Of the Ginseng there are three qualities sold in the Chinese drug-stores. One leang or ounce of the best (the largest and finest) costs 50 dollars, of the medium quality five dollars, and of the most inferior quality one dollar. The Ginseng root is also found in Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Canada, and is thence exported to China, but the Chinese prefer that of their native forests, even though these are very much dearer, and there is hardly any difference to remark between
them. As the plant is only found in the wild state, and obstinately resists all attempts to cultivate it, its collection among the forests of North America is attended with great hardship and expense, and whereas in former years the profit realized on this article of commerce by English and American merchantmen amounted to from 500 to 600 per cent., it is now reduced to a very moderate proportion.
A more general subject of interest is presented by the shops where is sold the porcelain-ware, the manufacture of which dates from a very remote period of Chinese history, and was already a flourishing trade at the commencement of our historic epoch. Indeed we may reasonably assume, notwithstanding the beautiful specimens of the art which from time to time are brought to light, that this special branch of industry is at present in a state of decline, while of many kinds of porcelain manufacture no examples can now be shown, as the secret of their manipulation has perished. What usually interests Europeans in these shops is what is known as "crackle" porcelain,[138] the upper surface of which everywhere presents broken lines, so that the entire vessel appears as though it consisted of numbers of small pieces cemented to each other, the whole having very much the appearance of Mosaic. But this description also is no longer manufactured of the first quality in the present day. Antique porcelain is of extraordinary value, but specimens of modern manufacture,
such as small figures, mannikins, &c., are very cheap, and are much the same as those imported to Europe.
One marked partiality of the Chinese is their fondness for suspending grasshoppers in small elegant baskets of bamboo strips, or twisted wire, in which, whatever the season or the weather, these little captives keep up a constant pleasant chirping. This custom is of great antiquity, and while one even now finds among the populace of the present day some of these chirpers thus carefully tended, there once was a time when the grasshopper was the object of universal adoration, and enjoyed all the honours of Fashion. They were indebted for this singular good fortune, according to the abbé Grosier,[139] to a poor scholar under the Thang dynasty, in the 7th century of our era, who to relieve his poverty fell upon the singular expedient of trading in these insects. He went into the country, selected the most beautiful insects he could find, constructed elegant little cages for them, and returning to the city offered them for sale in the most frequented streets of Tschang-gan. The idea was novel, and the wealthy upper classes speedily found a charm in having the music of the fields thus transplanted into their houses. The Empress, the Queens, the ladies of the Palace, in a word, every one was eager to possess these songsters of the meadow. There was actually an enactment passed for the supply of the Imperial Palace with the requisite number of these insects. The fashion rose to a perfect mania—the little Zirperu was encountered
at every corner—it was taken out whenever a call was paid—the whole city resounded with its shrill cry. The fine arts, and every branch of industry, felt its impulse. There was no textile fabric, no embroidery, no design, no vessel, on which it did not conspicuously figure. It was represented in metal and in jewellery, and no handsome lady thought her toilette complete, unless she sported a grasshopper among her hair. This mania has died out in China, but the buzz of the insect still continues to furnish matter of amusement for the populace and children of all classes, and they are still caught in large quantities, and exposed for sale in the streets. Singular to say, all ancient and modern writers, if we are to judge by their delineations, describe these insects as cicadæ, whereas it was shown and proved by the researches of one of the zoologists of the Expedition, that the insect is no cicada, but a species of grasshopper (Decticus), which, so far as appears, has never hitherto been described. Very probably the circumstance that the noise made by each of these insects is very similar, gave circulation to this error of upwards of a thousand years' standing, whence people would without further examination take it for granted that the insect confined in the cage belonged to that species whose place in natural history, and whose special musical qualifications, mankind had so long been familiar with. One of these grasshoppers was kept for months in such a cage on board our ship, and chirped away lustily, fair weather or foul, even when confined in a
close cupboard. On the other hand, some cicadæ, with which similar experiments were made, lived only two or three days in captivity. None sang, unless when teased, or when a number more were introduced into the vessel, thereby incommoding them, and none took nourishment. It was obvious that the cicadæ possessed none of those characteristics which would enable them to be kept in captivity as pets, whereas, on the other hand, the grasshoppers and crickets were especially adapted for that purpose.
We were anxious to visit a variety of other interesting places, ere quitting the sultry, gloomy Chinese city on our return to the more genial European quarter. But evening was already setting in, and after sunset the gates of the city are closed, and neither Chinese nor European can after that hour obtain access to the city. Whoever is belated must find shelter for the night in the house of some hospitable friend, until with the first break of morning the gates are re-opened, communication is restored with the foreign quarter, and the previous day's scene of bustle is renewed.
The next object which excited our interest was a Chinese school. Ascending a wooden staircase, we enter a room, quite empty but for a table and stools, in which a haggard woe-begone Chinese, with long tail and rod in hand, is walking to and fro, while at a table some dozen of boys of from eight to twelve are engaged in reading. Their loud accents may be heard down in the street outside. The cost of the
schools for the people is chiefly defrayed by voluntary subscriptions, foundations, &c. &c. The children of the middle classes pay for nine months' instruction, three Spanish dollars. Many teachers have more than a hundred scholars, and thus earn about 1000 dollars per annum. These, it is true, are exceptions, but teaching as a profession seems on the whole to be fully better remunerated in China than in European countries. There it is in much higher estimation, and receives better recompense. The wealthy Chinese usually engage private tutors for their children, who, as among ourselves, usually form part of the family. Elementary education is almost universal throughout China. There are but few Chinese who are not at least able to read and write. One very gratifying instance of the prevailing religious toleration, well worthy of example in the Christian states of Europe, is the presence of Protestant and Catholic places of worship in the midst of Buddhist temples, and other edifices dedicated to heathen worship. The American Episcopal church, erected in 1850, at the expense of a wealthy merchant and ship-owner of Boston named Appleton, at a cost of 6000 dollars, already numbers eighty converts. It is an extremely simple yet neat-looking place of worship, quite in the style of the chapels in the Western portion of the American Union, and has in connection with it a school numbering about forty native scholars. Every Sunday morning at ten, a sermon is preached, which is attended by most of the foreign community. Far grander and more imposing in plan and fittings