in india. they are not at all like the effeminate bengalees. they are the highlanders of india. tall and athletic, they seem born to be warriors. their last great ruler, old runjeet sing, was himself a soldier, and knew how to lead them to victory. uniting policy with valor, he kept peace with the english, against whom his successors dashed themselves and were destroyed. all readers of indian history will remember the sikh war, and how desperate was the struggle before the punjaub was subdued. but english prowess conquered at last, and the very province that had fought so bravely became the most loyal part of the indian empire. it was fortunate that at the breaking out of the mutiny the governor of the punjaub was sir john lawrence, who had a great ascendancy over the natives, and by his courage and prompt measures he succeeded not only in keeping them quiet, but in mustering here a considerable force to restore english authority in the rest of india. the punjaubees took part in the siege of delhi. from that day they have been the most trusted of natives for their courage and their fidelity. they are chosen for police duty in the cities of india, and three months later we were much pleased to recognize our old friends keeping guard and preserving order in the streets of hong kong. old runjeet sing is dead--and well dead, as i can testify, having seen his tomb, where his four wives and seven concubines, that were burnt on his funeral pile, are buried with him. his son too sleeps in a tomb near by, but only seven widowed women were sacrificed for him, and for a grandson only four! thus there was a falling off in the glory of the old suttee, and then the light of these fires went out altogether. these were the last widows burnt on the funeral pile, and to-day the old lion of the punjaub is represented by his son maharajah dhuleep sing, of whose marriage we heard such a romantic story in cairo, and who now lives with his christian wife in christian england. we had now reached almost the frontier of india. two hundred and fifty miles farther we should have come to peshawur, the last military post, on the border of afghanistan, which no man crosses but at the peril of his life. we find how far north we have come by the race and the language of the people. persian begins to be mingled with hindostanee. in the streets of lahore we meet not only the stalwart punjaubees, but the hill tribes, that have come out of the fastnesses of the himalayas; the men of cabul--afghans and beloochees--who have a striking resemblance to the circassians, who crossed the mediterranean with us on their pilgrimage to mecca, the long dresses of coarse, dirty flannel, looking not unlike the sheepskin robes of the wild mountaineers of the caucasus. one cannot be so near the border line of british india without having suggested the possibility of a russian invasion, the fear of which has been for the last twenty years (since the mutiny and since the crimean war) the bugbear of certain writers who are justly jealous of the integrity of the english empire in the east. russia has been steadily pushing eastward, and establishing her outposts in central asia. these gradual advances, it is supposed, are all to the end of finally passing through afghanistan, and attacking the english power in india. the appearance of russian soldiers in the passes of the hindoo koosh, it is taken for granted, will be the signal for a general insurrection in india; the country will be in a state of revolution; and at the end of a struggle in which russians and hindoos will fight together against the english, the british power will have departed never to return. or even should the russians be held back from actual invasion, their approach in a threatening attitude would be such a menace to the indian empire, as would compel england to remain passive, while russia carried out her designs in europe by taking possession of constantinople. this is a terrible prospect, and no one can say that it is impossible that all this should yet come to pass. india has been invaded again and again from the time of alexander the great. even the mighty wall of the himalayas has not proved an effectual barrier against invasion. genghis khan and tamerlane, with their tartar hordes, crossed the mountains and swept over the plains of northern india. a king of persia captured delhi, and put out the eyes of the great mogul, and carried off the peacock throne of aurungzebe. what has been, may be; what persia has done, russia may do. but while no one can say that it is impossible, all can see that the difficulties are enormous. the distance to be traversed, the deserts and the mountains to be crossed, are so many obstacles set up by nature itself. an army from the caspian sea must march thousands of miles over great deserts, where even a small caravan can hardly subsist, and then only by carrying both food to eat and water to drink. many a caravan is buried by the sands of the desert. what then must be the difficulty of passing a whole army over such a distance and such a desert, with food for men and horses, and carrying guns and all the munitions of war! five years ago, russia attempted a campaign against khiva, and sent out three separate expeditions, one of which was forced to turn back, not by hostile armies, but by the natural obstacles in its path, while the main column, under gen. kaufman, came very near succumbing to heat and thirst before reaching its destination. but if the deserts are crossed, then the army is at the foot of the loftiest mountains on the globe, in the passes of which it may have to fight against savage enemies. it is assumed that russia will have the support of afghanistan, which will give them free access to the country, and aid them in their march on india; though how a government and people, which are fanatically mussulman, should aid russia, which in europe is the bitterest enemy of turkey, the great mohammedan power, is a point which these alarmists seem not to consider. but suppose all difficulties vanquished--the deserts crossed and the mountains scaled, and the russians descending the passes of the himalayas--what an army must they meet at its foot! not a feeble race, like that which fled before nadir shah or tamerlane. with the railways traversing all india, almost the whole anglo-indian army could be transported to the punjaub in a few days, and ready to receive the invaders. with these defences in the country itself, add another supreme fact, that england is absolute master of the sea, and that russia has no means of approach except over the deserts and the mountains, and it will be seen that the difficulties in the way of a russian invasion render it practically impossible, at least for a long time to come. what may come to pass in another century, no man can foresee; but of this i feel well assured, that there will be no russian invasion within the lifetime of this generation. we had now reached the limit of our journey to the north, though we would have gladly gone farther. dr. newton had spent the last summer in cashmere, and told us much of its beauty. we longed to cross the mountains, but it was too early in the year. the passes were still blocked up with snow. it would be months before we could make our way over into the vale of cashmere. and so, though we "lifted up our eyes unto the hills," we had to turn back from seeing the glory beyond. might we not comfort ourselves by saying with mohammed, as he looked down upon damascus, "there is but one paradise for man, and i will turn away my eyes from this, lest i lose that which is to come." and so we turned away our eyes from beholding paradise. but we had seen enough. so we thought as on saturday evening we rode out to the shalamir gardens, where an emperor had made a retreat, and laid out gardens with fountains, and every possible accompaniment of luxury and pride. all remains as he left it, but silent and deserted. emperor and court are gone, and as we walked through the gardens, our own footfall on the marble pavement was the only sound that broke the stillness of the place. but the beauty is as great as ever under the clear, full moon, which, as we rode back, recalled the lines of scott on melrose: "and home returning, sooth declare, was ever scene so sad and fair?" chapter xv. a week in the himalayas. ever since we landed in india my chief desire has been to see the himalayas. i had seen mont blanc, the highest mountain in europe, and now wished to look upon the highest mountains in asia, or the world. to reach them we had travelled nearly fifteen hundred miles. we had already had a distant view of them at night, lighted up by fires blazing along their sides; but to come into their presence one must leave the railway and cross the country some forty miles. we left lahore monday morning, and at noon were at lodiana, a place with sacred missionary associations; which we left at midnight, and in the morning reached saharanpur, where also is one of our presbyterian missions. rev. mr. calderwood met us at the station, and made us welcome to his home, and sped us on our way to the hills. saharanpur is forty-two miles distant from dehra doon, the beautiful valley which lies at the foot of the himalayas. a mail wagon runs daily, but as it suited our convenience better, we chartered a vehicle not unlike an omnibus, and which the natives, improving on the english, call an _omnibukus_. it is a long covered _gharri_, that looks more like a prison van than anything else to which i can compare it, and reminded me of the black maria that halts before the tombs in new york to convey prisoners to blackwell's island. there are only two seats running lengthwise, as they are made to lie down upon in case of necessity. much of the travelling is at night, and "old indians," who are used to the ways of the country, will spread their "resais" and sleep soundly over all the joltings of the road. but we could sleep about as well inside of a bass drum. so we gave up the idea of repose, and preferred to travel by day to see the country, for which this sort of conveyance is very well contrived. the canvas top keeps off the sun, while the latticed slides (which are regular green blinds), drawn back, give a fine view of the country as we go rolling over the road. our charioteer, excited by the promise of a liberal backsheesh if he should get us into dehra doon before nightfall, drove at full speed. every five or six miles the blast of his horn told those at the next stage that somebody was coming, and that a relay of fresh horses must be ready. as we approached the hills he put on an extra horse, and then two, so that we were driving four-in-hand. then as the hills grew steeper, he took two mules, with a horse in front as a leader, mounted by a postilion, who, with his white dress and turbaned head, made a very picturesque appearance. how gallantly he rode! he struck his heels into the spirited little pony and set him into a gallop, which the mules could but follow, and so we went tearing up hill and down dale at a furious rate; while the coachman blew his horn louder still to warn common folks to get out of the way, and the natives drew to the roadside, wondering what great man it was who thus dashed by. but horses and mules were not enough to sustain such a load of dignity, and at the last stage the driver took a pair of the beautiful white hump-backed oxen of the country, which drew us to the top of the pass. the hills which we thus cross are known as the sewalic range. the top once attained, two horses were quite enough to take us down, and we descended rapidly. and now rose before us a vision of beauty such as we had not seen in all india. the vale of dehra doon is enclosed between two walls of mountains--the sewalic range on one side, and the first range of the himalayas on the other. it is fifteen miles wide, and about sixty miles long, extending from the jumna to the ganges. thus it lies between two mountains and two rivers, and has a temperature and a moisture which keep it in perpetual green. nothing can be more graceful than the tall feathery bamboos, which here grow to a great height. here are fine specimens of the peepul tree--the sacred tree of india, massive as an english oak--and groves of mangoes. everything seems to grow here--tea, coffee, tobacco, cinnamon, cloves. the appearance of this rich valley, thus covered with groves and gardens, to us coming from the burnt plains of india, was like that of a garden of paradise. riding on through this mass of foliage, we rattled into the town, but were not obliged to "find our warmest welcome at an inn." rev. mr. herron had kindly invited us to accept his hospitality, and so we inquired for "herron-sahib," and were driven along a smooth road, embowered in bamboos, to the missionary compound, where a large building has been erected for a female seminary, chiefly by the labors of messrs. woodside and herron, the latter of whom is in charge of the institution, one of the most complete in india. here we were most cordially received, and found how welcome, in the farthest part of the world, is the atmosphere of an american home. but once in presence of the great mountains, we were impatient to climb the first range, to get a view of the snows. mr. herron offered to keep us company. we rose at four the next morning, while the stars were still shining, and set out, but could ride only five miles in a carriage, when we came to the foot of the hills, and were obliged to take to the saddle. our "syces" had led three horses alongside, which we mounted just as the starlight faded, and the gray light of day began to show over the mountain-tops, while our attendants, light of foot, kept by our side in case their services were needed. and now we begin the ascent, turning hither and thither, as the road winds along the sides of the mountain. the slope of the himalayas is not a smooth and even one, rising gently through an unbroken forest. the mountain side has been torn by the storms of thousands of years. in the spring, when the snows melt and the rains come, every torrent whose rocky bed is now bare, becomes a foaming flood, rushing down the hills, and tearing its way through the lowlands, till lost in the jumna or the ganges. thus the mountain is broken into innumerable spurs and ridges that shoot out into the valley. where the scanty herbage can gather like moss on the rocks, there is grazing for sheep and goats and cattle; and these upland pastures, like those of the alps or the tyrol, are musical with the tinkling of bells. high up on the mountains they are dark with pines; while on the inner ranges of the himalayas the mighty cedars "shake like lebanon." one can imagine how lovely must be the vale of dehra doon, with its mass of verdure, set in the midst of such rugged mountains. although we were climbing upward, we could but stop, as we came to turning points in the road, to look back into the valley. sometimes a projecting ledge of rock offered a fine point of view, on which we reined up our horses; or an old oak, bending its gnarled limbs over us, made a frame to the picture, through which we looked down into the fairest of indian vales, unless it be the vale of cashmere. from such a point the landscape seemed to combine every element of beauty--plains, and woods, and streams and mountains. across the valley rises the long serrated ridge of the sewalic range. within this space is enclosed a great variety of surface--undulating in hill and valley, with green meadows, and villages, and gardens, while here and there, along the banks of the streams, whose beds are now dry, are belts of virgin forest. the industry of the people, which turns every foot of soil to account, is shown by the way in which the spurs of the mountains are terraced to admit of cultivation. wherever there is an acre of level ground, there is a patch of green, for the wheat fields are just springing up; and even spaces of but a few rods are planted with potatoes. thus the sides of the himalayas are belted with lines of green, like the sides of the alps as one descends into italy. the view is especially beautiful at this morning hour as the sun rises, causing the dews to lift from the valley, while here and there a curl of smoke, rising through the mist, marks the place of human habitation. but we must prick up our horses, for the sun is up, and we are not yet at the top. it is a good ride of two hours (we took three) to the ridge on which are built the two "hill stations" of mussoorie and landour--which are great resorts of the english during the summer months. these "stations" do not deserve the name of towns; they are merely straggling alpine villages. indeed nowhere in the alps is there such a cluster of houses at such a height, or in such a spot. there is no "site" for a regular village, no place for a "main street." one might as well think of "laying out" a village along the spine of a sharp-backed whale, as on this narrow mountain ridge. there is hardly an acre of level ground, only the jagged ends of hills, or points of rocks, from which the torrents have swept away the earth on either side, leaving only the bare surface. yet on these points and edges--wherever there is a shelf of rock to furnish a foundation, the english have built their pretty bungalows, which thus perched in air, , feet high, look like mountain eyries, and might be the home of the eagles that we see sailing over the valley below. from such a height do they look over the very top of the sewalic range to the great plains of india. but we did not stop at this mountain to look back. dashing through the little straggling bazaar of landour, we spurred on to the highest point, "lal tiba"; from which we hoped for the great view of "the snows." we reached the spot at nine o'clock, but as yet we saw "only in part." our final vision was to come three days later. away to the north and east the horizon was filled with mountains, whose summits the foot of man had never trod, but the intervening distance was covered with clouds, out of which rose the snowy domes, like islands in a sea. my first impression of the himalayas was one of disappointment, partly because we "could not come nigh unto" them. we saw their summits, but at such a distance that they did not look so high as mont blanc, where we could come "even to his feet" in the vale of chamouni. but the himalayas were seventy miles off,[ ] filling the whole horizon. nor did they rise up in one mighty chain, like the cordilleras of mexico, standing like a wall of rock and snow against the sky; but seemed rather a sea of mountains, boundless and billowy, rising range on range, one overtopping the other, and rolling away to the heart of asia; or, to change the figure, the mountains appeared as an ice continent, like that of the polar regions, tossed up here and there into higher and still higher summits, but around which, stretching away to infinity, was the wild and interminable sea. thus the view, though different from what i expected, was very grand, and though we had not yet the full, clear vision, yet the sight was sublime and awful, perhaps even more so from the partial obscurity, as great clouds came rolling along the snowy heights, as if the heavenly host uprose at the coming of the day, and were moving rank on rank along the shining battlements. we had hoped by waiting a few hours to get an unobstructed view, but the clouds seemed to gather rather than disperse, warning us to hasten our descent. in going up the mountain, c---- had kept along with us on horseback, but the long ride to one not used to the saddle had fatigued her so that on the return she was glad to accept mr. herron's offer of a _dandi_, a chair borne by two men, which two others accompanied as relays, while we, mounted as before, followed as outriders. thus mustering our little force, we began to descend the mountain. a mile or so from the top we turned aside at the house of a gentleman who was a famous hunter, and who had a large collection of living birds, pheasants and manauls, while the veranda was covered with tiger and leopard skins. he was absent, but his wife (who has the spirit and courage of a huntress, and had often brought down a deer with her own hand) was there, and bade us welcome. she showed us her birds, both living and stuffed, the number of which made her house look like an ornithological museum. to our inquiry she said, "the woods were full of game. two deer had been shot the evening before." we asked about higher game. she said that tigers were not common up on the mountain as in the valley. she had two enormous skins, but "the brutes" her husband had shot over in nepaul. but leopards seemed to be her special pets. when i asked, "have you many leopards about here?" she laughed as she answered, "i should think so." she often saw them just across a ravine a few rods in front of her house, chasing goats or sheep. "it was great fun." of late they had become rather troublesome in killing dogs. and so they had been obliged to set traps for them. they framed a kind of cage, with two compartments, in one of which they tied a dog, whose yelpings at night attracted the leopard, who, creeping round and round, to get at his prey, at length dashed in to seize the poor creature, but found bars between them, while the trap closed upon him, and mr. leopard was a prisoner. in this way they had caught four the last summer. then this highland lady came out from her cottage, and with a rifle put an end to the leopard's career in devouring dogs. the number of skins on the veranda told of their skill and success. pursuing my inquiry into the character of her neighbors, i asked, "have you any snakes about here?" "oh no," she replied carelessly; "that is to say not many. the cobras do not come up so high on the mountain. but there is a serpent in the woods, a kind of python, but he is a large, lazy creature, that doesn't do any mischief. one day that my husband was out with his gun, he shot one that was eighteen feet long. it was as big around as a log of wood, so that when i came up i sat down and took my tiffin upon it." while listening to these tales, the clouds had been gathering, and now they were piled in dark masses all around the horizon. the lightning flashed, and we could hear the heavy though distant peals of thunder. presently the big drops began to fall. there was no time to be lost. we could see that the rain was pouring in the valley, while heavy peals came nearer and nearer, reverberating in the hollows of the mountains. it was a grand spectacle of nature, that of a storm in the himalayas. thunder in front of us, thunder to the right of us, thunder to the left of us! i never had a more exciting ride, except one like it in the rocky mountains four years before. at our urgent request, mr. herron spurred ahead, and galloped at full speed down the mountain. i came more slowly with c---- in the _dandi_. but we did not lose time, and after an hour's chase, in which we seemed to be running the gauntlet of the storm, "dodging the rain," we were not a little relieved, just as the scattered drops began to fall thicker and faster, to come into the yard of the hotel at rajpore. the brave fellows who had brought the dandi deserved a reward, although mr. herron said they were his servants. i wanted to give them a rupee each, but he would not hear of it, and when i insisted on giving at least a couple of rupees for the four, which would be twenty-five cents a piece, the poor fellows were so overcome with my generosity that they bowed almost to the ground in acknowledgment, and went off hugging each other with delight at the small fortune which had fallen to them. at rajpore the carriage was waiting for us, and under its cover from the rain, we rode back, talking of the incidents of the day; and when we got home and stretched ourselves before the blazing fire, the subject was renewed. i have a boy's fondness for stories of wild beasts, and listened with eager interest to all my host had to tell. it was hard to realize that there were such creatures in such a lovely spot. "do you really mean to say," i asked, "that there are tigers here in this valley?" "yes," he answered, "within five miles of where you are sitting now." he had seen one himself, and showed us the very spot that morning as we rode out to the hills, when he pointed to a ravine by the roadside, and said: "as i was riding along this road one day with a lady, a magnificent bengal tiger came up out of that ravine, a few rods in front of us, and walked slowly across the road. he turned to look at us, and we were greatly relieved when, after taking a cool survey, he moved off into the jungle." but leopards are still more common and familiar. they have been in this very dooryard, and on this veranda. one summer evening two years ago, said miss p., i was sitting on the gravelled walk to enjoy the cool air, when an enormous creature brushed past but a step in front between us and the house. at first we thought in the gloaming it might be a dog of very unusual size, but as it glided past, and came into the light of some cottages beyond, we perceived that it was a very different beast. at another time a leopard crossed the veranda at night, and brushed over the face of a native woman sleeping with her child in her arms. it was well the beast was not hungry, or he would have snatched the child, as they often do when playing in front of native houses, and carried it off into the jungle. but we will rest to-night in sweet security in this missionary home, without fear of wild beasts or thunder storms. the clouds broke away at sunset, leaving a rich "after-glow" upon the mountains. it was the clear shining after the rain. just then i heard the voices of the native children in the chapel, singing their hymns, and with these sweet suggestions of home and heaven, "i will lay me down in peace and sleep, for thou lord only makest me dwell in safety." * * * * * we had had a glimpse of the himalayas, but the glimpse only made us eager to get the full "beatific vision"; so, after resting a day, we determined to try again, going up in the afternoon, and spending the night, so as to have a double chance of seeing the snows--both at sunset and at sunrise. this time we had also the company of mr. woodside, beside whom i rode on horseback; while mr. herron gave his escort to c----, who was "promoted" from a _dandi_ to a _jahnpan_, which differs from the former only in that it is more spacious, and is carried by four bearers instead of two. thus mounted she was borne aloft on men's shoulders. she said the motion was not unpleasant, except that the men had a habit, when they came to some dangerous point, turning a rock, or on the edge of a precipice, of changing bearers, or swinging round the bamboo pole from one shoulder to another, which made her a little giddy, as she was tossed about at such a height, from which she could look down a gorge hundreds of feet deep. however, she takes all dangers very lightly, and was enraptured with the wildness and strangeness of the scene--to find herself, an american girl, thus being transported over the mountains of asia. so we took up our line of march for the hills, and soon found our pulses beating faster. why is it that we feel such exhilaration in climbing mountains? is it something in the air, that quickens the blood, and reacts upon the brain? or is it the sensation of rising into a higher atmosphere, of "going up into heaven?" so it seemed that afternoon, as we "left the earth" behind us, and went up steadily into the clouds. i found that the himalayas grew upon acquaintance. they looked more grand the second time than the first. the landscape was changed by the westering sun, which cast new lights and shadows across the valley, and into the wooded bosom of the hills. to these natural beauties my companion added the charm of historical associations. few places in india have more interest to the scholar. the sewalic range was almost the cradle of the brahminical religion. sewalic, or sivalic, as it might be written, means literally the hills of shiva, or the hills of the gods, where their worshippers built their shrines and worshipped long before christ was born in bethlehem. the same ridge is a mine to the naturalist. it is full of fossils, the bones of animals that belonged to some earlier geological epoch. the valley has had a part in the recent history of india. here the goorkas--one of the hill tribes, which stood out longest against the english--fought their last battle. it was on yonder wooded height which juts out like a promontory into the plain, where the ruin of an old fort marks the destruction of their power. today the goorkas, like the punjaubees, are among the most loyal defenders of english rule. at present the attraction of this valley for "old indians" is not so much in its historical or scientific associations, as the field which it gives to the hunter. this belt of country, running about a hundred miles along the foot of the himalayas, is composed of forest and jungle, and is a favorite habitat of wild beasts--tigers and leopards and wild elephants. it was in this belt, called the terai, though further to the east, in nepaul, that the prince of wales a few weeks later made his great tiger-hunting expedition. he might perhaps have found as good sport in the valley right under our eyes. "do you see that strip of woods yonder?" said mr. woodside, pointing to one four or five miles distant. "that is full of wild elephants." an indian rajah came here a year or two since for a grand hunt, and in two days captured twenty-four. this is done by the help of tame elephants who are trained for the purpose. a large tract of forest is enclosed, and then by beating the woods, the herd is driven towards a corner, and when once penned, the tame elephants go in among them, and by tender caressing engage their attention, till the coolies slip under the huge beasts and tie their feet with ropes to the trees. this done, they can be left till subdued by hunger, when they are easily tamed for the service of man. these creatures still have the range of the forests. in riding through the woods one may often hear the breaking of trees, as wild elephants crash through the dense thicket. i had supposed that all kinds of wild beasts were very much reduced in india under english rule. the hunters say they are so much so as to destroy the sport. but my companion thinks not, for two reasons: the government has made stringent laws against the destruction of forests; and since the mutiny the natives are not allowed to carry fire-arms. we might have startled a leopard anywhere on the mountain side. a young scotchman whom we met with his rifle on his shoulder, said he had shot two a fortnight ago, but that there was a very big one about, which he had seen several times, but could never get a shot at, but he hoped to bring him down before long. with such chat as this we trotted up the mountain road, till we came to where it divides, where, leaving mr. herron and c---- to go on straight to landour, we turned to the left to make a flying visit to the other hill station of mussoorie. as we rode along, mr. woodside pointed out to me the spot where, a few weeks before, his horse had backed off a precipice, and been dashed to pieces. fortunately he was not on his back (he had alighted to make a call), or the horse and his rider might have gone over together. as we wound up the road he recalled another incident, which occurred several years ago: "i had been to attend an evening reception at the young ladies' school (which we had just left), and about eleven o'clock mounted to ride home. i had a white horse, and it was a bright moonlight night, and as i rode up the hill, just as i turned a corner in the road _there_ (pointing to the spot) i saw a huge leopard crouching in the attitude of preparing to spring. i rose up in the saddle (my friend is a man of giant stature) and shouted at the top of my voice, and the beast, not knowing what strange monster he had encountered, leaped over the bank and disappeared." "the next day," he added, "i was telling the story to a gentleman, who replied, 'you were very fortunate to escape so,' and then related an incident of his own, in which a leopard sprang upon his horse, which the fright caused to give such a bound that the brute fell off, and the horse starting at full speed, they escaped. but he felt that the escape was so providential that he had thanks returned in the church the next sabbath for his deliverance from a sudden death." thus listening to my companion's adventures, we rode along the ridge of mussoorie to its highest point, which commands a grand view of the snowy range. here stands a convent, which educates hundreds of the daughters of protestant englishmen, as well as those of its own faith. thus the catholic church plants its outposts on the very crests of the mountains. at landour is another catholic institution (for boys) called st. george's college, perhaps as a delicate flattery to englishmen in taking the name of their guardian saint. it has a chime of bells, which at that height and that hour strikes the ear with singular and touching effect. it may well stir up our protestant friends, both to admire and to imitate, as it furnishes a new proof of the omnipresence of rome, when the traveller finds its convents, and hears the chime of its vesper bells, on the heights and amid the valleys of the himalayas. but the sun was sinking, and it was four miles from mussoorie to landour, where we were to make our second attempt to see the snows. turning our horses, we rode at full speed along the ridge of the mountain, and reached the top of lal tiba before sunset, but only to be again disappointed. northward and eastward the clouds hung upon the great mountains. but if one part of the horizon was hidden, on the other we looked over the top of the sewalic range, to where the red and fiery sun was sinking in a bank of cloud--not "clouds full of rain," but merely clouds of dust, rolling upward "like the smoke of a furnace" from the hot plains of india. in the foreground was the soft, green valley of dehra doon, more beautiful from the contrast with the burning plains beyond. it was a peaceful landscape, as the shadows of evening were gathering over it. from this we turned to watch the light as it crept up the sides of the mountains. the panorama was constantly changing, and every instant took on some new feature of grandeur. as daylight faded, another light flashed out behind us, for the mountains were on fire. it is a custom of the people, who are herdsmen, to burn off the low brush (as the indians burned over the prairies), that the grass may spring up fresh and green for their flocks and cattle; and it was a fearful spectacle, that of these great belts of fire running along the mountain side, and lighting up the black gorges below. giving our horses to the guides to be led down the declivity, we walked down a narrow path in the rocks that led to woodstock, a female seminary, built on a kind of terrace half a mile below--a most picturesque spot (none the less romantic because a tiger had once carried off a man from the foot of the ravine a few rods below the house), and there, around a cheerful table, and before a roaring fire, forgot the fatigues of the day, and hoped for sunshine on the morrow. it was not yet daylight when we awoke. the stars were shining when we came out on the terrace, and the waning moon still hung its crescent overhead. a faint light began to glimmer in the east. we were quickly muffled up (for it was cold) and climbing up the steep path to lal tiba, hoping yet trembling. i was soon out of breath, and had more than once to sit down on the rocks to recover myself. but in a moment i would rise and rush on again, so eager was i with hope, and yet so fearful of disappointment. one more pull and we were on the top, and behold the glory of god spread abroad upon the mountains! our perseverance was rewarded at last. there were the himalayas--the great mountains of india, of asia, of the globe. the snowy range was in full view for more than a hundred miles. the sun had not yet risen, but his golden limb now touched the east, and as the great round orb rose above the horizon, it seemed as if god himself were coming to illumine the universe which he had created. one after another the distant peaks caught the light upon their fields of snow, and sent it back as if they were the shining gates of the heavenly city. one could almost look up to them as divine intelligences, and address them in the lines of the old hymn: these glorious _minds_, how bright they shine, whence all their white array? how came they to the happy seats of everlasting day? but restraining our enthusiasm for the moment, let us look at the configuration of this snowy range, simply as a study in geography. we are in presence of the highest mountains on the globe. we are on the border of that table-land of asia ("high asia") which the arabs in their poetical language call "the roof of the world." yonder pass leads over into thibet. the trend of the mountains is from southeast to northwest, almost belting the continent. indeed, physical geographers trace it much farther, following it down on one hand through the malayan peninsula and on the other running it through the hindoo koosh (or caucasus) northwest to mt. ararat in armenia; and across into europe, through turkey and greece, to the alps and the pyrenees, forming what the arabs call "the stony girdle of the earth." but the centre of that girdle, the clasp of that mighty zone, is here. it is difficult to form an idea of the altitude of mountains, when we have no basis of comparison in those which are familiar. but nature here is on another scale than we have seen it before. in europe mont blanc is "the monarch of mountains," but yonder peak, nunda davee, which shows above the horizon at the distance of a hundred and ten miles, is , feet high--that is, nearly two miles higher than mont blanc! there are others still higher--kinchinganga and dwalaghiri--but they are not in sight, as they are farther east in nepaul. but from darjeeling, a hill station much frequented in the summer months by residents of calcutta, one may get an unobstructed view of mount everest, , feet high, the loftiest summit on the globe. and here before us are a number of peaks, twenty-two, twenty-three, and twenty-four thousand feet high--higher than chimborazo, or any peak of the andes. perhaps the himalayas are less impressive than the alps _in proportion_, because the snow line is so much higher. in switzerland we reach the line of perpetual snow at , feet, so that the jungfrau, which is less than , feet, has a full mile of snow covering her virgin breast. but here the traveller must ascend , feet, nearly two miles higher, before he comes to the line of perpetual snow. it is considered a great achievement of the most daring alpine climbers to reach the top of the jungfrau or the matterhorn, but here many of the _passes_ are higher than the summit of either. dr. bellew, who accompanied the expedition of sir douglas forsyth three years since to yarkund and kashgar, told me they crossed passes , feet high, nearly , feet higher than mont blanc. he said they did not need a guide, for that the path was marked by bones of men and beasts that had perished by the way; the bodies lying where they fell, for no beast or bird lives at that far height, neither vulture nor jackal, while the intense cold preserved the bodies from decay. but the himalayas are not all heights, but heights and depths. the mountains are divided by valleys. from where we stand the eye sweeps over the tops of nine or ten separate ranges, with valleys between, in which are scattered hundreds of villages. the enterprising traveller may descend into these deep places of the earth, and make his toilsome way over one range after another, till he reaches the snows. but he will find it a _fourteen days' march_. my companion had once spent six weeks in a missionary tour among these villages. wilson, the author of "the abode of snow,"[ ] who spent months in travelling through the inner himalayas, from thibet to cashmere, makes a comparison of these mountains with the alps. there are some advantages to be claimed for the latter. not only are they more accessible, but combine in a smaller space more variety. their sides are more generally clothed with forests, which are mirrored in those beautiful sheets of water that give such a charm both to swiss and scottish scenery. but in the himalayas there is hardly a lake to be seen until one enters the vale of cashmere. then the alps have more of the human element, in the picturesque swiss villages. the traveller looks down from snow-covered mountains into valleys with meadows and houses and the spires of churches. but in the himalayas there is not a sign of civilization, and hardly of habitation. occasionally a village or a buddhist monastery may stand out picturesquely on the top of a hill, but generally the mountains are given up to utter desolation. "but," says wilson, "when all these admissions in favor of switzerland are made, the himalayas still remain unsurpassed, and even unapproached, as regards all the wilder and grander features of mountain scenery. there is nothing in the alps which can afford even a faint idea of the savage desolation and appalling sublimity of many of the himalayan scenes. nowhere have the faces of the rocks been so scarred and riven by the nightly action of frost and the midday floods from melting snow. in almost every valley we see places where whole peaks or sides of great mountains have very recently come shattering down." this constant action of the elements sometimes carves the sides of the mountains into castellated forms, like the cañons of the yellowstone and the colorado: "gigantic mural precipices, bastions, towers, castles, citadels, and spires rise up thousands of feet in height, mocking in their immensity and grandeur the puny efforts of human art; while yet higher the domes of pure white snow and glittering spires of ice far surpass in perfection, as well as in immensity, all the moslem musjids and minars." but more impressive than the most fantastic or imposing forms are the vast spaces of untrodden snow, and the awful solitudes and silences of the upper air. no wonder that the hindoos made this inaccessible region the dwelling-place of their gods. it is their kylas, or heaven. the peak of badrinath, , feet high, is the abode of vishnu; and that of kedarnath, , , is the abode of shiva--two of the hindoo trinity. nunda davee (the goddess nunda) is the wife of shiva. around these summits gathers the whole hindoo mythology. yonder, where we see a slight hollow in the mountains, is gungootree, where the ganges takes its rise, issuing from a great glacier by a fissure, or icy cavern, worn underneath, called the cow's mouth. farther to the west is jumnootree, the source of the jumna. both these places are very sacred in the eyes of the hindoos, and as near to them as any structure can be placed, are shrines, which are visited by hundreds of thousands of pilgrims from all parts of india. thus these snowy heights are to the hindoo mount sinai and calvary in one. here is not only the summit where god gave the law, but where god dwells evermore, and out of which issue the sacred rivers, which are like the rivers of the water of life flowing out of the throne of god; or like the blood of atonement, to wash away the sins of the world. but the associations of this spot are not all of hindooism and idolatry. true, we are in a wintry region, but there is an alpine flower that grows at the foot of the snows. close to lal tiba i observed a large tree of rhododendrons, in full bloom, although it was february, their scarlet blossoms contrasting with the snow which had fallen on them the night before. but the fairest blossom on that alpine height is a christian church. lal tiba itself belongs to the presbyterian mission, and adjoining it is the house of the missionaries. on the ridge is a mission church, built chiefly by the indefatigable efforts of mr. woodside. it is a modest, yet tasteful building, standing on a point of rock, which is in full view of the snowy range, and overlooks the whole mountain landscape. it was like a banner in the sky--that white church--standing on such a height, as if it were in the clouds, looking across at the mighty range beyond, and smiling at the eternal snows! the hardest thing in going round the world, is to break away from friends. not the friends we have left in america, for those we may hope to see again, but the friends made along the way. one meets so many kind people, and enters so many hospitable homes, that to part from them is an ever-renewing sorrow and regret. we have found many such homes in india, but none in which we would linger more than in this lovely vale of dehra doon. one attraction is the girls' school, which we might almost call the missionary flower of india. the building, which would be a "seminary" at home, stands in the midst of ample grounds, where, in the intervals of study, the inmates can find healthful exercise. the pupils are mostly the daughters of native christians--converted hindoos or mohammedans. some are orphans, or have been forsaken by their parents, and have thus fallen to the care of an institution which is more to them than their natural fathers and mothers. many of these young girls had very sweet faces, and all were as modest and well behaved as the girls i have seen in any similar institution in our own country. some are adopted by friends in america, who engage to provide for their education. wishing to have a part in this good work, we looked about the school till we picked out the veriest morsel of a creature, as small as dickens's tiny tim--but whose eyes were very bright, and her mind as active as her body was frail, and c---- thereupon adopted her and paid down a hundred rupees for a year's board and teaching. she is by birth a mohammedan, but will be trained up as a christian. she is very winning in her ways; and, dear me, when the little creature crept up into my lap, and looked up into my face with her great black eyes, it was such an appeal for love and protection as i could not resist; and when she put her thin arms around my neck, i felt richer than if i had been encircled with one of those necklaces of pearl, which the rajahs were just then throwing around the neck of the prince of wales. our last day was spent in a visit to the tea plantations. the culture of tea has been introduced into india within a few years, and portions of the country are found so favorable that the tea is thought by many equal to that imported from china. mr. woodside took us out in a carriage a few miles, when we left the road and crossed the fields on the back of an elephant, which is a better "coigne of vantage" than the back of a horse, as the rider is lifted up higher into the air, and in passing under trees can stretch out his hand (as we did) and pick blossoms and birds' nests from the branches; but there is a rolling motion a little too much like "life on an ocean wave," and if it were not for the glory of the thing i confess i should rather have under me some steady old trotter, such as i have had at home, or even one of the little donkeys with which we used to amble about the streets of cairo. but there are times when one would prefer the elephant, as if he should chance to meet a tiger! the beast we were riding this morning was an old tiger hunter, that had often been out in the jungle, and as he marched off, seemed as if he would like nothing better than to smell his old enemy. in a deadly combat the tiger has the advantage in quickness of motion, and can spring upon the elephant's neck, but if the latter can get his trunk around him he is done for, for he is instantly dashed to the ground, and trampled to death under the monster's feet. we had no occasion to test his courage, though, if what we heard was true, he might have found game not far off, for a native village through which we passed was just then in terror because of a tiger who had lately come about and carried off several bullocks only a few days before, and they had sent to mr. bell, a tea planter whom we met later in the day, to come and shoot him. he told me he would come willingly, but that the natives were of a low caste, who had not the hindoos' horror of touching such food, and devoured the half eaten bullock. if, he said, they would only let the carcass alone, the tiger always comes back, and he would plant himself in some post of observation, and with a rifle which never failed would soon relieve them of their terrible enemy. after an hour of this cross-country riding, our elephant drew up before the door of a large house; a ladder was brought, and we clambered down his sides. just then we heard the sharp cracks of a gun, and the planter came in, saying that he had been picking off monkeys which were a little troublesome in his garden. this was mr. nelson, one of the largest planters in the valley, with whom we had engaged to take tiffin. he took us over his plantation, which is laid out on a grand scale, many acres being set in rows with the tea plant, which is a small shrub, about as large as a gooseberry bush, from which the leaves are carefully picked. the green tea is not a different plant from the black tea, but only differently prepared. from the plantation we were taken to the roasting-house, where the tea lay upon the floor in great heaps, like heaps of grain; and where it is subjected to a variety of processes, to prepare it for use or for exportation. it is first "wilted" in large copper pans or ovens; then "rolled" on a table of stretched matting; then slightly dried, and put back in the ovens; then rolled again; and finally subjected to a good "roasting," by which time every drop of moisture is got out of it, and it acquires the peculiar twist, or shrivelled look, so well known to dainty lovers of the cup which cheers but not inebriates. how perfect was the growing and the preparation appeared when we sat down at the generous table, where we found the flavor as delicate as that of any we had ever sipped that came from the flowery land. leaving this kind and hospitable family, we rode on to the plantation of mr. bell, who had the "engagement" to shoot the tiger. he is a brave scot, very fond of sport, and had a room full of stuffed birds, which he was going to send off to australia. occasionally he had a shot at other game. once he had brought down a leopard, and, as he said, thought the beast was "deed," and went up to him, when the brute gave a spring, and tore open his leg, which laid him up for two months. but such beasts are really less dangerous than the cobras, which crawl among the rows of plants, and as the field-hands go among them barefoot, some fall victims every year. but an englishman is protected by his boots, and mr. bell strolls about with his dog and his gun, without the slightest sense of danger. we had now accomplished our visit to the himalayas, and were to bid adieu to the mountains and the valleys. but how were we to get back to saharanpur? there was the mail-wagon and the _omnibuckus_. but these seemed very prosaic after our mountain raptures. mr. herron suggested that we should try _dooleys_--long palanquins in which we could lie down and sleep (perhaps), and thus be carried over the mountains at night. as we were eager for new experiences, of course we were ready for any novelty. but great bodies move slowly, and how great we were we began to realize when we found what a force it took to move us. mr. herron sent for the _chaudri_--a kind of public carrier whose office it is to provide for such services--and an engagement was formally entered into between the high contracting parties that for a certain sum he was to provide two dooleys and a sufficient number of bearers, to carry us over the mountains to saharanpur, a distance of forty-two miles. this was duly signed and sealed, and the money paid on the spot, with promise of liberal backsheesh at the end if the agreement was satisfactorily performed. thus authorized and empowered to enter into negotiations with inferior parties, the _chaudri_ sent forward a courier, or _sarbarah_, to go ahead over the whole route a day in advance, and to secure the relays, and thus prepare for our royal progress. this seemed very magnificent, but when our retinue filed into the yard on the evening of our departure, and drew up before the veranda, we were almost ashamed to see what a prodigious ado it took to get us two poor mortals out of the valley. our escort was as follows: each dooley had six bearers, or _kahars_--four to carry it, and two to be ready as a reserve. besides these twelve, there were two _bahangi-wallas_ to carry our one trunk on a bamboo pole, making fourteen persons in all. as there were five stages (for one set of men could only go about eight miles), it took seventy men (besides the two high officials) to carry our sacred persons these forty-two miles! of the reserve of four who walked beside us, two performed the function of torch-bearers--no unimportant matter when traversing a forest so full of wild beasts that the natives cannot be induced to cross it at night without lights kept burning. the torch was made simply by winding a piece of cloth around the end of a stick, and pouring oil upon it from a bottle carried for the purpose (just the mode of the wise virgins in the parable). our kind friends had put a mattress in each dooley, with pillows and coverlet, so that if we could not quite go to bed, we could make ourselves comfortable for a night's journey. i took off my boots, and wrapping my feet in the soft fur of the skin of the himalayan goat, which i had purchased in the mountains, stretched myself like a warrior taking his rest, with his martial cloak around him, and bade the cavalcade take up its march. they lighted their torches, and like the wise virgins, "took oil in their vessels with their lamps," and set out on our night journey. at first we wound our way through the streets of the town, through bazaars and past temples, till at last we emerged from all signs of human habitation, and were alone with the forests and the stars. when we were fairly in the woods, all the stories i had heard of wild beasts came back to me. for a week past i had been listening to thrilling incidents, many of which occurred in this very mountain pass. the sewalic range is entirely uninhabited except along the roads, and is thus given up to wild beasts, and nowhere is one more likely to meet an adventure. that very morning, at breakfast, mrs. woodside had given me her experience. she was once crossing this pass at night, and as it came near the break of day she saw men running, and heard the cry of "tiger," but thought little of it, as the natives were apt to give false alarms; but presently the horses began to rear and plunge, so that the driver loosed them and let them go, and just then she heard a tremendous roar, which seemed close to the wagon, where a couple of the brutes had come down to drink of a brook by the roadside. she was so terrified that she did not dare to look out, but shut at once the windows of the gharri. presently some soldiers came up the pass with elephants, who went in pursuit, but the monsters had retreated into the forest. that was some years ago, but such incidents may still happen. only a few weeks since mr. woodside was riding through the pass at night in the mail-wagon, and had dropped asleep, when his companion, a british officer, awoke him, telling him he had just seen a couple of tigers distinctly in the moonlight. one would suppose we were safe enough with more than a dozen attendants, but the natives are very timid, and a tiger's roar will set them flying. a lady at dehra, the daughter of a missionary, told us how she was once carried with her mother and one or two other children in dooleys, when just at break of day a huge tiger walked out of a wood, and came right towards them, when the brave coolies at once dropped them and ran, leaving the mother and her children to their fate. fortunately she had presence of mind to light a piece of matting, and throw it out to the brute, who either from that, or perhaps because he was too noble a beast to attack a woman, after eyeing them for some moments, deliberately walked away. such associations with the road we were travelling, gave an excitement to our night journey which was not the most composing to sleep. it is very well to sit by the fireside and talk about tigers, but i do not know of anybody who would care to meet one in the woods, unless well armed and on an elephant's back. but what if a wild elephant should come out upon us? in general, i believe these are quiet and peaceable beasts, but they are subject to a kind of madness which makes them untamable. a "rogue elephant"--one who has been tamed, and afterwards goes back to his savage state--is one of the most dangerous of wild beasts. when the prince of wales was hunting in the terai with sir jung bahadoor, an alarm was given that a rogue elephant was coming, and they pushed the prince up into a tree as quickly as possible, for the monster has no respect to majesty. mrs. woodside told me that they once had a servant who asked to go home to visit his friends. on his way he lay down at the foot of a tree, and fell asleep, when a rogue elephant came along, and took him up like a kitten, and crushed him in an instant, and threw him on the roadside. the possibility of such an adventure was quite enough to keep our imagination in lively exercise. our friends had told us that there was no danger with flaming torches, although we might perhaps hear a distant roar on the mountains, or an elephant breaking through the trees. we listened intently. when the men were moving on in silence, we strained our ears to catch any sound that might break the stillness of the forest. if a branch fell from a tree, it might be an elephant coming through the wood. if we could not see, we imagined forms gliding in the darkness. even the shadows cast by the starlight took the shapes that we dreaded. hush! there is a stealthy step over the fallen leaves. no, it is the wind whispering in the trees. thus was it all night long. if any wild beasts glared on us out of the covert, our flaming torches kept them at a respectful distance. we did not hear the tramp of an elephant, the growl of a tiger, or even the cry of a jackal. but though we had not the excitement of an adventure, the scene itself was wild and weird enough. we were entirely alone, with more than a dozen men, with not one of whom we could exchange a single word, traversing a mountain pass, with miles of forest and jungle separating us from any habitation. our attendants were men of powerful physique, whose swarthy limbs and strange faces looked more strange than ever by the torchlight. once in seven or eight miles they set down their burden. we halted at a camp fire by the roadside, where a fresh relay was waiting. there our fourteen men were swelled to twenty-eight. then the curtain of my couch was gently drawn aside, a black head was thrust in, and a voice whispered in the softest of tones "sahib, backsheesh!" then the new bearers took up their load, and jogged on their way. i must say they did very well. the motion was not unpleasant. the dooley rested not on two poles, but on one long bamboo, three or four inches in diameter, at each end of which two men braced themselves against each other, and moved forward with a swinging gait, a kind of dog trot, which they accompanied with a low grunt, which seemed to relieve them, and be a way of keeping time. their burdens did not fatigue them much--at least they did not groan under the load, but talked and laughed by the way. nor were luxuries forgotten. one of the men carried a hooka, which served for the whole party, being passed from mouth to mouth, with which the men, when off duty, refreshed themselves with many a puff of the fragrant weed. thus refreshed they kept up a steady gait of about three miles an hour through the night. at length the day began to break. as we approached the end of our journey the men picked up speed, and i thought they would come in on a run. glad were we to come in sight of saharanpur. at ten o'clock we entered the mission compound, and drew up before the door of "calderwood padre," who, as he saw me stretched out at full length, "like a warrior taking his rest," if not "with his martial cloak around him," yet with his scotch plaid shawl covering "his manly breast," declared that i was "an old indian!" footnotes: [ ] this is given as an average distance in an air line. the nearest peak, boonderpunch (monkey's tail), is forty-five miles as the crow flies, though by the nearest accessible route, it is a hundred and forty! nunda davee is a hundred and ten in an air line, but by the paths over the mountains, must be over two hundred. [ ] a very fascinating book, especially to alpine tourists, or those fond of climbing mountains. the title, "the abode of snow," is a translation of the word himalaya. the writer is a son of the late dr. wilson, of bombay. taking a new field, he has produced a story of travel and adventure, which will be apt to tempt others to follow him. chapter xvi. the tragedy of cawnpore. the interest of india is not wholly in the far historic past. within our own times it has been the theatre of stirring events. in coming down from upper india, we passed over the "dark and bloody ground" of the mutiny--one of the most terrible struggles of modern times--a struggle unrelieved by any of the amenities of civilized warfare. on the banks of the ganges stands a dull old city, of which bayard taylor once wrote: "cawnpore is a pleasant spot, though it contains nothing whatever to interest the traveller." that was true when he saw it, twenty-four years ago. it was then a "sleepy" place. everything had a quiet and peaceful look. the river flowed peacefully along, and the pretty bungalows of the english residents on its banks seemed like so many castles of indolence, as they stood enclosed in spacious grounds, under the shade of trees, whose leaves scarcely stirred in the sultry air. but four years after that american traveller had passed, that peaceful river ran with christian blood, and that old indian town witnessed scenes of cruelty worse than that of the black hole of calcutta, committed by a monster more inhuman than surajah dowlah. the memory of those scenes now gives a melancholy interest to the place, such as belongs to no other in india. it was midnight when we reached cawnpore (we had left saharanpur in the morning), and we were utter strangers; but as we stepped from the railway carriage, a stalwart american (rev. mr. mansell of the methodist mission) came up, and calling us by name, took us to his home, and "kindly entreated us," and the next morning rode about the city with us to show the sadly memorable places. the outbreak of the mutiny in india in , took its english rulers by surprise. they had held the country for a hundred years, and thought they could hold it forever. so secure did they feel that they had reduced their army to a minimum. in the russian war, regiment after regiment was called home to serve in the crimea, till there were left not more than twenty thousand british troops in all india--an insignificant force to hold such a vast dependency; and weakened still more by being scattered in small bodies over the country, with no means of rapid concentration. there was hardly a railroad in india. all movements of troops had to be made by long marches. thus detached and helpless, the military power was really in the hands of the sepoys, who garrisoned the towns, and whom the english had trained to be good soldiers, with no suspicion that their skill and discipline would ever be turned against themselves. this was the opportunity for smothered discontent to break out into open rebellion. there had long been among the people an uneasy and restless feeling, such as is the precursor of revolution--a ground swell, which sometimes comes before as well as after a storm. it was just a hundred years since the battle of plassey (fought june, ), which decided the fate of india, and it was whispered that when the century was complete, the english yoke should be broken, and india should be free. the crimean war had aroused a spirit of fanaticism among the mohammedans, which extended across the whole of asia, and fierce moslems believed that if the english were but driven out, there might be a reconstruction of the splendid old mogul empire. this was, therefore, a critical moment, in which the defenceless state of india offered a temptation to rebellion. some there were (like the lawrences--sir john in the punjaub, and sir henry in lucknow) whose eyes were opened to the danger, and who warned the government. but it could not believe a rebellion was possible; so that when the storm burst, it was like a peal of thunder from a clear sky. thus taken by surprise, and off their guard, the english were at a great disadvantage. but they quickly recovered themselves, and prepared for a desperate defence. in towns where the garrisons were chiefly of native troops, with only a small nucleus of english officers and soldiers, the latter had no hope of safety, but to rally all on whom they could rely, and retreat into the forts, and hold out to the last. such a quick movement saved agra, where sir william muir told me, he and hundreds of refugees with him, passed the whole time of the mutiny, shut up in the fort. the same promptness saved allahabad. but in delhi, where the rising took place a few days before, the alarm was not taken quickly enough; the sepoys rushed in, shooting down their officers, and made themselves masters of the fort and the city, which was not retaken till months after, at the close of a long and terrible siege. at cawnpore there was no fort. sir hugh wheeler, who was in command, had three or four thousand troops, but not one man in ten was an english soldier. the rest were sepoys, who caught the fever of disaffection, and marched off with horses and guns. mustering the little remnant of his force, he threw up intrenchments on the parade-ground, into which he gathered some two hundred and fifty men of different regiments. adding to these "civilians" and native servants, and the sick in the hospital, there were about more, with women and children. the latter, of course, added nothing to the strength of the garrison, but were a constant subject of care and anxiety. but with this little force he defended himself bravely for several weeks, beating off every attack of the enemy. but he was in no condition to sustain a siege; his force was becoming rapidly reduced, while foes were swarming around him. in this extremity, uncertain when an english army could come to his relief, he received a proposal to surrender, with the promise that all--men, women, and children--should be allowed to depart in safety, and be provided with boats to take them down the ganges to allahabad. he did not listen to these smooth promises without inward misgivings. he was suspicious of treachery; but the case was desperate, and nana sahib, who up to the time of the mutiny had protested great friendship for the english, took a solemn oath that they should be protected. thus tempted, they yielded to the fatal surrender. the next morning, june th, those who were left of the little garrison marched out of their intrenchments, and were escorted by the sepoy army on their way to the boats. the women and children and wounded were mounted on elephants, and thus conveyed down to the river. with eagerness they embarked on the boats that were to carry them to a place of safety, and pushed off into the stream. at that moment a native officer who stood on the bank raised his sword, and a masked battery opened on the boats with grape-shot. instantly ensued a scene of despair. some of the boats sunk, others took fire, and men, women, and children, were struggling in the water. the mahratta horsemen pushed into the stream, and cut down the men who tried to save themselves (only four strong swimmers escaped), while the women and children were spared to a worse fate. all the men who were brought back to the shore were massacred on the spot, in the presence of this human tiger, who feasted his eyes with their blood; and about two hundred women and children were taken back into the town as prisoners, in deeper wretchedness than before. they were kept in close confinement nearly three weeks in dreadful uncertainty of their fate, till the middle of july, when havelock was approaching by forced marches; and fearful that his prey should escape, nana sahib gave orders that they should be put to death. no element of horror was wanting in that fearful tragedy. says one who saw the bodies the next day, and whose wife and children were among those who perished: "the poor ladies were ordered to come out, but neither threats nor persuasions could induce them to do so. they laid hold of each other by dozens, and clung so close that it was impossible to separate them, or drag them out of the building. the troopers therefore brought muskets, and after firing a great many shots from the doors and windows, rushed in with swords and bayonets. [one account says that, as hindoos shrink from the touch of blood, five mohammedan _butchers_ were sent in to complete the work.] some of the helpless creatures, in their agony, fell down at the feet of their murderers, clasped their legs, and begged in the most pitiful manner to spare their lives, but to no purpose. the fearful deed was done most deliberately, and in the midst of the most dreadful shrieks and cries of the victims. from a little before sunset till candlelight was occupied in completing the dreadful deed. the doors of the building were then locked up for the night, and the murderers went to their homes. next morning it was found, on opening the doors, that some ten or fifteen women, with a few of the children, had managed to escape from death by falling and hiding under the murdered bodies of their fellow-prisoners. a fresh order was therefore sent to murder them also; but the survivors, not being able to bear the idea of being cut down, rushed out into the compound, and seeing a well, threw themselves into it without hesitation, thus putting a period to lives which it was impossible for them to save. the dead bodies of those murdered on the preceding evening were then ordered to be thrown into the same well, and 'jullars' were employed to drag them along like dogs."[ ] the next day after the massacre, havelock entered the city, and officers and men rushed to the prison house, hoping to be in time to save that unhappy company of english women and children. but what horrors met their sight! not one living remained. the place showed traces of the late butchery. the floors were covered with blood. "upon the walls and pillars were the marks of bullets, and of cuts made by sword-strokes, not high up as if men had fought with men, but low down, and about the corners, where the poor crouching victims had been cut to pieces." "locks of long silky hair, torn shreds of dress, little children's shoes and playthings, were strewn around." the sight of these things drove the soldiers to madness. "when they entered the charnel house, and read the writing on the walls [sentences of wretchedness and despair], and saw the still clotted blood, their grief, their rage, their desire for vengeance, knew no bounds. stalwart, bearded men, the stern soldiers of the ranks, came out of that house perfectly unmanned, utterly unable to repress their emotions." following the track of blood from the prison to the well, they found the mangled remains of all that martyred company. there the tender english mother had been cast with every indignity, and the child still living thrown down to die upon its mother's breast. thus were they heaped together, the dying and the dead, in one writhing, palpitating mass. turning away from this ghastly sight, the soldiers asked only to meet face to face the perpetrators of these horrible atrocities. but the sepoys, cowardly as they were cruel, fled at the approach of the english. those who were taken had to suffer for the whole. "all the rebel sepoys and troopers who were captured, were collectively tried by a drumhead court-martial, and hanged." but for such a crime as the cold-blooded murder of helpless women and children, death was not enough--it should be death accompanied by shame and degradation. the craven wretches were made to clean away the clotted blood--a task peculiarly odious to a hindoo. says general neill: "whenever a rebel is caught, he is immediately tried, and unless he can prove a defence, he is sentenced to be hanged at once; but the chief rebels, or ringleaders, i make first clear up a certain portion of the pool of blood, still two inches deep in the shed where the fearful murder and mutilation of women and children took place. to touch blood is most abhorrent to the high-caste natives; they think by doing so, they doom their souls to perdition. let them think so. my object is to inflict a fearful punishment for a revolting, cowardly, and barbarous deed, and to strike terror into these rebels. "the first i caught was a subahdar, or native officer--a high-caste brahmin, who tried to resist my order to clean up the very blood he had helped to shed; but i made the provost-marshal do his duty, and a few lashes made the miscreant accomplish his task. when done, he was taken out and immediately hanged, and after death, buried in a ditch at the roadside. no one who has witnessed the scenes of murder, mutilation, and massacre, can ever listen to the word mercy, as applied to these fiends. "among other wretches drawn from their skulking places, was the man who gave nana sahib's orders for the massacre. after this man's identity had been clearly established, and his complicity in directing the massacre proved beyond all doubt, he was compelled, upon his knees, to cleanse up a portion of the blood yet scattered over the fatal yard, and while yet foul from his sickening task, hung like a dog before the gratified soldiers, one of whom writes: 'the collector who gave the order for the murder of the poor ladies, was taken prisoner day before yesterday, and now hangs from a branch of a tree about two hundred yards off the roadside.'" what became of nana sahib after the mutiny, is a mystery that probably will never be solved. if he lived he sought safety in flight. many of the mutineers took refuge in the jungle. the government kept up a hunt for him for years. several times it was thought that he was discovered. only a year or two ago a man was arrested, who was said to be nana sahib, but it proved to be a case of mistaken identity. in going up from delhi we rode in the same railway carriage with an old army surgeon, whose testimony saved the life of the suspected man. he had lived in cawnpore before the mutiny, and knew nana sahib well, indeed had been his physician, and gave me much information about the bloody mahratta chief. he said he was not so bad a man by nature, as he became when he was put forward as a leader in a desperate enterprise, and surrounded by men who urged him on to every crime. so long as he was under the wholesome restraint of english power, he was a fair specimen of the "mild hindoo," "as mild a mannered man as ever scuttled ship or cut a throat." his movement was as soft as that of a cat or a tiger. but like the tiger, when once he tasted blood, it roused the wild beast in him, and he took a delight in killing. and so he who might have lived quietly, and died in his bed, with a reputation not worse than that of other indian rulers, has left a name in history as the most execrable monster of modern times. it seems a defeat of justice that he cannot be discovered and brought to the scaffold. but perhaps the judgment of god is more severe than that of man. if he still lives, he has suffered a thousand deaths in these twenty years. my informant told me of the punishment that had come on many of these men of blood. retribution followed hard after their crimes. when the rebellion was subdued, it was stamped out without mercy. the leaders were shot away from guns. others who were only less guilty had a short trial and a swift punishment. in this work of meting out retribution, this mild physician was himself obliged to be an instrument. though his profession was that of saving lives, and not of destroying them, after the mutiny he was appointed a commissioner in the district of cawnpore, where he had lived, to try insurgents, with the power of life and death, and with no appeal from his sentence! it was a terrible responsibility, but he could not shrink from it, and he had to execute many. those especially who had been guilty of acts of cruelty, could not ask for mercy which they had never shown. among those whom he captured was the native officer who had given the signal, by raising his sword, to the masked battery to fire on the boats. he said, "i took him to that very spot, and hung him there!" all this sad history was in mind as we went down to the banks of the ganges, where that fearful tragedy took place not twenty years before. the place still bears the name of the slaughter ghat, in memory of that fearful deed. we imagined the scene that summer's morning, when the stream was covered with the bodies of women and children, and the air was filled with the shrieks of despair. with such bitter memories, we recalled the swift retribution, and rejoiced that such a crime had met with such a punishment. from the river we drove to "the well," but here nothing is painful but its memories. it is holy ground, which pious hands have decked with flowers, and consecrated as a shrine of martyrdom. around it many acres have been laid out as a garden, with all manner of tropical plants, and well-kept paths winding between, along which the stranger walks slowly and sadly, thinking of those who suffered so much in life, and that now sleep peacefully beyond the reach of pain. in the centre of the garden the place of the well is enclosed, and over the sacred spot where the bodies of the dead were thrown, stands a figure in marble, which might be that of the angel of resignation or of peace, with folded wings and face slightly bended, and arms across her breast, and in her hands palm-branches, the emblems of victory. the visit to these spots, consecrated by so much suffering, had an added tenderness of interest, because some of our own countrymen and countrywomen perished there. in those fearful scenes the blood of americans--men, women, and children--mingled with that of their english kindred. one of the most terrible incidents of those weeks of crime, was the massacre of a party from futteghur that tried to escape down the ganges, hoping to reach allahabad. as they approached cawnpore, they concealed themselves in the tall grass on an island, but were discovered by the sepoys, and made prisoners. some of the party were wealthy english residents, who offered a large ransom for their lives. but their captors answered roughly: "what they wanted was not money, but blood!" brought before nana sahib, he ordered them instantly to be put to death. among them were four american missionaries, with their wives, who showed in that hour of trial that they knew how to suffer and to die. of one of these i had heard a very touching story but a few days before from my friend, mr. woodside. when we were standing on the lower range of the himalayas, looking off to "the snows," he told me how he had once made an expedition with a brother missionary among these mountains, which are full of villages, like the hamlets in the high alps. he pointed out in the distance the very route they took, and even places on the sides of the successive ranges where they pitched their tents. they started near the close of september, and were out all october, and came in about the middle of november, being gone six weeks. after long and weary marches for many days, they came to a little village called karsali near jumnootree, the source of the sacred river jumna, near which rose a giant peak, , feet high (though we could but just see it on the horizon), that till then had never been trodden by human foot, but which they, like the daring americans they were, determined to ascend. their guides shrank from the attempt, and refused to accompany them; but they determined to make the ascent if they went alone, and at last, rather than be left behind, their men followed, although one sank down in the snow, and could not reach the summit. but the young missionaries pressed on with fresh ardor, as they climbed higher and higher. as they reached the upper altitudes, the summit, which to us at a distance of ninety miles seemed but a peak or cone, broadened out into a plateau of miles in extent; the snow was firm and hard; they feared no crevasses, and strode on with fearless steps. but there was something awful in the silence and the solitude. not a living thing could be seen on the face of earth or sky. not a bird soared to such heights; not an eagle or a vulture was abroad in search of prey; not a bone on the waste of snow told where any adventurous explorer had perished before them. alone they marched over the fields of untrodden snow, and started almost to hear their own voices in that upper air. and yet such was their sense of freedom, that they could not contain their joy. my companion, said mr. woodside, was very fond of a little hymn in hindostanee, a translation of the familiar lines: i'm a pilgrim, i'm a stranger, and i tarry but a night, and as we went upward, he burst into singing, and sang joyously as he strode over the fields of snow. little he thought that the end of his pilgrimage was so near! but six months later the mutiny broke out, and he was one of its first victims. he was of the party from futteghur, with a fate made more dreadful, because he had with him not only his wife, but two children, and the monster spared neither age nor sex. after the mutiny, mr. woodside visited cawnpore, and made diligent inquiry for the particulars of his friend's death. it was difficult to get the details, as the natives were very reticent, lest they should be accused; but as near as he could learn, "brother campbell," as he spoke of him, was led out with his wife--he holding one child in his arms, and she leading another by the hand--and thus all together they met their fate! does this seem very hard? yet was it not sweet that they could thus die together, and could come up (like the family of christian in pilgrim's progress) in one group to the wicket gate? no need had he to sing any more: i'm a pilgrim, i'm a stranger, and i tarry but a night, for on that summer morning he passed up a shining pathway, whiter than the fields of snow on the crest of the himalayas, that led him straight to the gates of gold. let no man complain of the sacrifice, who would claim the reward; for so it is written, "it is through much tribulation that we must enter into the kingdom of god." footnote: [ ] "narrative of mr. shepherd." he owed his escape to the fact that before the surrender of the garrison he had made an attempt to pass through the rebel lines and carry word to allahabad to hasten the march of troops to its relief, and had been taken and thrown into prison, and was there at the time of the massacre. chapter xvii. the story of lucknow. "you are going to lucknow?" she said. it was a lady in black, who sat in the corner of the railway carriage, as we came down from upper india. a cloud passed over her face. "i cannot go there; i was in the residency during the siege, and my husband and daughter were killed there. i cannot revisit a place of such sad memories." it was nothing to her that the long struggle had ended in victory, and that the story of the siege was one of the most glorious in english history. nothing could efface the impression of those months of suffering. she told us how day and night the storm of fire raged around them; how the women took refuge in the cellars; how her daughter was killed before her eyes by the bursting of a shell; and how, when they grew familiar with this danger, there came another terrible fear--that of death by famine; how strong men grew weak for want of food; how women wasted away from very hunger, and children died because they could find no nourishment on their mother's breasts. but amid those horrors there was one figure which she loved to recall--that of sir henry lawrence, the lion-hearted soldier, who kept up all hearts by his courage and his iron will--till he too fell, and left them almost in despair. such memories might keep away one who had been a sufferer in these fearful scenes, but they stimulated our desire to see a spot associated with such courage and devotion, and led us from the scene of the tragedy of cawnpore to that of the siege of lucknow. but how soon nature washes away the stain of blood! as we crossed the ganges, the gentle stream, rippling against the slaughter ghat, left no red spots upon its stony steps. near the station was a large enclosure full of elephants, some of which perhaps had carried their burden of prisoners down to the river's brink on that fatal day, but were now "taking their ease," as beasts and men like to do. familiar as we are with the sight, it always gives us a fresh impression of our asiatic surroundings, to come suddenly upon a herd of these creatures of such enormous bulk, with ears as large as umbrellas, which are kept moving like punkas to keep off the flies; to see them drawing up water into their trunks, as "behemoth drinketh up jordan," and spurting it over their backs; or what is more ludicrous still, to see them at play, which seems entirely out of character. we think of the elephant as a grave and solemn creature, made to figure on grand occasions, to march in triumphal processions, carrying the howdahs of great rajahs, covered with cloth of gold. but there is as much of "youth" in the elephant as in any other beast. a baby elephant is like any other baby. as little tigers play like kittens, so a little elephant is like a colt, or like "mary's little lamb." lucknow is only forty miles from cawnpore, with which it is connected by railway. a vast plain stretches to the gates of the capital of oude. it was evening when we reached our destination, where another american friend, rev. mr. mudge of the methodist mission, was waiting to receive us. a ride of perhaps a couple of miles through the streets and bazaars gave us some idea of the extent of a city which ranks among the first in india. daylight showed us still more of its extent and its magnificence. it spreads out many miles over the plain, and has a population of three hundred thousand, while in splendor it is the first of the native cities of india--by native i mean one not taking its character, like calcutta and bombay, from the english element. lucknow is more purely an indian city, and has more of the oriental style in its architecture--its domes and minarets reminding us of cairo and constantinople. bayard taylor says: "the coup d'oeil from one of the bridges over the goomtee, resembles that of constantinople from the bridge over the golden horn, and is more imposing, more picturesque, and more truly oriental than any other city in india." it is a mohammedan city, as much as delhi, the mosques quite overshadowing the hindoo temples; and the mohurrim, the great moslem festival, is observed here with the same fanaticism. but it is much larger than delhi, and though no single palaces equal those of the old moguls, yet it has more the appearance of a modern capital, in its busy and crowded streets. it is a great commercial city, with rich merchants, with artificers in silver and gold and all the fabrics of the east. but the interest of lucknow, derived from the fact of its being one of the most populous cities of india, and one of the most splendid, is quite eclipsed by the thrilling events of its recent history. all its palaces and mosques have not the attraction of one sacred spot. this is the residency, the scene of the siege, which will make the name of lucknow immortal. how the struggle came, we may see by recalling one or two facts in the history of india. a quarter of a century ago, this was not a part of the british possessions. it was the kingdom of oude, with a sovereign who still lives in a palace near calcutta, with large revenues wherewith to indulge his royal pleasure, but without his kingdom, which the english government has taken from him. this occurred just before the mutiny, and has often been alleged as one of the causes, if not _the_ cause, of the outbreak; and england has been loudly accused of perfidy and treachery towards an indian prince, and of having brought upon herself the terrible events which followed. no doubt the english government has often carried things with a high hand in india, and done acts which cannot be defended, just as we must confess that our own government, in dealing with our indian tribes, has sometimes seemed to ignore both justice and mercy. but as to this king of oude, his "right" to his dominion (which is, being interpreted, a right to torture his unhappy subjects) is about the same as the right of a bengal tiger to his jungle--a right which holds good till some daring hunter can put an end to his career. when this king ruled in oude he was such a father to his people, and such was the affection felt for his paternal government, that he had to collect his taxes by the military, and it is said that the poor people in the country built their villages on the borders of the jungle, and kept a watch out for the approach of the soldiers. as soon as they were signalled as being in sight, the wretched peasants gathered up whatever they could carry, and fled into the jungle, preferring to face the wild beasts and the serpents rather than these mercenaries of a tyrant. the troops came, seized what was left and set fire to the village. after they were gone, the miserable people returned and rebuilt their mud hovels, and tried by tilling the soil, to gain a bare subsistence. such was the patriarchal government of one of the native princes of india. this king of oude now finds his chief amusement in collecting a great menagerie. he has a very large number of wild beasts. he has also a "snakery," in which he has collected all the serpents of india. it must be confessed that such a man seems more at home among his tigers and cobras than in oppressing his wretched people. if americans who visit his palace near calcutta are moved to sympathy with this deposed king, let them remember what his government was, and they may feel a little pity for his miserable subjects. to put such a monster off the throne, and thus put an end to his tyrannies, was about as much of a "crime" as it would be to restrain the king of dahomey or of ashantee from perpetuating his "grand custom." i am out of patience with this mawkish sympathy. there is too much real misery in the world that calls for pity and relief, to have us waste our sensibilities on those who are the scourges of mankind. but once done, the deed could not be undone. having seized the bull by the horns, it was necessary to hold him, and this was not an easy matter. it needed a strong hand, which was given it in sir henry lawrence, who had been thirty years in india. hardly had he been made governor before he felt that there was danger in the air. neither he nor his brother john, the governor of the punjaub, were taken by surprise when the mutiny broke out. both expected it, and it did not find them unprepared. oude was indeed a centre of rebellion. the partisans of the ex-king were of course very active, so that when the sepoys mutinied at meerut, near delhi, the whole kingdom of oude was in open revolt. every place was taken except lucknow, and that was saved only by the wisdom and promptness of its new governor. his first work was to fortify the residency (so called from having been occupied by the former english residents), which had about as much of a military character as an old english manor-house. the grounds covered some acres, on which were scattered a few buildings, official residences and guardhouses, with open spaces between, laid out in lawns and gardens. but the quick eye of the governor saw its capability of defence. it was a small plateau, raised a few feet above the plain around, and by connecting the different buildings by walls, which could be mounted with batteries and loopholed for musketry, the whole could be constructed into a kind of fortress. into this he gathered the european residents with their women and children. and behind such rude defences a few hundred english soldiers, with as many natives who had proved faithful, kept a large army at bay for six months. there was a fort in lucknow well supplied with guns and ammunition, but it was defended by only three hundred men, and was a source of weakness rather than strength, since the english force was too small to hold it, and if it should fall into the hands of the sepoys with all its stores, it would be the arsenal of the rebellion. at delhi a similar danger had been averted only by a brave officer blowing up the arsenal with his own hand. it was a matter of the utmost moment to destroy the fort and yet to save the soldiers in it. the only hope of keeping up any defence was to unite the two feeble garrisons. but they were more than half a mile apart, and each beleaguered by watchful enemies. sir henry lawrence signalled to the officer in command: "blow up the fort, and come to the residency at twelve o'clock to-night. bring your treasure and guns, and destroy the remainder." this movement could be executed only by the greatest secrecy. but the order was promptly obeyed. at midnight the little band filed silently out of the gates, and stole with muffled steps along a retired path, almost within reach of the guns of the enemies, who discovered the movement only when they were safe in the residency, and the fuse which had been lighted at the fort reached the magazine, and exploding two hundred and fifty barrels of gunpowder, blew the massive walls into the air. but the siege was only just begun. inside the residency were collected about two thousand two hundred souls, of whom over five hundred were women and children. only about six hundred were english soldiers, and seven or eight hundred natives who had remained faithful, held to their allegiance by the personal ascendancy of sir henry lawrence.[ ] there were also some three hundred civilians, who, though unused to arms, willingly took part in the defence. thus all together the garrison did not exceed seventeen hundred men, of whom many were disabled by sickness and wounds. the force of the besiegers was twenty to one. there is in the indian nature a strange mixture of languor and ferocity, and the latter was aroused by the prospect of vengeance on the english, who were penned up where they could not escape, and where their capture was certain; and every sepoy wished to be in at the death. under the attraction of such a prospect it is said that the besieging force rose to fifty thousand men. many of the natives, who had been in the english service, were practised artillerists, and trained their guns on the slender defences with fatal effect. advancing over the level ground, they drew their lines nearer and nearer, till their riflemen picked off the soldiers serving in the batteries. three times they made a breach by exploding mines under the walls, and endeavored to carry the place by storm. but then rose high the unconquerable english spirit. they expected to die, but they were determined to sell their lives dearly. when the alarm of these attacks reached the hospital, the sick and wounded crawled out of their beds and threw away their crutches to take their place at the guns; or if they could not stand, lay down flat on their faces and fired through the holes made for musketry. but brave as were the defenders, the long endurance told upon them. they were worn out with watching, and their ranks grew thinner day by day. those who were killed were carried off in the arms of their companions, who gathered at midnight for their burial in some lonely and retired spot, and while the chaplain in a low voice read the service, the survivors stood around the grave, thinking how soon their turn would come, the gloom of the night in fit harmony with the dark thoughts that filled their breasts. but darker than any night was the day when sir henry lawrence fell. he was the beloved, the adored commander. "while he lived," said our informant, "we all felt safe." but exposing himself too much, he was struck by a shell. those around him lifted him up tenderly and carried him away to the house of the surgeon of the garrison, where two days after he died. when all was over "they did not dare to let the soldiers know that he was dead," lest they should give up the struggle. but he lived long enough to inspire them with his unconquerable spirit. he died on the th of july, and for nearly three months the siege went on without change, the situation becoming every day more desperate. it was the hottest season of the year, and the sun blazed down fiercely into their little camp, aggravating the sickness and suffering, till they longed for death, and were glad when they could find the grave. "when my daughter was struck down by a fragment of a shell that fell on the floor, she did not ask to live. she might have been saved if she had been where she could have had careful nursing. but there was no proper food to nourish the strength of the sick, and so she sunk away, feeling that it was better to die than to live." but still they would not yield to despair. havelock had taken cawnpore, though he came too late to save the english from massacre, and was straining every nerve to collect a force sufficient to relieve lucknow. as soon as he could muster a thousand men he crossed the ganges, and began his march. the movement was known to the little garrison, and kept up their hopes. a faithful native, who acted as a spy throughout the siege, went to and fro, disguising himself, and crept through the lines in the night, and got inside the residency, and told them relief was coming. "he had seen the general, and said he was a little man with white hair," who could be no other than havelock. word was sent back that, on approaching the city, rockets should be sent up to notify the garrison. night after night officers and men gazed toward the west for the expected signal, till their hearts grew sick as the night passed and there was no sign. deliverance was to come, but not yet. havelock found that he had attempted the impossible. his force was but a handful, compared with the hosts of his enemies. even nature appeared to be against him. it was the hot and rainy season, when it seemed impossible to march over the plains of india. cannon had to be drawn by bullocks over roads and across fields, where they sank deep in mud. men had to march and fight now in the broiling sun, and now in floods of rain. "in the full midday heat of the worst season of the year, did our troops start. the sun struck down with frightful force. at every step a man reeled out of the ranks, and threw himself fainting by the side of the road; the calls for water were incessant all along the line." "during the interval between the torrents of rain, the sun's rays were so overpowering that numbers of the men were smitten down and died." but the survivors closed up their ranks and kept their face to the foe. their spirit was magnificent. death had lost its terrors for them, and they made light of hardships and dangers. when fainting with heat, if they found a little dirty water by the roadside "it was like nectar." after marching all day in the rain, they would lie down in the soaking mud, and grasp their guns, and wrap their coats around them, and sleep soundly. says an officer: "august th we marched toward lucknow nine miles and then encamped on a large plain for the night. you must bear in mind that we had no tents with us, they are not allowed, so every day we were exposed to the burning sun and to the rain and dew by night. no baggage or beds were allowed; but the soldier wrapped his cloak around him, grasped his musket and went to sleep, and soundly we slept too. my arab horse served me as a pillow, i used to lie down alongside of him, with my head on his neck, and he never moved with me except now and then to lick my hand." but he adds, "we found that it was impossible to proceed to lucknow, for our force was too small--for though we were a brave little band, and could fight to lucknow, yet we could not compel them to raise the siege when we got there." another enemy also had appeared. cholera had broken out in the camp; eleven men died in one day. the rebels too were rising behind them. as soon as havelock crossed the ganges they began to gather in his rear. nana sahib was mustering a force and threatened cawnpore. thus beset behind and before, havelock turned and marched against the mahratta chief, and sent him flying towards delhi. in reading the account of these marches and battles, it is delightful to see the spirit between the commander and his men. after this victory, as he rode along the lines, they cheered him vehemently. he returned their salute, but said, "don't cheer me, my lads, you did it all yourselves." such men, fighting together, were invincible. in september havelock had collected , men, and again set out for lucknow. three days they marched "under a deluge of rain." but their eyes were "steadfastly set" towards the spot where their countrymen were in peril, and they cared not for hardships and dangers. the garrison was apprised of their coming, and waited with feverish anxiety. in the relieving force was a regiment of highlanders, and if no crazy woman could put her ears to the ground (according to the romantic story so often told) and hear the pibroch, and shout "the campbells are coming," they knew that those brave scots never turned back. as they drew near the city over the cawnpore road, they found that it was mined to blow them up. instantly they wheeled off, and marched round the city, and came up on the other side. capturing the alumbagh, one of the royal residences, which, surrounded by a wall, was easily converted into a temporary fortress, havelock left here his heavy baggage and stores of ammunition, with an immense array of elephants and camels and horses; and all his sick and wounded, and the whole train of camp-followers; and three hundred men, with four guns to defend it. thus "stripped for the fight," he began his attack on the city. it was two miles to the residency, and every step the english had to fight their way through the streets. the battle began in the morning, and lasted all day. it was a desperate attempt to force their way through a great city, where every man was an enemy, and they were fired at from almost every house. "our advance was through streets of flat-roofed and loop-holed houses, each forming a separate fortress." our informant told us of the frenzy in the residency when they heard the sound of the guns. "the campbells were coming" indeed! sometimes the firing lulled, and it seemed as if they were driven back. then it rose again, and came nearer and nearer. how the tide of battle ebbed and flowed, is well told in the narratives of those who were actors in the scenes: "throughout the night of the th great agitation and alarm had prevailed in the city; and, as morning advanced, increased and rapid movements of men and horses, gave evidence of the excited state of the rebel force. at noon, increasing noise proclaimed that street fighting was growing more fierce in the distance; but from the residency nought but the smoke from the fire of the combatants could be discerned. as the afternoon advanced, the sounds came nearer and nearer, and then we heard the sharp crack of rifles mingled with the flash of musketry; the well-known uniforms of british soldiers were next discerned." a lady who was in the residency, and has written a diary of the siege, thus describes the coming in of the english troops: "never shall i forget the moment to the latest day i live. we had no idea they were so near, and were breathing the air in the portico as usual at that hour, speculating when they might be in; when suddenly just at dusk, we heard a very sharp fire of musketry close by, and then a tremendous cheering. an instant after, the sound of bagpipes--then soldiers running up the road--our compound and veranda filled with our deliverers, and all of us shaking hands frantically, and exchanging fervent 'god bless you's' with the gallant men and officers of the th highlanders. sir james outram and staff were the next to come in, and the state of joyful confusion and excitement was beyond all description. the big, rough-bearded soldiers were seizing the little children out of our arms, kissing them, with tears rolling down their cheeks, and thanking god they had come in time to save them from the fate of those at cawnpore. we were all rushing about to give the poor fellows drinks of water, for they were perfectly exhausted; and tea was made down in the tye-khana, of which a large party of tired, thirsty officers partook, without milk or sugar. we had nothing to give them to eat. every one's tongue seemed going at once with so much to ask and to tell; and the faces of utter strangers beamed upon each other like those of dearest friends and brothers." it was indeed a great deliverance, but the danger was not over. of all that were in the residency when the siege began, three months before, more than half were gone. out of twenty-two hundred but nine hundred were left, and of these less than one-half were fighting men. even with the reinforcement of havelock the garrison was still far too small to hold such a position in the midst of a city of such a population. the siege went on for two months longer. the final relief did not come till sir colin campbell, arriving with a larger force, again fought his way through the city. the atrocities of the sepoys had produced such a feeling that he could hardly restrain his soldiers. remembering the murders and massacres of their countrymen and countrywomen, they fought with a savage fury. in one walled enclosure, which they carried by storm, were two thousand sepoys, and they killed every man! even then the work was not completed. scarcely had sir colin campbell entered the residency before he decided upon its evacuation. again the movement was executed at midnight, in silence and in darkness. while the watch-fires were kept burning to deceive the enemy, the men filed out of the gates, with the women and children in the centre of the column, and moving softly and quickly through a narrow lane, in the morning they were several miles from the city, in a strong position, which made them safe from attack. the joy of this hour of deliverance was saddened by the death of havelock. he had passed through all the dangers of battle and siege, only to die at last of disease, brought on by the hardships and exposures of the last few months. but his work was done. he had nothing to do but to die. to his friend, sir james outram, who came to see him, he stretched out his hand and said: "for more than forty years i have so ruled my life, that when death came, i might face it without fear." the garrison was saved, but the city was still in the hands of the rebels, who were as defiant as ever. it was some months before sir colin campbell gathered forces sufficient for the final and crushing blow. indeed it was not till winter that he had collected a really formidable army. then he moved on the city in force and carried it by storm. two days of terrible fighting gave him the mastery of lucknow, and the british flag was once more raised over the capital of oude, where it has floated in triumph unto this day. but the chief interest gathers about the earlier defence. the siege of lucknow is one of the most thrilling events in modern history, and may well be remembered with pride by all who took part in it. a few weeks before we were here the prince of wales had made his visit to lucknow, and requested that the survivors of the siege might be presented to him. mr. mudge was present at the interview, and told me he had never witnessed a more affecting scene than when these brave old soldiers, the wrecks of the war, some of them bearing the marks of their wounds, came up to the prince, and received his warmest thanks for their courage and fidelity. these heroic memories were fresh in mind as we took our morning walk in lucknow, along the very street by which havelock had fought his way through the city. the residency is now a ruin, its walls shattered by shot and shell. but the ruins are overrun with vines and creeping plants, and are beautiful even in their decay. with sad interest we visited the spot where sir henry lawrence was struck by the fatal shell, and the cemetery in which he is buried. he was a christian soldier and before his death received the communion. he asked that no eulogy might be written on his tomb, but only these words: "here lies henry lawrence, who tried to do his duty. may god have mercy on his soul." this dying utterance is inscribed on the plain slab of marble that covers his dust. it is enough. no epitaph could say more. as i stood there and read these simple words and thought of the noble dead, my eyes were full of tears. with such a consciousness of duty done, who could fear to die? how well do these words express that which should be the highest end of human ambition. happy will it be for any man of whom, when he has passed from the world, it can with truth be written above his grave, "here lies one who tried to do his duty!" footnote: [ ] as the historian of the mutiny has frequent occasion to speak of the treachery of the sepoys, it should not be forgotten that to this there were splendid exceptions; that some were "found faithful among the faithless." even in the regiments that mutinied there were some who were not carried away by the general madness; and, when the little remnant of english soldiers retreated into the residency, these loyal natives went with them, and shared all the dangers and hardships of the siege. even after it was begun, they were exposed to every temptation to seduce them from their allegiance; for as the lines of the besiegers drew closer to the residency and hemmed it in on every side, the assailants were so near that they could talk with those within over the palisades of the intrenchments, and the sepoys appealed to their late fellow-soldiers by threats, and taunts, and promises; by pride of race and of caste; by their love of country and of their religion, to betray the garrison. but not a man deserted his post. hundreds were killed in the siege, and their blood mingled with that of their english companions-in-arms. history does not record a more noble instance of fidelity. chapter xviii. the english rule in india. in reviewing the terrible scenes of the mutiny, one cannot help asking whether such scenes are likely to occur again; whether there will ever be another rebellion; and if so, what may be the chance of its success? will the people of india wish to rise? how are they affected towards the english government? are they loyal? we can only answer these questions by asking another: who are meant by the people of india? the population is divided into different classes, as into different castes. the great mass of the people are passive. accustomed to being handed over from one native ruler to another, they care not who holds the power. he is the best ruler who oppresses them the least. but among the high caste brahmins, and especially those who have been educated (among whom alone there is anything like political life in india), there is a deep-seated disaffection towards the english rule. this is a natural result of an education which enlarges their ideas and raises their ambition. some of the bengalees, for example, are highly educated men, and it is but natural that, as they increase in knowledge, they should think that they are quite competent to govern themselves. hence their dislike to the foreign power that is imposed upon them. not that they have any personal wrongs to avenge. it may be that they are attached to english _men_, while they do not like the english rule. every man whose mind is elevated by knowledge and reflection, wishes to be his own master; and if ruled at all, he likes to be ruled by those of his own blood and race and language. this class of men, whether hindoos or mohammedans, however courteous they may be to the english in their personal or business relations, are not thereby converted to loyalty, any more than they are converted to christianity. but however strong their dislike, it is not very probable that it should take shape in organized rebellion, and still less likely that any such movement should succeed. the english are now guarded against it as never before. in the mutiny they were taken at every possible disadvantage. the country was almost stripped of english troops. only , men were left, and these scattered far apart, and surrounded by three times their number of sepoys in open rebellion. thus even the military organization was in the hands of the enemy. if with all these things against them, english skill and courage and discipline triumphed at last, can it ever be put to such a test again? when the mutiny was over, and the english had time to reflect on the danger they had escaped, they set themselves to repair their defences, so that they should never more be in such peril. the first thing was to reorganize the army, to weed out the elements of disaffection and rebellion, and to see that the power was henceforth in safe hands. the english troops were tripled in force, till now, instead of twenty, they number sixty thousand men. the native regiments were carefully chosen from those only who had proved faithful, such as the goorkas, who fought so bravely at delhi, and other hill tribes of the himalayas; and the punjaubees, who are splendid horsemen, and make the finest cavalry. but not even these, brave and loyal as they had been, were mustered into any regiment except cavalry and infantry. not a single native soldier was left in the artillery. in the mutiny, if the sepoys had not been practised gunners, they would not have been so formidable at the siege of lucknow and elsewhere. now they are stripped of this powerful arm, and in any future rising they could do nothing against fortified places, nor against an army in the field, equipped with modern artillery. in reserving this arm of the service to themselves, the english have kept the decisive weapon in their own hands. then it is hardly too much to say that by the present complete system of railroads, the english force is _quadrupled_, as this gives them the means of concentrating rapidly at any exposed point. to these elements of military strength must be added the greater organizing power of englishmen. the natives make good soldiers. they are brave, and freely expose themselves in battle. in the sikh war the punjaubees fought desperately. so did the sepoys in the mutiny. but the moment the plan of attack was disarranged, they were "all at sea." their leaders had no "head" for quick combinations in presence of an enemy. as it has been, so it will be. in any future contests it will be not only the english sword, english guns, and english discipline, but more than all, the english brains, that will get them the victory. such is the position of england in india. she holds a citadel girt round with defences on every side, with strong walls without, and brave hearts within. i have been round about her towers, and marked well her bulwarks, and i see not why, so guarded and defended, she may not hold her indian empire for generations to come. but there is a question back of all this. might does not make right. a government may be established in power that is not established in justice. it may be that the english are to remain masters of india, yet without any right to that splendid dominion. as we read the thrilling stories of the mutiny, it is almost with a guilty feeling (as if it betrayed a want of sympathy with all that heroism), that we admit any inquiry as to the cause of that fearful tragedy. but how came all this blood to be shed? has not england something to answer for? if she has suffered terribly, did she not pay the penalty of her own grasping ambition? nations, like individuals, often bring curses on themselves, the retribution of their oppressions and their crimes. the fact that men fight bravely, is no proof that they fight in a just cause. nay, the very admiration that we feel for their courage in danger and in death, but increases our horror at the "political necessity" which requires them to be sacrificed. if england by her own wicked policy provoked the mutiny, is she not guilty of the blood of her children? thomas jefferson, though a slaveholder himself, used to say that in a war of races every attribute of almighty god would take part with the slave against his master; and englishmen may well ask whether in the conflict which has come once, and may come again, they can be quite sure that infinite justice will always be on their side. in these sentences i have put the questions which occur to an american travelling in india. wherever he goes, he sees the english flag flying on every fortress--the sign that india is a conquered country. the people who inhabit the country are not those who govern it. with his republican ideas of the right of every nation to govern itself, he cannot help asking: what business have the english in india? what right have a handful of englishmen, so far from their native island, in another hemisphere, to claim dominion over two hundred millions of men? as an american, i have not the bias of national feeling to lead me to defend and justify the english rule in india; though i confess that when, far off here in asia, among these dusky natives, i see a white face, and hear my own mother tongue, i feel that "blood is thicker than water," and am ready to take part with my kindred against all comers. even americans cannot but feel a pride in seeing men of their own race masters of such a kingdom in the east. but this pride of empire will not extinguish in any fair mind the sense of justice and humanity. "have the english any right in india?" if it be "a question of titles," we may find it difficult to prove our own right in america, from which we have crowded out the original inhabitants. none of us can claim a title from the father of the human race. all new settlers in a country are "invaders." but public interest and the common law of the world demand that power, once established, should be recognized. according to the american principle, that "all just government derives its authority from the consent of the governed," there never was a just government in india, for the consent of the governed was never obtained. the people of india were never asked to give their "consent" to the government established over them. they were ruled by native princes, who were as absolute, and in general as cruel tyrants, as ever crushed a wretched population. no doubt in planting themselves in india, the english have often used the rights of conquerors. no one has denounced their usurpations and oppressions more than their own historians, such as mill and macaulay. the latter, in his eloquent reviews of the lives of clive and warren hastings, has spoken with just severity of the crimes of those extraordinary but unscrupulous men. for such acts no justification can be pleaded whatever. but as between clive and surajah dowlah, the rule of the former was infinitely better. it would be carrying the doctrine of self-government to an absurd extent, to imagine that the monster who shut up english prisoners in the black hole had any right which was to be held sacred. the question of right, therefore, is not between the english and the people of india, but between the english and the native princes. indeed england comes in to protect the people against the princes, when it gives them one strong master in place of a hundred petty tyrants. the king of oude collecting his taxes by soldiers, is but an instance of that oppression and cruelty which extended all over india, but which is now brought to an end. and how has england used her power? at first, we must confess, with but little of the feeling of responsibility which should accompany the possession of power. nearly a hundred years ago, burke (who was master of all facts relating to the history of india, and to its political condition, more than any other man of his time) bitterly arraigned the english government for its cruel neglect of that great dependency. he denounced his countrymen, the agents of the east india company, as a horde of plunderers, worse than the soldiers of tamerlane, and held up their greedy and rapacious administration to the scorn of mankind, showing that they had left no beneficent monuments of their power to compare with those of the splendid reigns of the old moguls. in a speech in parliament in , he said: "england has erected no churches, no palaces, no hospitals, no schools; england has built no bridges, made no high roads, cut no navigations, dug out no reservoirs. every other conqueror of every other description has left some monument either of state or beneficence behind him. were we to be driven out of india this day, nothing would remain to tell that it had been possessed, during the inglorious period of our dominion, by anything better than the orang-outang or the tiger." this is a fearful accusation. what answer can be made to it? has there been any change for the better since the great impeacher of warren hastings went to his grave? how has england governed india since that day? she has not undertaken to govern it like a model republic. if she had, her rule would soon have come to an end. she has not given the hindoos universal suffrage, or representation in parliament. but she has given them something better--peace and order and law, a trinity of blessings that they never had before. when the native princes ruled in india, they were constantly at war among themselves, and thus overrunning and harassing the country. now the english government rules everywhere, and peace reigns from cape comorin to the himalayas. strange to say, this quietness does not suit some of the natives, who have a restless longing for the wild lawlessness of former times. a missionary was one day explaining to a crowd the doctrine of original sin, when he was roughly interrupted by one who said, "i know what is original sin: it is the english rule in india." "you ought not to say that," was the reply, "for if it were not for the english the people of the next village would make a raid on your village, and carry off five thousand sheep." but the other was not to be put down so, and answered promptly, "_i should like that_, for then we would make a raid on them and carry off ten thousand!" this was a blunt way of putting it, but it expresses the feeling of many who would prefer that kind of wild justice which prevails among the tartar hordes of central asia to a state of profound tranquility. they would rather have asiatic barbarism than european civilization. with peace between states, england has established order in every community. it has given protection to life and property--a sense of security which is the first condition of the existence of human society. it has abolished heathen customs which were inhuman and cruel. it has extirpated thuggism, and put an end to infanticide and the burning of widows. this was a work of immense difficulty, because these customs, horrid as they were, were supported by religious fanaticism. mothers cast their children into the ganges as an offering to the gods; and widows counted it a happy escape from the sufferings of life to mount the funeral pile. even to this day there are some who think it hard that they cannot thus sacrifice themselves. so wedded are the people to their customs, that they are very jealous of the interference of the government, when it prohibits any of their practices on the ground of humanity. dr. newton, of lahore, the venerable missionary, told me that he knew a few years ago a fakir, a priest of a temple, who had grown to be very friendly with him. one day the poor man came, with his heart full of trouble, to tell his griefs. he had a complaint against the government. he said that sir john lawrence, then governor of the punjaub, was very arbitrary. and why? because he wanted to bury himself alive, and the governor wouldn't let him! he had got to be a very old man (almost a hundred), and of course must soon leave this world. he had had a tomb prepared in the grounds of the temple (he took dr. newton to see what a nice place it was), and there he wished to lie down and breathe his last. with the hindoos it is an act of religious merit to bury one's self alive, and on this the old man had set his heart. if he could do this, he would go straight to paradise, but the hard english governor, insensible to such considerations, would not permit it. was it not too bad that he could not be allowed to go to heaven in his own way? breaking up these old barbarities--suicide, infanticide, and the burning of widows--the government has steadily aimed to introduce a better system for the administration of justice, in which, with due regard to hindoo customs and prejudices, shall be incorporated, as far as possible, the principles of english law. for twenty years the ablest men that could be found in india or in england, have been engaged in perfecting an elaborate indian code, in which there is one law for prince and pariah. what must be the effect on the hindoo mind of such a system, founded in justice, and enforced by a power which they cannot resist? such laws administered by english magistrates, will educate the hindoos to the idea of justice, which, outside of english colonies, can hardly be said to exist in asia. the english are the romans of the modern world. wherever the roman legions marched, they ruled with a strong hand, but they established law and order, the first conditions of human society. so with the english in all their asiatic dependencies. wherever they come, they put an end to anarchy, and give to all men that sense of protection and security, that feeling of personal safety--safety both to life and property--without which there is no motive to human effort, and no possibility of human progress. the english are like the romans in another feature of their administration, in the building of roads. the romans were the great road-builders of antiquity. highways which began at rome, and thus radiated from a common centre, led to the most distant provinces. not only in italy, but in spain and gaul and germany, did the ancient masters of the world leave these enduring monuments of their power. following this example, england, before the days of railroads, built a broad macadamized road from calcutta to peshawur, over , miles. this may have been for a military purpose; but no matter, it serves the ends of peace more than of war. it becomes a great avenue of commerce; it opens communication between distant parts of india, and brings together men of different races, speaking different languages; and thus, by promoting peaceful and friendly intercourse, it becomes a highway of civilization. nor is this the only great road in this country. everywhere i have found the public highways in excellent condition. indeed i have not found a bad road in india--not one which gave me such a "shaking up" as i have sometimes had when riding over the "corduroys" through the western forests of america. around the large towns the roads are especially fine--broad and well paved, and often planted with trees. the cities are embellished with parks, like cities in england, with botanical and zoölogical gardens. the streets are kept clean, and strict sanitary regulations are enforced--a matter of the utmost moment in this hot climate, and in a dense population, where a sudden outbreak of cholera would sweep off thousands in a few days or hours. the streets are well lighted and well policed, so that one may go about at any hour of day or night with as much safety as in london or new york. if these are the effects of foreign rule, even the most determined grumbler must confess that it has proved a material and substantial benefit to the people of india. less than twenty years ago the internal improvements of india received a sudden and enormous development, when to the building of roads succeeded that of railroads. lord dalhousie, when governor-general, had projected a great railroad system, but it was not till after the mutiny, and perhaps in consequence of the lessons learned by that terrible experience, that the work was undertaken on a large scale. the government guaranteed five per cent. interest for a term of years, and the capital was supplied from england. labor was abundant and cheap, and the works were pushed on with unrelaxing energy, till india was belted from bombay to calcutta, and trunk lines were running up and down the country, with branches to every large city. thus, to english foresight and sagacity, to english wealth and engineering skill, india owes that vast system of railroads which now spreads over the whole peninsula. in no part of the world are railroads more used than in india. of course the first-class carriages are occupied chiefly by english travellers, or natives of high rank; and the second-class by those less wealthy. but there are trains for the people, run at very low fares. there are huge cars, built with two stories, and carrying a hundred passengers each, and these two-deckers are often very closely packed. the hindoos have even learned to make pilgrimages by steam, and find it much cheaper, as well as easier, than to go afoot. when one considers the long journeys they have been accustomed to undertake under the burning sun of india, the amount of suffering relieved by a mode of locomotion so cool and swift is beyond computation. will anybody tell me that the people of india, if left alone, would have built their own railways? perhaps in the course of ages, but not in our day. the asiatic nature is torpid and slow to move, and cannot rouse itself to great exertion. in the whole empire of china there is not a railroad, except at shanghai, where a few months ago was opened a little "one-horse concern," a dozen miles long, built by the foreigners for the convenience of that english settlement. this may show how rapid would have been the progress of railroads in india, if left wholly to native "enterprise." it would have taken hundreds of years to accomplish what the english have wrought in one generation. nor does english engineering skill expend itself on railroads alone. it has dug canals that are like rivers in their length. the ganges canal in upper india is a work equal to our erie canal. other canals have been opened, both for commerce and for irrigation. the latter is a matter vital to india. the food of the hindoos is rice, and rice cannot be cultivated except in fields well watered. a drought in the rice fields means a famine in the province. such a calamity is now averted in many places by this artificial irrigation. the overflow from these streams, which are truly "fountains in the desert," has kept whole districts from being burnt up, by which in former years millions perished by famine. while thus caring for the material comfort and safety of the people of india, england has also shown regard to their enlightenment in providing a magnificent system of national education. every town in india has its government school, while many a large city has its college or its university. indeed, so far has this matter of education been carried, that i heard a fear expressed that it was being overdone--at least the higher education--because the young men so educated were unfitted for anything else than the employ of the government. all minor places in india are filled by natives, and well filled too. but there are not enough for all. and hence many, finding no profession to enter, and educated above the ordinary occupations of natives, are left stranded on the shore. these great changes in india, these schools and colleges, the better administration of the laws, and these vast internal improvements, have been almost wholly the work of the generation now living. in the first century of its dominion the english rule perhaps deserved the bitter censure of burke, but "if 'twere so, it were a grievous fault, and grievously hath cæsar answered it." england has paid for the misgovernment of india in the blood of her children, and within the last few years she has striven nobly to repair the errors of former times. thus one generation makes atonement for the wrongs of another. she has learned that justice is the highest wisdom, and the truest political economy. the change is due in part to the constant pressure of the christian sentiment of england upon its government, which has compelled justice to india, and wrought those vast changes which we see with wonder and admiration. thus stretching out her mighty arm over india, england rules the land from sea to sea. i say not that she rules it in absolute righteousness--that her government is one of ideal perfection, but it is immeasurably better than that of the old native tyrants which it displaced. it at least respects the forms of law, and while it establishes peace, it endeavors also to maintain justice. the railroads that pierce the vast interior quicken the internal commerce of the country, while the waters that are caused to flow over the rice-fields of bengal abate the horrors of pestilence and famine. thus england gives to her asiatic empire the substantial benefits of modern civilization; while in her schools and colleges she brings the subtle hindoo mind into contact with the science and learning of the west. at so many points does this foreign rule touch the very life of india, and infuse the best blood of europe into her languid veins. with such results of english rule, who would not wish that it might continue? it is not that we love the hindoo less, but the cause of humanity more. the question of english rule in india is a question of civilization against barbarism. these are the two forces now in conflict for the mastery of asia. india is the place where the two seas meet. shall she be left to herself, shut up between her seas and her mountains? that would be an unspeakable calamity, not only to her present inhabitants, but to unborn millions. i believe in modern civilization, as i believe in christianity. these are the great forces which are to conquer the world. in conquering asia, they will redeem it and raise it to a new life. the only hope of asia is from europe: "better fifty years of europe than a cycle of cathay;" and the only hope of india is from england. so whatever contests may yet arise for the control of this vast peninsula, with its two hundred millions of people, our sympathies must always be against asiatic barbarism, and on the side of european civilization. chapter xix. missions in india--do missionaries do any good? "is it not all a farce?" said a major in the bengal staff corps, as we came down from upper india. we were talking of missions. he did not speak of them with hatred, but only with contempt. the missionaries "meant well," but they were engaged in an enterprise which was so utterly hopeless, that no man in his senses could regard it as other than supreme and almost incredible folly. in this he spoke the opinion of half the military men of india. they have no personal dislike to missionaries--indeed many an officer in an out-of-the-way district, who has a missionary family for almost his only neighbors, will acknowledge that they are "a great addition to the english society." but as for their doing any good, as an officer once said to me: "they might as well go and stand on the shore of the sea and preach to the fishes, as to think to convert the hindoos!" their success, of which so much is said in england and america, is "infinitesimally small." some even go so far as to say that the missionaries do great mischief; that they stir up bad blood in the native population, and perpetuate an animosity of races. far better would it be to leave the "mild hindoo" to his gods; to let him worship his sacred cows, and monkeys and serpents, and his hideous idols, so long as he is a quiet and inoffensive subject of the government. if one were preaching a sermon to a christian congregation, he might disdain a reply to objections which seem to come out of the mouths of unbelievers; it would be enough to repeat the words of him who said, "go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature." but i am not preaching, but conversing with an intelligent gentleman, who has lived long in india, and might well assume that he knows far more about the actual situation than i do. such men are not to be put down. they represent a large part of the anglo-indian population. we may therefore as well recognize the fact that modern missions, like any other enterprise which is proposed in the interest of civilization, are now on trial before the world. we may look upon them as too sacred for criticism; but in this irreverent age nothing is too sacred; everything that is holy has to be judged by reason, and by practical results, and by these to be justified or to be condemned. i would not therefore claim anything on the ground of authority, but speak of missions as i would of national education, or even of the railroad system of india. the question here raised i think deserves a larger and more candid treatment than it commonly receives either from the advocates or the opponents of missions. it is not to be settled merely by pious feeling, by unreasoning sentiment on the one hand, nor by sneers on the other. to convert a whole country from one religion to another, is an undertaking so vast that it is not to be lightly entered upon. the very attempt assumes a superior wisdom on the part of those who make it, which is itself almost an offence. if it be not "a grand impertinence," an intrusion into matters with which no stranger has a right to intermeddle, it is at least taking a great liberty to thrust upon a man our opinion in censure of his own. we may think him very ignorant, and in need of being enlightened. but he may have a poor opinion of our ability to enlighten him. we think him a fool, and he returns the compliment. at any rate, right or wrong, he is entitled to the freedom of his opinion as much as we are to ours. if a stranger were to come to us day by day, to argue with us, and to force his opinions upon us, either in politics or religion, we might listen civilly and patiently at first, but we should end by turning him out of doors. what right have we to pronounce on his opinions and conduct any more than he upon ours? in the domain of religion, especially, a man's opinions are sacred. they are between himself and god. there is no greater offence against courtesy, against that mutual concession of perfect freedom, which is the first law of all human intercourse, than to interfere wantonly with the opinions--nay, if you please, with the false opinions, with the errors and prejudices--of mankind. nothing but the most imperative call of humanity--a plea of "necessity or mercy"--can justify a crusade against the ancestral faith of a whole people. i state the case as strongly as i can, that we may look upon it as an english officer, or even an intelligent hindoo, looks upon it, and i admit frankly that we have no more right to force our religion upon the people of india, than to force upon them a republican form of government, unless we can give a reason for it, which shall be recognized at the bar of the intelligent judgment of mankind. is there then any good reason--any _raison d'être_--for the establishment of missions in india? if there be not some very solid and substantial ground for their existence, they are not to be justified merely because their motive is good. is there then any reason whatever which can justify any man, or body of men, in invading this country with a new religion, and attacking the ancient faith of the people? all students of history will acknowledge that there are certain great revolutions in the opinions of mankind, which are epochs in history, and turning points in the life of nations. india has had many such revolutions, dating far back before the christian era. centuries before christ was born, buddha preached his new faith on the banks of the ganges. for a time it conquered the country, driving out the old brahminism, which however came back and conquered in its turn, till buddhism, retiring slowly from the plains of india, planted its pagodas on the shores of burmah and among the mountains of ceylon. thus india is a land of missions, and has been from the very beginnings of history. it was traversed by missionaries of its ancient faith ages before tamerlane descended the passes of the himalayas with the sword in one hand and the koran in the other; or francis xavier, the apostle of the indies, laid his bones in the cathedral of goa. if then buddhists and brahmins, and moslems and romanists, have so long disputed the land, there is certainly no reason why we should condemn at the very outset the entrance of protestant christianity. beside this great fact in the history of india place another: that there is no country in the world where religion is such a power, such an element in the life of the people. the hindoos are not only religious, they are intensely so. they have not indeed the fierce fanaticism of the moslems, for their creed tolerates all religions, but what they believe they believe strongly. they have a subtle philosophy which pervades all their thinking, which digs the very channels in which their thoughts run, and cannot overflow; and this philosophy, which is imbedded in their religious creed, fixes their castes and customs, as rigidly as it does their forms of worship. religion is therefore the chief element in the national life. it has more to do in moulding the ideas and habits, the manners and customs, of the people, than laws or government, or any other human institution. thus india furnishes the most imposing illustration on earth of the power of religion to shape the destiny of a country or a race. whether there be anything to justify a friendly invasion of india, and the attempt to convert its people to a better religion, may appear if we ask, what is hindooism? is it a good or bad faith? does it make men better or worse--happy or unhappy? does it promote the welfare of human beings, or is it a system which is false in belief and deadly in its effects, and against which we have a right to wage a holy war? hindooism has a thousand shapes, spreading out its arms like a mighty banyan tree, but its root is one--pantheism. when an old fakir at the méla at allahabad said to me, "you are god and i am god!" he did not utter a wild rhapsody, but expressed the essence of hindoo philosophy, according to which all beings that exist are but one being; all thoughts are but the pulse-beats of one infinite mind; all acts are but the manifestation of one universal life. some may think this theory a mere abstraction, which has no practical bearing. but carried out to its logical consequences, it overthrows all morality. if all acts of men are god's acts, then they are all equally good or bad; or rather, they are neither good nor bad. thus moral distinctions are destroyed, and vice and virtue are together banished from the world. hence hindooism as a religion has nothing whatever to do with morality or virtue, but is only a means of propitiating angry deities. it is a religion of terror and fear. it is also unspeakably vile. it is the worship of obscene gods by obscene rites. its very gods and goddesses commit adultery and incest. thus vice is deified. such a mythology pollutes the imaginations of the people, whereby their very mind and conscience are defiled. not only the heart, but even the intellect is depraved by the loathsome objects set up in their temples. the most common object of worship in india is an obscene image. indeed, so well understood is this, that when a law was passed by the government against the exhibition of obscene images, an express exception was made in favor of those exposed in temples, and which were objects of religious worship. thus hindooism has the privilege of indecency, and is allowed to break over all restraints. it is the licensed harlot, that is permitted, in deference to its religious pretensions, to disregard the common decencies of mankind. the effect of this on public morals can be imagined. the stream cannot rise higher than its source. how can a people be pure, when their very religion is a fountain of pollution? but this is a subject on which we cannot enlarge. it is an abyss into which no one would wish to look. it is sufficient to indicate what we cannot for very loathing undertake to describe. there is another element in the hindoo religion, which cannot be ignored, and which gives it a tremendous power for good or evil. it is caste. every hindoo child is born in a certain caste, out of which he cannot escape. when i landed at bombay i observed that every native had upon his forehead a mark freshly made, as if with a stroke of the finger, which indicated the god he worshipped or the caste to which he belonged. of these there are four principal ones--the priest, or brahmin caste, which issued out of the mouth of brahm; the warrior caste, which sprung from his arms and breast; the merchant caste, from his thighs; and the shoodras, or servile caste, which crawled out from between his feet; beside the pariahs, who are below all caste. these divisions are absolute and unchangeable. to say that they are maintained by the force of ancient custom is not enough: they are fixed as by a law of nature. the strata of society are as immovable as the strata of the rock-ribbed hills. no man can stir out of his place. if he is up he stays up by no virtue of his own; and if he is down, he stays down, beyond any power of man to deliver him. no gift of genius, or height of virtue, can ever raise up one of a low caste into a higher, for caste is a matter of birth. upon these sub-strata this fixity of caste rests with crushing weight. it holds them down as with the force of gravitation, as if the himalayas were rolled upon them to press them to the earth. against this oppression there is no power of resistance, no lifting up from beneath to throw it off. one would suppose that the people themselves would revolt at this servitude, that every manly instinct would rise up in rebellion against such a degradation. but so ingrained is it in the very life of the people, that they cannot cast it out any more than they can cast out a poison in their blood. indeed they seem to glory in it. the lower castes crouch and bow down that others may pass over them. a brahmin, who had become a christian, told me that the people had often asked him to wash his feet in the water of the street, that they might drink it! caste is a cold and cruel thing, which hardens the heart against natural compassion. i know it is said that high caste is only an aristocracy of birth, and that, as such, it fosters a certain nobility of feeling, and also a mutual friendliness between those who belong to the same order. a caste is only a larger family, and in it there is the same feeling, a mixture of pride and affection, which binds the family together. perhaps it may nurture to some extent a kind of clannishness, but it does this at the sacrifice of the broader and nobler sentiment of humanity. it hardens the heart into coldness and cruelty against all without one sacred pale. the brahmin feels nothing for the sufferings of the pariah, who is of another order of being as truly as if he were one of the lower animals. thus the feeling of caste extinguishes the sentiment of human brotherhood. taking all these elements together, hindooism must rank as the most despotic, the most cruel, and the vilest of all that is called religion among men. there is no other that so completely upturns moral distinctions, and makes evil good and good evil. other religions, even though false, have some sentiment that ennobles them, but hindooism, the product of a land fertile in strange births, is the lowest and basest, the most truly earth-born, of all the religions that curse mankind. and what burdens does it lay upon a poor, patient, and suffering people, in prayers, penances, and pilgrimages! the faith of hindooism is not a mild and harmless form of human credulity. it exacts a terrible service, that must be paid with sweat and blood. millions of hindoos go every year on pilgrimages. the traveller sees them thronging the roads, dragging their weary feet over the hot plains, many literally _crawling_ over the burning earth, to appease the wrath of angry gods! a religion which exacts such service is not a mere creature of the imagination--it is a tremendous reality, which makes its presence felt at every moment. it is therefore not a matter of practical indifference. it is not a mere exhibition of human folly, which, however absurd, does no harm to anybody. it is a despotism which grinds the people to powder. seeing this, how they suffer under a power from which they cannot escape, can there be a greater object of philanthropy in all the world than to emancipate them from the bondage of such ignorance and superstition? scientific men, the apostles of "modern thought," consider it not only a legitimate object, but the high "mission" of science, by unfolding the laws of nature, to disabuse our minds of idle and superstitious fears; to break up that vague terror of unseen forces, which is the chief element of superstition. if they may fight this battle in england, may we not fight the battle of truth with error and ignorance in hindostan? englishmen think it a noble thing for brave and adventurous spirits to form expeditions to penetrate the interior of africa to break up the slave trade. but here is a slavery the most terrible which ever crushed the life out of human beings. brahminism, which is fastened upon the people of india, embraces them like an anaconda, clasping and crushing them in its mighty folds. it is a devouring monster, which takes out of the very body of every hindoo, poor and naked and wretched as he may be, its pound of quivering flesh. can these things be, and we look on unmoved? can we see a whole people bound, like laocoön and his sons, in the grasp of the serpent, writhing and struggling in vain, and not come to their rescue? such is hindooism, and such is the condition to which it has reduced the people of india. do we need any other argument for christian missions? does not this simple statement furnish a perfect defence, and even an imperative demand for their establishment? christianity is the only hope of india. in saying this i do not intend any disrespect to the people of this country, to whom i feel a strong attraction. we are not apt to hear from our missionary friends much about the virtues of the heathen; but virtues they have, which it were wrong to ignore. the hindoos, like other asiatics, are a very domestic people, and have strong domestic attachments. they love their homes, humble though they be, and their children. and while they have not the active energy of western races, yet in the passive virtues--meekness, patience under injury, submission to wrong--they furnish an example to christian nations. that submissiveness, which travellers notice, and which moves some to scorn, moves me rather to pity, and i find in this patient, long-suffering race much to honor and to love. nor are they unintelligent. they have very subtle minds. thus they have many of the qualities of a great people. but their religion is their destruction. it makes them no better, it makes them worse. it does not lift them up, it drags them down. it is the one terrible and overwhelming curse, that must be removed before there is any hope for the people of india. is there not here a legitimate ground for an attempt on the part of the civilized and christian world to introduce a better faith into that mighty country which holds two hundred millions of the human race? this is not intrusion, it is simple humanity. in seeking to introduce christianity into india, we invade no right of any native of that country, mohammedan or hindoo; we would not wantonly wound their feelings, nor even shock their prejudices, in attacking their hereditary faith. but we claim that here is a case where we cannot keep silent. if we are told that we "interfere with the people," we answer, that we interfere as the good samaritan interfered with the man who fell among thieves, and was left by the roadside to die; as the physician in the hospital interferes with those dying of the cholera; as one who sees a brother at his side struck by a deadly serpent applies his mouth to the wound, to suck the poison from his blood! if that be interference, it is interference where it would be cruelty to stand aloof, for he would be less than man who could be unmoved in presence of misery so vast, which it was in any degree in his power to relieve. thus india itself is the sufficient argument for missions in india. let any one visit this country, and study its religion, and see how it enters into the very life of the people; how all social intercourse is regulated by caste; how one feels at every instant the pressure of an ancient and unchangeable religion, and ask how its iron rule is ever to be broken? who shall deliver them from the body of this death? there is in hindooism no power of self-cure. for ages it has remained the same, and will remain for ages still. help, if it come at all, must come from without, and where else can it come from, but from lands beyond the sea? therefore it is that the christian people of england and america come to the people of india, not in a tone of self-righteousness, assuming that we are better than they, but in the name of humanity, of the brotherhood of the human race. we believe that "god hath made of one blood all nations of men to dwell on the face of the earth," and these hindoos, though living on the other side of the globe, are our brothers. they are born into the same world; they belong to the same human family, and have the same immortal destiny. to such a people, capable of great things, but crushed and oppressed, we come to do them good. we would break the terrible bondage of caste, and bring forth woman out of the prison-house where she passes her lonely existence. this involves a social as well as a religious revolution. but what a sigh of relief would it bring to millions who, under their present conditions, are all their lifetime subject to bondage. there is a saying in the east that in india the flowers yield no perfume, the birds never sing, and the women never smile. of course this is an exaggeration, and yet it has a basis of truth. it is true that the flowers of the tropics, though often of brilliant hues, do not yield the rich perfume of the roses of our northern clime; and many of the birds whose golden plumage flashes sunlight in the deep gloom of tropical forests, have only a piercing shriek, instead of the soft, delicious notes of the robin and the dove; and the women have a downcast look. well may it be so. they lead a secluded and solitary life. shut up in their zenanas, away from society, they have no part in many of the joys of human existence, though they have more than their share of life's burdens and its woes. no wonder that their faces should be sad and sorrowful. thus the whole creation seems to groan and travail in pain. now we desire to dispel the darkness and the gloom of ages, and to bring smiles and music and flowers once more into this stricken world. teaching a religion of love and good will to men, we would cure the hatred of races, and bring all together in a common brotherhood. we would so lift up the poor of this world, that sorrow and sighing shall flee away, and that every lowly indian hut shall be filled with the light of a new existence. in that day will not nature share in the joy of man's deliverance? then will the birds begin to sing, as if they were let loose from the gates of heaven to go flying through the earth, and to fill our common air with the voice of melody. then shall smiles be seen once more on human faces; not the loud cackling of empty laughter; but smiles breaking through tears (the reflection of a peace that passeth understanding), shall spread like sunshine over the sad faces of the daughters of asia. but some "old indian" who has listened politely, yet smiling and incredulous, to this defence of missions, may answer, "all this is very fine; no doubt it would be a good thing if the people of india would change their religion; would cast off hindooism, and adopt christianity. but is it not practically impossible? do all the efforts of missionaries really amount to anything." this is a fair question, and i will try to give it a fair answer. "do missionaries do any good?" perhaps we can best answer the question by drawing the picture of an indian village, such as one may see at thousands of points scattered over the country. it is a cluster of huts, constructed sometimes with a light frame-work of bamboo, filled in with matting, but more commonly of mud, with a roof of thatch to prevent its being washed away in the rainy season. these huts are separated from each other by narrow lanes that can hardly be dignified with the name of streets. yet in such a hamlet of hovels, hardly fit for human habitation, may be a large population. every doorway is swarming with children. on the outskirts of the village is _the missionary bungalow_, a large one-story house, also built of mud, but neatly whitewashed and protected from the rains by a heavy thatched roof, which projects over the walls, and shades the broad veranda. in the "compound" are two other buildings of the same rude material and simple architecture, a church and a schoolhouse. in the latter are gathered every day ten, twenty, fifty--perhaps a hundred--children, with bare feet and poor garments, though clean, but with bright eyes, and who seem eager to learn. all day long comes from that low building a buzz and hum as from a hive of bees. every sunday is gathered in the little chapel a congregation chiefly of poor people, plainly but neatly dressed, and who, as they sit there, reclaimed from heathenism, seem to be "clothed and in their right minds." to the poor the gospel is preached, and never does it show its sweetness and power, as when it comes down into such abodes of poverty, and gives to these humble natives a new hope and a new life--a life of joy and peace. perhaps in the same compound is an orphanage, in which are gathered the little castaways who have been deserted by their parents, left by the roadside to die--or whose parents may have died by cholera--and who are thus rescued from death, and given the chance which belongs to every human creature of life and of happiness. perhaps the missionary is a little of a physician, and has a small chest of medicines, and the poor people come to him for cures of their bodily ailments, as well as for their spiritual troubles. after awhile he gains their confidence, and becomes, not by any appointment, but simply by the right of goodness and the force of character, a sort of unofficial magistrate, or head man of the village, a general peacemaker and benefactor. can any one estimate the influence of such a man, with his gentle wife at his side, who is also active both in teaching and in every form of charity? who does not see that such a missionary bungalow, with its school, its orphanage, and its church, and its daily influences of teaching and of example, is a centre of civilization, when planted in the heart of an indian village? how extensive is this influence will of course depend on the many or the few devoted to this work, and the wisdom and energy with which they pursue it. the number of missionaries in india is very small compared with the vast population. and yet the picture here drawn of one village is reproduced in hundreds of villages. take the representatives of all the churches and societies of protestant christendom, they would make a very respectable force. but even this does not represent the full amount of influence they exert. moral influences cannot be weighed and measured like material forces. nor are missionaries to be counted, like the soldiers of an army. they are not drawn up on parade, and do not march through the streets, with gleaming bayonets. their forces are scattered, and their work is silent and unseen. but in all quiet ways, by churches, schools, and orphanages, their influence is felt; while by the printing-press they scatter religious truth all over india, the effect of which, in tens of thousands of those whom it does not "convert," is to destroy the power of their old idolatry. that more hindoos do not openly embrace christianity is not surprising, when one considers the social influences which restrain them. when a hindoo becomes a christian, he is literally an outcast. his most intimate friends will not know him. his own family turn him from their door, feeling that he has brought upon them a disgrace far greater than if he had committed a crime for which he was to perish on the scaffold. to them he is _dead_, and they perform his funeral rites as if he were no more in this world. the pastor of the native church in bombay has thus been _buried_ or _burned_ by his own family. another told me that his own father turned from him in the street, and refused to recognize him. these things are very hard to bear. and so far from wondering that there are not more conversions among the natives of india, i wonder that there are so many. but what sort of christians are they? are they like english or american christians? when i landed in india, and saw what a strange people i was among, how unlike our own race, i asked a question which many have asked before: whether these people _could_ become christians? it is a favorite idea of many travellers--and of many english residents in india--that not only is the number of conversions small, but that the "converts" are not worth having when they are made. it is said that it is only low caste natives, who have nothing to lose, that will desert their old religion; and that they are influenced only by the lowest motives, and that while they profess to be converted, they are in no wise changed from what they were, except that to their old heathen vices they have added that of hypocrisy. hearing these things, i have taken some pains to ascertain what sort of people these native converts are. i have attended their religious services, and have met them socially, and, so far as i could judge, i have never seen more simple-minded christians. some of them are as intelligent as the best instructed members of our new england churches. as to their low caste, statistics show, among them, a greater proportion of brahmins than of any other caste, as might be expected from their greater intelligence. the work, then, has not been in vain. the advance is slow, but it is something that there _is_ an advance. i am told, as the result of a careful estimate, that if the progress continues in the future as it has for the last fifteen years, in two centuries the whole of india with its two hundred millions of people, will be converted to the christian religion. this is a spread of christianity more rapid than that in the age of the apostles, for it was three centuries before the faith which they preached became master of the roman empire. with such a record of what christian missions have done in india, with such evidences of their good influence and growing power, they are entitled to honor and respect as one of the great elements in the problem of the future of that country. to speak of them flippantly, argues but small acquaintance with the historical forces which have hitherto governed india or indeed britain itself. it ill becomes englishmen to sneer at missions, for to missionaries they owe it that their island has been reclaimed from barbarism. when augustine landed in britain their ancestors were clothed in skins, and roaming in forests. it was the new religion that softened their manners, refined their lives, and in the lapse of generations wrought out the slow process of civilization. in johnson's "tour to the hebrides," he refers to the early missionaries who civilized britain in a passage which is one of the most eloquent in english literature: "we were now treading that illustrious island which was once the luminary of the caledonian regions, whence savage clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge and the blessings of religion.... far from me and from my friends, be such frigid philosophy as may conduct us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery or virtue. that man is little to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of iona." that power which has made england so great; which has made the english race the foremost race in all this world; is now carried to another hemisphere to work the same gradual elevation in the east. it is a mighty undertaking. the lifting up of a race is like the lifting up of a continent. such changes cannot come suddenly; but in the slow lapse of ages the continent may be found to have risen, and to be covered, as it were, with a new floral vegetation; as that faith, which is the life of europe, has entered into the vast populations of asia. chapter xx. benares, the holy city. we had begun to feel ourselves at home in india. a stranger takes root quickly, as foreign plants take root in the soil, and spring up under the sun and rain of the tropics. a traveller makes acquaintances that ripen into friendship and bind him so fast that it is a real pain when he has to break away and leave these new friends behind. thus allahabad had become our indian home. the missionary community was so delightful, and everybody was so kind and hospitable, that we had come to feel as if we were only in an outlying corner of america. the missionary bungalow was like a parsonage in new england; and when we left all, and the train rolled across the long bridge over the jumna, from which we saw miss seward and miss wilson standing on their veranda, and waving us farewell, it seemed as if we were leaving home. but the holy city was before us. some seventy miles from allahabad stands a city which, to the devout hindoo, is the most sacred place on earth--one which overtops all others, as the himalayas overtop all other mountains on the globe. there are holy shrines in different countries, which are held sacred by the devotees of different religions; but there are four chief holy cities--rome, jerusalem, mecca, and benares. as the devout catholic makes a pilgrimage to rome, to receive the blessing of the holy father; as the jew traverses land and sea, that his feet may stand within the gates of jerusalem, where he weeps at the place of wailing under the walls of the ancient temple; as the caravan of the arab still crosses the desert to mecca; so does the devout hindoo come to benares, and count it his supreme joy if he can but see its domes and towers; and eternal felicity to die on the banks of the sacred river. a couple of hours brought us to the ganges, from which we had a full view of the city on the other side of the river. if the first sight did not awaken in us the same emotions as in the mind of the hindoo, the scene was picturesque enough to excite our admiration. the appearance of benares is very striking. for two miles it presents a succession of palaces and temples which are built not only on, but almost in, the river, as venice is built in the sea; the huge structures crowding each other on the bank, and flights of steps going down into the water, as if they would receive the baptism of the sacred river as it flowed gently by; as if the people listened fondly to its murmurs, and when wakened in their dreams, were soothed to hear its waters lapping the very stones of their palaces. we crossed the river on a bridge of boats, and drove out to the english quarter, which is two or three miles distant, and here rested an hour or two before we took a courier and plunged into the labyrinth of the city, in which a stranger would soon be lost who should attempt to explore it without a guide. benares would be well worth a visit if it were only for its oriental character. it is peculiarly an indian city, with every feature of asiatic and of indian life strongly marked. its bazaars are as curious and as rich as any in asia, with shawls of cashmere, and silks wrought by fine needlework into every article of costly array. it has also cunning workmen in precious metals and precious stones--in gold and silver and diamonds. one special industry is workmanship in brass. we brought away a number of large trays, curiously wrought like shields. one contains a lesson in hindoo mythology for those who are able to read it, as on it are traced all the incarnations of vishnu. while thus rambling about the city, we had an opportunity to see something of the marriage customs of the hindoos, as we met in the streets a number of wedding processions. the heavenly influences were favorable to such unions. the hindoos are great astrologers, and give high importance to the conjunction of the stars, and do not marry except when jupiter is in the ascendant. just now he rides high in the heavens, and this is the favored time of love. the processions were very curious. the bridegroom was mounted on horseback, tricked out in the dress of a harlequin, with a crowd on horses and on foot, going before and following after, waving flags, beating drums, and making all manner of noises, to testify their joy; while the bride, who was commonly a mere child, was borne in a palanquin, covered with ribbons and trinkets and jewelry, looking, as she sat upright in her doll's house, much more as if she were a piece of frosted cake being carried to the wedding, than a living piece of flesh and blood that had any part therein. altogether the scene was more like a punch-and-judy show, than any part of the serious business of life. engagements are often made when the parties are in childhood, or even in infancy; and the marriage consummated at twelve. these child-marriages are a great curse to the country, as they fill the land with their puny offspring, that wither like weeds in the hot sun of india. it is a pity that they could not be prohibited; that marriages could not be forbidden until the parties had reached at least sixteen years of age. another thing which greatly amused us was to see how the people made way for us wherever we came. the streets are very narrow, and there is not room for a jostling crowd. but their politeness stopped at no obstacle. they meant to give us a free passage. they drew to one side, making themselves very small, and even hugging the wall, to get out of our way. we accepted this delicate attention as a mark of respect, which we thought a touching proof of oriental courtesy; and with the modesty of our countrymen, regarded it as an homage to our greatness. we were a little taken aback at being informed that, on the contrary, it was to avoid pollution; that if they but touched the hem of our garments, they would have had to run to the ganges to wash away the stain! but we need not make merry with these strict observances of the people, for with them religion is the great business of life, and it is as the mecca of their faith that benares has such interest for the intelligent traveller. no city in india, perhaps none in all asia, dates back its origin to a more remote antiquity. it is the very cradle of history and of religion. here buddha preached his new faith centuries before christ was born in judea--a faith which still sways a larger part of mankind than any other, though it has lost its dominion in the place where it began. here hindooism, once driven out, still fought and conquered, and here it still has its seat, from which it rules its vast and populous empire. it is always interesting to study a country or a religion in its capital. as we go to rome to see romanism, we come to benares to see hindooism, expecting to find it in its purest form. whether that is anything to boast of, we can tell better after we have seen a little of this, its most holy city. benares is full of temples and shrines. of course we could only visit a few of the more sacred. the first that we entered was like a menagerie. it was called the monkey temple; and rightly so, for the place was full of the little creatures. it fairly swarmed with them. they were overhead and all around us, chattering as if they were holding a council in the heart of a tropical forest. the place was for all the world like the monkey-house in the zoölogical gardens in london, or in our central park in new york, and would be an amusing resort for children were it not regarded as a place for religious worship. perhaps some innocent traveller thinks this a touching proof of the charming simplicity of the hindoos, that they wish to call on all animated nature to unite in devotion, and that thus monkeys (speaking the language which monkeys understand) are permitted to join with devout hindoos in the worship of their common creator. but a glance shows the stranger that the monkeys are here, not to worship, but to be worshipped. according to the pantheism of the hindoos, all things are a part of god. not only is he the author of life, but he lives in his creatures, so that they partake of his divinity; and therefore whatsoever thing liveth and moveth on the earth--beast, or bird, or reptile--is a proper object of worship. but the monkeys were respectable compared with the hideous idol which is enthroned in this place. in the court of the temple is a shrine, a holy of holies, where, as the gilded doors are swung open, one sees a black divinity, with thick, sensual lips, that are red with blood, and eyes that glare fiendishly. this is the goddess doorgha, whose sacred presence is guarded by brahmin priests, so that no profane foot may come near her. while they kept us back with holy horror from approaching, they had no scruples about reaching out their hands to receive our money. it is the habit of strangers to drop some small coin in the outstretched palms. but i was too much disgusted to give to the beggars. they were importunate, and said the prince of wales, who was there a few days before, had given them a hundred rupees. perhaps he felt under a necessity of paying such a mark of respect to the religion of the great empire he was to rule. but ordinary travellers are under no such obligation. the rascals trade in the curiosity of strangers. it might be well if they did not find it such a source of revenue. so i would not give them a penny; though i confess to spending a few pice on nuts and "sweets" for the monkeys, who are the only ones entitled to "tribute" from visitors; and then, returning to the gharri, we rode disgusted away. in another part of the city is the golden temple, devoted to the god shiva, which divides with that of the monkeys the homage of the hindoos. here are no chattering apes, though the place is profaned with the presence of beasts and birds. some dozen cows were standing or lying down in the court, making it seem more like a stable or a barnyard than a holy place. yet here was a fakir rapt in the ecstasies of devotion, with one arm uplifted, rigid as a pillar of iron. he was looked upon with awe by the faithful who crowded around him, and who rewarded his sanctity by giving him money; but to our profane eyes he was a figure of pride (though disguised under the pretence of spirituality), as palpable to the sight as the peacock who spread his tail and strutted about in the filthy enclosure. but perhaps the reader will think that we have had enough of this, and will gladly turn to a less revolting form of superstition. the great sight of benares is the bathing in the ganges. this takes place in the morning. we rose early the next day, and drove down to the river, and getting a boat, were rowed slowly for hours up and down the stream. it is lined with temples and palaces, which descend to the water by flights of steps, or _ghauts_, which at this hour are thronged with devout hindoos. by hundreds and thousands they come down to the river's brink, men, women, and children, and wade in, not swimming, but standing in the water, plunging their heads and mumbling their prayers, and performing their libations, by taking the water in their hands, and casting it towards the points of the compass, as an act of worship to the celestial powers, especially to the sun. as the boatmen rested on their oars, that we might observe the strange scene, c---- started with horror to see a corpse in the water. it was already half decayed, and obscene birds were fluttering over it. but this is too common a sight in benares to raise any emotion in the breast of the hindoo, whose prayer is that he may die on the banks of the ganges. does his body drift down with the stream, or become food for the fowls of the air, his soul floats to its final rest in the deity, as surely as the ganges rolls onward to the sea. but look! here is another scene. we are approaching the burning ghaut, and i see piles of wood, and human bodies, and smoke and flame. i bade the boatmen draw to the shore, that we might have a clearer view of this strange sight. walking along the bank, we came close to the funeral piles. several were waiting to be lighted. when all is ready, the nearest male relative walks round and round the pile, and then applies to it a lighted withe of straw. here was a body just dressed for the last rites. it was wrapped in coarse garments, perhaps all that affection could give. beside it stood a woman, watching it with eager eyes, lest any rude hand should touch the form which, though dead, was still beloved. i looked with pity into her sad, sorrowful face. what a tale of affection was there!--of love for the life that was ended, and the form that was cherished, that was soon to be but ashes, and to float away upon the bosom of the sacred river. another pile was already lighted, and burning fiercely. i stood close to it, till driven away by the heat and smoke. as the flames closed round the form, portions of the body were exposed. now the hair was consumed in a flash, leaving the bare skull; now the feet showed from the other end of the pile. it was a ghastly sight. now a horrid smell filled the air, and still the pile glowed like a furnace, crackling with the intense heat, and shot out tongues of flame that seemed eager to lick up every drop of blood. in this disposal of the dead there is nothing to soothe the mourner like a christian burial, when the body is committed to the earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, when a beloved form is laid down under the green turf gently, as on a mother's breast. the spectacle of this morning, with the similar one at allahabad, have set me a-thinking. i ask, what idea do the hindoos attach to bathing in the ganges? is it purification or expiation, or both? is it the putting away of sin by the washing of water; the cleansing of the body for the sins of the soul? or is there in it some idea of atonement? what is the fascination of this religious observance? perhaps no stranger can fully understand it, or enter into the feeling with which the devout hindoo regards the sacred river. the problem grows the more we study it. however we approach the great river of india, we find a wealth of associations gathering around it such as belongs to no other river on the face of the earth. no other is so intimately connected with the history and the whole life of a people. other rivers have poetical or patriotic associations. the ancient romans kept watch on the tiber, as the modern germans keep watch on the rhine. but these are associations of country and of patriotic pride--not of life, not of existence, not of religion. in these respects the only river in the world which approaches the ganges is the nile, which, coming down from the highlands of central africa, floods the long valley, which it has itself made in the desert, turning the very sands into fertility, and thus becoming the creator and life-giver of egypt. what the nile is to egypt, the ganges is to a part of india, giving life and verdure to plains that but for it were a desert. as it bursts through the gates of the himalayas, and sweeps along with resistless current, cooling with its icy breath the hot plains of india, and giving fertility to the rice fields of bengal, it may well seem to the hindoo the greatest visible emblem of almighty power and infinite beneficence. but it is more than an emblem. the ancient egyptians worshipped the nile as a god, and in this they had the same feeling which now exists among the hindoos in regard to the ganges. it is not only a sacred river because of its associations; it is itself divine, flowing, like the river of life in the book of revelation, out of the throne of god. it descends out of heaven, rising in mountains whose tops touch the clouds--the sacred mountains which form the hindoo kylas, or heaven, the abode of the hindoo trinity--of brahma and shiva and vishnu. rushing from under a glacier in the region of everlasting snow, it seems as if it gushed from the very heart of the dweller on that holy mount; as if that flowing stream were the life-blood of the creator. when the hindoo has seized this idea, it takes strong hold of his imagination. as he stands on the banks of the ganges at night, and sees its broad current quivering under the rays of the full moon, it seems indeed as if it were the clear stream flowing through the calm breast of god himself, bearing life from him to give life to the world. hence in his creed it has all the virtue and the "divine power that belongs in the christian system to the blood of christ. it makes atonement for sins that are past." "he that but looks on the ganges," says the hindoo proverb, "or that drinks of it, washes away the stains of a hundred births; but he that bathes in it washes away the stains of a thousand births." this is a virtue beyond that of the nile, or the rivers of damascus, or of the jordan, or even of siloa's brook that flowed fast by the oracle of god. it is a virtue which can be found alone in that blood which "cleanseth from all sin." the spectacle of such superstition produced a strong revulsion of feeling, and made me turn away from these waters that cannot cleanse the guilty soul, nor save the dying, to the mighty sufferer, whose blood was shed for the sins of the world, and i seemed to hear voices in far-off christian lands singing: e'er since by faith i saw the stream thy flowing wounds supply, redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till i die. but i do not sit in judgment on the hindoos, nor include a whole people in one general condemnation. some of them are as noble specimens of humanity, with as much "natural goodness" as can be found anywhere; and are even religious in their way, and in zeal and devotion an example to their christian neighbors. of this, a very striking instance can be given here. on the other side of the ganges lives a grand old hindoo, the maharajah of benares, and as he is famed for his hospitality to strangers, we sent him a letter by a messenger (being assured that that was the proper thing to do), saying that we should be happy to pay our respects to my lord in his castle; and in a few hours received a reply that his carriage should be sent to our hotel for us the next morning, and that his boat would convey us across the river. we did not wait for the carriage, as we were in haste to depart for calcutta the same forenoon, but rode down in our own gharri to the river side, where we found the boat awaiting us. on the other bank stood a couple of elephants of extraordinary size, that knelt down and took us on their broad backs, and rolled off at a swinging pace to a pleasant retreat of the maharajah a mile or two from the river, where he had a temple of his own, situated in the midst of beautiful gardens. on our return we were marched into the courtyard of the castle, where the attendants received us, and escorted us within. the maharajah did not make his appearance, as it was still early, but his secretary presented himself to do the honors, giving his master's respects with his photograph, and showing us every possible courtesy. we were shown through the rooms of state, where the prince of wales had been received a few weeks before. the view from the terrace on the river side is enchanting. it is directly on the water, and commands a view up and down the ganges for miles, while across the smooth expanse rise the temples and palaces of the holy city. what a place for a brahmin to live or to die! this maharajah of benares is well known all over india. he is a member of the viceroy's council at calcutta, and held in universal respect by the english community. sir william muir, who is one of the most pronounced christian men in india, whom some would even call a puritan for his strictness, told me that the maharajah was one of the best of men. and yet he is of the straitest sect of the hindoos, who bathes in the ganges every morning, and "does his pooja." in all religious observances he is most exemplary, often spending hours in prayer. the secretary, in excusing his master's absence, said that he had been up nearly all night engaged in his devotions. how this earnest faith in a religion so vile can consist with a life so pure and so good, is one of the mysteries of this asiatic world which i leave to those wiser than i am to explain. we had lingered so long that it was near the hour of our departure for calcutta, and we were three miles up the river. the secretary accompanied us to the boat of the maharajah, which was waiting for us, and bade us farewell, with many kind wishes that we might have a prosperous journey. lying against the bank was the gilded barge in which the maharajah had received and escorted the prince of wales. waving our adieu, we gave the signal, and the boatmen pushed off into the stream. it was now a race against time. we had a long stretch to make in a very few minutes. i offered the men a reward if they should reach the place in time. the stalwart rowers bent to their oars, their swarthy limbs making swift strokes, and the boat shot like an arrow down the stream. i stood up in the eagerness and excitement of the chase, taking a last look at the sacred temples as we shot swiftly by. it wanted but two or three minutes of the hour as our little pinnace struck against the goal by the bridge of boats, and throwing the rupees to the boatmen, we hurried up the bank, and had just time to get fairly bestowed in the roomy first-class carriage, which we had all to ourselves, when the train started for calcutta, and the towers and domes and minarets of the holy city of india faded from our sight. thinking! still thinking! what does it all mean? who can understand hindooism--where it begins and where it ends? it is like the fabled tree that had its roots down in the kingdom of death, and spread its branches over the world. behind it, or beneath it, is a deep philosophy, which goes down to the very beginnings of existence, and touches the most vital problems of life and death, of endless dying and living. out of millions of ages, after a million births, following each other in long succession, at last man is cast upon the earth, but only as a bird of passage, darting swiftly through life, and then, in an endless transmigration of souls, passing through other stages of being, till he is absorbed in the eternal all. thus does man find his way at last back to god, as the drop of water, caught up by the sun, lifted into the cloud, descends in the rain, trickles in streams down the mountain side, and finds its way back to the ocean. so does the human soul complete the endless cycle of existence, coming from god and returning to god, to be swallowed up and lost in that boundless sea. much might be said, by way of argument, in support of this pantheistic philosophy. but whatever may be urged in favor of hindooism in the abstract, its practical results are terrible. by a logic as close and irresistible as it is fatal, it takes away the foundation of all morality, and strikes down all goodness and virtue--all that is the glory of man, and all that is the beauty of woman. it is nothing to the purpose to quote the example of such a man as the maharajah of benares, for there is a strange alchemy in virtue, by which a pure nature, a high intelligence, and right moral instincts, will convert even the most pernicious doctrines to the purpose of a spiritual life. but with the mass of hindoos it is only a system of abject superstition and terror. as we rolled along the banks of the ganges, i thought what tales that stream could tell. could we but listen in the dead of night, what sounds we might hear! hush! hark! there is a footstep on the shore. the rushes on the bank are parted, and a hindoo mother comes to the water's edge. look! she holds a child in her arms. she starts back, and with a shriek casts it to the river monsters. such scenes are not frequent now, because the government has repressed them by law, though infanticide is fearfully common in other ways. but even yet in secret--"darkly at dead of night"--does fanaticism sometimes pay its offering to the river which is worshipped as a god. this is what hindooism does for the mother and for her child. thus it wrongs at once childhood and motherhood and womanhood. who that thinks of such scenes can but pray that a better faith may be given to the women of india, that the mother may no longer look with anguish into the face of her own child, as one doomed to destruction, but like any christian mother, clasp her baby to her breast, thanking god who has given it to her, and bidden her keep it, and train it up for life, for virtue and for happiness. but is there any hope of seeing hindooism destroyed? i fear not very soon. when i think how many ages it has stood, and what mighty forces it has resisted, the task seems almost hopeless. for centuries it fought with buddhism for the conquest of india, and remained master of the field. then came mohammedanism in the days of the mogul empire. it gained a foothold, and reared its mosques even in the holy city of the hindoos. to this day the most splendid structure in benares is the great mosque of aurungzebe. as i climbed its tall minaret, and looked over the city, i saw here and there the gilded domes and slender spires that mark the temples of islam. but these fierce iconoclasts, who set out from arabia to break the idols in pieces, could not destroy them here. the fanatical aurungzebe could build his mosque, with its minaret so lofty as to overtop all the temples of paganism; but he could not convert the idolaters. with such tenacity did they cling to their faith, that even the religion of the prophet could make little impression, though armed with all the power of the sword. and now come modern civilization and christianity. the work of "tearing down" is not left to missions alone. there is in india a vast system of national education. in benares there is an university whose stately halls would not look out of place among the piles of oxford. in the teaching there is a rigid--i had almost said a religious--abstinence from religion. but science is taught, and science confutes the hindoo cosmogony. when it is written in the purânas that the world rests on the back of an elephant, and that the elephant stands on the back of a tortoise, and the tortoise on the back of the great serpent nâga, it needs but a very little learning to convince the young hindoo that his sacred books are a mass of fables. but this does not make him a christian. it lands him in infidelity, and leaves him there. and this is the state of the educated mind of india, of what is sometimes designated as young india, or young bengal. here they stand--deep in the mire of unbelief, as if they had tried to plant their feet on the low-lying delta of the ganges, and found it sink beneath them, with danger of being buried in gangetic ooze and slime. but even this is better than calling to gods that cannot help them; for at least it may give them a sense of their weakness and danger. it may be that the educated mind of india has to go through this stage of infidelity before it can come into the light of a clearer faith. at present they believe nothing, yet conform to hindoo customs for social reasons, for fear of losing caste. this is all-powerful. it is hard for men to break away from it in detail. but once that a breach is made in their ranks, the same social tyranny may carry them over _en masse_, so that a nation shall be born in a day. at present the work that is going on is that of sapping and mining, of boring holes into the foundation of hindooism; and this is done as industriously, and perhaps as effectively, by government schools and colleges as by missions. at benares we observed, in sailing up and down the ganges, that the river had undermined a number of temples built upon its banks, and that they had fallen with their huge columns and massive architecture, and were lying in broken and shapeless masses, half covered by the water. what a spectacle of ruin and decay in the holy city of the hindoos! this is a fit illustration of the process which has been going on for the last half century in regard to hindooism. the waters are washing it away, and by and by the whole colossal fabric, built up in ages of ignorance and superstition, will come crashing to the earth. hindooism will fall, and great will be the fall of it. chapter xxi. calcutta-farewell to india. it is a good rule in travelling, as in rhetoric, to keep the best to the last, and wind up with a climax. but it would be hard to find a climax in india after seeing the old mogul capitals, whose palaces and tombs outshine the alhambra; after climbing the himalayas, and making a pilgrimage to the holy city. and yet one feels a _crescendo_ of interest in approaching the capital. india has three capitals--delhi, where once reigned the great mogul, and which is still the centre of the mohammedan faith; benares, the mecca of the hindoos; and calcutta, the capital of the modern british empire. the two former we have seen; it is the last which is now before us. our route was southeast, along the valley of the ganges, and through the province of bengal. what is the magic of a name? from childhood the most vivid association i had with this part of india, was that of bengal tigers, which were the wonder of every menagerie; and it was not strange if we almost expected to see them crouching in the forest, or gliding away in the long grass of the jungle. but bengal has other attractions to one who rides over it. this single province of india is five times as large as the state of new york. it is a vast alluvial plain, through which the ganges pours by a hundred mouths to the sea, its overflow giving to the soil a richness and fertility like that of the valley of the nile, so that it supports a population equal to that of the whole of the united states. the cultivated fields that we pass show the natural wealth of the country, as the frequent towns show the density of the population. of these the largest is patna, the centre of the opium culture. but we did not stop anywhere, for the way was long. from benares to calcutta is over four hundred miles, or about as far as from new york city to niagara falls. we started at eleven o'clock, and kept steadily travelling all day. night fell, and the moon rose over the plains and the palm groves, and still we fled on and on, as if pursued by the storm spirits of the hindoo kylas, till the morning broke, and found us on the banks of a great river filled with shipping, and opposite to a great city. this was the hoogly, one of the mouths of the ganges, and there was calcutta! a carriage whirled us swiftly across the bridge, and up to the great eastern hotel, where we were glad to rest, after travelling three thousand miles in india, and to exchange even the most luxurious railway carriage for beds and baths, and the comforts of civilization. the hotel stands opposite the government house, the residence of the viceroy of india, and supplies everything necessary to the dignity of a "burra sahib." soft-footed hindoos glided silently about, watching our every motion, and profoundly anxious for the honor of being our servants. a stalwart native slept on the mat before my door, and attended on my going out and my coming in, as if i had been a grand dignitary of the empire. calcutta bears a proud name in the east--that of the city of palaces--from which a traveller is apt to experience a feeling of disappointment. and yet the english portion of the city is sufficiently grand to make it worthy to rank with the second class of european capitals. the government house, from its very size, has a massive and stately appearance, and the other public buildings are of corresponding proportions. the principal street, called the chowringhee road, is lined for two miles with the handsome houses of government officials or wealthy english residents. but the beauty of calcutta is the grand esplanade, called the maidan--an open space as large as our central park in new york; beginning at the government house, and reaching to fort william, and beyond it; stretching for two or three miles along the river, and a mile back from it to the mansions of the chowringhee road. this is an immense parade-ground for military and other displays. here and there are statues of men who have distinguished themselves in the history of british india. tropical plants and trees give to the landscape their rich masses of color and of shade, while under them and around them is spread that carpet of green so dear to the eyes of an englishman in any part of the world--a wide sweep of soft and smooth english turf. here at sunset one may witness a scene nowhere equalled except in the great capitals of europe. in the middle of the day the place is deserted, except by natives, whom, being "children of the sun," he does not "smite by day," though the moon may smite them by night. the english residents are shut closely within doors, where they seek, by the waving of punkas, and by admitting the air only through mats dripping with water, to mitigate the terrible heat. but as the sun declines, and the palms begin to cast their shadows across the plain, and a cool breeze comes in from the sea, the whole english world pours forth. the carriage of the viceroy rolls out from under the arches of the government house, and the other officials are abroad. a stranger is surprised at the number of dashing equipages, with postilions and servants in liveries, furnished by this foreign city. these are not all english. native princes and wealthy baboos vie with englishmen in the bravery of their equipages, and give to the scene a touch of oriental splendor. officers on horseback dash by, accompanied often by fair english faces; while the band from fort william plays the martial airs of england. it is indeed a brilliant spectacle, which, but for the turbans and the swarthy faces under them, would make the traveller imagine himself in hyde park. from this single picture it is easy to see why calcutta is to an englishman the most attractive place of residence in india, or in all the east. it is more like london. it is a great capital--the capital of the indian empire; the seat of government; the residence of the viceroy, around whom is assembled a kind of viceregal court, composed of all the high officials, both civil and military. there is an army and navy club, where one may meet many old soldiers who have seen service in the indian wars, or who hold high appointments in the present force. the assemblage of such a number of notable men makes a large and brilliant english society. nor is it confined to army officers or government officials. connected with the different colleges are men who are distinguished oriental scholars. then there is a bishop of calcutta, who is the primate of india, with his clergy, and english and american missionaries, who make altogether a very miscellaneous society.[ ] here macaulay lived for three years as a member of the governor's council, and was the centre of a society which, if it lacked other attractions, must have found a constant stimulus in his marvellous conversation. and yet with all these attractions of calcutta, english residents still pine for england. one can hardly converse with an english officer, without finding that it is his dream to get through with his term of service as soon as he may, and return to spend the rest of his days in his dear native island. even macaulay--with all the resources that he had in himself, with all that he found anglo-indian society, and all that he made it--regarded life in india as only a splendid exile. the climate is a terrible drawback. think of a country, where in the hot season the mercury rises to - ° in the shade; while if the thermometer be exposed to the sun, it quickly mounts to , , or even °!--a heat to which no european can be exposed for half an hour without danger of sunstroke. such is the heat that it drives the government out of calcutta for half the year. for six months the viceroy and his staff emigrate, bag and baggage, going up the country twelve hundred miles to simla, on the first range of the himalayas, which is about as if the president of the united states and his cabinet should leave washington on the first of may, and transfer the seat of government to some high point in the rocky mountains. but the climate is not the only, nor the chief, drawback to life in india. it is the absence from home, from one's country and people, which makes it seem indeed like exile. make the best of it, calcutta is not london. what a man like macaulay misses, is not the english climate, with its rains and fogs, but the intellectual life, which centres in the british capital. it was this which made him write to his sister that "a lodgings up three pairs of stairs in london was better than a palace in a compound at chowringhee." i confess i cannot understand how any man, who has a respectable position in his own country, should choose calcutta, or any other part of india, as a place of residence, except for a time; as a merchant goes abroad for a few years, in the hope of such gain as shall enable him to return and live in independence in england or america; or as a soldier goes to a post of duty ("not his to ask the reason why"); or as a missionary, with the purely benevolent desire of doing good, for which he accepts this voluntary exile. but if a man has grown, by any mental or moral process, to the idea that life is not given him merely for enjoyment; that its chief end is not to make himself comfortable--to sit at home in england, and hear the storm roar around the british islands, and thank god that he is safe, though all the rest of the world should perish; if he but once recognize the fact that he has duties, not only to himself, but to mankind; then for such a man there is not on the round globe a broader or nobler field of labor than india. for an english statesman, however great his talents or boundless his ambition, one cannot conceive of a higher place on the earth than that of the viceroy of india. he is a ruler over more than two hundred millions of human beings, to whose welfare he may contribute by a wise and just administration. what immeasurable good may be wrought by a governor-general like lord william bentinck, of whom it was said that "he was william penn on the throne of the great mogul." a share in this beneficent rule belongs to every englishman who holds a place in the government of india. he is in a position of power, and therefore of responsibility. to such men is entrusted the protection, the safety, the comfort, and the happiness of multitudes of their fellow-men, to whom they are bound, if not by national ties, yet by the ties of a common humanity. and for those who have no official position, who have neither place nor power, but who have intelligence and a desire to do good on a wide scale, india offers a field as broad as their ambition, where, either as moral or intellectual instructors, as professors of science or teachers of religion, they may contribute to the welfare of a great people. india is a country where, more than in almost any other in the world, european civilization comes in contact with asiatic barbarism. its geographical position illustrates its moral and intellectual position. it is a peninsula stretched out from the lower part of asia into the indian ocean, and great seas dash against it on one side and on the other. so, intellectually and morally, is it placed "where two seas meet," where modern science attacks hindooism on one side, and christianity attacks it on the other. in this conflict english intelligence has already done much for the intellectual emancipation of the people from childish ignorance and folly. in calcutta there are a number of english schools and colleges, which are thronged with young bengalees, the flower of the city and the province, who are instructed in the principles of modern science and philosophy. the effect on the mind of young bengal has been very great. an english education has accomplished all that was expected from it, _except_ the overthrow of idolatry, and here it has conspicuously failed. when macaulay was in india, he devoted much of his time to perfecting the system of national education, from which he expected the greatest results; which he believed would not only fill the ignorant and vacant minds of the hindoos with the knowledge of modern science, but would uproot the old idolatry. in the recently published volumes of his letters is one to his father, dated calcutta, oct. , , in which he says: "our english schools are flourishing wonderfully. we find it difficult--in some places impossible--to provide instruction for all who want it. at the single town of hoogly boys are learning english. the effect of this education on the hindoos is prodigious. no hindoo who has received an english education ever remains sincerely attached to his religion. some continue to profess it as a matter of policy; but many profess themselves pure deists, and some embrace christianity. it is my firm belief that, if our plans of education are followed up, there will not be a single idolater among the reputable classes in bengal thirty years hence. and this will be effected without any efforts to proselytize; without the smallest interference with religious liberty; merely by the natural operation of knowledge and reflection." these sanguine expectations have been utterly disappointed. since that letter was written, forty years have passed, and every year has turned out great numbers of educated young men, instructed in all the principles of modern science; and yet the hold of hindooism seems as strong as ever. i find it here in the capital, as well as in the provinces, and i do not find that it is any better by coming in contact with modern civilization. nothing at benares was more repulsive and disgusting than what one sees here. the deity most worshipped in calcutta is the goddess kali, who indeed gives name to the city, which is anglicized from kali-ghat. she delights in blood, and is propitiated only by constant sacrifices. as one takes his morning drive along the streets leading to her shrine, he sees them filled with young goats, who are driven to the sacred enclosure, which is like a butcher's shambles, so constantly are the heads dropping on the pavement, which is kept wet with blood. she is the patron of thieves and robbers, the one to whom the thugs always made offerings, in setting out on their expeditions for murder. no doubt the young men educated in the english colleges despise this horrid worship. yet in their indifference to all religion, they think it better to keep up an outward show of conformity, to retain the respect, or at least the good will, of their hindoo countrymen, among whom it is the very first condition of any social recognition whatever, that they shall not break away from the religion of their ancestors. how then are they to be reached? the christian schools educate the very young; and the orphanages take neglected children and train them from the beginning. but for young men who are already educated in the government colleges, is there any way of reaching _them_? none, except that of open, direct, manly argument. several years since president seelye of amherst college visited india, and here addressed the educated hindoos, both in calcutta and bombay, on the claims of the christian religion. he was received with perfect courtesy. large audiences assembled to hear him, and listened with the utmost respect. what impression he produced, i cannot say; but it seems to me that this is "the way to do it," or at least one way, and a way which gives good hope of success. in fighting this battle against idolatry, i think we should welcome aid from any quarter, whether it be evangelical or not. while in calcutta, i paid a visit to keshoob chunder sen, whose name is well known in england from a visit which he made some years ago, as the leader of the brahmo somaj. i found him surrounded by his pupils, to whom he was giving instruction. he at once interrupted his teaching for the pleasure of a conversation, to which all listened apparently with great interest. he is in his creed an unitarian, so far as he adopts the christian faith. he recognizes the unity of god, and gives supreme importance to _prayer_. the interview impressed me both with his ability and his sincerity. i cannot agree with some of my missionary friends who look upon him with suspicion, because he does not go far enough. on the contrary, i think it a matter of congratulation that he has come as far as he has, and i should be glad if he could get young bengal to follow him. but i do not think the brahmo somaj has made great progress. it has scattered adherents in different parts of india, but the whole number of followers is small compared with the masses that cling to their idols. he frankly confessed that the struggle was very unequal, that the power of the old idolatry was tremendous, and especially that the despotism of caste was terrific. to break away from it, required a degree of moral courage that was very rare. the great obstacle to its overthrow was a social one, and grew out of the extreme anxiety of hindoo parents for the marriage of their children. if they once broke away from caste, it was all over with them. they were literally outcasts. nobody would speak to them, and they and their children were delivered over to one common curse. this social ostracism impending over them, is a terror which even educated hindoos dare not face. and so they conform outwardly, while they despise inwardly. hence, keshoob chunder sen deserves all honor for the stand he has taken, and ought to receive the cordial support of the english and christian community. what i have seen in calcutta and elsewhere satisfies me that in all wise plans for the regeneration of india, christian missions must be a necessary part. one cannot remember but with a feeling of shame, how slow was england to receive missionaries into her indian empire. the first attempt of the english church to send a few men to india was met with an outcry of disapprobation. sydney smith hoped the government would send the missionaries home. when carey first landed on these shores, he could not stay in british territory, but had to take refuge at serampore, a danish settlement a few miles from calcutta, where he wrought a work which makes that a place of pilgrimage to every christian traveller in india. we spent a day there, going over the field of his labor. he is dead, but his work survives. there he opened schools and founded a college, the first of its kind in india (unless it were the government college of fort william in calcutta, in which he was also a professor), and which led the way for the establishment of that magnificent system of national education which is now the glory of india. what carey was in his day, dr. duff in calcutta and dr. wilson in bombay were a generation later, vigorous advocates of education as an indispensable means to quicken the torpid mind of india. they were the trusted advisers and counsellors of the government in organizing the present system of national education. this is but one of many benefits for which this country has to thank missionaries. and if ever india is to be so renovated as to enter into the family of civilized and christian nations, it will be largely by their labors. one thing is certain, that mere education will not convert the hindoo. the experiment has been tried and failed. some other and more powerful means must be taken to quicken the conscience of a nation deadened by ages of false religion--a religion utterly fatal to spiritual life. that such a change may come speedily, is devoutly to be wished. no intelligent traveller can visit india, and spend here two months, without feeling the deepest interest in the country and its people. our interest grew with every week of our stay, and was strongest as we were about to leave. the last night that we were in calcutta, it was my privilege to address the students at one of the scotch colleges. the hall was crowded, and i have seldom, if ever, spoken to a finer body of young men. these young bengalees had many of them heads of an almost classical beauty; and with their grace of person heightened by their flowing white robes, they presented a beautiful array of young scholars, such as might delight the eyes of any instructor who should have to teach them "divine philosophy." my heart "went out" to them very warmly, and as that was my last impression of india, i left it with a very different feeling from that with which i entered it--with a degree of respect for its people, and of interest in them, which i humbly conceive is the very first condition of doing them any good. it was sunday evening: the ship on which we were to embark for burmah was to sail at daybreak, and it was necessary to go on board at once. so hardly had we returned from our evening service, before we drove down to the river. the steamer lay off in the stream, the tide was out, and even the native boats could not come up to where we could step on board. but the inevitable coolies were there, their long naked legs sinking in the mud, who took us on their brawny backs, and carried us to the boats, and in this dignified manner we took our departure from india. the next morning, as we went on deck, the steamer was dropping down the river. the guns of fort william were firing a salute; at garden reach we passed the palace of the king of oude, where this deposed indian sovereign still keeps his royal state among his serpents and his tigers. we were all day long steaming down the hoogly. the country is very flat; there is nothing to break the monotony of its swamps and jungles, its villages of mud standing amid rice fields and palm groves. as we approach the sea the river divides into many channels, like the lagoons of venice. all around are low lying islands, which now and then are swept by terrible cyclones that come up from the bay of bengal. at present their shores are overgrown with jungles, the home of wild beasts, of serpents, and crocodiles, of all slimy and deadly things, the monsters of the land and sea. through a net-work of such lagoons, we glide out into the deep; slowly the receding shores sink till they are submerged, as if they were drowned; we have left india behind, and all around is only a watery horizon. footnote: [ ] there are not many americans in calcutta, and as they are few, we are the more concerned that they should be respectable, and not dishonor our national character. sometimes i am told we have had representatives of whom we had no reason to be proud. we are now most fortunate in our consul, general litchfield, a gentleman of excellent character, who is very obliging to his countrymen, and commands in a high degree the respect of the english community. there is here also an american pastor, dr. thorburn, who is very popular, and whose people are building him a new church while he is absent on a visit to his own country; and what attracts a stranger still more, an excellent family of american ladies, engaged in the zenana mission, which is designed to reach hindoo women, who, as they live in strict seclusion, can never hear of christianity except through those of their own sex. this hospitable "home" was made ours for a part of the time that we were in calcutta, for which, and for all the kindness of these excellent ladies, we hold it in grateful remembrance. chapter xxii. burmah, or farther india. in america we speak of the far west, which is an undefined region, constantly receding in the distance. so in asia there is a far and farther east, ever coming a little nearer to the rising sun. when we have done with india, there is still a farther india to be "seen and conquered." on the other side of the bay of bengal is a country, which, though called india, and under the east indian government, is not india. the very face of nature is different. it is a country not of vast plains, but of mountains and valleys, and springs that run among the hills; a country with another people than india, another language, and another religion. looking upon the map of asia, one sees at its southeastern extremity a long peninsula, reaching almost to the equator, with a central range of mountains, an alpine chain, which runs through its whole length, as the apennines run through italy. this is the malayan peninsula, on one side of which is burmah, and on the other, siam, the land of the white elephant. such was the "undiscovered country" before us, as we went on deck of the good ship malda, four days out from calcutta, and found her entering the mouth of a river which once bore the proud name of the river of gold, and was said to flow through a land of gold. these fabled riches have disappeared, but the majestic river still flows on, broad-bosomed like the nile, and which of itself might make the riches of a country, as the nile makes the riches of egypt. this is the mighty irrawaddy, one of the great rivers of eastern asia; which takes its rise in the western part of thibet, not far from the head waters of the indus, and runs along the northern slopes of the himalayas, till it turns south, and winding its way through the passes of the lofty mountains, debouches into lower burmah, where it divides into two large branches like the nile, making a delta of ten thousand square miles--larger than the delta of egypt--whose inexhaustible fertility, yielding enormous rice harvests, has more than once relieved a famine in bengal. on the irrawaddy, twenty-five miles from the sea, stands rangoon, the capital of british burmah, a city of nearly a hundred thousand inhabitants. as we approach it, the most conspicuous object is the great pagoda, the largest in the world, which is a signal that we are not only in a new country, but one that has a new religion--not brahmin, but buddhist--whose towering pagodas, with their gilded roofs, take the place of hindoo temples and mohammedan mosques. rangoon boasts a great antiquity; it is said to have been founded in the sixth century before christ, but its new masters, the english, with their spirit of improvement, have given it quite a modern appearance. large steamers in the river and warehouses along its bank, show that the spirit of modern enterprise has invaded even this distant part of asia. burmah is a country with a history, dating back far into the past. it was once the seat of a great empire, with a population many fold larger than now. in the interior are to be found ruins like those in the interior of cambodia, which mark the sites of ancient cities, and attest the greatness of an empire that has long since passed away. this is a subject for the antiquarian; but i am more interested in its present condition and its future prospects than its past history. burmah is now a part of the great english empire in the east, and it has been the scene of events which make a very thrilling chapter in the history of american missions. remembering this, as soon as we got on shore we took a gharri, and rode off to find the american missionaries, of whom and of their work i shall have more to say. we brought a letter also to the chief commissioner, mr. rivers thompson, who invited us to be his guests while in rangoon. this gentleman is a representative of the best class of english officials in the east, of those conscientious and laborious men, trained in the civil service in india, whose intelligence and experience make the english rule such a blessing to that country. the presence of a man of such character and such intelligence in a position of such power--for he is virtually the ruler of burmah--is the greatest benefit to the country. we shall long remember him and his excellent wife--a true englishwoman--for their courtesy and hospitality, which made our visit to rangoon so pleasant. the government house is out of the city, surrounded partly by the natural forest, which was alive with monkeys, that were perched in the trees, and leaping from branch to branch. one species of them had a very wild and plaintive cry, almost like that of a human creature in distress. it is said to be the only animal whose notes range through the whole scale. it begins low, and rises rapidly, till it reaches a pitch at which it sounds like a far-off wail of sorrow. every morning we were awakened by the singing of birds, the first sound in the forest, with which there came through the open windows a cool, delicious air, laden with a dewy freshness as of spring, the exquisite sensation of a morning in the tropics. then came the tramp of soldiers along the walk, changing guard. in the midst of these strange surroundings stood the beautiful english home, with all its culture and refinement, and the morning and evening prayers, that were a sweeter incense to the author of so much beauty than "the spicy breezes that blow soft o'er ceylon's isle." the evening drive to the public gardens, where a band of music was playing, gave one a sight of the english residents of rangoon, and made even an american feel, in hearing his familiar tongue, that he was not altogether a stranger in a strange land. the commissioner gave me his report on british burmah, made to the government of india. it fills a large octavo volume, and in reading it, one is surprised to learn the extent of the country, which is twice as large as the state of new york, and its great natural wealth in its soil and its forests--the resources for supporting a dense population. i found the best book on burmah was by an american missionary, dr. mason, who, while devoted to his religious work, had the tastes of a naturalist, and wrote of the country with the enthusiasm of a poet and a man of science.[ ] he describes the interior as of marvellous beauty, with rugged mountains, separated by soft green valleys, in which sometimes little lakes, like the scottish lochs, sleep under the shadow of the hills; and rivers whose banks are like the banks of the rhine. he says: "british burmah embraces all variety of aspect, from the flats of holland, at the mouths of the irrawaddy, to the more than scottish beauty of the mountainous valley of the salwen, and the rhenish river banks of the irrawaddy near prome." with the zest of an alpine tourist, he climbs the wild passes of the hills, and follows the streams coursing down their sides, to where they leap in waterfalls over precipices fifty or one hundred feet high. amid this picturesque scenery he finds a fauna and flora, more varied and rich than those of any part of europe. the country produces a great variety of tropical fruits; it yields spices and gums; while the natives make use for many purposes of the bamboo and the palm. the wild beasts are hunted for their skins, and the elephants furnish ivory. but the staples of commerce are two--rice and the teak wood. rice is the universal food of burmah, as it is of india and of china. and for timber, the teak is invaluable, as it is the only wood that can resist the attacks of the white ants. it is a red wood, like our cedar, and when wrought with any degree of taste and skill, produces a pretty effect. the better class of houses are built of this, and being raised on upright posts, with an open story beneath, and a broad veranda above, they look more like swiss chalets than like the common eastern bungalows. the dwellings of the poorer people are mere huts, like irish shanties or indian wigwams. they are constructed only with a frame of bamboo, with mats hung between. you could put up one as easily as you would pitch a tent. drive four bamboo poles in the ground, put cross pieces and hang mats of bark, and you have a burmese house. to be sure it is a slender habitation--"reeds shaken with the wind;" but it serves to cover the poor occupants, and if an earthquake shakes it down, little harm is done. it costs nothing for house-rent; rice is cheap, and the natives are expert boatmen, and get a part of their living from the rivers and the sea. their wants are few and easily supplied. "there is perhaps no country in the world," says mason, "where there are so few beggars, so little suffering, and so much actual independence in the lower strata of society." thus provided for by nature, they live an easy life. existence is not a constant struggle. the earth brings forth plentifully for their humble wants. they do not borrow trouble, and are not weighed down with anxiety. hence the burmese are very light-hearted and gay. in this they present a marked contrast to some of the asiatics. they have more of the mongolian cast of countenance than of the hindoo, and yet they are not so grave as the hindoos on the one hand, or as the chinese on the other. the women have much more freedom than in india. they do not veil their faces, nor are they shut up in their houses. they go about as freely as men, dressed in brilliant colored silks, wound simply and gracefully around them, and carrying the large chinese umbrellas. they enjoy also the glorious liberty of men in smoking tobacco. we meet them with long cheroots, done up in plantain leaves, in their mouths, grinning from ear to ear. the people are fond of pleasure and amusement, of games and festivals, and laugh and make merry to-day, and think not of to-morrow. this natural and irrepressible gayety of spirit has given them the name of the irish of the east. like the irish too, they are wretchedly improvident. since they can live so easily, they are content to live poorly. it should be said, however, that up to a recent period they had no motive for saving. the least sign of wealth was a temptation to robbery on the part of officials. now that they have security under the english government, they can save, and some of the natives have grown rich. this is one of the benefits of english rule, which make me rejoice whenever i see the english flag in any part of asia. wherever that flag flies, there is protection to property and life; there is law and order--the first condition of civilized society. such a government has been a great blessing to burmah, as to india. it is not necessary to raise the question how england came into possession here. it is the old story, that when a civilized and a barbarous power come in contact, they are apt to come into conflict. they cannot be quiet and peaceable neighbors. mutual irritations end in war, and war ends in annexation. in this way, after two wars, england acquired her possessions in the malayan peninsula, and lower burmah became a part of the great indian empire. we cannot find fault with england for doing exactly what we should do in the same circumstances, what we have done repeatedly with the american indians. such collisions are almost inevitable. so far from regretting that england thus "absorbed" burmah, i only regret that instead of taking half, she did not take the whole. for british burmah is not the whole of burmah; there is still a native kingdom on the upper irrawaddy, between british burmah and china, with a capital, mandelay, and a sovereign of most extraordinary character, who preserves in full force the notions of royalty peculiar to asiatic countries. recently a british envoy, sir douglas forsyth, was sent to have some negotiations with him, but there was a difficulty about having an audience of his majesty, owing to the peculiar etiquette of that court, according to which he was required to take off his boots, and get down on his knees, and approach the royal presence on all fours! i forget how the great question was compromised, but there is no doubt that the king of burmah considers himself the greatest potentate on earth. his capital is a wretched place. a russian gentleman whom we met in rangoon, had just come down from mandelay, and he described it as the most miserable mass of habitations that ever assumed to be called a city. there were no roads, no carriages, no horses, only a few bullock carts. yet the lord of this capital thinks it a great metropolis, and himself a great sovereign, and no one about him dares tell him to the contrary. he is an absolute despot, and has the power of life and death, which he exercises on any who excite his displeasure. he has but to speak a word or raise a hand, and the object of his wrath is led to execution. suspicion makes him cruel, and death is sometimes inflicted by torture or crucifixion. formerly bodies were often seen suspended to crosses along the river. of course no one dares to provoke such a master by telling him the truth. not long ago he sent a mission to europe, and when his ambassadors returned, they reported to the king that "london and paris were very respectable cities, but not to be compared to mandelay!" this was repeated to me by the captain of the steamer which brought them back, who said one of them told him they did not dare to say anything else; that they would lose their heads if they should intimate to his majesty that there was on the earth a greater sovereign than himself. but in spite of his absolute authority, this old king lives in constant terror, and keeps himself shut up in his palace, or within the walls of his garden, not daring to stir abroad for fear of assassination. it requires a few hard knocks to get a little sense into such a thick head; and if in the course of human events the english were called to administer these, we should be sweetly submissive to the ordering of providence. but though so ignorant of the world, this old king is accounted a learned man among his people, and is quite religious after his fashion. indeed he is reported to have said to an english gentleman that "the english were a great people, but what a pity that they had no religion!" in his own faith he is very "orthodox." he will not have any "dissenters" about him--not he. if any man has doubts, let him keep them to himself, lest the waters of the irrawaddy roll over his unbelieving breast. but in the course of nature this holy man will be gathered to his rest, and then his happy family may perhaps not live in such perfect harmony. he is now sixty-five years old, and has _thirty sons_, so that the question of succession is somewhat difficult, as there is no order of primogeniture. he has the right to choose an heir; and has been urged to do so by his english neighbors, to obviate all dispute to the succession. but he did this once and it raised a storm about his ears. the twenty-nine sons that were not chosen, with their respective mothers, raised such a din about his head that the poor man was nearly distracted, and was glad to revoke his decision, to keep peace in the family. he keeps his sons under strict surveillance lest they should assassinate him. but if he thus gets peace in his time, he leaves things in a state of glorious uncertainty after his death. then there may be a household divided against itself. perhaps they will fall out like the kilkenny cats. if there should be a disputed succession, and a long and bloody civil war, it might be a duty for their strong neighbors, "in the interest of humanity," to step in and settle the dispute by taking the country for themselves. who could regret an issue that should put an end to the horrible oppression and tyranny of the native government, with its cruel punishments, its tortures and crucifixions? it would give the english the mastery of a magnificent country. the valley of the irrawaddy is rich as the valley of the nile, and only needs "law and order" for the wilderness to bud and blossom as the rose. should the english take upper burmah, the great east indian empire would be extended over the whole south of asia, and up to the borders of china. but the excellent chief commissioner has no dream of annexation, his only ambition being to govern justly the people entrusted to his care; to protect them in their rights; to put down violence and robbery, for the country has been in such a fearful state of disorganization, that the interior has been overrun with bands of robbers. dacoity, as it is called, has been the terror of the country, as much as brigandage has been of sicily. but the english are now putting it down with a strong hand. to develop the resources of the country, the government seeks to promote internal communication and foreign commerce. at rangoon the track is already laid for a railroad up the country to prome. the seaports are improved and made safe for ships. with such facilities burmah may have a large commerce, for which she has ample material. her vast forests of teak would supply the demand of all southern asia; while the rice from the delta of the irrawaddy may in the future, as in the past, feed the millions of india who might otherwise die from famine. with the establishment of this civilized rule there opens a prospect for the future of burmah, which shall be better than the old age of splendid tyranny. says mason: "the golden age when pegu was the land of gold, and the irrawaddy the river of gold, has passed away, and the country degenerated into the land of paddy (rice), and the stream into the river of teak. yet its last days are its best days. if the gold has vanished, so has oppression; if the gems have fled, so have the taskmasters; if the palace of the brama of toungoo, who had twenty-six crowned heads at his command, is in ruins, the slave is free." the poor native has now some encouragement to cultivate his rice field, for its fruit will not be taken from him. the great want of the country is the same as that of the western states of america--population. british burmah has but three millions of inhabitants, while, if the country were as thickly settled as belgium and holland, or as some parts of asia, it might support thirty millions. such a population cannot come at once, or in a century, but the country may look for a slow but steady growth from the overflow of india and china, that shall in time rebuild its waste places, and plant towns and cities along its rivers. while thus interested in the political state of burmah we cannot forget its religion. in coming from india to farther india we have found not only a new race, but a new faith and worship. while brahminism rules the great southern peninsula of asia, buddhism is the religion of eastern asia, numbering more adherents than any other religion on the globe. of this new faith one may obtain some idea by a visit to the great pagoda. the buddhists, like the priests of some other religions, choose lofty sites for their places of worship, which, as they overtop the earth, seem to raise them nearer to heaven. the great pagoda stands on a hill, or rocky ledge, which overlooks the city of rangoon and the valley of the irrawaddy. it is approached by a long flight of steps, which is occupied, like the approaches to the ancient temple in jerusalem, by them that buy and sell, so that it is a kind of bazaar, and also by lepers and blind men, who stretch out their hands to ask for alms of those who mount the sacred hill to pray. ascending to the summit, we find a plateau, on which there is an enclosure of perhaps an acre or two of ground. the pagoda is a colossal structure, with a broad base like a pyramid, though round in shape, sloping upwards to a slender cone, which tapers at last to a sort of spire over three hundred feet high, and as the whole, from base to pinnacle, is covered with gold leaf, it presents a very dazzling appearance, when it reflects the rays of the sun. as a pagoda is always a solid mass of masonry, with no inner place of worship--not even a shrine, or a chamber like that in the heart of the great pyramid--there was more of fervor than of fitness in the language of an english friend of missions, who prayed "that the pagodas might resound with the praises of god!" they might resound, but it must needs be on the outside. the tall spire has for its extreme point, what architects call a finial--a kind of umbrella, which the burmese call a "htee," made of a series of iron rings gilded, from which hang many little silver and brass bells, which, swinging to and fro with every passing breeze, give forth a dripping musical sound. the buddhist idea of prayer is not limited to human speech; it may be expressed by an offering of flowers, or the tinkling of a bell. it is at least a pretty fancy, which leads them to suspend on every point and pinnacle of their pagodas these tiny bells, whose soft, aërial chimes sound sweetly in the air, and floating upward, fill the ear of heaven with a constant melody. besides the great pagoda, there are other smaller pagodas, one of which has lately been decorated with a magnificent "htee," presented by a rich timber merchant of maulmain. it is said to have cost fifty thousand dollars, as we can well believe, since it is gemmed with diamonds and other precious stones. there was a great festival when it was set up in its place, which was kept up for several days, and is just over. at the same time he presented an elephant for the service of the temple, who, being thus consecrated, is of course a sacred beast. we met him taking his morning rounds, and very grand he was, with his crimson and gold trappings and howdah, and as he swung along with becoming gravity, he was a more dignified object than the worshippers around him. but the people were very good-natured, and we walked about in their holy places, and made our observations with the utmost freedom. in the enclosure are many pavilions, some of which are places for worship, and others rest-houses for the people. the idols are hideous objects, as all idols are, though perhaps better looking than those of the hindoos. they represent buddha in all positions, before whose image candles are kept burning. in the grounds is an enormous bell, which is constantly struck by the worshippers, till its deep vibrations make the very air around holy with prayer. with my american curiosity to see the inside of everything, i crawled under it (it was hung but a few inches above the ground), and rose up within the hollow bronze, which had so long trembled with pious devotion. but at that moment it hung in silence, and i crawled back again, lest by some accident the enormous weight should fall and put an extinguisher on my further comparative study of religions. this bell serves another purpose in the worship of buddhists. they strike upon it before saying their prayers, to attract the attention of the recording angel, so that they may get due credit for their act of piety. those philosophical spirits who admire all religions but the christian, will observe in this a beautiful economy in their devotions. they do not wish their prayers to be wasted. by getting due allowance for them, they not only keep their credit good, but have a balance in their favor. it is the same economy which leads them to attach prayers to water-wheels and windmills, by which the greatest amount of praying may be done with the least possible amount of labor or time. the one object of the buddhist religion seems to be to attain merit, according to the amount of which they will spend more or less time in the realm of spirits before returning to this cold world, and on which depends also the form they will assume on their reincarnation. among those who sit at the gate of the temple as we approach, are holy men, who, by a long course of devotion, have accumulated such a stock of merit that they have enough and to spare, and are willing to part with it for a consideration to others less fortunate than themselves. it is the old idea of works of supererogation over again, in which, as in many other things, they show the closest resemblance to romanism. but however puerile it may be in its forms of worship, yet as a religion buddhism is an immeasurable advance on brahminism. in leaving india we have left behind hindooism, and are grateful for the change, for buddhism is altogether a more respectable religion. it has no bloody rites like those of the goddess kali. it does not outrage decency nor morality. it has no obscene images nor obscene worship. it has no caste, with its bondage and its degradation. indeed, the scholar who makes a study of different religions, will rank buddhism among the best of those which are uninspired; if he does not find in its origin and in the life of its founder much that looks even like inspiration. there is no doubt that buddha, or gaudama, if such a man ever lived (of which there is perhaps no more reason to doubt than of any of the great characters of antiquity), began his career of a religious teacher, as a reformer of brahminism, with the honest and noble purpose of elevating the faith, and purifying the lives of mankind. mason, as a christian missionary, certainly did not desire to exaggerate the virtues of another religion, and yet he writes of the origin of buddhism: "three hundred years before alexandria was founded; about the time that thales, the most ancient philosopher of europe, was teaching in greece that water is the origin of all things, the soul of the world; and zoroaster, in media or persia, was systematizing the fire-worship of the magi; and confucius in china was calling on the teeming multitudes around him to offer to guardian spirits and the names of their ancestors; and nebuchadnezzar set up his golden image in the plains of dura, and daniel was laboring in babylon to establish the worship of the true god; a reverend sage, with his staff and scrip, who had left a throne for philosophy, was travelling from gaya to benares, and from benares to kanouj, exhorting the people against theft, falsehood, adultery, killing and intemperance. no temperance lecturer advocates teetotalism now more strongly than did this sage gaudama twenty-three centuries ago. nor did he confine his instructions to external vices. pride, anger, lust, envy and covetousness were condemned by him in as strong terms as are ever heard from the christian pulpit. love, mercy, patience, self-denial, alms-giving, truth, and the cultivation of wisdom, he required of all. good actions, good words, and good thoughts were the frequent subjects of his sermons, and he was unceasing in his cautions to keep the mind free from the turmoils of passion, and the cares of life. immediately after the death of this venerable peripatetic, his disciples scattered themselves abroad to propagate the doctrines of their master, and tradition says, one party entered the principal mouth of the irrawaddy, where they traced its banks to where the first rocks lift themselves abruptly above the flats around. here, on the summit of this laterite ledge, one hundred and sixty feet above the river, they erected the standard of buddhism, which now lifts its spire to the heavens higher than the dome of st. paul's." in its practical effects buddhism is favorable to virtue; and its adherents, so far as they follow it, are a quiet and inoffensive people. they are a kind of quakers, who follow an inward light, and whose whole philosophy of life is one of repression of natural desires. their creed is a mixture of mysticism and stoicism, which by gentle meditation subdues the mind to "a calm and heavenly frame," a placid indifference to good or ill, to joy or sorrow, to pleasure and pain. it teaches that by subduing the desires--pride, envy, and ambition--one brings himself into a state of tranquillity, in which there is neither hope nor fear. it is easy to see where such a creed is defective; that it does not bring out the heroic virtues, as shown in active devotion to others' good. this active philanthropy is born of christianity. there is a spiritual selfishness in dreaming life away in this idle meditation. but so far as others are concerned, it bids no man wrong his neighbor. buddha's table of the law may be compared with that of moses. instead of ten commandments, it has only five, which correspond very nearly to the latter half of the decalogue. indeed three of them are precisely the same, viz.: do not kill; do not steal; and do not commit adultery; and the fourth, do not lie, includes, as a broader statement, the mosaic command not to bear false witness against one's neighbor; but the last one of all, instead of being "not to covet," is, do not become intoxicated. these commands are all prohibitions, and enforce only the negative side of virtue. they forbid injury to property and life and reputation, and thus every injury to one's neighbor, and the last of all forbids injury to one's self, while they do not urge active benevolence to man nor piety towards god. these five commandments are the rule of life for all men. but to those who aspire to a more purely religious life, there are other and stricter rules. they are required to renounce the world, to live apart, and practice rigid austerities, in order to bring the body into subjection. every day is to be one of abstinence and self-denial. to them are given five other commands, in addition to those prescribed to mankind generally. they must take no solid food after noon (a fast not only friday, but every day of the week); they must not visit dances, singing or theatrical representations; must use no ornaments or perfumery in dress; must not sleep in luxurious beds, and while living by alms, accept neither gold nor silver. by this rigid self-discipline, they are expected to be able to subdue their appetites and passions and overcome the world. this monastic system is one point of resemblance between buddhism and romanism. both have orders of monks and nuns, who take vows of celibacy and poverty, and live in convents and monasteries. there is also a close resemblance in their forms of worship. both have their holy shrines, and use images and altars, before which flowers are placed, and lamps are always burning. both chant and pray in an unknown tongue.[ ] this resemblance of the buddhist creed and worship to their own, the jesuit missionaries have been quick to see, and with their usual artfulness have tried to use it as an argument to smooth the way for the conversion of the asiatics by representing the change as a slight one. but the buddhist, not to be outdone in quickness, answers that the difference is so slight that it is not worth making the change. the only difference, they say, is "we worship a man and you worship a woman!" but christianity has had other representatives in burmah than the jesuits. at an early day american missionaries, as if they could not go far enough away from home, in their zeal to carry the gospel where it had not been preached before, sought a field of labor in southeastern asia. more than sixty years ago they landed on these shores. they planted no colonies, waged no wars, raised no flag, and made no annexation. the only flag they carried over them was that of the gospel of peace. and yet in the work they wrought they have left a memorial which will long preserve their sainted and heroic names. while in rangoon i took up again "the life of judson" by dr. wayland, and read it with new interest on the very spot which had been the scene of his labors. nothing in the whole history of missions is more thrilling than the story of his imprisonment. it was during the second burmese war. he was at that time at ava, the capital of burmah, where he had been in favor till now, when the king, enraged at the english, seized all that he could lay hands upon, and threw them into prison. he could not distinguish an american, who had the same features and spoke the same language, and so judson shared the fate of the rest. one day his house was entered by an officer and eight or ten men, one of whom he recognized by his hideous tattooed face as the executioner, who seized him in the midst of his family, threw him on the floor, drew out the instrument of torture, the small cord, with which he bound him, and hurried him to the death prison, where he was chained, as were the other foreigners, each with three pairs of fetters to a pole. he expected nothing but death, but the imprisonment dragged on for months, varied with every device of horror and of cruelty. often he was chained to the vilest malefactors. sometimes he was cast into an inner prison, which was like the black hole of calcutta, where his limbs were confined with five pairs of fetters. so loathsome was his prison, that he counted it the greatest favor and indulgence, when, after a fever, he was allowed to sleep in the cage of a dead lion! this lasted nearly two years. several times his keepers had orders (as they confessed afterward) to assassinate him, but, restrained perhaps by pity for his wife, they withheld their hand, thinking that disease would soon do the work for them. during all that long and dreadful time his wife watched over him with never-failing devotion. she could not sleep in the prison, but every day she dragged herself two miles through the crowded city, carrying food for her husband and the other english prisoners. during that period a child was born, whose first sight of its father was within prison walls. some time after even his heathen jailors took pity on him, and allowed him to take a little air in the street outside of the prison gate. and history does not present a more touching scene than that of this man, when his wife was ill, carrying his babe through the streets from door to door, asking burman mothers, in the sacred name of maternity, of that instinct of motherhood which is universal throughout the world, to give nourishment to this poor, emaciated, and dying child. but at length a day of deliverance came. the english army had taken rangoon and was advancing up the irrawaddy. then all was terror at ava, and the tyrant that had thrown judson into a dungeon, sent to bring him out and to beg him to go to the english camp to be his interpreter, and to sue for terms of peace. he went and was received with the honor due to his character and his sufferings. but the heroine of the camp was that noble american woman, whose devotion had saved, not only the life of her husband, but the lives of all the english prisoners. the commander-in-chief received her as if she had been an empress, and at a great dinner given to the burmese ambassadors placed her at his right hand, in the presence of the very men to whom she had often been to beg for mercy, and had been often driven brutally from their doors. the tables were turned, and they were the ones to ask for mercy now. they sat uneasy, giving restless glances at the missionary's wife, as if fearing lest a sudden burst of womanly indignation should impel her to demand the punishment of those who had treated her with such cruelty. but they were quite safe. she would not touch a hair of their heads. too happy in the release of the one she loved, her heart was overflowing with gratitude, and she felt no desire but to live among this people, and to do good to those from whom she had suffered so much. they removed to amherst, at the mouth of the maulmain river, and had built a pretty home, and were beginning to realize their dream of missionary life, when she was taken ill, and, broken by her former hardships, soon sank in death. probably "the life of judson" has interested american christians in burmah more than all the histories and geographical descriptions put together. general histories have never the interest of a personal narrative, and the picture of judson in a dungeon, wearing manacles on his limbs, exposed to death in its most terrible forms, to be tortured or to be crucified, and finally saved by the devotion of his wife, has touched the hearts of the american people more than all the learned histories of eastern asia that ever were written. and when i stood at a humble grave on amherst point, looking out upon the sea, and read upon the stone the name of ann hasseltine judson, and thought of that gentle american wife, coming out from the peace and protection of her new england home to face such dangers, i felt that i had never bent over the dust of one more worthy of all the honors of womanhood and sainthood; tender and shrinking, but whom love made strong and brave; who walked among coarse and brutal men, armed only with her own native modesty and dignity: who by the sick-bed or in a prison cast light in a dark place by her sweet presence; and who united all that is noble in woman's love and courage and devotion. judson survived this first wife about a quarter of a century--a period full of labor, and in its later years, full of precious fruit. that was the golden autumn of his life. he that had gone forth weeping, bearing precious seed, came again rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him. i wish the church in america could see what has been achieved by that well-spent life. most of his fellow-laborers have gone to their rest, though mr. and mrs. bennett at rangoon, and dr. and mrs. haswell at maulmain, still live to tell of the trials and struggles of those early days.[ ] and now appears the fruit of all those toilsome years. the mission that was weak has grown strong. in rangoon there are a number of missionaries, who have not only established churches and christian schools, but founded a college and a theological seminary. they have a printing press, under the charge of the veteran mr. bennett, who has been here forty-six years. in the interior are churches in great numbers. the early missionaries found a poor people--a sort of lower caste among the burmese--the karens. it may almost be said that they caught them in the woods and tamed them. they first reduced their language to writing; they gave them books and schools, and to-day there are twenty thousand of this people who are members of their churches. in the interior there are many christian villages, with native churches and native pastors, supported by the people themselves, whose deep poverty abounds to their liberality in a way that recalls apostolic times. the field which has been the scene of such toils and sacrifices properly belongs to the denomination which has given such examples of christian devotion. the baptists were the first to enter the country, led by an apostle. the mission in burmah is the glory of the baptist church, as that of the sandwich islands is of the american board. they have a sort of right to the land by reason of first occupancy--a right made sacred by these early and heroic memories; and i trust will be respected by other christian bodies in the exercise of that comity which ought to exist between churches as between states, in the possession of a field which they have cultivated with so much zeal, wisdom, and success. * * * * * it is not till one leaves rangoon that he sees the beauty of burmah. the banks of the irrawaddy, like those of the hoogly, are low and jungly; but as we glide from the river into the sea, and turn southward, the shores begin to rise, till after a few hours' sail we might be on the coast of wales or of scotland. the next morning found us at anchor off the mouth of the salwen river. the steamers of the british india company stop at all the principal ports, and we were now to pass up the river to maulmain. but the malda was too large to cross the bar except at very high tide, for which we should have to wait over a day. the prospect of resting here under a tropical sun, and in full sight of the shore, was not inviting, and we looked about for some way of escape. fortunately we had on board miss haswell, of the well-known missionary family, who had gone up from maulmain to rangoon to see some friends off for america, and was now returning. with such an interpreter and guide, we determined to go on shore, and hailing a pilot-boat, went down the ship's ladder, and jumped on board. the captain thought us very rash, as the sea was rough, and the boat rose and plunged in waves; but the malays are like seagulls on the water, and raising their sail, made of bamboo poles, and rush matting, we flew before the wind, and were soon landed at amherst point. this was holy ground, for here judson had lived, and here his wife died and was buried. her grave is on the sea-shore, but a few rods from the water, and we went straight to it. it is a low mound, with a plain headstone, around which an american sea captain had placed a wooden paling to guard the sacred spot. there she sleeps, with only the murmur of the waves, as they come rippling up the beach, to sing her requiem. but her name will not die, and in all the world, where love and heroism are remembered, what this woman hath done shall be told for a memorial of her. her husband is not here, for (as the readers of his life will remember) his last years were spent at maulmain, from which he was taken, when very ill, on board a vessel, bound for the mauritius, in hope that a voyage might save him when all other means had failed, and died at sea when but four days out, and was committed to the deep in the bay of bengal. one cannot but regret that he did not die on land, that he might have been buried beside his wife in the soil of burmah; but it is something that he is not far away, and the waters that roll over him kiss its beloved shores. miss haswell led the way up the beach to the little house which judson had built. it was unoccupied, but there was an old bedstead on which the apostle had slept, and i stretched myself upon it, feeling that i caught as much inspiration lying there as when i lay down in the sarcophagus of cheops in the heart of the great pyramid. we found a rude table too, which we drew out upon the veranda, and a family of native christians brought us rice and milk and eggs, with which we made a breakfast in native style. the family of miss haswell once occupied this mission house, and it was quite enlivening to hear, as we sat there quietly taking our rice and milk, how the tigers used to come around and make themselves at home, snuffing about the doors, and carrying off dogs from the veranda, and killing a buffalo in the front yard. they are not quite so familiar now along the coast, but in the interior one can hardly go through a forest without coming on their tracks. only last year miss haswell, on her way to attend the meeting of an association, camped in the woods. she found the men were getting sleepy, and neglected the fire, and so she kept awake, and sat up to throw on the wood. it was well, for in the night suddenly all the cattle sprang up with every sign of terror, and there came on the air that strong smell which none who have perceived it can mistake, which shows that a tiger is near. doubtless he was peering at them through the covert, and nothing but the blazing fire kept him away. after our repast, we took a ride in native style. a pair of oxen was brought to the door, with a cart turned up at both ends, in such a manner that those riding in it were dumped into a heap; and thus well shaken together, we rode down to the shore, where we had engaged a boat to take us up the river. it was a long slender skiff, which, with its covering of bamboo bent over it, was in shape not unlike a gondola of venice. the arch of its roof was of course not very lofty; we could not stand up, but we could sit or lie down, and here we stretched ourselves in glorious ease, and as a pleasant breeze came in from the sea, our little bark moved swiftly before it. the captain of our boat was a venerable-looking native, like some of the arabs we saw on the nile, with two boatmen for his "crew," stout fellows, whose brawny limbs were not confined by excess of clothing. in fact, they had on only a single garment, a kind of french blouse, which, by way of variety, they took off and washed in the river as we sailed along. however, they had another clout for a change, which they drew over them with great dexterity before they took off the first, so as not to offend us. altogether the scene was not unlike what some of my readers may have witnessed on one of our southern rivers; and if we could only have had the rich voices of the negro boatmen, singing "down on the alabama," the illusion would have been complete. thus in a dreamy mood, and with a gentle motion, we glided up the beautiful salwen, between low banks covered with forests, a distance of thirty miles, till at five o'clock we reached the lower end of maulmain, and went ashore, and rode two or three miles up the river to dr. haswell's, where miss h. claimed c---- for her guest, while i was entertained at her brother's in the old missionary compound, where dr. judson lived for so many years, and which he left only to die. these american friends, with their kind hospitalities, made us feel quite at home in burmah; and as if to bring still nearer christian england and america, we were taken the same evening to a prayer-meeting at the house of an english officer who is in command here, where they sang sankey's hymns! maulmain is a place of great natural beauty. though on the river, it rises from the water's edge in steep and wooded banks, and has a background of hills. one can hardly find a lovelier view in all the east than that from the hill behind it, on which stands an old buddhist monastery and pagoda. here the eye ranges over a distance of many miles. several rivers which flow together give the country the appearance of being covered with water, out of which rise many elevated points, like islands in a sea. in clear weather, after the rains, one may see on the horizon the distant peaks of the mountains in siam. this was a favorite resort of dr. judson, who, being a man of great physical as well as intellectual vigor, was fond of walking, and loved to climb the hills. miss haswell, who as a child remembered him, told us how she once saw him here "playing tag" with his wife, chasing her as she ran down the hill. this picture of the old man delighted me--to think that not all his labors and sufferings could subdue that unconquerable spirit, but that he retained even to old age the freshness of a boy, and was as hearty in play as in preaching. this is the sort of muscular christians that are needed to face the hardships of a missionary life--men who will not faint in the heat of the tropics, nor falter at the prospect of imprisonment or death. while we stood here the buddhist monks were climbing slowly up the hill, and i could but think of the difference between our intrepid missionary and these languid, not to say lazy, devotees. we had a good chance to observe them, and to remark their resemblance to similar orders in the church of rome. the buddhist monk, like his romish brother, shaves his head, eats no animal food (the command of buddha not to kill, is interpreted not to take life of any kind), and lives only by the alms of the faithful. seeing them here, with their shaven heads and long robes, going about the streets, stopping before the doors to receive their daily tributes of rice, one is constantly reminded of the mendicant friars of italy. they live in monasteries, which are generally situated, like this, on the tops of hills, retired from the world, where they keep together for mutual instruction, and to join in devotion. they do no work except to cultivate the grounds of the temple, but give up their lives to meditation and to prayer. it would be wrong to speak of such men but with proper respect. they are quiet and inoffensive; some of them are learned; still more are serious and devout. says dr. williams: "their largest monasteries contain extensive libraries, and a portion of the fraternity are well acquainted with letters, though numbers of them are ignorant even of their own books." "their moral character, as a class, is on a par with their countrymen, and many of them are respectable, intelligent, and sober-minded persons, who seem to be sincerely desirous of making themselves better, if possible, by their religious observances." but this life of a recluse, while favorable to study and meditation, does not inspire active exertion. indeed the whole buddhist philosophy of life seems to be comprised in this, that man should dream away existence here on earth, and then lapse into a dreamy eternity. "to be or not to be, that's the question;" and for them it seems better "not to be." their heaven--their nirvana--is annihilation, yet not absolute non-existence, but only absorption of their personality, so that their separate being is swallowed up and lost in god. they will still be conscious, but have no hope and no fear, no dread and no desire, but only survey existence with the ineffable calm of the infinite one. this passive, emotionless state is expressed in all the statues and images of buddha. if that be heaven, it is not earth; and they who pass life in a dream are not the men to revolutionize the world. this whole monastery, full of monks, praying and chanting for generations, cannot so stir the mind of asia, or make its power felt even in burmah, as one heroic man like judson. miss haswell belongs to a family of missionaries. her father and mother were companions of judson, and the children are in one way and another devoted to the same work. she has a school for girls, which is said to be the best in burmah. the chief commissioner at rangoon spoke of it in the highest terms, and makes special mention of it in his report. she told us with great modesty, and almost with a feeling of shame, of the struggle and mortification with which she had literally "begged" the money for it in america. but never did good seed scattered on the waters bear richer fruit. if a deputation from all the baptist churches which contributed to that school could but pay it a visit, and see what it is doing, it would never want for funds hereafter. burmah is a country which needs all good influences--moral and religious. it needs also a strong government, just laws rigidly enforced, to keep peace and order in the land. for though the people are so gay and merry, there is a fearful degree of crime. in maulmain there is a prison, which holds over a thousand prisoners, many of whom have been guilty of the worst crimes. a few days since there was an outbreak, and an attempt to escape. a number got out of the gate, and were running till they were brought up by shots from the military. seven were killed and seven wounded. i went through this prison one morning with the physician as he made his rounds. as we entered a man was brought up who had been guilty of some insubordination. he had once attempted to kill the jailer. the doctor inquired briefly into the offence, and said, without further words: "give him fifteen cuts." instantly the man was seized and tied, arms extended, and legs fastened, so that he could not move, and his back uncovered, and an attendant standing off, so that he could give his arm full swing, gave him fifteen cuts that made the flesh start up like whip-cord, and the blood run. the man writhed with agony, but did not scream. i suppose such severity is necessary, but it was a very painful sight. in the hospital we found some of the prisoners who had been concerned in the mutiny. the ringleader had been shot in the leg, which had been amputated. they had found that the ways of transgressors were hard. continuing our walk, we went through the different workshops, and saw the kinds of labor to which the men were put, such as making chairs of bamboo, weaving cloth, beating cocoanut husks to make stuff for mattresses, carving, making furniture, blacksmithing, &c. the worst offenders were put to grinding corn, as that was a species of labor in which they had no tools which could be used as deadly weapons. the men in this ward--perhaps a hundred in number--were desperate characters. they were almost all highway robbers, dacoits, bands of whom have long been the terror of the country. they all had irons on their ankles, and stood up to their tasks, working with their hands. i was not sorry to see "their feet made fast in the stocks," for in looking into their savage faces, one could but feel that he would rather see them in chains and behind iron bars, than meet them alone in a forest. but i turn to a more agreeable spectacle. it is sometimes more pleasant to look at animals than at men, certainly when men make beasts of themselves, and when, on the other hand, animals show an intelligence almost human. one of the great industries of burmah is the timber trade. the teak wood, which is the chief timber cut and shipped, is very heavy, and requires prodigious force to handle it; and as the burmese are not far enough advanced to use machinery for the purpose, they employ elephants, and bravely do the noble beasts perform their task. in the timber yards both at rangoon and at maulmain, all the heavy work of drawing and piling the logs is done by them. i have never seen any animals showing such intelligence, and trained to such docility and obedience. in the yard that we visited there were seven elephants, five of which were at that moment at work. their wonderful strength came into play in moving huge pieces of timber. i did not measure the logs, but should think that many were at least twenty feet long and a foot square. yet a male elephant would stoop down, and run his tusks under a log, and throw his trunk over it, and walk off with it as lightly as a gentleman would balance his bamboo cane on the tip of his finger. placing it on the pile, he would measure it with his eye, and if it projected too far at either end, would walk up to it, and with a gentle push or pull, make the pile even. if a still heavier log needed to be moved on the ground to some part of the yard, the mahout, sitting on the elephant's head, would tell him what to do, and the great creature seemed to have a perfect understanding of his master's will. he would put out his enormous foot, and push it along; or he would bend his head, and crouching half way to the ground, and doubling up his trunk in front, throw his whole weight against it, and thus, like a ram, would "butt" the log into its place; or if it needed to be taken a greater distance, he would put a chain around it, and drag it off behind him. the female elephant especially was employed in drawing, as having no tusks, she could not lift like her big brothers, but could only move by her power of traction or attraction. then using her trunk as deftly as a lady would use her fingers, she would untie the knot or unhitch the chain, and return to her master, perhaps putting out her trunk to receive a banana as a reward for her good conduct. it was a very pretty sight, and gave us a new idea of the value of these noble creatures, and of the way in which they can be trained for the service of man, since they can be not only made subject to his will, but taught to understand it, thus showing equal intelligence and docility. after a day or two thus pleasantly passed, we went on board the malda (which had finally got over the bar and come up to maulmain), and dropped down the river, and were soon sailing along the coast, which grows more beautiful as we steam southward. we pass a great number of islands, which form the mergui archipelago, and just now might be off the shores of greece. within these sheltered waters is tavoy, from which it is proposed to build a road over the mountains to bangkok in siam. there has long been a path through the dense forest, but one that could only be traversed by elephants. now it is proposed to have a good road, the expense to be borne by the two kingdoms. is not this a sign of progress, of an era of peace and good will? formerly burmah and siam were always at war. being neighbors and rivals, they were "natural enemies," as much as were france and england. but now the strong english hand imposes peace, and the two countries seek a closer connection. the road thus inaugurated will bind them together, and prove not only an avenue of commerce but a highway of civilization. at penang we enter the straits of malacca, on one side of which is the malayan peninsula, and on the other the island of sumatra, which is larger than all great britain, and where just now, at this upper end, the dutch have a war on their hands. penang is opposite acheen, and the malays, who are engaged in such a desperate resistance to the dutch, often cross the straits, and may be seen at any time in the streets of the english settlement. perhaps it is but natural that the english should have a sympathy with these natives, who are defending their country against invaders, though i do not perceive that this makes them more ready to yield the ground on their own side of the straits, where just now, at perak, they have a little war of their own. to this war in acheen i may refer again, when i come to write of the dutch power in java. bayard taylor celebrates penang as "the most beautiful island in the world," which is a great deal for one to say who has travelled so far and seen so much. i could not be quite so enthusiastic, and yet i do not wonder at any degree of rapture in one who climbs the peak of penang, which commands a view not only of the town and harbor below, but of other islands and waters, as well as of mountains and valleys in the interior, which are a part of siam. turning seaward, and looking down, this little island of penang appears as the gem of the scene--a mass of the richest tropical vegetation, set in the midst of tropical seas. we were now in the tropics indeed. we had been for weeks, but we had a more "realizing sense" of it as we got into the lower latitudes. the heat grew intense as we approached the equator. one after another we laid aside the garments of the colder north, and put on the lightest and thinnest costume, till we did not know but our only relief would be that suggested by sydney smith, "to take off our flesh and sit in our bones." with double awnings spread over the deck, and the motion of the ship stirring the air, still the vertical sun was quite overpowering. we were obliged to keep on deck day and night, although there was ample room below. as there were but eight passengers in the cabin, each had a state-room; but with all this space, and portholes wide open, still it was impossible to keep cool. an iron ship becomes so heated that the state-rooms are like ovens. so we had to take refuge on deck. every evening the servants appeared, bringing our mattresses, which were spread on the skylight above the cabin. this was very well for the gentlemen of our company, but offered no relief of coolness for our only lady passenger. but a couple of gallant young englishmen, who with us were making the tour of the world, were determined that she should not be imprisoned below, and they set up on deck a screen, in which she was enclosed as in a tent; and not cleopatra, when floating in her gilded barge, reclined more royally than she, thus lifted up into the cool night air. then we all had our reward. the glory of the night made up for the fervors of the day. from our pillows we looked out upon the sea, and as the hot day brought thunderstorms, the lightning playing on the distant horizon lighted up the watery leagues around, till it seemed as if we were "alone, alone, all, all alone, alone on the wide, wide sea," floating on in darkness over an unfathomable abyss. at other times the sea was luminous with the light which she carries in her own bosom. these southern seas are full of those marine insects which shine like glow-worms in the dark; and when the waters were calm and still, when there was not a ripple on the bosom of the deep, we leaned over the stern of the ship to watch the long track of light which she left in the phosphorescent sea. but brighter than this watery illumination was the sky above, which was all aglow with celestial fires. we had long become familiar with the southern cross, which we first saw in egypt on the nile, near the first cataract. but then it was just above the horizon. now it shone in mid-heaven, while around it were gathered the constellations of the southern hemisphere. i have seen the stars on the desert and on the sea, but never anything before that quite equalled these nights on the equator. but our voyage was coming to an end. we had already been twice as long on the bay of bengal as in crossing the atlantic. it was the last day of march when the captain of the ship came to me, as i was standing on deck, and said: "do you see that low point of land, with the trees upon it, coming down to the water? that is the most southern point of asia." that great continent, which we saw first at constantinople, and had followed so far around the globe, ended here. an hour afterward, as we rounded into singapore, a hand pointed eastward, and a voice at my side said: "uncle, there's the pacific!" she who spoke might perhaps have said rather, "there are the china seas," but they are a part of the great ocean which rolls its waters from asia to america. singapore is on an island, at the very end of the peninsula, so that it may be called truly "the jumping-off place." on this point of land, but a degree and a half from the equator, england has planted one of those colonies by which she keeps guard along the coasts, and over the waters, of southern asia. the town, which has a population of nearly a hundred thousand, is almost wholly chinese, but it is the english power which is seen in the harbor filled with ships, and the fort mounted with guns; and english taste which has laid out the streets and squares, and erected the public buildings. this might be called the island of palms, which grow here in great profusion--the tall cocoanut palm with its slender stem, the fan palm with its broad leaves, and many other varieties which mantle the hillsides, forming a rich background for the european bungalows that peer out from under a mass of tropical foliage. whoever goes around the world must needs pass by singapore. it is the one inevitable point in asia, as san francisco is in america. one is sure to meet here travellers, mostly english and american, passing to and fro, from india to china, or from china to india, making the grand tour. so common are they that they cease to inspire as much awe as marco polo or capt. cook, and have even received the nickname of "globe-trotters," and are looked upon as quite ordinary individuals. singapore is a good resting-point for americans--a convenient half-way house--as it is almost exactly on the other side of the globe from new york. having "trotted" thus far, we may be allowed to rest, at least over sunday, before we take a new start, and sail away into the southern hemisphere. footnotes: [ ] this book furnishes a good illustration of the incidental service which missionaries--aside from the religious work they do--render to the cause of geography, of science, and of literature. they are the most indefatigable explorers, and the most faithful and authentic narrators of what they see. its full title is: "burmah: its people and natural productions; or notes on the natives, fauna, flora, and minerals, of tenasserim, pegu, and burmah; with systematic catalogues of the known mammals, birds, fishes, reptiles, insects, mollusks, crustaceans, anellides, radiates, plants, and minerals, with vernacular names." in his preface the writer says: "no pretensions are made in this work to completeness. it is not a book composed in the luxury of literary leisure, but a collection of notes [what is here so modestly called notes, is an octavo of over pages] which i have been making during the twenty years of my residence in this country, in the corners of my time that would otherwise have been wasted. often to forget my weariness when travelling, when it has been necessary to bivouac in the jungles; while the karens have been seeking fuel for their night-fires, or angling for their suppers in the stream; i have occupied myself with analyzing the flowers that were blooming around my couch; or examining the fish that were caught; or an occasional reptile, insect, or bird, that attracted my attention. with such occupations i have brightened many a solitary hour; and often has the most unpromising situation proved fruitful in interest; for 'the barren heath, with its mosses, lichens, and insects, its stunted shrubs and pale flowers, becomes a paradise under the eye of observation; and to the genuine thinker the sandy beach and the arid wild are full of wonders.'" [ ] dr. s. wells williams, who was familiar with buddhism during his forty years residence in china, says ("middle kingdom," vol. ii., p. ): "the numerous points of similarity between the rites of the buddhists and those of the romish church, early attracted attention, ... such as the vow of celibacy in both sexes, the object of their seclusion, the loss of hair, taking a new name and looking after the care of the convent. there are many grounds for supposing that their favorite goddess kwanyin, i. e., the hearer of cries, called also holy mother, queen of heaven, is only another form of our lady. the monastic habit, holy water, counting rosaries to assist in prayer, the ordinances of celibacy and fasting, and reciting masses for the dead, worship of relics, and canonization of saints, are alike features of both sects. both burn candles and incense, and bells are much used in their temples: both teach a purgatory, from which the soul can be delivered by prayers, and use a dead language for their liturgy, and their priests pretend to miracles. these striking resemblances led the romish missionaries to suppose that some of them had been derived from the romanists or syrians who entered china before the twelfth century; others referred them to st. thomas, but prémare ascribes them to the devil, who had thus imitated holy mother church in order to scandalize and oppose its rights. but as davis observes: 'to those who admit that most of the romish ceremonies are borrowed directly from paganism, there is less difficulty in accounting for the resemblance.'" the following scene in a buddhist temple described by an eye-witness, answers to what is often seen in romish churches: "there stood fourteen priests, seven on each side of the altar, erect, motionless, with clasped hands and downcast eyes, their shaven heads and flowing gray robes adding to their solemn appearance. the low and measured tones of the slowly moving chant they were singing might have awakened solemn emotions, and called away the thoughts from worldly objects. three priests kept time with the music, one beating an immense drum, another a large iron vessel, and a third a wooden bell. after chanting, they kneeled upon low stools, and bowed before the colossal image of buddha, at the same time striking their heads upon the ground. then rising and facing each other, they began slowly chanting some sentences, and rapidly increasing the music and their utterance until both were at the climax of rapidity, they diminished in the same way until they had returned to the original measure.... the whole service forcibly reminded me of scenes in romish chapels." [ ] dr. haswell died a few months after we left burmah. chapter xxiii. the island of java. most travellers who touch at singapore sweep round that point like a race-horse, eager to be on the "home stretch." but in turning north, they turn away from a beauty of which they do not dream. they know not what islands, embowered in foliage, lie in those southern seas--what visions would reward them if they would but "those realms explore." the malayan peninsula is a connecting link between two great divisions of the globe; it is a bridge hundreds of miles long--a real giants' causeway, reaching out from the mainland of asia towards the island world beyond--a world with an interest all its own, which, now that we were so near, attracted us to its shores. leaving our fellow-travellers to go on to siam or to china, we took the steamer of the netherlands india company for java. it was a little boat of but tons, but it shot away like an arrow, and was soon flying like a sea-bird among islands covered with palm groves. on our right was the long coast of sumatra. towards evening we entered the straits of rhio, and in the night crossed the equator. when as a child i turned over the globe, i found this line indicated by a brass ring, and rather expected that the ship would get a thump as she passed over it; but she crossed without a shock, or even a jar; ocean melted into ocean; the waters of the china and the java seas flowed together, and we were in the southern hemisphere. the first thing on board which struck us strangely was that we had lost our language. the steamer was dutch, and the officers spoke only dutch. but on all these waters will be found passing to and fro gentlemen of intelligence, holding official positions here, but who have lived long in europe, and who speak english or french. at rhio we were joined by the resident, the highest official of that island, and by the inspector of schools from batavia; and the next day, as we entered the straits of banca, by the resident of palembang in sumatra--all of whom were very polite to us as strangers. we saw them again in java, and when we parted, felt almost that they were not only acquaintances, but friends. they were of course thoroughly informed about the new world around us, and were ready to enlighten our ignorance. we sat on deck at evening, and as they puffed their cigars with the tranquillity of true dutchmen, we listened to their discourse about the islands and people of the malayan archipelago. this part of the world would delight mr. darwin by the strange races it contains, some of which approach the animal tribes. in the island of rhio the resident assured me there were wild men who lived in trees, and had no language but cries; and in sumatra the resident of palembang said there were men who lived in the forests, with whom not only the europeans, but even the malays, could have no intercourse. he himself had never seen one. yet, strange to say, they have a petty traffic with the outer world, yet not through the medium of speech. they live in the woods, and live by the chase. they hunt tigers, not with the gun, but with a weapon called a sumpitan, which is a long tube, out of which they blow arrows with such force, and that are so keen of point, and touched with such deadly poison, that a wound is almost immediately fatal. these tiger skins or elephant tusks they bring for barter--not for sale--they never sell anything, for money is about the most useless thing they could have; they cannot eat it, or drink it, or wear it. but as they have wants, they exchange; yet they themselves are never seen. they bring what they have to the edge of the forest, and leave it there, and the malays come and place what _they_ have to dispose of, and retire. if the offer is satisfactory, when the malays return they find what they brought gone, and take what is left and depart. if not, they add a few trifles more to tempt the eyes of these wild men of the woods, and so at last the exchange is effected, yet all the while the sellers keep themselves invisible. this mode of barter argues great honesty on both sides. this island of sumatra is a world in itself. the resident of palembang has under him a country as large as the whole of java. the people of palembang are malays and chinese, thousands of whom live on rafts. in the interior of the island there are different races, speaking a dozen different languages or dialects. but with all its population, the greater part of the country is still given up to forest and jungle, the home of wild beasts--of the tiger and the rhinoceros. wild elephants range the forests in great numbers. he had often seen them in herds of two or three hundred. it seemed strange that they were not tamed, as in india and burmah. but such is not the habit of the people, who hunt them for ivory, but never attempt to subdue them, or use them as beasts of burden. hence they become a great nuisance, as they come about the villages and break into the plantations; and it is only when a grand hunt is organized for their destruction, that a neighborhood can be for a time rid of the pest. but if these are uncomfortable neighbors, there are others that are more so--the reptiles, which abound here as in india. but familiarity breeds contempt or indifference. the people are not afraid of them, and hardly notice them, but speak of them in an easy sort of way, as if they were the most harmless things in nature--poor innocent creatures, which might almost be pets in the family, and allowed to run about the house at their will. soberly, there are certain domestic snakes which are indulged with these liberties. said mr. k.: "i was once visiting in sumatra, and spending a night at the house of a friend. i heard a noise overhead, and asked, 'what is that?' 'oh, nothing,' they said; 'it's only the serpent.' 'what! do you keep a family snake?' 'yes,' they said; it was a large black snake which frequented the house, and as it did no mischief, and hunted the rats, they let it roam about wherever it liked." thinking this rather a big story, with which our friend might practise on the credulity of a stranger, i turned to the resident of palembang, who confirmed it. he said this domestication of serpents was not uncommon. there was a kind of boa that was very useful as an exterminator of rats, and for this purpose the good dutch housekeepers allowed it to crawl about or to lie coiled up in the pantry. sometimes this interesting member of the family was stretched out on the veranda to bask in the sun--a pleasant object to any stranger who might be invited to accept hospitality. i think i should have an engagement elsewhere, however pressing the invitation. i never could "abide" snakes. from the old serpent down, they have been my aversion, and i beg to decline their company, though they should be as insinuating as the one that tempted eve. but an english merchant in java afterwards assured me that "snakes were the best gardeners; that they devoured the worms and insects and small animals; and that for his part, he was rather pleased than otherwise when he saw a big boa crawling among the vines or in the rice-fields." i thought that the first instance of a serpent's gardening was in paradise, the effect of which was not encouraging, but there is no disputing about tastes. he said they frequently came around the houses, but did not often enter them, except that they were very fond of music (the dear creatures!); and sometimes in the evening, as doors and windows were left open for coolness, if the music was very fine, a head might be thrust in of a guest that had not been invited. but our conversation was not limited to this harrowing topic, but ranged over many features of sumatra--its scenery and climate, soil and vegetation. it is indeed a magnificent island. over a thousand miles long, and with more square miles than great britain and ireland together, it is large enough for a kingdom. in some parts the scenery is as grand as that of switzerland. along the western coast is a range of mountains like the alps (some peaks are , feet high), among which is set many an alpine valley, with its glistening lake. that coast is indented with bays, on one of which is the dutch capital, padang. east of the mountains the island spreads out into vast plains, watered by noble rivers. the soil is very rich, yielding all the fruits of the tropics in great abundance. the tobacco especially is of a much finer quality than that of java, and brings twice as much in the market. this fertility will attract population both from asia and from europe, and under a good government this island may yet be the seat of an empire worthy of its greatness. but just now the dutch have a task to bring it into subjection. they have an enemy in the north harder to subdue than tigers and wild elephants. these are the terrible malays, against whom has been kept up for years the war in acheen--a war waged with such deadly and unrelenting hate and fury, that it has taken on a character of ferocity. of the right or wrong of this savage contest, i cannot judge, for i hear only one side of the story. i am told that the malays are a race of pirates, with whom it is impossible to live in good neighborhood, and that there can be no peace till they are subdued. at the same time, one cannot refuse a degree of sympathy even to savages who defend their own country, and who fight with such conspicuous bravery. to this all the dutch officers bore testimony, saying that they fought "like devils." the malays are very much like our american indians, both in features and in character--a proud, high-spirited race, capable of any act of courage or devotion, but full of that hot blood that resents an insult. "if you have a malay servant," i heard often in the east, "you may scold him or send him away, but _never strike_ him, for that is an indignity which he feels more than a wound; which he never forgets or forgives; but which, if he has an opportunity, he will avenge with blood." such a people, when they come into battle, sacrifice their lives without a moment's hesitation. they have a great advantage, as they are in their own territory, and can choose their own time and place of attack, or keep out of the way, leaving the enemy to be worn out by the hot climate and by disease. of course if the dutch could once bring them within range of their guns, or entice them into a pitched battle, european skill and discipline would be victorious. but the malays are too wary and active; they hide in the fastnesses of the hills, and start up here and there in unexpected quarters, and after a sudden dash, fly to the mountains. they have a powerful ally in the pestilential climate, which brings on those deadly fevers that kill more than perish in battle. such a war may drag on for years, during which the dutch territory will not extend much beyond the places occupied by troops, or the ports defended by the guns of the fleet. if the dutch hold on with their proverbial tenacity, they may conquer in the end, though at an immense cost in treasure and in life. if the malays are once subdued, and by a wise and lenient policy converted to some degree of loyalty, they may prove, like the sikhs in india, the brave defenders of the power against which they fought so well. with such conversation to lighten the hours, they did not seem long, as we were running through the java sea. on the third day from singapore, we came among the thousand islands, and in the afternoon descried on the horizon the mountains of java, and just at sunset were in the roads of batavia. there is no harbor, but an open roadstead; and here a whole fleet of ships were riding at anchor--ships of war and merchant ships from all parts of the world. it was two or three miles from the quay, but as the evening drew on, we could see lights along the shore; and at eight o'clock, just as the gun was fired from the flagship of the dutch admiral, we put off in a native boat, manned by a malay crew. it was a beautiful moonlight night, and we seemed to be floating in a dream, as our swarthy boatmen bent to their oars, and we glided silently over a tropical sea to this unknown shore. at the custom house a dark-skinned official, whose buttons gave him a military air, received us with dignity, and demanded if we had "pistolets," and being satisfied that we were not attempting an armed invasion of the island, gave but a glance at our trunks, and politely bowed us to a carriage that was standing outside the gates, and away we rattled through the streets of batavia to the hotel nederland. the next morning at an early hour we were riding about to "take our bearings" and adjust ourselves to the situation. if we had not known where we were, but only that we were in some distant part of the world, we could soon guess that we were in a dutch rather than in an english colony. here were the inevitable canals which the dutch carry with them to all parts of the earth. the city is intersected by these watery streets, and the boats in them might be lying at the quays of rotterdam or amsterdam. the city reminds us a good deal of the hague, in its broad streets lined with trees, and its houses, which have a substantial dutch look, as if they were built for comfort and not for show. they are low and large, spreading out over a great deal of surface, but not towering ambitiously upwards. a pretty sight it was to see these fine old mansions, standing back from the street, with ample space around them, embowered in trees and shrubbery, with lawns and gardens kept in perfect order; and with all the doors and windows wide open, through which we could see the breakfast tables spread, as if to invite even strangers, such as we were, to enter and share their hospitality. before we left java, we were guests in one of these mansions, and found that dutch hospitality was not merely in name. among the ornaments of the city are two large and handsome public squares--the king's plain and waterloo plain. the latter name reminds us that the dutch had a part in the battle of waterloo. with pardonable pride they are persuaded that the contingent which they contributed to the army of wellington had no small part in deciding the issue of that terrible day, and they thus commemorate _their_ victory. this plain is used as a parade-ground, and the dutch cavalry charge over it with ardor, inspired by such heroic memories. it may surprise some of my readers accustomed to our new american cities, to learn how old is batavia. about the time that the pilgrim fathers sailed from holland, another expedition from the same country carried the dutch flag to the other side of the world, and batavia was settled the year before the landing on plymouth rock. of course it was a very small beginning of their power in the east, but slowly the petty trading settlement grew into a colony, and its territory was extended by degrees till, more than a hundred years after, it took in the whole island. in the old palace on waterloo plain, now used as a museum, are the portraits of dutch governors who have ruled here for two hundred and fifty years. but the capital of java--at least the residence of the governor-general--is not at batavia, but at buitenzorg, nearly forty miles in the interior, to which one can go by railroad in two hours. as we took our seats in the carriage we had the good fortune to meet mr. fraser, an english merchant, who has lived many years in java, and is well known and highly respected throughout the island, who gave us information of the country over which we were passing. the plains near the sea had at this time an appearance of great beauty. they were laid out in rice fields which have a more vivid color than fields of grain, and now shone with an emerald green. it was the time of the gathering of the harvest, and the fields were filled with reapers, men and women, young men and maidens. but one hears not the click of the reaper. i am told that the attempt to introduce a mowing machine or a patent reaper would make a revolution in the island. all the rice of java is cut by hand, and not even with the sickle, which is an instrument much too coarse for this dainty work, but with a knife three or four inches long, so that the spears are clipped as with a pair of scissors. taking a few blades gently, they cut them off, and when they have a handful bind it in a tiny sheaf about as large as a bunch of asparagus. when they have cut and bound up five, one is laid aside for the landlord and four go to the cultivators. this slow progress might make a young american farmer very impatient. perhaps not, if he knew all the charms of the rice field, which might make a country swain quite willing to linger. mr. fraser explained that this season was the time, and the rice field the scene, of the matrimonial engagements made during the year! ah, now it is all explained. who can wonder that the gentle reapers linger over the rice blades while they are proposing or answering questions on which their whole life may depend? no doubt in merry england it has often happened that hay-making and love-making have gone on in the fields together. and we cannot wonder that such rural arts should be known in a land warmed by a tropical sun. but the food of the natives is not found in the rice fields alone; it is brought down from the top of the cocoanut palm, and drawn up from the bottom of caves of the earth. "do you see yonder small mountain?" said mr. f. "that is a famous hunting-ground for the edible birds' nests, which are esteemed such a delicacy by the chinese. the birds are swallows and build their nests in caves, into which the hunters are let down by long bamboo ropes, and drawn up laden with spoil. so great has been the yield, and so highly prized, that the product of that hill exported to china in one year returned a profit of £ , . of late this has been much reduced, owing to the diminished production, or that the chinese are not ready to pay so much for such dainty luxuries." at buitenzorg the low land of the coast is exchanged for the hills. we are at the foot of the range of mountains which forms the backbone of the island. to give an idea of the character of the scenery, let me sketch a picture from my own door in the bellevue hotel. the rooms, as in all tropical climates, open on a broad veranda. here, stretched in one of the easy chairs made of bamboo, we look out upon a scene which might be in switzerland, so many features has it which are alpine in their character. the hotel stands on a projecting shelf of rock or spur of a hill, overlooking a deep gorge, through which flows, or rather rushes, a foaming mountain torrent, whose ceaseless murmurs come up from below; while in front, only three or four miles distant, rises the broad breast of a mountain, very much like the lower summits or foothills of the alps, which hang over many a sequestered vale in switzerland or in the tyrol. but here the resemblance ends. for as we descend from the broad outlines of the landscape to closer details, it changes from the rugged features of an alpine pass, and takes its true tropical character. there are no snow-clad peaks, for we are almost under the equator. the scene might be in the andes rather than in the alps. the mountain before us, the salak, is a volcano, though not now in action. as we look down from our perch, the eye rests upon a forest such as is never seen in the alps. here are no dark pines, such as clothe the sides of the vale of chamouni. in the foreground, on the river bank, at the foot of the hill, is a cluster of native huts, half hidden by long feathery bamboos and broad-leaved palms. the forest seems to be made up of palms of every variety--the cocoanut palm, the sago palm, and the sugar palm, with which are mingled the bread-fruit tree, and the nutmeg, and the banana; and not least of all, the _cinchona_, lately imported from south american forests, which yields the famous peruvian bark. the attempt to acclimatize this shrub, so precious in medicine, has been completely successful, so that the quinine of java is said to be even better than that of south america. in the middle distance are the rice fields, with their intense green, and farther, on the side of the mountain, are the coffee plantations, for which java is so famous. buitenzorg has a botanical garden, the finest by far to be found out of europe, and the richest in the world in the special department of tropical plants and trees. all that the tropics pour from their bounteous stores; all those forms of vegetable life created by the mighty rains and mightier sun of the equator--gigantic ferns, like trees, and innumerable orchids (plants that live on air)--are here in countless profusion. one of the glories of the garden is an india-rubber tree of great size, which spreads out its arms like an english oak, but dropping shoots here and there (for it is a species of banyan) which take root and spring up again, so that the tree broadens its shade, and as the leaves are thick and tough as leather, offers a shield against even the vertical sun. there are hundreds of varieties of palms--african and south american--some of enormous height and breadth, which, as we walked under their shade, seemed almost worthy to stand on the banks of the river of life. such a vast collection offers an attraction like the garden of plants in paris. i met here the italian naturalist beccari, who was spending some weeks at buitenzorg to make a study of a garden in which he had the whole tropics in a space of perhaps a hundred acres. he has spent the last eight years of his life in the malayan archipelago, dividing his time, except a few months in the moluccas, between borneo and new guinea. the latter island he considered richer in its fauna and flora than any other equal spot on the surface of the globe, with many species of plants and animals unknown elsewhere. he had his own boat, and sailed along the coast and up the rivers at his will. he penetrated into the forest and the jungle, living among savages, and for the time adopting their habits of life, not perhaps dressing in skins, but sleeping in their huts or on the ground, and living on their food and such game as he could get with his gun. he laughed at the dangers. he was not afraid of savages or wild beasts or reptiles. indeed he lived in such close companionship with the animal kingdom that he got to be in very intimate, not to say amicable, relations; and to hear him talk of his friends of the forest, one would think he would almost beg pardon of a beast that he was obliged to shoot and stuff in the interest of science. he complained only that he could not find enough of them. snakes he "doted on," and if he espied a monster coiling round a tree, or hanging from the branches, his heart leaped up as one who had found great spoil, for he thought how its glistening scales would shine in his collection. i was much entertained by his adventures. he left us one morning in company with our host carlo, who is a famous hunter, on an expedition after the rhinoceros--a royal game, which abounds in the woods of java. the beauty of this island is not confined to one part of it. as yet we have seen only western java, and but little of that. but there is middle java and eastern java. the island is very much like cuba in shape--long and narrow, being near seven hundred miles one way, and less than a hundred the other. thus it is a great breakwater dividing the java sea from the indian ocean. to see its general configuration, one needs to sail along the coast to get a distant view; and then, to appreciate the peculiar character of its scenery, he should make excursions into the interior. the residents of rhio and palembang called to see us and made out an itinéraire; and mr. levyssohn norman, the secretary general, to whom i brought a letter from a dutch officer whom we met at naples, gave me letters to the residents in middle java. thus furnished we returned to batavia, and took the steamer for samarang--two days' sail to the eastward along the northern shore. as we put out to sea a few miles, we get the general figure of the island. the great feature in the view is the mountains, a few miles from the coast, some of which are ten and twelve thousand feet high, which make the background of the picture, whose peculiar outline is derived from their volcanic character. java lies in what may be called a volcano belt, which is just under the equator, and reaches not only through java, but through the islands of bali and lombok to the moluccas. instead of one long chain of equal elevation in every part, or a succession of smooth, rounded domes, there is a number of sharp peaks thrown up by internal fires. thus the sky line is changing every league. european travellers are familiar with the cone-like shape of vesuvius, overlooking the bay of naples. here is the same form, repeated nearly forty times, as there are thirty-eight volcanoes in the island. around the bay of samarang are nine in one view! some of them are still active, and from time to time burst out in fearful eruptions; but just now they are not in an angry mood, but smoking peacefully, only a faint vapor, like a fleecy cloud, curling up against the sky. all who have made the ascent of vesuvius, remember that its cone is a blackened mass of ashes and scoriæ. but a volcano here is not left to be such a picture of desolation. nature, as if weary of ruin, and wishing to hide the rents she has made, has mantled its sides with the richest tropical vegetation. as we stand on the deck of our ship, and look landward, the mountains are seen to be covered near their base with forests of palms; while along their breasts float belts of light cloud, above which the peaks soar into the blue heavens. at the eastern end of the island, near souraboya, there is a volcano with the largest crater in the world, except that of kilaccea in the sandwich islands. it is three miles across, and is filled with a sea of sand. descending into this broad space, and wading through the sand, as if on the desert, one comes to a new crater in the centre, a thousand feet wide, which is always smoking. this the natives regard with superstitious dread, as a sign that the powers below are in a state of anger; and once a year they go in crowds to the mountain, dragging a bullock, which is thrown alive into the crater, with other offerings, to appease the wrath of the demon, who is raging and thundering below. wednesday morning brought us to samarang, the chief port of middle, as batavia is of western, and sourabaya of eastern java. as we drew up to the shore, the quay was lined with soldiers, who were going off to the war in acheen. the regiments intended for that service are brought first to java, to get acclimated before they are exposed to what would be fatal to fresh european troops. these were now in fine condition, and made a brave sight, drawn up in rank, with the band playing, and the people shouting and cheering. this is the glittering side of war. but, poor fellows! they have hard times before them, of which they do not dream. it is not the enemy they need to fear, but the hot climate and the jungle fever, which will be more deadly than the kris of the malay. these soldiers are not all dutch; some are french. on our return to batavia, the steamer carried down another detachment, in which i found a couple of french zouaves (there may have been others), one of whom told me he had been in the surrender at sedan, and the other had taken part in the siege of paris. after their terms had expired in the french army, they enlisted in the dutch service, and embarked for the other side of the world, to fight in a cause which is not their own. i fear they will never see france again, but will leave their bones in the jungles of sumatra. but our thoughts are not of war, but of peace, as we ride through the long dutch town, so picturesquely situated between the mountains and the sea, and take the railway for the interior. we soon leave the lowlands of the coast, and penetrate the forests, and wind among the hills. our first stop is at solo, which is an imperial residence. it is a curious relic of the old native governments of java, that though the dutch are complete masters, there are still left in the island an emperor and a sultan, who are allowed to retain their lofty titles, surrounded with an imperial etiquette. the emperor of solo lives in his "kraton," which is what the seraglio is among the turks, a large enclosure in which is the palace. he has a guard of a few hundred men, who gratify his vanity, and enable him to spend his money in keeping a number of idle retainers; but there is a dutch resident close at hand, without whose permission he cannot leave the district, and hardly his own grounds; while in the very centre of the town is a fort, with guns mounted, pointing towards his palace, which it could soon blow about his ears. thus "protected," he is little better than a state prisoner. but he keeps his title "during good behavior," and once a year turns out in grand state, to make an official visit to the resident, who receives him with great distinction; and having thus "marched up the hill," he "marches down again." we had a letter to the resident, and hoped to pay our respects to his majesty, but learned that it would require several days to arrange an audience. it is a part of the court dignity which surrounds such a potentate, that he should not be easily accessible, and we should be sorry to disturb the harmless illusion. but if we did not see the "lion" of solo, we saw the tigers, which were perhaps quite as well worth seeing. the emperor, amid the diversions with which he occupies his royal mind, likes to entertain his military and official visitors with something better than a spanish bull-fight, namely, a tiger-fight with a bull or a buffalo, or with men, for which he has a number of trained native spearmen. for these combats his hunters trap tigers in the mountains; and in a building made of heavy timbers fitted close together, with only space between for light and air, were half a dozen of them in reserve. they were magnificent beasts; not whelped in a cage and half subdued by long captivity, like the sleek creatures of our menageries and zoölogical gardens; but the real kings of the forest, caught when full grown (some but a few weeks before), and who roared as in their native wilds. it was terrific to see the glare of their eyes, and to hear the mutterings of their rage. one could not look at them, even through their strong bars, without a shudder. a gentleman of java told me that he had once caught in the mountains a couple of tigers in a pit, but that as he approached it, their roaring was so terrific, as they bounded against the sides of the pit, that it required all his courage to master a feeling of indescribable terror. adjoining the dominion of solo is that of jookja, where, instead of an emperor, is a sultan, not quite so great a potentate as the former, but who has his chateau and his military guard, and goes through the same performance of playing the king. the dutch resident has a very handsome palace, with lofty halls, where on state occasions he receives the sultan with becoming dignity--a mark of deference made all the more touching by the guns of the fort, which, from the centre of the town, keep a friendly watch for the least sign of rebellion. this part of middle java is very rich in sugar plantations. one manufactory which we visited was said to yield a profit of $ , a year. nor is this the product of slave labor, like the sugar of cuba. yet it is not altogether free labor. there is a peculiar system in java by which the government, which is the owner of the land, in renting an estate to a planter, rents those who live on it with the estate. it guarantees him sufficient labor to work his plantation. the people are obliged to labor. this is exacted partly as a due to the government, amounting to one or two days in the week. for the rest of the time they are paid small wages. but they cannot leave their employer at will. there is no such absolute freedom as that which is said to have ruined jamaica, where the negro may throw down his tools and quit work at the very moment when the planter is saving his crop. the government compels him to labor, but it also compels his master to pay him. the system works well in java. laborers are kept busy, the lands are cultivated, and the production is enormous--not only making the planters rich, but yielding a large revenue to holland. at jookja the railroad ends. further excursions into the country must be by a private carriage. some thirty miles distant is an ancient ruin, which is in java what the great pyramid is in egypt, with which it is often compared. to reach this, we ordered a carriage for the next morning. probably the landlord thought he had a milord anglais for his guest, who must make his progress through the island with royal magnificence; for, when we rose very early for our ride, we found in front of the door a huge carriage with _six horses_! the horses of java are small, but full of spirit, like the canadian ponies. on the box was a fat coachman, who outweighed both of us inside. behind us stood two fellows of a lighter build, whose high office it was to urge our gallant steeds by voice and lash to their utmost speed. they were dressed in striped jackets, like circus-riders, and were as agile as cats. whenever the mighty chariot lagged a little, they leaped to the ground, and running forward with extraordinary swiftness, shouted and lashed the horses till, with their goadings and their cries, the beasts, driven to madness, reared and plunged and raced forward so wildly, that we almost expected to be dashed in pieces. such is the price of glory! what grandeur was this! when we were in egypt, riding about the streets of cairo with two "syces" (servants dressed in white, who run before a carriage to clear the way), i felt like joseph riding in pharaoh's chariot. but now i felt as if i were pharaoh himself. our route was through long avenues of trees, of palms and bamboos. the roads, as everywhere in java, are excellent, smooth as a floor, solidly built, and well kept. to construct such roads, and keep them in repair, must be a work of great difficulty, as in the rainy season the floods come in such force as would sweep away any but those which are firmly bedded. these roads are said to be owing to a famous dutch governor, marshal dændels, who ruled here in the early part of this century. according to tradition he was a man of tremendous will, which he enforced with arbitrary and despotic authority. he laid out a system of highways, and assigned to certain native officers each his portion to build. knowing that things moved slowly in these eastern countries, and that the officers in charge might try to make excuses for delay, he added a gentle admonition that he should hold each man responsible; and by way of quickening their sense of duty, he erected gibbets at convenient intervals along the road, and if an official failed to "come to time," he simply had him executed. the spectacle of a few of these native gentry hanging by the roadside had such an enlivening effect on the javanese imagination, that the roads were built as if by magic. perhaps the system might be applied with excellent effect to "contractors" in other parts of the world! but on the best roads this speed could not be kept up for a long time. the stages were short, the relays being but five miles apart. every three-quarters of an hour we changed horses. the stations were built over the roads, something in the style of an old-fashioned turnpike gate; so that we drove under the shelter, and the horses, dripping with foam, were slipped out of the carriage, and left to cool under the shade of the trees, or rolled over in the dust, delighted to be free. as we advanced, our route wound among the hills. on our right was merapé, one of the great mountains of java--his top smoking gently, while rice-fields came up to his foot. this middle part of the island is called the garden of java, and it might be called one of the gardens of the world. nowhere in europe, not even in lombardy nor in england, have i seen a richer country. every foot of ground is in a high state of cultivation. not only are the plains and valleys covered with rice-fields, but the hills are terraced to admit of carrying the culture far up their sides. here, as in western java, it was the time of the harvest, and the fields were filled with joyous reapers. to this perfect tilling of the earth it is due that this island is one of the most populous portions of the globe. the country literally swarms with inhabitants, as a hive swarms with bees; but so few are their wants, that everybody seems to "live and be merry." we passed through a number of villages which, though the dwellings were of the rudest, yet had a pretty look, as they were embowered in foliage of palms and bamboos. as the country grew more hilly, our progress was not so swift. sometimes we went down a steep bank to cross a river on a boat, and then it was not an easy task to draw up the carriage on the opposite bank, and we had to call on cæsar for help. almost a whole village would turn out. at one time i counted eighteen men pushing and tugging at our wheels, of course with no eye to the small coin that was scattered among them when the top of the bank was reached. so great was the load of dignity we bore! at noon we reached the object of our journey in the famous ruins of borobodo. sir stamford raffles says that all the labor expended on the pyramids of egypt sinks into insignificance when compared with that bestowed on the grand architectural remains of java; but after seeing this, the greatest on the island, his estimate seems to me very extravagant. this is much smaller than the great pyramid, in the space of ground which it covers, and lower in height, and altogether less imposing. but without making comparisons, it is certainly a wonderful pile. it is a pyramid in shape, some four hundred feet square, and nine stories high, being ascended by a series of gigantic steps or terraces. that it was built for buddhist worship is evident from the figures of buddha which cover its sides. it is the monument not only of an ancient religion, but of an extinct civilization, of a mighty empire once throned on this island, which has left remains like those of ancient egypt. what a population and what power must have been here ages ago, to rear such a structure! one can imagine the people gathered at great festivals in numbers such as now assemble at pilgrimages in india. doubtless this hill of stone was often black with human beings (for as many could stand on its sides as could be gathered in the coliseum at rome), while on the open plain in front, stretching to a mountain in the background, a nation might have encamped, like the israelites before sinai, to receive the law. but the temple is in ruins, and there is no gathering of the people for worship any more. the religion of the island is changed. buddhism has passed away, and islam has taken its place, to pass away in its turn. it was good friday, in , that i stood on the top of this pyramid, and thought of him who on this day suffered for mankind, and whose religion is yet to possess the world. when it has conquered asia, it will cross the sea, and take this beautiful island, from which it may pass on to the mainland of the continent of australia. in such musings we lingered for hours, wandering about the ruins and enjoying the landscape, which is one of the most beautiful we have seen in all our travels--the wide sweep in the foreground reminding us of the view from stirling castle in scotland. but the carriage is waiting, and once more the driver cracks his whip, his horses prance, and away we fly along the roads, through the valleys, and over the hills. at evening we reached magellang, the centre of one of the districts into which java is divided, and a town of some importance. it is a curious geographical fact that it stands exactly in the centre of the island. one spot is called the navel of java. the javanese think a certain hill is the head of a great nail, which is driven into the earth and holds the island firm in its place. if this be so, it is strange that it does not keep it more quiet. for if we may use the language of the brokers, we might say with truth that in java "real estate is active," since it is well shaken up once or twice a year with earthquakes, and is all the time smouldering with volcanoes. but however agitated underground, the country is very beautiful above it. here as in all the places where the dutch "most do congregate," there is a mixture of european civilization with the easy and luxurious ways of the east. some of the villages are as pretty as any in our own new england, and reminded us of those in the connecticut valley, being laid out with a broad open square or common in the centre, which is shaded by magnificent trees, and surrounded by beautiful residences, whose broad verandas and open doors give a most inviting picture of domestic comfort and generous hospitality. there is a club-house for the officers, and music by the military band. the residents always live very handsomely. they are the great men in every district. each one has a spacious residence, with a military guard, and a salary of six or eight thousand dollars a year, with extras for the expense of entertaining or of travelling, and a liberal pension at the close of twenty years of service. magellang is marked with a white stone in our memories of java, as it was the scene of a novel experience. when we drove into the town, we found the hotel full, which obliged us to fall back upon our letter to the resident. he was absent, but his secretary at once took us in hand, and requested the "regent" (a native prince who holds office under the dutch government, and has special oversight of the native population) to entertain us. he responded in the most courteous manner, so that, instead of being lodged at a hotel, we were received as guests in a princely residence. his "palace" was in the eastern style, of but one story (as are most of the buildings in java, on account of earthquakes), but spread out over a large surface, with rows of columns supporting its ample roof, presenting in front in its open colonnade what might be regarded as a spacious hall of audience; and furnishing in its deep recesses a cool retreat from the heat of the tropical sun. a native guard pacing before the door indicated the official character of the occupant. the regent received us with dignity, but with great cordiality. he was attired in the rich costume of the east. his feet were without stockings, but encased in richly embroidered sandals. he could speak no english, and but a few words of french--only malay, dutch, and javanese. but he sent for a gentleman to dine, who was of spanish descent, and who, though a native of java, and had never been out of it, yet spoke both french and english, and thus we were able to converse. the regent had a wife, and after a time she entered the hall, and welcomed my niece with a cordiality almost like that of two school-girls meeting. she was simply dressed, in the lightest costume, with bare feet, but in gold-embroidered slippers. everything in her attire was very plain, except that her ears were hung with diamonds that fairly dazzled us with their brilliancy. she began talking with great volubility, and seemed not quite to comprehend why it was that we did not understand malay or javanese. however, with the help of our interpreter, we got along, and were soon in the most confidential relations. she had very vague ideas of the part of the world we came from. we tried to make her understand that the world was round, and that we lived on the other side of the globe. we asked why the regent did not go abroad to see the world? but she signified with a peculiar gesture, as if counting with her fingers, that it took a great deal of money. she asked "if we were rich," to which we replied modestly that we had enough for our wants. as she talked of family matters, she informed us that her lord had another wife. of this she spoke without the least reserve. it was quite natural that he should desire this. she (his first wife) had been married to him over twenty years, and was getting a little _passée_, and he needed a young face to make the house bright and gay. presently the second wife entered, and we were presented to her. she was very young--i should think not twenty years of age. evidently the elder occupied the first place in the household, and the younger took the second. they seemed to stand in a kind of sisterly relation to each other, without the slightest feeling of jealousy between them. both were very pretty, after the malayan type--that is, with mild, soft eyes, and skins, not black, like africans, but of a rich brown color. they would have been even beautiful if they had had also, what the africans so often have, dazzling white teeth; but this is prevented by the constant chewing of the betel-nut and tobacco. at half-past eight o'clock we went to dinner. c---- had the honor of sitting between the two wives, and enjoyed the courtesy of both, who prepared fruit for her, and by many little attentions, such as are understood in all parts of the world, showed that they belonged to the true sisterhood of woman. the position of woman in java is somewhat peculiar. the people are mohammedans, and yet the women are not secluded, nor do they veil their faces; they receive strangers in their houses and at their tables; thus they have much greater freedom than their sisters in turkey or egypt. the regent, being a mussulman, did not take wine, though he provided it for his guests. after the dinner, coffee was served, of a rich, delicious flavor--for java is the land of coffee--followed by the inevitable cigar. i do not smoke, but could not allow my refusal to interfere with the habits of those whose guest i was, and could but admire the ineffable satisfaction with which the regent and his friend puffed the fragrant weed. while they were thus wreathed in clouds, and floating in a perfect nirvana of material enjoyment, the gentler sex were not forgotten. the two wives took their pleasure in their own fashion. a small box, like a tea-caddy, was brought on the table, full of little silver cups and cases, containing leaves of the betel-nut, and spices, cassia and gambier, a little lime, and a cup of the finest tobacco. out of these they prepared a delicate morsel for their lips. with her own dainty fingers, each rolled up a leaf of the betel-nut, enclosing in it several kinds of spices, and filling it with a good pinch of tobacco, which, our spanish friend explained, was not so much for the taste, as to make the morsel plump and round, large enough to fill the mouth (or, as a wine-taster would say of his favorite madeira or port, to give it sufficient _body_); and also, he added, it was to clean the teeth, and to give an aromatic fragrance to the breath! i repeat, as exactly as i can recall them, his very words. whether the precious compound had all these virtues, certainly these courtly dames took it with infinite relish, and rolled it as a sweet morsel under their tongues, and looked on their lord with no jealousy of his enjoyment of his cigar. here was a picture of conjugal felicity. the family was evidently an affectionate and happy one. the regent loved both his wives, and they sat side by side without envy or uncharitableness, happy in the sunshine of his face, and chewed their betel-nut with a composure, an aspect of tranquil enjoyment, which many in more civilized countries may admire, but cannot equal. in the morning, when the family came together, i remarked that the first wife, who then apparently saw her husband for the first time, came forward, and bending low, kissed his jewelled hand; and soon after the second wife entered, and kissed the first wife's hand, thus observing that natural order of precedence which is so beautiful in every well-regulated family. i observed also with curious interest the relations of master and servant in this oriental household. the divisions are very marked. the regent, for example, is regarded by his retainers with an awe as if he were a sacred person. no one approaches him standing. the theory is, that no inferior must ever be in a position or attitude where his head is higher than his master's. if the regent but looks at a man, he drops as if shot with a bullet. if a servant wishes to communicate with his master, he falls, not on his knees, but on his haunches, and in this posture shuffles forward till he comes behind his chair, and meekly whispers a word into his ear. he receives his orders, and then shuffles back again. in one way, the division of ranks in java is more marked even than that of castes in india. the javanese language, which is a branch of the malay, has three separate forms of speech--one, that used by a superior addressing an inferior; second, that of an inferior addressing a superior; and a third, that used between equals. such divisions would seem to cut off all relations between those of different rank. and yet, with all this stooping and bowing, abject as it seems to us, the relation of the master to his dependants is rather patriarchal; and to these same servants the regent will speak, not only kindly, but familiarly, all the more so as the lines are so drawn that there is no danger that they should ever presume on undue familiarity. in the morning the regent took me out for a ramble. we strolled along under the trees, admiring the beauty of the country. after half an hour's walk, suddenly, like an apparition, an open phaeton stood beside us, with two beautiful ponies, into which the regent invited me to step, and taking his seat by my side, drove me about the town. we returned for breakfast, and then he sent for his musicians to give us a performance, who, beating on drums and other native instruments, executed a plaintive kind of music. with such attentions did this javanese prince and his wives (none of whom we had ever seen till a few hours before, and on whom we had no claim whatever) win our hearts by their kindness, so that, when the carriage came round to the door, we were sorry to depart. the regent pressed us to stay a month, or as long as we would. we could not accept a longer hospitality; but we shall remember that which we had. we keep his photograph, with others which we like to look upon; and if these words can reach the other side of the world, they will tell him that his american friends have not forgotten, and will not forget, the kind manner in which they were entertained in the island of java by the regent of magellang. the drive of to-day was hardly less interesting than that of yesterday, although our pride had a fall. it was a great come-down, after riding with six horses to be reduced to four! but the mortification was relieved by adding now and then, at the steep places, a pair of buffaloes. as we were still in the hill country, we were all day among the coffee plantations, which thrive best at a considerable elevation above the sea. other products of the island flourished around us in rich abundance: the spices--aloes and cassia, and nutmeg and pepper. and there was our old friend, the peanut. they were gathering perhaps the very nuts that were yet to ornament the stands of the apple-women of new york, and to be a temptation to bootblacks and newsboys. amid such fields and forests, over mountain roads, and listening to the roar of mountain streams, we came down to ambarrawa, a place of note in java, as containing the strongest fortress in the island. it is planted here right in the heart of middle java, where, half a century ago, was a formidable insurrection, which was quelled only after an obstinate contest, lasting five years--from to . ambarrawa is connected by railroad with samarang. it is easy to see that both the railroads which start from that point, and which have thus a base on the sea (the one leading to solo and jookja, the residences of the emperor and the sultan, who might make trouble, and the other to the great fortress of ambarrawa), have been constructed with a military as well as a commercial purpose. so the dutch have had their wars in java, as the english have had in india; but having conquered, it must be said that on the whole they have ruled wisely and well. the best proof of this is the perfect tranquillity that reigns everywhere, and that with no great display of armed force. what a contrast in this respect between the two most important islands in the east and west indies--java and cuba! they are about equal in the number of square miles. both have been settled by europeans for nearly three centuries, and yet to-day cuba has less than two millions of inhabitants, and is in a chronic state of insurrection; while java has over fifteen millions (or eight times as many), and is as quiet as holland itself. the whole story is told in one word--the one is dutch rule, and the other is spanish rule. we spent our easter in samarang--a day which is not forgotten in this part of the world, although sunday is not observed after the manner of scotland or new england, but rather of continental europe, with bands playing on the public square, and all the european world abroad keeping holiday. from samarang, another two days' sail along the same northern coast, with the grand outline of mountains on the horizon, brought us back to batavia. batavia was not the same to us on the second visit as on the first; or rather it was a great deal more, for now we knew the place, the streets were familiar, and we felt at home--the more so as a scotch gentleman, to whom we brought a letter from singapore, mr. james greig (of the old house of syme, pitcairn & co., so well known in the east), took us in charge, and carried us off to one of those large mansions which we had so much admired on our former visit, set far back from the street, and surrounded with trees; and constructed especially for this climate, with spacious rooms, wide hall, high ceilings, and broad veranda, and all the devices for mitigating the heat of the tropics. more than all, this hospitable mansion was lighted up by the sweetest feminine presence in one who, though of an old dutch family well known in java, had been educated in paris, and spoke english and french, as well as dutch and malay, and who gave us such a welcome as made us feel that we were not strangers. not only did these friends open their house to us, but devoted themselves till our departure in going about with us, and making our visit pleasant. i do not know whether to call this scotch or dutch hospitality, but it was certainly of the most delightful kind. as we had three or four days before the sailing of the french steamer for singapore, our friends planned an excursion into the mountains of western java, for which we returned to buitenzorg, and engaged a couple of _cahars_, carriages as light as if made of wicker-work, with the small javanese ponies, and thus mounted, began to climb the hills. our route was over the great post-road, which runs through the island to souraboya--a road which must have been constructed with immense labor, as it passes over high mountains, but which is as solidly built and as well kept as napoleon's great road over the simplon pass of the alps. indeed it is very much the same, having a rocky bed for its foundation, with a macadamized surface, over which the carriage rolls smoothly. but it does not climb so steadily upward as the simplon or the mont cenis. the ascent is not one long pull, like the ascent of the alps, but by a succession of hills, one beyond another, with many a deep valley between, so that we go alternately up hill and down dale. the hills are very steep, so that the post-carriage, which is as heavy and lumbering as a french diligence, has to be drawn up by buffaloes. thus it climbs slowly height after height, and when it has reached the summit, goes thundering down the mountain, and rolls majestically along the road. but our light carriages suited us much better than these ponderous vehicles; and as our little ponies trotted swiftly along, we were in a very gay mood, making the woods ring with our merry talk and glee. sometimes we got out to stretch our limbs with a good walk up the hills, turning as we reached the top to take in the landscape behind us, which spread out broader and broader, as we rose higher and higher. at every stage the view increased in extent and in majesty, till the whole island, "from the centre all round to the sea," was piled with mountains, which here, as in middle java, showed their volcanic origin by their forms, now rising in solitary cones, and now lying on the horizon in successive ridges, like mighty billows tossed up on a sea of fire, that in cooling had cracked in all fantastic shapes, which, after being worn down by the storms of thousands of years, were mantled thick with the verdure of forests. as in england the ivy creeps over old walls, covering ruined castles and towers with its perpetual green, so here the luxuriance of the tropics has overspread the ruin wrought by destroying elements. the effect is a mingled wildness and beauty in these mountain landscapes, which often reminded us of switzerland and the tyrol. the enjoyment of this ride was increased by the character of the day, which was not all sunshine, but one of perpetual change. clouds swept over the sky, casting shadows on the sides of the mountains and into the deep valleys. sometimes the higher summits were wrapped so as to be hidden from sight, and the rain fell heavily; then as the storm drifted away, and the sun burst through the parted clouds, the glorious heights shone in the sudden light like the delectable mountains. the object of our journey was a mountain retreat four thousand feet above the level of the sea--as high as the righi kulm, but in no other respect like that mountain-top, which from its height overlooks so many swiss lakes and cantons. it is rather like an alpine valley, surrounded by mountains. this is a favorite resort of the dutch from batavia. here the governor-general has a little box, to which he retires, from his grander residence at buitenzorg, and here many sick and wounded officers find a cool retreat and recover strength for fresh campaigns. the place bears the musical name of sindanglaya, which one would think might have been given with some reference to the music of murmuring winds and waters which fill the air. the valley is full of streams, of brooks and springs, that run among the hills. water, water everywhere! the rain pattering on the roof all night long carried me back to the days of my childhood, when i slept in a little cot under the eaves, and that sound was music to my ear. the scotch mist that envelopes the mountains might make the traveller fancy himself in the highlands; and so he might, as he seeks out the little "tarns" that have settled in the craters of extinct volcanoes, where not only wild deer break through the tangled wood of the leafy solitudes, but the tiger and the rhinoceros come to drink. streams run down the mountain-sides, and springs ooze from mossy banks by the roadside, and temper the air with their dripping coolness. what a place to rest! how this perfect quiet must bring repose to the brave fellows from acheen, and how sweet must sound this music of mountain streams to ears accustomed to the rude alarms of war! that we were in a new quarter of the world--far away, not only from america and europe, but even from asia--we were reminded by the line of telegraph which kept us company over the mountains, and which here crosses the island on its way to australia! it goes down the coast to bangaewangi, where it dives into the sea only to come up on the mainland of the great southern continent. indeed we were strongly advised to extend our journey around the world to australia, which we could have reached in much less time than it had taken to come from calcutta to singapore. but we were more interested to visit old countries and old nations than to set foot on a virgin continent, and to see colonies and cities, which, with all their growth, could only be a smaller edition of what we have so abundantly in the new states of america. we were now within a few miles of the southern ocean, the greatest of all the oceans that wrap their watery mantle around the globe. from the top of the gédé, a mountain which rose above us, one may look off upon an ocean broader than the pacific--a sea without a shore--whose waters roll in an unbroken sweep to the antarctic pole. from all these seas and shores, and woods and waters, we now turned away, and with renewed delight in the varied landscapes, rode back over the mountains to buitenzorg, and came down by rail to batavia. before i depart from this pleasant land of java, i must say a word about the dutch and their position in south-eastern asia. the dutch have had possession of java over years--since --without interruption, except from to , when napoleon had taken holland; and as england was using all her forces on land and sea to cripple the french empire in different parts of the world, she sent a fleet against java. it yielded almost without opposition; indeed many of the dutch regarded the surrender as simply placing the island under british protection, which saved it from the french. for five years it had an english governor, sir stamford raffles, who has written a large work on java. after the fall of napoleon, england restored java to the dutch, but kept ceylon, malacca, and the cape of good hope. thus the dutch have lost some of their possessions in the east, and yet holland is to-day the second colonial power in the world, being inferior only to england. the dutch flag in the east waves not only over java, but over almost the whole of the malayan archipelago, which, with the intervening waters, covers a portion of the earth's surface larger than all europe. there are some peculiar physical features in this part of the world. the malayan archipelago lies midway between asia and australia, belonging to neither, and yet belonging to both. it is a very curious fact, brought out by wallace, whose great work on "the malayan archipelago" is altogether the best on the subject, that this group of islands is in itself divided by a very narrow space between the two continents, which it at once separates and unites. each has its own distinct fauna and flora. the narrow strait of bali, only fifteen miles wide, which separates the two small islands of bali and lombok, separates two distinct animal and vegetable kingdoms, which are as unlike as are those of the united states and brazil. one group belongs to asia, the other to australia. sumatra is full of tigers; in borneo there is not one. australia has no carnivora--no beasts that prey on flesh--but chiefly marsupials, such as kangaroos. there are a good many residents in the east who think holland, in the management of her dependencies, has shown a better political economy than england has shown in india. an english writer (a mr. money), in a volume entitled "how to govern a colony," has brought some features of the dutch policy to the notice of his countrymen. i will mention but one as an illustration. half a century ago java was very much run down. a native rebellion which lasted five years had paralyzed the industry of the country. to reanimate it, a couple of years after the rebellion had been subdued, in , the home government began a very liberal system of stimulating production by making advances to planters, and guaranteeing them labor to cultivate their estates. the effect was marvellous. by that wise system of helping those who had not means to help themselves, a new life was at once infused into all parts of the island. out of that has grown the enormous production of coffee, sugar, and tobacco. now java not only pays all the expenses of her own government, (which india does not do, at least without contracting very heavy loans,) but builds her own railroads, and other roads and bridges, and supplies the drain of the acheen war, and remits every year millions to the hague to build railroads in holland. is it too much to believe that there is a great future in store for south eastern asia? we talk about the future of america. but ours is not the only continent that offers vast unoccupied wastes to the habitation of man. besides australia, there are these great islands nearer to asia, which, from the overflow of india and china, may yet have a population that shall cultivate their waste places. i found in burmah a great number of bengalees and madrasees, who had crossed the bay of bengal to seek a home in farther india; while the chinese, who form the population of singapore, had crept up the coast. they are here in java, in every seaport and in every large town in the interior, and there is every reason to suppose that there will be a yet greater overflow of population in this direction. sumatra and borneo are not yet inhabited and cultivated like java, but in their great extent they offer a magnificent seat for future kingdoms or empires, which, asiatic in population, may be governed by european laws, and moulded by european civilization. one thing more before we cross the equator--a word about nature and life in the tropics. i came to java partly to see the tropical vegetation, of which we saw but little in india, as we were there in winter, which is at once the cold and the dry season, when vegetation withers, and the vast plains are desolate and dreary. nature then holds herself in reserve, waiting till the rains come, when the earth will bloom again. but as i could not wait for the change of seasons, i must needs pass on to a land where the change had already come. we marked the transition as we came down the bay of bengal. there were signs of changing seasons and a changing nature. we were getting into the rainy belt. in the straits of malacca the air was hot and thunderous, and we had frequent storms; the heavens were full of rain, and the earth was fresh with the joy of a newly-opened spring. but still we kept on till we crossed the equator. here in java the rainy season was just over. it ends with the last of march, and we arrived at the beginning of april. for months the windows of heaven had been opened, the rains descended, and the floods came; and lo! the land was like the garden of the lord. here we had at last the tropical vegetation in its fullest glory. nothing can exceed the prodigality and luxuriance of nature when a vertical sun beats down on fields and forests and jungles that have been drenched for months in rain. vegetation of every kind springs up, as in the temperate zone it appears only when forced in heated conservatories (as in the duke of devonshire's gardens at chatsworth), and the land waves with these luxuriant growths. in the forest creeping plants wind round the tall trunks, and vines hang in festoons from tree to tree. but while the tropical forest presents such a wild luxuriance of growth, i find no single trees of such stature as i have seen in other parts of the world. except an occasional broad-spreading banyan, i have seen nothing which, standing alone, equals in its solitary majesty the english oak or the american elm. perhaps there is a difference in this respect between countries in the same latitude in the eastern and western hemispheres. an english gentleman whom we found here in charge of a great sugar plantation, who had spent some years in rio janeiro, told me that the trees of java did not compare in majesty with those of brazil. nor is this superiority confined to south america. probably no trees now standing on the earth equal the big trees of california. and besides these there are millions of lofty pines on the sides of the sierra nevada, which i have seen nowhere equalled unless it be in the mighty cedars which line the great tokaido of japan. on the whole, i am a little inclined to boast that trees attain their greatest height and majesty in our western hemisphere. but the glory of the tropics is in the universal life of nature, spreading through all her realms, stirring even under ground, and causing to spring forth new forms of vegetation, which coming up, as it were, out of the darkness of the grave, seek the sun and air, whereby all things live. of course one cannot but consider what effect this marvellous production must have upon man. too often it overpowers him, and makes him its slave, since he cannot be its master. this is the terror of the tropics, as of the polar regions, that nature is too strong for man to subdue her. what can he do--poor, puny creature--against its terrible forces; against the heat of a vertical sun, that while it quickens the earth, often blasts the strength of man, subduing his energy, if not destroying his life? what can man do in the arctic circle against the cold that locks up whole continents in ice? much as he boasts of his strength and of his all-conquering will, he is but a child in the lap of nature, tossed about by material forces as a leaf is blown by the wind. the best region for human development and energy is the temperate zone, where nature stimulates, but does not overpower, the energies of man, where the winter's cold does not benumb him and make him sink into torpor, but only pricks him to exertion and makes him quicken his steps. the effect of this fervid climate shows itself not only upon natives, but upon europeans. it induces a languor and indisposition to effort. it has two of the hardest and toughest races in the world to work upon, in the english in india and the dutch in java, and yet it has its effect even upon them, and would have a still greater were it not that this foreign element is constantly changing, coming and going, whereby there is all the time a fresh infusion of european life. here in java the dutch have been longer settled than the english in india; they more often remain in the island, and the effect of course is more marked from generation to generation. the dutchman is a placid, easy-going creature, even in his native holland, except when roused by some great crisis, like a spanish invasion, and then he fights with a courage which has given him a proud name in history. but ordinarily he is of a calm and even temper, and likes to sit quietly and survey his broad acres, and smoke his pipe in blissful content with himself and all the world beside. when he removes from holland to the other side of the world, he has not changed his nature; he is a dutchman still, only with his natural love of ease increased by life in the tropics. it is amusing to see how readily his dutch nature falls in with the easy ways of this eastern world. if i were to analyze existence, or material enjoyment in this part of the world, i should say that the two great elements in one's life, or at least in his comfort, are sleep and smoke. they smoke in holland, and they have a better right to smoke in java; for here they but follow the course of nature. why should not man smoke, when even the earth itself respires through smoke and flame? the mountains smoke, and why not the dutch? only there is this difference: the volcanoes sometimes have a period of rest, but the dutch never. morning, noon, and night, before breakfast and after dinner, smoke, smoke, smoke! it seems to be a dutchman's ideal of happiness. i have been told of some who dropped to sleep with the cigar in their lips, and of one who required his servants to put his pipe between his teeth while he was yet sleeping, that he might wake up with the right taste in his mouth. it seemed to me that this must work injury to their health, but they think not. perhaps there is something in the phlegmatic dutch temperament that can stand this better than the more mercurial and excitable english or american. and then how they do sleep! sleep is an institution in java, and indeed everywhere in the tropics. the deep stillness of the tropical noon seems to prescribe rest, for then nature itself sinks into repose. scarcely a leaf moves in the forest--the birds cease their musical notes, and seek for rest under the shade of motionless palms. the sleep of the dutch is like this stillness of nature. it is profound and absolute repose. for certain hours of the day no man is visible. i had a letter to the resident of solo, and went to call on him at two o'clock. he lived in a grand government house, or palace; but an air of somnolence pervaded the place, as if it were the castle of indolence. the very servant was asleep on the marble pavement, where it was his duty to keep watch; and when i sent in my letter, he came back making a very significant gesture, leaning over his head to signify that his master was asleep. at five o'clock i was more fortunate, but even then he was dressed with a lightness of costume more suitable for one who was about to enter his bath than to give audience. there is a still graver question for the moralist to consider--the effect of these same physical influences upon human character. no observer of men in different parts of the world can fail to see that different races have been modified by climate, not only in color and features, but in temperament, in disposition, and in character. a hot climate makes hot blood. burning passions do but reflect the torrid sun. what the spaniard is in europe, the malay is in asia. there is a deep philosophy in the question of byron: "know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime, where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime?" but i must not wander into deep philosophy. i only say that great as is the charm of life in the tropics, it is not without alloy. in landing in java it seemed as if we had touched the shores of some enchanted island, as if we had found the garden of paradise lying far off in these southern seas. we had come to the land of perpetual spring and perpetual summer, where nature is always in bloom, and frost and snow and hail have fled away to the bleak and wintry north. but as we are obliged to go back to that north, we wish to be reconciled to it. we find that one may have too much even of paradise. there is a monotony in perpetual summer. the only change of seasons here is from the dry season to the rainy season; and the only difference between these, so far as we can see, is that in the dry season it rains, and in the rainy season it pours. we have been here in the dry season, and yet we have had frequent showers, with occasional thunderstorms. if we should stay here a year, we should weary of this unrelieved monotony of sun and rain. we should long for some more marked change of seasons, for the autumn leaves and the winter winds, and the gradual coming on of spring, and all those insensible gradations of nature which make the glory of the full round year. and what a loss should we find in the absence of twilight. java, being almost under the equator, the days and nights are almost equal throughout the year; there are no short days and no long days. day and night come on suddenly--not instantly, but in a few minutes the night breaks into the full glare of day, and the day as quickly darkens into night. how we should miss the long summer twilight, which in our northern latitudes lingers so softly and tenderly over the quiet earth. remembering these things, we are reconciled to our lot in living in the temperate zone, and turn away even from the soft and easy life of the tropics, to find a keener delight in our rugged clime, and to welcome even the snow-drifts and the short winter days, since they bring the long winter evenings, and the roaring winter fires! we leave java, therefore, not so much with regret that we can no longer sit under the palm groves, and indulge in the soft and easy life of the tropics, as that we part from friends. our last night in batavia they took us to a representation given by amateurs at the english club, where it was very pleasant to see so many english faces in this distant part of the world, and to hear our own mother tongue. the next morning they rode down with us to the quay, and came off to the steamer, and did not leave us till it was ready to move; and it was with a real sadness that we saw them over the ship's side, and watched their fluttering signals as they sailed back to the shore. these partings are the sore pain of travel. but the friendships remain, and are delightful in memory. a pleasure past is a pleasure still. even now it gives us a warm feeling at the heart to think of those kind friends on the other side of the globe. chapter xxiv. up the china seas--hong kong and canton. in singapore, as in batavia, the lines fell to us in pleasant places. an english merchant, mr. james graham, carried us off to his hospitable bungalow outside the town, where we passed four days. it stood on a hill, from which we looked off on one side to the harbor, where were riding the ships of all nations, and on the other to an undulating country, with here and there an english residence embowered in trees. in this delightful retreat our hosts made us feel perfectly at home. we talked of england and america; we romped with the children; we played croquet on the lawn; we received calls from the neighbors, and went out to "take tea" in the good old-fashioned way. we attended service, the sunday before going to java, in the cathedral, and on our return, in the scotch church; so that around us, even at this extremity of asia, were the faces and voices, the happy domestic life, and the religious worship, of dear old england. but just as we began to settle into this quiet life, the steamer was signalled from ceylon which was to take us to china, and we had to part from our new friends. it had been in my plan to go from here to siam. it is but three days' sail from singapore up the gulf to bangkok; but it is not so easy to get on from there. could we have been sure of a speedy passage to saigon, to connect with the french steamer, we should not have hesitated; but without this, we might be detained for a week or two, or be obliged to come back to singapore. thus uncertain, we felt that it was safer to take the steamer direct for hong kong, though it was a sore disappointment to pass across the head of the gulf of siam, knowing that we were so near the land of the white elephant, and leave it unvisited. the china seas have a very bad name among sailors and travellers, as they are often swept by terrible cyclones; but we crossed at a favorable season, and escaped. the heat was great, and passengers sat about on deck in their easy cane chairs, as on the red sea; but beyond that, we experienced not so much discomfort as on the mediterranean. on the sixth morning we saw in the distance an island, which, as we drew nearer, rose up so steeply and so high that it appeared almost like a mountain. this was the peak of hong kong--a signal-station from which men, with their glasses, can look far out to sea, and as soon as one of the great steamers is descried on the horizon, a flag is run up and a gun fired to convey the news to the city below. coming up behind the island, we swept around its point, and saw before us a large town, very picturesquely situated on the side of a hill, rising street above street, and overlooking a wide bay shut in by hills, so that it is sheltered from the storms that vex the china seas. the harbor was full of foreign ships, among which were many ships of war (as this is the rendezvous of the british fleet in these waters), which were firing salutes; among those flying the flags of all nations was one modest representative of our country, of which we did not need to be ashamed--the kearsarge. we afterwards went on board of her, and saw and stroked with affection, mingled with pride, the big gun that sunk the alabama. hong kong, like singapore, is an english colony, but with a chinese population. you can hardly set foot on shore before you are snapped up by a couple of lusty fellows, with straw hats as large as umbrellas on their heads, and who, though in bare feet, stand up as straight as grenadiers, and as soon as you take your seat in a chair, lift the bamboo poles to their shoulders, and walk off with you on the double-quick. no country which we see for the first time is exactly as we supposed it to be. somehow i had thought of china as a vast plain like india; and behold! the first view reveals a wild, mountainous coast. as we climb victoria peak above hong kong, and look across to the mainland, we see only barren hills--a prospect almost as desolate as that of the arabian shores on the red sea. but what wonders lie beyond that great wall of mountains which guards this part of the coast of china! one cannot be in sight of such a country without an eager impulse to be in it, and after two or three days of rest we set out for canton, which is only eight hours distant. our boat was an american one, with an american captain, who took us into the wheel-house, and pointed out every spot of interest as we passed through the islands and entered the canton river. forty miles south is the old portuguese port of macao. at the mouth of the river are the bogue forts, which played such a part in the english war of , but which were sadly battered, and now lie dismantled and ungarrisoned. going by the stately second bar pagoda, we next pass whampoa, the limit to which foreign vessels could come before the treaty ports were opened. as we ascend the river, it is crowded with junks--strange craft, high at both ends, armed with old rusty cannon, with which to beat off the pirates that infest these seas, and ornamented at the bow with huge round eyes, that stand out as if from the head of some sea-monster, some terrible dragon, which keeps watch over the deep. amid such fantastic barks, with their strange crews, we steamed up to canton. at the landing, a son of dr. happer, the american missionary, came on board with a letter from his father inviting us to be his guests, and we accordingly took a native boat, and were rowed up the river. our oarsman was a woman, who, besides the trifle of rowing our boat up the stream, had a baby strapped on her back! perhaps the weight helped her to keep her balance as she bent to the oar. but it was certainly bringing things to a pretty fine point when human muscles were thus economized. this boat, well called in chinese a _tan-ka_ or egg-house, was the home of the family. it sheltered under its little bamboo cover eight souls (as many as noah had in the ark), who had no other habitation. here they ate and drank and slept; here perhaps children were born and old men died. in canton it is estimated that a hundred and fifty thousand people thus live in boats, leading a kind of amphibious existence. above the landing is the island of shameen, a mile long, which is the foreign quarter, where are the hongs, or factories, of the great tea-merchants, and where live the wealthy foreign residents. rounding this island, we drew up to the quay, in front of dr. happer's door, where we found that welcome which is never wanting under the roof of an american missionary. dr. happer has lived here thirty-two years, and was of course familiar with every part of canton, and was an invaluable guide in the explorations of the next three or four days. when we were in paris, we met dr. wells williams, the well-known missionary, who had spent over forty years in china, twelve of them in peking, of which he said, that apart from its being the capital, it had little to interest a stranger--at least not enough to repay the long journey to reach it. he said it would take a month to go from shanghai to tientsin, and then cross the country cramped up in carts to peking, and visit the great wall, and return to shanghai. canton was not only much nearer, but far more interesting, and the best representative of a chinese city in the empire. the next morning we began our excursions, not with horses and chariots, but with coolies and chairs. an english gentleman and his wife, who had come with us from singapore, joined us, making, with a son of dr. happer and the guide, a party of six, for whom eighteen bearers drew up before the door, forming quite a procession as we filed through the streets. the motion was not unpleasant, though they swung us along at a good round pace, shouting to the people to get out of the way, who forthwith parted right and left, as if some high mandarin were coming. the streets were narrow and densely crowded. through such a mass it required no small effort to force our way, which was effected only by our bearers keeping up a constant cry, like that of the gondoliers in venice, when turning a corner in the canals--a signal of warning to any approaching in the opposite direction. i could but admire the good-nature of the people, who yielded so readily. if we were thus to push through a crowd in new york, and the policemen were to shout to the "bowery boys" to "get out of the way," we might receive a "blessing" in reply that would not be at all agreeable. but the chinamen took it as a matter of course, and turned aside respectfully to give us a passage, only staring mildly with their almond eyes, to see what great personages were these that came along looking so grand. our way led through the longest street of the city, which bears the sounding name of the street of benevolence and love. this is the broadway of canton, only it is not half as wide as broadway. it is very narrow, like some of the old streets of genoa, and paved, like them, with huge slabs of stone. on either side it is lined with shops, into which we had a good opportunity to look as we brushed past them, for they stood wide open. they were of the smallest dimensions, most of them consisting of a single room, even when hung with beautiful embroideries. there may be little recesses behind, hidden interiors where they live, though apparently we saw the whole family. in many shops they were taking their meals in full sight of the passers-by. there was no variety of courses; a bowl of rice in the centre of the table was the universal dish (for rice is the staff of life in asia, as bread is in america), garnished perchance with some "little pickle," in the shape of a bit of fish and soy, to serve _as a sauce piquante_ to stimulate the flagging appetite. but apparently they needed no appetizer, for they plied their chop-sticks with unfailing assiduity. our first day's ride was probably ten or twelve miles, and took us through such "heavenly streets" as we never knew before, and did not expect to walk in till we entered the gates of the new jerusalem. besides the street of benevolence and love, which might be considered the great highway of the celestial city, there were streets which bore the enrapturing names of "peace," "bright cloud," and "longevity;" of "early-bestowed blessings" and of "everlasting love;" of "one hundred grandsons" and (more ambitious still) of "one thousand grandsons;" of "five happinesses" and of "refreshing breezes;" of "accumulated blessings" and of "ninefold brightness." there was a "dragon street," and others devoted to "the ascending dragon," "the saluting dragon," and "the reposing dragon;" while other titles came probably a little nearer the plain fact, such as "the market of golden profits." all the shops have little shrines near the door dedicated to _tsai shin_, or the god of wealth, to whom the shopkeepers offer their prayers every day. i think i have heard of prayers offered to that divinity in other countries, and no one could doubt that these prayers at least were fervent and sincere. but names do not always designate realities, and though we passed through the street of a "thousand beatitudes" and that of a "thousandfold peace," we saw sorrow and misery enough before the day was done. one gets an idea of the extent of a city not only by traversing its streets, but by ascending some high point in the vicinity that overlooks it. the best point for such a bird's-eye view is the five-storied pagoda, from which the eye ranges over a distance of many miles, including the city and the country around to the mountains in the distance, with the broad river in front, and the suburb on the other side. the appearance of canton is very different from that of a european city. it has no architectural magnificence. there are some fine houses of the rich merchants, built of brick, with spacious rooms and courts; but there are no great palaces towering over the city--no domes like st. paul's in london, or st. peter's in rome, nor even like the domes and minarets of constantinople. the most imposing structure in view is the new roman catholic cathedral. here and there a solitary pagoda rises above the vast sea of human dwellings, which are generally of but one, seldom two stories in height, and built very much alike; for there is the same monotony in the chinese houses as in the figures and costumes of the chinese themselves. nor is this level surface relieved by any variety of color. the tiled roofs, with their dead color, but increase the sombre impression of the vast dull plain; yet beneath such a pall is a great city, intersected by hundreds of streets, and occupied by a million of human beings. the first impression of a chinese city is of its myriad, multitudinous life. there are populous cities in europe, and crowded streets; but here human beings _swarm_, like birds in the air or fishes in the sea. the wonder is how they all live; but that is a mystery which i could not solve in london any more than here. there is one street a mile long, which has in it nothing but shoemakers. the people amused us very much by their strange appearance and dress, in both which china differs wholly from the orient. a chinaman is not at all like a turk. he does not wear a turban, nor even a long, flowing beard. his head is shaved above and below--face, chin, and skull--and instead of the patriarchal beard before him, he carries only a pigtail behind. the women whom we met in the streets (at least those of any position, for only the common work-women let their feet grow) hobbled about on their little feet, which were like dolls' feet--a sight that was half ludicrous and half painful. but if we were amused at the chinese, i dare say they were as much amused at us. the people of canton ought by this time to be familiar with white faces. but, strange to say, wherever we went we attracted a degree of attention which had never been accorded us before in any foreign city. boys ran after us, shouting as they ran. if the chairs were set down in the street, as we stopped to see a sight, a crowd gathered in a moment. there was no rudeness, but mere curiosity. if we went into a temple, a throng collected about the doors, and looked in at the windows, and opened a passage for us as we came out, and followed us till we got into our chairs and disappeared down the street. the ladies of our party especially seemed to be objects of wonder. they did not hobble on the points of their toes, but stood erect, and walked with a firm step. their free and independent air apparently inspired respect. the children seemed to hesitate between awe and terror. one little fellow i remember, who dared to approach too near, and whom my niece cast her eye upon, thought that he was done for, and fled howling. i have no doubt all reported, when they went home, that they had seen some strange specimens of "foreign devils." but the chinese are a highly civilized people. in some things, indeed, they are mere children, compared with europeans; but in others they are in advance of us, especially those arts which require great delicacy, such as the manufacture of some kinds of jewelry, exquisite trinkets in gold and silver, in which canton rivals delhi and lucknow, and in the finest work in ivory and in precious woods; also in those which require a degree of patience to be found nowhere except among asiatics. for example, i saw a man carving an elephant's tusk, which would take him a whole year! the chinese are also exquisite workers in bronze, as well as in porcelain, in which they have such a conceded mastery that specimens of "old china" ornament every collection in europe. their silks are as rich and fine as any that are produced from the looms of lyons or antwerp. this need not surprise us, for we must remember the great antiquity of china; that the chinese were a highly civilized people when our ancestors, the britons, were barbarians. they had the art of printing and the art of gunpowder long before they were known in europe. chinese books are in some respects a model for ours now, not only in cheapness, but in their extreme lightness, being made of thin bamboo paper, so that a book weighs in the hand hardly more than a newspaper. of course every stranger must make the round of temples and pagodas, of which there are enough to satisfy any number of worshippers. there is a temple of the five genii, and one of the five hundred arhans, or scholars of buddha. there is a temple of confucius, and a temple of the emperor, where the mandarins go and pay to his majesty and to the sage an homage of divine adoration. i climbed up into his royal seat, and thought i was quite as fit an object of worship as he! there is a temple of horrors, which outdoes the "chamber of horrors" in madame tussaud's famous exhibition of wax-works in london. it is a representation of all the torments which are supposed to be endured by the damned, and reminds one of those frightful pictures painted in the middle ages in some roman catholic countries, in which heretics are seen in the midst of flames, tossed about by devils on pitchforks. but the chinese soften the impression. to restore the balance of mind, terrified by these frightful representations, there is a temple of longevity, in which there is a figure of buddha, such as the ancient romans might have made of bacchus or silenus--a mountain of flesh, with fat eyes, laughing mouth, and enormous paunch. even the four kings of heaven, that rule over the four points of the compass--north, south, east, and west--have much more of an earthly than a heavenly look. all these figures are grotesque and hideous enough; but to their credit be it said, they are not obscene, like the figures in the temples of india. here we made the same observation as in burmah, that buddhism is a much cleaner and more decent religion than hindooism. this is to its honor. "buddhism," says williams, "is the least revolting and impure of all false religions." its general character we have seen elsewhere. its precepts enjoin self-denial and practical benevolence. it has no cruel or bloody rites, and nothing gross in its worship. of its priests, some are learned men, but the mass are ignorant, yet sober and inoffensive. at least they are not a scandal to their faith, as are the priests of some forms of christianity. that the chinese are imbued with religious ideas is indicated in the very names of the streets already mentioned, whereby, though in a singular fashion, they commemorate and glorify certain attributes of character. the idea which seems most deep-rooted in their minds is that of retribution according to conduct. the maxim most frequent in their mouths is that good actions bring their own reward, and bad actions their own punishment. this idea was very pithily expressed by the famous hong-merchant, howqua, in reply to an american sea-captain, who asked him his idea of future rewards and punishments, to which he replied in pigeon-english: "a man do good, he go to joss; he no do good, very much bamboo catchee he!" but we will leave the temples with their grinning idols; as we leave the restaurants, where lovers of dainty dishes are regaled with dogs and cats; and the opium-shops, where the chinese loll and smoke till they are stupefied by the horrid drug; for canton has something more attractive. we found a very curious study in the examination hall, illustrating, as it does, the chinese manner of elevating men to office. we hear much in our country of "civil service reform," which some innocently suppose to be a new discovery in political economy--an american invention. but the chinese have had it for a thousand years. here appointments to office are made as the result of a competitive examination; and although there may be secret favoritism and bribery, yet the theory is one of perfect equality. in this respect china is the most absolute democracy in the world. there is no hereditary rank or order of nobility; the lowest menial, if he has native talent, may raise himself by study and perseverance to be prime minister of the empire. in the eastern quarter of canton is an enclosure of many acres, laid off in a manner which betokens some unusual purpose. the ground is divided by a succession of long, low buildings, not much better than horse-sheds around a new england meeting-house of the olden time. they run in parallel lines, like barracks for a camp, and are divided into narrow compartments. once in three years this vast camping-ground presents an extraordinary spectacle, for then are gathered in these courts, from all parts of the province, some ten thousand candidates, all of whom have previously passed a first examination, and received a degree, and now appear to compete for the second. some are young, and some are old, for there is no limit put upon age. as the candidates present themselves, each man is searched, to see that he has no books, or helps of any kind, concealed upon his person, and then put into a stall about three feet wide, just large enough to turn around in, and as bare as a prisoner's cell. there is a niche in the wall, in which a board can be placed for him to sit upon, and another niche to support a board that has to serve as breakfast-table and writing-table. this is the furniture of his room. here he is shut in from all communication with the world, his food being passed to him through the door, as to a prisoner. certain themes are then submitted to him in writing, on which he is to furnish written essays, intended generally, and perhaps always, to determine his knowledge of the chinese classics. it is sometimes said that these are frivolous questions, the answers to which afford no proof whatever of one's capacity for office; but it should be remembered that these classics are the writings of confucius, which are the political ethics of the country, the very foundation of the government, without knowing which one is not qualified to take part in its administration. the candidate goes into his cell in the afternoon, and spends the night there, which gives him time for reflection, and all the next day and the next night, when he comes out, and after a few days is put in again for another trial of the same character; and this is repeated a third time; at the end of which he is released from solitary confinement, and his essays are submitted for examination. of the ten thousand, only seventy-five can obtain a degree--not one in a hundred! the nine thousand and nine hundred must go back disappointed, their only consolation being that after three years they can try again. even the successful ones do not thereby get an office, but only the right to enter for a third competition, which takes place at peking, by which of course their ranks are thinned still more. the few who get through this threefold ordeal take a high place in the literary or learned class, from which all appointments to the public service are made. here is the system of examination complete. no trial can be imagined more severe, and it ought to give the chinese the best civil service in the world. may we not get a hint from this for our instruction in america, where some of our best men are making earnest efforts for civil service reform? if the candidates, who flock to washington at the beginning of each administration, were to be put into cells, and fed on bread and water, it might check the rage for office, and the number of applicants might be diminished; and if they were required to pass an examination, and to furnish written essays, showing at least some degree of knowledge of political affairs, we might have a more intelligent class of officials to fill consular posts in different parts of the world. but, unfortunately, it might be answered that examinations, be they ever so strict, do not change human nature, nor make men just or humane; and that even the rigid system of china does not restrain rulers from corruption, nor protect the people from acts of oppression and cruelty. three spots in canton had for me the fascination of horror--the court, the prison, and the execution ground. i had heard terrible tales of the trial by torture--of men racked to extort the secrets of crime, and of the punishments which followed. these stories haunted me, and i hoped to find some features which would relieve the impression of so much horror. i wished to see for myself the administration of justice--to witness a trial in a chinese court. a few years ago this would have been impossible; foreigners were excluded from the courts. but now they are open, and all can see who have the nerve to look on. therefore, after we had made a long circuit through the streets of canton, i directed the bearers to take us to the yamun, the hall of justice. leaving our chairs in the street, we passed through a large open court into a hall in the rear, where at that very moment several trials were going on. the court-room was very plain. a couple of judges sat behind tables, before whom a number of prisoners were brought in. the mode of proceeding was very foreign to american or european ideas. there was neither jury nor witnesses. this simplified matters exceedingly. there is no trial by jury in china. while we haggle about impanelling juries and getting testimony, and thus trials drag on for weeks, in china no such obstacle is allowed to impede the rapid course of justice; and what is more, there are no lawyers to perplex the case with their arguments, but the judge has it all his own way. he is simply confronted with the accused, and they have it all between them. while we stood here, a number of prisoners were brought in; some were carried in baskets (as they are borne to execution), and dumped on the stone pavement like so many bushels of potatoes; others were led in with chains around their necks. as each one's name was called, he came forward and fell on his knees before the judge, and lifted up his hands to beg for mercy. he was then told of the crime of which he was accused, and given opportunity if he had anything to say in his own defence. there was no apparent harshness or cruelty towards him, except that he was presumed to be guilty, unless he could prove his innocence; contrary to the english maxim of law, that a man is to be presumed innocent until he is proved guilty. in this, however, the chinese practice is not very different from that which exists at this day in so enlightened a country as france. for example, two men were accused of being concerned together in a burglary. as they were from another prefecture, where there is another dialect, they had to be examined through an interpreter. the judge wished to find out who were leagued with them, and therefore questioned them separately. each was brought in in a basket, chained and doubled up, so that he sat helplessly. no witness was examined, but the man himself was simply interrogated by the judge. in another case, two men were accused of robbery with violence--a capital offence, but by the chinese law no man can be punished with death unless he confesses his crime; hence every means is employed to lead a criminal to acknowledge his guilt. of course in a case of life and death he will deny it as long as he can. but if he will not confess, the court proceeds to take stringent measures to _make_ him confess, for which purpose these two men were now put to the torture. the mode of torture was this: there were two round pillars in the hall. each man was on his knees, with his feet chained behind him, so that he could not stir. he was then placed with his back to one of these columns, and small cords were fastened around his thumbs and great toes, and drawn back tightly to the pillar behind. this soon produced intense suffering. their breasts heaved, the veins on their foreheads stood out like whipcords, and every feature betrayed the most excruciating agony. every few minutes an officer of the court asked if they were ready to confess, and as often they answered, "no; never would they confess that they had committed such a crime." they were told if they did not confess, they would be subjected to still greater torture. but they still held out, though every moment seemed an hour of pain. while these poor wretches were thus writhing in agony, i turned to the judge to see how he bore the spectacle of such suffering. he sat at his table quite unmoved; yet he did not seem like a brutal man, but like a man of education, such as one might see on the bench in england or america. he seemed to look upon it as in the ordinary course of proceedings, and a necessary step in the conviction of a criminal. he used no bravado, and offered no taunt or insult. but the cries of the sufferers did not move him, nor prevent his taking his accustomed ease. he sat fanning himself and smoking his pipe, as if he said he could stand it as long as they could. of course he knew that, as their heads were at stake, they would deny their guilt till compelled to yield; but he seemed to look upon it as simply a question of endurance, in which, if he kept on long enough, there could be but one issue. but still the men did not give in, and i looked at them with amazement mingled with horror, to see what human nature could endure. the sight was too painful to witness more than a few moments, and i rushed away, leaving the men still hanging to the pillars of torture. i confess i felt a relief when i went back the next day, to hear that they had not yielded, but held out unflinchingly to the last. horrible as this seems, i have heard good men--men of humanity--argue in favor of torture, at least "when applied in a mild way." they affirm that in china there can be no administration of justice without it. in a country where testimony is absolutely worthless--where as many men can be hired to swear falsely for ten cents apiece as you have money to buy--there is no possible way of arriving at the truth but by _extorting_ it. no doubt it is a rough process, but it secures the result. as it happened, the english gentleman who accompanied us was a magistrate in india, and he confirmed the statement as to the difficulty, and in many cases the impossibility, of getting at the truth, because of the unfathomable deceit of the natives. many cases came before him in which he was sure a witness was lying, but he was helpless to prove it, when a little gentle application of the thumbscrew, or even a good whipping, would have brought out the truth, which, for want of it, could not be discovered. to the objection that such methods may coerce the innocent as well as the guilty--that the pain may be so great that innocent men will confess crimes that they never committed, rather than suffer tortures worse than death--the answer is, that as guilt makes men cowards, the guilty will give up, while the innocent hold out. but this is simply trusting to the trial by lot. it is the old ordeal by fire. a better answer is, that the court has beforehand strong presumptive evidence of the crime, and that a prisoner is not put to the torture until it has been well ascertained by testimony obtained elsewhere that he is a great offender. when it is thus determined that he is a robber or a murderer, who ought not to live, then this last step is taken to compel him to acknowledge his guilt, and the justice of his condemnation. but there are cases in which a man may be wrongfully accused; an enemy may bribe a witness to make a complaint against him, upon which he is arrested and cast into prison. then, unless he can bring some powerful influence to rescue him, his case is hopeless. he denies his guilt, and is put to the rack for an offence of which he is wholly innocent. such cases, no doubt, occur; and yet men who have lived here many years, such as dr. happer and archdeacon gray, tell me that they do not believe there is a country in the world where, on the whole, justice is more impartially administered than in china. i was so painfully interested in this matter, that i went back to the yamun the next day in company with dr. happer, to watch the proceedings further. as before, a number of prisoners were brought in, with chains around their necks, each of whom, when called, fell down on his knees before the judge and begged for mercy. they were not answered harshly or roughly, but listened to with patience and attention. several whose cases were not capital, at once confessed their offence, and took the punishment. one young fellow, a mere overgrown boy of perhaps eighteen, was brought up, charged with disobedience to parents. he confessed his fault, and blubbered piteously for mercy, and was let off for this time with rather a mild punishment, which was to wear a chain with a heavy stone attached, which he was to drag about after him in the street before the prison, where he was exposed to the scorn of the people. the judge, however, warned him that if he repeated the disobedience, and was arrested again, he would be liable to be punished with death! such is the rigor with which the laws of china enforce obedience to parents. a man accused of theft confessed it, and was sentenced to wear the _cangue_--a board about three feet square--around his neck for a certain time, perhaps several weeks, on which his name was painted in large characters, with the crime of which he was guilty, that all who saw him might know that he was a thief! these were petty cases, such as might be disposed of in any police court. but now appeared a greater offender. a man was led in with a chain around his neck, who had the reputation of being a noted malefactor. he was charged with both robbery and murder. the case had been pending a long time. the crime, or crimes, had been committed four years ago. the man had been brought up repeatedly, but as no amount of pressure could make him confess, he could not be executed. he was now to have another hearing. he knelt down on the hard stone floor, and heard the accusation, which he denied as he had done before, and loudly protested his innocence. the judge, who was a man of middle age, with a fine intellectual countenance, was in no haste to condemn, but listened patiently. he was in a mild, persuasive mood, perhaps the more so because he was refreshing himself as a chinaman likes to do. as he sat listening, he took several small cups of tea. a boy in attendance brought him also his pipe, filled with tobacco, which he put in his mouth, and took two or three puffs, when he handed it back; and the boy cleaned it, filled it, and lighted it again. with such support to his physical weakness, who could not listen patiently to a man who was on his knees before him pleading for his life? but the case was a very bad one. it had been referred back to the village in which the man was born, and the "elders," who form the local government in every petty commune in china, had inquired into the facts, and reported that he was a notorious offender, accused of no less than seven crimes--five robberies, one murder, and one maiming. this was a pretty strong indictment. but the man protested that he had been made the victim of a conspiracy to destroy him. the judge replied that it might be that he should be wrongfully accused by one enemy, but it was hardly possible that a hundred people of his native village should combine to accuse him falsely. their written report was read by the clerk, who then held it up before the man, that he might see it in white and black. still he denied as before, and the judge, instead of putting him to the torture, simply remanded him to prison for further examination. in all these cases there was no eagerness to convict or to sentence the accused. they were listened to with patience, and apparently all proper force was allowed to what they had to say in their own defence. this relieves a good deal the apparent severity of the chinese code. it does not condemn without hearing. but, on the other hand, it does not cover up with fine phrases or foolish sentiment the terrible reality of crime. it believes in crime as an awful fact in human society, and in punishment as a repressive force that must be applied to keep society from destruction. next to the yamun is the prison, in which are confined those charged with capital offences. we were admitted by paying a small fee to the keepers, and were at once surrounded by forty or fifty wretched objects, some of whom had been subjected to torture, and who held up their limbs which had been racked, and showed their bodies all covered with wounds, as an appeal to pity. we gave them some money to buy tobacco, as that is the solace which they crave next to opium, and hurried away. but there is a place more terrible than the prison; it is the execution-ground. outside the walls of canton, between the city gate and the river, is a spot which may well be called golgotha, the place of a skull. it is simply a dirty vacant lot, partly covered with earthenware pots and pans, a few rods long, on one side of which is a dead wall; but within this narrow space has been shed more blood than on any other spot of the earth's surface. here those sentenced to death are beheaded. every few days a gloomy procession files into the lane, and the condemned are ranged against the wall on their knees, when an assistant pulls up their pinioned arms from behind, which forces their heads forward, and the executioner coming to one after another, cleaves the neck with a blow. a number of skulls were scattered about--of those whose bodies had been removed, but whose heads were left unburied. in the lane is the house of the executioner--a thick, short-set man, in a greasy frock, looking like a butcher fresh from the shambles. though a coarse, ugly fellow, he did not look, as one might suppose, like a monster of cruelty, but was simply a dull, stolid creature, who undertook this as he would any other kind of business, and cut off human heads with as little feeling as he would those of so many sheep. he picks up a little money by exhibiting himself and his weapon of death. he brought out his sword to show it to us. it was short and heavy, like a butcher's cleaver. i took it in my hand, and felt of the blade. it was dull, and rusted with stains of blood. he apologized for its appearance, but explained that it had not been used recently, and added that whenever it was needed for service, he sharpened it. i asked him how many heads he had cut off. he did not know--had not kept count--but supposed some hundreds. sometimes there were "two or three tens"--that is, twenty or thirty--at once. rev. mr. preston told me he had seen forty cut off in one morning. dr. williams had such a horror of blood that he could never be present at an execution, but he one day saw nearly two hundred headless trunks lying here, with their heads, which had just been severed from the bodies, scattered over the ground. mr. preston had seen heads piled up six feet high. it ought to be said, however, that in ordinary times no criminal convicted of a capital offence can be executed anywhere in the province (which is a district of nearly eighty thousand square miles, with twenty millions of inhabitants) except in canton, and with the cognizance of the governor. the carnival of blood was during the taiping rebellion in . that rebellion invaded this province; it had possession of whampoa, and even endangered canton. when it was suppressed, it was stamped out in blood. there were executions by wholesale. all who had taken part in it were sentenced to death, and as the insurgents were numbered by tens of thousands, the work went on for days and weeks and months. the stream of blood never ceased to flow. the rebels were brought up the river in boat-loads. the magistrates in the villages of the province were supposed to have made an examination. it was enough that they were found with arms in their hands. there were no prisons which could hold such an army, and the only way to deal with them was to execute them. accordingly every day a detachment was marched out to the execution ground, where forty or fifty men would be standing with coffins, to receive and carry off the bodies. they were taken out of the city by a certain gate, and here dr. williams engaged a man to count them as they passed, and thus he kept the fearful roll of the dead; and comparing it with the published lists he found the number executed in fourteen months to be eighty-one thousand! an aceldama indeed! it is not, then, too much to say that taking the years together, within this narrow ground blood enough has been shed to float the great eastern. but decapitation is a simple business compared with that which the executioner has sometimes to perform. i observed standing against the wall some half a dozen rude crosses, made of bamboo, which reminded me that death is sometimes inflicted by crucifixion. this mode of punishment is reserved for the worst malefactors. they are not nailed to the cross to die a lingering death, but lashed to it by ropes, and then slowly strangled or cut to pieces. the executioner explained coolly how he first cut out an eye, or sliced off a piece of the cheek or the breast, and so proceeded deliberately, till with one tremendous stroke the body was cleft in twain. thus chinese law illustrates its idea of punishment, which is to inflict it with tremendous rigor. it not only holds to capital punishment, but sometimes makes a man in dying suffer a thousand deaths. a gentleman at fuhchau told me that he had seen a criminal starved to death. a man who had robbed a woman, using violence, was put into a cage in a public place, with his head out of a hole, exposed to the sun, and his body extended, and there left to die by inches. the foreign community were horror-struck; the consuls protested against it, but in vain. he lingered four days before death came to put an end to his agony. there were about twenty so punished at canton in , for incendiarism. we shudder at these harrowing tales of "man's inhumanity to man." but we must not take the pictures of these terrible scenes, as if they were things which stare in the eyes of all beholders, or which give the fairest impression of chinese law; as if this were a country in which there is nothing but suffering and crime. on the contrary, it is pre-eminently a land of peace and order. the chinese are a law-abiding people. because a few hundred bad men are found in a city of a million inhabitants, and punished with severity, we must not suppose that this is a lawless community. those who would charge this, may at least be called on to point out a better-governed city in europe. this fearful draconian code can at least claim that it is successful in suppressing crime. the law is a terror to evil-doers. the proof of this is that order is so well preserved. this great city of canton is as quiet, and life and property are as safe, as in london or new york. yet it is done with no display of force. there is no obtrusion of the police or the military, as in paris or vienna. the gates of the city are shut at night, and the tartar soldiers make their rounds; but the armed hand is not always held up before the public eye. the chinese government has learned to make its authority respected without the constant display of military power. the chinese are the most industrious people on the face of the earth, for only by constant and universal industry can a population of four hundred millions live. when such masses of human beings are crowded together, the struggle for existence is so great, that it is only by keeping the millions of hands busy that food can be obtained for the millions of mouths. the same necessity enforces peace with each other, and therefore from necessity, as well as from moral considerations, this has been the policy of china from the beginning. its whole political economy, taught long since by confucius, is contained in two words--industry and peace. by an adherence to these simple principles, the empire has held together for thousands of years, while every other nation has gone to pieces. china has never been an aggressive nation, given to wars of conquest. it has indeed attempted to subdue the tribes of central asia, and holds a weak sway over turkistan and thibet; while corea and loochoo and annam still acknowledge a kind of fealty, now long since repudiated by burmah and siam. but in almost all cases it has "stooped to conquer," and been satisfied with a sort of tribute, instead of attempting roughly to enforce its authority, which would lead to perpetual wars. thus has china followed the lesson of confucius, furnishing the most stupendous example on the face of the earth of the advantage to nations of industry and peace. the reason for this general respect and obedience to law may be found in another fact, which is to the immortal honor of the chinese. it is the respect and obedience to parents. in china the family is the foundation of the state; and the very first law of society, as well as of religion, is: "honor thy father and mother." in no country in the world is this law so universally obeyed. the preservation of china amid the wreck of other kingdoms is largely due to its respect to the fifth commandment, which has proved literally "a commandment with promise;"--the promise, "that thy days may be long in the land which the lord thy god giveth thee," having been fulfilled in the preservation of this country from age to age. as a consequence of this respect to parents, which imposes an authority over children, and binds them together, the family feeling in china is very strong. this, however noble in itself, has some evil effects, as it often separates the people of a town or village by feuds and divisions, which are as distinct, and as jealous and hostile, as the old highland clans in scotland. this interferes with the administration of justice. if a crime is committed, all of one's clan are in league to screen and protect the offender, while the rival clan is as eager to pursue and destroy him. woe to the man who is accused, and who has no friend! but the disposition to stand by each other manifests itself in many acts of mutual helpfulness, of devotion and personal sacrifice. carrying out the same idea, the nation is only a larger family, and the government a patriarchal despotism. there is no representative government, no congress or parliament; and yet there is a kind of local government, like that of our new england towns. every village is governed by "elders," who are responsible for its police, who look after rascals, and who also aid in assessing the taxes for the local and general governments. by this union of a great central power with local administration of local affairs, the government has managed to hold together hundreds of millions of human beings, and make its authority respected over a large part of asia. this family feeling moulds even the religion of china, which takes the form of a worship of ancestors. those who have given them existence are not lost when they have ceased to breathe. they are still the links of being by which, and through which, the present living world came from the hand of the creator, and are to be reverenced with a devotion next to that felt for the author of being himself. their memory is still cherished. every household has its objects of devotion; every dwelling has its shrine sacred to the memory of the dead; and no temple or pagoda is more truly holy ground than the cemeteries, often laid out on hill-sides, where reposes the dust of former generations. to these they make frequent pilgrimages. every year the emperor of china goes in state to visit the tombs of his ancestors. the poor emigrant who leaves for america or australia, gives a part of his earnings, so that, in case of death, his body shall be brought back to china to sleep in the soil that contains the dust of his ancestors. thus the living are joined to the dead; and those who have vanished from the earth, from the silent hills where they sleep, still rule the most populous kingdom of the world. one cannot leave china without a word in regard to its relations with other countries. in this respect a great change has taken place within this generation. the old exclusiveness is broken down. this has come by war, and war which had not always a justifiable origin, however good may have been its effects. the opium war in is not a thing to be remembered by england with pride. the cause of that war was an attempt by the chinese government in to prevent the english importation of opium. never did a government make a more determined effort to remove a terrible curse that was destroying its population. seeing the evil in all its enormity, it roused itself like a strong man to shake it off. it imposed heavy penalties on the use of opium, even going so far as to put some to death. but what could it do so long as foreigners were selling opium in canton, right before its eyes? it resolved to break up the trade, to stop the importation. as a last resort, it drew a cordon around the factories of the foreign merchants, and brought them to terms by a truly eastern strategy. it did not attack them, nor touch a hair of their heads; but it assumed that it had at least the right to exercise its authority over its own people, by forbidding them to have any intercourse with foreigners. immediately every chinese servant left them. no man could be had, for love or money, to render them any service, or even to sell them food. thus they were virtually prisoners. this state of siege lasted about six weeks. at the end of that time the british merchants surrendered all the opium, at the order of their consular chief, charles elliot, for him to hand it over to the chinese; it amounted to , chests (nearly three million pounds in weight), mostly on board ship at the time. the chinese received it at the mouth of the river, near the bogue forts, and there destroyed it, by throwing it overboard, as our fathers destroyed the tea in boston harbor. to make sure work of it, lest it should be recovered and used, they broke open the chests and mixed it thoroughly with salt water. as it dissolved in the sea, it killed great quantities of fish, but that opium at least never killed any chinamen. this brought on war. much has been said of other causes, but no one familiar with affairs in the east doubts that the controlling motive was a desire to force upon china the trade in opium which is one chief source of the revenue of india. the war lasted two years, and ended in a complete victory for the foreigners. the bogue forts were bombarded, and foreign ships forced their way up the river. canton was ransomed just as it was to have been attacked, but amoy, ningpo, shanghai, and chinkiang were assaulted and captured. the war was finally terminated in by a treaty, by the terms of which china paid to england six millions of dollars for the opium which had been destroyed, and opened five ports to foreign trade. this, though a gain to european and indian commerce, was a heavy blow to canton, which, instead of being the only open port, was but one of five. the trade, which before had been concentrated here, now spread along the coast to amoy, fuhchau, ningpo, and shanghai. but the ruler of nations brings good out of evil. wrong as was the motive of the opium war, it cannot be doubted that sooner or later war must have come from the attitude of china toward european nations. for ages it had maintained a policy of exclusiveness. the rest of the world were "outside barbarians." it repelled their advances, not only with firmness, but almost with insult. while keeping this attitude of resistance, as foreign commerce was continually knocking at its doors, a collision was inevitable. recognizing this, we cannot but regret that it should have occurred for a cause in which china was in the right, and england in the wrong. in the wars of england and france with china, europe has fought with asia, and has gotten the victory. will it be content with what it has gained, or will it press still further, and force china to the wall? this is the question which i heard asked everywhere in eastern asia. the english merchants find their interests thwarted by the obstinate conservatism of the chinese, and would be glad of an opportunity for a naval or military demonstration--an occasion which the chinese are very careful not to give. there is an english fleet at hong kong, a few hours' sail from canton. the admiral who was to take command came out with us on the steamer from singapore. he was a gallant seaman, and seemed like a man who would not willingly do injustice; and yet i think his english blood would rise at the prospect of glory, if he were to receive an order from london to transfer his fleet to the canton river, and lay it abreast of the city, or to force his way up the pei-ho. the english merchants would hail such an appearance in these waters. not content with the fifteen ports which they have now, they want the whole of china opened to trade. but the chinese think they have got enough of it, and to any further invasion oppose a quiet but steady resistance. the english are impatient. they want to force an entrance, and to introduce not only the goods of manchester, but all the modern improvements--to have railroads all over china, as in india, and steamers on all the rivers; and they think it very unreasonable that the chinese object. but there is another side to this question. such changes would disturb the whole internal commerce of china. they would throw out of employment, not thousands nor tens of thousands, but millions, who would perish in such an economical and industrial revolution as surely as by the waters of a deluge. an english missionary at canton told me that it would not be possible to make any sudden changes, such as would be involved in the general introduction of railroads, or of labor-saving machines in place of the labor of human hands, without inflicting immense suffering. there are millions of people who now keep their heads just above water, and that by standing on their toes and stretching their necks, who would be drowned if it should rise an inch higher. the least agitation of the waters, and they would be submerged. can we wonder that they hesitate to be sacrificed, and beg their government to move slowly? america has had no part in the wars with china, although it is said that in the attack on the forts at the mouth of the pei-ho, when the english ships were hard pressed, american sailors went on board of one of them, and volunteered to serve at the guns, whether from pure love of the excitement of battle, or because they felt, as commodore tatnall expressed it, that "blood was thicker than water," is not recorded.[ ] american sailors and soldiers will never be wanting in any cause which concerns their country's interest and honor. but hitherto it has been our good fortune to come into no armed collision with the chinese, and hence the american name is in favor along the coast. our country is represented, not so much by ships of war as by merchants and missionaries. the latter, though few in number, by their wisdom as well as zeal, have done much to conciliate favor and command respect. they are not meddlers nor mischief-makers. they do not belong to the nation that has forced opium upon china, though often obliged to hear the taunt that is hurled against the whole of the english-speaking race. in their own quiet spheres, they have labored to diffuse knowledge and to exhibit practical christianity. they have opened schools and hospitals, as well as churches. in canton, a generation ago, dr. peter parker opened a hospital, which is still continued, and which receives about nine hundred every year into its wards, besides some fifteen thousand who are treated at the doors. for twenty years it was in charge of dr. kerr, who nearly wore himself out in his duties; and is now succeeded by dr. carrow, a young physician who left a good practice in jersey city to devote himself to this work. hundreds undergo operation for the stone--a disease quite common in the south, but which chinese surgery is incompetent to treat--and who are here rescued from a lingering death. that is the way american christianity should be represented in china. in calcutta i saw the great opium ships bound for hong kong. let england have a monopoly of that trade, but let america come to china with healing in one hand and the gospel in the other. nor is this all which american missionaries have done. they have rendered a service--not yet noticed as it should be--to literature, and in preparing the way for the intercourse of china with other nations. an american missionary, dr. martin, is president of the university at peking, established by the government. dr. s. wells williams, in the more than forty years of his residence in china, has prepared a chinese-english dictionary, which i heard spoken of everywhere in the east as the best in existence. in other ways his knowledge of the language and the people has been of service both to china and to america, during his twenty-one years' connection with the legation. and if american diplomacy has succeeded in gaining many substantial advantages for our country, while it has skilfully avoided wounding the susceptibilities of the chinese, the success is due in no small degree to this modest american missionary. de quincey said if he were to live in china, he should go mad. no wonder. the free english spirit could not be so confined. there is something in this enormous population, weighed down with the conservatism of ages, that oppresses the intellect. it is a forced stagnation. china is a boundless and a motionless ocean. its own people may not feel it, but one accustomed to the free life of europe looks upon it as a vast dead sea, in whose leaden waters nothing can live. but even this dead sea is beginning to stir with life. there is a heaving, as when the polar ocean breaks up, and the liberated waves sweep far and wide-- "swinging low with sullen roar." such is the sound which is beginning to be heard on all the shores of asia. since foreigners have begun to come into china, the chinese go abroad more than ever before. there is developed a new spirit of emigration. not only do they come to california, but go to australia, and to all the islands of southern asia. they are the most enterprising as well as the most industrious of emigrants. they have an extraordinary aptitude for commerce. they are in the east what the jews are in other parts of the world--the money-changers, the mercantile class, the petty traders; and wherever they come, they are sure to "pick up" and to "go ahead." who can put bounds to such a race, that not content with a quarter of asia, overflows so much of the remaining parts of the eastern hemisphere? on our pacific coast the chinese have appeared as yet only as laborers and servants, or as attempting the humblest industries. their reception has not been such as we can regard with satisfaction and pride. poor john chinaman! patient toiler on the railroad or in the mine, yet doomed to be kicked about in the land whose prosperity he has done so much to promote. there is something very touching in his love for his native country--a love so strong that he desires even in death to be carried back to be buried in the land which gave him birth. some return living, only to tell of a treatment in strange contrast with that which our countrymen have received in china, as well as in violation of the solemn obligations of treaties. we cannot think of this cruel persecution but with indignation at our country's shame. no one can visit china without becoming interested in the country and its people. there is much that is good in the chinese, in their patient industry, and in their strong domestic feeling. who can but respect a people that honor their fathers and mothers in a way to furnish an example to the whole christian world? who indeed exaggerate their reverence to such a degree that they even worship their ancestors? the mass of the people are miserably poor, but they do not murmur at their lot. they take it patiently, and even cheerfully; for they see in it a mixture of dark and bright. in their own beautiful and poetical saying: "the moon shines bright amid the firs." may it not only shine through the gloom of deep forests, but rise higher and higher, till it casts a flood of light over the whole eastern sky! footnote: [ ] as this incident has excited a great deal of interest, i am happy to give it as it occurred from an eye-witness. one who was on board of commodore tatnall's ship writes: "i was present at the battle in the pei-ho in , and know all the particulars. admiral hope having been wounded, was urged to bring up the marines before sunset, and sent his aid down to take them off the three junks, where they were waiting at the mouth of the river. the aid came on board the "toeywan" to see commodore tatnall, tell him the progress of the battle, and what he had been sent down for, adding that, as the tide was running out, it would be hard work getting up again. as he went on, tatnall began to get restless, and turning to me (i sat next), said: 'blood is thicker than water; i don't care if they do take away my commission.' then turning to his own flag-lieutenant at the other end of the table, he said aloud: 'get up steam;' and everything was ready for a start in double-quick time. when all was prepared, the launches, full of marines, were towed into action by the "toeywan"; and casting them off, the commodore left in his barge to go on board the british flag-ship, to see the wounded admiral. on the way his barge was hit, his coxswain killed, and the rest just managed to get on board the "lee" before their boat sunk, owing their lives probably to his presence of mind. it was only the men in this boat's crew who helped to work the british guns. i suppose tatnall never meant his words to be repeated, but hope's aid overheard them, and thus immortalized them." chapter xxv. three weeks in japan. we left hong kong on the th of may, just one year from the day that we sailed from new york on our journey around the world. as we completed these twelve months, we embarked on our twelfth voyage. after being so long on foreign ships--english and french and dutch: austrian lloyds and messageries maritimes--it was pleasant to be at last on one that bore the flag of our country, and bore it so proudly as "the city of peking." as we stepped on her deck, and looked up at the stars above us, we felt that we were almost on the soil of our country. as we were now approaching america, though still over six thousand miles away, and nearly ten thousand from new york, we thought it was time to telegraph that we were coming, but found that "the longest way round was the nearest way home." the direct cable across the bay of bengal, from penang to madras, was broken, and the message had to go by siberia. it seemed indeed a long, long way, but the lightning regards neither space nor time. swift as thought the message flew up the coast of china to siberia, and then across the whole breadth of two continents, asia and europe, and dived under the atlantic, to come up on the shores of america. the harbor of hong kong was gay with ships decorated with flags, and the british fleet was still firing salutes, which seemed to be its daily pastime, as the city of peking began to move. with a grand sweep she circled round the bay, and then running swiftly into a winding passage among islands, through which is the entrance to the harbor, steamed out on the broad pacific. we had intended to go to shanghai, and through the inland sea of japan, but we sacrificed even such a pleasure (or rather left it till the next time) to take advantage of this noble ship, that was bound direct for yokohama. our course took us through the channel of formosa, in full sight of the island, which has had an unenviable notoriety from the treatment of the crews of ships wrecked on its inhospitable coast. leaving it far behind, in six days we were running along the shores of japan, and might have seen the snowy head of fusiyama, had it not been wrapped in clouds. the next morning we left behind the long roll of the pacific, and entered the bay of yedo--a gulf fifty miles deep, whose clear, sparkling waters shone in the sunlight. fishing-boats were skimming the tranquil surface. the japanese are born to the sea. all around the coast they live upon it, and are said to derive from it one-third of their subsistence. the shores, sloping from the water's edge, are sprinkled with japanese villages. some thirty miles from the sea we pass mississippi bay, so called from the flag-ship of commodore perry, which lay here with his fleet while he was conducting the negotiations for the opening of japan; the headland above it bears the name of treaty point. rounding this point, we see before us in the distance a forest of shipping, and soon cast anchor in the harbor of yokohama. yokohama has a pleasant look from the sea, an impression increased as we are taken off in a boat, and landed on the quay--a sea wall, which keeps out the waves, and furnishes a broad terrace for the front of the town. here is a wide street called "the bund," on which stand the principal hotels. from our rooms we look out directly on the harbor. among the steamers from foreign ports, are a number of ships of war, among which is the tennessee, the flagship of our asiatic squadron, bearing the broad pennant of admiral reynolds, whom we had known in america, and indeed had bidden good-by at our own door, as we stepped into the carriage to drive to the steamer. we parted, hoping to meet in asia, a wish which was now fulfilled. he was very courteous to us during our stay, sending his boat to bring us on board, and coming often with his excellent wife to see us on shore. it gave us a pleasant feeling of nearness to home, to have a great ship full of our countrymen close at hand. in the rear of the town the hill which overlooks the harbor, bears the foreign name of "the bluff." here is quite an american colony, including several missionary families, in which we became very much at home before we left japan. yokohama has an american newness and freshness. it is only a few years since it has come into existence as a place of any importance. it was only a small fishing village until the opening of japan, since which it has become the chief port of foreign commerce. it is laid out in convenient streets, which are well paved, and kept clean, and altogether the place has a brisk and lively air, as of some new and thriving town in our own country. but just at this moment we are not so much interested to see american improvements as to see the natives on their own soil. here they are in all their glory--pure-blooded asiatics--and yet of a type that is not mongolian or malayan or indian. the jap is neither a "mild hindoo" nor a "heathen chinee." his hair is shaved from his head in a fashion quite his own, making a sort of triangle on the crown; and no long pigtail decorates his person behind. we recognize him at once, for never was a human creature so exactly like his portrait. we see every day the very same figures that we have seen all our lives on tea-cups and saucers, and fans and boxes. our first acquaintance with them was as charioteers, in which they take the place, not of drivers, but of horses; for the _jin-riki-sha_ (literally, a carriage drawn by man power) has no other "team" harnessed to it. the vehicle is exactly like a baby carriage, only made for "children of a larger growth." it is simply an enlarged perambulator, on two wheels, drawn by a coolie; and when one takes his seat in it, he cannot help feeling at first as if he were a big baby, whom his nurse had tucked up and was taking out for an airing. but one need not be afraid of it, lest he break down the carriage, or tire out the steed that draws it. no matter how great your excellency may be, the stout fellow will take up the thills, standing where the pony or the donkey ought to be, and trot off with you at a good pace, making about four miles an hour. at first the impression was irresistibly ludicrous, and we laughed at ourselves to see what a ridiculous figure we cut. indeed we did not quite recover our sobriety during the three weeks that we were in japan. but after all it is a very convenient way of getting about, and one at least is satisfied that his horses will not run away, though he must not be too sure of that, for i sometimes felt, especially when going down hill, that they had got loose, and would land me with a broken head at the bottom. but yokohama is only the gate of yedo (or tokio, as it is the fashion to call it now, but i keep to the old style as more familiar), of which we had read even in our school geographies as one of the most populous cities of asia. the access is very easy, for it is only eighteen miles distant, and there is a railroad, so that it is but an hour's ride. while on our way that morning, we had our first sight of fusiyama. though seventy miles distant, its dome of snow rose on the horizon sharp and clear, like the jungfrau at interlachen. arrived at yedo, the station was surrounded by _jinrikishas_, whose masters were kept in better order than the cabmen of new york. wishing to appear in the capital with proper dignity, we took two men instead of one, so that each had a full team; and fine young bloods they were, full of spirit, that fairly danced with us along the street, in such gay fashion that my clerical garb was hardly sufficient to preserve my clerical character. we first trotted off to the american minister's, mr. bingham's, who received us with all courtesy, and sent for the interpreter of the legation, rev. mr. thompson, an american missionary, who kindly offered to be our guide about the city, and gave up the day to us. with such a cicerone, we started on our rounds. he took us first to what is called the summer palace, though it is not a palace at all, but only a park, to which the mikado comes once in a while to take his royal pleasure. there are a few rest-houses scattered about, where one, whether king or commoner, might find repose; or strolling under the shade of trees, and looking off upon the tranquil sea. next we rode to the tombs of the tycoons, where, under gilded shrines, beneath temples and pagodas, sleep the royal dead. the grounds are large and the temples exquisitely finished, with the fine lacquer work for which the japanese are famous; so that we had to take off our shoes, and step very softly over the polished floors. riding on through endless streets, our friend took us to a hill, ascended by a long flight of steps, on the top of which, in an open space, stood a temple, an arbor, and a tea-house. this point commands an extensive view of yedo. it is a city of magnificent distances, spreading out for miles on every side; and yet, except for its extent, it is not at all imposing, for it is, like canton, a mere wilderness of houses, relieved by no architectural magnificence--not a single lofty tower or dome rising above the dead level. but, unlike canton, the city has very broad streets, sometimes crossed by a river or a canal, spanned by high, arched bridges. the principal business street is much wider than broadway, but it has not a shop along its whole extent that would make any show even in "the bowery." the houses are built only one story high, because of earthquakes which are frequent in japan, caused, as the people believe, by a huge fish which lies under the island, and that shakes it whenever he tosses his head or lashes his tail. the houses are of such slight construction that they burn like tinder; and it is not surprising that the city is often swept by destructive fires. but if the whole place were thus swept away, or if it were shaken to pieces by an earthquake in the night, the people would pick themselves up in the morning and restore their dwellings, with not much more difficulty than soldiers, whose tents had been blown down by the wind, would find in pitching them again and making another camp. some of the government buildings are of more stately proportions, and there are open grounds in certain quarters of the city, adorned with magnificent trees, like the ancient oaks which cast their shadows on the smooth-shaven lawns of england, and give to english parks such an air of dignity and repose. the castle of the late tycoon, which may be said to be the heart of the city, around which it clusters, is more of a fortress than a palace. there is an immense enclosure surrounded by a deep moat (whose sides are very pretty, banked with rich green turf), and with picturesque old towers standing at intervals along the walls. in the rear of the grounds of the old castle is the much less ambitious residence of the mikado, where he is duly guarded, though he does not now, as formerly, keep himself invisible, as if he were a divinity descended from the skies, who in mysterious seclusion ruled the affairs of men. by this time we were a little weary of sight-seeing, and drew up at a japanese tea-house, to take our tiffin. the place was as neat as a pin, and the little maids came out to receive us, and bowed themselves to the ground, touching the earth with their foreheads, in token of the great honor that had come to their house--homage that we received with becoming dignity, and went on our way rejoicing. the pleasantest sights that we saw to-day were two which showed the awakened intelligence and spirit of progress among the people. these were the government college, with two hundred students, manned in part by american professors (where we found our countryman dr. veeder in his lecture-room, performing experiments); and an old temple of confucius which has been turned into a library and reading-room. here was a large collection of books and periodicals, many from foreign countries, over which a number of persons were quietly but studiously engaged. the enclosure was filled with grand old trees, and had the air of an academic grove, whose silent shades were devoted to study and learning. after this first visit to the capital, we took a week for an excursion into the interior, which gave us a sight of the country and of japanese life. this we could not have made with any satisfaction but for our friends the missionaries. they kindly sketched the outlines of a trip to the base of fusiyama, seventy miles from yedo. it was very tempting, but what could we do without guides or interpreters? we should be lost like babes in the wood. it occurred to us that such a journey might do _them_ good. dr. brown and dr. hepburn, the oldest missionaries in japan, had been closely confined for months in translating the scriptures, and needed some relief. a little country air would give them new life; so we invited them to be our guests, and we would make a week of it. we finally prevailed upon them to "come apart and rest awhile," not in a "desert," but in woodland shades, among the mountains and by the sea. their wives came with them, without whom their presence would have given us but half the pleasure it did. thus encompassed and fortified with the best of companions, with a couple of english friends, we made a party of eight, which, with the usual impedimenta of provisions and a cook, and extra shawls and blankets, required eleven _jinrikishas_, with two men harnessed to each, making altogether quite a grand cavalcade, as we sallied forth from yokohama on a monday noon in "high feather." to our staid missionary friends it was an old story; but to us, strangers in the land, it was highly exciting to be thus starting off into the interior of japan. the country around yokohama is hilly and broken. our way wound through a succession of valleys rich with fields of rice and barley, while along the roads shrubberies, which at home are cultivated with great care, grew in wild profusion--the wisteria, the honeysuckle, and the eglantine. the succession of hill and valley gave to the country a variety and beauty which, with the high state of cultivation, reminded us of java. as we mounted the hills we had glimpses of the sea, for we were skirting along the bay of yedo. after a few miles we came to an enchanting spot, which bears the ambitious title of the plains of heaven, yet which is not heaven, and is not even a plain--but a rolling country, in which hill and valley are mingled together, with the purple mountains as a background on one side and the blue waters on the other. as we rode along, i thought how significant was the simple fact of such an excursion as this in a country, where a few years ago no foreigner's life was safe. on this very road, less than ten years since, an englishman was cut down for no other crime than that of being a foreigner, and getting in the way of the high daimio who was passing. and now we jogged along as quietly, and with as little apprehension, as if we were riding through the villages of new england. on our way lies a town which once bore a great name, kamakura, where nine centuries ago lived the great yoritomo, the napoleon of his day, the founder of the military rule in the person of the shogun (or tycoon, a title but lately assumed), as distinguished from that of the mikado. here he made his capital, which was afterwards removed, and about three hundred years since fixed in yedo; and kamakura is left, like other decayed capitals, to live on the recollections of its former greatness. but no change can take away its natural beauty, in its sheltered valley near the sea. a mile beyond, we came to the colossal image of dai-buts, or great buddha. it is of bronze, and though in a sitting posture, is forty-four feet high. the hands are crossed upon the knees. we crawled up into his lap, and five of us sat side by side on his thumbs. we even went inside, and climbed up into his head, and proved by inspection that these idols, however colossal and imposing without, are empty within. there are no brains within their brazen skulls. the expression of the face is the same as in all statues of buddha: that of repose--passive, motionless--as of one who had passed through the struggles of life, and attained to nirvana, the state of perfect calm, which is the perfection of heavenly beatitude. it was now getting towards sunset, and we had still five or six miles to go before we reached our resting-place for the night. as this was the last stage in the journey, our fleet coursers seemed resolved to show us what they could do. they had cast off all their garments, except a cloth around their loins, and straw sandals on their feet, so that they were stripped like roman gladiators, and they put forth a speed as if racing in the arena. a connoisseur would admire their splendid physique. their bodies were tattooed, like south sea islanders, which set out in bolder relief, as in savage warriors, their muscular development--their broad chests and brawny limbs. with no stricture of garments to bind them, their limbs were left free for motion. it was a study to see how they held themselves erect. with heads and chests thrown back, they balanced themselves perfectly. the weight of the carriage seemed nothing to them; they had only to keep in motion, and it followed. thus we came rushing into the streets of fujisawa, and drew up before the tea-house, where lodgings had been ordered for the night. the whole family turned out to meet us, the women falling on their knees, and bowing their heads till they touched the floor, in homage to the greatness of their guests. and now came our first experience of a japanese tea-house. if the _jin-riki-sha_ is like a baby carriage, the tea-house is like a baby house. it is small, built entirely of wood with sliding partitions, which can be drawn, like screens, to enclose any open space, and make it into a room. these partitions are of paper, so that of course the "chambers" are not very private. the same material is used for windows, and answers very well, as it softens the light, like ground glass. the house has always a veranda, so that the rooms are protected from the sun by the overhanging roof. the bedrooms are very small, but scrupulously clean, and covered with wadded matting, on which we lie down to sleep. at fujisawa is a temple, which is visited by the mikado once or twice in the year. we were shown through his private rooms, and one or two of us even stretched ourselves upon his bed, which, however, was not a very daring feat, as it was merely a strip of matting raised like a low divan or ottoman, a few inches above the floor. the temples are not imposing structures, and have no beauty except that of position. they generally stand on a hill, and are approached by an avenue or a long flight of steps, and the grounds are set out with trees, which are left to grow till they sometimes attain a majestic height and breadth. in front of this temple stands a tree, which we recognized by its foliage as the _salisburia adiantifolia_--a specimen of which we had in america on our own lawn, but there it was a shrub brought from the nursery, while here it was like a cedar of lebanon. it was said to be a thousand years old. standing here, it was regarded as a sacred tree, and we looked up to it with more reverence than to the sombre temple behind, or the sleepy old bonzes who were sauntering idly about the grounds. the next morning, as we started on our journey, we came upon the tokaido, the royal road of japan, built hundreds of years ago from yedo to kioto, to connect the political with the spiritual capital--the residence of the tycoon with that of the mikado. it is the highway along which the daimios came in state to pay their homage to the tycoon at yedo, as of old subject-princes came to rome. it is constructed with a good deal of skill in engineering, which is shown in carrying it over mountains, and in the building of bridges. portions of the road are paved with blocks of stone like the appian way. but that which gives it a glory and majesty all its own, is its bordering of gigantic cedars--the _cryptomeria japonica_--which attain an enormous height, with gnarled and knotted limbs that have wrestled with the storms of centuries. as we advance, the road comes out upon the sea, for we have crossed the peninsula which divides the bay of yedo from the pacific, and are now on the shores of the ocean itself. how beautiful it seemed that day! it was the last of may, and the atmosphere was full of the warmth of early summer. the coast is broken by headlands shooting out into the deep, which enclose bays, where the soft, warm sunshine lingers as on the shores of the mediterranean, and the waters of the mighty pacific come gently rippling up the beach. so twixt sea and land, sunshine and shade, we sped gaily along to odawara--another place which was once the residence of a powerful chief, whose castle is still there, though in ruins; its stones, if questioned of the past, might tell a tale like that of one of the castles on the rhine. these old castles are the monuments of the same form of government, for the feudal system existed in japan as in germany. the kingdom was divided into provinces, ruled by great daimios, who were like the barons of the middle ages, each with his armed retainers, who might be called upon to support the central government, yet who sometimes made war upon it. this feudal system is now completely destroyed. as we were riding over the tokaido, i pictured to myself the great pageants that had swept along so proudly in the days gone by. what would those old barons have thought if they could have seen in the future an irruption of invaders from beyond the sea, and that even this king's highway should one day be trodden by the feet of outside barbarians? at odawara we dismissed our men, (who, as soon as they received their money, started off for yokohama,) as we had to try another mode of transportation; for though we still kept the tokaido, it ascends the mountains so steeply that it is impassable for anything on wheels, and we had to exchange the _jinrikisha_ for the _kago_--a kind of basket made of bamboo, in which a man is doubled up and packed like a bundle, and so carried on men's shoulders. it would not answer badly if he had neither head nor legs. but his head is always knocking against the ridge-pole, and his legs have to be twisted under him, or "tied up in a bow-knot." this is the way in which criminals are carried to execution in china; but for one who has any further use for his limbs, it is not altogether agreeable. i lay passive for awhile, feeling as if i had been packed and salted down in a pork-barrel. then i began to wriggle, and thrust out my head on one side and the other, and at last had to confess, like the irishman who was offered the privilege of working his passage on a canal-boat and was set to leading a horse, that "if it were not for the honor of the thing, i had as lief walk." so i crawled out and unrolled myself, to see if my limbs were still there, for they were so benumbed that i was hardly conscious of their existence, and then straightening myself out, and taking a long bamboo reed, which is light and strong, lithe and springy, for an alpenstock, i started off with my companions. we all soon recovered our spirits, and "walked in glory and in joy along the mountain side," till at nightfall we halted in the village of hakoné, a mountain retreat much resorted to by foreigners from yedo and yokohama. here we might have been in the highlands of scotland, for we were in the heart of mountains, and on the border of a lake. to make the resemblance more perfect, a scotch mist hung over the hills, and rain pattered on the roof all night long, and half the next day. but at noon the clouds broke, and we started on our journey. dr. and mrs. brown and mrs. hepburn kept to their baskets, and were borne a long way round, while the rest of us were rowed across the lake, a beautiful sheet of water, nestled among the hills, like loch katrine. one of these hills is tunnelled for two miles, to carry the water under it to irrigate the rice fields of some twenty villages. landing on the other side of the lake, we had before us a distance of eight or ten miles. our coolies stood ready to carry us, but all preferred the freedom of their unfettered limbs. the mountain is volcanic, and on the summit is a large space made desolate by frequent eruptions, out of which issues smoke laden with the fumes of sulphur, and hot springs throw off jets of steam, and boil and bubble, and hiss with a loud noise, as if all the furies were pent up below, and spitting out their rage through the fissures of the rocks. the side of the mountain is scarred and torn, and yellow with sulphur, like the sides of vesuvius. the natives call the place hell. it was rather an abrupt transition, after crossing the plains of heaven a day or two before, to come down so soon to the sides of the pit. towards evening we came down into the village of miya-no-shita (what musical names these japanese have!), where our friends were waiting for us, and over a warm cup of tea talked over the events of the day. this is a favorite resort, for its situation among the mountains, with lovely walks on every side, and for its hot springs. water is brought into the hotel in pipes of bamboo, so hot that one is able to bear it only after slowly dipping his feet into it, and thus sliding in by degrees, when the sensation is as of being scalded alive. but it takes the soreness out of one's limbs weary with a long day's tramp; and after being steamed and boiled, we stretched ourselves on the clean mats of the tea-house, and slept the sleep of innocence and peace. one cannot go anywhere in japan without receiving a visit from the people, who, being of a thrifty turn, seize the occasion of a stranger's presence to drive a little trade. the skill of the japanese is quite marvellous in certain directions: they make everything _in petto_, in miniature--the smallest earthenware; the tiniest cups and saucers. in these mountain villages they work, like the swiss, in wooden-ware, and make exquisite and dainty little boxes and bureaus, as if for dolls, yet with complete sets of drawers, which could not but take the fancy of one who had little people at home waiting for presents. besides the temptation of such trinkets, who could resist the insinuating manner of the women who brought them? the japanese women are not pretty. they might be, were it not for their odious fashions. we have seen faces that would be quite handsome if left in their native, unadorned beauty. but fashion rules the world in japan as in paris. as soon as a woman is married her eyebrows are shaved off, and her teeth blackened, so that she cannot open her mouth without showing a row of ebony instead of ivory, which disfigures faces that would be otherwise quite winning. it says a good deal for their address, that with such a feature to repel, they can still be attractive. this is owing wholly to their manners. the japanese men and women are a light-hearted race, and captivate by their gayety and friendliness. the women were always in a merry mood. as soon as they entered the room, before even a word was spoken, they began to giggle, as if our appearance were very funny, or as if this were the quickest way to be on good terms with us. the effect was irresistible. i defy the soberest man to resist it, for as soon as your visitor laughs, you begin to laugh from sympathy; and when you have got into a hearty laugh together, you are already acquainted, and in friendly relations, and the work of buying and selling goes on easily. they took us captive in a few minutes. we purchased sparingly, thinking of our long journey; but our english friends bought right and left, till the next day they had to load two pack-horses with boxes to be carried over the mountains to yokohama. the next day was to bring the consummation of our journey, for then we were to go up into a mountain and see the glory of the lord. a few miles distant is the summit of otometoge, from which one obtains a view of fusiyama, looking full in his awful face. we started with misgivings, for it had been raining, and the clouds still hung low upon the mountains. our way led through hamlets clustered together in a narrow pass, like alpine villages. as we wound up the ascent, we often stopped to look back at the valley below, from which rose the murmur of rushing waters, while the sides of the mountains were clothed with forests. these rich landscapes gave such enchantment to the scene as repaid us for all our weariness. at two o'clock we reached the top, and rushed to the brow to catch the vision of fusiyama, but only to be disappointed. the mountain was there, but clouds covered his hoary head. in vain we watched and waited; still the monarch hid his face. clouds were round about the throne. the lower ranges stood in full outline, but the heaven-piercing dome, or pyramid of snow, was wrapped in its misty shroud. that for which we had travelled seventy miles, we could not see at last. is it not often so in life? the moments that we have looked forward to with highest expectations, are disappointing when they come. we cross the seas, and journey far, to reach some mount of vision, when lo! the sight that was to reward us is hidden from our eyes; while our highest raptures come to us unsought, perhaps in visions of the night. but our toilsome climb was not unrewarded. below us lay a broad, deep valley, to which the rice fields gave a vivid green, dotted with houses and villages, which were scattered over the middle distance, and even around the base of fusiyama himself. drinking in the full loveliness of the scene, we turned to descend, and after a three hours' march, footsore and weary, entered our alpine village of miya-no-shita. the next morning we set out to return. had the day shone bright and clear, we should have been tempted to renew our ascent of the day before. but as the clouds were still over the sky, we reluctantly turned away. taking another route from that by which we came, we descended a deep valley, and winding around the heights which we had crossed before, at eleven o'clock reëntered odawara. and now we had done with our marching and our kagos, and once more took to our chariots, which drew up to the door--the men not exactly saddled and bridled, but stripped for the race, with no burden added to the burden of the flesh which they had to carry. a crowd collected to see us depart, and looked on admiringly as we went dashing through the long street of odawara, and out upon the tokaido. our way, as before, led by the sea, which was in no tempestuous mood, but calm and tranquil, as if conscious that the summer was born. the day was not too warm, for the clouds that were flying over the sky shielded us from the direct rays of the sun; yet as we looked out now and then, the giant trees cast their shadows across our path. an american poet sings: "what is so rare as a day in june?" surely nothing could be _more_ rare or fair; but even the sky and the soft summer air seemed more full of exquisite sensations to the strangers who were that day rolling along the shores of the pacific, under the mighty cedars of the tokaido. once more i was surprised and delighted at the agility and swiftness of the men who drew our _jin-riki-shas_. as we had but twenty-three miles to go in the afternoon, we took it easily, and gave them first only a gentle trot of five miles to get their limbs a little supple, and then stopped for tiffin. some of the men had on a loose jacket when we started, besides the girdle about the loins. this they took off and wrung out, for they were dripping with sweat, and wiped their brawny chests and limbs, and then took their chopsticks and applied themselves to their rice, while we went upstairs in the tea-house, and had our soup and other dishes served to us, sitting on the floor like turks, and then stretched ourselves on the mats, weary with our morning's walk, and even with the motion of riding. while we were trying to get a little rest our men talked and laughed in the court below as if it were child's play to take us over the road. as we resumed our places and turned out of the yard, i had the curiosity to "time" their speed. i had a couple of athletic fellows, who thought me a mere feather in weight, and made me spin like a top as they bowled along. they started off at an easy trot, which they kept up, without breaking, mile after mile. i did not need to crack the whip, but at the word, away they flew through villages and over the open country, never stopping, but when they came to slightly rising ground, rushing up like mettlesome horses, and down at full speed. thus they kept on, and never drew rein till they came to the bank of a river, which had to be crossed in a boat. i took out my watch. it was an hour and a quarter, and they had come seven miles and a half! this was doing pretty well. of course they could not keep this up all day; yet they will go thirty miles from sunrise to sunset, and even forty, if spurred to it by a little extra pay. sometimes, indeed, they go even at a still greater speed for a short distance. the first evening, as we came into fujisawa, i do not doubt that the last fifteen minutes they were going at a speed of ten miles an hour, for they came in on a run. this is magnificent, but i cannot think it very healthful exercise. as gymnasts and prize-fighters grow old and die before their time, so with these human racehorses. dr. hepburn says it exhausts them very early; that they break down with disease of the heart or lungs. they are very liable to rheumatism. this is partly owing to their carelessness. they get heated, and then expose their naked bodies to drafts of cold air, which of course stiffens their limbs, so that an old runner becomes like a foundered horse. but even with all care, the fatigue is very exhausting, and often brings on diseases which take them off in their prime. yet you cannot restrain their speed, any more than that of colts that have never been broken. i often tried to check them, but they "champed at the bit," and after a few vain remonstrances i had to give it up, and "let them slide." we did not stop at fujisawa, where we had slept before, for it is a large and noisy town, but pushed on three miles farther, across a sandy beach to enoshima, a little fishing village, which stands on a point of land jutting out into the sea, so that at high tide it is an island, and at low tide a peninsula. indeed, it is not much more than a projecting rock of a few hundred acres, rising high out of the waters, and covered thickly with groves of trees, among which are several buddhist temples. as we strolled along the top of the cliffs at sunset, there were a dozen points of view where we could sit under the shade of trees a hundred feet above the waves, as on the cliffs of the isle of wight, saying with tennyson: "break, break, break, at the foot of thy crags, o sea!" the next morning we rambled over the hills again, for it was a spot where one could but linger. the bay was alive with boats, as "the fishers went sailing out into the west." on the shore were divers, who plunged from the rocks into deep water, to bring up shells and coral for us, and a sort of sponge peculiar to this country, with spicules like threads of spun glass. under the cliff is a long cave, hollowed out by the waves, with an arch overhead like a vaulted roof. thus under ground or above ground we wandered hour after hour. but all things pleasant must have an end. the week was gone; it was saturday noon: and so reluctantly leaving both the mountains and the sea, and taking to our chariots once more, we struck into the tokaido, and in four hours were rolling along the bund at yokohama. three days after we made a second visit to yedo, to visit an american gentleman who held a position in the foreign office, and spent a night at his pretty japanese house in the government grounds. here being, as it were, in the interior of the state department, we got some european news; among which was the startling intelligence of a revolution in turkey, and that abdul aziz had been deposed! in our second excursion about the city, as we had long distances to traverse, we took two prancing bucks to each jinrikisha, who ran us such a rig through the streets of yedo as made us think of john gilpin when he rode to london town. the fellows were like wild colts, so full of life that they had to kick it off at the heels. sometimes one pulled in front while the other pushed behind, but more often they went tandem, the one in advance drawing by a cord over his shoulder. the leader was so full of spring that he fairly bounded over the ground, and if we came to a little elevation, or arched bridge, he sprang into the air like a catamount, while his fellow behind, though a little more stiff, as a "wheel horse" ought to be, bore himself proudly, tossing up his head, and throwing out his chest, and never lagged for an instant. c---- was delighted, nothing could go too fast for her; but whether it was fear for my character or for my head, i had serious apprehension that i should be "smashed" like chinese crockery, and poked my steeds in the rear with my umbrella to signify that i was entirely satisfied with their performances, and that they need not go any faster! while in yedo we attended a meeting of missionaries, english, scotch, and american, in a distant part of the city, and in the evening paid a visit to prof. verbeck, who has been here so long that he is an authority on all japanese matters. it was eight o'clock when we set out to return to our friends in the foreign office, and we bade our men take us through the main streets, that we might have a view of yedo by night. the distance was some three miles, the greater part through the principal street. it was near the time of the full moon, but fortunately she was hidden to-night by clouds, for even her soft radiance could not give such animation and picturesqueness to the scene as the lights of the city itself. the broad street for two miles was in a flare of gas-light, like one of the great streets of paris. the shops were open and lighted; added to which were hundreds (perhaps thousands) of _jin-riki-shas_, each with its chinese lantern, glancing two and fro, like so many fireflies on a summer night, making a scene such as one reads of in the arabian nights, but as i had never witnessed before. but that which is of most interest to a stranger in japan, is not yedo or fusiyama, but the sudden revolution which has taken place in its relations with other countries, and in its internal condition. this is one of the most remarkable events in history, which, in a few years, has changed a whole nation, so that from being the most isolated, the most exclusive, and the most rigidly conservative, even in asia, it has become the most active and enterprising; the most open to foreign influences; the most hospitable to foreign ideas, and the most ready to introduce foreign improvements. this change has taken japan out of the ranks of the non-progressive nations, to place it, if not in the van of modern improvement, at least not very far in the rear. it has taken it out of the stagnant life of asia, to infuse into its veins the life of europe and america. in a word, it has, as it were, unmoored japan from the coast of asia, and towed it across the pacific, to place it alongside of the new world, to have the same course of life and progress. it is a singular fact, which, as it has united our two nations in the past, ought to unite us in the future, that the opening of japan came from america. it would have come in time from the natural growth of the commerce of the world, but the immediate occasion was the settlement of california. the first emigration, consequent on the discovery of gold, was in ; the treaty with japan in . as soon as there sprang up an american empire on our western coast, there sprang up also an american commerce on the pacific. up to that time, except the whalers from new bedford that went round cape horn, to cast their harpoons in the north pacific, or an occasional vessel to the sandwich islands, or that brought a cargo of tea from china, there were few american ships in the pacific. but now it was ploughed by fleets of ships, and by great lines of steamers. the western coast of america faced the eastern coast of asia, and there must be commerce between them. japan lay in the path to china, and it was inevitable that there must be peaceful intercourse, or there would be armed collision. the time had come when the policy of rigid exclusion could not be permitted any longer. of course japan had the right which belongs to any independent power, to regulate its commerce with foreign nations. but there were certain rights which belonged to all nations, and which might be claimed in the interest of humanity. if an american ship, in crossing the pacific on its way to china, were shipwrecked on the shores of japan, the sailors who escaped the perils of the sea had the right to food and shelter--not to be regarded as trespassers or held as prisoners. yet there had been instances in which such crews had been treated as captives, and shut up in prison. in one instance they were exhibited in cages. if they had fallen among barbary pirates, they could not have been treated with greater severity. this state of things must come to an end; and in gently forcing the issue, our government led the way. as english ships had broken down the wall of china, so did an american fleet open the door of japan, simply by an attitude of firmness and justice; by demanding nothing but what was right, and supporting it by an imposing display of force. thus japan was opened to the commerce of america, and through it of the world, without shedding a drop of blood. the result has been almost beyond belief. a quarter of a century ago no foreign ship could anchor in these waters. and now here, in sight of the spot where lay the fleet of commodore perry, i see a harbor full of foreign ships. it struck me strangely, as i sat at our windows in the grand hotel, and looked out upon the tranquil bay. there lay the tennessee, not with guns run out and matches lighted, but in her peaceful dress, with flags flying, not only from her mast-head, but from all her yards and rigging. there were also several english ships of war, with admiral ryder in command, from whose flag-ship, as from the tennessee, we heard the morning and evening gun, and the bands playing. the scene was most beautiful by moonlight, when the ships lay motionless, and the tall masts cast their shadows on the water, and all was silent, as in so many sleeping camps, save the bells which struck the hours, and marked the successive watches all night long. it seemed as if the angel of peace rested on the moonlit waters, and that nations would not learn war any more. the barrier once broken down, foreign commerce began to enter the waters of japan. american ships appeared at the open ports. as if to give them welcome, lighthouses were built at exposed points on the coast, so that they might approach without danger. a foreign settlement sprung up at yokohama. by and by young men went abroad to see the world, or to be educated in europe or america, and came back with reports of the wealth and power of foreign nations. soon a spirit of imitation took possession of young japan. these students affected even the fashions of foreign countries, and appeared in the streets of yedo in coat and pantaloons, instead of the old japanese dress; and ate no longer with chopsticks, but with knives and forks. thus manners and customs changed, to be followed by a change in laws and in the government itself. till now japan had had a double-headed government, with two sovereigns and two capitals. but now there was a revolution in the country, the tycoon was overthrown, and the mikado, laying aside his seclusion and his invisibility, came from kioto to yedo, and assumed the temporal power, and showed himself to his people. the feudal system was abolished, and the proud daimios--who, with their clans of armed retainers, the _samourai_, or two-sworded men, were independent princes--were stripped of their estates, which sometimes were as large as german principalities, and forced to disband their retainers, and reduced to the place of pensioners of the government. the army and navy were reconstructed on european models. instead of the old japanese war-junks, well-armed frigates were seen in the bay of yedo--a force which has enabled japan to take a very decided tone in dealing with china, in the matter of the island of formosa; and made its power respected along the coast of eastern asia. we saw an embassy from corea passing through the streets of yokohama, on its way to yedo, to pay homage to the mikado, and enter into peaceful relations with japan. a new postal system has been introduced, modelled on our own. in yokohama one sees over a large building the sign "the japanese imperial post-office," and the postman goes his rounds, delivering his letters and papers as in england and america. there is no opposition to the construction of railroads, as in china. steamers ply around the coast and through the inland sea; and telegraphs extend from one end of the empire to the other; and crossing the sea, connect japan with the coast of asia, and with all parts of the world. better than all, the government has adopted a general system of national education, at the head of which is our own prof. murray; it has established schools and colleges, and introduced teachers from europe and america. in yedo i was taken by prof. mccartee to see a large and noble institution for the education of girls, established under the patronage of the empress. these are signs of progress that cannot be paralleled in any other nation in the world. with such an advance in less than one generation, what may we not hope in the generation to come? in her efforts at progress, japan deserves the sympathy and support of the whole civilized world. having responded to the demand for commercial intercourse, she has a just claim to be placed on the footing of the most favored nations. especially is she entitled to expect friendship from our country. as it fell to america to be the instrument of opening japan, it ought to be our pride to show her that the new path into which we led her, is a path of peace and prosperity. japan is our nearest neighbor on the west, as ireland is on the east; and among nations, as among individuals, neighbors ought to be friends. it seemed a good token that the american union church in yokohama should stand on the very spot where commodore perry made his treaty with japan--the beginning, let us hope, of immeasurable good to both nations. as india is a part of the british empire, and may look to england to secure for her the benefits of modern civilization, so the duty of stretching out a hand across the seas to japan, may fairly be laid on the american church and the american people. our visit was coming to an end. a day or two we spent in the shops, buying photographs and bronzes, and in paying farewell visits to the missionaries, who had shown us so much kindness. the "parting cup" of tea we took at dr. hepburn's, and from his windows had a full view of fusiyama, that looked out upon us once more in all his glory. we were to embark that evening, to sail at daylight. mr. john ballagh and several ladies of "the home," who had made us welcome in their pleasant circle, "accompanied us to the ship." we had a long row across the bay just as the moon was rising, covering the waters with silver, and making the great ships look like mighty shadows as they stood up against the sky. "on such a night" we took our farewell of asia. the next morning very early we were sailing down the bay of yedo, and were soon out on the pacific. but the coast remained long in sight, and we sat on deck watching the receding shores of a country which in three weeks had become so familiar and so dear; and when at last it sunk beneath the waters, we left our "benediction" on that beautiful island set in the northern seas. we did not steer straight for san francisco, although it is in nearly the same latitude as yokohama, but turned north, following what navigators call a great circle, on the principle that as they get high up on the globe, the degrees of longitude are shorter, and thus they can "cut across" at the high latitudes. "it is nearer to go around the hill than to go over it." we took a prodigious sweep, following the _kuroshiwo_, or black current, the gulf stream of the pacific, which flows up the coast of asia, and down the coast of america. we bore away to the north till we were off the coast of kamschatka, and within a day's sail of petropaulovski, before we turned east. our ship was "the oceanic," of the famous white star line, which, if not so magnificent as "the city of peking," was quite as swift a sailer, cleaving the waters like a sea-bird. in truth, the albatrosses that came about the ship for days from the aleutian islands, now soaring in air, and now skimming the waters, did not float along more easily or more gracefully. as we crossed the th degree of longitude, just half the way around the world from the royal observatory at greenwich, we "gained a day," or rather, recovered one that we had lost. as we had started eastward, we lost a few minutes each day, and had to set our watches every noon. we were constantly changing our meridian, so that no day ended where it began, and we never had a day of full twenty-four hours, but always a few minutes, like sands, had crumbled away. by the time we reached england, five hours had thus dropped into the sea; and when we had compassed the globe, we had parted, inch by inch, moment by moment, with a whole day. it seemed as if this were so much blotted out from the sum of our being--gone in the vast and wandering air--lost in the eternities, from which nothing is ever recovered. but these lost moments and hours were all gathered up in the chambers of the east, and now in mid-ocean, one morning brought us a day not in the calendar, to be added to the full year. two days bore the same date, the th of june, and as this fell on a sunday, two holy days came together--one the sabbath of asia, the other of america. it seemed fit that this added day should be a sacred one, for it was something taken, as it were, from another portion of time to be added to our lives--a day which came to us fresh from its ocean baptism, with not a tear of sorrow or a thought of sin to stain its purity; and we kept a double sabbath in the midst of the sea. seventeen days on the pacific, with nothing to break the boundless monotony! in all that breadth of ocean which separates asia and america, we saw not a single sail on the horizon; and no land, not even an island, till we came in sight of those shores which are dearer to us than any other in all the round world. here, in sight of land, this story ends. there is no need to tell of crossing the continent, which completed our circuit of the globe, but only to add in a word the lesson and the moral of this long journey. going around the world is an education. it is not a mere pastime; it is often a great fatigue; but it is a means of gaining knowledge which can only be obtained by observation. charles v. used to say that "the more languages a man knew, he was so many more times a man." each new form of human speech introduced him into a new world of thought and life. so in some degree is it in traversing other continents, and mingling with other races. however great america may be, it is "something" to add to it a knowledge of europe and asia. unless one be encased in pride, or given over to "invincible ignorance," it will teach him modesty. he will boast less of his own country, though perhaps he will love it more. he will see the greatness of other nations, and the virtues of other people. even the turbaned orientals may teach us a lesson in dignity and courtesy--a lesson of repose, the want of which is a defect in our national character. in every race there is something good--some touch of gentleness that makes the whole world kin. those that are most strange and far from us, as we approach them, show qualities that win our love and command our respect. in all these wanderings, i have met no rudeness in word or act from turks or arabs, hindoos or malays, chinese or japanese; but have often received kindness from strangers. the one law that obtains in all nations is the law of kindness. have i not a right to say that to know men is to love them, not to hate them nor despise them? he who hath made of one blood all nations of men to dwell on the earth, hath not forgotten any of his children. there is a beauty in every country and in every clime. each zone of the earth is belted with its peculiar vegetation; and there is a beauty alike in the pines on norwegian hills, and the palms on african deserts. so with the diversities of the human race. man inhabits all climes, and though he changes color with the sun, and has many varieties of form and feature, yet the race is the same; all have the same attributes of humanity, and under a white or black skin beats the same human heart. in writing of peoples far remote, my wish has been to bring them nearer, and to bind them to us by closer bonds of sympathy. if these pictures of asia make it a little more real, and inspire the feeling of a common nature with the dusky races that live on the other side of the globe, and so infuse a larger knowledge and a gentler charity, then a traveller's tale may serve as a kind of lay sermon, teaching peace and good will to men.