CHAPTER XIII.

ARCHITECTURE, DRESS, AND DIET OF THE CHINESE.

It is a sensible remark of De Guignes,[347] that “the habit we fall into of conceiving things according to the words which express them, often leads us into error when reading the relations of travellers. Such writers have seen objects altogether new, but they are compelled, when describing them, to employ equivalent terms in their own language in order to be understood; while these same terms tend to deceive the reader, who imagines that he sees such palaces, colonnades, peristyles, etc., under these designations as he has been used to, when, in fact, they are quite another thing.” The same observation is true of other things than architecture, and of other nations than the Chinese, and this confusion of terms and meanings proves a fruitful source of error in regard to an accurate knowledge of foreign nations, and a just perception of their condition. For instance, the terms _a court of justice_, _a common school_, _politeness_, _learning_, _navy_, _houses_, etc., as well as the names of things, like _razor_, _shoe_, _cap_, _bed_, _pencil_, _paper_, etc., are inapplicable to the same things in England and China; while it is plainly impossible to coin a new word in English to describe the Chinese article, and equally inexpedient to introduce the native term. If, for example, the utensil used by the Chinese to shave with were picked up in Portsmouth by some English navvy who had never seen or heard of it, he would be more likely to call it an oyster-knife, or a wedge, than a razor; while the use to which it is applied must of course give it that name, and would, if it were still more unlike the western article. So with other things. The ideas a Chinese gives to the terms _hwangtí_, _kwanfu_, _pao_, _pih_, and _shu_, are very different from those conveyed to an American by the words _emperor_, _magistrate_, _cannon_, _pencil_, and _book_. Since a person can only judge of what he hears or reads by what he knows, it is desirable that when he meets with western names applied to their equivalents in eastern countries, the function of a different civilization, habits, and notions should not be overlooked in the opinion he forms. These remarks are peculiarly applicable to the domestic life of the Chinese, to their houses, diet, dress, and social customs; although careful descriptions may go a good way in conveying just ideas, it cannot be hoped that they will do what the most cursory examination of the object or trait would instantly accomplish.

~POPULAR ERRORS REGARDING FOREIGN COUNTRIES.~

The notions entertained abroad on these particulars are, it need hardly be remarked, rather more accurate than those the Chinese have of distant countries, and it is scarcely possible that they can lose their conceit in their own civilization and position among the nations so long as such ideas are entertained as the following extract exhibits. Tien Kí-shih, a popular essayist of the last century, thus congratulates himself and his readers: “I felicitate myself that I was born in China, and constantly think how very different it would have been with me if I had been born beyond the seas in some remote part of the earth, where the people, far removed from the converting maxims of the ancient kings, and ignorant of the domestic relations, are clothed with the leaves of plants, eat wood, dwell in the wilderness, and live in the holes of the earth; though born in the world, in such a condition I should not have been different from the beasts of the field. But now, happily, I have been born in the Middle Kingdom. I have a house to live in; have food and drink, and elegant furniture; have clothing and caps, and infinite blessings: truly, the highest felicity is mine.” This extract well indicates the isolation of the writer and his race from their fellow-men; among the neighboring nations even the Japanese would have shown him his erroneous view. The seclusion which had been forced upon both these peoples, who closed their doors as the surest possible defence against aggression from foreign traders and sought in this fashion to remove all cause of quarrel, brought with it in time the almost equal dangers of ignorance and inability to understand their true position among the nations of the world.

~ABSENCE OF GREAT ARCHITECTURAL MONUMENTS.~

The architecture of the Chinese suggests, in its general outline and the peculiar concave roof, a canvas tent as its primary _motive_, though there is no further proof than this likeness of its origin. From the palace to the hovel, in temples and in private dwellings, this type everywhere stands confessed,[348] and almost nothing like a dome or cupola, a spire or a turret, is anywhere found. Few instances occur of an attempt to develop even this simple model into a grand or imposing building. While the Mogul princes in India reared costly mausolea and palaces to perpetuate their memory and the splendor of their reigns, the monarchs of China, with equal or greater resources at command, seldom indulged in this princely pastime, or even attempted the erection of any enduring monument to commemorate their taste or their splendor. Whether it was owing to the absence of the beautiful and majestic models seen in western countries, or to ignorance of the mechanical principles of the art, the fact is not the less observable, and the inference as to the advance made by them in knowledge and taste not less just.

Fergusson has no doubt assigned one good reason for this fact, in that “the Chinese never had either a dominant priesthood or a hereditary nobility. The absence of the former class is important, because it is to sacred art that architecture has owed its highest inspiration, and sacred art is never so strongly developed as under the influence of a powerful and splendid hierarchy. In the same manner the want of a hereditary nobility is equally unfavorable to domestic architecture of a durable description. Private feuds and private wars were till lately unknown, and hence there are no fortalices or fortified mansions, which by their mass and solidity give such a marked character to a certain class of domestic edifices in the west.”[349] These reasons have their weight, but they hardly cover the whole question, whose solution reaches into the well-known inertness of the imaginative faculty in the Chinese mind. It is nevertheless true that there is nothing in the whole Empire worthy to be called an architectural ruin, nothing which can inform us whether previous generations constructed edifices more splendid or more mean than the present.[350]

~CONSTRUCTION OF CHINESE BUILDINGS.~

Dwelling-houses are generally of one story, having neither cellars nor basements, and lighted by lattices opening into a court; they must not equal adjacent temples in height, nor possess the ornaments appropriated to palaces and religious establishments. The common building materials are bricks, adobie or matting for the walls, stone for the foundation, brick tiling for the roof, and wood only for the inner work; stone and wooden houses are not unknown, but are so rare as to attract attention. The high prices of timber and the very partial use of window-glass have both tended to modify and restrict the construction of dwellings. The _ní chuen_, or sifted earth, is a compound of decomposed granite or gravel and lime mixed with water, and sometimes a little oil, of which durable walls are made by pounding it into a solid mass between planks secured at the sides and elevated as the wall rises, or by beating it into large blocks; when stuccoed and protected from the rain this material gradually hardens into stone. In houses of the better sort the stone work of the foundation rises three or four feet above the ground, and sometimes the finished surfaces, great size of the stones and the regularity of their arrangement make one regret that the same skill had not been expended on large edifices. In towns their fronts present no opening except the door, and when the outer walls of several houses join those of gardens and enclosures, the street presents an uninteresting sameness, unrelieved by steps, windows, balconies, porticoes, or front yards. The walls are twenty-five or thirty feet high, usually hollow, or too thin to safely support the roof unaided. In the common buildings a framework of wood is erected on the foundation, which has large stones so arranged as to receive the posts, and on these rests the entire weight of the roof. The brick nogging fills up the intervals, but supports nothing; it is sometimes solid, more frequently merely a face-work, and if the roof becomes leaky or broken a heavy rain will destroy the wall, as it soaks through the courses and washes out the mud within. In the central provinces common walls are often made of small bricks four inches square and one thick, which are laid on their edges in a series of hollows; between the courses a plank sometimes adds greater strength to the wall. These cellular constructions are more durable than would be imagined provided the stucco remains uninjured.

The bricks are the same size as our own, and usually burned to a grayish slate color; they are made by hand, and sell at a price varying from three dollars to eight dollars a thousand. In the sea-coast districts lime is cheaply obtained from shells, but in the interior from limestone calcined by anthracite coal; the people use it pure, only occasionally mixing sand with it for either mortar or stucco. The walls are often stuccoed, and when not thus covered the bricks are occasionally rubbed smooth and pointed with fine cement. In place of a broad cornice the top is frequently relieved by a pretty ornament of moulded work of painted clay figures in _alto relievo_, representing a battle scene, a landscape, clusters of flowers, or some other design, defended from the weather by the projecting eaves. A black painted band, relieved by corners and designs of flowers and scrolls, is a cheap substitute for the carved figures.

The roofs are hipped in some provinces, but rarely in the north. They are steep, and if kept tight will last several years; the grass which is apt to spring up on them is a source of injury, and its growth or removal alike endangers the soundness of the construction. The yellow and green glazed tiles of public buildings add to their beauty, as do the dragon’s heads and globes on their ridge-poles; these features, together with the earthen dogs at the corners of temples or official houses, make the structures exceedingly picturesque. In Peking the framework under the wide eaves of palaces is tastefully painted in green and gold, and protected by a netting of copper wire. Roofs are made of earthen tiles laid on coarse clapboarding that rests on the purlines in alternate ridges and furrows. The under layer consists of square thin pieces, laid side by side in ascending rows with the lower edges overlapping; the sides are covered by the semi-cylindrical tiles, which are further protected by a covering of mortar. In the northern provinces the tiles are laid in a course of mud resting on straw over the clapboarding. The workmen begin the tiling at the ridge-pole and finish as they come down to the eaves, so as not to walk over the tiles and crack them; but such roofs easily leak in driving storms. No chimneys are seen; the slope is steep, for quick discharge of rain and snow. Terraces are erected on shops, but balustrades or flat roofs are seldom seen. Occasionally the gable walls rise above the roof in degrees, imparting a singular, bow-like aspect to the edifice. The purlines and ridge-pole extend from wall to wall, and the rafters are slender strips. In all roofs the principal weight rests on the two rows of pillars at the sides, that uphold the plates, and the antefixæ which support the broad eaves far beyond the wall. A series of beams and posts above the plates and tie-beams make the roof very heavy but also secure; curb and mansard roofs are unknown.

The pillars of stone or timber in Chinese temples are often noticeable, owing to their size or length as single pieces. They are, however, unadorned with either capital or carved base, though the shaft may be finely carved and painted, the color decoration being often upon a thick coating of _papier-maché_, laid on to protect the wood. In two-story houses the sleepers of the floor are supported on tie-beams attached to the main posts if they do not rest on the wall. Posts form an element of all Chinese buildings, either to support the roof or the veranda. The entrance is on the sides, and the wall is set back from the outer line of the eaves so as to afford a shelter or porch. Hipped roofs enable the architect to encompass the entire building with a veranda, this being a common arrangement in the southern provinces. A slight ceiling usually conceals the tiling, but the apartment appears lofty owing to the cavity of the roof.

~ORNAMENTAL EDIFICES AND DWELLINGS.~

The pavilion is a prominent feature of Chinese architecture, and its ornamentation calls out the best talent of the builder in making his edifice acceptable. One charming specimen of this style at the Emperor’s summer palace of Yuen-ming Yuen is already famous, its material being of pure copper; it is about fourteen feet square and twenty high.

Another beautiful structure which well exhibits the pavilion is shown in the adjoining cut. It is the _Pih-yung Kung_, or ‘Classic Hall,’ built by Kienlung adjacent to the Confucian Temple at Peking (page 74), and devoted to expounding the classics. This lofty building, which may be here seen through an ornamental arch across the court, is perfectly square, covered with a four-sided double roof, whose bright yellow tiles and gilded ball at the apex produce a most brilliant effect in the sunlight. The deep veranda, completely encircling the structure and supported by a score of colored wooden pillars, very ably relieves the dead mass and heavy upper roof of the pavilion proper. Around flow the waters of a circular tank, edged with marble balustrades and spanned by four bridges which form the approaches to each of the sides.

The general disposition of a Chinese dwelling of the better sort is that of a series of rooms separated and lighted by intervening courts, and accessible along a covered corridor communicating with each, or by side passages leading through the courts. In cities, where the houses are cramped and the lots irregular in shape, there is more diversity in the arrangement and size of rooms; and in the country establishments of wealthy families, where the gradual increase of the members calls for additional space, the succession of courts and buildings, interspersed with gardens and pools, sometimes renders the whole not a little complicated. The great expense of timber for floors, posts, and sleepers has been the chief reason for retaining the single story, rather than the awkwardness caused by cramping women’s feet. No contrivance for warming the rooms by means of chimneys or flues exists, except that found in the _kang_, or brick bed, on which the inmates lie and sit.

The entrance into large mansions in the country is by a triple gate leading through a lawn or garden up to the hall; in towns, a single door, usually elevated a step or two above the street, introduces the visitor into a porch or court. A wall or movable screen is placed inside of the doorway, and the intervening space is occupied by the porter; upon the wall on the left is often seen a shrine dedicated to the gods of the threshold. In the houses of officials, upon this wall is inscribed a list of dignities and offices which the master has held during his life. The door is solidly constructed, and moves upon pivots turning in sockets. Under the projecting eaves hang paper lanterns informing the passer-by of the name and title of the householder, and when lighted at night serving to illumine the street and designate his habitation; for door-plates and numbers are unknown. The roughness of the gate is somewhat concealed by the names or grotesque representations of two tutelar gods, Shintu and Yuhlui, to whom the guardianship of the house is entrusted; while the sides and lintel are embellished with felicitous quotations written upon red paper, or with sign-boards of official rank. The doorkeeper and other servants lodge in small rooms within the gateway, and above the porch is an attic containing one or two apartments, to be reached by a rude stairway.

On passing behind the screen a court, occasionally adorned with flowers or a fancy fish-pool, is crossed before reaching the principal hall. The upper end of the hall is furnished with a high table, on which incense vases, idolatrous utensils, and offerings are placed in honor of the divinities and lares worshipped there, whose tablets and names are on the wall. Sometimes the table merely contains flowers in jars, fancy pieces of white quartz, limestone or jade, or ornaments of various kinds. Before the table is a large couch, with a low stand in its centre, and a pillow for reclining upon. In front of it the chairs are arranged down the room in two rows facing each other, each pair having a small table between them. The floors are made of thick, large tiles of brick or marble, or of hard cement. Even in a bright day the room is dim, and the absence of carpets and fireplaces, and of windows to afford a prospect abroad, renders it cheerless to a foreigner accustomed to his own glazed and loftier houses.

A rear door near the side wall opens either into a kitchen or court, across which are the female apartments, or directly into the latter and the rooms for domestics. Instead of being always rectangular the doors are sometimes made round, leaf-shaped, or semi-circular, and it is thought desirable that they should not open opposite each other, lest evil spirits find their way in from the street. The rear rooms are lighted by skylights when other modes are unavailable, and along the southern sea-coasts the thin laminæ of a species of oyster (_Placuna_) cut into small squares supply the place of window-glass. Commerce is gradually bringing this material into greater use all over the land, though the fear of thieves still limits it. Corean paper is the chief substitute for glass in the north. The kitchen is a small affair, for the universal use of portable furnaces enables the inmates to cook wherever the smoke will be least troublesome. Warming the house, even as far north as Ningpo, is not frequent, as the inmates rely on their quilted and fur garments for protection. The flue of the tiled-brick divan, or _kang_, is connected with a pit lined with brick dug in the floor in front; when the pot of coal is well lighted and placed near the opening, the draft carries the heat into the passages running under the surface, and soon warms the room without much smoke. The pot of burning coal furnishes all the cooking-fire the poor have, and at night the inmates sleep on the warm bricks.

~ARRANGEMENT OF COUNTRY HOUSES.~

The country establishments of wealthy men furnish the best expression of Chinese ideas of elegance and comfort. In these enclosures the hall of ancestors, library, school-room, and summer-houses are detached and erected upon low plinths, surrounded by a veranda, and frequently decorated with tracery and ornamental carving. Near the rear court are the female apartments and offices, many of the former and the sleeping apartments being in attics. Considerable space is occupied by the quadrangles, which are paved and embellished by fish-pools, flowering shrubs, and other plants. Mr. Fortune describes[351] the house and garden of a gentleman at Ningpo as being connected by rude-looking caverns of rock-work, “and what at first sight appears to be a subterranean passage leading from room to room, through which the visitor passes to the garden. The small courts, of which a glimpse is caught in passing along, are fitted up with rock-work; dwarf trees are planted here and there in various places, and graceful creepers hang down into the pools in front. These being passed, another cavernous passage leads into the garden, with its dwarf trees, vases, ornamented lattices, and beautiful shrubs suddenly opening to the view. By windings and glimpses along the rocky passages into other courts, and hiding the real boundary by masses of shrubs and trees, the grounds are made to appear much larger than they really are.”

The houses of the poor are dark, dirty, low, and narrow tenements, where the floor is of earth covered with mats or tiled, and the doorway the only opening, on which a swinging mat conceals the interior. The whole family often sleep, eat, and live in a single room. Pigs, dogs, and hens dispute the space with children and furniture--if a table and a few trestles and stools, pots and plates, deserve that name. The filthy street without is a counterpart to the gloomy, smoky abode within, and a single walk through the streets and lanes of such a neighborhood is sufficient to reconcile a person to any ordinary condition of life. On the outskirts of the town a still poorer class take up with huts made of mats and thatch upon the ground, through which the rain and wind find free course. It is surprising that people can live and enjoy health, and even be cheerful, as the Chinese are, in such circumstances. Between these hovels and the abodes of the rich is a class of middle houses, consisting of three or four small rooms surrounding a court, each one lodging a family, which uses its portion of the quadrangle.

The best furniture is made of a heavy wood stained to resemble ebony; camphor, elm, pine, aspen, and melia woods furnish cheaper material. Ornamental articles, porcelain vases, copper tripods or pots, stone screens, book-shelves, flowers in pots, etc., show the national taste. Ink sketches of landscapes, gay scrolls inscribed with sentences suspended from the walls, and pretty lanterns relieve the baldness of the room; their combined effect is not destitute of variety and elegance, though there is a lack of _comfort_. Partitions are sometimes fancifully made of lattice-work, with openings neatly arranged for the reception of boxes containing books. The bedrooms are small, poorly ventilated, and seldom visited except at night. A massive bedstead of costly woods, elaborately carved, and supporting a tester for the silk curtains and mosquito-bars, is often shown as the family pride and heirloom; a scroll of fine writing adorns its fringe or valance. Mattresses or feather beds are not used, and the pillow is a hollow square frame of rattan or bamboo. The bed, wardrobe, and toilet usually complete the furniture of the sleeping apartments of the Chinese; but if this is also the sitting room, the bed is rolled up so as often to furnish seats on its boards.

~STYLE OF GARDENS.~

The grounds of the rich are laid out in good style, and were not the tasteful arrangements and diversified shrubbery which would render them charming resorts almost always spoiled by general bad keeping--neglect and ruin, if not nastiness and offals, being often visible--they would please the most fastidious. The necessity of having a place for the women and children to recreate themselves is one reason for having an open enclosure, even if it be only a plat of flowers or a bed of vegetables. In the imperial gardens the attempt to make an epitome of nature has been highly successful. De Guignes describes their art of gardening as “imitating the beauties and producing the inequalities of nature. Instead of alleys planted symmetrically or uniform grounds, there are winding footpaths, trees here and there as if by chance, woody or sterile hillocks, and deep gulleys with narrow passages, whose sides are steep or rough with rocks, and presenting only a few miserable shrubs. They like to bring together in gardening, in the same view, cultivated grounds and arid plains; to make the field uneven and cover it with artificial rock-work; to dig caverns in mountains, on whose tops are arbors half overthrown, and around which tortuous footpaths run and return into themselves, prolonging, as it were, the extent of the grounds and increasing the pleasure of the walk.”

A fish-pond, supplied by a rivulet running wildly through the grounds, forms a pretty feature of such gardens, in which, if there be room, a summer-house is erected on a rocky islet, or on piles over the water, accessible by a rugged causey of rock-work. The nelumbium lily, with its plate-like leaves and magnificent flowers, is a general favorite in such places; carp and other fish are reared in their waters, and gold-fish in small tanks. Whenever it is possible a gallery runs along the sides of the pond for the pleasure and use of the females in the household. A tasteful device in some gardens, which beguiles the visitor’s ramble, is a rude kind of shell or pebble mosaic inlaid in the gravelly paths, representing birds, animals, or other figures; the time required to decipher them prolongs the walk, and apparently increases the size of the grounds. The pieces of rock-work are cemented and bound with wire; and in fish-pools, grottos, or causeways this unique ornament has a charming effect, the moss and plants which grow upon it adding rather to its appropriateness.

The wood and mason work is unsubstantial, requiring constant repairs; when new they present a pretty appearance, but both gardens and houses, when neglected, soon fall into a ruinous condition. Some of the principal merchants at Canton, in the former days of the hong monopoly, had cultivated grounds of greater or less extent attached to their establishments. One of them, by way of variety, constructed a summer-house entirely of glass, this wonderful structure being made so that it could be closed and protected with shutters.

The arrangement of shops and warehouses is modified by the uses to which they are applied, but they still resemble dwelling-houses more than is the case with stores in western cities. The rear room of the shop is a small apartment, used for a dormitory, store-room, or workshop, and sometimes for all these purposes together; it is in most cases on an upper floor. Small ones are lighted from the street, but the largest by a skylight, in which cases there is a latticed screen reaching across the room, to secure the inside from the street. The whole shop-front is thrown open by day and closed at night by shutters running in grooves, and secured by heavy cross-bars to a row of posts which fit in sockets in the threshold and lintel. The doorway recedes a foot or two, and the projecting roof serves to protect customers, and such goods as are exposed, from the rain and sun. In small shops there are two counters, a long one running back from the door, and another at right angles to it, reaching partly across the front. The shopman sits within the angle formed by these, and as they are low he can easily serve a customer in the street as well as in the shop. At night the smaller one often forms a lodging place for homeless beggars. The facing of the outer counter is of granite, and in Canton a niche containing a tablet inscribed to the god of wealth is cut in the end, where incense is burned. Another shrine is placed on high within the apartment, dedicated to the deity of the place, whoever he may be.

The loft is much contracted; and that it may not intercept the skylight, it is usually a small chamber reached by a gallery, and lighted in front. Chinese tradesmen do not make much display in exhibiting their goods, and the partial use of glass renders it somewhat unsafe for them to do so. The want of a yard compels them to cook and wash either behind or on top of the building; clerks and workmen usually eat and sleep under the shop roof. In the densest parts of Canton the roofs are covered with a loose framework, on which firewood is piled, clothes washed and dried, and meals cooked; it also affords a sleeping place in summer. In case of fire, however, these lumbered roofs become like so many tinder-boxes, and aid not a little to spread the flames.

~SHOP AND THOROUGHFARES.~

The narrowness of the streets in Chinese cities is a source of many inconveniences; few exceed ten or twelve feet in width, and most of those in Canton are less than eight. No large squares having fountains and shrubbery, nor any open spaces except the areas in front of temples relieve the closeness of these lanes. The absence of horses and carriages in southern cities, and a custom of huddling together, a desire to screen the thoroughfare from the sun, and ignorance of the advantages of another mode, are among the leading reasons for making them so contracted; while the difficulty of collecting a mob in them should be mentioned as one point in their favor. In case of fire it is difficult to get access to the burning buildings, and dangerous for the inmates to move or save their property. At all times porters carrying burdens are impeded by the crowd of passengers, who likewise must pass Indian file lest they tilt against the porters. Ventilation is imperfect where the buildings are packed so closely, and the public necessaries and their offal carried through the streets by the scavengers pollute the air. Drainage is very superficial and incomplete; the sewers easily choke up or get broken and exude their contents over the pathway. The ammoniacal and other gases which are generated aggravate the ophthalmic diseases so prevalent; and it is a matter of surprise that the cholera, plague, or yellow fever does not visit the inhabitants of such confined abodes, who breathe so tainted an atmosphere. The peculiar government of cities by means of wards and neighborhoods, each responsible to the officials, combined with the ignorance among all ranks of the principles of hygiene, will account for the evils so patent to one accustomed to the energetic sway of a mayor and board of health in most European cities, who can bring knowledge and power to coöperate for the well-being of all.

The streets are usually paved with slabs of stone laid cross-wise, and except near markets and wells are comparatively clean. They are not laid out straight, and some present a singularly irregular appearance from the slight angle which each house makes with its neighbors; it being considered rather unlucky to have them exactly even. The names of the streets are written on the gateways crossing them, whenever they are marked at all; occasionally, as at Canton, each division makes a separate neighborhood and has its own name; a single long street will thus have five, six, or more names. The general arrangement of a Chinese city presents a labyrinth of streets, alleys, and byways very perplexing to a stranger who has neither plan nor directory to guide him, nor numbers upon the houses and shops to direct him. The sign-boards are hung each side of the door, or securely inserted in stone sockets; some of them are ten or fifteen feet high, and being gaily painted and gilded on both sides with picturesque characters, a succession of them as seen down a street produces a gay effect. The inscriptions simply mention the kind of goods sold, and without half the puffing seen in western cities; accounts sometimes given of the inscriptions on sign-boards in Chinese cities, as “No cheating here,” and others, describe the exception and not the rule. The edicts of government, handbills of medicines and the famous doctors who make them, notices offering rewards for children who are lost or slaves escaped, new shops opened, houses to let, or other events, cover blank walls in great variety, printed on red, black, white, or yellow paper; the absence of newspapers leads shopmen to depend more for patronage upon a circle of customers and the distribution of cards than to spend much money in handbills. The shrines of the street gods occur in southern cities, located in niches in the wall, with altars before them.

The temples and assembly-halls are the only public buildings in Chinese cities belonging to the people. Their courts and cloisters, with such gardens, tea-houses, and pools as may be accessible, attract constant crowds, and furnish the only places of common resort. The priests derive no small portion of their income from travellers, and their establishments are consequently made more commodious and extensive than the number of priests or the throng of worshippers require.

~CLUB-HOUSES AND TAVERNS.~

The assembly-halls or club-houses form a peculiar feature of Chinese society. There are more than a hundred in Canton and many hundreds in Peking. They are built sometimes by a particular craft as its guildhall, or more commonly erected by persons resorting to the place for trade, study, or amusement, who subscribe to fit up a commodious establishment to accommodate persons coming from the same town. In this way their convenience, assistance, oversight, and general safety are all increased.[352] All buildings pay a ground rent to the government, but no data are available for comparing this tax with that levied in western cities. The government furnishes the owner of the ground with a _hung kí_, or ‘red deed,’ in testimony of his right to occupancy, which puts him in possession as long as he pays the taxes. There is a record office in the local magistracy of such documents.

Houses are rented on short leases, and the rent collected quarterly in advance; the annual income from real estate is between nine and twelve per cent. The yearly rent of the best shops in Canton is from $150 to $400; there is no system of insuring against fire, which, with the municipal taxes and the difficulty of collecting bad rents, enhances their price. Such kind of property in China is liable to many risks.

The taverns are numerous and adapted for every calling. Though they will not bear comparison with western hotels, they are far in advance of the cheerless khans and caravansaries found in Western Asia. The traveller brings his own bedding, sometimes also his own provision, and when night comes spreads his mat upon the floor or divan and lies down in his clothes. The better sort of travellers order a room for themselves, but officials or rich men go to temples, or hire a boat in which to travel and sleep; this usage takes off the best class of customers. One considerable source of income to innkeepers is the preparation of dinners for parties of men, who either come to the house or send to it for so many covers; for when a gentleman invites his friends to an entertainment it is common to serve it up at his warehouse, or at an inn. In towns and cities thousands of men eat in the streets; the number of eating and cooking-stalls produces a most lively impression upon a stranger. This custom has had a good effect in promoting the general courtesy so conspicuous among the people, and is increased by great numbers of street story-tellers. The noisy hilarity of the customers, as they ply their “nimble lads,” or chopsticks, and the vociferous cries of the cooks recommending their cakes and dishes, with the steaming savor from the frying-pan and kettles, form only one of the many objects to attract the notice of the foreign observer. Their appearance and the variety of bustling scenes and picturesque novelties presented to him afford constant instruction and entertainment. Those at Canton have been thus described by an eye-witness.

~STREET SCENES IN CANTON AND PEKING.~

The number of itinerant workmen of one kind or another which line the sides of the streets or occupy the areas before public buildings in Chinese towns is a remarkable feature. Fruiterers, pastrymen, cooks, venders of gimcracks, and wayside shopmen are found in other countries as well as China; but to see a travelling blacksmith or tinker, an itinerant glass-mender, a peripatetic repairer of umbrellas, a locomotive seal-cutter, an ambulatory barber, a migratory banker, a peregrinatory apothecary or druggist, or a walking shoe-maker and cobbler, one must travel hitherward. These movable establishments, together with fortune-tellers, herb and booksellers, chiromancers, etc., pretty well fill up the space, so that one often sees both sides of the streets literally lined with the stalls, wares, or tools of persons selling or making something to eat or to wear. The money-changer sits behind a small table, on which his strings of cash are chained, and where he weighs the silver he is to change; his neighbor, the seal-cutter, sits next him near a like fashioned table. The barber has his chest of drawers made to serve for a seat, and if he has not a furnace of his own he heats his water at the cook’s or the blacksmith’s fire near by, perhaps shaving his friend gratis by way of recompense.

The herbseller chooses an open place where he will not be trampled on, and there displays his simples and his plasters, while the dentist, with a ghastly string of fangs and grinders around his neck, testimonials of his skill, sits over against him, each with his infallible remedy. The book-peddler and chooser of lucky days, and he who searches for stolen goods by divination, arrange themselves on either side, with their tables and stalls, and array of sticks, pencils, signs, and pictures, all trying to “catch a little pigeon.” The spectacle-mender and razor-grinder, the cutler and seller of bangles and bracelets, and the maker of clay puppets or mender of old shoes, are not far off, all plying their callings as busily as if they were in their own shops. Then, besides the hundreds of stalls for selling articles of food, dress, or ornament, there are innumerable hucksters going up and down with baskets and trays slung on their shoulders, each bawling or making his own peculiar note, which, with coolies transporting burdens, chair-bearers carrying sedans, and passengers following one another like a stream, with here and there a woman among them, so fill up the streets that it is no easy matter to navigate one’s way. Notwithstanding all these obstructions, it is worthy of note and highly praiseworthy to see these crowds pass and repass with the greatest rapidity in the narrow streets without altercation or disturbance, and seldom with accident.[353]

Streets at the north present a somewhat different, and on the whole a less inviting because less entertaining and picturesque aspect. Their greater width allows carts to pass, and it also offers more room for the garbage, the rubbish, and the noisome sights that are most disgusting, all of which are made worse in rainy weather by the mud through which one flounders. Barrow thus delineates those in Peking: “The multitude of movable workshops of tinkers and barbers, cobblers and blacksmiths, the tents and booths where tea and fruit, rice and other eatables were exposed for sale, with the wares and merchandise arrayed before the doors, had contracted this spacious street to a narrow road in the middle, just wide enough for two little vehicles to pass each other. The processions of men in office attended by their numerous retinues, bearing umbrellas and flags, painted lanterns and a variety of strange insignia of their rank and station, different trains that were accompanying, with lamentable cries, corpses to their graves, and with squalling music, brides to their husbands; the troops of dromedaries laden with coals from Tartary; the wheel-barrows and hand-carts stuffed with vegetables, occupied nearly the whole of this middle space in one continued line. All was in motion. The sides of the streets were filled with an immense concourse of people, buying and selling and bartering their different commodities. The buzz and confused noises of this mixed multitude, proceeding from the loud bawling of those who were crying their wares, the wrangling of others, with every now and then a strange twanging sound like the jarring of a cracked jewsharp (the barber’s signal), the mirth and laughter that prevailed in every group, could scarcely be exceeded. Peddlers with their packs, jugglers and conjurers, fortune-tellers, mountebanks and quack doctors, comedians and musicians, left no space unoccupied.”[354]

~CONTROL OF BEGGARS AND FIRES IN CITIES.~

Shops are closed at nightfall, and persons going abroad carry a lantern or torch. Over the thoroughfares slender towers are erected, where notice of a fire is given and the watches of the night announced by striking a gong. Few persons are met in the streets at night, and the private watch kept by all who are able greatly assists the regular police in preserving order and apprehending thieves. These watchers go up and down their wards beating large bamboos, to let “thieves know they are on the lookout.” Considering all things, large Chinese cities are remarkably quiet at night. Beggars find their lodgings in the porches and squares of temples, or sides of the streets, and nestle together for mutual warmth. This class is under the care of a headman, who, in order to collect the poor-tax allowed by law, apportions them in the neighborhoods with the advice of the elders and constables. During the day they go from one door to another and receive their allotted stipend, which cannot be less than one cash to each person. They sit in the doorway and sing a ditty or beat their clap-dishes and sticks to attract attention, and if the shopkeeper has no customers he lets them keep up their cries, for he knows that the longer they are detained so much the more time will elapse before they come again to his shop. Many are blind and all present a sickly appearance, their countenances begrimed with dirt and furrowed by sorrow and suffering. The very difficult question how to assist, restrain, and employ the poor has been usually left to the mercy and wisdom of the municipal officers in the cities; and the results are not on the whole discreditable to their humanity and benevolence. Many persons give the headman a dollar or more per month to purchase exemption from the daily importunity of the beggars, and families about to have a house-warming, marriage, or funeral, as also newly arrived junks, are obliged to fee him to get rid of the clamorous and loathsome crowd.

When fires occur the officers of government are held responsible; the law being that if ten houses are burned _within the walls_, the highest officer in it shall be fined nine months’ pay; if more than thirty, a year’s salary; and if three hundred are consumed, he shall be degraded one degree. The governor and other high officers, attended by a few troops, are frequently seen at fires in Canton, as much to prevent thievery as to direct in extinguishing the flames. The engines are hurried through the narrow streets at a fearful rate; those who carry away property are armed with swords to defend it, and usually add to the crash of the burning houses by loud cries. The police do not hesitate to pull down houses if the fire can thereby be sooner extinguished, but there is no organized body of firemen, nor any well-arranged system of operations in such cases, though conflagrations are ordinarily soon under control. Cruel men often take the opportunity at such times to steal and carry off defenceless persons, especially young girls.

At Canton the usage is general of levying a bonus on the owners of the houses adjacent to the burnt district, whose dwellings were saved by the exertions of the firemen, the appraisement decreasing as the distance increases; the sum is divided among the firemen. The householders thus saved also employ priests to erect an altar near by, whereon to perform a service, and “return thanks for Heaven’s mercy.” On the whole, the fire control in China is superior to that in Turkey, where the firemen pay themselves for their efforts by extortions practised upon house-owners.

~PAGODAS, THEIR PURPOSE AND CONSTRUCTION.~

The pagoda is a building considered as so peculiar to the Chinese that a landscape or painting relating to China without a pagoda perched on a hill--like one of Egyptian scenery destitute of a pyramid--would be considered deficient. The term _pagoda_ is used in its proper sense by most of the French and Portuguese writers to denote a temple for idols, but in English books it has always been appropriated to the polygonal towers seen throughout the country. Some confusion has arisen in consequence of applying the account of an immense temple full of idols to these towers. The English use is the most definite in China, although its misapplication is indefensible if we regard its derivation.

The form of the Chinese _tah_ is probably derived from the spire on the top of the Hindu dagoba, as its name is doubtless taken from the first syllable; but their purpose has so long been identified with the geomantic influences which determine the luck of a place that the people do not associate them with Buddhism. Mr. Milne explains this in his remark that “the presence of such an edifice not only secures to the site the protection of heaven, if it already bears evidence of enjoying it, but represses any evil influences that may be native to the spot, and imparts to it the most salutary and felicitous omens.”[355] Those in the southern and central provinces seldom contain idols of any pretensions. They are ascended by stairways built in the thick walls on alternate sides of the stories. In the north there is another kind, designed to contain a _shé-lí_, or relic of Buddha, having a large room near the base for worshipping the idol placed in it, but otherwise entirely solid and nearly uniform in size to the top; the stories are merely numerous narrow projections, like eaves or string courses, on which hundreds of small images are sometimes placed. These structures more nearly resemble the Indian _dagoba_ than the other kind, and are always connected with a monastery, while those are not uniformly so placed, though under a priestly oversight.

No town is considered complete without a pagoda, and many large cities have several; there must be nearly two thousand in the Empire, some of which are quite celebrated. It is rare to see a new one, and the ruinous condition of most of them indicates the weakness of the faith which erected them. They vary in height from five to thirteen stories, and are mostly built in so solid a manner that they are likely to remain for centuries. One at Hangchau is octagonal, each face twenty-eight feet wide and the wall at the base eighteen feet thick; the top is reached by a spiral stairway between the walls; a covered gallery on the outside of each story affords resting-places and ever-changing views to the visitor; it is one hundred and seventy feet high, and was built during the Sung dynasty, in the twelfth century. The prospect from its summit is superb; the picturesque combination of sea and shore, land and water, city and country, wilderness, gardens, and hills, with many historical and religious associations interesting to a native, make it one of the most charming landscapes in China.

Sir John Davis visited one near Lintsing chau in Shantung, in very good repair, inhabited by Buddhist priests, and containing two idols; each of its nine stories was inscribed with _Ometo Fuh_, in large characters. It was erected since the completion of the Grand Canal. A winding stairway of near two hundred steps conducted to the top, about one hundred and fifty feet from the ground, from whence an extensive view was obtained of the surrounding country. The basement was excellently built of granite, and all the rest of glazed brick, beautifully joined and cemented.

The objects in building these structures being of a mixed nature, sometimes geomantic and sometimes religious, their materials, size, and structure vary considerably. There are two inside of Canton, and three near the Pearl River, below the city; fifteen others occur in the prefecture. Suchau has two, Ningpo one, Fuhchau two, and Peking six in and out of the walls. One of those at Canton was built by the Moslems about a thousand years ago, a plain brick tower nearly two hundred feet high, from which the faithful were probably called to prayers in the adjacent mosque. Fergusson’s remarks upon Chinese architecture would probably have been modified had the writer enjoyed a wider range of observation and a fuller knowledge of the designs of native builders. They are, however, the conclusions of a competent observer, and the position he gives to the pagoda among the tower-like buildings of the world, arising from its peculiar form, its divisions, and its apparent uselessness, will be generally accepted as just.

Mr. Milne, in his interesting work, has a good account of pagodas; he shows that while their model is of Hindu origin, and has been carefully followed since the first one was erected (about A.D. 250) at Nanking, the popular geomantic ideas connected with their octagonal form and great height have gradually increased and influenced their location. The Buddhists seem themselves to have lost their ancient confidence in the protection of the _shé-lí_ (or _saina_) supposed to be built in them. The number of Indian words transliterated in Chinese accounts of these edifices further proves their foreign origin. For convenience and accuracy in describing them, it would be best to restrict the term _pagoda_ to the hollow octagonal towers, the word _dagoba_ to the solid ones covering the relics, and _tope_ to the erections over priests when buried.

Pagodas are sometimes made of cast iron; those hitherto observed are in the central provinces. One exists in Chehkiang province, nearly fifty feet high and of nine stories. The octagonal pieces forming the walls are each single castings, as are also the plates forming the roof. The whole structure, including the base and spire, was made of twenty pieces of iron. Its interior is filled with brick, probably with the design to strengthen it against storms. The ignorance of the Chinese of later days of the Hindu origin of pagodas has led to their regarding those now in existence as of native design, and appropriated by the Buddhists for their own ends. Most of them are falling to ruins; and the assurances held out by the geomancers that the pagoda will act like an electric tractor to draw down every felicitous omen from above, so that fire, water, wood, earth, and metal will be at the service of the people, the soil productive, trade prosperous, and the natives submissive and happy, all fail to call out funds for repairing them.[356]

The dull appearance of a Chinese city when seen from a distance is unlike that of European cities, in which spires, domes, and towers of churches and cathedrals, halls, palaces, and other public buildings relieve the uniformity of rows of dwellings. In China, temples, houses, and palaces are nearly of one height; their sameness being only partially relieved by trees mingled with pairs of tall flag-staffs with frames near their tops, which at a distance rather suggest the idea of dismantled gallows. Nature, however, charms and delights, and few countries present more beautiful landscapes; even the tameness of the works of man serves as a foil for the diversified beauties of the cultivated landscape.

~MODES OF TRAVELLING.~

A Chinese usually prefers to travel by water, and in the southeastern provinces it may be said that vehicles solely designed for carrying travellers or goods do not exist, for the carts and wheelbarrows which are met with are few and miserably made. But north of the Yangtsz’ River, all over the Great Plain carts and wheelbarrows form the chief means of travel and transportation. The high cost of timber and the bad roads compel the people to make these vehicles very rude and strong, having axles and wheels able to bear the strains or upsets which befall them. Carts for goods are drawn by three or four horses usually driven tandem, and fastened by long traces to the axle-tree, one remaining within the thills. The common carts, drawn by one or two mules, are oblong boxes fastened to an axle, covered with cotton cloth, and cushioned to alleviate the jolting; the passengers get in and out at the front, where the driver sits close to the horse. In Peking the members of the imperial clan and family are allowed to use carts having the wheel behind the body; their ranks are further indicated by a red or yellow covering, and a greater or less number of outriders to escort them. The wheelbarrow is in great use for short distances throughout the same region. The position of the wheel in the centre enables the man to propel a heavy load readily. When on a good road, and aided by a donkey, the larger varieties of barrow carry easily a burden of a ton’s weight; two men are necessary to maintain the balance and guide the rather top-heavy vehicle.

~SEDAN CHAIRS AND RIVER CRAFT.~

Where travelling by water is impossible, sedan chairs are used to carry passengers, and coolies with poles and slings transport their luggage and goods. There are two kinds of sedan, neither of them designed for reclining like the Indian _palky_. The light one is made of bamboo, and so narrow that the sitter is obliged to lean forward as he is carried; the large one, called _kiao_, is, whether viewed in regard to lightness, comfort, or any other quality associated with such a mode of carriage, one of the most convenient articles found in any country. Its use is subject to sumptuary laws, and forbidden to the common people unless possessing some kind of rank. In Peking only the highest officials ride in them, with four bearers. In other cities two chairmen manage easily enough to maintain a gait of four miles an hour with a sedan upon their shoulders. Goods are carried upon poles, and however large or heavy the package may be, the porters contrive to subdivide its weight between them by means of their sticks and slings. The number of persons who thus gain a livelihood is great, and in cities they are employed by headmen, who contract for work just as carmen do elsewhere; when unengaged by overseers, parties station themselves at corners and other public places, ready to start at a beck, after the manner of _Dienstmänner_ in German cities. In the streets of Canton groups of brawny fellows are often seen idling away their time in smoking, gambling, sleeping, or jeering at the wayfarers; and, like the husbandmen mentioned in the parable, if one ask them why they stand there all the day idle? the answer will be, “Because no man hath hired us.”

The chair-bearers form a distinct guild in cities, and the establishments where sedans and their bearers are to be hired suggest a comparison with the livery stables of western cities; the men, in fact, are nicknamed at Canton _mo mí ma_, ‘tailless horses.’ A vehicle used sometimes by the Emperor and high officers consists of an open chair set upon poles, so made that the incumbent can be seen as well as see around him. It undergoes many changes in different parts of the country, as it is both cheap and light and well fitted for traversing mountainous regions.

In the construction and management of their river craft the Chinese excel. As boats are intended to be the residences of those who navigate them, regard is had to this in their arrangement. Only a part of the fleets of boats seen on the river at Canton are intended for transportation, a large number being designed for fixed residences, and perhaps half of them are permanently moored. They are not obliged to remain where they station themselves, but the boats and their inmates are both under the supervision of a water police, who register them and point out the position they may occupy. Barges for families, those in which oil, salt, fuel, or other articles are sold, lighters, passage-boats, flower-boats, and other kinds, are by this means grouped together, and more easily found. It was once ascertained that there were eighty-four thousand boats registered as belonging to the city of Canton, but whether all remained near the city and did not go to other parts of the district, or whether old ones were erased from the register when broken up, was not determined. It is not likely, however, that at one time this number of boats ever lay opposite the city. No one who has been at Canton can forget the noisy, animating sight the river offers, nor failed to have noticed the good-humored carefulness with which boats of every size pass each other without collision.

It is difficult to describe the many kinds of craft found on Chinese waters without the assistance of drawings. They are furnished with stern sculls moving upon a pivot, and easily propelling the boat. Large boats are furnished with two or three of these, which, when not in use, are conveniently hauled in upon the side. They are provided with oars, the loom and blade of which are fastened by withs, and work through a band attached to a stake; the rower stands up and pushes his oar with the same motion as that employed by the Venetian gondolier. Occasionally an oarsman is seen rowing with his feet. The mast in some large cargo boats consists of two sticks, resting on the gunwales, joined at top, and so arranged as to be hoisted from the bow; in those designed for residences no provision is made for a mast. Fishing boats, lighters, and sea-going craft have one or two permanent masts. In all, except the smallest, a wale or frame projects from the side, on which the boatmen walk when poling the vessel. The sails in the south are woven of strips of matting, sewed into a single sheet, and provided with yards at the top and bottom; the bamboo ribs crossing it serve to retain the hoops that run on the mast, and enable the boatmen to haul them close on the wind. A driver is sometimes placed on the taffrail, and a small foresail near the bow, but the mainsail is the chief dependence. No Chinese boat has a bowsprit, and very few are coppered, or have two decks, further than an orlop in the stern quarter in which to stow provisions; no dead-lights give even a glimmer to these recesses, which are necessarily small.

The internal arrangement of dwelling-boats is simple. The better sort are from sixty to eighty feet long, and about fifteen wide, divided into three rooms; the stem is sharp, and upholds a platform on which, when they are moored alongside, it is easy to pass from one boat to another. Each one is secured by ropes to large hawsers which run along the whole line at the bow and stern. The room nearest the bow serves for a lobby to the principal apartment, which occupies about half the body of the boat; the two are separated by trellis bulkheads, but the sternmost room, or sleeping apartment, is carefully screened. Cooking and washing are performed on a high stern framework, which is admirably contrived, by means of furnaces and other conveniences above and hatches and partitions below deck, to serve all these purposes, contain all the fuel and water necessary, and answer for a sleeping place as well. By means of awnings and frameworks the top of the boat also subserves many objects of work or pleasure. The window-shutters are movable, fitted for all kinds of weather and for flexibility of arrangement, meeting all the demands of a family and the particular service of a vessel; nothing can be more ingenious.

The handsomest of these craft are called _hwa ting_, or flower-boats, and are let to parties for pleasure excursions on the river; a large proportion of them are also the abodes of public women. The smaller sorts at Canton are generally known as _tankia_ boats; they are about twenty-five feet long, contain only one room, and are fitted with moveable mats to cover the whole vessel; they are usually rowed by women. In these “egg-houses” whole families are reared, live, and die; the room which serves for passengers by day is a bedroom by night; a kitchen at one time, a washroom at another, and a nursery always.

~DWELLERS ON THE WATER.~

As to this custom of living upon the water, we have an interesting testimony of its practice so far back as the fourteenth century, from the letter of a Dominican Friar in 1330. “The realm of Cathay,” writes the missionary, “is peopled passing well.... And there be many great rivers and great sheets of water throughout the Empire; insomuch that a good half of the realm and its territory is under water. And on these waters dwell great multitudes of people because of the vast population that there is in the said realm. They build wooden houses upon boats, and so their houses go up and down upon the waters; and the people go trafficking in their houses from one province to another, whilst they dwell in these houses with all their families, with their wives and children, and all their household utensils and necessaries. And so they live upon the waters all the days of their life. And there the women be brought to bed, and do everything else just as people do who dwell upon dry land.”[357]

It is unnecessary to particularize the various sorts of lighters or _chop-boats_ found along the southern coast, the passenger boats plying from town to town along the hundreds of streams, and the smacks, revenue cutters, and fishing craft to be seen in all waters, except to call attention to their remarkable adaptation for the ends in view. The best sorts are made in the southern provinces; those seen at Tientsin or Niuchwang suffer by comparison for cleanliness, safety, and speed, owing partly to the high price of wood and the less use made of them for dwellings. On the head waters of the River Kan the boats are of a peculiarly light construction, with upper works entirely of matting, and the hull like a crescent, well fitted to encounter the rapids and rocks which beset their course.

~REVENUE BOATS AND JUNKS.~

Besides these various kinds the revenue service employs a narrow, sharp-built boat, propelled by forty or fifty rowers, armed with swivels, spears, boarding-hooks, and pikes, and lined on the sides with a menacing array of rattan shields painted with tigers’ heads. Smugglers have similarly made boats, and now and then imitate the government boats in their appearance, which, on their part, often compete with them in smuggling. In 1863 the imperial government was induced to adopt a national flag for all its own vessels, which will no doubt gradually extend to merchant craft. It is triangular in shape, and has a dragon with the head looking upward. It is usual for naval officers to exhibit long yellow flags with their official titles at full length; the vessels under them are distinguished by various pennons. Junks carry a great assortment of flags, triangular and square, of white, red, and other colors, most of them bearing inscriptions. The number of governmental boats and war junks, and those used for transporting the revenue and salt, is proportionately very small; but if all the craft found on the rivers and coasts of China be included, their united tonnage perhaps equals that of all other nations put together. The dwellers on the water near Canton are not, as has been sometimes said, debarred from living ashore. A boat can be built cheaper than a brick house, and is equally comfortable; it is kept clean easier, pays no ground-rent, and is not so obnoxious to fire and thieves. Most of them are constructed of fir or pine and smeared with wood oil; the seams are caulked with rattan shavings and paid over with a cement of oil and gypsum. The sailing craft are usually flat-bottomed, sharp forward, and guided by an enormous rudder which can be hoisted through the open stern sheets when in shallow waters. The teak-wood anchors have iron-bound flukes, held by coir or bamboo hawsers--now often replaced by iron chain and grapnel.[358]

The old picturesque junk, with its bulging hull, high stern, and great eyes on the bow, is rapidly disappearing before steamers. Its original model is said to be a huge sea monster; the teeth at the cutwater and top of the bow define its mouth, the long boards on each side of the bow form the armature of the head, the eyes being painted on them, the masts and sails are the fins, and the high stern is the tail frisking aloft. The cabins look more like niches in a sepulchre than the accommodations for a live passenger. The crew live upon deck most of the time, and are usually interested in the trade of the vessel or an adventure of their own. The hold is divided into water-tight compartments, a contrivance that has its advantages when the vessel strikes a rock, but prevents her carrying a cargo comparable to her size. The great number of passengers which have been stowed in these vessels entailed a frightful loss of life when they were wrecked. In February, 1822, Capt. Pearl, of the English ship Indiana, coming through Gaspar Straits, fell in with the cargo and crew of a wrecked junk, and saved one hundred and ninety-eight persons (out of one thousand six hundred with whom she had left Amoy), whom he landed at Pontianak; this humane act cost him $55,000.[359]

~BRIDGES IN CHINA.~

Among secondary architectural works deserving notice are bridges and honorary portals. There is good reason for supposing that the Chinese have been acquainted with the arch from very early times, though they make comparatively little use of it. Certain bridges have pointed arches, others have semicircular, and others approach the form of a horse-shoe, the transverse section of an ellipse, or even like the Greek Ω, the space being widest at the top. In some the arch is high for the accommodation of boats passing beneath; and where no heavy wains or carriages cross and jar the fabric, it can safely be made light. A graceful specimen of this class is the structure seen in the illustration on page 754. This bridge, though serving no practical purpose, is one of the greatest ornaments about the Emperor’s summer palace of Yuen-ming Yuen. The material is marble; its summit is reached by forty steps rising abruptly from the causeway, and impracticable, of course, for any but pedestrians.

The balustrades and paving of the long marble bridges near Peking and Hangchau, some of them adorned with statues of elephants, lions, and other animals, present a pleasing effect, while their solidity and endurance of freshes running over the top at times attest the skill of the architects. Wooden bridges furnish means for crossing small streams in all parts of the land; when the river is powerful, or the rise and fall of the tide great, it is crossed on boats fastened together, with contrivances for drawing out two or three in the centre when the passing craft demand a passage. At Tientsin, Ningpo, and other cities, this means of crossing entails little delay in comparison to its cheapness. Some of the bridges in and about Peking are beautiful structures; their erection, however, presented no difficult problem, while that at Fuhchau was a greater feat of engineering. It is about four hundred yards long and five wide, consisting of nearly forty solid buttresses of hewn stone placed at unequal distances and joined by slabs of granite; some of these slabs are three feet square and forty-five feet long. They support a granite pavement. The bridge was formerly lined with shops, which the increased traffic has caused to be removed. Another similar bridge lies seven miles north of it on the River Min, and a third of equal importance at the city of Chinchew, north of Amoy. Some of the mountain streams and passes in the west and north are crossed by rope bridges of ingenious construction, and by chain suspension bridges.

Mr. Lowrie describes a bridge at Changchau, near Amoy, and these structures are more numerous in the eastern provinces than elsewhere. “It is built on twenty-five piles of stone about thirty feet apart, and perhaps twenty feet each in height. Large round beams are laid from pile to pile, and smaller ones across in the simplest and rudest manner; earth is then placed above these and the top paved with brick and stone. One would suppose that the work had been assigned to a number of different persons, and that each one had executed his part in such manner as best suited his own fancy, there being no regularity whatever in the paving. Bricks and stone were intermingled in the most confused manner, and the railing was here wood and there stone. We were particularly struck with the length of some of the granite stones used in paving the bridge; one was eight, another eleven, and three others eighteen paces, or about forty-five feet long, and two broad. The bridge averaged eight or ten feet in width, and about half its length on both sides was occupied by shops.”[360]

A causeway of ninety arches crosses a feeder of the Grand Canal near Hangchau. The stones for the arch in one bridge noticed by Barrow were cut so as to form a segment of the arch, and at each end were mortised into transverse blocks of stone stretching across the bridge; they decreased in length from ten feet at the spring of the arch to three at the vertex, and the summit stone was mortised, like the rest, into two transverse blocks lying next to it.[361] The tenons were short, and the disposition of the principal pieces such that a bridge built in this way would not support great weights or endure many ages. The mode of placing the pieces can be seen in the cut. In other instances the stones are laid in the same manner as in Europe; many small bridges over creeks and canals have cambered or straight arches. When one of these structures falls into ruins or becomes dangerous, the people seldom bestir themselves to repair the damage, preferring to wait for the government; they thereby lose the benefit of self-dependence and action.

~PAI-LAU, OR HONORARY PORTALS.~

It is singular how the term _triumphal arch_ came to be applied to the _pai-fang_ and _pai-lau_, or honorary portals or tablets, of the Chinese; for a triumph was perhaps never heard of in that country, and these structures are never arched. They consist merely of a broad gateway flanked with two smaller ones, and suggest a turnpike gate with side-ways for foot passengers rather than a triumphal monument. They are scattered in great numbers over the provinces, and are erected in honor of distinguished persons, or by officers to commemorate their parents, by special favor from the Emperor. Some are put up in honor of women who have distinguished themselves for their chastity and filial duty, or to widows who have refused a second marriage. Permission to erect them is considered a high honor, and perhaps the term _triumphal_ was given them from this circumstance. The economical and peaceful nature of such honors conferred upon distinguished men in China is most characteristic; a man is allowed to build a stone gateway to himself or his parents, and the Emperor furnishes the inscription, or perhaps sends with it a patent of nobility. Their general arrangement is exhibited in the title-page of this work; the two characters, _shing chí_, at the top, meaning ‘sacred will,’ intimate that it was erected by his Majesty’s permission.

Some of the _pai-lau_ are elaborately ornamented with carved work and inscriptions; and as a protection to the frieze a ponderous covering of tiles projects over the top, which, however, exposes the structure to injury from tempests. They are placed in conspicuous places in the outskirts of towns, and in the streets before temples or near government edifices. Travellers looking for what they had read about have sometimes strangely mistaken the gateways at the heads of streets or the entrance to temples for the honorary portals.[362] Those built of stone are fastened by mortises and tenons in the same manner as the wooden ones; they seldom exceed twenty or twenty-five feet in height. The skill and taste displayed in the symmetry and carving upon some of them are creditable; but as the man in whose honor it is erected is, generally speaking, “the architect of his own fame,” he prudently considers the worth of that commodity, and makes an inferior structure to what would have been done if his fellow-subjects, “deeply sensible of the honor,” had come together to appoint a committee and open a subscription list for the purpose. Among the numerous _pai-lau_ in and near Peking, two or three deserve mention for their beauty. One lies in the Confucian Temple in front of the _Pih-yung Kung_, and is designed to enhance the splendor of its approach by presenting, as it were, a frame before its façade. It is built of stone and overlaid with square encaustic tiles of many hues. The arrangement of the colors, the carving on the marble, and the fine proportions of the structure render it altogether one of the most artistic objects in China. Another like it is built in the Imperial Park, but the position is not so advantageous. Fergusson points out the similarity between these _pai-lau_ and certain Hindu gateways, and claims that India furnished the model. The question of priority is hardly susceptible of proof; but his fancy that a large _pai-lau_ in a street of Amoy presented a simulated coffin on it above the principal cornice, leads us to suspect that he was looking for what was never in the builder’s mind.

~MILITARY ARCHITECTURE--DRESS.~

The construction of forts and towers presents little worthy of observation, since there is no other evidence of science than what the erection of lines of massive stone wall displays. The port-holes are too large for protection and the parapet too slight to resist modern missiles. The Chinese idea of a fortification is a wall along the water’s edge, with embrasures and battlements, and a plain wall landward without port-holes or parapets, enclosing an area in which a few houses accommodate the garrison and ammunition. Some erected at the junction of streams are pierced on all sides; others are so unscientifically planned that the walls can be scaled at angles where not a single gun can be brought to bear. The towers are rectangular edifices of brick on a stone foundation, forty feet square and fifty or sixty high, to be entered by ladders through a door half way up the side.

The forts in the neighborhood of Canton, probably among the best in the Empire, are all constructed without fosse, bastion, glacis, or counter-defence of any kind. Both arrangement and placement are alike faulty: some are square and approachable without danger; others circular on the outer face but with flank or rear exposed; others again built on a hillside like a pound, so that the garrison, if dislodged from the battlements, are forced to fly up the slope in full range of their enemy’s fire. The gate is on the side, unprotected by ditch, drawbridge, or portcullis, and poorly defended by guns upon the walls or in the area behind. In general the points chosen for their forts display a misapprehension of the true principles of defence, though some may be noted as occupying commanding positions.

In recent times mud defences and batteries of sand-bags have proved a much safer defence than such buildings against ships and artillery, and show the aptitude of the people to adopt practical things. Though not particularly resolute on the field, the Chinese soldier stands well to his guns when behind a fortification of whose strength he is assured. The forts which have recently been constructed under supervision of European engineers are rapidly taking the place of native works in all parts of the country.

Dress, like other things, undergoes its changes in China, and fashions alter there as well as elsewhere, but they are not as rapid or as striking as among European nations. The full costume of both sexes is, in general terms, commodious and graceful, combining all the purposes of warmth, beauty, and ease which could be desired, excepting always the shaven crown and braided queue of the men and the crippled feet of the women, in both of which fashions they have not less outraged nature than deformed themselves. On this point different tastes exist, and some prefer the close-fitting dress of Europeans to the loose robes of Asiatics; but when one has become in a measure habituated to the latter, one is willing to allow the force of the criticism that the European male costume is “a mysterious combination of the inconvenient and the unpicturesque: hot in summer and cold in winter, useless for either keeping off rain or sun, stiff but not plain, bare without being simple, not durable, not becoming, and not cheap.” The Chinese dress has remained, in its general style, the same for centuries; and garments of fur or silk are handed down from parent to child without fear of attracting attention by their antique shapes. The fabrics most worn are silk, cotton, and grass-cloth for summer, with the addition of furs and skins in winter; woollen is used sparingly, and almost wholly of foreign manufacture.

~VARIETY AND MATERIAL OF APPAREL.~

The principal articles of dress are inner and outer tunics of various lengths made of cotton or silk, reaching below the loins or to the feet; the lapel on the right side folds over the breast and fits close about the neck, which is left uncovered. The sleeves are much wider and longer than the arms, have no cuffs or facings, and in common cases serve for pockets. A Chinese, instead of saying “he pocketed the book,” would say “he sleeved it.” In robes of ceremony the end of the sleeve resembles a horse’s hoof, and good breeding requires the hand to be kept in a position to exhibit the cuff when sitting. In warm weather one upper garment is deemed sufficient; in winter a dozen can be put on without discommodity, and this number is sometimes actually seen upon persons engaged in sedentary employments, or on those who sit in the air. Latterly, underwear of flannel has become common among the better dressed, who like the knitted fabric so close-fitting and warm. The lower limbs are comparatively slightly protected; a pair of loose trousers, covered to the knee by cloth stockings, is the usual summer garment; tight leggings are pulled over both in winter and attached to the girdle by loops; and as the trousers are rather voluminous and the tunic short, the excess shows behind from under these leggings in a rather unpleasant manner. Gentlemen and officers always wear a robe with the skirt opened at the sides, which conceals this intermission of the under apparel. The colors preferred for outer garments are various hues of buff, purple, or blue.

The shoes are made of silk or cotton, usually embroidered for women’s wear in red and other colors. The soles are of felt, sometimes of paper inside a rim of felt, and defended on the bottom by hide. These shoes keep the feet dry and unchilled on the tiles or ground, so that a Chinese may be said really to carry the floor of his house under his feet instead of laying it on the ground. The thick soles render it necessary for ease in walking to round up their ends, which constrains the toes into an elevated position so irksome that all go slipshod who conveniently can do so. The cost of a cotton suit need not exceed five dollars, and a complete silken one, of the gayest colors and best materials, can easily be procured for twenty-five or thirty. Quilted cotton garments are exceedingly common, and are so made as to protect the whole person from the cold and obviate the need of fires. In the north dressed sheepskin robes furnish bedding as well as garments, and their durability will long make them more desirable than woven fabrics.

The ancient Chinese wore the hair long, bound upon the top of the head, somewhat after the style of the Lewchewans; and taking pride in its glossy black, called themselves the _black-haired race_. But in 1627 the Manchus, then in possession of only Liautung, issued an order that all Chinese under them should adopt their coiffure as a sign of allegiance, on penalty of death; the fashion thus begun by compulsion is now followed from choice. The fore part of the head is shaved to the crown and the hair braided in a single plait behind. Laborers often wind it about the head or knot it into a ball out of the way when barebacked or at work. The size of the queue can be enlarged by permitting an additional line of hair to grow; the appearance it gives the wearer is thus described by Mr. Downing, and the quotation is not an unfair specimen of the remarks of travellers upon China: “At the hotel one of the waiters was dressed in a peculiar manner about the head. Instead of the hair being shaved in front, he had it cut round the top of the forehead about an inch and a half in length. All the other part was turned as usual and plaited down the back. This thin semi-circular ridge of hair was then made to stand bolt upright, and as each hair was separate and stiff as a bristle, the whole looked like a very fine-toothed comb turned upward. This I imagined to be the usual way of dressing the head by single unengaged youths, and of course must be very attractive.” Thus what the wearer regarded as ill-looking, and intended to braid in as soon as it was long enough, is here taken as a device for beautifying himself in the eyes of those he never saw or cared to see.

The people are vain of a long thick queue, and now and then play each other tricks with it, as well as use it as a ready means for correction; but nothing irritates them more than to cut it off. Men and women oftener go bareheaded than covered, warding off the sun by means of a fan; in winter felt or silk skull-caps, hoods, and fur protect them from cold. Laborers shelter themselves from rain under an umbrella hat and a grotesque thatch-work of leaves neatly sewn upon a coarse network--very effectual for the purpose. In illustration of the remark at the beginning of this chapter, it might be added that if they were not worn on the head such hats would be called trays, so unlike are they to the English article of that name. The formal head-dress is the conical straw or felt hat so peculiar to this nation, usually covered with a red fringe of silk or hair.

~OFFICIAL COSTUMES.~

The various forms, fabrics, colors, and ornaments of the dresses worn by grades of officers are regulated by sumptuary laws. Citron-yellow distinguishes the imperial family, but his Majesty’s apparel is less showy than many of his courtiers, and in all that belongs to his own personal use there is an appearance of disregard of ornament. The five-clawed dragon is figured upon the dress and whatever pertains to the Emperor, and in certain things to members of his family. The monarchs of China formerly wore a sort of flat-topped crown, shaped somewhat like a Cantab’s cap, and having a row of jewels pendent from each side. The summer bonnet of officers is made of finely woven straw covered with a red fringe; in winter it is trimmed with fur. A string of beads hanging over an embroidered robe, a round knob on the cap, thick-soled satin boots, two or three pouches for fans or chopsticks, and occasionally a watch or two hanging from the girdle, constitute the principal points of difference between the official and plebeian costume. No company of men can appear more splendid than a large party of officers in their winter robes made of fine, lustrous crapes, trimmed with rich furs and brilliant with gay embroidery. In winter a silk or fur spencer is worn over the robe, and forms a handsome and warm garment. Lambskins are much used, and the downy coats of unyeaned lambs, which, with the finer furs and the skins of hares, wild cats, rabbits, foxes, wolves, otter, squirrels, etc., are worn by all ranks. Some years ago a lad used to parade the streets of Canton, who presented an odd appearance in a long spencer made of a tiger’s skin. The Chinese like strong contrasts in the colors of their garments, sometimes wearing yellow leggings underneath a light blue robe, itself set off by a purple spencer.

~COSTUMES OF CHINESE WOMEN.~

The dress of women is likewise liable to few fluctuations, and all ranks can be sure that the fashion will last as long as the gown. The garments of both sexes among the common people resemble each other more than in Western Asia. The tunic or short gown is open in front, buttoning around the neck and under the arm, reaching to the knee, like a smock-frock in its general shape. The trousers among the lower orders are usually worn over the stockings, both being covered, on ceremonial occasions, by a petticoat reaching to the feet. Laboring women, whose feet are left their natural size, go barefoot or slipshod in the warm latitudes, but cover their feet carefully farther north. Both sexes have a paucity of linen in their habiliments--if not a shiftless, the Chinese certainly are a shirtless race, and such undergarments as they have are not too often washed.

The head-dress of married females is becoming and even elegant. The copious black hair is bound upon the head in an oval-formed knot, which is secured in its place and shape by a broad pin placed lengthwise on it, and fastened by a shorter one thrust across and under the bow. The hair is drawn back from the forehead into the knot, and elevated a little in front by combing it over the finger; in order to make it lie smooth the locks are drawn through resinous shavings moistened in warm water, which also adds an extra gloss, at the cost, however, of injury to the hair. In front of the knot a tube is often inserted, in which flowers can be placed. The custom of wearing them is nearly universal, fresh blossoms being preferred when obtainable, and artificial at other times. Having no covering on the head there is more opportunity than in the west to display pretty devices in arranging the hair. A widow is known by her white flowers, a maiden by one or two plaits instead of a knot, and so on; in their endless variety of form and ornament, Chinese women’s head-dresses furnish a source of constant study. Mr. Stevens tells us that the animated appearance of the dense crowd which assembled on the bridge and banks of the river at Fuhchau when he passed in 1835, was still more enlivened by the flowers worn by the women.

Matrons wear an embroidered fillet on the forehead, an inch or more wide, pointed between the eyebrows, and covering the front of the hair though not concealing the baldness which often comes on early from the resinous bandoline used. This fillet is embroidered, or adorned with pearls, a favorite ornament with Chinese ladies. The women along the Yangtsz’ River wear a band of fur around the head, which relieves their colorless complexions. A substitute for bonnets is common in summer, consisting of a flat piece of straw trimmed with a fringe of blue cloth. The hair of children is unbound, but girls more advanced allow the side locks to reach to the waist and plait a tress down the neck; their coarse hair does not curl, and the beautiful luxuriance of curls and ringlets seen in Europe is entirely unknown. False hair is made use of by both sexes, the men being particularly fond of eking out their queues to the fullest length. Gloves are not worn, the long sleeves being adequate for warmth; in the north the ears are protected from freezing by ear-tabs lined with fur, and often furnished with a tiny looking-glass on the outside.

The dress of gentlewomen, like that of their husbands, is regulated by sumptuary laws, but none of these prevent their costumes from being as splendid as rich silks, gay colors, and beautiful embroidery can make them. The neck of the robe is protected by a stiff band, and the sleeves are large and long, just the contrary of the common style, which being short allows the free use and display of a well-turned arm. The official embroidery allowed to the husband is changed to another kind on his wife’s robe indicative of the same rank. No belt or girdle is seen, nor do stays compress the waist to its lasting injury. One of the prettiest parts of a lady’s dress is the petticoat, which appears about a foot below the upper robe covering the feet. Each side of the skirt is plaited about six times, and in front and rear are two pieces of buckram to which they are attached; the plaits and front pieces are stiffened with wire and lining. Embroidery is worked upon these two pieces and the plaits in such a way that as the wearer steps the action of the feet alternately opens and shuts them on each side, disclosing a part or the whole of two different colored figures, as may be seen in the illustration. The plaits are so contrived that they are the same when seen in front or from behind, and the effect is more elegant when the colors are well contrasted. In order to produce this the plaits close around the feet, unlike the wider skirt of western ladies.

Ornaments are less worn by the Chinese than other Asiatic nations. The men suspend a string of fragrant beads together with the tobacco-pouch from the jacket lapel, or occasionally wear seal-rings, finger-rings, and armlets of strass, stone, or glass. They are by law prohibited from carrying weapons of any sort. The women wear bangles, bracelets, and ear-rings of glass, stone, and metal; most of these appendages are regarded more as amulets to ward off evil influences than mere ornaments. Felicitous charms, such as aromatic bags, old coins, and rings, are attached to the persons of children, and few adults venture to go through life without some preservative of this kind; no sacred thread or daub of clay, as in India, is known, however, nor any image of a saint or other figurine, as in Romish countries. The queer custom of wearing long nails is practised by comparatively few; and although a man or woman with these appendages would not be deemed singular, it is not regarded as in good taste by well-bred persons. Pedantic scholars wear them more than other professions, in order to show that they are above manual labor; but the longest set the writer ever saw was, oddly enough, on a carpenter’s fingers, who thereby showed that he was not obliged to use his tools. Fine ladies protect theirs with silver sheaths.

~MANNER OF COMPRESSING THE FEET.~

The practice of compressing the feet, so far as investigation has gone, is more an inconvenient than a dangerous custom, for among the many thousands of patients who have received aid in the missionary hospitals, few have presented themselves with ailments chargeable to this source. A difference of opinion exists respecting its origin. Some accounts state that it arose from a desire thereby to remove the reproach of the club feet of a popular empress, others that it gradually came into use from the great admiration of and attempt to imitate delicate feet, and others that it was imposed by husbands to keep their wives from gadding.[363] Its adoption was gradual, however it may have commenced, and not without resistance. It is practised by all classes of society except the Manchus and Tartars, poor as well as rich (for none are so poor as not to wish to be fashionable); and so habituated does one become to it after a residence in the country, that a well-dressed lady with large feet seems to be denationalized. There is no certain age at which the operation must be commenced, but in families of easy circumstances the bandages are put on before five; otherwise not until betrothment, or till seven or eight years old. The whole operation is performed, and the shape maintained, by bandages, which are never permanently removed or covered by stockings; iron or wooden shoes are not used, the object being rather to prevent the feet growing than to make them smaller.

A good account of the effects of this practice is given in a paper contained in the _Transactions of the Royal Society of London_, written by Dr. Cooper, detailing the appearances presented on dissection. The foot belonged to a person in low life; it was five and one-fourth inches long, which is full eighteen lines over the most fashionable size. The big toe was bent upward and backward on the foot, and the second twisted under it and across, so that the extremity reached the inner edge of the foot. The third toe somewhat overlapped the second, but lying less obliquely, and reaching to the first joint of the great toe. The ball of the great toe, much flattened, separated these two from the fourth and fifth toes. The fourth toe stretched obliquely inward under the foot, but less so than the little toe, which passed under and nearly across the foot, and had been bound down so strongly as to bend the tarsal bone. The dorsum of the foot was much curved, and a deep fissure crossed the sole and separated the heel and little toe, as if the two ends of the foot had been forced together; this was filled for three inches with a very condensed cellular tissue; the instep was three and one-half inches high. The heel-bone, which naturally forms a considerable angle with the ankle, was in a direct line with the leg-bones; and the heel itself was large and flat, covered with a peculiarly dense integument, and forming, with the end of the metatarsal bone of the great toe and the two smallest toes bent under the sole, the three points of taction in walking. When the operation is begun earlier, and the bones are more flexible, four of the toes are bent under the foot and only the big toe laid upon the top. The development of the muscles of the calf being checked, the leg tapers from the knee downward, though there is no particular weakness in the limb. The appearance of the deformed member when uncovered is shocking, crushed out of all proportion and beauty, and covered with a wrinkled and lifeless skin like that of a washerwoman’s hand. It is surprising how the circulation is kept up in the member without any pain or wasting away; the natural supposition would be that if any nutriment was conveyed to it, there would be a disposition to grow until maturity was attained, and consequently constant pain ensue, or else that it would be destroyed or mortify for want of nourishment.

The gait of these victims of fashion can be imitated by a person walking on the heels. Women walking alone swing their arms and step quick and short, elderly women availing themselves, when practicable, of an umbrella, or leaning upon the shoulder of a lad or maid for support--literally making a walking-stick of them. The pain is said to be severe at first, and a recurrence now and then is felt in the sole; but the evident freedom from distress exhibited in the little girls who are seen walking or playing in the streets, proves that the amount of suffering and injurious effects upon life and health are perhaps not so great as has been imagined. The case is different when the girl is not victimized until ten or more years old. The toes are then bent under and the foot forced into the smallest compass; the agony arising from the constrained muscles and excoriated flesh is dreadful, while, too, the shape of the member is, even in Chinese eyes, a burlesque upon the beautiful littleness so much desired.

~PREVALENCE OF THE FASHION.--LADIES’ SHOES.~

The opinion prevails abroad that only the daughters of the rich or learned pay this price to Dame Fashion. A greater proportion is indeed found among the well-to-do classes, and in the southern provinces near the rivers the unfashionables form perhaps half of the whole; for those who dwell in boats, and all who in early life may have lived on the water or among the farmsteads, and slave girls sold in infancy for domestics, are usually left in the happy though low-life freedom of nature. Close observation in the northern provinces show general adoption of the usage among the poor, whose feet are not, however, usually so small as in the south. Foreigners, on their arrival at Canton or Fuhchau, seeing so many women with natural feet on the boats and about the streets, wonder where the “little-footed Celestials” they had heard of were, the only specimens they see being a few crones by the wayside mending clothes. Across the Mei ling range the proportion increases. All the women who came to the hospital at Chusan in 1841, to the number of eight hundred or one thousand, had their feet more or less cramped; and some of them walked several miles to the hospital and home again the same day. Although the operation may be less painful than has been represented, the people are so much accustomed to it that most men would refuse to wed a woman whose feet were of the natural size; and a man who should find out that his bride had large feet when he expected small ones would be exonerated if he instantly sent her back to her parents. The _kin lien_, or ‘golden lilies,’ are desired as the mark of gentility; the hope of rising to be one of the upper ten, and escaping the roughness and hard work attached to the lower class, goes far to strengthen even children to endure the pain and loss of freedom consequent on the practice. The secret of the prevalence of the cruel custom is the love of ease and praise; and not till the principles of Christianity extend will it cease. In Peking, where the Manchus have shown the advantages nature has over fashion, the example of their women for two hundred and fifty years, aided by the earnest efforts of the great Emperor Kanghí, has not had the least effect in inducing Chinese ladies to give it up. The shoes are made of red silk and prettily embroidered; but no one acquainted with Chinese society would say that “if a lady ever breaks through the prohibition against displaying her person, she presents her feet as the surest darts with which a lover’s heart can be assailed!”[364]

Cosmetics are used by females to the serious injury of the skin. On grand occasions the face is entirely bedaubed with white paint, and rouge is added to the lips and cheeks, giving a singular starched appearance to the physiognomy. A girl thus beautified has no need of a fan to hide her blushes, for they cannot be seen through the paint, her eye being the only index of emotion. The eyebrows are blackened with charred sticks, and arched or narrowed to resemble a nascent willow leaf, or the moon when first seen--as in the ballad translated by Mr. Stent, which pictures the beauty as possessing

Eyebrows shaped like leaves of willows Drooping over “autumn billows;” Almond shaped, of liquid brightness, Were the eyes of Yang-kuei-fei.[365]

A belle is described as having cheeks like the almond flower, lips like a peach’s bloom, waist as the willow leaf, eyes bright as dancing ripples in the sun, and footsteps like the lotus flower. Much time and care is bestowed, or said to be, by females upon their toilet, but if those in the upper classes have anything like the variety of domestic duties which their sisters in common life perform, they have little leisure left for superfluous adorning. If dramas give an index of Chinese manners and occupations, they do not convey the idea that most of the time of well-bred ladies is spent in idleness or dressing.

~TOILET PRACTICES.~

At his toilet a Chinese uses a basin of tepid water and a cloth, and it has been aptly remarked that he never appears so dirty as when trying to clean himself. Shaving is done by the barber, for no man can shave the top of his head. Whiskers are never worn, even by the very few who have them, and mustaches are not considered proper for a man under forty. Snuff bottles and tobacco pipes are carried and used by both sexes, but the practice of chewing betel-nut is confined to the men, who, however, take much pains to keep their teeth white. Among ornamental articles of dress, in none do they go to so much expense and style as in the snuff bottle, which is often carved from stone, amber, agate, and other rare minerals with most exquisite taste. Snuff is put on the thumb-nail with a spoon fastened to the stopper--a more cleanly way than the European mode of “pinching.”[366]

The articles of food which the Chinese eat, and the mode and ceremonies attending their feasts, have aided much, in giving them the odd character they bear abroad, though uncouth or unsavory viands form an infinitesimal portion of their food, and ceremonious feasts not one in a thousand of their repasts. Travellers have so often spoken of birdsnest soup, canine hams, and grimalkin fricassees, rats, snakes, worms, and other culinary novelties, served up in equally strange ways, that their readers get the idea that these articles form as large a proportion of the food as their description does of the narrative. In general, the diet of the Chinese is sufficient in variety, wholesome, and well cooked, though many of the dishes are unpalatable to a European from the vegetable oils used in their preparation, and the alliaceous plants introduced to savor them. In the assortment of dishes, Barrow has truly said that “there is a wider difference, perhaps, between the rich and the poor of China than in any other country. That wealth, which if permitted would be expended in flattering the vanity of its possessors, is now applied to the purchase of dainties to pamper the appetite.”

The proportion of animal food is probably smaller among the Chinese than other nations on the same latitude, one platter of fish or flesh, and sometimes both, being the usual allowance on the tables of the poor. Rice, maize, Italian millet, and wheat furnish most of the cereal food; the first is emphatically the staff of life, and considered indispensable all over the land. Its long use is indicated in the number of terms employed to describe it and the variety of allusions to it in common expressions. To _take a meal_ is _chih fan_, ‘eat rice;’ and the salutation equivalent to _how d’ye?_ is _chih kwo fan?_ ‘have you eaten rice?’ The grain is deprived of its skin by wooden pestles worked in a mortar by levers, either by a water-wheel or more commonly by oxen or men. It is cleaned by rubbing it in an earthen dish scored on the inside, and steamed in a shallow iron boiler partly filled with water, over which a basket or sieve containing the rice is supported on a framework; a wooden dish fits over the whole and confines the steam. By this process the kernels are thoroughly cooked without forming a pasty mass, as is too often the result when boiled by cooks in Christian countries. Bread, vegetables, and other articles are cooked in a similar manner; four or five sieves, each of them full and nicely fitting into each other, are placed upon the boiler and covered with a cowl; in the water beneath, which supplies the steam, meats or other things are boiled at the same time. Wheat flour is boiled into cakes, dumplings, and other articles, but not baked into bread. Maize, buckwheat, oats, and barley are not ground, but the grain is cooked in various ways, alone or mixed with other dishes. Italian millet, or canary-seed (_Setaria_), furnishes a large amount of nutritious cereal food in the north; the flour is yellow and sweet, and boiled or baked for eating, often seasoned with jujube plums in the cakes. Its cultivation is easy, and its prolific crop makes up in a measure for the small seeds; ten thousand kernels have been counted on one spike in a good season.

~VEGETABLES EATEN BY THE CHINESE.~

The Chinese have a long list of culinary vegetables, and much of their agriculture consists in rearing them. Leguminous and cruciferous plants occupy the largest part of the kitchen garden; more than twenty sorts of peas and beans are cultivated, some for camels and horses, but mostly for men. _Soy_ is made by boiling the beans and mixing water, salt, and wheat, and producing fermentation by yeast; its quality is inferior to the foreign. Another more common condiment, called bean curd or bean jam, is prepared by boiling and grinding black beans and mixing the flour with water, gypsum, and turmeric. The consumption of cabbage, broccoli, kale, cauliflower, cress, colewort, and other cruciferous plants is enormous; a great variety of modes are adopted for cooking, preserving, and improving them. The leaves and stems of many plants besides those are included in the variety of greens, and a complete enumeration of them would form a curious list. Lettuce, sow thistle (_Sonchus_), spinach, celery, dandelion, succory, sweet basil, ginger, mustard, radishes, artemisia, amaranthus, tacca, pig weed (_Chenopodium_), burslane, shepherd’s purse, clover, ailantus, and others having no English names, all furnish green leaves for Chinese tables. Garlics, leeks, scallions, onions, and chives are eaten by all classes, detected upon all persons, and smelt in all rooms where they are eating or cooking. Carrots, gourds, squashes, cucumbers, watermelons, tomatoes, turnips, radishes, brinjals, pumpkins, okers, etc., are among the list of garden vegetables; the variety of cucurbitaceous plants extends to nearly twenty. Most of these vegetables are inferior to the same articles in the markets of western cities, where science has improved their size or flavor. Several aquatic plants increase the list, among which the nelumbium covers extensive marshes in the eastern and northern provinces, otherwise unsightly and barren. The root is two or three feet long, and pierced longitudinally with several holes; when boiled it is of a yellowish color and sweetish taste, not unlike a turnip. Taro is used less than the nelumbium, and so are the water-caltrops (_Trapa_) and water-chestnuts. The taste of water-caltrops when boiled resembles that of new cheese; water-chestnuts are the round roots of a kind of sedge, and resemble that fruit in color more than in taste, which is mealy and crisp. The sweet potato is the most common tuber; although the Irish potato has been cultivated for scores of years it has not become a common vegetable among the people, except on the borders of Mongolia.

~COMMON TABLE FRUITS.~

The catalogue of fruits comprises most of those occurring elsewhere in the tropic and temperate zones, and China is probably the earliest home of the peach, plum, and pear. The pears are large and juicy, sometimes weighing eight or ten pounds; the white and strawberry pear are equal to any western variety. The apples are rather dry and insipid. The peaches, plums, quinces, and apricots are better, and offer many good varieties. Cherries are almost unknown. The orange is the common fruit at the south, and the baskets, stalls, and piles of this golden fruit, mixed with and heightened by contrast with other sorts and with vegetables, which line the streets of Canton and Amoy in winter, present a beautiful sight. Many distinct species of Citrus, as the lemon, kumquot, pumelo, citron, and orange, are extensively cultivated. The most delicious is the _chu-sha kih_, or ‘mandarin orange;’ the skin, when ripe, is of a cinnabar red color, and adheres to the pulp by a few loose fibres. The citron is more prized for its fragrance than taste, and the thick rind is now and then made more abundant by cutting it into strips when growing, each of which becomes a roundish end like a finger, whence the name of _Fuh shao_, or ‘Buddha’s hand,’ given it. It will remain uncorrupt for two or three months, diffusing an agreeable perfume.