It is almost to be regretted that the English should have consented to treat with the enemy, and given up this fort, when they had the whole city at their feet, and could have given these treacherous, malignant, cruel, dictatorial, self-conceited, vain people, a lesson in enlightenment, which would have lasted them a long time, and procured a little more deference for the “rest of mankind.”
Descending from here we had a sight of an old mosque, and also of a dead-house, where the Chinese frequently allow their deceased relatives to remain for six months at a time, until their bonzes shall designate some _lucky_ spot in which, in their trunk-of-tree-looking coffin, they may be buried. In a hill-side cemetery we saw persons worshipping at the tombs of their relatives, and burning joss-paper; also noticed a Chinese funeral, the mourners in white. We returned by the western suburbs, and after stopping a while to take a look at the oil-mongers’ hall—each calling in Canton having a similar building—a kind of ’change, we elbowed our way to the hongs which we reached about three o’clock, having left them at ten in the morning, during the whole of which time, Mr. Bonney, while very polite in his attentions and explanations to us, like one properly imbued with the spirit of his mission, as he is, distributed his “Yesoo” or Christian tracts to those whom he would first ascertain, could read them in Chinese, being nearly the only medium by which it may be hoped to introduce Christianity into that country.
A jaunt around the walls of Canton one is glad _to have_ taken; you are subjected to annoyances and names, if not violence. Some called after us, “Kill them as the brute,” and others made sign of throat-cutting, mostly young people, who were reproved by Mr. Bonney in their language, still it was best to keep on at a brisk pace, and obey fully the injunction given to Lot’s wife. This was discreet. We escaped a shower of the missiles with which those who adventure the tramp are sometimes saluted; two only being thrown at us, one, not very large, taking me back of the neck, and the other falling between one of my companions and myself.
In the evening we crossed the river and paid a visit to the pagan temple of Honan, that large structure, where the disciples of Buddha worship him with his three faces, representing the past, present, and future. The buildings of this temple cover a space of thirty-five acres, and an orange-garden, and place for burying the deceased priests and the wealthy dead, fifteen acres more. The main building, whose approach is under a noble growth of banyan-trees, is over, one hundred feet square, filled with colossal demon images of wood and gilt, who keep off evil spirits, together with twenty-four gods of pity. The number of priests is between one and two hundred, all eating at the same table, though vegetables and rice supply the place of black broth. Then they show their porcine affinity; having there the sacred pigs—so fat that their eyes may not be seen, and who are fattened till they die. The time of our visit was after sundown. We visited the apartments of the abbot of the establishment, who was evidently just recovering from the effects of opium. This old fellow, once almost felt persuaded to become a Christian; that is, he almost made up his mind to come to the Christian country of the United States, but his infirmity and the dislike to leave a certain support for the balance of his days, prevented it. To say that he would have been willing to change his creed, would be almost a negation of terms. What religious creed has a Chinaman? If any, it is a bundle of negatives. He thinks nothing in such a connection: he believes nothing. How can you change him from a position, when you do not know where he stands? how can you change his belief when he has none? You had as well beat the air.