glory in clearer and sublimer terms; for both conclude (whatever may be the primary application of those last chapters of Ezekiel) with the faroff vision of the future temple and city of the living God,—the blessed home and inheritance, where the earth-scaffolding of forms and figures are for ever removed, and the glorious temple of Jehovah, erected out of redeemed humanity, stands forth in all its perfection of beauty, having its name and character inscribed in the heraldic scroll, that was first deciphered by the Old-Testament prophet, new in-Jehovah is there.British and Foreign Evangelical Review.

WILLIAMSON'S JOURNEYS IN NORTH CHINA, MANCHURIA, AND EASTERN MONGOLIA.*

Ir is the fashion now-a-day to greet books of travel with a yawn. The much-enduring British public has so frequently been doomed to feast on "Réchauffé of Note-Book," that disgust has supervened. Men going from Dan to Beersheba have found the way all barren, and have insisted on communicating the wearisome fact to the world. In justice to readers, such perambulating authors should emblazon their title-pages with the appropriate legend,-" Abandon hope all ye who enter here." It is refreshing to meet with a volume that starts out from the rank and file, asserts its own individuality, and shows that it has a story to tell, and knows how to tell it. Such is the work now before us. Mr. Williamson has written a book which is worth reading from beginning to end. Abundant materials have been wrought into artistic shape; and the fascinating pages frequently gleam with the subtile "light that never was on land or sea."

Mr. Williamson spent several years in China, as an agent for the National Bible Society of Scotland. The journeys here sketched had for their object the distribution of the Scriptures and standard treatises on scientific subjects. The portion of the vast continent threaded by our author in prosecuting his philanthropic mission lies to the north, and comprises the provinces of Shan-Tung, Chih-Li, Shan-Si, Shen-Si, Kan-Su, and Honan. In addition, Eastern, Southern, and Central Manchuria were explored; and interesting details of Corean history, life, and character are furnished. Spreading before us the map attached to the first volume, and glancing along the line of Mr. Williamson's journeyings, we stand amazed at his energy, but confess ourselves right thankful that so firm a hand has raised the curtain concealing so large a proportion of the human race. Some conception of the vast extent of the territory traversed may be obtained when we state, that the provinces of ShanTung and Chih-Li alone contain an area of one hundred and twenty-four thousand and fifty-three square miles, and that a population of fifty-eight millions is collected upon it.

"Journeys in North China, Manchuria, and Eastern Mongolia; with some Account of Cores. By the Rev. Alexander Williamson, B.A., Agent of the National Bible Society of Scotland. With Illustrations, and two Maps." In two volumes. London: Smith, Elder, and Co. 1870,

The plan upon which the book proceeds is admirable. Chapters dealing with the religious, political, and social condition of the Chinese prelude ample physical descriptions of the provinces noted. Then follow the "journeys," abounding with life-like pictures, shrewd observations, and dashing adventures.

The character of the man chosen for the work of Bible-distribution in China seems to us to be of the utmost importance. He should have a fully developed intelligence, and a will unwavering as the course of nature. Religiously, his faith should be without a flaw; and his heart most certainly ought to be dominated by the spirit of self-sacrifice. In physique he must be a giant, ready at any moment to lift a floundering mule-cart to solid earth, or grasp its wheels, as a sullen brute is jibbing on the verge of a precipice. The opportunities for testing a good constitution are frequent,- at night, loathsome inns, pervaded by disgusting odours, and haunted by insects gifted with irrepressible activity, must be slept in; and by day, drenching storms frequently alternate with oozy quagmires, in playing tricks on travellers. Shrewdness, courage, nimbleness of action, unbounded good temper, a mind cleared of cant, and an eye fixed steady as a star upon a dark and desolate world, are desiderata without which let no man ride on the shafts of a Bible-cart through China.

The general population of the country seems to possess but little interest at the first view. An odd love for crooked ways, a vacant-mindedness, often embarrassing, a stolid conviction that things are better left in statu quo, a supercilious contempt for barbarians who betray a woman-like curiosity in the direction of persistent "interviewing," a drowsy opiated intelligence, these qualities seem to mark the mass of the people. But a nearer view mitigates this first impression. It is chiefly on the subject of his belief that a common-place man becomes interesting. What does this shambling inanity believe? That is no slight question. Answer it, and the man is an inanity no longer. So of nations.

As we

It appears that the ordinary Chinaman has his superstitions. He believes with all his heart in the paramount importance of his Emperor. "There cannot be two suns in the heavens, or two Whang-ti, emperors, in the world." This is an amiable and useful hallucination. It is impossible to help admiring this phase of Chinese belief. The wicked republican vexes not the almond-eyed dwellers in the "Flowery Land." Loyalty, which is really remarkable in these days of government by prime ministers, sways the uncomplaining "celestial" mind. turn over the records of these things we are impressed with the thought that when Mr. Carlyle translates into Chinese his quaint and alluring "Lectures on Heroes," the volume will have an immense circulation. The hero as king! A "feather-headed" British public may reject the magnificent theory, but John Chinaman surely will welcome it with exuberant joyfulness. We have called this a useful hallucination, and we are inclined to insist on the correctness of the term. Often, as we have gone over Mr. Williamson's volumes, we have paused and asked, How is it that this vast population hangs together? Why is it not disintegrated? And part of the reply, we submit, must be found in this central fact, the profound homage paid to the Whang-ti.

Another reverence ruling the Chinese mind is what may be phrased as

"the worship of ancestors." "They meet, salute, worship, and escort away the spirits of their ancestors in the most profoundly religious way of which their nature is capable. It is the most thoughtful, collected, and reverential act of their lives." Amongst the results of this superstition we discover a certain sublime "Toryism" existing in full vigour. It sums up its objections to all improvements in its favourite formula :-" Our ancestors did thus, and so must we." It is interesting to find the same political faith possessed by certain animals that are introduced to us by our author. He tells us of a notorious semi-hardened quagmire, called by extreme courtesy, a road, along which ancestral mules and donkeys have passed, plunging fetlock-deep in mud; wrenching out their beleaguered hoofs, with dire agony, they have left behind them a pitted track-their descendants reap the benefit of their efforts, and step carefully into the holes thus made, whinnying the while, "Our ancestors did thus, and so must we."

Not only has the ordinary Chinaman his reverences, but he has also his fears. Foremost amongst them is his dread of Fung Shui. A word of explanation here. The principle upon which the superstition rests is thus described :—

**All genial, life-giving influences come from the south, and all those of an evil, deadening character from the north. They think that these influences proceed in as straight a line as possible; and that if any high building be raised, it will divert the current from the places due north of it, and so injure the inhabitants in the direct line immediately beyond. On this account they imagine that cuttings in hills and through graveyards would awaken the whole invisible fraternity, and produce most disastrous consequences. For the same reason they think that high towers, telegraph-poles, railway-cuttings and signals would compel the good spirits to turn aside in all directions, and so throw everything into confusion."

In most Chinese buildings an opening towards the roof may be perceived. This is to permit the "straight-forward" spirit to pass without obstruction.

But the most appalling item in the creed of a Chinaman is, that he has brought himself to believe a lie. He really does not seem to have any conception of truth. It is a sad sentence to write, for amongst its letters lies hidden the death-warrant of the empire. We have lately witnessed the testing of an important experiment near our own shores. It has been illustrated by the roar of cannon, the crackling of rifles, and the wail of a vanquished people. "Can a nation be governed by lies?" The answer so far seems to be, emphatically, "No!" And so it must ever be, so long as God rules the world. A lie painfully shuffles through crooked ways that lead it down to the abyss. On its journey it may be shouted, be decked with garlands, worshipped with delirious devotion; but wise eyes see the thunder-scars upon its forehead, and in them read its doom. We confess that this colour-blindness, rendering it impossible for the Chinese people to recognize the truth, fills us with the saddest forebodings. The work awaiting Christian missionaries is indeed gigantic; they have to create a conscience in three hundred millions of the human race! The general result of the creed thus slightly sketched we should at once declare to be apathy, and every page of these volumes confirms our conclusion. The Imperial banner ou ht to display a dragon, couchant,—

yawning. But, in addition, we must place as a fearful integer in our calculation, the word "opium." In that we read the sickening fate of the swarming myriads of the Chinese continent.

Separated from the bulk of the general population by many barriers, stand the Literary Class. These individuals have been brought prominently before the English public lately. It is necessary to remember that there is the severest distinction between them and the masses of the people. In them, contempt for foreigners has been elevated into a religion. They are the instigators of those riots and massacres which lately gave rise to apprehensions of another war in China with England and France. We may cite them before the bar of humanity, confident that a verdict of condemnation will be pronounced; the difficulty lies in our incapacity to get the readily-granted warrant executed. To rake up some half-dozen coolies from the slums of an over-crowded town, and immolate them, is no satisfaction for the atrocities that have caused us to shudder. Until the shield spread before the Literary Class is thrust aside, the real murderers of men, and women, and little children will go unpunished. It is not for us to preach up a crusade of vengeance; but, at the same time, it is necessary that the true merits of the case should be kept before the country. These shocking outrages upon Christian missionaries do not emanate from the general population; they are fomented by a privileged class which has never yet been struck by the avenging hand. The newspapers maunder much about "missionaries and gunboats;" to confute their statements would be to waste valuable time. Mr. Williamson deals with the question in a few trenchant sentences, and to his pages we refer candid readers. The strongest argument that can be produced is surely here before us. A missionary, far from treaty ports, has found free passage throughout the length and breadth of North China. His errand was known, his passport was respected, and indifference was the most direct assault he suffered.

But it is time for us to endeavour to catch a glimpse of Mr. Williamson in his work. One of the most interesting of his journeys was through the provinces of Chih-Li, Shan-Si, a portion of Shen-Si, and Honan. He started from Peking, on the 11th of September, 1866, in company with his friend, Mr. Lees, of Tien-tsin, and wandered about with his mule carts and Bible-boxes, until the 18th of November in the same year. A word about these carts :

"The ordinary chair-cart (as it is called) is a two-wheeled vehicle, made very strong, but without springs. It has a circular cover, made of wooden lattice-work, covered with cloth, and is also closed in behind. At the back of the cart the trams project so as to afford convenience for luggage. All old travellers are careful to fill up the back of the inside of the cart first, putting mattresses, pillows, and such like buffers between their bones and the wood. Neglect of such packing' will surely be paid for by aching limbs and awkward bruises. When travelling, the easiest place is on the shaft; the driver takes the left side, and you the right. But if too weary, or anxious to avoid the sun and dust, you seek the inside, it needs careful management to sleep-as nevertheless one may do-on these rutty roads. Our cavalcade consisted of two such carts, and of one much larger, and without cover, on which were piled our books,"

Their road lay along the imperial highway, but its incessant joltings were so cruel, that they sought escape from them at the first opportunity. This "highway" seems to consist of blocks of granite, that once presented a level surface, but have been disordered by a slight earthquake. The result is, that the huge masses lie in painful groups. As an adventure, we have sometimes leaped from block to block of stone avalanched from the sapped cliff at the seaside; but in our wildest moments, when panting for breakneck experiments, we never conceived it possible to drive a cart over them. However, this was but an indication of the narrowness of the “barbarian" intellect. The Chinese seemingly do not object to this new adaptation of blanket-tossing. Before sunset the walled city of Lu-kuchian, celebrated for its magnificent bridge over the river Hwen, was passed. The night was spent at Chang-ching-tien, a town consisting of little more than one long street, " paved from end to end with large blocks of stone." Here one of the carts upset-and no wonder! Mr. Williamson introduces us to an inn. The guest chambers are little horse-boxes, twelve feet square, "with paper in place of glass for windows, doors which do not fit, and through the openings of which wind and dust find their way." The bed, called a “kang," is simply a brick or mud platform, raised about two feet from the floor. This in cold weather is stuffed internally with fuel, and thereby warmed. If the chimney should be foul, smarting smoke stings the wakeful eyes of the recumbent "barbarian." What charming simplicity! Rising early in the morning, and passing through several towns and many villages, our travellers reached the old city of Tso-chow, of which an interesting description is given. Arriving at Pei-ho, work was commenced, large congregations were preached to, and many books were sold.

The plan of operations was as follows. Standing in some prominent position, the boxes were opened, exciting generally the curiosity of the populace, and then, prefaced by a few explanatory observations, the sale began. At Pei-ho, a man who had heard the preachers elsewhere, and had evidently read the New Testament, came for copies of every Christian book they had, and these cases were frequent. This man at Pei-ho is a welcome appearance to us. No one can read Mr. Williamson's narrative without being struck with this fact—that after a place has once been visited by Bible-sellers, the interest of the people seems completely exhausted. Again and again we meet with sentences showing disappointment at the smallness of the sales; the only assignable reason being that "the place had been visited before." On this we have something more to say further on.

The evening of the 17th of September found Mr. Williamson and his party at the market-town of Ming-yul-tien, where a pig-fair was being held. Notwithstanding profusion of squeals, the boxes were opened, and the sale commenced. The character of the book dealers was often a subject of mystery to the crowds gathered together. Once they were mistaken for match-sellers; and once, which is more to the point, they were mistaken for, and welcomed as, itinerant doctors :

"A poor fellow would come up, holding his jaw, and asking for a cure for tooth-ache; another had something wrong with his eyes; and a third poked a