and smoke were in copper “ tchens,” or “cash” of the value
of one twelfth of a penny each, which certainly indicated
very moderate charges. On one occasion I had to pay
some small sum in a shop at Canton, and handed a dollar
for change, when to my surprise John Chinaman pulled
out a pair of pincers, broke off a few chips, carefully
weighed them, and returned the remainder to me
neatly wrapped up in paper. This is their usual mode of
dealing with foreign coins, having none of their own in
either gold or silver, although they keep their accounts
in taels, equal to about five shillings and sixpence each.
Another curious institution, worthy of a paternal
Government, is that of an immense pawn-shop, established
in a tall pagoda of many storeys, where every
article deposited is placed on its proper shelf, enclosed
in paper, on which a few words are written for easy
identification.
Having seen pretty well all that was worth seeing
at Canton, and having passed under review a fair
sprinkling of Chinamen, to serve me as types of the
400 to 450 million Celestials, said to exist in that vast
empire, whose people are justly described as united in
language, in customs, in sympathies, and in superstitions,
absolutely and perfectly contented with their
present civilization as no other country is, I took my
departure for Hong-Kong. Soon after starting, and
some distance from the river, I passed the Flower
pagoda, the only object of interest before reaching the
sea. I t consists of the usual nine-storeyed tower,
octagonal, and tapering to a height of 170 feet, ending
in a pointed roof ; it has a large opening on every tier
and face, making a total of seventy-two kinds of doorways.
The entire pagoda is overgrown with creepers,
ferns, and even small trees, forming a most picturesque
object against the blue sky.
On the day after my arrival at Hong-Kong, I found
the French steamer, “ Volga,” ready to receive passengers
for Japan, so I bade farewell to China and
embarked in the afternoon of a magnificent day.
There were few fellow-travellers, but About’s Le
Fellah falling into my hands, I enjoyed a few days'
pleasant reading,—it is a clever book, and his descriptions
are very graphic. Of the Delta of Egypt he
speaks as “ Un éventail fermé 'par un bouton de
diamant qui s’appele le Caire,”—rather a happy
illustration.
On the second day we passed through the Straits of
Formosa; and on the third, somewhat to the north of
Foo-Chow, the steamer left the coast to run across to
Japan. Here the Pacific, when half way to our
destination, sadly belied its name : the Loo-choo
X