criminals the heart and liver or lungs (I forget which) are usually-if they can be got at-torn out, and sold for a very high price, in order to literally "put heart" into the craven. When I was in Sz Chuan,

some twelve years later, two men once suddenly rushed into the kitchen of the inn, hastily grabbed a frying-pan, threw something into it, and after a short frizzling commenced to eat it; my writer told me it was the heart or liver of a celebrated highwayman who had just been tortured to death; these were two of the "satellites." Such events are frequently described in Chinese history; in fact, "eat his flesh and sleep on his skin" is a regular literary expression for "revenge." To resume. The one-storeyed houses in the neighbourhood were covered with joyous unofficial spectators, all struggling to get a good view; but I think we Europeans, as we stalked unmolested through the crowd, were as much the centre of attraction as the executions; it was only eight years since the allied troops had entered Peking, and we “foreign devils" came in for our full share of the reflected glory earned by Tommy Atkins. At that time a single foreigner with a stick could scatter a crowd of Chinese, armed or unarmed, like a flock of sheep. None of the prisoners knew whether or not they were actually doomed to execution, for, in accordance with an old custom started by one of the Han dynasty emperors 2,000 years ago, the Emperor has to sign three separate decrees at short intervals on the morning of the execution in order to escape the risk of precipitately causing the death of an innocent or hardly used man, as once happened to the ancient Emperor in question. At about eleven o'clock a "movement” was apparent; two rows of satellites, wielding bamboo bludgeons, cleared the course for the imperial commissioners, whilst others drove back the crowd with their Scourges. The procession was headed by a cavalier wearing on his cap a long crystal button, elaborately mounted in gold, and thus, by its unusual shape, signifying that he had just come from the Emperor's presence; his horse was led for him, as he carried aloft with both hands the Emperor's final warrant wrapped up in yellow silk. Dismounting before the official shed, he placed this packet with an air of extreme veneration upon the central table, and was duly bowed to his appointed seat. Next came a couple of ordinary Peking scatless carts, two-wheeled affairs something like a covered Lancashire market-cart, but smaller, and constructed almost exactly on the principle of those in use 2,000 years ago, as exhibited upon the ancient sculptures recently discovered in Shan Tung province. In the first cart sat or squatted a handsome old mandarin of the third (blue button) rank, and in the second the commissioner himself, with

resent nstance at the prisoners presented a most woebeggane and begant moderne, as indeed poor wretches who have bear some time in a Chinese gol invariably do. Yet even this PARTIDOCAISINg meatment of prisoners has a reasonable defence ; the sae a Chinese it is so low, the common people, who often 1 x låt ano la FANS spod their days in such a villainous MAN I JAIN-Šom our point of view-misery, that there is no a psalt punishing an individual unless you starve and 1. SES TO Take him less comfortable than he is when

bestemminLERIET rate misery. None of the prisoners

Cause the sigtet for a emotion; those who had tobaccopas smoked tea, and those who had not were quite willing to #222gt. Dormulions of cigars and food, like so many monkeys in a ega, au cad pokes was the tystanders. The Chinese have no For Whatte of death; that is no Chinese will ever hesitate to tavel A a nday bant, vid across a shooting butts, drink stagMAN Wiet die amidst plague, smallpox, or cholera, sail down a djmaa zid, or go down quietly with a sinking steamer when at e socas diet that no means of escape are provided. It is diffiDereldra, to understand what they run away for in war, or why thee *7 never måndaly stand up to a square pugilistic

Te it is the national mind has evolved itself into a state which abdors a sizaten mene of any sort; in diplomacy, as in war, it profers tortuous evasive courses, and invariably collapses before a display of force or a fait amp; the same thing in most departments of everyday life; commerce, however, is an exception.

Whilst the officials in the shed were awaiting the arrival of the imperial commissioner, the “satellites," or police, vigorously plied their scourges upon the rowdy crowd, which largely consisted of roughs and loafers who had borrowed old official hats for the occasion. In front of the official booth were five yataghans, or executioners' swords, about three feet long by three inches deep, with handles of carved wood representing the imperial dragon, griffin, or other monstrosity. Perhaps yataghan is hardly so suitable a word as butcher's knife, for the inner curve appeared to have been caused by length of use rather than by original art; all were very ancient in appearance, as they grimly stood in a framework protected from the weather by a tiny mat house. Meanwhile, the executioners, wearing yellow cotton aprons, were exchanging pipes and chaff with the crowd, or preparing baskets of bread with which to soak up the blood; sometimes these chunks are sold and eaten in order to "give courage" to the purchaser. In the case of very desperate

criminals the heart and liver or lungs (I forget which) are usually-if they can be got at-torn out, and sold for a very high price, in order to literally “put heart" into the craven. When I was in Sz Chuan, some twelve years later, two men once suddenly rushed into the kitchen of the inn, hastily grabbed a frying-pan, threw something into it, and after a short frizzling commenced to eat it; my writer told me it was the heart or liver of a celebrated highwayman who had just been tortured to death; these were two of the "satellites." Such events are frequently described in Chinese history; in fact, "eat his flesh and sleep on his skin" is a regular literary expression for "revenge." To resume. The one-storeyed houses in the neighbourhood were covered with joyous unofficial spectators, all struggling to get a good view; but I think we Europeans, as we stalked unmolested through the crowd, were as much the centre of attraction as the executions; it was only eight years since the allied troops had entered Peking, and we "foreign devils" came in for our full share of the reflected glory earned by Tommy Atkins. At that time a single foreigner with a stick could scatter a crowd of Chinese, armed or unarmed, like a flock of sheep. None of the prisoners knew whether or not they were actually doomed to execution, for, in accordance with an old custom started by one of the Han dynasty emperors 2,000 years ago, the Emperor has to sign three separate decrees at short intervals on the morning of the execution in order to escape the risk of precipitately causing the death of an innocent or hardly used man, as once happened to the ancient Emperor in question. At about eleven o'clock a "movement" was apparent; two rows of satellites, wielding bamboo bludgeons, cleared the course for the imperial commissioners, whilst others drove back the crowd with their scourges. The procession was headed by a cavalier wearing on his cap a long crystal button, elaborately mounted in gold, and thus, by its unusual shape, signifying that he had just come from the Emperor's presence; his horse was led for him, as he carried aloft with both hands the Emperor's final warrant wrapped up in yellow silk. Dismounting before the official shed, he placed this packet with an air of extreme veneration upon the central table, and was duly bowed to his appointed seat. Next came a couple of ordinary Peking scatless carts, two-wheeled affairs something like a covered Lancashire market-cart, but smaller, and constructed almost exactly on the principle of those in use 2,000 years ago, as exhibited upon the ancient sculptures recently discovered in Shan Tung province. In the first cart sat or squatted a handsome old mandarin of the third (blue button) rank, and in the second the commissioner himself, with

In the present instance all the prisoners presented a most woebegone and haggard appearance, as indeed poor wretches who have been some time in a Chinese gaol invariably do. Yet even this indignation-rousing treatment of prisoners has a reasonable defence; the scale of Chinese life is so low, the common people, who often live like and literally with pigs, spend their days in such a villainous state of dirt and-from our point of view-misery, that there is no way of physically punishing an individual unless you starve and "torture" him, so as to make him less comfortable than he is when he is "enjoying himself" in private misery. None of the prisoners displayed the slightest fear or emotion; those who had tobaccopipes smoked them, and those who had not were quite willing to accept contributions of cigars and food, like so many monkeys in a cage, or to crack jokes with the bystanders. The Chinese have no fear whatever of death; that is, no Chinese will ever hesitate to travel in a rickety boat, walk across a shooting butts, drink stagnant water, live amidst plague, small-pox, or cholera, sail down a dangerous rapid, or go down quietly with a sinking steamer when it appears clear that no means of escape are provided. It is difficult, therefore, to understand what they run away for in war, or why they will never individually stand up to a square pugilistic encounter. The fact is the national mind has evolved itself into a state which abhors a situation nette of any sort; in diplomacy, as in war, it prefers tortuous evasive courses, and invariably collapses before a display of force or a fait accompli; the same thing in most departments of everyday life; commerce, however, is an exception.

Whilst the officials in the shed were awaiting the arrival of the imperial commissioner, the "satellites," or police, vigorously plied their scourges upon the rowdy crowd, which largely consisted of roughs and ioafers who had borrowed old official hats for the occasion. In front of the official booth were five yataghans, or executioners' swords, about three feet long by three inches deep, with handles of carved wood representing the imperial dragon, griffin, or other monstrosity. Perhaps yataghan is hardly so suitable a word as butcher's kuie, for the inner curve appeared to have been caused by length of use rather than by original art; all were very ancient in appearance, as they grimly stood in a framework protected from the weather by a tiny mat house. Meanwhile, the executioners, wearing yellow cotton aprons, were exchanging pipes and chaff with the crowd, or preparing baskets of bread with which to soak up the blood; sometimes these chunks are sold and eaten in order to "give courage" to the purchaser. In the case of very desperate

criminals the heart and liver or lungs (I forget which) are usually-if they can be got at-torn out, and sold for a very high price, in order to literally "put heart" into the craven. When I was in Sz Chuan, some twelve years later, two men once suddenly rushed into the kitchen of the inn, hastily grabbed a frying-pan, threw something into it, and after a short frizzling commenced to eat it; my writer told me it was the heart or liver of a celebrated highwayman who had just been tortured to death; these were two of the "satellites." Such events are frequently described in Chinese history; in fact, "eat his flesh and sleep on his skin" is a regular literary expression for "revenge." To resume. The one-storeyed houses in the neighbourhood were covered with joyous unofficial spectators, all struggling to get a good view; but I think we Europeans, as we stalked unmolested through the crowd, were as much the centre of attraction as the executions; it was only eight years since the allied troops had entered Peking, and we "foreign devils" came in for our full share of the reflected glory earned by Tommy Atkins. At that time a single foreigner with a stick could scatter a crowd of Chinese, armed or unarmed, like a flock of sheep. None of the prisoners knew whether or not they were actually doomed to execution, for, in accordance with an old custom started by one of the Han dynasty emperors 2,000 years ago, the Emperor has to sign three separate decrees at short intervals on the morning of the execution in order to escape the risk of precipitately causing the death of an innocent or hardly used man, as once happened to the ancient Emperor in question. At about eleven o'clock a "movement" was apparent; two rows of satellites, wielding bamboo bludgeons, cleared the course for the imperial commissioners, whilst others drove back the crowd with their scourges. The procession was headed by a cavalier wearing on his cap a long crystal button, elaborately mounted in gold, and thus, by its unusual shape, signifying that he had just come from the Emperor's presence; his horse was led for him, as he carried aloft with both hands the Emperor's final warrant wrapped up in yellow silk. Dismounting before the official shed, he placed this packet with an air of extreme veneration upon the central table, and was duly bowed to his appointed seat. Next came a couple of ordinary Peking seatless carts, two-wheeled affairs something like a covered Lancashire market-cart, but smaller, and constructed almost exactly on the principle of those in use 2,000 years ago, as exhibited upon the ancient sculptures recently discovered in Shan Tung province. In the first cart sat or squatted a handsome old mandarin of the third (blue button) rank, and in the second the commissioner himself, with