From time immemorial wall-literature has been a feature in the life of a Chinese city surpassing in extent and variety that of any other nation, and often playing a part fraught with much danger to the community at large. Generally speaking, the literature of the walls covers pretty much the same ground as an ordinary English newspaper, from the “agony” column downwards. For, mixed up with notices of lost property, consisting sometimes of human beings, and advertisements of all kinds of articles of trade, such as one would naturally look for in the handbill literature of any city, there are to be found announcements of new and startling remedies for various diseases or of infallible pills for the cure of depraved opium-smokers, long lists of the names of subscribers to some coming festival or to the pious restoration of a local temple, sermons without end directed against the abuse of written paper, and now and then against female infanticide, or Cumming-like warnings of an approaching millennium, at which the wicked will receive the reward of their crimes according to the horrible arrangements of the Buddhist-Taoist purgatory. Occasionally an objectionable person will be advised through an anonymous placard to desist from a course which is pointed out as offensive, and similarly, but more rarely, the action of an official will be sometimes severely criticised or condemned. Official proclamations on public business can hardly be classed as wall literature, except perhaps when, as is not uncommon, they are written in doggerel verse, with a view to appealing more directly to the illiterate reader. The following proclamation establishing a registry office for boats at Tientsin will give an idea of these queer documents, the only parallel to which in the West might be found in the famous lines issued by the Board of Trade for the use of sea-captains:—

“Green to green, and red to red,
Perfect safety, go ahead,” &c.

The object of this registry office was ostensibly to save the poor boatman from being unfairly dealt with when impressed at nominal wages for Government service, but really to enable the officials to know exactly where to lay their hands on boats when required:—

“A busy town is Tientsin,
A land and water thoroughfare;
Traders, as thick as clouds, flock in;
Masts rise in forests everywhere.

“The official’s chair, the runner’s cap,
Flit past like falling rain or snow.
And, musing on the boatman’s hap,
His doubtful shares of weal and woe,

“I note the vagabonds who live
On squeezes from his hard-earned due;
And, boatmen, for your sakes I give
A public register to you.

“Go straightway there, your names inscribe
And on the books a record raise;
None then dare claim the wicked bribe,
Or waste your time in long delays.

“The services your country claims
Shall be performed in turn by all
The muster of the boatmen’s names
Be published on the Yamên wall.

“Once your official business done,
Work for yourselves as best you can;
Let out your boats to any one;
I’ll give a pass to every man.