CHAPTER III.

SINAIC BRANCH.

The nations belonging to the Sinaic branch (from the Latin _Sinæ_,

Chinese) have not the features of the Yellow Race so well defined as

those belonging to the Mongolian branch. Their nose is less flattened,

their figures are better, and they are taller. They early acquired

rather a high degree of civilization, but they have since remained

stationary, and their culture, formerly one of the most advanced in the

world, is now very second rate compared to the progress made by the

inhabitants of Europe and America. Chemical and mechanical arts were

early practised and carried very far by nations belonging to the Sinaic

branch. Living under a despotic government, and accustomed to abjectly

cringe to those in authority, this race developed a peculiar taste for

ceremony and etiquette. Their language is monosyllabic, their writing is

hieroglyphic, and these facts perhaps account for the scant progress

made by their civilization in modern times.

[Illustration: 113.--INDO-CHINESE OF STUNG TRENG.]

The Sinaic branch comprises the Chinese, the Japanese, and the

Indo-Chinese families.

[Illustration: 114.--INDO-CHINESE OF LAOS.]

THE CHINESE FAMILY.

The Chinese, amongst whom, out of all the Yellow Race, civilization was

the first to develop itself, have the following characteristic features.

Width and flatness in the subocular part of the face, prominent cheek

bones, and obliquely set eyes. Their features as a whole partake of the

type of the Mongol race: that is to say, they have a broad coarse face,

high cheek bones, heavy jaws, a flat bridge to their nose, wide

nostrils, obliquely set eyes, straight and plentiful hair, of a brownish

black colour with a red tint in it, thick eyebrows, scanty beards, and a

yellowish red complexion.

They constitute the principal population of the vast empire of China,

and extend even further. Many have settled in Indo-China, in the islands

of the Straits, and in the Philippine islands. China in four thousand

years has been governed by twenty-eight dynasties. The emperor is merely

an ornamental wheel in the mechanism of the Chinese government, the

councillors possessing the real power. Centralization plays a powerful

part in the administrative organization of the country. The emperor’s

authority is founded on a secular and patriarchal respect, boundless in

its influence. Veneration for old age is a law of the state. Infirm old

men, too poor to hire litters, are often seen in the streets of Pekin,

seated in little hand carriages, dragged about by their grandchildren.

As they pass, the young people about receive them respectfully, and

leave off for the moment their play or their work. The government

encourages these feelings by giving yellow dresses to very old men. This

is the highest mark of distinction a private individual can receive, for

yellow is the colour reserved for the members of the imperial family.

Their respect for their ancestors is also carried very far by the

Chinese. They practise a kind of family worship in their honour.

[Illustration: 115.--A YOUNG CHINESE.]

There are many different creeds in China. The Buddhist faith, so widely

spread in Asia, is the most general; but the higher classes follow the

precepts of Confucius. But great religious toleration exists in the

Celestial Empire. The men of the higher classes affect a well founded

contempt for the external forms of worship, and the mass of the people

do not attach much importance to them. Many widely differing creeds are

seen side by side throughout the whole empire.

[Illustration: 116.--CHINESE SHOPKEEPER.]

The Buddhist priests are called Bonzes.

[Illustration: 117.--CHINESE LADY.]

The position of women is in China a humble one. She is considered

inferior to man, and her birth is often regarded as a misfortune. The

young girl lives shut up in her father’s house, she takes her meals

alone, she fulfils the duties of a servant and is considered one. Her

calling is merely to ply the needle and to prepare the food. A woman is

her father’s, her brother’s, or her husband’s property. A young girl is

given in marriage without being consulted, without being made acquainted

with her future husband, and often even in ignorance of his name.

The wealthy Chinese shut their wives up in the women’s apartments. When

their lords and masters allow them to pay one another visits, or to go

and see their parents, they go out in hermetically closed litters. They

live in a wing of the building, reserved for their use, where no one can

see them.

[Illustration: 118.--CHINESE WOMAN.]

It is otherwise amongst the poorer classes. The women go out of doors

with their face uncovered; but they pay dearly for this privilege, for

they are nothing but the beasts of burden of their husbands. They age

very rapidly.

Polygamy exists in China, but only on sufferance. A man of rank may have

several wives, but the first one only is the legitimate one. Widows are

not allowed to remarry. Betrothals often take place before the future

husband and wife have reached the age of puberty. A betrothed girl who

loses her betrothed can never marry another.

[Illustration: 119.--MANDARIN’S DAUGHTER.]

A marriage ceremony at Pekin takes place as follows. The bride goes in

great state to the dwelling of the bridegroom, who receives her on the

threshold. She is dressed in garments embroidered with gold and silver.

Her long black tresses are covered with precious stones and artificial

flowers. Her face is painted, her lips are reddened, her eyebrows are

blackened, and her clothes are drenched with musk. Many of the Chinese

women have the complexion and the good looks of Creoles; a tiny well

shaped hand, pretty teeth, splendid black hair, a slender supple figure,

and obliquely set eyes with a piquancy of expression that lends them a

peculiar charm. The drawback to their appearance is their lavish use of

paint, and their small crippled feet.

The Tartar and Chinese ladies composing the court of the Empress, as

well as the wives of the officials residing in the capital, do nothing

to distort their feet, except to wear the theatrical buskin, in which it

is very difficult to walk. But a Chinese woman of good middle class

family would think herself disgraced, and would have a difficulty in

getting a husband, unless she had crippled her feet. This is what is

done to give them a pleasing appearance. The feet of little girls of six

years of age are tightly compressed with oiled bandages; the big toe is

bent under the other four, which are themselves folded down under the

sole of the foot. These bandages are drawn tighter every month. When the

girl has grown up, her foot presents the appearance of a closed fist.

Women with their feet mutilated in this manner walk with great

difficulty. They move about with a kind of skip, stretching out their

arms to keep their equilibrium.

Another of their conventional points of beauty is to wear their

finger-nails very long. For fear of breaking them they cover them with

little silver sheaths, which they also use as ear-picks.

A quantity of toilet accessories gives a peculiar appearance to the

costume of the inhabitants of the Celestial Empire. Fans, parasols,

pipes, snuff-boxes, tobacco-pouches, spectacle cases, and purses, are

all hung at the girdle by silken strings. The use of the fan is common

to both sexes, of all classes.

The _kang_, at once a bed, a sofa, and a chair; some mats stretched upon

the floor; and a few chairs or stools with cushions on them, are to be

found in every room of a Chinese house. The interior of these dwellings

is a true citadel of sloth. The Chinaman squatted on his mat, dallying

with his fan and smoking his pipe, is amused at the European who

actually takes the trouble to use his legs.

To give a more exact idea of domestic Chinese life, we will give a few

extracts from the interesting travels of M. de Bourboulon, a French

consul in China, travels edited by M. Poussielgue, and published in the

“Tour du Monde” in 1864.

“A Chinese palace,” says M. Poussielgue, “is thus laid out: more than

half the site is taken up with alleys, courts, and gardens crowded with

rock-work, rustic bridges, fishponds full of gold fish, aviaries stocked

with peacocks, golden pheasants, and partridges from Pe-tche-li, and

especially a quantity of painted and varnished porcelain and earthenware

jars, containing miniature trees, vines, jessamines, creepers and

flowers of all kinds. The principal room on the ground floor opens on to

the garden; a piece of open trellis work separates it from the sleeping

apartment. The ground floor also comprises the dining-room, the kitchen,

and sometimes a bath-room. When there is a second story, called _leou_,

it contains beds and lumber rooms. The entrance-hall is invariably

sacred to the ancestors and to the guardian spirits of the family. In

every room the _kang_, which serves as a bed, a sofa, or a chair; and

thick mats, laid upon the floor, are to be met with. The actual

furniture is scanty; a few chairs and stools made of hard wood, with

cushions placed on them; a small table in red lacquer work; an incense

burner; some gilt or enamelled bronze candlesticks; flower stands and

baskets of flowers; some pictures drawn on rice paper; and finally the

inevitable tablet inscribed with some moral apothegm, or a dedication to

the ancestors of the master of the house. There are no regular windows;

a few square openings, pierced in the side wall where the rooms open on

a court or garden, or inserted beneath the double beams supporting the

roof where the apartment might be overlooked from the street or from the

neighbouring houses, allow a dim light to penetrate through the cross

laths of their wooden lattices which serve as fixed blinds to them

(figs. 120 and 121).

“The wealthy, abandoning themselves to a luxurious idleness, spend half

their existence in these secluded chambers; it is almost impossible for

a European to procure admittance to them, for communicative as the

Chinese are in business, at festivals, or at receptions, they are

extremely reserved on all points concerning their domestic life.

[Illustration: 120.--CHINESE BOUDOIR.]

“Physical idleness is carried to an enormous extent in China; it is

considered ill bred to take walks, and to use the limbs. Nothing

surprises the natives more than the perpetual craving for exercise that

characterizes Europeans. Squatted on their hams, they light their pipe,

toy with their fans, and jeer at the European passers-by, whose firm

measured footsteps carry them up and down the street. It is necessary to

make excuses for coming neither on horseback nor in a palanquin, when

paying an official visit, for to do so on foot is a sign of but little

respect for the person visited.

“The palanquin is in constant use. Large depôts of these, where one can

always be hired at a moment’s notice, are established in Peking. A

palanquin carried by six coolies costs about a piastre per day; with

four coolies half a piastre; with only two, a hundred sapecas. The

French Legation keeps twenty-four palanquin porters, dressed in blue

tunics with tricolor collars and facings. Palanquins are usually open

both in front and behind; they have a small window at the side, and a

cross plank on which the passengers sit.

“The rage for gambling is one of the curses of China; a curse that has

begotten a thousand others, in all ranks and at all ages. One meets in

the streets of Peking a quantity of little itinerant gaming stalls;

sometimes consisting of a set of dice in a brass cup on a stand,

sometimes a lottery of little sticks marked with numbers, shaken up by

the croupier in a tin tube. We saw crowds round these sharpers, and the

passing workman, yielding to the irresistible temptation, loses in an

hour his day’s hard earnings. The coolies attached to the French army

used to thus lose their month’s pay the day after they got it; some of

them having pledged their clothes to the croupiers, who do a little

pawnbroking into the bargain, had to make their escape amid the jeers of

the mob, and used to return to camp with nothing on but a pair of

drawers.

“Cock and quail fighting are still practised as an excuse for gambling

by the Chinese, who stake large sums on the result. The wealthy and the

mercantile classes are just as inveterate gamesters as the common

people; they collect in the tea-houses and spend day and night in

playing at cards, at dice, at dominos, and at draughts. Their cards,

about five inches long, are very narrow, and are a good deal like ours,

with figures and pips of different colours marked on them. The game most

in vogue seems to be a kind of cribbage. Their draughtsmen are square,

and the divisions of the board are round. Their dominos are flat, with

red and blue marks. They play at draughts also with dice, a sort of

backgammon. Professional gamblers prefer dice to any other game, as it

is the most gambling of all. When they have lost all their money, they

stake their fields, their house, their children, their wives, and, as a

last resort, themselves when they have nothing else left, and their

antagonist agrees to let them make such a final stake. A shopkeeper of

Tien-tsin, who was minus two fingers of his left hand, had lost them

over the dice box. The women and children are fond of playing at

shuttlecock; it is their favourite game, and they are very expert at it.

The shuttlecock is made of a piece of leather rolled into a ball, with

one or two metal rings round it to steady it; three long feathers are

stuck into holes in these rings. The shuttlecock is kept up with the

soles of their slippers, which they use instead of battledores; it is

very seldom allowed to fall.

“Gambling, which paralyzes labour, is one of the permanent

causes of their pauperism, but there is another, still more

disastrous--dissipation. The thin varnish of decency and restraint with

which Chinese society is covered, conceals a widespread corruption.

Public morality is only a mask worn above a deep depravity surpassing

all that is told in ancient history, all that is known of the dissipated

habits of the Persians and Hindoos of our own day.

“Drunkenness, as understood in Europe, is one of the least of their

vices. The use of grape wine was forbidden, centuries ago, by some of

their emperors, who tore up all the vine trees in China. This

interdiction having been taken off under the Manchú dynasty, grapes are

grown for the use of the table, but the only wine that is drunk is rice

wine or _samchow_. A spirit as strong as our brandy is extracted from

this as well as from coarse millet seed. It induces a terrible form of

intoxication. The abuse of it by our soldiers in the Chinese campaign

caused a great deal of fatal dysentery in the army.

“The tea-houses also sell alcoholic liquor, but the eating-houses and

the taverns drive the largest trade in it.

“We cannot speak of the process of the manufacture of tea, nor of the

vast amount of labour it employs: the subject properly belongs to

southern China; we will only say that the use of tea is as common in the

north as in the south. The moment you enter a house, tea is offered to

you--it is a sign of hospitality to do so. It is given to you in

profusion; the moment your cup is empty, a silent attendant fills it,

and your host will not permit you to mention the subject of your visit

till you have drunk a certain quantity. The tea-houses are as numerous

as cafés and taverns in France; the elegant manner in which they are

furnished, and their high charges, distinguish some from others. The

rich trader and the idle man of fashion, not caring to mix with the

grimy handed workman or the coarse peasant, only frequent those houses

that have a fashionable reputation. Tea-houses can be recognized by the

large range at the end of their rooms, fitted up with huge kettles and

massive tea pots, with ovens and stoves supplying with boiling water

immense caldrons as big as a man. A singular kind of time-piece is

placed above the range; it is made of a large moulded bar of incense

divided off by equidistant marks, so that the lapse of hours can be

measured by its combustion. The Chinese can thus literally use the

expression, “consuming the time.” Morning and evening the rooms are full

of customers, who for two sapecas, the price of entrance, can sit there

and discuss their business, play, smoke, listen to music, or amuse

themselves by looking at the feats of tumblers, jugglers, and athletes.

For the two sapecas they have also the right to drink ten cups of tea

(certainly extremely small ones), with which, on trays covered with

cakes and dried fruits, a crowd of waiters keep running to and fro.

“One day,” says a letter of M. X., a French officer in the 101st

Regiment of the Line, “we determined to dine _à la chinoise_ in a

Chinese eating-house. Our coolies arranged beforehand that the price was

to be two piastres a head, a large sum for this country, where

provisions are so cheap. As a preparation for dinner, we had to thread

our way through a labyrinth of lanes, crowded with dens in which

crouched thousands of ragged beggars, poisoning the atmosphere with

their exhalations. At the entrance to the open space in front of the

eating-house stood a quantity of heaps of refuse, composed of old

vegetable stalks, rotten sausages, and dead cats and dogs, and in every

hole and corner a mass of filth as disagreeable to the nose as to the

eye. It required a strong stomach to retain an appetite after running

the gauntlet of such a horrible mess. A few tea drinkers and card

players were seated at the door, and seemed to care very little for the

pestilential character of the neighbourhood. We tried to be equally

courageous, and after admiring two immense lanterns which adorned the

entrance, and the sign inscribed in big letters, ‘The three principal

Virtues,’ we ventured to hope that honesty would prove one of them, and

that the tavern keeper would give us our money’s worth.

“Our entry into the principal room created a little excitement, for,

accustomed as the Chinese are to see us, we still, in the quarters of

the town where Europeans seldom venture, cause a certain amount of

curiosity, not unmixed with alarm. Two square tables surrounded by

wooden benches, on which had been placed, as a particular favour, some

stuffed cushions, had been prepared for us. The waiters thronged round

us with red earthen tea-pots, and white metal cups; there were no

spoons; boiling water was poured on a pinch of tea leaves, placed at the

bottom of the cups, and we were obliged to drink the infusion through a

small hole in the lid. When we had got through this ordeal like regular

Chinamen, we called for the first course, which consisted of a quantity

of wretched little lard cakes, sweetened with dried fruit; and for

_hors-d’œuvre_, a kind of caviare made of the intestines, the livers,

and the roes of fish pickled in vinegar, and some land shrimps cooked in

salt water; these were really nothing but large locusts. This dish,

however, found in most warm countries, was not at all bad. We did not

get along very well with the first course, which was immediately

followed by the second. The waiters placed on the table some plates, or

rather saucers, for they were no bigger, and some bowl-shaped dishes,

full of rice dressed in different ways with small pieces of meat

arranged in pyramids on top of it. Chop-sticks accompanied these savoury

dishes. What were we to do? Nobody but a regular Chinese can help

himself with these two little bits of wood, one of which is usually held

stationary between the thumb and the ring finger, while the other is

shifted about between the fore and middle fingers. The natives lift the

saucers to their lips, and swallow the rice by pushing it into their

mouth with the chop-sticks, but we tried to accomplish this in vain, and

all the more so, that our fits of laughter prevented us from making any

really earnest attempt. It was, however, impossible for us to compromise

the dignity of our civilization by eating with our fingers like savages,

and happily one of our number, with more forethought than the rest, had

brought with him a travelling case holding a spoon, and a knife and

fork. We then each in turn dipped the spoon into the bowls before us,

with an amount of suspicion, however, that prevented the proper

appreciation of the highly flavoured messes they contained. At last some

less mysterious dishes, in quantity enough to satisfy fifty people, made

their appearance; chickens, ducks, mutton, pork, roast hare, fish and

boiled vegetables. White grape wine and rice wine were at the same time

handed to us in microscopic cups of painted porcelain. None of the

beverages were sweet, not even the tea, but to make up for it they were

all boiling hot. The meal was brought to a close by a bowl of soup,

which was really an enormous piece of stewed meat swimming about in a

sea of gravy.

[Illustration: 121.--CHINESE SITTING-ROOM.]

“Satiated rather than satisfied, we should have preferred some more

Chinese dishes; some swallows’ nests, or a stew of _ging-seng_ roots,

but it appears that such delicacies as these must be ordered for days

beforehand, and paid for by their weight in gold. We swallowed a glass

of tafia, a liquor which is becoming quite fashionable in Chinese

eating-houses, and lighting our cigars looked about us. The day was

drawing to a close; the tavern rooms, which were at first nearly empty,

were filling with customers, who after furtively scanning us, betook

themselves to their usual occupations. The waiter kept calling out in a

loud voice the names and the prices of the dishes that were ordered, and

these were repeated by an attendant standing at the counter behind which

sat the master of the place. Some shop-keepers were playing at pigeon

fly; one held up as many of the fingers of both hands as he thought fit,

his antagonist had to guess immediately how many, and to hold up

simultaneously exactly the same number of his own. The loser paid for a

cup of rice wine.

“The room was beginning to reek with a nauseous odour, in which we

recognised the smell of opium smoke. It was the hour for that fatal

infatuation. Smokers with sallow complexions and hollow eyes, began to

disappear mysteriously into some closets at the end of the room. We

could see them lying down on mat beddings, with hard horsehair pillows.”

Fig. 122 shows one of these closets kept for the use of opium-smokers.

The utensils and paraphernalia necessary for the preparation and

lighting of the opium pipe, lie on the table.

Agriculture has in China reached a remarkable degree of perfection. It

is the great source of the wealth of the country; it is the progress it

has attained that allows the Celestial Empire to support such an immense

population in a relatively confined area. The profession of

agriculturist is consequently held in great respect. We will quote M.

Poussielgue on the subject:

“Towards the end of March, 1861,” says that writer, “Prince Kong, the

Imperial regent, proceeded in great state to the Temple of Agriculture,

on the outskirts of the Chinese part of the town of Peking, and, after

offering sacrifices to the guardian Deity of mankind, who encourages

their labour by giving them the gifts of the earth, put his own hand to

the plough, and turned up several furrows; a crowd of notabilities,

ministers, masters of the ceremonies, the great officers of state, three

princes of the Imperial family, and a deputation of labourers

accompanied the Emperor’s representative. As soon as Prince Kong had

finished ploughing the plot of ground reserved for him, and marked out

with yellow flags, the three Imperial princes, followed by the nine

chief dignitaries of the empire, took their turn at the plough, till the

whole field was covered with furrows, in which mandarins of lesser rank

scattered the seed, whilst labourers covered with rakes and rollers the

sacred germs entrusted to the ground. During the whole ceremony, choirs

of music made the air resound with their harmony.

[Illustration: 122.--OPIUM-SMOKERS.]

“This intellectual patronage, this ennobling of agriculture, has had

immense results. No country in the world is cultivated with so much

care, or perhaps, with more success than China. It does not contain a

square inch of waste ground.

“In the province of Pe-tche-li, where land is very much cut up into

small lots, agricultural operations are conducted on a limited scale,

but the intelligent manner in which they are carried out, makes up for

the inconveniences of this parcelling out. But few villages are seen

there, but in compensation for their absence a quantity of farms and

farm-houses nestle here and there under the shade of lofty trees. The

buildings take up but little room, and so economical are the peasants of

the soil, that they place their hayricks and their wheat sheaves on the

flat roofs of their dwellings. Fig. 123 represents their system.

“If, however, they are saving of the soil, they are not sparing of

pains. Thanks to the abundance and cheapness of labour, they have been

able to adopt a system of cultivating the earth in alternate rows, and

thus never to let the ground lie fallow, but to have a succession of

crops during the whole summer. Between the rows of the sorgho (_holcus

sorghum_), which reaches a height of ten or twelve feet, they sow a

plant of lesser growth, the smaller kind of millet, which thrives in the

shade of its gigantic neighbour. When they have reaped the sorgho, the

millet, exposed to the rays of the sun, ripens in its turn; they plant

rows of beans in the midst of their maize fields, and the former ripens

before the latter, of slower growth, is big enough to choke them. They

plant the earth they dig out of their draining trenches with castor-oil

or cotton plants, whose large green leaves make a kind of hedge to the

cornfields. And when the soil is barren and full of stones they plant it

with the resinous pine, or with the _cathsé_, an oily plant that

flourishes on the poorest ground.

“Nothing is more stirring than the picture presented by the wide plains

of Pe-tche-li at harvest time. The toil of the husbandman has brought

forth its fruit; the crops of all kinds fill to overflowing the

granaries; threshers, winnowers and reapers, with crowds of gleaning

women and children, fill the air with their joyous songs, as half

stripped beneath the glowing sun, with their pig-tails wound around

their heads, they zealously toil on from daybreak to night fall, only

leaving off for a few moments to swallow an onion or two, or a handful

of rice, to take a few whiffs at their pipe, or to vigorously fan

themselves when the heat becomes unbearable, and the perspiration is

running down their stalwart limbs.

[Illustration: 123.--CHINESE AGRICULTURE.]

“Water in this province is as little neglected as the land:

“Pisciculture is practised on a large scale and in the most intelligent

manner. When spring returns, a quantity of vendors of fish spawn

perambulate the country to sell this precious spat to the pond owners.

The eggs, fecundated by the milt, are carried about in small barrels

full of damp moss. These spawn-sellers are followed by hawkers of young

fry, skilful divers who catch in very fine nets the new born fish

reposing in the holes in the river beds. These fry are reared in special

ponds, and disseminated when they have grown bigger in the lakes and

larger pieces of water. The Chinese have succeeded in rearing and

preserving in artificial basins the most interesting and most productive

species of their rivers. In the immense lakes close to the Temple of

Heaven at Peking, they rear gold fish, a kind of bream weighing

sometimes as much as twenty-five pounds, carp, and the celebrated

_kia-yu_, a domestic fish. Morning and evening the keepers bring herbs

and grains for the fish, which greedily eat them, and which soon reach a

considerable size, thanks to this fattening diet. A lake managed in this

way is a greater source of revenue to its owner than the most fruitful

fields.

“The sea-shore at the mouth of the Peï-ho is covered with parks to hold

the fish at low water. These are made of several lengths of blue cotton

stuff stretched on a cane framework, which is fastened to a quantity of

small stakes. This framework folds in any direction like the leaves of a

screen. A drag net is also used by the inhabitants of the coast. Soles,

sea toads, bream, gold fish, whiting, cod and a quantity of other fish

are caught in the gulf of Pe-tche-li. Many cetaceous fish are also found

there, dolphins, several kinds of sharks, amongst them the tiger shark

(_Squalus tigrinus_), whose striped and spotted skin is used in several

manufactures, and a large species of turtle.

[Illustration: 124.--CHINESE FISHING.]

“River fishing, with which we are better acquainted, is followed in

several ingenious fashions. There is trained cormorant fishing, fly

fishing, harpoon fishing, rod fishing, and net fishing; dams are also

placed across the streams at the travelling periods of migratory fish.

The Pei-ho, crowded with fishermen, presents a most lively appearance;

on its surface you see large boats containing whole families; the women

occupied in mending the nets, in making osier fishing-rods, in cleaning

and salting the day’s catch, and in carrying in vases the fish they wish

to keep alive; the little children, with their waists girdled with a

life belt of pigs’ bladders, running about and climbing like cats up the

masts and the rigging; the men dropping their large nets perpendicularly

into the water, and easily raising them again by a piece of ingenious

mechanism consisting of a wooden counterpoise on which they lean the

whole weight of their body (fig. 124), others watching their nets lying

at the bottom of the stream, their whereabouts indicated by the wooden

floats that are bobbing up and down here and there; others again

descending the river with the current and harpooning the larger fish

with a harpoon fastened to the wrist by a strong cord. To avoid alarming

their prey, they have invented a kind of raft, made of a couple of beams

fastened together with wooden rungs ladderwise; the stem is pointed, and

in the stern, which is square, a paddle is kept with which they steer

themselves. By a wonderful piece of equilibrium they manage to keep in

an upright position, their feet on different rungs, with one hand

stretched out grasping the harpoon, and their head extended to catch a

sight of the fish as it sleeps in the sunshine on the top of the water.

It is a stirring sight to see five or six fishermen abreast, descending

with the current on these frail barks. They wear a broad-brimmed straw

hat, and their clothing consists of a waterproof jerkin of woven cane,

and a pair of drawers made of small pieces of reed stitched together.

Their naked arms and legs are muscular and bronzed, their countenance is

resolute, and its calm expression shows that they are inured to danger.

Although it often happens that the harpooned fish, more powerful than

the harpooner, makes the latter lose his balance and tumble into the

water, when his only means of safety lie in cutting the rope fastened to

his wrist to save himself from being dragged under, accidents are seldom

heard of, for all are excellent swimmers. At night a strange noise is

heard on the river, lighted up with resin torches; the fishermen rush

about the stream beating wooden drums to drive the fish towards the

spots where they have stretched their nets.”

Living is very cheap in China, owing to the skill of the agricultural

labourers and that of the artisans and mechanics. A whole family can

cook its meals with one or two pounds of dried grass, which costs about

a penny a pound. Fire-places are very little used, except in the more

northern provinces; but warm clothing is worn when the climate makes it

necessary. The dwellings have a low pitch, so that with the coal found

in many of the provinces, with the prunings of the trees, and with the

roots of the mountain shrubs, their inhabitants can cheaply procure the

fuel necessary to warm themselves with.[7]

[7] Simon, Report of the Acclimatization Society, March, 1869.

There is a great scarcity of forests in China, as the country has been

entirely denuded to support its teeming population. Grazing fields are

equally scarce, so that butcher’s meat, beef or mutton, is dear. The

inhabitants however get along without it, thanks to the numerous

streams, rivers, lakes, and canals which intersect China, and swarm with

fish. Fishing does not take place in the streams of running water alone.

Fish are caught in the rice fields, and even in the pools caused by the

heavy rains, so rapid is the production of these animals.

[Illustration: 125.--THE CUSTOM-HOUSE AT SHANGHAI.]

A kind of fish exists in China which multiplies at such an astonishing

rate, that it produces two broods in a month, this fish is consequently

not more than a penny and the dearest tenpence a pound. All kinds of

fisheries are carried on--net, rod, otter and cormorant fishing. It is

thus that animal food for four hundred millions of inhabitants is

provided.

Pigs, ducks, and chickens are also a great resource. Pork has become

such a general article of food, that its cost is higher than that of

beef, although the latter is much the scarcest.

The ducks are found in flocks of three or four thousand on the lakes and

pieces of water. They are watched by children in a kind of small canoe.

Sometimes the drakes bring the ducklings to the water, keeping guard

over them from the bank, and recalling them when necessary with a sharp

piercing cry which the young ones perfectly understand.

There is a large trade in ducks. They dry them by putting them between a

couple of planks like plants; and they are sent in this guise to the

most remote parts of the empire. Dogs of a particular breed, reared for

the market in the southern provinces, are prepared in the same way, but

only for the consumption of the very poorest classes. Goats and sheep

are also rather largely made use of for food, but not to such an extent

as pigs, ducks and chickens.

It may be seen therefore that the Chinese have learnt how to supply the

place of the larger kind of butcher’s meat.

Vegetables however form the staple of their food. This explains how it

is possible for four hundred millions of inhabitants to exist in a

country whose acreage is not more than four or five times that of

France. Chinese horticulture contains eighty different kinds of

vegetables, and out of these eighty, at least twenty-five constitute a

direct article of food for man. But the most precious of all is rice,

and the Chinese spare no pains in perfecting its cultivation. In aid of

this cultivation they have sacrificed their forests, dug immense lakes,

and even pierced lofty mountains. For its sake they collect the water of

both stream and river, and direct its course from the mountain’s foot

over the soil they wish to irrigate. Perhaps no greater or more

grandiose work exists in the whole world than the gigantic hydraulic

system which, throughout the whole of China, from the west to the sea

coast, directs the flow of its waters, and pours them over the fields of

every tiller of its soil.

This great work was carried out four thousand years ago, but public

gratitude has not forgotten its promoter. They still point out not far

from Ning-po, the field where the little peasant used to work who after

accomplishing his enterprise became the great emperor Yu. All the

inhabitants of the canton where he was born are considered as his

descendants or as those of his family, and are exempt from taxation; and

the anniversary of his birth is celebrated every year in a special

temple with as much zeal as if the benefits he has bestowed were things

of yesterday.

The Chinese do their best not only for rice, but for every kind of

produce, or to put it better, for the earth itself, the earth that

brings it forth. Agriculture to the Chinese is more than a calling, it

is almost a religion. The Chinaman repeats to himself these words of the

old Persian law: “Be thou just to the plant, to the bull, and to the

horse; nor be thou unmindful of the dog. The earth has a right to be

sown; neglect it and it will curse thee, fertilize it and it will be

grateful to thee. It says to him who tills it from the right to the

left, and from the left to the right, may thy fields bring forth of all

that is good to eat, and may thy countless villages abound with

prosperity.” It adds again, “Labour and sow: the sower who sows with

purity obeys the whole law.”

When the earth therefore does not produce abundant crops, the Chinese

lay the blame on themselves. They purify themselves and fast. Confucius,

besides, has said: “If you wish for good agriculture, be of pure

morals.”[8]

[8] Simon, Report of the Acclimatization Society, March, 1869.

The soil in China yields as much as ten thousand pounds of rice to

every acre. Such a result says a great deal for their rural morals.

While occupied in making the earth yield so plentifully, they have no

time for evil thoughts or actions. A moralist has said, “There can be no

cultivation without public order. Justice is begotten of the furrow.

Ceres, who at Thebes and at Athens brought men together and made the

laws, is the reflecting mind of men who till the soil.”[9] How could

Chinese agriculture be possible without a system of law, when for the

success of its rice fields it is so dependent on water, which is so

easily cut off, for the very essence of its fruitfulness. The

uninterrupted distribution of its waters, in the midst of such an

immense rural population, is a symptom of great honesty and fairness

among the inhabitants of the Celestial Empire.

[9] Simon, Report of the Acclimatization Society, March, 1869.

Thus we see that patience, gentleness, justice and benevolence are the

predominant Chinese qualities. The Chinese have been often reproached

with being atheists; but the _devotion of labour_, the purifications and

the atonements to which they submit at the smallest warning from Heaven,

free them from this reproach.

The Bonzes, the priests of the Buddhist faith, are treated by the

Chinese with great respect. If this nation is not really a very

religious one, at least it venerates and respects the ministers of

religion.

Fig. 126 shows the usual dress of the Bonzes.

Education is widely spread in China; schools abound there. Chinese

literature, without possessing very numerous works worthy of

remembrance, has produced a good deal worthy of esteem.

The Theatre is a recreation much sought after by the people and by the

educated classes.

[Illustration:

_P. Sellier, p.^{t}_

_Imp. Dupuy, 22, R. des Petits Hôtels_

_G. Regamey, lith._

JAPANESE

CHINESE

YELLOW OR MONGOLIAN RACE]

We will make a few extracts on these points from the travels of M. de

Bourboulon, edited by M. Poussielgue, which we have already quoted:

“Their Book of Rites,” says M. Poussielgue, “directs that the education

of the child of wealthy parents shall commence from the hour even of its

birth, and bids the mother take great precautions in choosing its

nurses, whom it only tolerates. A child is weaned the moment it can lift

its hand to its mouth. At six years of age the elementary principles of

arithmetic and geography are taught him; at seven he is separated from

his mother and sisters, and no longer allowed to take meals with

them; at eight the usages of politeness are instilled into him; the

following year he is taught the astrological calendar; at ten he is sent

to a public school, where the master teaches him to read and write and

to calculate; between the ages of thirteen and fifteen he receives music

lessons and sings moral maxims instead of his hymns; at fifteen come

gymnastics, the use of arms, and riding; finally at twenty years of age,

if he is considered worthy of it, he receives the virile cap, and

changes his cotton clothing for silk garments and furs; he is also

generally married at this age.

[Illustration: 126.--CHINESE BONZE.]

“The Chinese schoolmasters (fig. 127) are rejected men of letters who

have not succeeded in passing the examinations for civil employment.

They make their scholars call out their lessons in a loud voice, and

seem to have long since appreciated the value of the system of mutual

instruction. They chastise culprits with their pigtails and with

cat-o’-nine-tails, striking them heavy blows on the hands and on the

back. Moral penalties are also inflicted; a writing fastened to his back

holds up the idle schoolboy to public contempt. The poorest class of

children are taught gratuitously in the schools.

“The importance attached by the Chinese to the writing, the reading, the

grammar, and the thorough knowledge of their language, springs from its

inherent difficulties.

“The ancient Chinese writing was ideographic, that is to say, it

represented objects by drawn characters, similar to the Egyptian system

of hieroglyphics, instead of being phonetic, that is, composed of signs

corresponding with the sounds of the spoken language. Their primitive

characters, two hundred and fourteen in number, were rough figures

imperfectly representing material objects. Ideographical writing, the

use of which by semi-barbarous peoples is easily explained, must be

rather awkward for civilized men desiring to express abstract ideas. The

Chinese have ingeniously modified their characters, so as to render them

capable of satisfying the wants of their growing civilization. Anger was

represented by a heart under a bond, a sign of slavery; friendship by

two pearls exactly alike; history, by a hand holding the emblem of

equity. As it was soon found that these ingenious figures were no longer

sufficient, they were combined in an infinite number of ways; they were

altered and multiplied to such an extent, that it takes all the science

of an old man of letters to recognize the designs of the primitive

writing in the present characters, which are more than forty thousand in

number. It is in this way that their modern writing was gradually

formed, an emblematic writing which does not correspond with the spoken

language, the one solitary exception to the rule among all civilized

nations.

“It is therefore easily to be understood that to read and write the

Chinese language is a science exacting severe study from natives of the

country, as well as from foreigners: besides, even its grammatical rules

vary very much. There are three kinds of style: the ancient or sublime

style, used in the old canonical books; the academical style, which is

adopted for official and literary documents; and the common style.

[Illustration: 127.--CHINESE SCHOOLMASTER.]

“The Chinese attach much importance to an elegant handwriting, a clever

calligrapher, or to use their own expression, a clever brush, is worthy

of their admiration. Captain Bouvier and one of the interpreters of the

French legation, were one day paying a visit to Tchong-louen, one of

the leading officials of Peking; his son, a mandarin with the blue

button, a young man of twenty-two, and already father of a child--that

is to say of a son, for girls do not count for anything--was present in

the reception-room. Tchong-louen, wishing to give an idea of his son’s

precocious accomplishments to his visitors, sent for a large cartoon in

which the youth had traced in splendid outlines, the word _longevity_,

and showed it to them with as much pride as if it had been the

certificate of some noble action or a literary work. The rooms of every

house contain similar cartoons, hung upon their walls as we in Europe

hang paintings.

“The appearance of Chinese writing is very odd; the characters are

placed one under the other in vertical lines, and run from right to

left; in a word, on this point as in many others, the Chinese proceed in

a manner diametrically opposed to ours. The position in which the

characters are placed is besides very important; for instance, the

Emperor’s name must be written with two letters higher than the others,

to omit this would be to commit treason. Everybody is familiar with

Chinese or Indian ink. It is with this substance, diluted in water and

used with a brush, that the Chinese trace the letters of their writing,

holding their hands perpendicularly, instead of placing them

horizontally, on the paper.

“Their spoken language is much less difficult; it is composed of

monosyllables, the union of which, in an infinite number of ways,

expresses every possible idea. I must not forget the accents which give

a difference of tone and expression to the monosyllabic roots. The

language of the south differs sufficiently from that of the north to

prevent the natives from understanding one another without the

assistance of the brush. Moreover, every province has its particular

dialect.

“In spite of the difficulties presented by the reading and writing of

the Chinese character, China is doubtless the land in which primary

instruction is most widely spread. Schools are found even in the

smallest hamlets whose rustics deprive themselves of some of their

gains, in order to pay a schoolmaster. It is very seldom you meet with

an entirely uneducated Chinese. The workmen and the peasants are capable

of writing their own letters, reading the government bills and

proclamations, and making notes of their daily business. Teaching in the

primary schools has for its basis, the San-tse-king, a sacred book

attributed to a disciple of Confucius, which sums up in a hundred and

sixty-eight lines all acquired knowledge and science. This little

encyclopædia, properly explained and commented on by the teacher,

suffices to give Chinese children a taste for positive knowledge, and

even to give them the desire of acquiring a wider education. There are

also colleges in the large towns where the children of the men of

letters and of the mandarins receive a complete education. Such among

others is the Imperial College at Peking.

[Illustration: 128.--CHINESE LOCOMOTION.]

“The citizens of the Celestial Empire enjoy thorough liberty of the

press, but at their own risk and peril. The government, which has no

right to forbid any publication, revenges itself afterwards by

inflicting the bastinado on the authors of the pamphlets and the

virulent satires that daily appear attacking it. A great quantity of

small portable printing-presses exists among private individuals who

both use and abuse them. There is no country in the world where the

walls are so thickly covered with bills and advertisements.

“The Chinese have practised the typographical art from time immemorial;

but as their alphabet is composed of more than forty thousand letters,

they could not make use of moveable type; they restricted themselves

therefore to carving on a piece of hard board the characters they

required, to wetting these characters with ink and to striking off a

number of copies, by applying different sheets of paper to the board.

Their binders, in opposition to ours, make these leaves up into a volume

by fastening them together by their edges. A note in the preface

generally mentions the place where the boards that printed the first

edition of the work have been deposited.

“There are in Peking several daily papers, amongst others the _Official

Gazette_, a government print, the subscription for which is a piastre

quarterly. This print, published in pamphlet shape, is a rectangular

publication containing a dozen pages, with a likeness of the philosopher

Meng-tsen on the cover. It contains a summary of all public matters, and

all leading events, the petitions and memorials addressed to the

Emperor, his decrees, the edicts of the viceroys of the provinces,

judicial ceremonies and letters of pardon, the custom-house tariffs, the

court circular, the news of the day, fires, crimes, &c., and finally the

incidents, fortunate or unfortunate, of the war against the rebel

Tae-pings. It even acknowledges the Imperial defeats, a piece of

frankness worthy of notice by the official organs of Europe and

America.

“The Chinese have a traditional and quasi-religious respect for the

preservation of all printed and written papers; they are carefully

collected and burnt when read, so as to put them beyond the reach of

profanation. It is even asserted that societies exist who pay porters to

go from street to street with enormous baskets to pick up fragments.

These new kind of rag-gatherers are paid for saving the waifs and strays

of human thought.

“Art like literature has been carried to some extent in an utilitarian

and manufacturing sense. But imaginative art, the ideally beautiful, is

a thing a Chinese does not understand.

“While acknowledging the skill with which the Chinese have written on

social economy, on philosophy, on history, and on all moral and

political science based on experience and logic, we must note the

scarcity of their purely literary works. It must not however, be

concluded that China, unlike every civilized country, does not possess

plenty of poets, novelists and dramatic authors; but their little

esteemed and badly remunerated productions are ephemeral. To-day an ode,

something appropriate to the moment, is written, it is recited or played

in the midst of applause, and to-morrow nothing remains of it.

“Theatrical propensities are nevertheless very strongly developed among

the Chinese, and the cause of this forgetfulness, this neglect is that

they are ashamed of attaching too much importance to a futile amusement.

The managers of the theatres are generally the authors of the pieces

they represent, or at any rate they modify them according to the

exigencies of the actors and the suitability of the costumes. There are

no permanent or authorized theatres in Peking: the government only

allows their temporary construction in the open spaces of the town for a

limited period during public festivals. Theatrical representations,

however, take place in many of the tea-houses, which are analogous to

our music-halls, and in nearly all the dwellings of the wealthy, who,

every time they hire a company of actors to celebrate a family

anniversary, take care, with an eye to popularity, to allow the public

free ingress into that part of their house reserved for the auditorium.”

“I have just been present,” relates M. Trèves, “at a theatrical

representation given by the secretary of state Tchong-louen in the

gardens of his palace in the Tartar town, in honour of the new year. The

theatre was something like those constructed in Paris on the esplanade

of the Invalides on the occasion of the Emperor’s fête: it was an ample

quadrilateral building in the shape of a Greek temple, supported on

either side by four columns painted in sky-blue, golden, and scarlet

stripes, and with a proscenium covered with carvings and decorations.

The stage, much wider than it was deep, was a wooden platform raised

about six feet above the level of the rest of the building. An immense

screen shuts off the back passages, where the actors dress themselves

and get themselves up. There was no scenery, only two or three chairs

and a carpet. The circular hall reserved for the audience, very large in

proportion to the stage, was paved with white marble; it was not roofed

in, and the only shelter for the spectators was the shade cast by the

large trees of the garden (fig. 129).

“We took our places on a reserved platform, placed expressly for us in

front of the stage; on either side were boxes with bamboo blinds whence

the wives of our host and those of his guests looked on at the play: to

prevent their being seen, they wore veils of silk net. The guests of

lower rank were seated in the first row, on chairs grouped round small

tables capable of accommodating four or five people. Behind them I could

see a swarm of human heads; these were the public who crowded and

pressed together to enjoy the spectacle for which they were indebted to

the munificence of the illustrious Tchong-louen. At Peking as in Paris,

the common people willingly undergo for the sake of amusement the

fatigue of standing, without any means of resting themselves, for hours

together. A few indulgent fathers had two or three children perched upon

their backs, and upon their shoulders, but I could not see a single

woman.

“At a signal given from our dais, the orchestra, placed at one wing of

the stage, and consisting of two flutes, a drum and a harp, began a

charivari which took the place of an overture; then the screen opened,

and the actors all appeared in their ordinary dress, and after bowing so

deeply that their foreheads touched the ground, their leader advanced to

the edge of the stage and commenced a pompous recital of the dramas they

were going to perform.”

Here the writer gives a description of the pieces represented, which

were kinds of allegories and historical pageants. Besides these regular

theatrical representations, there are in Peking many acrobatic troops,

male and female rope-dancers, and itinerant circuses.

[Illustration: 129.--A CHINESE PLAY.]

Marionettes, absolutely identical with those in Europe, are seen in

China. Which nation is their inventor? The name by which they have

passed from time immemorial in France, _ombres chinoises_, seems to

prove that their origin is Chinese. Hidden by ample drapery of blue

cotton stuff, the man who moves the puppets stands on a stool. A case

representing a little stage is placed on his shoulders and rises above

his head, while his hands work without revealing the mechanical means he

uses to impart the movements of players to these tiny automatons.

We will end our account of the Chinese with a glance at their

administration of justice and their judicial forms. We again quote from

M. Poussielgue:

“There is a direct relation in China between the penal judicial code and

family organization. If the Emperor is the father and the mother of his

subjects, the magistrates who represent him are also the father and

mother of those they rule over. Every outrage against the law is an

outrage upon the family. Impiety, one of the greatest crimes foreseen

and punished by the law, is really nothing but a want of respect for

parents. This is how the penal code defines impiety. ‘He is impious who

insults his nearest relations, or he who brings an action against them,

or who does not go into mourning for them, or who does not venerate

their memory, or he who is wanting in the attention due to those to whom

he owes his existence, by whom he has been educated, or by whom he has

been protected and assisted.’ The punishments incurred for the crime of

impiety are terrible; we intend to speak of them later.

“In thus carrying the feeling of what is due to family ties into the

region of politics, the Chinese legislators have created a governmental

machinery of prodigious power, which has lasted for thirty centuries,

and which, neither the numerous revolutions and dynastic changes,

neither the antagonism of the northern and southern races, neither the

immense territorial extent of the empire, neither religious scepticism,

nor finally the selfish creed of materialism developed to excess by a

decayed and stationary civilization, have been able to destroy, or even

seriously to disturb.

[Illustration: 130.--A CHINESE JUNK.]

“Amongst the supreme courts that sit at Peking, is the Court of Appeal

or Cassation (Ta-li-sse). Next to it come the assizes held in the chief

towns of each province, and presided over by a special magistrate

bearing the title of Commissary of the Court of Offences. A second

magistrate of inferior rank exercises the duties of public accuser at

these assizes. In towns of second and third importance inferior

tribunals exist which have but one judge, the mandarin or the

sub-prefect of the department. The punishments that can be awarded by

the latter are limited; when the crime deserves a greater chastisement,

the prisoner is sent to the assizes held in the chief town of his

province: if this tribunal sentences him to death, the proceedings must

be sent to the Court of Appeal at Peking, where a final decision is

pronounced at the autumn sittings. Thus no provincial tribunal has the

power of sentencing a prisoner to death; although in special cases, such

as an armed insurrection, a governor can be invested with extreme power,

similar to that conferred in Europe by martial law. Finally there are in

every part of the empire, courts of information where the sub-prefect,

in the course of his quarterly circuit, has to hear what is taking

place, decide differences, and deliver moral lectures to the public; but

this excellent institution has fallen into disuse in consequence of the

relaxation of governmental authority and the carelessness of the

mandarins.

“The result of this judicial organization is that the sub-prefect is

invested with the entire correctional power within the limits of his

civil jurisdiction, a very faulty state of things, which has been the

cause of enormous abuses.

“There are no advocates in China, and, as has been seen, very few

judges. Consequently the mode of administering justice is very summary,

and the guarantees enjoyed by a prisoner amount to nothing. His friends

or relations can, it is true, plead in his favour, but it is of no use,

unless it happens to suit the mandarin at the head of the tribunal. As

for the witnesses, they are liable to be flogged with a rattan,

accordingly as their evidence is agreeable or not. Generally speaking,

the long-winded witnesses are the most disagreeable to the mandarin who

has a mass of matters to settle, and whose time does not allow him to

enter into petty details. In point of fact the prisoner’s acquittal or

condemnation depends upon the subaltern officers of the court, who

prepare the proceedings in a manner favourable to the prisoners or the

reverse, accordingly as they have received more or less money from his

friends.

“If there is something to be praised in Chinese jurisprudence, the way

in which the punishments are carried out is on the contrary shocking.

Man is considered as a being sensitive only to physical agony and to

death; Chinese legislators have not sought to restrain him by his

honour, by his pride in himself, nor even by his self interest. The

penal code consists mainly of the bastinado, inflicted with a thick

bamboo cane, with the thick end or the thin one, and consisting of from

ten up to two hundred blows, as the crime is trifling or serious, or as

the object stolen is of little or of great value. The bastinado is given

immediately in presence of the tribunal. The most common punishments,

are, after the bastinado, the cangue, the pillory, imprisonment and

perpetual exile into Tartary for mandarins who have committed political

offences. We have mentioned that the High Court of Appeal alone can

decide on a death sentence; but the sufferings inflicted by the orders

of the inferior tribunals are so horrible, the executioners are so

ingenious in varying the tortures without causing death, the management

of the prisons is so hateful, and finally a man sentenced to the cangue,

the pillory, or the cage is exposed to such horrible anguish, that when

the death-warrant arrives from Peking, the unfortunate wretch goes

cheerfully to the scaffold, as if his last day were really the day of

his deliverance.

[Illustration: 131.--CHINESE BEGGARS.]

“Capital punishment, horribly varied in bygone days, is now only

inflicted in three ways; strangulation, decapitation, and the slow death

by stabbing.

“Strangulation is effected by means of a silken cord that two

executioners pull at each end, or by an iron collar tightened by a

screw, very much like the _garote_ at present used in Spain.

Strangulation by the silken cord, is reserved for the princes of the

Imperial family; the iron collar is used to destroy, in the silence of

the prison, those whose death it is desired to conceal.

“In public, the only mode of execution is decapitation, applied to all

vulgar crimes. The preparations for this mode of death are very simple,

and its action very rapid, owing to the temper and weight of the swords,

and the skill of those who wield them. The guillotine never attained the

lightning-like rapidity of the satellites of the dreaded Yeh, the

viceroy from whom the Anglo-French delivered the province of Canton;

they could strike off a hundred heads in a few moments. Their master

used to boast that their skill was derived from a hundred thousand

subjects of experiment he had furnished them with in less than two

years.

“The slow death of stabbing is inflicted for the crimes of treason,

parricide, and incest. The preparation for this mode of punishment must

double the miseries of the condemned convict. Securely tied to a post,

his feet and hands fastened with ropes, his head is placed in a kind of

pillory, while the magistrate delegated to witness the execution of the

sentence, draws from a covered basket a knife, on the handle of which is

written the part of the body in which it is to be inserted. This

horrible torture is continued until chance selects the heart, or some

other vital part. We hasten to add, that generally the convict’s

friends purchase the connivance of the magistrate, who takes care to

draw at the very first venture, the knife intended for the mortal blow.

“It is little wonder that the Chinese accustomed to such penalties, and

to the hideous and frequent spectacles they afford, should early become

inured to the idea of death, and that even their women and children

should possess in the highest degree the passive courage which enables

them to meet it with calmness. For many of these poor people, death is

only the welcome termination of a miserable and painful existence.

“I had the curiosity to be present at one of the last sittings of the

Court, and at my request a place was reserved for me, where I could see

without being seen.

[Illustration: 132.--CHINESE PUNISHMENT.]

“The hall of justice had nothing remarkable in an architectural sense.

It was surrounded by a lofty wall, nearly as high as the principal

edifice. The first court is enclosed by buildings used as prisons. I saw

some boxes made of enormously thick bamboo bars placed at a little

distance apart, in which prisoners were shut up during the night.

“In this court a crowd of wretched creatures with emaciated limbs, livid

faces, and barely covered with a few loathsome rags, lay sweltering in

the sun. Some were fastened by the foot with an iron chain to a weight

so heavy, that they were unable to stir it, and staggered round it like

caged wild beasts, continually turning in a space of a few feet. Others

had their arms and legs shackled together, so that they could only move

about in short jumps, which must have been very painful to judge by the

expression of their faces.

[Illustration: 133.--CHINESE PUNISHMENTS.]

“One of these prisoners had his left hand and right foot fastened in a

board a few inches in width; a policeman dragged him forward by an iron

chain fastened to a heavy collar clasped round his neck, whilst another

flogged him from behind, to make him go on. This wretched creature crept

along with great difficulty on the leg that was still free, his body

bent double in the most painful position (fig. 132).

“In another corner of the court, other prisoners were undergoing the

punishment of the cangue. I also saw a painful sight, a thief buried

alive in a wooden cage.

[Illustration: 134.--A CHINESE COURT OF JUSTICE.]

“Imagine a heavy tub upside down, under which a human being is made to

crouch; his head and his hands are slipped through three round holes,

made so excessively tight that he cannot remove them; the weight of the

cage presses on his shoulders, whatever movement he makes he must carry

it about with him. When he wishes to rest, he can only crouch upon his

knees in a most fatiguing position; when he wishes to take exercise, he

can hardly lift the weight of the tub (fig. 133). One shrinks from

attempting to realize the existence of a man condemned to a month of

such a punishment. The miserable sufferer I saw, being unable to either

eat or drink by himself, his wife had undertaken to help him; she was

standing close to the cage feeding him with rice and some little pieces

of pork, which she pushed into his mouth with chop-sticks. From time to

time, she wiped with an old piece of cloth the livid countenance of her

husband, which was running down with perspiration, whilst her little

child, slung to her back with a strap, smiled in its utter ignorance of

misery, and played with the curls of its mother’s flowing hair. This

sight affected me deeply, and I hurried on to avoid making a protest

against such atrocity.

“The entrance to the hall of justice is embellished with an external

portico, on which some mythological scenes are painted in glowing

colours.

“Presently the folding gates opened with a loud creaking, and admitted

the crowd that had gathered in the first court. At the end of the large

hall on a raised daïs, I perceived Tchong-louen in his ceremonial

costume, surrounded with his councillors and the subaltern officers of

justice. In front of him, on a table covered with a red cloth, were the

records of criminal proceedings, brushes and saucers for the Indian ink,

a bookcase containing the codes and the books of jurisprudence that

might have to be consulted, and a large case full of painted and

numbered pieces of wood. Behind the mandarin stood his fan-bearer, and

two children richly dressed in silk, who held over his head the insignia

of his dignity. On the twelve stone steps that ascended to the dais were

posted, first, the executioner, conspicuous for his wire hat, and his

red dress. He leant his right hand upon an enormous rattan cane, while

his left wielded a curved sword; then came his assistants and the

jailors carrying different instruments of torture which they clashed

noisily together, whilst continuing at measured intervals to utter

horrible yells, intended to throw terror into the minds of the

prisoners. All round the hall stood police soldiers, in the red

tasselled Manchú cap, armed with a short spear, and with two swords

sheathed in the same scabbard. Red draperies inscribed with various

sentences, and lanterns representing different monsters were hung around

the walls. In short, the whole scene was got up to impress the eager and

curious mob, which crowded thickly beneath the overhanging side

galleries, with the imposing spectacle of the symbols of justice, as

represented in fig. 134.

“I witnessed from the place reserved for me behind the judgment seat the

trial of half a score of robbers. I will not attempt to describe the

scenes of torture that followed their repeated denials of guilt. When a

prisoner persisted in asserting his innocence, the judge tossed to the

executioner one of the painted sticks or counters lying in the case on

the table before him, and on which was marked the number of blows or the

description of torture to be inflicted. This was immediately carried

into effect under the eyes of the judge and registrars who made careful

notes of the half avowals uttered by the victim in the midst of his

screams of agony.”

[Illustration: 135.--CHINESE SOLDIERS.]

Military matters are but little attended to in China. This sceptical and

timorous nation is no believer in military glory and power. Our

campaigns in China showed the value of a Chinese army. General Cousin

Montauban, since Count de Palikao, cut numbers of them to pieces, after

one or two skirmishes, in which the Chinese fled as hard as they could

the very moment they perceived a uniform.

[Illustration: 136.--CHINESE TROOPER.]

A nation of four hundred million inhabitants was conquered by six

thousand Frenchmen. The unworthy cowardice of the Chinese explain the

fact that they have always been an easy prey to conquerors.

In Chinese military matters we will restrict ourselves to reproducing

their uniforms. Fig. 135 represents that of their infantry, and fig. 136

that of their mounted troops.

[Illustration: 137.--THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA.]

The real army of the Chinese nation is the care with which it holds

itself aloof from foreigners, and the manner in which it forbids them

access to its territory. Retrenched behind its wall, it is happy in its

own way and does without soldiers. The system seems a good one, since it

has succeeded for so many centuries.

The wall of China, which rigorously excludes all strangers from the

empire, is no mere metaphor. It is a solid reality. Fig. 137 gives a

view of the Great Wall taken near Peking.

The Marquis de Moges, an attaché of the embassy when M. Gros was French

Ambassador in China, has wittily summed up, in his account of his

travels, the contrast between Chinese and Western civilization. “In

China,” he says, “the magnetic needle points to the south;--the cardinal

points are five in number;--the left hand is the place of

honour;--politeness requires you to keep your head covered in the

presence of a superior, or in that of a person whom you wish to

honour;--a book is read from right to left;--fruit is eaten at the

beginning of dinner and soup at its close;--at school, children learn

their lessons aloud and repeat them all together;--their silence is

punished as a sign of idleness;--and finally, a title of nobility

conferred upon a man for some signal service rendered to the state, does

not descend to his posterity, but goes backwards and ennobles his

ancestors.”

THE JAPANESE FAMILY.

Japan, consisting of a large island, that of Nipon, and seven other

smaller islands, of which the principal are Yesso, Sitkokf, and

Kiousiou, is inhabited by an industrious and intelligent people. The

Japanese, whilst resembling the Chinese in many points, differ from them

in many others, and are far superior in a moral point of view to the

inhabitants of the Celestial Empire.

The written character of Japan is the same as that of China, and its

literature is not a distinctive one, but entirely Chinese. The two

creeds of Buddha and of Confucius prevail in Japan as they do in China.

The worship of these creeds is carried on in both countries in similar

pagodas, and their ministers are the same bonzes with shaven heads and

long gray robes. The buildings and the junks of both nations are

identical. Their food is the same, a diet of vegetables, principally

rice, and fish, washed down by plenty of tea and spirit. The coolies

carry their loads in exactly the same manner in Japan and in China, at

Nangasaki and at Peking, and make the streets resound with the same

shrill measured cries. The Japanese women wear their hair as the Chinese

women used to do before they adopted the fashion of pig-tails, and the

townspeople in Yeddo, as in Nankin, seclude themselves in their houses,

which are impervious both to heat and cold.

But the resemblance stops there. The Japanese, a warlike and feudal

nation, would be indignant at being confounded with the servile and

crafty inhabitants of the Celestial Empire, who despise war, and whose

sole aim is commerce. A Chinaman begins to laugh when he is reproached

with running away from the enemy, or when he is convicted of having told

a lie; such matters give him little concern. A Japanese sets a different

value on his life and on his honour; he is warlike and haughty. A

Japanese soldier always confronts his enemy. To deprive him of his sword

is to dishonour him, and he will only consent to take it back stained

with the life-blood of his conqueror. The duello, unknown in China, is

carried out in a terrible fashion among the Japanese. The islander of

Nipon disembowels himself with a thrust of his own sword, and dares his

adversary to follow his example. The Chinese race live in a state of

disgusting and perpetual filth; every Japanese, on the contrary, without

distinction of rank or fortune, takes a warm bath every other day. Of a

jovial and frank disposition, and of great intelligence, they are always

desirous of knowing what is going on in the world, and ever anxious to

learn; whilst the Chinese, on the other hand, shut themselves up behind

their classic wall, and recoil from everything that is strange to them.

These characteristics show that the Japanese are a far superior race to

the Chinese.

A few peculiarities, more especially found in the inhabitants of the sea

coasts, the fishermen and the sailors, separate the Japanese physical

type from that of the Chinese. The former are small, vigorous, active

men with heavy jaws, thick lips, and a small nose, flat at the bridge,

but yet with an aquiline profile. Their hair is somewhat inclined to be

curly.

The Japanese are generally of middle height. They have a large head,

rather high shoulders, a broad chest, a long waist, fleshy hips, slender

short legs, and small hands and feet. The full face of those who have a

very retreating forehead and particularly prominent cheek-bones is

rather square than oval in shape. Their eyes are more projecting than

those of Europeans, and are rather more veiled by the eyelid. The

general effect is not that of the Chinese or Mongolian type. The

Japanese have a larger head than is customary with individuals of these

races, their face is longer, their features are more regular, and their

nose is more prominent and better shaped.

They have all thick, sleek, dark black hair, and a considerable quantity

of it on their faces. The colour of their skin varies according to the

class they belong to, from the sallow sunburnt complexion of the

inhabitants of southern Europe to the deep tawny hue of that of the

native of Java. The most general tint is a sallow brown, but none remind

you of the yellow skin of the Chinese. The women are fairer than the

men. Amongst the upper and even the middle classes, some are to be met

with with a perfectly white complexion.

Two indelible features distinguish the Japanese from the European type.

Their half-veiled eyes, and a disfiguring hollow in the breast, which is

noticeable in them in the flower of their youth, even in the handsomest

figures.

[Illustration: 138.--JAPANESE.]

Both men and women have black eyes, and white sound teeth. Their

countenance is mobile and possesses great variety of expression. It is

the custom for their married women to blacken their teeth. The national

Japanese costume is a kind of open dressing gown (fig. 138), which is

made a little wider and a little more flowing for the women than for the

men. It is fastened round the waist by a belt. That, worn by the men, is

a narrow silk sash, that, by the women, a broad piece of cloth tied in a

peculiar knot at the back.

The Japanese wear no linen, but they bathe, as we have said, every other

day. The women wear an under-garment of red silk crape.

[Illustration: 139.--A JAPANESE FATHER.]

In summer, the peasants, the fishermen, the mechanics and the Indian

coolies follow their calling in a state of almost complete nudity, and

the women only wear a skirt from the waist downwards. When it rains they

cover themselves with capes made of straw, or oiled paper, and with hats

made, shield shape, of cane bark. In winter the men of the lower classes

wear, beneath their _kirimon_ or dressing-gown, a tight fitting vest and

pair of trousers of blue cotton stuff, and the women one or more wadded

cloaks. The middle classes always wear a vest and trousers out of doors.

Figs. 138, 139, 140, and 141 represent different Japanese types.

Their costume generally differs only in the material of which it is

made. The nobility alone have the right to wear silk. They only wear

their costlier dresses on the occasions of their going to court or when

they pay ceremonial visits. All classes wear linen socks and sandals of

plaited straw, or wooden shoes fastened by a string looped round the big

toe. They all, on their return to their own house, or when entering that

of a stranger, take off their shoes, and leave them at the threshold.

[Illustration: 140.--JAPANESE SOLDIER.]

The floors of Japanese dwellings are covered with mattings, which take

the place of every other kind of furniture.

A Japanese has but one wife.

The Japanese have a taste for science and art, and are fond of music and

pageants. Their manufactures are largely developed. They make all sorts

of fine stuffs, work skilfully in iron and copper, make capital

sword-blades, and their wood carvings, their lacquer-work, and their

china, enjoy a wide reputation.

Political power is divided between an hereditary and despotic governor,

the _Taïcoon_, and a spiritual chief, the _Mikado_.

The creed of Buddhism, that of the _Kamis_, and the doctrines of

Confucius equally divide the religious tendencies of the Japanese.

[Illustration: 141.--JAPANESE NOBLE.]

We will give a few details on the interesting inhabitants of Japan, from

the account of a visit to that country written by M. Humbert, the Swiss

plenipotentiary there, which was published in 1870 under the title of

“Japan.”

M. Humbert was present at the ceremonies which took place on the

occasion of an official visit paid by the Taïcoon to the Mikado, and he

gives the following account of it:--

“While I was in Japan, it happened that the Taïcoon paid a visit of

courtesy to the Mikado.

“This was an extraordinary event. It made a great sensation, inspired

the brush of several native artists, and gave resident foreigners a

chance of seeing a little more clearly into the reciprocal relation of

the two powers of the empire. Their respective position is really one of

considerable interest.

“In the first place, the Mikado has over his temporal rival the

advantage of birth and the prestige of his sacred character. Grandson of

the Sun, he continues the traditions of the gods, the demi-gods, the

heroes, and the hereditary sovereigns who have reigned over Japan in an

uninterrupted succession since the creation of the empire of the eight

great islands. Supreme head of their religion, under whatever form it

may present itself to the people, he officiates as the sovereign pontiff

of the ancient national creed of the Kamis. At the summer solstice, he

offers sacrifices to the earth; at the winter solstice, to heaven. A god

is specially deputed to watch over his precious destiny; from the shrine

of the temple he inhabits at the top of Mount Kamo, in the neighbourhood

of the Mikado’s residence, this deity watches night and day over the

Daïri. And finally at the death of a Mikado, his name, which it has been

ordained shall be inscribed in the temples of his ancestors, is engraved

at Kioto, in the temple of Hatchiman; and at Isyé, in the temple of the

Sun.

“It is indubitably from heaven that the Mikado, both theocratic emperor

and hereditary sovereign, derives the authority which he exercises over

his people. Though now-a-days, it must be acknowledged, he scarcely

knows how to employ it. However, from time to time it seems proper to

him to confer pompous titles, which are entirely honorary, on a few old

feudal nobles who have deserved well of the altar. Sometimes also he

allows himself the luxury of openly protesting against those acts of the

temporal power, which seem to infringe on his prerogatives. This is the

course he took with special reference to the treaties made by the

Taïcoon with several western nations; it is true that he finally

sanctioned them, but that was because he could not help himself.

“Now the Taïcoon, as everybody knows, is the fortunate successor of a

common usurper. In fact, the founders of his dynasty, subjects of the

then Mikado, robbed their lord and master of his army, his navy, his

lands, and his treasure, as if they were desirous of depriving him of

any subject of earthly anxiety.

“Possibly the Mikado was too ready to fall in with their plans. The

offer of a two-wheeled chariot drawn by an ox, for his daily drive in

the parks of his residence, doubtless a considerable privilege in a

country where nobody uses a conveyance, should not have persuaded him to

sacrifice the manly exercises of archery, hawking, and hunting the stag

or wild boar. He might likewise, without making himself absolutely

invisible, have spared himself the fatigue of the ceremonious receptions

where, motionless on a raised platform, he accepts the silent adoration

of his courtiers prostrated at his feet. The Mikado, now, they say, only

communicates with the exterior world through the medium of the female

attendants intrusted with the care of his person. It is they who dress

and feed him, clothing him daily in a fresh costume, and serving his

meals on table utensils fresh every morning from the manufactory which

for centuries has monopolized their supply. His sacred feet never touch

the ground; his countenance is never exposed in broad daylight to the

common gaze; in a word, the Mikado must be kept pure from all contact

with the elements, the sun, the moon, the earth, mankind, and himself.

“It was necessary that the interview should take place at Kioto, the

holy town which the Mikado is never allowed to leave. His palace, and

the ancient temples of his family are his sole personal possessions

there, the town itself being under the rule of the temporal emperor; but

the latter dedicates its revenues to the expenses of the spiritual

sovereign, and condescends to keep up a permanent garrison within its

walls for the protection of the pontifical throne.

“The preliminaries on both sides having been carried out, a proclamation

announced the day when the Taïcoon intended to issue forth from his

capital, the immense and populous modern town of Yeddo, the

head-quarters of the political and civil government of the empire, the

seat of the Naval and Military Schools, of the Interpreters’ College,

and of the Academy of Medicine and Philosophy.

“He was preceded by a division of his army equipped in the European

manner, and, while these picked troops, infantry, cavalry, and

artillery, were marching on Kioto by land along the great Imperial

highway of the Tokaïdo, the fleet received orders to set sail for the

inland sea. The temporal sovereign himself, embarked in the splendid

steamer, the _Lycemoon_, which he had purchased of the firm of Dent and

Co. for five hundred thousand dollars. Six other steamers escorted him;

the _Kandimarrah_, notorious for its voyage from Yeddo to San-Francisco

to convey the Japanese embassy sent to the United States; the sloop of

war, the _Soembing_, a gift from the King of the Netherlands; the yacht

_Emperor_, a present from Queen Victoria; and some frigates built in

America and in Holland to orders given by the embassies of 1859 and

1862. Manned entirely by Japanese crews, this squadron left the bay of

Yeddo, doubled Cape Sagami and the promontory of Idsou, crossed the

Linschoten straits, and coasting along the eastern shores of the island

of Awadsi, dropped its anchors in the Hiogo roadstead, where the Taïcoon

disembarked amid larboard and starboard salutes.

“His state entry into Kioto took place a few days later, with no

military parade but that of his own troops, as the Mikado possesses

neither soldiers nor artillery, with the exception of a body-guard of

archers, recruited from the families of his kinsmen or of the feudal

nobility. Indeed, he can hardly afford even on this moderate scale, the

expenses of his court; and his own revenue being insufficient, he is

obliged to accept with one hand an income the Taïcoon consents to pay

him out of his own private purse, and with the other, the amounts that

the brethren of a few monastic orders yearly collect for him, from

village to village, in even the furthest provinces of the empire.

Another circumstance that assists him to support his rank, is the

disinterested abnegation of many of his high officials. Some of them

serve him with no other remuneration but the free use of the costly

regulation dresses of the old imperial wardrobe. On their return home,

after doffing their court costume, these haughty gentlemen are not

ashamed to seat themselves at a weavers’ loom or an embroidery frame.

More than one piece of the rich silk productions of Kioto, the handiwork

of which is so much admired, has issued from some of the princely

houses, whose names are inscribed in the register of the Kamis.

[Illustration: 142.--JAPANESE PALANQUIN.]

“These drawbacks did not prevent the Mikado from inaugurating the day

of the interview, by exhibiting to his royal visitor the spectacle of

the grand procession of the Daïri. Accompanied by his archers, by his

household, by his courtiers, and by the whole of his pontifical staff,

he left his palace by the southern gateway, which, towards the close of

the ninth century, was decorated by the historical compositions of the

celebrated painter-poet, Kosé Kanaoka. He descended along the boulevards

to the suburb washed by the Yodogawa, and returned to the castle through

the principal streets of the town.

“The ancient insignia of his supreme power were carried in state at the

head of the procession; the mirror of his ancestress Izanami, the

beautiful goddess who gave birth to the sun in the island of Awadsi; the

glorious standard, the long paper streamers of which had waved above the

heads of the soldiery of Zinmou the conqueror; the flaming sword of the

hero of Yamato, who overcame the eight-headed hydra to which virgins of

princely blood used to be sacrificed; the seal that stamped the first

laws of the empire; and the cedar wood fan, shaped like a lath and used

as a sceptre, which for more than two thousand years has descended from

the hands of the dead Mikado to those of his successor.

“I will not stop to describe another part of the pageant, intended

doubtless to complete and enhance the effect of the rest, namely the

banners embroidered with the armorial bearings of all the ancient noble

families of the empire. Perhaps they were intended to remind the

Taïcoon, that, in the eyes of the old territorial nobility, he was

nothing but a _parvenu_; if so, the _parvenu_ could smile complacently

at the thought, that the whole of the Japanese grandees, the great as

well as the lesser daïmios, are, nevertheless, obliged to pass six

months of the year, at his Court in Yeddo, and offer him their homage in

the midst of the nobles of his own creation.

“The most numerous and the most picturesque ranks of the procession were

those of the representatives of all the sects who recognise the

spiritual supremacy of the Mikado. The dignitaries of the ancient creed

of the Kamis are scarcely distinguishable, as to dress, from the high

officials of the palace. I have already described their costume, it

reminds the spectators that the Japanese possessed originally a religion

without a priesthood. Buddhism, on the contrary, which came from China,

and rapidly spread throughout the empire, has an immense variety of

sects, rites, orders, and brotherhoods. The bonzes and the monks

belonging to this faith composed in the procession endless ranks of

devout-looking individuals, with the tonsure or with entirely shaven

heads, some of them uncovered, and some wearing curiously shaped caps,

mitres, and hats with wide brims. Some of them carried a crozier in

their right hand, others a rosary, others again, a fly-brush, a

sea-shell, or a holy water sprinkler made of paper. They were dressed in

cassocks, surplices, and cloaks of every shape and hue.

“Behind them came the household of the Mikado. The pontifical body-guard

in their full dress, aim beyond everything at elegance. Leaving

breast-plates and coats of mail to the men-at-arms of the Taïcoon, they

wear a little lacquer-work cap, ornamented on both sides with rosettes,

and a rich silk tunic trimmed with lace edgings. The width of their

trousers conceals their feet. They are equipped with a large curved

sabre, a bow, and a quiver full of arrows.

“Some of the mounted ones had a long riding-whip fastened to their wrist

by a coarse silken cord.

“A great deal of brutality is too often hidden beneath this imposing

exterior. The wildness and the dissipation of the young nobles of the

Japanese pontifical court have supplied history with pages recalling the

worst period of papal Rome, the days of Cæsar Borgia. Conrad Kramer, the

envoy of the Dutch West Indian islands to the court of Kioto, was

allowed to be present in 1626 at a festival held in honour of a visit of

the temporal emperor to his spiritual sovereign. He relates that the

following day, corpses of women, young girls, and children, who had

fallen victims to nocturnal outrages, were found in the streets of the

capital. A still larger number of married women and maidens, whom

curiosity had attracted to Kioto, were lost by their husbands and

parents in the turmoil of the crowded streets, and were only found a

week or a fortnight later, their families being utterly unable to bring

their abducers to justice.

“Polygamy being a legal institution for the Mikado only, it was perhaps

natural for him to make some display of his prerogative. It costs him

sufficiently dear. It is the abyss hidden with flowers that the first

usurpers of the imperial power dug for the feet of the successors of

Zinmou. It is easy to imagine the cynical smile on the lips of the

Taïcoon as he saw the long row of the equipages of the Daïri making its

appearance.

“A pair of black buffaloes, driven by pages in white smocks, were

harnessed to each of these cumbrous vehicles which were made of precious

woods and glistened with coats of varnish of different tints. They

contained the empress and the twelve other legitimate wives of the

Mikado seated behind doors of open latticework. His favourite

concubines, and the fifty ladies of honour of the empress followed close

behind, in covered palanquins.

“When the Mikado himself leaves his residence, it is always in his

pontifical litter. This litter, fastened on long shafts, and borne by

fifty porters in white liveries, can be seen from a long distance off

towering above the crowd. It is constructed in the shape of a _mikosis_,

the kind of shrine in which the holy relics of the Kamis are exposed. It

may be compared to a garden summer-house, with a cupola roof with bells

hanging all round its base. On the top of the cupola there is a ball,

and on top of the ball there is a kind of cock couchant on its spurs,

with its wings extended and its tail spread: this is meant as a

representation of the mythological bird known in China and Japan under

the name of Foô.

“This portable summer-house, glistening all over with gold, is so very

hermetically closed that it is difficult to believe that any body could

be put inside it. A proof, however, that it is really used for the high

purpose attributed to it, is that on each side of it are seen walking

the women who are the domestic attendants of the Mikado. They alone have

the privilege of surrounding his person. To the rest of his court as

well as to his people, the Mikado remains an invisible, dumb, and

inapproachable divinity. He kept up this character even in the interview

with the Taïcoon.

“Amongst the group of buildings that constitute the right of Kioto to be

styled the pontifical residence, there is one that might be called the

Temple of Audience, for it is constructed in the sacred style of

architecture peculiar to the religious edifices of the faith of the

Kamis, and it bears like them the name of Mia. Adjoining the apartments

inhabited by the Mikado, it stands at the bottom of a large court paved

and planted with trees, in which are marshalled the escorts of honour on

high and solemn festivals.

“A detachment of officers of the artillery and of the body-guards of the

Taïcoon (fig. 143), and several groups of dignitaries of the Mikado’s

suite drew up successively in this open space.

“The women had retired to their own apartments.

[Illustration: 143.--THE TAÏCOON’S GUARDS.]

“Deputations of bonzes and different monastic orders occupied the

corridors along the surrounding walls. Soldiers of the Taïcoonal

garrison of Kioto, posted at intervals, kept the line of the avenue

which led to the broad steps reaching up to the front of the building.

Up this avenue the courtiers of the Mikado, clad in mantles with long

trains, passed with measured tread, majestically ascended the steps, and

placed themselves right and left on the verandah with their faces turned

towards the still closed doors of the great throne room. Before taking

up their position they took care to lift the trains of their mantles and

throw them over the balustrade of the verandah, so as to display to the

crowd the coats of arms which were embroidered on these portions of

their garments. The whole verandah was soon curtained with this

brilliant kind of tapestry.

“Presently the sound of flutes, of sea-shells and of the gongs of the

pontifical chapel, proceeding from the left wing of the building,

announced that the Mikado was entering the sanctuary. A deep silence

fell upon the crowd. An hour passed away in solemn expectation, whilst

the preliminaries of the reception were being performed. Suddenly a

flourish of trumpets announced the arrival of the Taïcoon. He advanced

up the avenue on foot and without any escort; his prime minister, the

commanders in chief of the army and navy, and a few members of the

council of the Court of Yeddo, walked at a respectful distance behind

him. He stopped for a moment at the foot of the great staircase, and

immediately the doors of the temple slowly opened, gliding from right to

left in their grooves. He then ascended the steps, and the spectacle

which had held in suspense the expectation of the multitude at last

unveiled itself to their eyes.

“A large green awning of cane-bark fastened to the ceiling of the hall,

hung within two or three feet of the floor. Through this narrow space,

could be perceived a couch of mats and carpets, on which the broad folds

of an ample white robe spread themselves out. This was all that could be

seen of the spectacle of the Mikado on his throne.

“The chinks in the plaits of the cane awning allowed him to see

everything without being seen. Wherever he directed his gaze, he

perceived nothing but heads bent before his invisible majesty. One

alone remained erect on the summit of the stairs of the temple, but it

was one crowned with the lofty golden coronet, the royal symbol of the

temporal head of the empire. And even he too, the powerful sovereign

whose might is boundless, when he had reached the last step, bent his

head, and sinking slowly, fell on his knees, stretched his arms forward

towards the threshold of the throne-room, and bowed his forehead to the

very ground.

“From that moment, the ceremony of the interview was accomplished, the

aim of the solemnity was gained. The Taïcoon had openly prostrated

himself at the feet of the Mikado.

[Illustration: 144.--A LADY OF THE COURT.]

“The interview at Kioto, had for its result two facts. By the first, the

bending of the knee, the temporal sovereign showed that he continued to

be the traditional obedient son of the high pontiff of the national

religion; but, by the second, that is to say by accepting this act of

homage, the theocratic emperor formally recognised the representative of

a dynasty sprung from a source alien to the only legitimate one.”

As the art of war is of some importance in Japan, we quote a few details

from M. Humbert, on the equipments and the uniforms of the Taïcoon’s

soldiers.

“The common soldiers are,” M. Humbert tells us, “inhabitants of the

mountains of Akoui. They return to their homes after a short service of

two or three years. Their uniform is made of blue cotton stuff, striped

with white across the shoulders, and consists of a tight-fitting pair of

trousers, and a shirt like that worn by the followers of Garibaldi. They

wear cotton socks, leather sandals, and a waist-belt supporting a large

sword in a japanned scabbard. Their cartridge-pouch and their bayonet

are slung to their right side by a baldric. Their get-up is completed by

a pointed hat, sloping at the sides, and made of lacquered cardboard;

but they only wear it when on guard or at drill.

“As for the muskets of the Japanese troops, they have all, it is true,

percussion-locks, but they vary both in calibre and in make, according

to where they happen to come from. I saw four different kinds in the

racks of some barracks at Benten, which a Yakounine did me the favour to

show me. He showed me first a Dutch sample musket, and then one of an

inferior quality manufactured in some workshops that had been started in

Yeddo to turn out arms copied from this sample; he then pointed out an

American gun; and finally, a Minié rifle, the use of which a young

officer was teaching a squad of soldiers in the barrack-yard.”

The dress of the Japanese soldiery is curious in this respect, that it

reproduces and preserves the whole military paraphernalia of European

feudal times. A helmet, a coat-of-mail, a halberd, and a two-handed

sword, such are the equipment of the better class of soldiery.

Fencing is held in high esteem in the Japanese army. The men are very

clever at this exercise, which keeps up their vigour and their skill.

Even the women practise it. Their weapon is a lance with a bent piece of

iron at the end of it. The ladies learn how to use it in a series of

regular positions and attitudes. The Japanese Amazons can also skilfully

make use of a kind of knife, fastened to the wrist with a long silken

string. When they have hurled this weapon at the head of their enemy,

they draw it back again by means of the cord. The men also hurl the

knife, but without fastening it to their wrist, and in the same way as

they practise throwing the knife in Spain.

The Japanese nobles carry very costly weapons. The temper of their

sword-blades is matchless, and their sword-hilts and scabbards are

enriched with finely chased and engraved metal ornaments. But the chief

value of their swords lies in their great age and reputation. In old

families, every sword has a history and tradition of its own, whose

brilliancy corresponds with the blood it has shed. A maiden sword must

not remain so in the hand of its purchaser. Till an opportunity turns up

of dyeing it with human blood, its possessor tries its prowess on living

animals, or better still, on the corpses of executed criminals. The

executioner, having obtained permission, hands him over two or three

dead bodies. Our Japanese then proceeds to fasten them to crosses, or on

trestles, in a courtyard of his house, and practises cutting, slashing,

and thrusting, till he has acquired enough strength and skill to cut a

couple of bodies in two at one stroke.

The sword, in Japan, is the classical, the national weapon.

Nevertheless, in process of time, it will have to give way to the new

improved firearms. In spite of the traditional prestige with which the

Japanese nobility still endeavour to surround the former old-fashioned

weapon; in spite of the contempt they affect for military innovations;

the rifle, the democratic arm of arms, is becoming more and more used in

Japan. This weapon will inaugurate a social revolution that will put an

end to the feudal system. The rifle will cause an Eastern ’89 in Japan.

We have said that two creeds are followed in Japan, the Buddhist faith

and the religion of the Kamis. The latter, with its ancient rites, has

been replaced, however, nearly throughout the empire by the former.

We quote some of M. Humbert’s remarks on Buddhism.

“Our imagination can hardly conceive,” says this traveller, “that

nearly a third of the human race has no religious belief but that of

Buddhism, a creed without a God, a faith of negation, an invention of

despair.

“One would wish to persuade oneself that the multitudes who follow its

doctrines, do not understand the faith they profess, or at least refuse

to admit its natural consequences. The idolatrous practices engrafted on

the book of its law seem in fact to bear witness that Buddhism has

neither been able to satisfy or destroy the religious instinct innate in

man, and germinating in the bosoms of all nations.

“On the other hand, it is impossible not to recognize the influence of

the philosophy of final annihilation in many of the habits and customs

of Japanese life. The Irowa teaches the school children that life

disappears like a dream, and leaves no trace behind. A Japanese, arrived

at man’s estate, sacrifices with the most disdainful indifference his

own life or that of his neighbour, to appease his pride, or for some

trifling cause of anger. Murders and suicides are of such every-day

occurrence in Japan, that there are few families of gentle birth who do

not make it a point of honour to boast at least one sword that has been

dyed in blood.

“Buddhism is, however, superior in some respects to the creeds it has

dethroned. It owes this relative superiority to the justice of its

fundamental axiom, which is an avowal of a need for a redeeming

principle, grounded on the double fact of the existence of evil in the

nature of man, and of an universal state of misery and suffering in the

world.

“The promises of the religion of the Kamis had all reference to this

life. A strict observance of the rules of purification would preserve

the faithful from the five great ills, which are the fire of heaven,

sickness, poverty, exile, and early death. The aim of their religious

festivals was the glorification of the heroes of the empire. But were

patriotism idealized and exalted into a national creed, it would still

be true that this natural feeling, so precious and so appropriate, could

never suffice to satisfy the soul and answer its every craving. The

human soul is more boundless than the world. It needs a belief to raise

it beyond the earth. Buddhism to a certain extent met these aspirations

which had been hitherto neglected. This circumstance alone will explain

the success with which it is propagated, in Japan and elsewhere, by the

mere force of persuasion. At all events we may well believe that it is

not its abstract and philosophical form that has made it so popular, and

nothing is a better proof of this than its present state.

“The bonzes Sinran, Nitziten, and twenty or thirty others, have made

themselves a reputation as founders of sects, each of which is

distinguished by some peculiarity worthy of rivalling the ingenious

invention of Foudaïsi.

[Illustration: 145.--A KAMIS TEMPLE, JAPAN.]

“Thus one particular brotherhood has a monopoly of the patronage of the

great family rosary. It must be explained that a Buddhist rosary can

only exercise its power if its beads are properly enumerated. Now in a

numerous family there is no guarantee against errors being committed in

the use of the rosary; whence the inefficiency it is sometimes accused

of. Instead of indulging in recrimination, however, the plan pursued is

to send for a bonze of the Order of the Great Rosary to set matters

right again.

“This good man hastens up with his instrument, which is about as big as

a good-sized boa-constrictor, and places it in the hands of the family

kneeling in a circle, whilst he himself, standing in front of the shrine

of the domestic idol, directs operations with a bell and a small hammer.

At a given signal, father, mother, and children, intone with the whole

force of their lungs the prayers agreed upon. The small and the large

beads of the rosary and the strokes of the hammer fall with a cadenced

rhythm that inspires them. The rosary ring grows excited, their cries

become passionate, their arms and hands work like machinery, the

perspiration streams down them, and their bodies get stiff with fatigue.

At last the close of the ceremony leaves everybody breathless,

exhausted, but radiant with happiness, for the interceding gods must be

satisfied!

“Buddhism is a flexible conciliating, insinuating religion, which

accommodates itself to the bent and the habits of the most different

races. From the very first, the bonzes in Japan managed to get

themselves entrusted with some of the shrines and small chapels of the

Kamis, in order to protect them in the enclosures of their sanctuaries.

They hastened to add to their ceremonies symbols borrowed from the

ancient national faith; and in short, for the purpose of better fusing

the two creeds, they introduced into their temples, Kamis deities

invested with the titles and attributes of Hindoo divinities, and at the

same time, Hindoo gods transformed into Japanese Kamis. There was

nothing inadmissible in these exchanges, which were explained in the

most natural manner by the dogma of transmigration. Thanks to this

combination of the two creeds, which received the name of

Rioobou-Sintoo, Buddhism has become the prevalent religion of Japan.

“. . . . Within their temples the bonzes officiate at the altar, in the

sight of the people, beyond the sanctuary which a veil separates from

the crowd. The latter are only directly addressed by them in preaching,

and only on the special festivals consecrated to this practice.

“They are only allowed to go in procession at certain periods of the

year, and then only in the presence of the government officials who

superintend public pageants.

[Illustration: 146.--JAPANESE PAGODA.]

“The pastoral portions of their duty have been cut down to such narrow

limits, that I can only find one word to apply to the duties that

remain. They are simply the duties of a mute. In fact, the bonzes

perform the sacramental ceremonies that the Japanese of all sects are

accustomed to see accompany the last moments of the dying. They arrange

the funeral procession, and provide, according to the wishes of the

relatives of the deceased, for the burial or for the burning of his

remains, and for the consecration and protection of his tomb.”

THE INDO-CHINESE FAMILY.

The people of Indo-China, whom we consider to belong to the Yellow Race,

have a darker complexion than the Chinese and the Japanese. Their

stature is smaller, and their civilization is less developed. They are

generally of an indolent disposition.

To this group belong the Burmans, the Annamites and the Siamese.

* * * * *

The _Burmans_ and the _Annamites_.--The Burmese are a nation which has

made a good deal of progress in civilization. In this respect the

Annamites are not behind them. The physical, moral, and political

characteristics of these two nations have no particular point of

interest to engage our attention. We content ourselves with showing the

reader (figs. 147 and 148) the types and the costumes of the inhabitants

of the Burmese Empire.

* * * * *

The _Siamese_.--The population of the kingdom of Siam, which amounts to

nearly five millions, scarcely includes two millions of Siamese.

The Siamese, according to the travelling notes of M. Henry Mouhot, a

French naturalist, are easily recognized by their effeminate and idle

appearance, and by their servile physiognomy. Nearly all have rather a

flat nose, prominent cheek-bones, a dull unintelligent eye, broad

nostrils, a wide mouth, lips reddened by their habit of chewing betel,

and teeth as black as ebony. They all keep their heads entirely shaved,

except just on the top, where they allow a tuft to grow. Their hair is

black and coarse. The women wear the same tuft, but their hair is finer

and carefully kept. The dress of both men and women is by no means an

elaborate one.

Figs. 149, 150, and 151 give an exact idea of the type and mode of dress

of the Siamese. A piece of cloth, which they raise behind, and the two

ends of which they fasten to their belt, is their only garment. The

women wear besides a scarf across their shoulders. Apart from the

delicacy of her features, a Siamese girl of from twelve to twenty need

but little envy the conventional models of our statuary.

[Illustration: 147.--BURMESE NOBLE.]

The Siamese are passionately fond of trinkets. Provided they glitter,

it matters little whether they are real or false. They cover their women

and their children with rings, bracelets, armlets, and bits of gold and

silver. They wear them on their arms, on their legs, round their necks,

in their ears, on their bodies, on their shoulders, everywhere they can

place them. The king’s son is so covered with them, that the weight of

his clothes and jewellery is heavier than that of his body.

The greatest conjugal harmony seems to prevail in Siamese families. The

wife is not kept secluded as in China, but shows herself everywhere. As

a shadow to this picture, we must add that parents have a right to sell

their children as slaves.

[Illustration: 148.--BURMESE LADY.]

The Siamese have retained intact all the superstitions of the Hindoos

and the Chinese. They believe in demons, in ogres, in mermaids, &c. They

have faith in amulets, philtres, and in soothsayers. They support a

king, a court, and a seraglio, with its numerous progeny. A second king

possesses also his palace, his army, and his mandarins. Between these

two kings and the people intervene twelve different ranks of princes,

several classes of ministers, five or six of mandarins, and an endless

series of governors and lieutenant-governors, all equally incapable and

rapacious.

[Illustration: 149.--WOMEN OF BANKOK.]

Like all degraded and servile nations, the inhabitants of Siam devote a

great part of their existence to games and amusements.

[Illustration: 150.--SIAMESE DOMESTIC.]

[Illustration: 151.--SIAMESE LADIES DINING.]

M. Mouhot visited Udeng, the present capital of Cambodia. The houses of

this town are made of bamboo, sometimes of planks. The longest street is

nearly three-quarters of a mile long. The tillers of the soil and the

hard-working classes, as well as the mandarins and the other employés

of the government, dwell in the suburbs of the town. M. Mouhot met at

every moment mandarins in litters or in hammocks followed by a swarm of

slaves each carrying something; some, a red or yellow umbrella, the size

of which is an indication of the rank and quality of its owner; others,

boxes of betel. Horsemen, mounted on small active horses caparisoned in

a costly manner and covered with little bells, and followed by a pack of

slaves begrimed with dust and sweat, often took their turn in the

panorama. He also noticed some light carts drawn by a couple of small

but swift oxen. Elephants too, moving majestically forwards with

outstretched ears and trunk, and stopped occasionally by the numerous

processions which were wending their way to the pagodas to the sound of

boisterous music.

[Illustration: 152.--TOMB OF A BONZE, AT LAOS.]

The town of Bankok, the capital, was formerly called Siam, whence the

name of the country.

[Illustration: 153.--CAMBODIANS.]

An absolute sovereign, looked upon as the incarnation of Buddha, rules

over the kingdom of Siam, which is divided into four provinces; Siam,

Siamese Laos, Siamese Cambodia, and Siamese Malacca. At one time a

tributary of the Burmese Empire, the kingdom of Siam recovered its

independence in 1759, and in 1768 even increased its territory by

conquest.

There are scarcely any manufactures in Siam, but commerce still

flourishes there, although less vigorously than formerly. The Siamese

exchange their agricultural produce, their wood, their skins, cotton,

rice, and preserved fish, with the Chinese, the Annamites, the Burmese,

and especially with the English and Dutch possessions. Elephant’s tusks

are also an important article of barter, and elephant-hunting is the

calling of many of the natives.

The country is rather fertile. It is an immense plain, hilly towards the

north, and intersected by a river, the Meinam, on the banks of which are

placed its principal towns. Bankok is situated on this river, not far

from its mouth in the gulf of Siam, and is consequently the principal

port of the whole kingdom, the head-quarters of its entire trade. The

periodical overflowings of the Meinam fertilize the whole of its basin.

Art and science are not entirely neglected in the kingdom of Siam. It is

one of the few Asiatic countries which possess a literature of its own

and some artistic productions.

Although the Buddhist religion prevails in Siam and is the state

religion, yet different sects are tolerated there, and Christianity can

reckon two thousand five hundred disciples.

Fig. 154 represents the young prince-royal.

The Stieng savages are subjects of the king of Siam. Their stature is a

little above the average. They are powerful, their features are regular,

and their well-developed foreheads show intelligence. Their only

clothing is a long scarf. They are so much attached to their mountains

and forests, that when away from their own country they are frequently

seized with a dangerous kind of home-sickness.

[Illustration: 154.--THE PRINCE-ROYAL OF SIAM.]

These Siamese aliens of civilization work in iron and ivory; and make

hatchets and swords which are sought after by collectors. Their women

weave and dye the scarves they wear. They cultivate rice, maize,

tobacco, vegetables, and fruit-trees. They possess neither priests nor

temples, but they acknowledge the existence of a Supreme Being. The time

they can spare from their fields they devote to hunting and fishing.

Indefatigable in the chase, they penetrate with extraordinary rapidity

the densest jungles. The women appear to be as active and as untiring as

the men. They use powerful cross-bows with poisoned arrows to shoot the

elephant, the rhinoceros, and the tiger. They are fond of adorning

themselves with imitation pearls of a bright colour, which they make

into bracelets. Both sexes pierce their ears, and widen the hole every

year by inserting in it pieces of bone and ivory.

[Illustration: 155.--CHINESE GIRL.]

THE BROWN RACE.

With M. d’Omalius d’Halloy we class in the Brown Race a great variety of

peoples who have nothing in common but a complexion darker than that of

the White and Yellow races, and whom we are led to believe the product

of the mixture of these two with the Black Race. This theory accounts

for one portion of the Brown Race possessing White characteristics,

while the other has a greater resemblance to the Yellow Race.

The Brown Race forms three branches or geographical groups, viz.--

1. The Hindoo branch.

2. The Ethiopian branch.

3. The Malay branch.

We will proceed to describe the principal peoples belonging to these

three branches.

CHAPTER I.

HINDOO BRANCH.

The peoples composing the Hindoo branch have been frequently classed in

the White Race. In fact, their shape, their language, and their

institutions partly correspond to those of Europeans and Persians, but

their darker and sometimes black skins distinguish them from either.

The civilization of the Hindoos was, in the earliest historic times,

already far advanced; but for many centuries it has remained stationary,

or has gone backwards.

Most Hindoos practise the creed of Brahma, a religion sprung up in their

own land. A few have embraced Mahometanism, others have become

Buddhists.

The most striking feature of Hindoo society is its division into castes.

These castes, originating ages and ages ago, have always been the

principal obstacles to the development of civilization. How can

progress, talent, or remarkable works be expected from men whom society

forbids ever to emerge from the conditions of their birth?

These castes are four in number. The _Brahmin_ caste, whose members are

devoted to the practice of religious rites, to the study of the law, and

to teaching. The _Rajpoots_ or _Cshatriyas_, who are professional

soldiers. The _Banians_, who are agriculturists, cattle breeders, and

traders. Lastly, the _Sudras_, who follow various callings, and who are

subdivided into many sub-castes corresponding to as many different

handicrafts.

Each caste has its peculiar religious observances. Its members cannot

intermarry with those of other castes, and must always follow the

profession in which destiny has placed their parents.

The descendants of those, who, by improper marriages or otherwise, have

forfeited their caste, form an inferior caste, known under the name of

_Varna-Sancára_. Finally below even this last division come the

_Pariahs_, beings cursed by destiny, who exist in the most deplorable

state of moral abjection.

[Illustration: 156.--NATIVES OF HYDERABAD.]

The Hindoos are well made, but their limbs are far from robust. They

have small hands and feet, a high forehead, black eyes, well arched

eyebrows, fine bright black hair, and a more or less brown skin, which,

in the south of India, and particularly among the lowest classes, is

sometimes black. Ethnologically speaking, there are two families in the

Hindoo branch:--the _Hindoo_ family, and the _Malabar_ family.

[Illustration: 157.--A BANIAN OF SURAT.]

HINDOO FAMILY.

The _Hindoo_ family constitutes the greater part of the population of

northern Hindostan. The dialects spoken in this country have generally

some relation to Sanskrit. The colour of the skin, in the higher

classes, is fair enough, but becomes darker among the lower castes.

[Illustration: 158.--AN AGED SIKH.]

Among the people belonging to the Hindoo family we may name the Sikhs, a

warlike people, remarkable for the beauty of their oval countenances;

the Jats, the Rajpoots, and the Mahrattas; the Bengalese, a peaceful

people, devoted to trade, and the Cingalese, or inhabitants of the

island of Ceylon.

An accomplished traveller, M. Alfred Grandidier, has published in the

“Tour du Monde,” in 1869, the account of a “Voyage dans l’Inde.” We

learn from him a few general facts that perfectly sum up the social

condition of the India of to-day, especially that of the central portion

of the peninsula, for it would perhaps be difficult to generalize on the

manners and customs of the whole of India, of which the population

amounts to more than a hundred and eighty millions, and the superficies

to that of the whole of continental Europe with the exception of Russia.

India is, in fact, divided into three distinct basins; that of the

Indus, that of the Ganges, and the plain of the Deccan, constituting

Central India. This last is classic India, that is to say, the only part

of the country thoroughly known to Europeans. M. Grandidier’s travels

were in the Deccan, to which refer the remarks we are about to quote:--

“The Hindoos of the Deccan,” says M. Grandidier, “resemble the Aryan

(Caucasian) race in the oval shape of their head, in the formation of

their cranium, and in their facial angle. They are distinct from it,

however, in colour. Their bodies are frail; the low caste native is thin

and slight, but makes up for his lack of strength by his activity and

lightness. His skin varies from a light copper colour to a dark brown;

his hair is a fine glossy black, and grows plentifully on his face.

“Gentle and timid, the Hindoo is wanting in perseverance and firmness;

gifted with a rapid comprehension, he is yet incapable of any sustained

effort. A double yoke, from time immemorial, has weighed him down; caste

distinctions and a foreign sway have made him a flexible creature,

possessing more prudence and cunning than energy and uprightness; more

keenness of wit than nobility of soul.

[Illustration: 159.--A PARSEE GENTLEMAN.]

“A lively imagination, never subdued by a rational education, has

brought him under the influence of the gross superstitions sanctioned by

the Hindoo religion, with its train of ignoble divinities. The timidity

of his character has preserved him from the violent fanaticism of the

Mussulman, but his religion is very dear to him, and the belief of the

lower classes is at least a sincere one.

“Sivaism, to which belong most of the inhabitants of the Deccan, is so

priceless in their eyes, that they value it far beyond their lives. They

repose an ardent and lively faith in the most absurd doctrines. This

form of religion pleases their imagination by its fantastic dreams and

by its poetic materialism, and its ceremonies amuse them, while

gratifying their passions.

“The paucity of their wants tends to render them improvident, and their

lively and childish imagination, feeding on the smallest and vaguest

facts, which they poetise and exaggerate in their own manner, develops

in them a dreamy and indolent mode of life.

“Their doctrine of metempsychosis still further increases the natural

tendency of their mind, and helps to cause their almost incredible

mental inaction, which nothing can surprise or stimulate. The only lever

that can move the masses must be one attacking their religious faith.

“The dress of the Hindoos is the _dhoti_, a long scarf of cloth rolled

round the figure, passing under the legs and fastened behind the back.

This garment leaves the legs and the upper part of the body uncovered.

The upper classes wear a short shirt (_angaskah_) and a long white robe

(_jamah_). Their head is always covered with a turban, of different size

and colour, according to their caste. Few Hindoos wear shoes, sandals

being in almost universal use. The women wear the _choli_, a little

jacket with short sleeves, just covering the bosom, which it supports,

and the _sari_, a large piece of cloth which they fold around them, and

throw coquettishly over the shoulder or the head. This graceful drapery

recalls the chlamyde worn by the Diana of Gabies.

“This dress of the Hindoos is, as a rule, tasteful, and suited to the

climate and to their mode of life. Although each caste, each sect, has

its own particular method of wearing it, it is still, all over India,

the most uniform and the most characteristic feature of the population.

“Both sexes are passionately fond of jewellery; women of the very

poorest class often wear gold rings set with pearls in their noses.

Their arms are covered with silver, copper, and glass bracelets. The

large toes of their feet are adorned with rings, and their legs with

heavy metal bangles. As for their ears, they literally droop beneath the

weight of the golden earrings with which they are laden; and their lobes

are pierced with large holes, often nearly an inch in diameter, into

which are introduced gold ornaments in the shape of small wheels,

replaced on working days by pieces of rolled leaves. This custom has

actually reached Polynesia.

[Illustration: 160.--SIR SALAR JUNG, K.S.I.]

“Hindoos turn all their little capital into jewellery. This habit

springs from a medley of vanity and superstition, the latter leading

them to consider trinkets as talismans against spells and witchcraft.

“It was also, under the ancient Mogul dynasty, a means of preserving

their property from the rapacity of Mussulman tyrants, whose religion

forbade them to appropriate women’s chattels.