Chapter VI: Part 6

Fifty years ago Bangkok had none of the public buildings to be seen to-day,--perhaps a mile of good road and streets in only fair condition; now there are numerous drives and perfect communication to every point of the city. There are twelve miles of electric railway line, soon to be extended, while leading out from Bangkok are hundreds of miles of well-equipped railways. Jinrikishas are used in Bangkok, but with foreigners carriages are preferred. The native street, called Sampeng, is really a Chinese-Siamese combination, and might be termed a bazar on the order of those visited in previous cities. The streets, filled with strong odors, are small lanes running parallel with the river, and to me were less interesting than previous bazars, the venders seeming to be apathetic and having less variety of goods. This impression may, however, have been due to the midday hour, for the natives, understanding the climate, are only alert during the mornings and evenings. The season may also have lessened the dash and excitement of the street. We were told there were quite as many tribes and nationalities represented in Bangkok as in Singapore, and such a mixture usually means novelty. The dress and undress in Siam afforded variety, the men and women nearly alike, for, as stated in the description in connection with Ayuthia, the women have short hair and wear the panung precisely like the men.

The guides in Siam are not very competent, and could give us only ordinary information, so there was little for us to do but to speculate on certain points.

There are several interesting towns which are within a few hours' railway communication with Bangkok, but we could only read of them, as none of them had hotels or even rest houses for the convenience of tourists. This state of things will be remedied as soon as it is realized that the outside world is interested in this far-away kingdom, the first tourist party having visited Siam only two years ago. We were hampered before reaching this country by the lack of a guide-book (as we had been in Java), Murray's enlightening knowledge having extended only through India, Burma, and Ceylon; but after our arrival in Bangkok we found some local guide-books, from which we learned of the towns alluded to.

Petchaburi seemed one of the most interesting on account of the wonderful caves and temples, a description of which I will give in brief, in order to prove that Siam, like the other countries previously visited, has unusual attractions along these lines. The railway to Petchaburi was opened in 1902, and the journey takes five and a half hours from Bangkok. It is an old historic town of much importance and the centre of a very populous district. It is picturesquely situated on both banks of the stream, curving seaward at the foot of some wooded hills. One of the hills is crowned with the royal palace and another with a handsome temple. The palace is a magnificent edifice and commands wide views on all sides, the sea being clearly seen from the observatory. The hill on which is situated the temple, and its companion, are known as Kow Wang.

Descending a well-constructed, if somewhat precipitous, staircase for what must be fully a hundred feet, we find ourselves in a cave from which a very spacious archway leads into a huge vaulted chamber. The first impression is one of acute astonishment, by no means lessened, even after one becomes accustomed to the dim light inside. By rough calculation the cave is about two hundred yards long by one hundred wide. The floor is paved throughout with tiles, and at every turn there is an image of Buddha. At one end there is a statue fully fifteen feet high in a niche fronting the entrance, and near by is one twelve feet high. In a wide passage, leading to another extensive cave, is a statue of the sleeping Buddha, apparently about fifteen feet long, and in the semi-gloom which surrounds him, suggestive of eternal calm and peace. In this cave are more Buddhas, sitting, standing, and reclining.

Thence, on through a somewhat low and dark tunnel, we go to yet another cave, from which a short passage leads upward to what was the original dark entrance. This is now impassable, as the stairs have collapsed. Many curious stalactites are in clusters, some like inverted lilies and others like canopies or umbrellas; they are of all sizes, ranging from a few inches to several feet in diameter and some are tinted in various shades. The caves are well worth visiting, and a view of them will adequately repay the time and expense of the journey from Bangkok. In the centre of the town and near a quaint wooden bridge stands Wat Mahathal, conspicuous by reason of its unfinished brick tower, on the summit of which a couple of trees are growing; a quadrangle surrounding this contains one hundred and ninety-five images of Buddha, which are of interest if only because of the different expressions of their countenances.

The American Presbyterian Mission has a commodious hospital, pleasantly situated on the river bank, which enjoys a high reputation among the natives. There are two distinct tribes of Laos inhabiting this district. The women, on account of their peculiar headgear and jackets of dark cloth and short sarong, are interesting. The cultivation of rice is the prevailing industry in this district.

Judging by the number of Siamese feasts and festivals there are in the calendar, a holiday must always be in order. The Siamese official year opens April 1st, and about that time, a date regulated by the moon, the New Year holiday occurs. This is not celebrated quite as vigorously as it formerly was, but the country people make it the occasion for performing some great deed of merit, and this proves a time of harvest for the priests. Every one wears his best clothes, a special kind of cake is served, and the temples are thronged. Gambling laws are set aside, and in every house may be seen some game of chance. On the evening of the second day, for the festival continues through a period of three, all the guns along the palace walls are fired thirty-six times.

The Astronomical New Year soon follows, when the images of Buddha are sprinkled with water, while the priests hold a festival at the royal palace. Priests and aged people are presented with gifts.

When the sixth Siamese moon is at its full, the birth, inspiration, and death of the Lord Buddha are observed with great veneration; good deeds prompt every one, alms are given to the poor, and fine robes sent to the priests.

Twice a year the ceremonial drinking of the water of allegiance takes place at the royal palace. The princes, nobles, and principal Government officials assemble, drink, and sprinkle their foreheads with water in which various weapons have been dipped. Appropriate religious services are also held. The principal European officials also conform to this custom, which usually occurs in the months of March, April, and September.

The ploughing ceremony takes place in May and marks the beginning of the planting season. The King is represented by the Minister of Agriculture, who goes with a procession to the selected spot, and, after some religious service, takes hold of a plough which is drawn by two gayly bedecked oxen. After scratching the ground for about an hour, four ladies of the royal household, attired in ancient costumes, sow various kinds of seed carried in gilded baskets. The grain thus scattered is considered sacred, and there is a wild scramble for it at the close. Many signs and symbols are attached to various parts of the ceremony, which usually takes place at Dusit Park.

A swinging festival is very unique and interesting, but is quite complicated and has to be seen to be understood. The swing is very high and I think is stationary.

Another ceremony is the giving of priests' robes. This lasts a month, and the King or his deputies visit every Wat in the kingdom. At this time the boat racing at the Pakman Wat occurs, and the royal barge and State boats are all brought out for the occasion. At another festival, the Loy Krathong (all these celebrations have their Siamese names), the river Menam and the canals present a gala appearance, being dotted at night with thousands of miniature ships, rafts, and boats, each brilliantly lighted and bearing offerings to the goddess of water. This festival occurs in October and November.

But the greatest occasion of the year is the King's birthday, September 20th, the three following days being included in the festival. Everywhere the city is a blaze of red and white bunting, and at night it is brilliant with myriad lights, presenting a fairylike scene. About this time the Foreign Office gives its annual ball, a brilliant occasion for which invitations are in great demand.

Siamese ceremonies are quite as peculiar as their feasts. The habit of cutting the long tuft of hair, which is left on children's heads until they have attained their growth, is very striking, and at the royal palace very elaborate preparations are made, which include religious ceremonies and the use of a golden jewelled instrument resembling shears.

In Siam cremation is the general way of disposing of the dead. Among the wealthy classes the body is embalmed and kept sometimes three years before the ceremony, which is conducted with great pomp and on a very expensive plan, gifts being distributed among all the attendant friends and sums of money given to the priests and to the poor. The Chinese, of which there are large numbers, are usually buried, but in case of a mixed marriage the children are cremated.

There are many superstitions. A peculiar one in court circles is the wearing of a different-colored panung each day of the week,--on Sunday, red; Monday, cream; Tuesday, purple; and so on,--for good luck. Another is the use of buttons adorned with representations of animals, symbolical of the year in which certain persons are born,--this also for good luck. The tendency naturally leads to great respect being shown to fortune-tellers. The youth of Siam are, however, it is said, outgrowing this superstitious condition.

One time-honored custom is, however, in greater vogue than ever, and that is massage, which is employed by all classes.

While the foreign residents of Bangkok are not large in number, they have made their impress felt, and in no way more markedly than in the amusements which they have inaugurated. There are sixteen organizations, many of them recreation clubs for golf, tennis, and cricket, but there are also a literary club, a dramatic club, a Philharmonic Society, and a gymnasium. Bangkok has a good library, containing books of travel, reference, and fiction.

Racing is popular and is generally attended by the King, who gives gold cups for prizes. Hunting is in great favor, for game can be found near Bangkok, and at not a remote distance lurk the rhinoceros, buffalo, tiger, leopard, deer, antelope, hare, and crocodile. Elephants abound, but may not be shot.

Bangkok, as a city, becomes distinctively individual as one learns more of it; for instance, the telegraph and the telephone lines are controlled by the postal department and are working satisfactorily under this régime. As early as 1902, important fiscal changes were introduced: one was the closing of the mints to free silver, and the other an issuance of paper currency notes. The first meant the practical adoption of a gold standard. I cite these examples as showing still further progressive methods.

There are holiday resorts on the east coast of the gulf, where Bangkok residents can retire for a change of air. These have been mentioned. There are also remoter places of great interest farther in the interior and in the mountains, which will soon be available for travellers.

Rathburi is an old walled town of importance. Near here, the French Catholic priests have a mission house and seminary. The American Presbyterian Mission owns a fine hospital, and two missionary families are stationed here.

Phrapatoon is the seat of a large pagoda which is visible for many miles around. It was formerly gilded and was built in style similar to the pagodas seen in Burma.

With all the available information about the kingdom of Siam, one cannot but feel that it has a future full of possibilities; certain it is that the measures already inaugurated by the King are made for the welfare of his people.

The tropical growth of Siam impressed us only slightly, as we had just come from Java, "the garden of the earth." Otherwise we should have been enthusiastic over the beauty of the landscape and the luxurious growth of trees and plants.

There was no special programme on our last morning in Bangkok, and so I wandered around for final impressions and for photographs. I had an amusing little talk with what proved to be the court photographer. Among other notables of the realm, he showed me a picture of the Crown Prince, whereupon I innocently asked him how many sons there were. He replied, "Sixty-seven," and that he had taken all their photographs. The reply was rather startling, and I impulsively asked, "And how many daughters?" He looked blank and admitted that he did not know. Of course I understood that the family relations of the King were modelled on strictly Oriental lines, and that he had three legal wives, the number prescribed by law; but I was unprepared for a statement that showed a daughter in a royal household to be such a nonentity as the above implied.

When I visited the market, I saw an unlimited number of fruits as well as vegetables; cocoanuts, plantains, bananas, durians, pineapples, bread-fruit, jack-fruit, dates, almonds, pomaloes, mangoes (fifty varieties), mangosteens, custard apples, limes, oranges, tamarinds, figs, and papayas, all are to be found here in their proper season. I did not even know the names of some, but never again do I hope to see such a display.

There were fewer flowers than I had been led to expect, but the flora of Siam is said to be particularly rich in unusual varieties of orchids, which are found flourishing abundantly even in the jungles, and a visit would well repay a collector. A person can find a rich field in Siam along many lines of investigation.

We left Bangkok in the afternoon on the steamer _Nuen-tung_ for a five days' return trip to Singapore. I have already alluded to the "sand bar" which is an obstacle to navigation; hence it is that the heavy freight vessels anchor fifty miles distant at Koh-si-Chang, but I learned later that this obstacle could have been removed by dredging, had not the authorities declined to take any action, as the "bar" furnished a safe means of defence should war ever occur.

We saw various pagodas as we advanced; the most noted example was in the village of Pakman. As viewed through masses of foliage, it reminded us of the trip on the Irrawaddy River in Burma. A cargo of rice was taken on at Koh-si-Chang, and we did not leave there until eleven, the day following. A group of islands similarly called was a feature of the trip. It was cooler when we entered the Gulf of Siam, and the China Sea was favorably smooth. The conditions of the steamer were unchanged, but they had grown familiar to us, and even the cockroaches no longer intimidated me.

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SINGAPORE: We arrived at Singapore early in the morning, and for a third time viewed the shores; on this trip we went to the Raffles Hotel for a brief sojourn. The place is airy, capacious, and semi-Oriental, and reminded us of Colombo, as did the temperature, for although but two degrees from the equator, the air was like June at home, and without any of the chill in the evening that we sometimes experience; so it was a great pleasure to sit out in the corridor-like veranda and listen to the music. It was all so contrary to our expectations, for we had been told fearful tales about heat, insects, and general discomfort on the Malay Peninsula, or on what they term the "Straits Settlements."

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JOHORE: To commence with, we devoted the first afternoon to an excursion to Johore, the capital of an independent Malay province, whose Sultan reigns with pomp and ceremony. After a railway ride, we took the ferry across the river, where a scene of loveliness awaited us. The city is unpretentious in appearance, but our afternoon excursion revealed to us a varied landscape with a tropical growth. We visited a plantation where india rubber, one of the chief articles of export, is cultivated; then a large Mohammedan mosque, finely located on an eminence. The tiger house on this particular day held but one inmate, who showed no desire to devour us.

The grounds surrounding the palace are as spacious and as well cared for as a botanical garden, with the brilliant flowers, blossoming trees, and a great number of red sealing-wax palms. The palace is luxuriantly embowered in vines and trees. Johore is a famous gambling-place, but the "parlors" were deserted on this afternoon, and we could see only the fine furnishings in carved teakwood.

The stay in Johore ended with tea at a hotel. Here we saw the real Sultan entertaining a party of Europeans. He looked young and was dressed in an immaculate English style, quite unlike the striped calico suits displayed by royalty at Jeypore, India. He came in a French automobile, and is said to pass half his time in Singapore, being fond of society. We arrived in Singapore for dinner, and during the evening a delightful surprise awaited me in the appearance of two Milwaukee friends.

The following day much ground was covered, for, by invitation of Cincinnati friends, I took a motor ride of about forty miles amidst undreamed-of beauty, both near the city and in the surrounding country. There were streets lined with villas whose gardens were full of a luxuriant growth of shrubs and flowers; some of them had the quaintest high-arched gateways, with coats of arms and animals carved in stone on each side of the entrance. The Botanical Gardens were very interesting, as was also the park, miles from the city, and laid out around the reservoir, which furnishes all the water supply. We went on and on until we reached the "Gap," where a mountain view awaited us. We visited the shops and bazars before luncheon, and in the afternoon all of us explored the native Malay quarter. The dress of the women was unlike any other seen in the Orient. The Chinese seemed to be the real residents, for everywhere they prevailed in large numbers.

In whatever direction we went, new features revealed themselves, and we commended the wisdom of Sir Stamford Raffles in founding this island city with its wonderful harbor, where shipping from almost all parts of the world congregates, making the active sights at the quay at once novel and business-like. Indians, Sikhs, Malays, and other nationalities are represented, but the Chinese perform all the menial labor required.

The coolie is a character,--patient, hard-working, uncomplaining, supplying a demand throughout the Orient, made necessary, as we have seen, by the indolence of the Burmese and of the Malays, to mention only two examples.

Singapore is very gay in the season, and a centre for the wealth of the Far East; indeed, sultans and nabobs consider it a veritable Paris.

The last morning of our stay, I went around in a jinrikisha, and my man was as fleet as a horse. I had an experience trying to find so simple an article as a paper of pins, visiting shop after shop. Evidently they have not learned the ways of the American department store!

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HONG-KONG: We sailed in the late afternoon on the steamer _Moltke_ for a five days' voyage to Hong-Kong, with a feeling that we had experienced no discomfort but much pleasure in the seemingly maligned city of Singapore.

We passed the Strait of Malacca without any untoward excitement, and we steamed along pleasantly with a group of passengers who looked well-bred and agreeable; as time went on, our first impression of them was corroborated. A delightful feature aboard was music every evening in the salon, mostly singing. There was a service on Sunday, both for the first-class and second-class passengers. We soon entered the China Sea, which was to be our sole waterway to Hong-Kong, fifteen hundred miles distant, or rather to the Straits of Formosa, which guard the China Sea on the north, as the Strait of Malacca does on the south. We reached port on the morning of March 20th, and the approach--past many islands, along the fine harbor, with its high rocky shores, towering mountains in the background, and a terraced city in the foreground--gave us a new sensation. We landed at Kowloon and were taken across to Hong-Kong (which, properly and legally speaking, is Victoria).

Fronting the landing is a long street of fine stone business houses, which extend tier after tier from the shore and in a way represent the city's commercial importance.

The Hong-Kong Hotel is situated in the business centre; although under English management, the service was entirely Chinese, and at luncheon we were confronted by an array of waiters with braids around their heads and wearing long blue garments made like aprons; the ensemble was indeed most depressing. The menu presented a curious feature, the courses being numbered, and you were expected to point to the number, but woe to any one who wished an egg boiled four minutes or a piece of rare roast!

Hong-Kong is on the north shore of the island, and dampness prevails even when it does not rain (there is an unusual amount of rain); in consequence, great care has to be observed by the residents, both of their homes and clothing. Yet, notwithstanding this and other disabilities, the English have made the island "blossom like a rose." Engineering enterprise has converted the mountain-side into an attractive residence centre. A railway leading to the Peak (the highest point in the landscape) is not only a convenience, but a pleasure on account of the magnificent view afforded along the ascent. A little lower is an attractive Peak Hotel, which is popular with residents. At every point on the heights there are features to impress one, as we found the afternoon of our arrival, when we took jinrikishas to visit Happy Valley, where are located the public garden and the Protestant cemetery, which is also laid out like a park. The Catholic cemetery is near by and has the same general features. Happy Valley is also the scene for various sports, such as golf, tennis, croquet, and racing, in which Hong-Kong abounds.

The afternoon of our visit, we walked about to various points, enjoying the views, and commending the perfection which had been wrought since 1842, when China ceded the island to Great Britain. Realizing that Hong-Kong was destined to be a world port, England some years since leased a portion of the mainland from China for further harbor facilities. This strip extends back thirty miles and is held for a term of ninety-nine years. The city retains its former name, Kowloon, but its business facilities are all under English management. The miles of docks, warehouses, shipyards, and machine shops are another proof of the wisdom and forethought with which Great Britain carries out her plans for colonizing alien places.

Hong-Kong was destined to be our headquarters for nearly two weeks; it is a convenient point from which to make excursions. On the first Sunday morning I attended service at the English Cathedral; the building is on the heights, surrounded by a well-kept close and overlooking a fine residence portion of the city. I was conveyed to church in a sedan chair on account of the steep ascent. During our excursion to the Peak, we first took a railway chair, then a sedan chair; leaving that, we had a long climb before we reached the summit, where there is a flagstaff. What a view was before us--mountains in the distance, the harbor and the islands, shipping of all kinds, and roofs of every description! Descending, we had tea at the Peak Hotel. Another afternoon we went in a launch to Kowloon. We took a jinrikisha for a general exploration of the old Chinese city, and aside from what has been indicated, we went through the native quarter, saw several temples, visited a Chinese school, and ascended the high wall for a view. Much of the wall is unimpaired. A drive in the country followed, and we saw many tiny Chinese gardens and a number of cemeteries.

The jinrikisha ride to Aberdeen, a fishing village some miles distant, proved delightful. The roadway was sometimes close to the water's edge; then we ascended and looked down over low cliffs, with coves ever and anon dotting the shore. It reminded me continually of the ride from Sorrento to Amalfi, and again of the Upper Corniche drive from Mentone to Nice.

Early on Wednesday, March 25th, we left on the steamer _Keung Shang_ for a visit to Canton, ninety miles distant. Leaving the commercial city and a fleet of shipping vessels behind us, we had some miles of lake scenery; then we had islands and the coast line beyond. Soon we were in Pearl River, and the surroundings grew more picturesque,--now a little village near the water's edge with a mountain behind, and then more islands and more mountain ranges. We had a glimpse of Castle Peak, two thousand feet high. We then passed an immense prominence, called the Half-Way Rock. At a place known as Tiger's Mouth, fortifications were seen. The country soon becomes flat, with rice fields and fruit farms; we saw the Whampoa Pagoda and some miles farther on the Honam Pagoda. Near Canton, we passed another pagoda, and then the white spire of the French cathedral gleamed out, and our goal was reached. It is a most interesting river trip, and is unfortunately more often taken at night, in order to economize time.

The first impression of Canton is one of noise, a fearful din rising and falling in a kind of cadence, and seeming to proceed largely from an immense flotilla of boats extending a long way, tied, in a majority of cases, seven and eight rows deep--craft of all kinds, sampans, junks, rice boats, freight, each with its quota of humanity, for this is a veritable floating city, with a life all its own, and almost wholly independent of the Canton proper which we were about to visit and which numbered a hundred thousand souls.

We had not anticipated much enjoyment in Canton, having read of the dirt and smells, but we had not expected to be deafened at our very entrance, and I think for the time being it dulled the consciousness of this wonderful spectacle of a floating independent city just at the door of a city whose name is famous the world over.

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CANTON, _March 25th_: We were soon conveyed up a back canal to the Shameen (the name of the city of foreign concession), where our quarters, the Hotel Victoria, were located. My room was situated on the ground floor, the gallery opening on a large garden or court, abloom with trees and flowers. There was no key to the door, and strangers were all about me, but the complacent manner in which I met this fact caused me to realize that my courage was greater than when at Jeypore in far-away India.

The first afternoon, a jinrikisha ride convinced us that we were in the most congested city on the face of the globe; a city of streets so narrow that two chairs could hardly pass each other; a city of strange sights and more violent contrasts than any we had yet seen. And the smells!--the English language does not contain words strong enough to describe them. In the bazar portion of the city we were diverted by the box-like shops, with their open fronts, and filled with curios, works in jade, wood, and unique articles of feather jewelry.

Then the wonderful Chinese signs! We had noticed and admired them in Hong-Kong, but in size and beauty they now far excelled anything of the kind we had seen before. They extended from an upper story, for these bazars were many of them on the ground floor of four-story apartments, each story having its front gallery where one could witness diversified scenes of family life. The signs are about a half a yard wide and are decorated from top to bottom, with gold and brilliant colors, the Chinese letters forming a large feature of the display. These signs (sometimes five grouped together) are wonderfully effective, as they sway back and forth in the wind, and they are a partial indication of the Chinese industry which prevails.

There were larger shops in better locations in the city, and here we found the grass linen embroidered articles and the crape for which Canton is famous.

The following morning, we departed on a more serious sight-seeing expedition, to include all manner of typical Cantonese places, but before I had been out an hour I decided that the description of one temple only would not adequately convey a true impression, for everywhere we went things seemed unreal and grotesque, but interesting. First, we entered what our guide termed the Medicine Temple, not so very large, where on the opposite side of the room huge idols were placed before all manner of receptacles for holding medicine; next a Buddhist Temple, very inferior to any we had seen; then a Confucian temple, plain like the majority of them; while a Shinto temple had the characteristic torii before it. This latter I will describe when Japan, the land of the torii, is the topic.

The Five-story Pagoda is quite imposing, as it is placed on the city wall and commands a wide view. It is the custom for parties to go there and take their picnic luncheon, and our guide had planned for us to do this, but unfortunately the pagoda was being repaired and visitors were not permitted. So we proceeded to a large building on an eminence, which was furnished like a club house and was evidently for public use. There was a conventional garden in front, affording a very extended view.

A visit to the so-called "Home of the Dead" followed; this was unlike anything ever experienced before. We entered an enclosure, laid out partly as a garden; there were walks leading around, and some of them had low rooms at the sides, with open fronts, while on a plinth rested coffins of different styles; the bodies within were awaiting burial. Flowers were scattered here and there, and I believe fruit, food, and offerings of various kinds also.

We next visited the place of execution, which was ghastly with its associations, and the executioner swung the large instrument around, as the guide explained the process of decapitating heads. But fortunately for our nerves the place then contained only long rows of jars from a pottery near by.

The Nambo Prison proved to be a wooden affair, gates and all, but the poor unkept, unwashed victims who glared at us through the bars looked too sickly and emaciated to offer any resistance, even had they a mind to escape.

By far the most interesting place we visited was the Temple of the Five Hundred Genii, with large brass gods seated on opposite sides of a long hall,--the Temple of the Five Genii, and the ancestral temple of a certain royal family of China. We first entered a large enclosure, then a goodly-sized audience room, and next the temple proper. The three walls of this room (as I remember them) were fitted up like an immense cabinet, with rows of drawers, each supposed to contain some document relating to that particular ancestor. There was one upright vacant space which the guide said would be filled when that branch of the family died.

We were here without a "Murray," as in Java and Siam, so we graciously accepted such information as our most intelligent guide could give us, who, by the way, was the original guide of Canton, two sons now following in his footsteps, for the father in his later years rarely accompanies parties. He is a gentleman, affable, well dressed in Chinese brocade, and less unresponsive than are most Chinese; it was indeed a pleasure to be "conducted" by him.

The Hall of Examination is open to the public only once in three years, when students of high-school grade are examined for entrance to a university course, eighty-seven of the applicants being chosen. The hall has, on three sides, little box-like slates about six by eight feet, furnished with only a plank on which the student must sit and sleep. He is shut in there for three days, food being given him on entering for the entire time. This torture is repeated three times, so that nine days of purgatory have to be endured before the goal is reached.

The aristocracy of Canton is not one of wealth, but of intellectual honors; many of the Chinamen who are seen wearing horn-rimmed spectacles are either of a literary turn of mind or are attempting to pass as such.

Seen from the city wall or any very high point, Canton seems a city of roofs, with scarcely an opening and not a vestige of green. The narrow streets are many of them covered with awnings. It is a city of great color, the brilliant signs, the covered palanquin chairs, the costumes of the wealthy Chinese, all contributing to the riotous effect. It is a city of very wide contrasts, for rich and poor jostle each other on the streets and their homes are often side by side.

Canton is, after all, even with the noise, smells, and dirt included, a fascinating city, and while one would not care to remain long in it, one should never omit it.

Shameen, the island of concession, where are located two hotels, consulates, churches, some shops, and the homes of all the foreign residents, is a most pleasing place. Long avenues of trees are seen on every side, the grounds of many of the homes sloping to the river, which of itself adds to the beauty; the water is spanned by two iron bridges which are locked every night; everywhere a general air of refinement prevails. This very Shameen furnishes the greatest contrast of all to hoary, venerable old Canton.

It is claimed that Canton's origin dates from three hundred years before the Christian era. The city was then encircled by a kind of stockade made of bamboo and river mud, and it resembled a camp in most of its details. A thousand years and Canton is alluded to as a commercial city, with a special commissioner appointed by the Government to superintend foreign trade. At an early date the great pass was constructed through the Mei-hung range of mountains, and this proves to be one of the principal trade-routes in use at the present time. Another thousand years and we have the city of to-day, with its peculiar conditions, its fascinations. Surely its age commands our respect. Its people, seemingly impassive, are a subject for study, as are all the Chinese. Will the Western mind ever be able to understand this? I have a theory that behind the impassiveness there is a certain kind of responsiveness if it can be reached, but thus far I have only been able to test it upon house servants in California and those who have served us at different points in our trip. I have met persons who share my belief, their opinion being based on an acquaintance with the educated class.

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MACAO, _March 28th_: We again took the steamer _Kian Tang_ for an eighty-mile run to Macao. The scene is quite as varied and pleasing as the passage from Hong-Kong to Canton. There were numerous islands, and, on the mainland, villages were seen with occasional forts which told the story of past invasions. Rice fields and great groves of mulberry trees indicated some of the chief industries of China. Macao is situated on the western shores of the estuary of the great Pearl River, sometimes called Canton River. It was founded early in the sixteenth century by the Portuguese, who were the first nation to invade the Eastern seas in the interest of commerce, having aided the Chinese during the invasion of pirates. As a reward, in the year 1557, the rocky peninsula was given to them, the Portuguese having previously made use of it as a trading-station and a naval depot.

Macao is beautifully located high above the sea, and the approach is fine; the first impression is of a Mediterranean port, but on landing, the style of the buildings and the arrangement of the streets reminded me of Spain, while the blended coloring on the parapet and walls (which only time can give) was like Ponta Delgada of the Azores. Our hotel stood on an eminence overlooking the sea, indeed so near the sea that the moan and swish of the waves were always with us. The view from my balcony brought to mind the outlook from the old monastery at Amalfi, Italy. The whole atmosphere of the place was peaceful, and this was its chief attraction. We were there over Sunday, and the impression was deepened. Our arrival being early in the morning, we at once commenced our tour of observation, our guide seeming quite intelligent. We knew that the population of Macao was about eighty thousand, and, with the exception of a few Portuguese officials, entirely Chinese, so we were prepared for Chinese scenes, and it seemed quite consistent that we should first visit a large opium factory, this drug being one of the large exports of Macao. Here was explained the entire process of manufacture, from the poppy leaf to the final shipment; and for a further object lesson, we were taken into a room arranged for smoking opium, where sat three richly dressed Chinamen, half reclining; two had already passed into the temporary land of bliss and the third had the far-away look in his eyes that betokened semi-unconsciousness.

The fourteenth-century façade of San Paulo greatly interested us aside from its architectural merit; it stands to-day, as it has stood for generations, the sole remnant of a fine cathedral which perished in an earthquake. It is like a sentinel pointing the way to a better life. The modern Catholic cathedral had no distinctive features. The English church was unpretentious, but the Protestant cemetery adjoining contains tablets sacred to the memory of many military and naval officers and also of missionaries and their families; I remember especially the stone erected to a Rev. Mr. Morrison, one of the early missionaries to China.

Macao's chief claim to renown is its association with Camoëns, the great Portuguese poet of the sixteenth century, whose epic poem, "The Lusiads," has been translated into most known languages. This poem was written during his ten years' residence in Macao, and the garden, grotto, and bust of Camoëns are all a memorial tribute from a fellow countryman, Lorenco Marques. The garden and grotto were interesting, and the bronze bust which rests on a block whereon is engraved a poem to Macao by an English scholar, Sir John Bowring, is fine in design and execution. It is interesting to note that through "The Lusiads" Camoëns was permitted to return to Portugal to end his days, he having been banished twice because his views were too outspoken. He died at Lisbon in 1580.

The shops in Macao were of no special interest, and the street scenes lacked life and color. A long drive followed luncheon, first to the wonderful Bund, here called Praia Granda, which is semi-circular like the harbor, and the street fronting the water is lined with homes or business houses. Not one discordant note is here found. The drive is protected on the water side by a high stone coping, and it was being extended far beyond the original curve on the right-hand side, while at the left it leads out into a prolonged drive, first on the heights where are located residences and a club, then on to the country, until we reach the dividing line between a Portuguese possession and China. This is marked by an imposing arch. On the outskirts we visited several factories, one for weaving matting, another for the manufacture of every form of fire-works (a regular Fourth of July supply), and that the realism should not be missing, some small boys on the corner exploded a bunch of fire-crackers.

There were other factories, but the most interesting was one devoted to the manufacture of silk thread from cocoons. It was very large, and only women and girls were there employed, and the deft way in which they caught the silk end from the cocoon (the latter is first placed in boiling water) and wound it on reels quite won our admiration. We were then taken to rooms where large twists of silk were placed ready for shipment to England, a package not over two feet square representing an investment of many thousands of dollars. The long drive to the hotel ended an eventful day; the evening was to furnish further excitement in a visit to some fan-tan parlors for which Macao is noted; indeed, it is the Monte Carlo of the Far East, and I fear this feature attracts more tourists than the beauty of the location. Certain it is that the steamers from Hong-Kong supply a large contingent that comes hither daily, since both fan-tan and lotteries are prohibited in Hong-Kong. All the parlors are under Chinese management and are extensively patronized. Some are said to be very luxurious in their appointments, being, of course, for the wealthy patrons, who do not, however, sit on the floor where the gambling is going on, but in a little room arranged with galleries all around. Their servants sit below and receive from them an indication as to certain numbers which may win or lose as the wheel of fortune turns. There are retiring-rooms for the opium smokers and separate places for serving refreshments. Such a condition represents the aristocratic status of the game. The reverse aspect is seen in the miserable "joints," which are too dreadful even to contemplate. Here is where Macao derives the revenue to carry on its fine improvements, and, as in Bangkok, there is no intimation of a desire to reform the evil.

The Chinese have also invaded Burma, and intermarriage with the Burmese maidens is becoming general. Java is not exempt from their presence; in Siam they are very numerous; in Singapore they permeate everywhere; and in Macao they are possessors of the field. Truly their colonizing power is tremendous, and, unlike the British, they commence downward and work upward, the coolie ever being the advance guard.

On Sunday morning there was no service at the English church, and so two of our party, by invitation of the missionary, Rev. Mr. Todd, attended a Chinese service held in rooms which were far from adequate for their needs. A Sunday-school of about two hundred children was just leaving as we entered, and their interested faces made me hopeful that this early influence might save them from the fan-tan attraction. The service was in Chinese, but the reverend gentleman, not being fluent in the Chinese language, first gave a paragraph in English, and this was translated by his wife into Chinese, which made it more interesting and assuredly more understandable to us. The audience paid the closest attention, and to my surprise their faces revealed an animated response. The women were dressed in the long black coats and loose trousers seen everywhere, but their hair ornaments were of gold, set with jewels, and their earrings jade or large pearls of great value. At the close of the service a man arose and evidently made a most impassioned appeal, judging by the intonation of his voice and the spontaneous applause he received. At the close Mr. Todd told us that it was an appeal for money with which to secure a better place of meeting, and that the Chinese women in front had already given two hundred dollars toward the movement.

On Monday morning the steamer _Suitai_ carried us safely back to Hong-Kong. The harbor looked more attractive than ever, and we were glad to be again under English rule. On entering the hotel, an incident occurred that lent coloring to my "theory." In order to explain, I must go backward. On my first arrival at the hotel I had placed some photographs on my chiffonier, and among them was the one of little Katharine in the dog-cart with Omg, our American China boy, standing by her. The following morning on entering my room, I saw both of the men who were in charge of the cleaning gazing intently at the picture; turning around, one of them asked, "You know China boy?" I assented, and then told him something of the Chinamen who were employed in California. This seemed to please them both immensely. On my return from Canton and Macao, I walked down a long hall to my room and encountered several of the so-termed "boys," every one of whom smiled and greeted me. I was puzzled for a moment,--they had formerly seemed so impassive,--and then I remembered the morning's incident and inferred that all had seen the picture and had been told that I "knew China boy."

Manila was in our original itinerary, and on our first arrival in Hong-Kong we were given our choice of a trip there or of the one we had enjoyed at Canton and Macao, as the visit to Manila would have afforded us but one day in Canton without even a glimpse of Macao. We thought we had chosen wisely, but that evening, when we heard the enthusiastic report of several who had just returned from Manila, I regretted that we could not have done both, which would be my advice to all future tourists.

We had three more days in Hong-Kong. There were jinrikisha rides, shopping, and attendance at a Chinese theatre where much noise, vigorous action, and very little dramatic talent were in evidence. It was, however, interesting to watch the people, and to note their enthusiasm, with no impassiveness now, as well as the peculiar mixture of costumes. The business streets were full of life and action, and the shops contained a very tempting array of articles. One afternoon I took a jinrikisha ride on the Bund, past the great warehouses, or godowns as they are called, filled with goods or food stuffs for shipment to every port in China. Hong-Kong also aims to be a centre of supply for the shipping of the world that comes to her door, and her dockyards and shops are said to be equal to the demand. Somewhere I have seen this statement, "that if Hong-Kong could be a port of origin instead of a port of call, her commercial importance would equal that of London." The means of transportation are varied, including electric cars, carriages, jinrikishas, and sedan chairs. These may sometimes be seen following each other in succession. The streets show the cosmopolitan side of the city's life, as denizens of almost every clime assemble there, in the interest of business or of pleasure.

The militia gives a dash of color to the scene,--the officers with their uniforms, and the ever-present Tommy Atkins in his khaki suit,--besides the wealthy Chinese in robes of brocade, the first of the kind we had seen, and the coolie in short jacket and blue knee trousers, the color being a badge of servitude. The English social life of the city is also said to be very agreeable to residents, or to those who remain long enough to participate in it, and I can now understand the enthusiasm of friends who once resided there. When we left Hong-Kong, we felt that we could have lingered much longer and been happy.

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SHANGHAI: Our approach to Shanghai was through the Wusung River, as all large steamers are obliged to anchor at the bar. A launch was taken for a ride of sixteen miles. The river banks were picturesque, and little villages were succeeded by a vast amount of shipping, while factories and warehouses from an artistic standpoint spoiled a large space of the water front, the redeeming feature further on being a Public Garden, the Consulates, and a collection of fine business houses.

We arrived at Shanghai on the morning of April 6th, and at once proceeded to the Hotel Astor; then we left almost immediately for a general drive, as we were to remain only for the day. We first visited the native quarter, where the streets were narrow; but, in comparison with Canton, they seemed much less crowded. We saw the exterior of some temples and an interesting tea-house and bazar which were similar in arrangement to those in Canton, and contained about the same articles. The native town is very tame in comparison with Canton. Before luncheon we visited two large silk houses, where we examined a remarkable display of all kinds of silks and embroideries. After luncheon we proceeded to take what is called the "Bubbling Well Drive," first exploring two interesting tea-houses, one called the "Mandarin Teahouse" being very elegant in all of its appointments. It had a garden arranged in conventional Chinese style, with a rockery, miniature lake, and dwarf trees. On the ride to Bubbling Well Road, we saw many beautiful homes of modern European style, Shanghai being considered a very desirable residence for foreigners. After visiting other points of interest, in the late afternoon we returned to our steamer, having had time only for a bird's-eye view of Shanghai and a brief outline of its places of interest.

Shanghai is situated on the left bank of a stream called the Hiangpo, a tributary of the Yangtse River. Formerly there were an English settlement and an American settlement, the latter with no legal claims. These are now merged into the foreign settlement. There is also a French colony, with its numerous concessions.

The history of the city may be divided into two sections, the pre-foreign period and the foreign period. In both there has been a continuous increase of prosperity and importance, due to furnishing unusual facilities for fostering trade. In the early years Shanghai was subject to frequent raids and disturbances, and in 1543 there was a general devastation. Foreign residence was sanctioned only as a result of the first Chinese war. The signing of the treaty of Nanking threw open Shanghai and four other ports to foreign trade, the latter being Swatow, Amoy, Foochow, and Ningpoo, but these have never acquired the importance of Shanghai, which has the advantage of being at the mouth of the Yangtse River.

In 1849 a concession was granted to the French, but as late as 1850 there were only one hundred and fifty-seven foreign residents, and twenty-five foreign firms doing business. Shanghai is distinctively a commercial city, with a flat location, no background, and an artificial foreground of solid rows of business buildings. The approach to the city reveals a succession of mills, docks, wharves, engineering works, and buildings of every description, except those of artistic and pleasing appearance. The principal streets, the Bund and the Nanking Road, run at right angles to each other, and the chief thoroughfares run parallel to these two. The Bund is broad, fronting the water, and is a popular thoroughfare. The Nanking Road deserves special mention. It begins as a narrow passage-way with foreign business houses on each side; it then widens, and has Chinese shops, with, later on, the recreation ground, Town Hall, and Library. Farther on it is known as Bubbling Well Road.

Shanghai, as a residence for the European, is said to be the finest city in the East as regards modern conveniences, finer than any place east of Suez, but it is a city of contrasts. No centre can offer a wider choice for enjoyment,--the public recreation ground covering eight thousand acres. Within this enclosure is the race course, where cricket, football, hockey, tennis, golf, polo, and baseball are played; and numberless pavilions, dressing-rooms, and a swimming-bath are included in the adjacent building--all free to the public. There are in addition many clubs of a private nature, some social and others musical, and many of them owning fine buildings. Matters of education are not neglected, and the public schools even include kindergartens. There are likewise private schools, but the provisions for educating Chinese children are very inadequate, and mostly of the mission order. The Roman Catholic missions have excellent schools and well-equipped buildings. There is a fine American College, St. John's, that grants degrees. Some institutions are managed by the Chinese, the principal one being the Imperial Polytechnic College, which is housed in a fine block of buildings. There are also various organizations of an intellectual order, such as the Royal Asiatic Society, which is affiliated with a society of the same name in England; and an American Asiatic Society to further interests in the Far East. Architects, engineers, and missionaries likewise have their guilds.