Next we visited a branch of the French Roman Catholic Mission, which, under the able leadership of Père Favier, has done much good work. The school with its day scholar's enclosure, lies under the beautiful Roman Catholic Church, with its twin pinnacles and splendid interior, the altar being inlaid with cloisonné. The organ was bought with the proceeds of the sale of a valuable carpet that came into the hands of the Fathers. The cathedral and bishop are at Peitang on the other side of the city. Since the early days of the Jesuit Fathers, the Roman Catholics have always been active in China. They claim to have 700,000 converts. Their success, in comparison with other sects, may perhaps be attributed to the fact, that their ritual and gaily decorated churches are more attractive, and in accordance with the Buddhist religion and temples; but it must also be said, that the priests go amongst the people, adopt their life, and wear Chinese clothes, including the pigtail. Aided by the nuns, they minister to the temporal wants of the population, as well as the spiritual. Also these priests, when they leave France, come out for life and receive only 100 taels, or 20l. a year, whilst the American missionaries are reputed to receive 100 taels a month, and 200 taels a year for every child. Perhaps this may account for their numerous families. The S.P.G. Branch of mission work under Bishop Scott boasts, alas! few converts in their schools, but as they are thorough, and refuse to have any suspicion of "rice Christians," as the doubtful converts are called, this can be accounted for. The London Mission does good work, but perhaps the most successful of all is the China Inland Mission, owing its existence to its north-country founder—Hudson Taylor—a man unknown to great fame, but who has done, and is doing a great work in this far-distant corner of the world.
We expected to hear a great deal about these late riots at Wuhu, or Wusueh, when we came to Peking. We had read the alarming articles in the North China Daily News of the excited state of the country, the imminent dangers hanging over the European population at the Treaty Ports, and of the arming of the British Legation here. We are almost disappointed to find a serene atmosphere of safety.
There are some who are found to attribute the pretext for the commencement of these riots to the Roman Catholic nuns, who by succouring the foundlings, especially the despised females, to educate in their convent schools, arouse the suspicion of kidnapping them for the purposes of witchcraft. The mortality being high, they are even accused of taking out the eyes of children to make an elixir of life, and of other atrocities. The same charge brought about the dreadful massacre of Tientsin in 1870. More probably, however, this is only an excuse for a rising, which is really fomented by one of those secret societies, like the Kalao Hui, which honeycomb China.
Peking is celebrated for its furs, particularly for sables. London is the great market of the world, receiving the supplies of the Hudson Bay Company and Canada, but whenever an emperor or prince or great noble in Russia requires a fur, it is to Peking that they send. The sables are wonderfully cheap, only costing from 6 to 8 dollars each, but, owing to a difference of treatment in smoking, they are not so dark as those we call Russian sables. They have also a good many white hairs. There are squirrel skins of soft, brown fur, thousands being sewn together to form a single coat. Then there are black and white astrakans, beaver, and otter, and that lovely, silky white fur, the wool of the Tibet sheep. We were offered a mandarin's sable robe, perhaps a booty from the looting of the Summer Palace, for 300 dollars, and I think we shall always regret that we did not invest in it as an heirloom.
We came out of the Legation Hall one morning, to find a picturesque sight of curio dealers squatted beside their blue bundles, or spreading their bright-coloured embroideries, under the open pagoda porches of this princely palace.
Peking is known for the antiquity and splendour of its embroideries,—the best in China; but I cannot fancy golden dragons on cerise satin grounds, or pink flowers on an ultramarine blue, nor yet all the flaming purples, crimsons and oranges (the Imperial yellow alone being beautiful), after the delicate half-tones, and pale tints of the Japanese embroideries. It is always the same in China. Everything is ugly, the colouring and designs hideous. They are grotesque and not quaint, gaudy and not brilliant. And we have visited many curio shops, only to leave them in despair. The single beautiful things are the objets de vertu in jade and crystal, tiny cups and vases, snuff bottles, carved images, all so delicately wrought, but charged for as if worth their weight in gold.
Then tiffen with Sir Robert Hart, the chief of the Imperial Maritime Customs. He has been out here for 30 years, and knows as much as any man, probably a thousand-fold more, about China. His conversation was most interesting. His position is unique, for Sir Robert collects and has absolute control over all the levies on foreign goods; and a large part of the finances of China pass through his hands.
We proceed to see the Examination Hall of the second and third degrees, that for the first being held under the Emperor's eyes.
This Examination is a remarkable feature in Chinese life. It is the ambition of every man, whatever his position or calling, to become a student, for it is the avenue to all greatness, and the means whereby all posts of honour or emolument are to be obtained.