days, it was gratifying to find that there was the same distinctive character about the Society, and the men who represent it now, as of old. There was no cause for doubt or uncertainty; nothing which could prompt the painful thought-"the voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau."

On the contrary, there was the same clear ring of distinctive Protestant evangelical principle which has been the unvarying key-note of our Society from its commencement; and I returned home fully satisfied that the Committee and the Secretaries at head-quarters, who administer its affairs, as well as the Association Secretaries, who permeate the land, were a body of men sound as ever, and determined to uphold the great principles on which our Society was originally founded-those precious doctrines of grace by which alone a sinner can be saved, whether that sinner be a heathen on the banks of the Ganges, or a Christian on the banks of the Thames.

The Church Missionary Society still continues to send forth to the heathen the same pure unadulterated stream of Divine truth, by the agency of its Missionaries, now as of old; and hence to enjoy the same blessing from on high, now as ever; whilst it still forms the rallyingpoint at home for all those in every part of our land, who have been enlightened by the Spirit of God to know, understand, and love the distinctive truths of the Gospel of the grace of God.

It is thus a great source of blessing and strength to us at home, as well as to the heathen abroad; and in a day of rebuke and blasphemy like the present, in a day of fickleness and change, in a day of apostacy and treachery like that in which our lot is cast, it gives us cause for infinite thankfulness that God should have so marvellously preserved this great Society pure from surrounding errors; and this gives it an additional claim upon our sympathies and liberal support. Very anxious am I, therefore, that the congregation of St. Nicholas', the embodiment and representatives of the evangelism of this city, should show by their large liberality, towards this Society especially, that they can discern between things that differ, that they have a warm attachment to the principles of evangelical truth upheld by the Church Missionary Society, and that they have hearts able to respond to such an appeal as I now make, and hence are willing to deny themselves for Christ's sake, determined, as far as in them lies, to send a pure Gospel, and nothing else, to the benighted nations of the world.

I am also confident that our collection this day will not suffer because I have been unable to secure, as usual, the advocacy of some distinguished stranger, and we are obliged to plead the cause ourselves.

If such inferior motives were capable of influencing your contributions, I should indeed set little store by them; but I am persuaded, brethren, better things of you, and believe that you will give this day according to your ability; yea, as the Apostle says of the Macedonian churches, beyond your power, to help on a cause, the characteristic merit and claims of which you recognise, understand, and love.]

CHINESE LIFE.

THE streets of a Chinese city present to the eye of a foreigner many strange figures of persons, in many curious ways endeavouring to eke out a livelihood. It must be remembered that the population of China is

F

A CHINESE BURNING PAPER TO APPEASE THE SPIRITS OF HIS ANCESTORS.

May, 1867.

crowded very much towards the sea-board, so that while the western provinces have a moderate porportion of inhabitants, the eastern provinces, at least in the cities, are greatly thronged, and the poorer Chinese are obliged to bring their wits into play, and devise many singular occupations by which to get their daily bread.

For instance, there is the collector of refuse hair. He gathers the hair which the hair-dresser makes up into butterflies' wings of glossy hair which ornament the back of a lady's head. After the fashion of chignons, they are worn by women to increase the apparent bulk of the hair, and, like the same chignons, it will not do to trace the materials to the original sources from whence they come.

The hair-gatherer goes about with a light wicker basket, buying or begging all the refuse combings of the women's long black hair, and as out of these collections ornaments are made for female heads, so also the foppery of the men is ministered to by the queues which are for sale in the hairdressers' shops.

The

A collector of paper-scraps is another singular personage. Chinese have a great respect for printed or written paper, and treat with great reverence all refuse paper. Every scholar keeps in his study a waste-paper basket, which, hung against the wall, receives from time to time the scraps which have been scribbled upon. The collector makes his rounds, bearing two large and light skips, affixed to one and other end of a bamboo, which he balances on his shoulder. Being usually employed by a company of scholars, he bears on the front end of the bamboo a little flag, which states that he belongs to the "Great Literary Society," and, as he goes along, he cries King sih sze tsze, that is, "Revere and spare the printed paper." So soon as this cry is heard, the scholar sends his servant to the door, and the contents of the studybasket are emptied into the collector's skip.

Again, the market-gardener may be seen going along, on the elastic bamboo carrying his stands, on which he has disposed for sale the plants which he has reared in his little bit of nursery-ground.

Gardens, in the true sense, are rare things in Chinese cities. In the city of Ningpo, "whose walls are five miles in circumference, and whose population numbers half a million of inhabitants, there are only two gardens which are ever thought worthy of a visit from foreigners. They belong to the Kang and the Le families, respectively. The larger and better of these consists of a piece of ground about ninety feet long by thirty feet wide, most ingeniously fitted up with rock-work and a tiny pool of water, to resemble mountain scenery in miniature.

Gardens such as we have, must not be looked for in Chinese cities.. The poorer classes content themselves with a "few pots of flowers in the open court; and amongst the gentry a small yard at the side or back of the building displays some dwarfed fir, uo bigger than a doll's Christmas tree; some gnarled camphor, rising no higher than a goodsized cauliflower, and a few carefully-cultivated plants, whose flowers, by a peculiar mode of cultivation, are forced into gigantic size." The nursery gardens "merely contain rows of pots filled with the plants which. are coming into flower."

These dwarfed trees, of which the Chinese are so fond, are they not

emblems of the Chinese mind? How different would its growth be, brought under the elevating influences of Christianity!

It is a happy thought, that in the city of Ningpo there is a group of native Christians, some from amongst whom are very zealously engaged in spreading abroad, amongst their conntrymen, the truths of the Gospel, and that thus their number is increasing from year to year. May the little one become a thousand!

Our picture represents one of these people burning paper money to propi tiate the spirits of his ancestors.

BASHONTO.

(Continued from page 36.)

This description of Hindu life was begun in our March number. It should have been continued in the next. Now we are afraid lest our readers forget the particulars respecting Rajkoomar's family. We must refer them to that number, where they will find that they have been already introduced to Rajkoomar himself, his wife, Bamashoondari, and their eldest son.

The second child of Rajkoomar and Bamashoondari was Prionath, about eight years old, a merry laughing boy.

Kamini, the youngest, a child of four, was a very sweet little girl. Very pretty did she look with her hair nicely tied up, and her tiny sari properly arranged.

Bamashoondari had three children alive, but she had lost four others when infants. This is the case with all Hindu women; indeed, generally speaking, for one they have alive, two are among the dead.

Jodoonath and his wife, Prosonno, come next. Jodoonath was a younger brother of the pundit. He was a young man, about thirty, without the abilities of his elder brother, yet, like him, quite a gentleman. He had a situation in one of the offices in Calcutta, and earned eighty rupees monthly. Prosonno was a young woman of twenty. She was very good-tempered, and very affectionate in disposition, and little Kamini seemed to love her quite as much as she did her mother.

The next member of the family was Boshonto. She was the widow of a brother younger than Jodoonath. She was only eighteen, but a magnificent woman. Her husband had died three months before, and her face looked very sad oftentimes.

The aunt, Thakoormoni, belonged to the old school. She was a very genial old lady, tall, dark, with bright eyes and grey hair. She always had a pleasant word for every one: the whole family venerated her, and her influence on the whole was good. The children were very much loved by her, indeed she indulged them too much. She was considered a very holy woman. She had been on pilgrimage to Juggernath, to Gya, to Kashi, to Brindabun. She ate only once a day, and much of her time was spent in her devotions. But the house was all the brighter for her presence, and the whole parah too. An old widow, she was able to go about among the neighbours; and whenever any sickness occurred, the pundit's aunt was sent for, and by her knowledge of many native medicines, which are really excellent, she was often able to give relief. In

the quarrels, too, she was often called in to arbitrate, and her decisions, sensible as they were always, were generally accepted.

The servant was a distant relative of the family, a Brahmini, and a widow. She cooked for them, brought their water, went to the bazaar and made their purchases, and did whatever else was wanted in and about the house. She was kindly treated, and provided with all she required in the way of food and clothing, in return for her services. And not unfrequently would the pundit tell his wife to give poor Heṛani a four anna bit, (sixpence) that she might have a few pice to spend on any thing she liked.

Such were the members of the family of Rajkoomar Bhattacharjya. Now for the house itself. It was a large upper-roomed pucca house, built in the shape of a double quadrangle. Entering by a doorway from the south, you might see on the right hand the thakoorbari, a large room, with a niche in the wall, and an ugly idol in the niche. The other three sides had a verandah running all round, and small rooms opening into the verandah. Opposite the doorway, on the upper story, were latticed windows, through which the women might look down into the courtyard at any festivities which might be going on. On the left side a flight of steps led up to the boitakhana, a large room extending along the whole of one side of the house, the side over the doorway. A dark passage beyond the steps led into the second court, and gave access to the women's dominions. Here there were upper rooms on only two sides of the square; the other two afforded terraces for walking upon in the evenings. Down below were the pakshala or kitchen, the cow-house, and two or three rooms which were used chiefly for stores. Herani had one where she kept her few possessions. A back door gave access to an enclosed tank, surrounded by a few flowering plants. The whole house was exceedingly comfortable, according to native ideas of comfort.

When the pundit and his brother were at home, much of their time was spent in the boitakhana, sleeping, or talking with their neighbours. This room was fitted up with matrasses and cushions, upon which they reclined. A few pictures hung upon the walls-old, worthless pictures, picked up in the curiosity shops which abound in Calcutta. A chandelier, which had seen its best days, hung from the roof, and was lighted up on grand occasions. The women very rarely penetrated into this outer court. Old Thakoormoni sometimes came and talked to her nephews, but generally even she kept within the inner court. The mornings were spent by the women in bathing, attending to their household affairs, helping Herani in cooking, and eating their mid-day meal. About one or two o'clock all the business was over for a while. Then they slept, or looked over their jewels, and the young women oiled and tied up their long tresses with numberless strings called dori, twisted by them out of their own fallen locks. About six o'clock the preparations for the evening meal commenced. By eight or nine o'clock it was cooked and eaten; and then on clear bright nights the women would sit on the terrace, and sometimes some of the neighbours, from the parah close by, would come in; and gossip, the delight of women, would be retailed in abundance, diversified now and then by a fairy tale. As sleep overcame them, one after another would