CHAPTER XI.SHANGHAI AND HONG-KONG.

THE GREAT WALL.

A similar sacrifice takes place at the spring solstice, with the same ceremonies, at the northern altar, but the motive is the special prayer for a prosperous harvest, whilst the winter sacrifice is offered for a blessing upon the whole empire.

We cannot see the ruins of the Summer Palace, the Yuan-ming-yuan, or Round and Splendid Garden, and which is distant about ten miles from Peking. "It is a delightful park with a rich variety of groves, temples, lakes, palaces and pavilions," and must from the photographs be very beautiful. It stands there for ever, as a memorial left to embitter the Chinese against us, yet who could say but that Lord Elgin, by destroying the Palace of their thrice sacred monarch, brought home to them a fit and righteous judgment?

But our greatest disappointment of all is that we must give up a five days' expedition to the Great Wall if we would take the French mail from Shanghai. "Fancy going to Peking and not seeingtheWall!" I can hear someone exclaim. Well, we shall not be all unique in this, for three-fourths of the hundred foreigners who live in Peking have never been, nor ever intend to go.An artificial interest, all out of proportion to the reality, is created by its great antiquity. Finished in 204.B.C.(for it took ten years in building) for 1500 miles this great wall, which was intended to keep out all the enemies of China, runs up and down the northern face of the country, in one place over a peak of 5225 feet high. It is constructed of earth and stones. It has been truly said: "that looking over the surface of our globe, it is the only artificial structure that would arrest the gaze."

The grapes are sour. For after all, the visitors who go do not see the real Great Wall, but only a spur of more modern date. Also the walls of Peking are considerably higher and more imposing.

As is only fit and proper, for they are the most interesting feature of the city, we make our farewell to Peking from those grand Walls.

We left Peking at dawn. Through the silent streets of the Tartar City we drove, passing for the last time through the Gate of Sublime Learning on to the sandy waste outside, jolting along under the great Walls, with the sun rising to meet us.

We are returning to Tungchau by the Canal, and so saving the penalties of the road and the dust, but owing to the numerous locks, we have to transship no less than five times from one boat to another. This waterway is in connection with the great Imperial canal, another, like the Great Wall, of those time-enduring monuments of the industry of a great people—and serves to transport the tribute of rice from the south to Peking. The locks are very picturesque, being built of yellow blocks of stone, over which the running water forms a waterfall overshadowed by trees. It is a quaint slow mode of travelling, gently rippling along over the mirror surface of the water, pastgreat rustling beds of pampas grass twelve feet high, opposite one of which some Chinese sportsmen, with their matchlocks and lighted fuses, are crouched ready to fire at the wild ducks that abound in these watery marshes. Amongst the groves of trees, which look golden in their autumn foliage against a clear blue sky, we see many memorial peilaus, and those other monuments of stone pyramids springing from the back of a huge tortoise. The air is still and clear as early autumn, and the sounds from the mud villages we pass, are borne clearly to us. The walls of Peking, with their crenellated gateways, are just fading away into the blue haze.

Five hours of tedious progress makes our eyes glad to see the beautiful carved bridge of Palikiao, where the combat in 1860 took place, and the damage then done to the bridge has never been repaired. In a few minutes more the pagoda of Tungchau looms up, and the canal rapidly narrows.

We reach Tungchau in a veritable dust-storm, that blows the loose sand by the banks into spiral columns and pillars, and embark once more on the house-boat. It seems quite like coming home. Then we begin the Peiho's weary succession of winding reaches, with the endless continuation of mud banks and yellow water.

The prospect next morning was disheartening.The wind was strong and dead ahead, and though our men had worked all night, certain landmarks told us that our progress was far from satisfactory. All through that long day we crawled along; weary work it was for our poor tired crew. As bend after bend opened out before us and receded, each one so exactly like the other, we registered a hope that we might never more see the Peiho. Evening closed in, night succeeded, and we yet vainly looked for the lights of Tientsin. As so often happens after a long watching, we seemed to arrive suddenly. Our plank door was removed, and we found ourselves at Tientsin and the Bridge of Boats, and amid the grateful "kotows" of our men for a gratuity well earned by such patient toil, we sped in jinrikishas through the dimly-lighted city, where everyone carries his own swinging coloured lantern, to the Consulate once more.

We found a China Merchant's steamer, theShin Sheng, leaving Tientsin the next morning, and embarked at once. Two unsuccessful attempts at turning the steamer opposite the wharf we made; the third succeeded, but when she was broadside across the stream, stem and stern touched the banks. We passed safely through the perilous bends of the river, only grounding occasionally, but once the bows of theShin Shengran up on to the bank, and cut clean away quite ten feet ofit. A little mud-house stood on the angle, and the old village harpy to whom it belonged, came out and shook her fist at the captain on the bridge, showering imprecations on his head, and small wonder, for some time previously the bows of his ship had goneintoher house and wrecked it! We breathed more freely when the forts of Taku passed, the Bar, or "Heaven-sent Barrier," crossed, and the pilot left behind, we emerged without mishap into the Yellow Sea.

We had a fearful tossing in the Gulf of Pecheli. At Chefoo we called for cargo. It is a pretty seaside place, with a splendid beach and bathing sands, a boon to the residents of Shanghai, who either come here or go to Japan for the summer months. It was too rough for the lighters to come off, so we anchored for the night. The next morning a gale was blowing in the roadstead—the breaking of the north-east monsoon—and we had to move round under the lea of the bluff. Our hearts sink within us, and we despair of catching the French mail, which means waiting at Shanghai a week for the P. and O. Returning when the gale moderated, the agent sent off to say that we were to start at once and not wait for the cargo, so we have wasted eighteen hours rolling and knocking about for nothing.

We had not gone more than two miles out, when the engineer sent to say that a valve was leaking;this necessitated putting back again, and a further delay. At last we get really off. Certainly we have endured much to see Peking. Two days afterwards we are in the mouth of the Yangtze, anxiously looking for the black funnels of theMessageriesboat. We know she should have left at noon to-day, and it is just that hour. Yes, it is all right. She is still there, surrounded by lighters, and we steam close to find out that she sails in twenty hours. There has been a delay of one day, luckily for us.

We proceed up the Woosung tributary of the Yangtze. It is a glorious morning. The junks, painted in gaudy colours, with the all-seeing, staring white and black eye, glide past us. The banks are lined with a fort, factories, dock and ship-building yard, a gay scene of thriving commercial activity. Before us now opens out the bright green lawn of the Bund, of Shanghai, with its blue-roofed pagoda for the band, backed by a row of handsome oriental-looking houses and "hongs," with green blinds and deep verandas. There is the buff and grey of the German consulate, and the grey and red of the Japanese, whilst the French tricolour flies over, and indicates the French settlement, and in the far corner, to the right, is the British flag over our own consulate and garden. The numerous tributaries of the Yangtze are bridged over, and join the quay together.

One of the prettiest sights in coming up to Shanghai, or "upper Sea," is to see the men-of-war and gun-boats of all nations, lying side by side in the river before the Bund. There are English, American, French, German, Spanish, and Japanese men-of-war and a Chinese gunboat, each floating their star and stripes, tricolour, Union Jack, Black Eagle, red ball on a white ground (Japanese) and the Imperial Dragon.

Shanghai is a gay, bright clean place, where upwards of 4000 Europeans reside, the majority being British. These claim for it the title of the Paris of the East, and the shops and broad well-kept streets make it worthy of the name. You have, too, the picturesque element of Chinese life without the accompanying dirt and squalor, for the typical Chinese town with its filthy narrow streets is relegated to the back of the settlement. All life centres on the Bund, which we and everyone else are always passing up and down; and here amongst the smart little broughams, that are like Indian gharries, and the Victorias, dog-carts, and phaetons, with their scarlet-clad mafoos and syces, mingle the sedan-chairs of magnates, the Chinese wheelbarrow, with the passengers balancing on either side, and the brightly lined green and red jinricksha. There is the same cosmopolitan crowd on the pavements overflowing into the road, for the white "ducks" and flannels of the Europeans,mingle with the bright blue, green, maroon, crimson, brown and yellow coats of the merchants and compradores. For many of the hongs (as the places of business are called) are on the Bund—whilst the loose coats and shiny trousers of the Chinese ladies, with their smooth coils of black hair interlaced with green jade hair-pins and long pendant earrings, are seen side by side with the flowing robes and turbaned heads of an Indian.

We called at the British consulate, which lies in an enclosure of spacious green lawn with palms and flower-beds. There stands here a superb granite cross erected to the memory of the five victims, and companions of Sir Harry Parkes, and to avenge whose murder, the Summer Palace was burnt and looted by the French. Further along, on the Bund, is the statue to Sir Harry Parkes, a little man with large whiskers, but a very able diplomatist, whose death was universally mourned by the Europeans in China. The English cathedral and deanery lie at the back of the Bund. The streets are so broad and clean, the roads so firm, that it is a pleasure to be on them, particularly after those of Peking. It is because they are under the supervision of an English Municipal Council, and they deserve for them the greatest credit.

At four o'clock we went to a meet of the Tandem Club, the last of the season, held in front of the bank. There are fifteen members, but ten onlyturned out, and were led off by the only tandem of horses. The other teams were all of the short-necked, thick-set, Chinese ponies driven in a modified dog-cart. Then we strolled along on the grass under the trees to the gardens, to listen to the Manila band. These gardens slope with green lawns to the water's edge, and the wandering paths lead by beds, bright with heliotrope, geraniums, chrysanthemums, and tropical growths of banyan trees, palms, magnolias, indiarubber and castor-oil plants, amidst which pale-faced children are playing in charge of their Chinese amahs. In the evening we dined with Mr. and Mrs. Robert Little. He is the able editor of theNorth China Daily News.

On a lovely Sunday morning we embark on the steam tug, and once more, for the third and last time, go down to Woosung. In an hour we are on board the Messageries Maritime's s.s.Calédonien, critically surveying our home for the next five weeks.

The Messageries line has the advantage of the P. and O. in that they are more generous in giving separate cabins, the cuisine is said to be better, and indeed they take trouble to make it so, sending the cooks every two years back to a restaurant in Paris. It is also an immense boon (which everybody who has travelled much will appreciate) to have fixed places for dinner only, andat the other meals a free choice of companions. The saloon is spacious, and there is a splendid promenade deck, which is, however, somewhat spoilt by the influx of too numerous, second-class passengers, who share the privilege of using it.

Harbour of Hong-Kong.

The north-east monsoon is with us, and in two days and a half from leaving Shanghai, and after passing through the Straits of Formosa, between the mainland of China and the island of that name, past Foochow and Amoy, which are too far distant to be seen, we anchor at Hong Kong at midnight. Though dark, it is a starlight night. Hong Kong, or "Good Harbour," presents itself to us in bright electric arches of light, thrown far up on the sides of the peak, whilst its beautiful harbour is traced out for us by the twinkle of lights fromthe sampans, moored in hundreds along the wharf, by the swiftly moving jinricksha lights coursing along the road of the sea-shore, and the dots of lights on the rocking masts or the gleaming eyes of steam-tugs in the harbour.

We have decided to give up Canton, see what we can of Hong Kong in the time the steamer stays, and not wait a week for the next mail.

I was once told that no one has ever done justice to the beauties of Hong Kong, and as we landed at sunrise on the quay I was inclined to agree to this. The deep verandas of the Eastern-looking houses, with their pale pink and drab tints, the cool arcades, and above all the tropical wealth of vegetation, makes Hong Kong the prettiest of Eastern cities.

Leaving Queen's Road, we are carried up in chairs under a lovely overhanging avenue of banyan trees, whose huge knotted roots lie round the path, whilst from the grateful shade of their thick leaves above, depend the long thread-like tendrils, forming a transparent curtain. Past the grey, weather-stained cathedral we go, hidden away in a little recess under the hills, past the barracks, whence sound the bagpipes of Princess Louise's Highlanders, to the station of the mountain railway up the peak. "The Peak"—what would Hong Kong be without this prominent feature? True, by keeping off the sea-breezes and by penning the town inthe narrow strip between the harbour and the mountain, it makes it steamy, unhealthy, fever-stricken and well-nigh uninhabitable in summer, but then it provides a sanatorium on the many summits of its heights, where every available platform is occupied by a house.

Unflinchingly straight up runs the line of the railway, and as we ascend, we look down on the roofs of the houses, perched without any sequence, up and down the side of the hills, into gardens and tennis courts, and the green waters of a reservoir below; over the black and white speckled mass that stands for the town, further out to the harbour, a blue pond studded with black spots by the steamers, whilst the sampans are brown dots. The range of barren rocky mountains close round the harbour, and there is Koolong, with its wharves and godowns, on the Chinese mainland, whilst we are on the Island of British soil. It is a beautiful view, this bird's-eye panorama of the town and harbour, from Victoria gap.

You must see the Peak to realize its real height, its scarcely sloping shoulders, covered with tropical growth in the valley, growing scantier and scantier, until you reach the summit, bare and rocky. Two enormous hotels, and many houses, populate the spacy crest. And the peep over the other side of green rounded hills, running down to the sea, is simply lovely, whilst the views from every pointare far-reaching and exhaustive. We take chairs and go to the point, but one degree lower than the topmost one, where stands the signal station, to the bungalow of Government House. Early as it is, and late in the season, we find the heat terrific. Everyone is obliged to come and live up here in the summer, the nights in Hong Kong bringing no relief, and the difference in the temperature is often as much as 9°. As we return we meet all the business men, in the coolest of white costumes, being carried in chairs by coolies in smart uniforms of white with blue or scarlet sashes, to the station, going down to town for the day's work.

In descending, we return to the main thoroughfare of Queen's Road, and after some shopping, go to the City Hall, and the marble palace of the Shanghai and Hong Kong bank, where I wait outside to watch the ever-varying stream of passers-by. Chinamen in their cool cotton jackets and glazed pantaloons, coolies with their bamboo-slung burdens, sedan-chairs, jinrickshas, wheelbarrows, chairs, Sikh policemen with their scarlet turbans, Cinghalese, Parsees, mingling with our own officers and soldiers, under the shadow of the trees.

And then we drive out to the Happy Valley, and come suddenly upon that beautiful green lawn, lying so naturally in the midst of luxuriantly wooded hills. It is truly a felicitous little spot, with its racecourse marked out by white railingand its Grand Stand. But it is the cemetery which fills us with admiration, and one would fain that the Happy Valley were not desecrated by the racecourse, but rather consecrated to the peaceful repose of the dead. They are separated only by the breadth of the road.

Of all the God's acres in all parts of the world, including the beautiful one of Mount Auburn, at Boston, but perhaps excepting the English cemetery on the heights of Scutari, at Constantinople, or that at Cannes, this one of the Happy Valley is the most perfect. Entering by a gate in the walls, you find yourself in a tropical garden, skilfully laid out, and growing around you in profuse luxuriance,—palms with graceful waving arms, mighty clumps of feathery bamboos, delicate spreading tree ferns, crotons of orange and yellow and variegated green, hibiscus with their single blood-red blossom, colias, camellia and azaleas, bushes of flowering wax-like alamanders, trailing masses of purple buganvillea, all the hot-house flowers we prize at home, and that grow so unwillingly with us, when compared to this almost oppressive wealth of nature. Amongst the bright gravel paths and green lawns, rise massive pillars, granite crosses and cenotaphs, memorials erected by soldiers and sailors to their comrades—to many who, alas! have perished from the deadly effects of a climate which yet produces all this beauty that is around us.

We return to luncheon at Government House, on the kindly invitation of General and Mrs. Barker, the acting-governor until Sir William Robinson arrives next month. With a scramble, and the aid of the Government steam-launch, we just catch theCalédonienas she weighs anchor. We passed out through the southern passage of the Island, on our way to Saigon, the capital of French Cochin China.

For the last two days we have been in sight of the coast of Annam.

When shall we be at Cape St. Jacques? Shall we lose the tide? This is the question which one asks of the other on board. And by 6 a.m. we find ourselves at rest, waiting outside the bar of the river Dannai, for the tide to turn, to ascend inland to Saigon. Saigon is the French capital of Cochin China, or Indo-China, as it is called, and is the chief city of the provinces of Annam, Tonquin, and before long of Gambogia, when the present King dies.

Cape St. Jacques is a pretty green foreland, jutting out into the sea, fringed with cocoa-nut palms, and has a large white hotel, built by the Pilot. Surely by this roadstead upon the hills, courting the breezes of the north-east monsoon, with the ample anchorage in the rear, the French might have fixed the capital of Cochin China. Butno. They placed it, as in olden time, far up a tortuous river, with a narrow channel. The delay, and the pilotage, frighten away the ocean greyhounds of commerce.

We weigh anchor. It is one o'clock. The sun is blazing hot, and there is not a breath of air. But it is cool, they say, compared to what Saigon will be. We shall see. Now we are in the winding channel. North, south, east, west, we steer. Larboard! Triboard! Four hours we steam up the river Dannai, with its flat banks of mangrove swamps, and tangle of tropical vegetation, where they say tigers come out to sun themselves on the sands. We sight at length the cathedral towers of Saigon. They are to the right of us. In another instant they will be to the left. Then we appear to have passed them, for we see the town on the starboard quarter.

But at five we are at the quay, which is shaded by avenues of trees, with the hibiscus, blossoming garden of the agent's house opposite—an old temple with rows of fierce-tailed dragons guarding the roof. On the wharf, the usual motley crowd thickening every minute as the news of our arrival spreads, whilst Victorias, drawn by those beautiful, though rat-like, ponies that are bred in Tonquin, are in waiting. These latter only come out at five in the evening, and in the daytime we must be content with the malabars, as the shuttered gharriesare called, from the Annamite name of the coachman.

We take the fashionable drive of Saigon, thetour d'inspection. Off we go, flying as the wind, past some native houses, built on piles over a green swamp, with waving palms above them. Here flourish the Cochin China pig, the real pig of original breed, with its pink, bow-shaped back, and earth-touching stomach, and the bright-plumaged Cochin China fowls. We should like to buy specimens of the animals that have made Cochin China celebrate at home, but doubt the warmth of our reception on board-ship if we return with them. We cross the bridge, and look over the hundreds of sampans that swarm up this creek of the river; then drive along for a few yards by the steam tramway which connects the China town of Cholons with Saigon, out under the cool wide avenues of the Quai du Commerce, with its arsenal and Bureaux d'Affaires. The roads are as flat and firm as a billiard table.

Beautiful boulevards, wide streets, great cafés, where pale-faced Frenchmen sip absinthe and petits verres. It is Paris. Bravo, La France! But it would be much better for these gay causeurs, to play lawn-tennis, and football, cricket, rackets and rounders, as do the English at Hong Kong, Singapore, and Colombo, thus defying, in large measure, or at least postponing, the action of thetropics. It is thirty years since the French acquired Saigon and Cochin China. At one time it promised to be a prosperous colony. But that day is past. Commercial depression reigns supreme, and France wearies of the large subsidies swallowed up without results by Tonquin. That, though, is not our business. We rather admire the feats of engineering, of laying out, and the horticultural skill.

BOTANICAL GARDEN, SAIGON.

We see this in perfection in the Jardin d'Acclimitasion, but with a wealth of natural vegetation, how easy it is to make a garden such a paradise as is this. In the deep bend of the river are the green lawns and forest-trees of this botanical garden. There are banyan trees with their trellise curtains of roots sweeping the ground, cacti in a mighty spiky group, standing apart. Single aloes, with their blooming crests, and the palms—they form a palmery of themselves, with the various specimens of cocoa or tree palms, their straight grey stems tufted at the top; of sago palms, with their graceful curving arms, shadowing the lawns; of travellers, with their hands of mighty fingers outspread from the single stem, all and every kind luxuriantly magnificent, a single one of which would assist in making the fortune of a London florist, such as we who see them dwarfed and frozen when exiled to our northern climes, are scarcely able to realize that they are of the same species.There are magnolias and camellias, growing to the height of our forest trees, bamboo clumps, whose single-jointed stems spring equally high, and mimosa trees, with their tender sensitive leaf, as spreading as our chestnuts. And all these trees are banked up with and grow out of brilliant beds of variegated green and yellow crotons, of caladiums, with their enormous boat-shaped leaves of pink oleanders, of crimson hibiscus, and purple bougainvillea, and cconvolvulus, whilst orange and lemon trees, India rubber and mangoes, mingle with the heavy green and yellow melon-like fruit of the pommelo. In the midst of this is an aviary, and cages of rare animals, natives of these tropical regions. We particularly notice the white pigeon, with the single blood-red spot on the bosom.

We wander about in the dusky growth of overpowering luxuriance, which to us appears so supremely beautiful, but which they say in its monotonous green, palls upon you when you live amongst it. We come upon a cool arbour, formed of green lattices overgrown with creepers and passion flower, containing an exquisite fernery, damp and green, with a collection of orchids of the rarest kinds—indeed, we saw several specimens of the hardier ones in purple and yellow, growing on the trees near the wharf. The twilight of this little open-air conservatory is made darker by the enormous bananas outside, under whose pale greensword-like leaves, cluster such heavy bunches of fruit, fifty or sixty on a single stalk.

Night though closes quickly in, and if we would see the Annamite suburbs we must give rein to our impatient little black steeds and bowl swiftly out into the country, by some fields of brilliant pale green rice, where the monster grey water buffaloes, with branching horns laid backwards, strong and patient, are being driven home from working in them, by coolies, hidden under bamboo hats the size of umbrellas. The marshes have been in a measure drained, but the miasma rises thickly from the rice fields, near which cluster the wretched huts of thatched bamboo.

On we go, now through an avenue entirely composed of the glossy leaved magnolia or another of feathery mimosa, broken only by groves of tufted cocoa palms. Then we reach the military boundary, and returning homewards another way, pass the cemetery where many a Frenchman lies low. Along these shady avenues, deep and cool, we see the walled compounds and overgrown gardens of the bungalows of officers and merchants, of whom about 1700 reside in Saigon. We meet many of them out for their evening drive, flying along in Victorias, to gain as much air as possible. There are many smart-looking officers in white uniforms, with their wives by their side—pale French ladies, but in Parisian fashions. Poor things, they appearsickly and enervated, yet robust compared to the shop-keepers, who look, if they do not say so, as if it was trouble enough to rise on the entrance of a customer, without serving them.

But it should be a great colony. The Governor-General's palace is magnificent—a Versailles, with its long flights of steps and spacious balconies. But his Excellency is always at Hanoi, vainly endeavouring to get things straight in Tonquin. The Cathedral, with its dim aisles and stained glass; the Grecian colonnades of the Palais de Justice; the post-offices; the theatre, with its bi-weekly performances; the Officers' Club, where the punkahs are lyslow waving to and fro in the balconies,—all betoken the great intentions of its founders.

And there are statues of Francis Garnier, the intrepid and disavowed explorer of the way to south-western China, and in the centre of the great boulevard, leading to the Governor's palace, we distinguish a very large stout man on a great pedestal, his stomach far protruding. When we come near, we see whom it represents: Gambetta in the fur coat worn in the balloon whence he escaped from Paris during the siege, to instil life into France, with his outstretched finger pointing in the direction of Tonquin, as in the memorable day when he came to the Chamber, and said, 'Messieurs, au Tonkin!' A dying soldier, in theact of falling, is on one side, and a sailor, with a bayonet peeping round as if in search of the enemy, on the other. The reverse side of this fine monument bears the legend: "À Gambetta, le patriote, défenseur de la politique coloniale."

In the evening some went to the opera, Traviata, played by the subsidized company, to distract the garrison. The sight, however, of the house with its myriad waving fans, was enough for us. We could not face the heat.

What an awful night we passed on board! Four steam winches in charge of seventy shouting French, with ports shut, tropical heat, and mosquitoes by the million. It was over at sunrise like a bad dream. But a sorry sight, the languid heavy-eyed passengers, with not a face but was severely wounded, presented next morning; for none had slept, and all had come off worsted in the conflict with those venomous brutes. Glad we were of daylight to go on shore, and set off in a gharry at seven o'clock to the open arcades where the curio shops are. The black woodwork inlaid with mother-of-pearl that comes from Tonquin is very pretty, but otherwise we only see curiosities common to other countries. We drive past gardens, which, as in France, are unrailed and open to the public, to the market square, with its deep red-roofed market hall, where a busy scene of buying and selling is progressing. We noticemany French cafés, the familiar little marble-topped tables, looking strange among the palm trees of the gardens. There are many French officers, in solar topees and cotton umbrellas, strolling in the streets, but though the French element predominates, there is a wonderful mixture of races—of Chinese, Annamites with their heads bound in red cloths, Cinghalese with high tortoiseshell comb, and Indians in sarong; and the languages are as varied, for here the Chinese and natives have learnt French, instead of pigeon English.

By nine o'clock the sun on the top of the gharry is overpowering. We are quite overcome by the heat, and abandoning all idea of going by the steam tramway to Cholons, the neighbouring emporium of the Rice of Annam, return on board. But at eleven o'clock the thermometer in the shade registered 95° Fahrenheit, and in the sun about 130°, and we lay on the deck ready to succumb to the awful breathless heat, just existing through the long midday hours of the worst part of the day.

The tropical vegetation of Saigon had entranced us, but its charms faded before the experience of this equatorial temperature by which alone it can be produced. We were grateful when at five o'clock the twenty-four hours' sojourn required by the Government contract were over, and we left Cochin China on our homeward voyage.

It is a long, long journey home to England, this one of 10,000 miles from Shanghai to London—lasting for five weeks.

Day after day goes by with the same routine, until we feel that we are automatons. Passengers come and go at the various ports, but "we go on for ever." Night and day there is heard the ceaseless throbbing of the engines, like the beating heart of some great monster. It lulls you to sleep, keeps you company in the silence of the night, and greets you in the morning, and when we are in port, we unconsciously feel that something is wanting. It is a cheering noise, for every revolution of the screw brings us nearer home; 4368 times does it revolve in one hour, and it takes 3,600,000 revolutions to bring us to Marseilles. We consume 52 tons of coal a day, or 1800 tons for the whole voyage, whilst 8000 kilos of oil are used for the machinery.

The ship is like a floating city with a cosmopolitan population, for we have over twenty different nationalities on board: French, English, German, Spanish, Italian, Japanese, Russian, Chinese, Dutch, Austrians, Arabians, Indians, etc., and yet all goes smoothly, save for the passing incident of a passionate Frenchman, who came to ask the captain's permission to fight a duel with an officer from Tonquin, for usurping his place at table.

It is a monotonous thirty-six days of life at sea, alternating with frantic rushes to land, when in port, and sometimes sleeping on shore, where, like at Singapore and Colombo, the ship is hermetically sealed for coaling. Then there is dire confusion on board, everyone loses his head, the stewards are beside themselves, and the organization becomes sadly out of gear. We are thankful to put out to sea once more, into the breeze and calm, to sail away into that great trackless space so well defined "as a circle whose centre is everywhere, and whose circumference nowhere."

We touch at Singapore, and spend the night at Government House, noting the growth of the town, and the great improvements since we were there six years ago. Through the Straits of Malacca, past Acheen Head, the extreme westerly point of Sumatra to Colombo—Colombo with its beautiful sea-shore, where amidst palm groves, the blue breakers of the Indian Ocean are ever rolling in, and casting their surf and foam on the golden sands. Through its tropical avenues we drive, past the barracks, where the pipe of the bagpipes is heard, wailing in their far exile, and the handsome Cingalese merchants, with their checked sarongs and tortoiseshell combs, tempt us with precious stones. Mount Adam, with his pillar-like peak, in the centre of Ceylon, does us honour by showing himself (a rare occurrence) as we put out oncemore to sea, through the magnificent breakwater of Colombo.

Six days' steaming, and we cast anchor under rocky Aden, whose peaks so barren and sterile, are yet picturesquely deformed, and glowing with warm tints of cobalt and carmine. Then we enter the Red Sea, through the Straits of Babelmandeb, by England's key to the Eastern hemisphere, the Island of Perim, and pass fragrant Mocha on the sandy shore.

One hundred hours through this inland sea, and we are at Suez waiting our turn to enter that great highway of nations, that sandy ditch cut through the desert, that connects the eastern with the western globe. In the daytime we have that strange fascination linked to the boundless plain of sand—the mirage flickering on the horizon, the clear pale blue and pink shades that steal over the desert at sundown, with the golden glory of the sunset sinking slowly into the waters of the Bitter Lake, whilst at night the banks of the canal are illuminated by the broad shafts of light, that sweep from the electric lamp in the bows of every ship.

We spend a dreary Sunday at Port Said, amid its dirty streets, rubbishy oriental shops, thievish donkey-boys, and a population which gathers in the scum of the earth.

The Harbour of Alexandria is entered at sunrisenext day, and we look in the dull chill of early morning on its quays and forts, its mosqued domes and windmills, but ere the day is really begun we are on our way joyfully cleaving the waters of the Mediterranean, near, so near home now. The chill winds and the grey atmosphere would make us know we are in Europe once more. The hard even-coloured skies of the East, burning with brazen sun, have been left on the other side of the Canal, and now the skies are full of grey and purple clouds, silver-edged, soft and rounded. The Southern Cross has sunk below the horizon, the brilliant starlight nights, with the purple vault of heaven gemmed with diamond stars, have faded into the past.

Now the snow-clad mountains of Candia or Crete rise up from the ocean above low-lying clouds. Then, the danger of avoiding Charybdis to be wrecked on Scylla safely passed, we thread the green Straits of Messina between the toe of Italy and the Island of Sicily. The smoking cone of Etna is invisible, but the little island volcano of Stromboli shoots forth its black column of lava.

The beacon lighthouses of the Straits of Bonifacio mark out our course between the islands of Sardinia and Corsica. And by the next afternoon the vine-terraced mountains and sunny shores of the Corniche are near at hand, with the white villas of Toulon shining in the sunlight.

The last day on board, the last packing, the last dinner, the last evening. What a pleasant bustle of departure, what a feeling ofbonne camaraderieprevails! With the contagious sympathy of joy, passengers speak to each other who have held aloof for the whole month's voyage. We are all restless and excited, and only able to discuss the hour of arrival—no, not the hour, it is the half-hours and quarters that we dispute and wager about.

The sun goes down. The great white cliffs—for they are very near to us now—loom up ghostly in the dim twilight; these are bathed in pink reflections from the rosy sky. We see the little chapel perched on high, where the sailors implore the protection of the sainted Mary ere commencing a voyage—the gloomy dungeon fortress of Château d'If on its island, and with the last gleams of daylight we sight the green Prado, the cathedral towers of Notre Dame, and the large seaport of Marseilles.

For two days we linger in the sunny south, under blue skies and warm sunshine, amid the palms, cacti, and hedges of roses.

We reach Paris in time to see the gorgeous obsequies at the Madeleine of Dom Pedro, the ex-Emperor of Brazil. Then ends our second journey round the world with a fearful gale in the English Channel, reaching Charing Cross in the raw cold and fog of a December night.

C. E. HOWARD VINCENT, C.B., M.P.

MEMORANDUM

Addressed to the Chamber of Commerce and Manufacture of Sheffield upon British and American Trade in the Dominion of Canada and the McKinley Tariff in the United States.

September, 1891.

Internal Trade.

1.—It is necessary in the first place to state that the internal trade of Canada has made vast progress during the past decade. Not only is this evident from the numerous factories at the principal centres, but it is corroborated by the rapid extension and development of Toronto, Hamilton, Winnipeg and other towns. Manufacture has taken such rapid strides that not only is a very large proportion of the articles in daily use of home make, but the whole of the iron bridges and much of the plant upon the gigantic railway system, and the greater part of the agricultural machinery are of Canadian construction, but there is a surplusage for export of certain manufactured goods, amounting in the fiscal year ending June, 1890, to 5¾ million dollars—upwards of two-fifths of which were purchased by the British flag.

Increase of External Trade.

2.—The external trade (imports and exports) has also increased from 153 million dollars in 1879, when the "National Policy" was inaugurated by the late Right Honourable Sir John Macdonald, to 218 million dollars in the last statistical year.

Imports from the United Kingdom and the Empire.

3.—The imports from the United Kingdom of British and Irish produce have increased from 5,040,524l.in 1879, to 7,702,798l.in 1889.

In the twelve months, July 1st, 1889, to June 30th, 1890, the purchases by Canada from the British Empire amounted to 45¾ million dollars, or only 6½ million dollars less than from the United States with their 60,000,000 of people and conterminous frontier of over 3000 miles, running especially close to the more settled and affluent portions of the Dominion.

This is the more satisfactory when it is considered that less than one-fourth of the British imports were admitted free of a duty averaging 25 per cent. ad valorem, while two-fifths of the American imports were from their nature untaxed.

Competition Between British and American Flags.

4.—The Union Jack upon the one hand, and the Stars and Stripes upon the other, are practically the only two competitors for the custom of Canada, and they absorb between them 98 million dollars worth of the import trade out of a total of 112 million dollars.

Superiority of England.

5.—In most of the great lines of manufactured goods, such as in the manufactures of iron and steel: of cutlery; of cotton and silk; of wool and linen; of lead, paper and fur; of hemp, twine and earthenware, as also in hats, gloves, combs, umbrellas, embroideries, ribbons, crapes, oilcloth, iron furniture, fancy articles, and in bottled ale, beer and porter, England more than holds her own against the American Republic.

Foreign Intermixture.

6.—At the same time it is right to observe that a considerable and increasing proportion of the imports officially attributed to British production were in reality of German, French, or other foreign origin, and this to an amount exceeding last year six million dollars.

They were obtained, however, through English distributing houses instead of direct, partly by reason of transit facilities, but mostly on account of the long credit readily accorded.

Lead of the United States.

7.—The United States on the other hand take the lead with manufactures of brass and copper; of gutta-percha and India-rubber; of slate, stone, and wood; of cork and glass; of leather and tin ware, as also in edge tools, Britannia metal, bells, brushes, buttons, carriages, clocks and watches, jewellery, musical and surgical instruments, and in agricultural implements.

Sheffield Trade in Canada.

8.—In the staple trades of Sheffield, with the exception of edge-tools, the ascendency of England is fairly well maintained.

Cutlery.

9.—Especially is this the case with regard to cutlery. Out of 311,897 dollars (say 62,500l.) worth of table knives, jack knives, pocket knives, and other cutlery imported into the Dominion during the past year, about two-thirds came from the United Kingdom.

Of the remainder the United States supplied 27,900 dollars worth, and Germany 43,500 dollars worth.

Not a few importers of Sheffield cutlery speak anxiously, however, of the growing competition of Newark (New Jersey) and of Germany—especially in the production of attractively got up and elegantly carded knives at low prices.

In Canada itself only one attempt has, I believe, been made to establish a cutlery factory, and this recently at Halifax by a young Sheffield man, assisted by six or eight Sheffield trained artisans. They speak hopefully of their prospects and are meeting with much local encouragement.

Plated Cutlery.

It is right to add that although throughout the Dominion the table cutlery bears the names of the leading Sheffield houses, the more easily cleaned plated cutlery is coming into some use. During the past year 919 dozen were imported, to which the United States contributed 774 dozen and Great Britain only 140.

Files.

10.—In files and rasps the import from England amounted to 34,358 dollars (say 6800l.), and from the United States to 45,724 dollars.

Saws.

11.—In saws the United States made even greater headway with a total consignment amounting to 14,000l., while Great Britain sent scarcely 600l.worth.

Edge Tools.

12.—A like disproportion occurs with regard to edge tools, of which the United States supplied 15,000 dollars worth out of a total external purchase by the Dominion of 18,279 dollars.

This has been explained by the untiring efforts constantly made by American manufacturers and their employés to make all tools more and more adapted for the purpose in view, lighter and more facile to the hand, without the slightest regard to former use, old ideas or customs.

Axes.

13.—It is frequently alleged that Sheffield lost the Canadian axe trade by adherence to the opinion that it was a better judge of the shape of the handle or the chopper than the backwoodsmen whose livelihood depended upon the skilful use of the axe.

This must, however, be legendary, for I am told we never had the Dominion axe trade.

In any case, at the present time nearly all the axes used in the vast lumber industry are of Canadian make, and out of a total import of 6751 dollars worth last year, the whole came from the United States, with the exception of a single axe contributed by France.

Spades and Shovels.

14.—Of spades and shovels 4000 dollars worth were imported from Great Britain against 6259 dollars worth from the United States.

Scythes.

In scythes the two countries each supplied one half of a total import of 6731 dollars worth.

Agricultural Implements.

15.—But in other agricultural implements—ploughs, drills, harrows, forks, rakes, mowing machines, harvesters, etc., America supplied no less than 117,000 dollars worth, against only 4000 dollars worth, from Great Britain.

The explanation given is similar to that I have often heard in Australasia, that the high-priced, solid made, somewhat heavy and durable machines and implements which find favour in England, are unsuitable for Colonists with small capital, who want a cheap, handy and light implement which can be replaced as soon as a year or two brings easier means, and sees improvements perfected.

It is indeed stated in proof of the adoption of like ideas in the mother country that more Ontario-made self-binding reapers have been sold this year in Great Britain than any of English manufacture.

Bar Iron, Pigs, Rails, etc.

16.—It is, however, in bar iron; in boiler or other plate iron; in hoop, band, or scroll iron; in iron, in slabs, blooms, etc.; in iron pigs; in railway bars, rails and fish plates; in rolled iron or steel angles, beams, girders, etc.; in sheet iron, and in wrought iron or steel tubing that the United Kingdom asserts the greatest predominance with an importation last year into Canada amounting to 2,356,523 dollars against 642,129 dollars worth from the United States—that is, nearly fourfold.

At Londonderry in Nova Scotia important rolling mills have been established, and at Toronto and elsewhere in Ontario there are prosperous foundries.

Machinery.

17.—England though falls back again seriously inmachinery, composed wholly or in part of iron, in locomotive, fire, or other engines, and in cast iron vessels, plates, etc., as also in builders', cabinet makers', carriage and harness makers' hardware, and in house furnishing hardware.

In these lines Great Britain supplied Canada with only about 100,000l.worth, compared to 500,000l.from the United States.

In connection with machinery it may not be amiss to mention the almost invariable practice, throughout the American continent, for all machinery under the control either of the State or public bodies being kept spotlessly clean and as attractive as possible, and, in the case of all stationary engines, allowing the public to see them in operation, from a gallery or other suitable place, so that humble mechanical genius may feast its eyes, and think out problems or improvements, which may advance their authors to wealth, and place further names upon the roll of the world's inventors.

Electro-Plate and Britannia Metal.

18.—In electro-plated ware and gilt ware of all kinds the import from Great Britain amounted last year to 51,041 dollars, and to 98,669 dollars from the United States, while in manufactures of Britannia metal (not plated) the importation from America amounted to 40,000 dollars, or eight times that from Great Britain.

Predominance of British Manufactures of Cotton and Wool.

19.—It is not necessary to examine in like detail the relative trade in the Dominion of Great Britain and the United States in the manufactures which are not located in Sheffield. But it may be mentioned that the purchases by Canada of British cotton goods exceeded three million dollars last year against one-fifth that amount from the United States, in velveteens exceeded 82,000 dollars from Britain against only 356 dollars from America: while the sale to Canadians of British manufactures of wool were over ten million dollars, or too times that of the States.

The Empire, Canada's best Customer.

20.—While, as has been shown, Canada bought last yearof Great Britain and Ireland, and British possessions, to an amount exceeding forty-five millions of dollars, the Empire was in return the best customer of the Dominion, purchasing no less than 44,479,992 dollars worth of Canadian products, or 11,156,785 dollars worth more than the United States, and admitting nearly the whole free of all duty.

Preferential Trade within the Empire.

21.—It is hardly to be expected that Canada, with her scanty and hard-working population could, with the example of every nation or colony (save one) before her, attempt to raise by direct taxation the twenty-four million dollars of public revenue she now derives from customs duties.

But there can be little doubt that if a preference was obtained for British over foreign goods in the tariff, it would give just that pecuniary advantage calculated to stimulate the undoubted partiality of most British colonists for British made goods, if they themselves are unable to produce them in adequate quantity.

Such preferential trade, large public meetings I have recently addressed in all the principal commercial centres, on behalf of the United Empire Trade League, have declared with practical unanimity and much support from both political parties, that Canada is willing to exchange with the mother country and the Empire, so soon as foreign treaty hindrances (treaties with Belgium and Germany of 1862 and 1865) are removed—it being calculated that no policy would more certainly advance the prosperity, peopling and capitalization of the whole country and the consequent augmentation of customers.

Means of Commercial Negotiation.

22.—No more effective means either could probably be found to bring about that reduction of the United States tariff wall, so much desired both by the Dominion of Canada and the mother country, for it would furnish her Majesty's representatives with a weapon of commercial persuasion they now wholly lack in negotiating with foreign countries.

Effect of the McKinley Tariff.

23.—It may be too early perhaps to judge definitely as to the effect of the McKinley tariff upon British trade in the United States, There can, however, be no doubt that inmany industries, and especially among the receivers of wages in the United Kingdom, it will be very serious, and tend still further to extend the disproportion between the sales of America to Great Britain and the purchases by America of British goods, which have stood for some time in the adverse ratio of three to one.

Much Change not to be expected.

24.—It is necessary, therefore, to say that while the organs of the democratic party in the United States and the sanguine views of American importers who are in personal or correspondence relations with England, encourage a hope that the McKinley tariff will be repealed or considerably modified in the near future, I am convinced that, as matters stand, such belief is to a great extent delusive.

In the first place the democratic majority in the House of Representatives, as at present constituted, is practically powerless in the face of a strong and hostile Senate, with an equal mandate from the people, and in the face too of an antagonistic President, to a great extent independent of either, with all his Ministers and machinery of government.

In the second place democratic leaders and advocates in every locality are eager to protest that they do not now desire free trade, do not dream of admitting duty free the productions of competing foreign workmen, and that they aim only at a reduction of the tariff.

Again, it is now well understood that the alleged rise in prices at the time of the election last year for Congress was artificial and impressed upon voters by skilful wire-pulling—such as the hiring of itinerant pedlars to perambulate the agricultural districts with household wares marked up at double cost; by urging democratic retail dealers to serve their party (and their tills) by demanding greatly increased sums for all goods during the campaign "in consequence of the new tariff."

Industrial Prosperity in the United States.

25.—There appears to be little doubt that the Federal Commission now sitting will find that, although in some districts there may have been speculating failures, employment was never upon the whole more plentiful or better remunerated than at the present time. As in Canada so in the United States, it is work which is everywhere seeking hands—and not, as with us, men searching, too often vainly, for employment.

On both sides of the border between Canada and the United States the necessaries of life—wheat, flour, bread, meat, are extraordinarily cheap and excellent, while artisan clothing, so often reputed dear and pressing upon the family purse, is readily obtainable, so old Sheffield men have assured me, in very fair quality at from 8 dollars 50 cents. to 12 or 14 dollars per suit, that is 1l.14s.to 2l.16s.Indeed, before me is the advertisement of a New York house offering "Jersey Cloth (silk finish, new), blue, black or brown, per suit 14 dollars, quality XXX."

Beyond question the whole standard of industrial life is higher than in Europe—higher too, I am sorry to have to admit, than in Great Britain. Neither poverty nor distress are visible, while drunkenness, so far as it may exist, is kept carefully out of sight.

American Reciprocity Treaties.

26.—It will be probably less, however, on the industrial prosperity of American workers, on the success of the high tariff in compelling competitors for the custom of the American people, to employ their capital within the United States, to pay wages to Americans, and use American materials, that the Republican party will appeal next year for a new Presidential lease of power (with what chance of success I do not pretend to prophecy), than upon the unexpected triumph that has attended Section III., or the Reciprocity clause of the McKinley Tariff Act in the hands of Mr. Secretary Blaine.

Already under its provisions free entry for American productions and manufactures has been secured into Brazil—a market taking in 1889 6,232,316l.worth of British goods—in exchange for the free entry of the raw materials and other commodities of that Republic so rich in natural wealth.

The same result has been achieved, and will shortly come into force with regard to Spanish possessions, taking together 8,000,000l.worth of British products every year.

To break up British Trade.

27.—This latter treaty is viewed with especial concern in Canada, and the notice of terminating the Anglo-Spanish treaty of commerce which has been given, gives rise to a fearthat the Americans will secure the trade with the Spanish Indies heretofore enjoyed by the Dominion.

Both treaties will also very injuriously affect the interests of the fishermen of Newfoundland, who among the Catholic population of Brazil and the territories of Spain seek the principal market for that dried fish, the sale of which, until improved fish trade and other mercantile relations are established with England, as they might easily be, constitutes their principal means of existence.

A like treaty has been concluded with San Domingo, and others are in active negotiation.

The vaunted object is "the breaking up piece-meal of British foreign trade," and whether or no it obtains that aim, the untoward influence these treaties, placing American trade upon a preferential basis, are calculated to exert in that direction, is not, I fear, a circumstance well calculated to induce the masses of the American people, in their present frame of mind, very speedily to destroy the instrument.

Effect of British Inaction.

28.—It is a paramount duty to direct the attention of the Sheffield Chamber of Manufacture, as a body representative of the commercial and industrial community of Great Britain and Ireland, to this practical aspect of the present situation, lest buoyed up by a vain hope that the markets of the United States will be thrown open, England allows all opportunity to pass of following the example of America and Central Europe in establishing preferential trading relations on mutually advantageous terms. A commercial union richer in its prospects than any attainable by whatever phalanx of foreign nations, lies now, but not for much longer, ready to her hand—that of the British Empire, of a fifth of the entire world, peopled or fostered by her own people, capitalized by her own capital.

Inaction much longer maintained on the part of the mother country will be ascribed by the energetic minds of Greater Britain to callous indifference to Imperial responsibilities, and can have no other effect than to expose Canada, Newfoundland, the West Indies, British Guiana and British Honduras, aggregating not much short of half the area of the Empire, and not impossibly other Colonies, to the temptation of entering instead into commercial alliance with the United States, involving discrimination in favour of foreigners against the British flag, which even the loyalty of the most loyal Colonial subjects of her Majesty the Queenmay not, with due regard to their material interests, be able to resist.

American Pioneers of Commerce.

29.—But in any event I must note the amazing energy and push shown by American business houses. On every journey in nearly every quarter of the globe you meet their representatives, who lose no opportunity of skilfully advancing American trade; and while Germany, backed by a vigilant Government, is following closely in the same direction with astonishing results, the reports of her Majesty's Consular officers agree in declaring that the appearance of an English commercial traveller becomes more and more rare.

Boards of Trade.

30.—American Boards of Trade, corresponding to our Chambers of Commerce, are also very active organizations, sparing neither expense nor trouble.

They occupy a like position in Canada, and in Toronto the Board of Trade—an enthusiastic meeting whereof I had the honour of addressing—has erected a palatial building, where business men meet daily for the mutual exchange of information and views. The turn of the market is recorded from hour to hour from the centres of commerce, and among the members there exists an admirable system of mutual life insurance.

Canada as a Field for British Capital and Immigration.

31.—In conclusion, it is hardly possible to speak of Canada in exaggerated terms as a source from which Great Britain may most readily obtain the larger portion of the supply of corn, meat, and dairy produce, her increased population and diminished agriculture oblige her to purchase from over the sea.

The extremely fertile and virgin soil of the vast region occupied by Manitoba, the North-West Territories, and British Columbia—half the size of Europe, and lying between Lake Superior and the Pacific Ocean—has now been provided by British Canadian enterprise with a complete network of railways, bringing it, so soon as Atlantic communication by Nova Scotia and Newfoundland has been improved, to within fourteen days' steam of Liverpool.

Capital and immigration are alone needed for their development.

A better field for the former could not be found if British Commercial Union made the market secure of foreign caprice, while for steady industry under the old flag, under like institutions, under the same law, no wider scope exists in the universe.

MEMORANDUM

ADDRESSED TO THE CUTLERS' COMPANY OF HALLAMSHIRE, UPON

British Trade with Japan.

Progress of Japan.

1.—Little idea can be formed of the progress and development of Japan without a personal visit. That the Japanese Empire should have been brought in less than a quarter of a century from barbaric darkness and isolation to a leading place in the civilized world, is not the least remarkable event of the present generation. The fact that this great revolution has been accomplished without the pressure of external war, and practically without internal riot or bloodshed, renders it the more extraordinary.

Some may affect to prefer the old order of things, may think that the transition has been dangerously rapid, may sneer at the wonderful adaptive faculty displayed. This is, however, certain, that in good order and sobriety, in cleanliness and politeness, in industry and contentment, the Japanese are already in the van of nations.

The police, postal, telegraphic, and educational systems are tributes to their capacity, while over 1400 miles of railway are being efficiently worked by native employés.

Care and caution will be undoubtedly very necessary for many years to come. But if reliance upon indigenous talent, and the new law that Japanese industrial undertakings must be represented by Japanese, are not carried to an extravagant point, the next decade or two may see the vast reforms not only matured, but carried onwards to a summit undreamt of, when, in 1868, the country was released from the chainsof ages; or even when a score of years later his present Imperial Majesty, the 121st Mikado and Emperor of his race, voluntarily gave the nation one of the clearest constitutions in existence "in consideration of the progressive tendency of the course of human affairs and in parallel with the advance of civilization."

Concurrent Growth of British Interests.

2.—There is nothing more striking in this transformation than the constant growth of British interests in the Empire, with which it has been attended.

Illustrated by large numbers of British Residents and Mercantile Firms and proportion of Trade and Shipping.

This is clearly illustrated by the following notable facts:—

(a) That British residents, numbering 1500 souls, of which two-thirds are males, equal numerically the representatives in Japan of the whole of the rest of the world, excluding the adjacent Chinese.

(b) That a like state of affairs exists with regard not only to the number of foreign mercantile firms, located in Japan, but also in the proportion borne by the British flag of the external trade.

(c) That since 1868, the first year of the new Japanese era, British shipping in the waters of Japan has, according to the calculation of her Majesty's Consul at Kobé, increased threefold in number and fifteenfold in tonnage. It carried last year two-thirds of the (extra Chinese) foreign trade, and 71 per cent. of the whole, in over 1000 ships inwards and outwards, giving employment to more than 25,000 persons, and this notwithstanding the harassing exclusion of foreign vessels from any share in the large coasting trade between other than the six open ports.

Volume of Japanese External Trade.

3.—The external trade (imports and exports) of Japan has more than doubled in the past ten years. It amounted in 1890 to 138¼ millions of silver yen or dollars[2](say 21,000,000l.sterling) against 62¼ million yens in 1881. The exports, of which the British Empire took nearly a third, amounted to 54¾ million dollars; the imports to 81¾ millions.

The Foreign Element as a Source of Wealth to Japan.

4.—The financial value to the Empire of the foreign commercial houses is shown by the passage, through their agency, of 110 million dollars worth of the total external trade.

There is in addition the expenditure of many thousands of foreign visitors to the natural beauties of the country—of which 70 per cent. are calculated by Mr. Gubbins, secretary for Japanese to Her Majesty's Legation, to be British,—a sum estimated at an extreme minimum of three million dollars a year, or about 500,000l.

The Passport System and Disability of Foreigners.

There is hope that these important considerations may lead ere long to a modification of the stringent passport regulations, and of the disability attaching to the alien tenure of real estate, hindering as it must do the permanent investment of capital.

Proportion of External Trade with several Foreign Countries.

5.—Foreign countries shared or divided in 1890 the external trade of Japan in the following proportions:—

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