Imperial Joss.
The Imperial Joss.
This is the chief idol of the Chinese empire, and is worshipped with profound reverence by many persons, especially by the chief dignitaries. The present emperor, whose name is Taou Twang, and who is now about seventy years old, is very particular in his devotions to the Imperial Joss. This image is variously represented, but always exhibits the appearance of a very fat man, with an enormous belly,—one who is fond of good eating and good drinking, and who cares for little else.
A man’s religion is usually an index to his own character. If we may judge the higher classes of Chinese by their deity, we should suppose that, if they are not better than their gods, they are a low, coarse, and sensual people.
The Chinese temples, or Joss houses, are very magnificent; and it is said that there are, in the empire, about five hundred of these of the larger kind. When the emperor goes to worship the imperial deity, he dresses himself with the utmost magnificence, and is attended by all his officers of state, sumptuously apparelled. But while he thus displays the greatest external grandeur, he exhibits great humility and dejection, prostrating himself upon the earth, rolling himself in the dust, and speaking of himself, to the object of his adoration, in terms of the utmost abasement.
In the vicinity of Canton, there is a Joss house, which makes a magnificent appearance. It is four stories high, with a fine cupola. It has, also, numerous galleries and out-houses.
A Salt Water Scene.
In one of the recent fishing excursions in our bay, the steward of the steamer had employed, as assistant cook, a simple negro, who had “never before smelt salt water,” nor knew its peculiar properties. There were a hundred persons on board to feed, and, not having a very large supply of water on board, at the first dinner the steward took his aid severely to task for wasting the fresh water in boiling the vegetables, when the salt water, alongside, was so much better for the purpose. Poor Darky promised to do better next time; and, accordingly, on the following morning, when the bell rang for breakfast, the aforesaid hundred half-famished people rushed up to the table, and, seizing the coffee-cups, each quaffed a copious draught, when, phew! phiz! splutter! what a spitting and coughing there ensued! “Steward! cook! captain! where are you? what is the matter of the coffee?” shouted a Babel of vehement voices. The steward appeared, and protested his ignorance of anything wrong, when a deputation was sent for poor cook, and he soon appeared amid the excited multitude, trembling, and as pale as he could be. “What is the matter with this coffee?” demanded the captain.
“I sure I don’t know, massa,” he replied.