“Round the fire of the little courier hut where we put up for the night,
we were joined by a lama, who was, he said, en route for Bathang. Since the unwelcome addition of the soldier spies to our party, it had become necessary for me to wait till all were asleep, to write up my journal. I was hard at work about midnight, when the lama returned to the room, pretending to have left his prayer-book behind; and seeing me engaged in writing, he became very curious to know what I was doing. Had I owned to recording a simple narrative of the day’s journey, he would have reported that I was taking notes of the country for some sinister purpose, so I replied that I was writing my prayers, a ceremony which I performed every night. This is a very common occupation of the lamas themselves, but he was surprised that a merchant should write prayers; so I told him that I always recited them after they were written, and would commence as soon as I had finished. He waited, and I soon commenced to read my journal over in a monotone like that in which the lamas recite their litanies. After reading thus for nearly half an hour, I stopped and asked my friend to recite his prayers for my benefit, promising to pay him for the service—and off he started and kept it up without ceasing until daylight next morning, when he awoke me, and received his fee of one rupee. He declared that I must belong to the Yellow religion, but I assured him to the contrary, merely saying that my religion much resembled his own. He was evidently puzzled, but pleased at my having made use of his services as a priest, and begged me to allow him to keep under my escort to Bathang.”
His inability to serve the interests of science was perhaps not a trouble of a nature to be very seriously felt by our traveller, whose chief object
in undertaking his journey was a commercial one, and whose quick perceptions and readiness to adapt himself to circumstances were a fair guarantee that he would neither run unnecessary risks nor let any available source of information pass unexplored. His book, which is very free from anything like unpleasant self-consciousness, shows him, notwithstanding, to have plenty of English pluck and determination, accompanied by a very un-English freedom from prejudice. One could find it in one’s heart to wish that in passing through scenery so impressive as that of Eastern Thibet, he might have added to his other good qualities as a narrator something more nearly approaching artistic perception than he anywhere exhibits. The absence of anything of the kind has, however, the effect of making his narrative singularly free from any appearance of conventional book-making—a result which is very like a perfect compensation.
At Sha-su, which he reached toward the middle of January, after a week or more of rather unpleasant boating experience, Mr. Cooper made his first acquaintance with real Chinese society, which he describes very well, and with some characteristic reflections:
“After breakfast, I paid a visit to the Catholic mission agent, Cheesien-sin by name, a wealthy merchant engaged in an extensive trade with Sz-chuan, with whom I had to arrange about funds for our journey to Chung Ching. We were shown into a little room next the counting-house, where we found several Christians, merchants from Chung Ching, smoking their pipes, each with his cup of tea on a small table before him. As soon as I seated myself, a little boy placed a tea-cup before me, and, throwing in a pinch of fragrant tea,
poured in boiling water from a large kettle, which he took from a little stand over a charcoal fire burning in an iron brazier in the centre of the room; having thus helped me to tea, he took my long Chinese pipe, and, filling it with tobacco, handed it to me with a light, and then took up his place behind my chair. Nothing could exceed the quiet politeness and quickness with which this little fellow served me; to every one in the room I was a perfect stranger and a foreigner, yet, being in a house of business, no distinction was made between me and any of the Chinese present.... After waiting about half an hour, the merchant came from the counting-house, and, saluting me very courteously, apologized for having kept me waiting, and after a few remarks on the crops and weather, inquired my business. On learning the object of my visit, he appeared quite pleased, and expressed himself delighted to be able to do anything for a friend of the fathers, and, leading me into his office, he paid me over the sum I required, merely taking from me a receipt for the amount. We then went back to the waiting-room, where he introduced me to several of the Chung Ching merchants, and explained to his guests that I was a foreign merchant undertaking a great journey to open up commerce, and complimented me on my courage in starting alone on so great an enterprise. We all sat smoking and drinking tea for nearly two hours, when I rose to go; but my host said that dinner was just ready, and he would be glad if I would join himself and guests, apologizing at the same time for his homely fare, saying that, if he had known I was coming, I should have had a proper dinner.
“I was so charmed with the manner of this Chinese gentleman—for such
in bearing he really was—that I accepted his invitation, and sat down again; and in a few minutes all the other merchants, except two young men, who were permanent guests, left, and a serving-man then laid out the table, placing a pair of ivory chop-sticks, tipped with silver, for each of us, and brought in the dinner, consisting of fish-soup, boiled and fried fish, stewed ducks, mutton, and fowl. We took our seats—the host last—and were then handed cups (about the size of a large breakfast-cup) of rice, and in the interval before the soup and fish were brought in, baked melon-seeds were placed before us on small plates; these we nibbled at for a few minutes, until our host, taking his chop-sticks up, put their points into a plate of fish, and, looking round the table, bowed to us, whereupon we simultaneously helped ourselves, and commenced our meal. I kept up a lively conversation on the subject of foreigners and their wonderful inventions during the dinner, which I thoroughly enjoyed. When we had finished, we all stood up, holding our chop-sticks by the tips with both hands horizontally in front of our foreheads as a sign of thankfulness, and also respect to our host. We then sat down again, and little kettles of hot Samshu were brought in, and we commenced to drink wine with each other. The two young merchants soon became very loud in my praise, saying that I was quite different to the foreigners in Hankou, I was more like a Chinaman; but were very anxious to know if I was of the same religion as themselves; and when I told that I was a Christian, repeatedly embraced me, calling me a brother. We sat over our Samshu and smoked for a long time, the absence of anything like constraint among us, and the genuine hospitality of our host, making
the hours pass quickly. I felt that I was seeing Chinese life from a standpoint hitherto unknown to most Europeans, especially Englishmen; and I felt much gratified with this my first admission into the private life of the people whose manners and customs I had adopted. During the time I was in the house I saw no females with the exception of a servant, nor did I ever in the house of any respectable Chinaman meet the womankind during the greater part of a year spent among this people.... As I was going toward the hotel, I could not help reflecting on the scene I had just left, so different in all respects from any previous idea I had formed of the Chinese character, of which, though I had dwelt for years in their country, I confess with shame, I had until now known nothing. I could not help contrasting the reception my host had given me, a total stranger and a foreigner, with that which he would probably have received at my hands had he visited me in Shanghai, when, as is usual with us Englishmen, he would very likely have had to come into my office without the least polite encouragement from me, and have transacted his business standing, after which I should probably have dismissed him with a gesture of impatience. It seems a great pity that we Englishmen, being such a great commercial people, do not associate ourselves more with the people amongst whom we trade. In China, we would do wisely to remember the old adage which tells us to ‘do in Rome as the Romans do,’ and to meet the Chinese more on a footing of equality; in fact, adopt as much as possible their ways of business, and by this means do away with that system of go-betweens which is so detrimental to us in all our dealings with the people, of whom we really know