After remaining two idle weeks at Shanghae, our vessel was ordered to Han-kow. This coincided exactly with my wishes, for, as we should pass Nankin, and possibly communicate with its garrison, it would be a good and early opportunity for me to become acquainted with the position of affairs, and the best and easiest method of fulfilling the object of my commission from the Chung-wang. Accordingly, with a limited cargo, and a good supply of coals, we weighed anchor again, and started upon our voyage up the great river, "the Son of the Sea."

We had but a rough time of it at first, for after leaving the mouth of the river—so wide that, but for the large island of Tsung-Ming in the centre, land is not visible from either side—we only reached the Lang-shan crossing, the most difficult navigation of the river, at night. It therefore became necessary to anchor, and a gale coming on from seaward, what with its fury, and the strength of a four-knot flood tide, we passed a remarkably unpleasant night; and, after continual apprehension of parting our cables and drifting ashore, found in the morning that we had dragged our anchors nearly a mile.

The banks of the river about its embouchure are bordered by highly-cultivated fields, in some parts covered with low wooded land. The banks are increased and elevated under a regular system, the peculiar formation of the overhanging trees giving a pleasing and verdant aspect to the country. The numerous sand-banks about the Lang-shan hills on the north bank, and the town and hills of Fu-shan on the south, render that part of the navigation of the river (known as the Lang-shan Crossing, the channel taking a sharp turn towards the Lang-shan hills) particularly dangerous. Several fine vessels have been lost, and one, the Kate, a new steam-ship, became a total wreck there while engaged upon her first voyage. She ran ashore, and in a moment the immense strength of the tide capsized her, when, sliding off the sand-bank, she sank in deep water, many of the crew and passengers losing their lives, while the whole valuable cargo, including a large amount of specie, went to the bottom.

The dangers of the deep, or rather the shallow, are not the only perils of this part, for it is infested with pirates and robbers of every description. Sometimes they are rebels, sometimes fishermen, and sometimes large piratical vessels from the coast; but more frequently still they are Imperialist war-junks, whose crews, though consisting of government troops and sailors, are pillagers of the most ruthless description. At the time I made my first voyage up the Yang-tze-kiang, piracy, and murder of the crews, of the smaller European vessels engaged in the river trade, were of frequent occurrence. In fact, a ship scarcely ever made a voyage without being attacked.

The river scenery from Lang-shan to the city of Chin-kiang (115 miles), the first of the river treaty ports, for the greater part is flat, the surrounding country being of a low alluvial soil. It is, however, of a much more attractive description than might be supposed. The cultivated parts are embedded amongst luxuriant foliage, and the infinite variety of the smaller species of tree gives a variegated and shadowy appearance to the scene.

I have found some parts of really exquisite beauty. A thick border of trees, bushes, and bamboo seems to form a complete barrier to approach from the river, but at last a small creek appears running directly through this wall of vegetation: for some little distance this is completely shrouded and arched in by the luxuriant growth of osier and small weeping-willows; but then a break in the vista discovers, through a network of foliage, a small lake of pure limpid water, whose sides are bounded by fruit-trees and highly cultivated gardens; while a snug little homestead, enveloped in flowering creepers, and half-buried by shrubs of Asiatic beauty, peeps out from amidst the surrounding mass of forest. I have come unexpectedly upon many little nests like this; the very suddenness with which they burst upon one being of itself charming.

At Chin-kiang the current is of great velocity; and, while attempting to steam round the south end of "Silver Island," we were literally overpowered by its strength, and swept down the river; but, trying the north end, we found a little more protection, from the formation of the river bank, and managed to pass the critical point.

Silver Island is a most picturesque and exquisite spot. It rises directly from the centre of the river to a height of some 400 feet. It is completely covered, from the river's brink to its very summit, with a rich display of every variety of Chinese vegetation. One of the most important Joss-houses (Budhist temples) in the empire is situated at the foot of this island, the interior filled with images of every devil and divinity the Chinese religious calendar contains; and besides all these monstrous representations, a modelled menagerie of every kind of wild animal known to the Chinese zoographer. A goodly number of Budhist priests are attached to this place, whose time is principally devoted to the cultivation of the island (the whole of the trees, plantations, and flowers having been raised by them), and to keeping up a ceaseless beating upon several drums to soothe the great fish they believe carries the world on its back, and so prevent it wriggling and producing earthquakes; which are caused, they say, whenever the drums throughout the world are silent, and the "Joss" fish cannot hear the beat of one.

At Chin-kiang is established a corps of the foreign mercenaries of the Imperialist maritime customs, an organization patronized by the British government as a means of securing the indemnity money guaranteed in payment of the British expenses for a war undertaken to avenge the capture of the opium-smuggler Arrow, and apparently to facilitate the opium trade in general.

Upon an island a few miles above Chin-kiang I found some capital deer-shooting. I brought down several, and found them of the hog-deer species, with large tusks. Great flocks of wild duck and teal were plentiful all over the river, and our guns kept the table well supplied.

Some eighteen miles above Chin-kiang we came to a great salt mart, a large village on the north bank, named E-ching. On the opposite side of the river we observed a considerable body of Ti-pings marching in the direction of Chin-kiang, which city was already invested. Although many hills in the neighbourhood of Chin-kiang were occupied by the Ti-pings, I was unable to communicate with them, our stay at that place being so short. E-ching is the emporium for the salt trade with the interior. Here the large junks from the coast discharge their cargoes, which are then stored ashore, and when disposed of to merchants from the distant provinces, re-shipped in river junks, and carried up the Yang-tze.

The salt trade is a government monopoly, from which they reap enormous profits; and if the British government had made war upon China for the purpose of establishing a trade in that article, and not in opium, they would, instead of destroying and demoralizing them, have conferred a vast benefit upon the Chinese, and benefited themselves.

Salt at E-ching, upon an average, is of the same price as the common rice (the staple article of food in China), seldom selling for less than three taels (one pound sterling) per picul (130 pounds weight). A few hundred miles farther up the river, though of the commonest and dirtiest sea description, it is frequently sold at more than double that price. Of course, where an article of such immense and important consumption is declared contraband, and monopolized by the government, a large amount of smuggling exists. Until the Yang-tze-kiang was opened to foreign trade, little, if any, smuggling was effected upon its waters; but upon the advent of Europeans, many of them made large profits by secretly conveying salt, even sometimes in their steam-ships, while numberless sailing craft—usually the semi-European, semi-Chinese lorchas—were solely occupied in this illegal traffic.

Soon after passing E-ching we came upon the Ti-pings at a place in the vicinity of Nin-gan-shan, a village some short distance inland, formed by a sharp bend of the river to the northwards. This elbow they had just fortified with a rather heavy, formidable-looking battery. The guns, however, were very inferior, being of the usual clumsy Chinese make and fitting. The river at this point was considerably reduced in width, being little more than half a mile across, and the south bank being formed of cliffs, some two hundred feet high, and being also in the hands of the Ti-pings, rendered the position highly favourable. From this point both sides of the river were in Ti-ping possession; therefore, whenever we required to stop we could do so, and land with perfect safety and immunity from insult.

Above Chin-kiang the country gradually assumes a more massive and imposing formation. High ranges of mountains are visible inland, and in some places descend even to the river's edge; while generally the country becomes of a more undulating, diversified appearance. In the neighbourhood of Nin-gan-shan the hilly part of the soil presents strong indication of auriferous qualities. I afterwards went over the spot with an old Californian miner, who declared the place was full of gold; but, unfortunately, we had no time to try it.

At Nankin I remained but a short time, barely sufficient to obtain the necessary permit from H.M.S. Centaur, stationed there to represent the British interests at the Ti-ping capital. The Centaurs seemed on good terms with the Ti-pings, for their ship was crowded with them. Several boats put off from the shore with provisions for sale, and one official came on board with a request for us to remain and trade. This was impossible, for though we much wished it, and though the foreign merchants were entirely dependent upon the Ti-pings for silk, and a great proportion of tea, yet the British government in its Elgin treaty (June 1858, by articles IX. and X.), had completely placed a veto upon trade with them; though afterwards they asserted that the Ti-pings would not trade. Of course, had we attempted to trade as the Ti-pings desired, we should have been seized and prevented by H.M.'s representative on board the Centaur, for breaking the treaty with the Manchoo emperor of China.

After purchasing a few fowls and some eggs, we proceeded on our voyage to Han-kow.

Some forty miles above Nankin we passed between the East and West Pillars, two immense masses of rock nearly a thousand feet high, and projecting, with a sheer descent, some little distance into the river. Both were in the possession of the Ti-pings. The summits were fortified, and at the foot of each strong batteries were erected. These two giant sentinels are termed by the Chinese the gates of the upper river; beyond them the flood tide ceases to be perceptible.

When off the city of Tu-ngliu some 380 miles from the mouth of the river, we were compelled to seek a sheltered anchorage, and to remain there several days through stress of weather. Even at such a considerable distance inland, the storms are sometimes so violent, and the waves of the river so disturbed, that smaller vessels are unable to brave their fury; the swiftness of the current adding considerably to the danger.

The sheltered nook we sought already contained a weather-bound vessel. Our fellow-captive proved to be an English schooner upon a trading cruise about the river. She was manned by Chinese sailors, but the owners and another European were in charge. The three days we remained at anchor passed pleasantly enough, our position being perfectly sheltered, and the boisterous state of the river affecting us but little; while each day we visited the schooner's people, or they came to us.

I made several shooting trips ashore with our companions, and we always returned well rewarded for our trouble, the place literally swarming with pheasants. The country was mostly of a low hilly formation, and being uncultivated, the hills, full of low shrubs and gorse, made a capital cover. We shot pheasants even in the farm-yards of the few houses about, and the inhabitants told us we might catch them at night roosting all round their dwellings. My companions from the schooner, who had been in California and Australia, declared the hills about Tu-ngliu contained gold; they also stated the whole river was full of it, and showed me some large specimens they had washed at a place named Hen Point, some twenty miles below the city of Ngan-king.

We fully intended to test the Tu-ngliu soil, but the weather clearing rendered necessary our immediate departure.

Some miles before reaching the treaty port of Kew-kiang, we passed a remarkable rock termed the Little Orphan. Several hundred yards in circumference at the base, at the distance of thirty fathoms from the north bank of the river it rises perpendicularly about four or five hundred feet. The summit is crowned by Budhist temples and idols, the only communication being by means of a stair cut in the sides of the rock by the priests. When passing this singular place once afterwards, my Chinese crew informed me no European could ascend the rock and live, it being protected by some Chinese demon, or genii, peculiarly averse to "foreign devils."

A few hours before arriving at Kew-kiang we passed the entrance to the Poyang Lake, a channel considerably broader than the river itself. The clear transparent waters of the lake afforded a pleasing contrast to the thick and muddy current of the river, and we steamed about a mile into it, for the purpose of obtaining a good supply and filling all our available casks. The appearance of this lake is magnificent in the extreme. Lost in the far distance, its limpid surface is surrounded by tall impending cliffs, in some places terminating abruptly at the margin of the water, while in others the intervening space is filled up with a most luxuriant growth of under-wood, overshadowed by the bending branches of gnarled and giant trees. The numerous valleys formed by the hills contain the summer resting-places of many of the Chinese nobility, whose handsome palaces fill every appropriate situation. The cloud-enveloped summits of one high range of mountains on the western shore, are crowned with eternal snow, presenting a most fantastic appearance, and affording many a wild and weird theme to Chinese romancers.

Kew-kiang we found in the direst state of confusion. The Imperialist troops had declared their determination to massacre the hated "Yang-quitzo," or drive him off their soil; and all the European residents were blockaded in their quarter. An English gunboat, and one of the large merchant steamers, were lying off the concession, prepared to render their assistance and protection, and when we arrived, at the request of the consul—who expected his consulate would be attacked again that night,—we moored in a position where our guns would prove effective in case of danger. The night, however, passed off pretty quietly, and the braves only made a further demonstration by smashing the few remaining panes of glass they had left whole upon a former assault. A day or two previously they had made a grand attack upon the settlement, destroyed several new buildings of the merchants, and very nearly demolished the British Consulate; but when the residents, in self-defence, were compelled to shoot a few of them, they retreated for the time. The mandarins, as at all the river ports, pretended they could not control their soldiers; whereas, they deliberately set them on, to try and prevent the settling of the Europeans, and the fulfilment of the treaty.

Some of the river scenery between Kew-kiang and Han-kow is wild, and really sublime in its grandeur. In many places huge masses of mountain rise steeply out of the channel to more than a thousand feet. At one part an immense cliff, named Ke-tow (Cock's Head), overhangs the stream, its base washed by the waves; while, moving under its shadow, innumerable flocks of shag, startled by the passing vessel, rose from their nests in the time-worn crevices, and eddying round and round overhead, produced a loud rushing noise from their myriads of wings, while the shrill discordant cries they uttered, increased by the singular note of the great "Bramley kites," reverberated with a thousand echoes from the perforated and honeycombed face of perpendicular rock. If a musket be fired near Ke-tow, the very air becomes blackened by an immense multitude of birds issuing from the cliff, while the noise of their cries is perfectly deafening. Their number is so prodigious that one might fairly suppose all the birds in China were congregated together at this place.

A little further on, another magnificent view of the river is found, where, between high impending mountains, at Pwan-pien-shan (the Split Hill) it is darkly imprisoned. The hills in this neighbourhood are covered with wild tea, and numerous limestone quarries are burrowed along their sides. Wherever the mountains retreat from the river the intervening country is profusely cultivated, and the sloping sides of the hills, covered with a rich and varied semi-tropical foliage, sweep down to the low land. The distant pagodas, marking with their carved and many-storied, time-worn, monumental sculpture, the site of some town or anciently celebrated locality—the occasional village, partly hidden in some half-sequestered spot—the curious but ingenious apparatus of the fisherman on the river's brink, with his reed hut here and there peeping through the rushes of the bank—the peasants toiling and irrigating the paddy-fields—the bright Eastern sun, and clear sapphire sky, above the changeful bosom of the "Son of the Sea," now rushing between massive rocky walls, then bursting into lake-like fulness, studded at intervals with a low and feathery reed-topped or cultivated rice-waving island—and the waters, tipped with the snowy wings of the passing vessels—all these are objects which produce a landscape surpassingly beautiful. China has been termed "a vast and fertile plain;" but, I believe, a trip up the Yang-tze will show as diversified and grand a scenery as almost any part of the world.

But then comes a dark side of nature, for this is truly a land where "all save the spirit of man is divine." Throughout all these beauties of country one must tread with care, for it is a land of enemies; all through the Yang-tze's course we experienced nothing but aggravating annoyance and insult from the Imperialists; wherever they were, landing became not only disagreeable, but dangerous. This was a drawback of serious importance, but one which would have ceased to exist were it not for the policy of the British government, which, by preventing the success of the friendly Ti-pings, and strengthening the Imperialists, has perpetuated the evil.

In order to avoid the strength of the tide, we were obliged to keep close in to the bank, while at the same time we kept a stand of muskets and fowling-pieces well loaded to check our dastardly aggressors.

Although Kew-kiang was bad enough, at Han-kow we found confusion worse confounded. It was simply impossible to pass through the streets except in parties of four or five, well armed. The British consul, Mr. Gingall, had gone out with some of the petty local authorities to mark a ground for the consulate and British concession, but with his marine guard received such a heavy stoning from the braves and populace, that they were compelled to beat a speedy retreat. A placard had been posted by the braves, threatening to massacre all the European residents upon a certain date; this was succeeded by an official proclamation from the Chinese governor, calling upon the soldiers to remain quiet, because the "foreign devils" were to be "hired and used" to fight the Ti-ping rebels, after which his excellency would employ his braves to drive those "barbarians" out of China. At the time, I paid but little attention to this, looking upon it as a piece of the usual Chinese bravado; recent events, however, have led me to think otherwise. One part of the proclamation has been fulfilled, it remains to be seen whether the other will succeed.

While passing through a public street one evening, a brave made a spring at me from a narrow side alley; fortunately, I carried a coat on my arm, and throwing this up, received the blow of his short sword without injury. I was of course armed, and before my assailant could repeat the blow, his arm was arrested by a Colt's revolver ball. Several braves were collecting, but when they saw the fate of their leader, and found me armed, they "skedaddled" pretty sharply.

Some Europeans did not escape so easily, but were brutally murdered. Nearly a year later affairs were but little improved, for a Mr. Little, of Dent & Co.'s, was severely maltreated without having given the slightest provocation; and several of the firm's junks were seized and carried off by the braves. This was avenged by H.M. gunboat Havoc seizing and burning the gunboat whose crew had beaten Mr. Little. The Chinese officials, with their usual policy of exciting the people against Europeans, posted proclamations, and gave out as a fact, that the English had fastened all the braves they caught to the gunboat, and burnt them alive. I explored the country in every direction, within a radius of twenty-five miles around Han-kow, upon shooting excursions, and I invariably found, that wherever the natives were distant from Imperial troops, or officials, they were kind and courteous to Europeans. I entered numerous villages to rest and obtain refreshment, and at many received polite and dignified invitations from some of the people to enter their dwellings. I must say, the Chinese are one of the most polite and well-behaved people I have ever met. Although bursting with curiosity to ascertain my country and business, I never found them guilty of the slightest rudeness, or annoying inquisitiveness; upon the contrary, they would wait until their etiquette of presenting tea, etc., had been observed, and then, pretending to be unconcerned, commence their inquiries indirectly. With all this, I could not fail to notice the half-dubious, half-disliking style of their manner;—the universal result of their government's misrepresentation, and the stringent orders which they received to treat Europeans as barbarians unworthy of civilized (Chinese) treatment or consideration. Can we not remember the sort of treatment foreigners received till lately in China, upon the following Manchoo maxim of intercourse with Europeans?

It was on this principle that all the benefits of Chinese law were denied Europeans; so that, even in cases of accidental homicide, they were required to be delivered up, not for trial, but execution.

Sir John Davis, formerly governor of Hong-Kong, wrote:—

Although at the present time British subjects are not delivered up to be executed by Manchoos, and although Europeans are not defamed and attacked so openly as was the case previous to the late wars, the government is every bit as industriously maligning them to its subjects, and striving all in its power to prevent free trade or intercourse. Why are the Manchoos so inveterately embittered against foreigners? is the natural question. Certainly not because they are unable to appreciate the benefit of trade; they love their own interests too well to be averse to the only remaining prop to their rule—trade with foreigners, and consequent help to crush the rebellion. But the truth is, with unmistakeable foresight they see that the free contact of their Chinese subjects with European nations will eventually ruin them; they know their rule is hated and unrighteous, and they know that wherever the people become enlightened and improved, their murderous gripe will be torn from the throat of the nation. While liking our trade, they hate our communion! The latter they have reason to dread, though not if they can always succeed in obtaining our military aid against the effects of our intercourse, as they have done in the case of the Ti-ping rebellion.

At Han-kow I left the steamer, to take command of a new schooner belonging (nominally) to the same owners. As her interior accommodations were not quite finished, I took a small house until such time as she should be completed. While residing ashore, I suffered from an attack of fever—a complaint very prevalent amongst Europeans in China—that at one time seemed almost certain to destroy my life.

One night when convalescent, but still very weak, I was aroused by a strong smell of fire; in a moment almost, thick volumes of smoke rushed into the room, and I heard the loud crackling of burning wood close at hand. Getting from my bed, and hurrying some clothing on as quickly as possible, I got to the door of my house, and found the next one in a complete blaze, and my own just igniting. My servants no sooner opened the back door and attempted to save my property, than a crowd of braves rushed in and commenced to plunder all they could lay hands on. I was too weak to do much, but, taking a sword, endeavoured to drive them off; I followed one a few paces from the door, and thrust at his body, but was too weak to hurt him much, and the point of my weapon glanced on his ribs; the fellow did not even drop his booty, but successfully made off with all the bedding. Fortunately at this juncture assistance from some neighbouring European residents arrived, or I should have lost everything. With their help and that of the coolies, the greater part of my things were saved, but much had been carried off by the "Imps." The origin of the fire was attributable to the incendiary acts of the Imperialist soldiers, who had set fire to the adjoining house, as also to an European dwelling, out of malice, and hatred of the "foreign devils."

For the few days before taking up my quarters on board the schooner, a friend kindly accommodated me. I then engaged a Greek seaman as mate, shipped a Chinese crew, a Malay boatswain, and prepared to leave. Our voyage progressed very favourably until we reached a place a little below the treaty port Kew-kiang, where, although hitherto dropping down with the tide at the rate of three or four miles an hour, my course was abruptly arrested for several days. Between Kew-kiang and the mouth of the Poyang Lake is situated a large island, and instead of taking the usual channel, my stupid Chinese pilot preferred the other side of the island. In consequence of this, when about half-way past, stem on we went, and stuck hard and fast aground. After a tiresome day's work we managed to get afloat again in about six inches more water than the schooner was drawing, and then made fast for the night. In the morning, after sounding in every direction, and finding the only channel very shallow, and as intricate as the maze at Rosherville Gardens, I obtained a fisherman from the shore, who, for the consideration of a few strings of cash, piloted us out; our own pilot being perfectly ignorant of his duties. I have since found it a common thing for Chinamen who have spent all their lives sailing about the Yang-tze river, to be utterly unacquainted with its pilotage.

Through this affair, the vessel's rudder became injured, and we had barely cleared the island, making sail to a fresh breeze, when away it went.

It now became necessary to bring up for repairs: so picking out a creek with a village named Chang-kea-kau at its entrance, I ran the schooner into it, anchored, and sent ashore for carpenters to make a new rudder. In about a week's time, the village blacksmiths and carpenters managed to turn out a contrivance they termed a rudder; but of all the rudders I ever saw it beat them hollow. They could neither make round bolts, nor long bolts: so instead of bolting the rudder together, they fastened the first part to the rudder-post with huge square nails (they could only cut square holes in timber, having no tool to bore large round ones), and the second part to the first, and the outside piece to the second, with huge iron clamps driven on at the sides: the whole concern stuck and plastered together with lumps of iron bands and braces in every direction, in a way that none but a Chinaman could contrive.

With immense exertion of mechanics, I managed to get this monster shipped in its place, after which I was enabled to make sail and proceed.

At the city of Ta-tung, about 150 miles above Nankin, and fifty below Ngan-king, the capital of Ngan-whui province, I anchored for three days. This city is the chief salt mart up river, all the salt from E-ching coming there, previously to being distributed over the country. The scenery about Ta-tung is very fine—lightly wooded hills gradually rising, range after range, far into the interior. I took a ramble ashore with Philip, my mate, to hunt up some game; our way lay over ridges of low hills covered with a forest of dwarf firs, none over six feet high, mingled with specimens of the smallest of all small trees, the dwarf oak. This Lilliputian forest was succeeded by a tangled undergrowth, and fine plantation, which compelled us to pursue the narrow tracks leading through it. During our progress we were often startled with the loud whirr of the pheasant springing from almost under our feet, and although the high cover made it difficult to get a shot, we obtained several brace. At last we came to a more open part of the hills, where the forest was succeeded by wild flowers and shrubs, while small lakes were frequent in the valleys below us. The hills became higher and more rocky, the few trees about them being of large size,—in fact, the tallest I have seen in China. From the rocky nature of the country, and the running appearance of the chain of lakes, I fancied a large spring was somewhere in the neighbourhood, and I was right; for, after following a beautiful and gradually ascending valley some distance, we came to a cold mountain spring of the purest water I ever tasted in China. We threw ourselves upon the grass and drank the pure mountain draught to our heart's content, and, while resting ourselves, inhaled the powerful aromatic odour of the wild magnolia growing in profusion around. The magnolia is the only flower I have found in China possessing fragrance, all others, however beautiful, being without perfume. Whilst rolling on the turf we had observed some birds, apparently of the duck species, fly overhead in the direction of some tall trees through a gorge on the hills; it being the middle of summer, these birds excited our curiosity, and we determined to follow them and if possible get a shot. When we arrived at the foot of the trees, to our surprise we saw many of these duck-like birds flying in and out of nests among the branches; we shot three brace and a half, and found them to be the beautiful and delicious little wood or summer duck. When I returned on board, I instantly sent some of my crew ashore with a small cask to fill at the spring, and ever afterwards I remembered that cool water and its romantic valley.

The few villages about seemed very poor; they had continually been visited by Ti-ping or Imperialist soldiers, and this, of course, had proved disastrous to the inhabitants, for we all know what hungry disciplined troops are in an enemy's country, but few of us realize the effect of undisciplined Chinese. The houses, however, had not been destroyed, and the only mark of the Ti-pings was the remains of a large Budhist temple, each separate brick, as usual, being broken to pieces, so that nothing but heaps of rubbish remained. The people spoke very vengefully about the visits of the Imperialist troops, who, they said, had used their women shamefully, and killed several of the husbands and fathers who had attempted to defend them. The Ti-pings, they informed me, had treated them well, and had only made them contribute provisions for the army; one soldier having used violence to a girl, had been decapitated, and they showed me the place where his head had been exposed. They also spoke very kindly of one leader of the Ti-pings, the Ying-wang, who had allowed nothing to be taken from them without payment for it.

During my voyage in the schooner, I became acquainted with the Chinese game of chess, which, although resembling that of Europe in a few pieces, and the object of the game, is in every other particular totally different. I had several Chinese on board, passengers to Shanghae, and they taught me how to play.

The board, instead of being divided into black and white squares, as with us, is of one colour—generally black—and divided by lines on which the pieces stand, and move as shown in the following rules and annexed diagram:—