CHAP. VI. CHINA, ITS LAWS, CUSTOMS, AND PEOPLE.

The Albatross was just entering the Chinese sea, and making way in gallant style through the heavy waves. Her crew were numerous, and of picked men, chosen at the different ports at which the ship had touched since her departure from the pirates’ haunt on the Madagascar coast, by the experienced judgment of Captain Hearty. Several promotions had taken place among the old hands. Climberkin, who had distinguished himself on many occasions as a brave and skilful seaman, became second in command. Boggle, though liable to confuse his understanding with abstract speculations, was always to be depended upon in an emergency, and was honest, persevering, and well acquainted with the management of a ship at sea, and he was made second lieutenant. Loop was created a midshipman. Oriel Porphyry had offered to settle Ardent in comfortable circumstances in his native country; but he stated that having lost all that made dear to him the land of his birth, and having found so many kind friends on board the Albatross, he should prefer remaining in the vessel in any capacity in which he could be of service, and as he was known to be well qualified for the office, to him were assigned the duties of purser and captain’s clerk. As for Roly Poly, the offer of an empire would not have induced him to resign the custody of the roast and boiled; and he therefore continued absolute and undisputed sovereign of the cook-house. He seemed to be getting fatter every day. His back appeared to bend beneath the load of flesh it carried, and his huge black cheeks had become so large as to threaten to close up his eyes. To gain his good opinion, nothing was necessary but to praise his cookery; but as soon as any poor fellow attempted to find fault with the viands, or the way in which they were dressed, the abuse he received for what was considered his presumption and ignorance, made him glad to make his peace with the indignant cook upon any terms. For all this Roly Poly was held in much estimation by his shipmates. The important service he rendered with his mop was not forgotten; and though he was continually relating in a manner peculiarly his own, the way in which he had served out “dat ignorant jackmorass who sulted him by telling diclus impossumbilities,” the story was invariably received with the same hearty laugh and boisterous praise that marked the first hearing.

Although the manners of Captain Hearty and his officers were rather unpolished, the education which was common to all Columbians, and the experience they had gained in their profession, made them perfectly qualified to fulfil the duties they had undertaken; and the ship was as skilfully navigated, as if under the superintendence of the most gentlemanly officers in the service. As has before been stated, the commercial character of the Albatross had been changed by skilful hands for one of a more threatening aspect, nor was the alteration at all displeasing to the taste of Oriel. The only pleasure he seemed to enjoy with any zest, was in seeing the men exercised at the guns, practising at a mark, or engaged in improving themselves in the use of the broadsword; and in these pursuits he would join with intense interest, encouraging those who seemed anxious to excel, and rewarding those who evinced the most skill. His satisfaction at the arming of the vessel was increased when he considered the possibility of being attacked by pirates in the different seas that lay in the ship’s course, who might easily, as Captain Death and his associates had done, have made themselves masters of the Albatross; but who would now find it a matter very difficult to be accomplished.

“Come Zabra, I am plagued to death by my own thoughts. Cheer me with a song:” said Oriel Porphyry to his young friend as they sat together in the cabin.

“That you shall have, Oriel,” replied the handsome musician, as his hand ran lightly over the chords of the harp; “and I will try to humour your martial feelings to keep you in good temper with yourself. Listen to

“THE SONG OF THE HERO TO HIS SWORD.

“By all that’s glorious, ’tis a noble strain!” exclaimed Oriel, while his brilliant eyes flashed with excitement; “a strain fit to stir the heart to noble deeds. I feel my soul thrilled with an heroic spirit that would do battle even with the fierce enemy—Death! Give me a fair field and a good cause—a band of warlike brothers moved by the same mighty impulse as that by which I am now excited—and let us have fit weapons and enough of them, and we would sweep the oppressors of the world from the earth, like rotten reeds before a whirlwind. Wisely did the ancients honour their bards above all human greatness. Well was it that they gave them precedence and dignity and wealth in abundance—the gold chain round the neck, and the seat of honour near the throne. If they possessed but the power you have evinced, they were worthy of the first place and the richest gifts: for they must have been the leading spirits of the age—the movers of armies—the winners of triumph. What nature, with the common energies of manhood, could resist such a stimulus? Stone walls, the crushing iron, and the penetrating steel—would these be as obstacles in its way? Straws! Had I lived in those days, the leader of a warlike generation, and heard a song such as you have sung, I should have felt inclined to have exalted the bard above my own dignity, knowing that his influence upon the dispositions over which I ruled could be rendered far more effective for the purposes that gave me supremacy, than my own.”

“I expected it would move you in some measure,” said Zabra, gazing with affectionate interest upon the flushed cheek of his patron.

“Move me! would a mælstrom move me?” cried the young merchant. “It seems to have stirred the sluggish blood in every hidden vein and artery. My brain throbs as if it would move up the scalp in which it is confined, and the pulsations of my heart appear to have acquired the action of a boiling torrent.”

“I am afraid I have done mischief,” observed the musician anxiously; “I did not count upon producing so violent an effect. Let me undo the evil I have created by singing to you some lyric of an opposite tendency.”

“Where got you this power?” asked his companion, fixing a searching glance upon the lustrous eyes before him. “By what means gained you the rare art which you practise with such wondrous effect? Your’s is no common skill for the ignorant to admire; it is an influence which the most tutored in worldly wisdom must feel and worship. You never could have gained it while employed in the laborious idleness of a page. You are too young to have acquired it by study. What mystery is this you have gathered around you which gives you such a mastery over the affections of your associates?”

A slight tremor passed over the graceful form of the young musician: his eyes shrunk before the earnest gaze of Oriel Porphyry, and, shaded by their long dark lashes, were fixed upon the floor.

“I will tell you;” said he at length. “Although great care was taken with my education, from a very early age I was left much to my own inclinations; and being gifted with an extraordinary love for knowledge, and a rare facility in its acquirement, and a powerful tendency towards that knowledge which was most ennobling, I rapidly obtained a degree of intelligence which was rarely found even in a more mature period of life. There were two particular objects of study to which I for years dedicated an intense degree of attention: these were music and poetry. Music was a source of the most exquisite gratification to me at all times, and I applied diligently to make myself master of all its difficulties. In this, after constant application, superintended by the best masters, I succeeded, so as to be able to create at pleasure any effect I was desirous of producing. In the study of poetry I had no teachers, excepting the only teacher capable of giving instruction—Nature. I went amid the stir of leaves in the heart of the primeval forest; I stood beneath the dazzling glances of the countless eyes of heaven; I looked down upon the waters of the great deep, till I knew how to interpret its mighty voices; and the whisper of the wind to the blushing flower became to me a lesson full of an exquisite and impressive eloquence. There was not a sound in the air—a light upon the skies—a splendour on the earth—or a motion in the sea, that did not assist me in my study; for there were beauty and truth and power; and these are the constituents of all natural poetry. But there was something still wanting to breathe the spirit of life into the new conceptions that had been created in my nature. This I found; and from that time there has been a gladness in what I knew, and a purpose in what I did. Now let me remove the too powerful impression I have produced, by something more in accordance with my own sympathies. You shall hear ‘The Poet’s Song to his Mistress.’”

A symphony, full of the most touching interest, preceded a melody so impassioned, yet so sweet in its expression, and harmonised in so rich and masterly a manner, that the young merchant had soon all his faculties engaged in deep and earnest attention.

At the conclusion of this song, which Zabra sang with a thrilling pathos which must have reached the heart of his auditor, the two friends were interrupted by a message from the captain, to acquaint Oriel that a pilot had come on board to conduct the vessel up the river to Canton; and that if he wished to observe the Chinese coast, there was now an excellent opportunity. All thought of poetry and music seemed forgotten for the time; for the musician and the young merchant immediately hastened upon deck.

The Albatross was passing Macao, and steering her course towards Whampoa; and a group were on the quarter-deck noticing the appearance of the country, the junks and other strange vessels they were passing, and making observations upon what they saw.

“We are approaching a people,” said Fortyfolios, “who, if they are not the most ancient that exist, lay claim to an antiquity of which few could boast. They are the most extraordinary race on the globe, and the most unchangeable in their habits. Though they preceded the rest of the world in the march of civilisation; though they invented the arts of printing, and of manufacturing silk fabrics and porcelain goods; though they discovered the composition of gunpowder and the use of the magnetic compass; they have never progressed beyond these advances. Thousands of years have passed—nations that were not then in existence, in intelligence have left them far behind—and still they remain exactly as they were, and are not only indifferent to the improvements around them, but look upon all other nations as barbarians unworthy of their association. In vain have they been conquered: conquest could make no change in their habits or opinions. Among the most celebrated of their masters were the Manchews, a people doubtless so called from their attachment to cannibalism, by whom they were held in subjection for several centuries; and the English, who made a conquest of their empire when in the zenith of their greatness. Their subjugation by the latter was caused by their own pride and insolence. The Chinese were so impressed with an opinion of their own superior greatness, that they behaved to all foreigners who visited their shores for the purposes of traffic with humiliating insolence. They were only allowed to trade at one port, their merchandise was subjected to the most arbitrary duties, and their merchants were treated with every kind of insult. This was borne for a considerable period by the mercantile world, in consideration of the importance of their commerce, and the impossibility of finding their exports in other countries. But toleration only increased the audacity of the Chinese authorities. They proceeded to acts of violence: several vessels were plundered, and their crews were murdered, or carried away, and never heard of after. At last the English, having endured this treatment without being able to procure the slightest redress, determined on retaliation. From their possessions in India they invaded the Chinese territory with a powerful army, and at the same time ravaged their coasts with a naval armament that destroyed their shipping, plundered their towns, and laid their defences in ashes. The Chinese, as cowardly as they had been insolent, though possessed of an immense population and extraordinary resources, made but a feeble resistance, and were glad to purchase peace upon any terms they could make; but the English had discovered the weakness of their enemy, and had not forgotten the oppressions they had endured, and did not desist from the conflict till they had annexed the mighty empire of China to their immense dominions in India.”

“All very true,” added Tourniquet. “They were ignorant, bigoted, and slavish, but for all that they were the most prosperous nation under the sun, don’t you see.”

“Their prosperity was occasioned by the laws by which they were governed,” said the professor. “Industry was encouraged. Agriculture was pursued as the most honourable occupation, as one in which the emperor delighted; and obedience was inculcated as the first duty of a citizen.”

“But what was the spirit of their laws?” inquired Oriel Porphyry.

“Every father of a family was despotic in his own household: the emperor was regarded by his subjects with the same reverence that a family looked up to its domestic ruler; and an offence against the monarch was punished in a similar manner as an offence against the parent;” replied Fortyfolios.

“I can imagine no state of things so arbitrary and so contrary to common sense, don’t you see;” observed the doctor. “By such a law, whether a man be a drunkard or a profligate, a fool or a knave, he has unlimited supremacy over his offspring; he can punish with death when he pleases, and the poor wretches who acknowledge his relationship, dare not murmur. He is a father; and fatherhood, like charity, covereth a multitude of sins. There is nothing so ridiculous as this notion. No individual in the great family of nature is entitled to the slightest respect, unless he is respectable in his conduct. All relationship is an accident. A father has no right to the obedience of his child, because he is his father: that can only be the most absurd of claims; for he produced the child to please himself, and at the time could have no sympathy towards an object that was not in existence.”

“That cannot be disputed;” replied the professor. “But I must maintain, that obedience in a child, to a reasonable extent, ought to exist as a natural consequence of the care and anxiety of parentage.”

“Granted, with the limitations;” said the surgeon. “When a father brings up his child with a proper affection, affection from the offspring ought to be expected; but in no case has the parent a right to implicit obedience, unless he has so acted, and the law he wishes to make absolute is such as will not affect the welfare of the child. In many instances the son possesses more intelligence than the father; and yet, if parental subjugation were allowed, the wise must be held in subjection by the opinion of the ignorant.”

“I should imagine such a form of government likely to be very ancient;” observed Oriel.

“It is unquestionably of great antiquity, and derived from the patriarchal ages, when the oldest member of the family held supreme authority over the rest;” responded Fortyfolios.

“About as much as the ocean has originated from the drops of rain that fell from the sky, don’t you see;” added the doctor.

“I maintain that the progenitors of the Chinese were a nomadic race;” said the professor rather sharply.

“Granted; and what then?” inquired the surgeon, in his usual good-humoured manner.

“That they were a collection of single families,” continued Fortyfolios.

“So are all nations at the present time, don’t you see;” remarked the doctor.

“Not in the manner which existed at the age to which I allude;” rejoined his antagonist. “Every man dwelt in his own tent, surrounded by his children and his children’s children, and wandered with his herds and flocks, to wherever he could find them sufficient pasturage. He governed as a monarch with power of life and death, and the rules he found necessary to preserve his government he transmitted to his successor; till, the family increasing, it was found necessary that they should separate into distinct divisions, each having its own father or ruler, and, residing for mutual protection near each other, they constituted tribes. The rules, which the experience of the first father had found necessary for maintaining his authority, had been conveyed with modifications and additions through his successors, till they became possessed by the elders of the tribe, in whom all wisdom and government resided; until the increase of their numbers, and the want of sufficient accommodation, induced them to invade the more desirable territory of other tribes; and then it was that he who distinguished himself most in this warfare obtained supremacy over the rest, and having conquered other tribes, and rendered himself by his superior bravery the object of fear and admiration, he became king of all the people who acknowledged his rule, and governed them by the laws that had existed previously in his own particular family or tribe.”

“A very plausible hypothesis, but nothing more, don’t you see;” replied the doctor. “Doubtless all societies originated in one family, the supreme head of which did what he thought fit; but I doubt much whether he exercised such an authority as could sacrifice a life for an offence real or imaginary; or created any code of laws for the government of his relations. He did only what he thought necessary for the time; and whether that constituted a precedent or not, it is not easy to determine. The punishment which would be necessary at one time, might not be thought necessary at another, don’t you see. Where the judge is absolute, and has no constitution to guide him, it is the mood in which he may be when called upon to judge, that makes the sentence severe or mild; and every judge, being independent of any higher authority, and liable to act from prejudice or partiality, would create nothing but inconsistent decisions, which could never be tolerated as a code of laws. It is opinion that creates law. The heterogeneous mass of absurdities that the few promulgate to hold the many in subjection would not be tolerated except in a state of perfect slavery. Where there is any intelligence among the people, and intelligence must make its appearance sooner or later, every law that is found existing passes the ordeal of public opinion, and if it be unwise or unjust, it will not be regarded or its abrogation will be enforced. The multitude have a better notion of the difference between right and wrong, than is generally supposed; and nothing is so productive of a clearness of distinction in these things among the people than a proper simplicity and applicability of the laws by which they are governed. It is intelligence that produces opinion, don’t you see—and opinion that creates law—and law cannot long exist in opposition to opinion.”

While the disputants were intently engaged in their argument, Oriel Porphyry and Zabra had walked to another part of the deck, where the captain and his lieutenant were giving orders about the management of the vessel.

“Fine old country, this, captain;” said the young merchant.

“Yes, sir,” replied Hearty: “fine old country, certainly. They do say it’s as old as Methusalem; but I never was in sight o’ that coast, therefore can’t say what difference there may be between ’em.”

“You have been in this part of the world before, I should suppose?” inquired Oriel.

“Many times,” responded the old man: “I knows the place well. I’ve been afloat ever since I was a small craft as could hardly steer without capsizing; and there arn’t many seas in the world as I haven’t been over. John Chinaman and I are ’ticular acquaintances, because I’ve seen a good deal on him. He’s rather smart in his own notions o’ himself, but he makes a good reefer when aboard, and he’ll carry like a steam engine when ashore. Often when I’ve landed at this port from one or other o’ your father’s ships, I’ve seen him bearing sich loads as ’ould make a horse’s back bone unkimmen ticklish. We’re enterin’ the river now; and after sailing a few points west of north, we shall be nigh upon the first bar, from whence we must steer due west to Whampoa, where we shall cast anchor. You’ll have then to go about ten miles to the Factories, to which you must proceed in boats.”

“What strange looking ships these are;” remarked Zabra, pointing to several vessels they were passing.

“Ay, they are very queer shaped craft,” said the captain. “But John Chinaman’s no great shakes at ship-buildin’, although he thinks he’s wonderful. Look at that heavy lumbering junk. She looks like a great thick-headed old muff, as does’n’t know his helm from his taffrail. The Albatross would take the conceit out o’ her in no time. And look at these here outlandish looking barges—there’s no sense in ’em.”

“The country has rather an interesting character;” observed Oriel.

“It’s all accordin’ to taste,” replied Hearty.

“These here islands o’ sand ar’nt ’ticularly lovely to my thinking; and I can’t abide the ugliness o’ the craft.”

“In what manner do these people now behave to foreigners?” inquired Zabra.

“Why it ar’nt quite so bad as what I’ve read on in ancient history;” said the captain. “They’ve had a sick’ner for coming that sort o’ fun; but they coil up their noses pretty stiffish even now. They allow travellers to wander about and examine their notables, which they did’nt use to do; but I should recommend any fellow, who’s more nor ordinary ’quisitive, to look out for squalls. I have heard say as people ha’ been missed who was axing their way through the country; and not a spar or a bolt-rope on ’em ever heard on again.”

“About five years ago I was in this here part o’ the world,” said Climberkin, joining in the conversation; “and I had a very narrow escape o’ bein’ done for in that fashion. I was bo’sun aboard the Whittington, a reg’lar tip top merchantman, as Master Porphyry had in the China trade at that time, and after a wearisome cruise I had been jollificating up the country with a few mates, when I came alongside as smart a piece o’ China ware as ever I clapped my eyes on. Well, she did’nt understand none o’ my lingo, and I could’nt circumnavigate any o’ her’n; but we had signals flying at our eyes like winkin’, and we pretty soon heaved to, and were yard arm and yard arm, and looked at each other till all was blue again. I discovered that she belonged to the crew o’ a man-tea-maker’s ’stablishment, and got her livin’ pretty comfortable, by alays ’turnin’ over a new leaf (though she never did nuffin wrong to sinnify); and so I thought as how if that was the way o’ sailin’, I might bring her to book wi’ her own leave, without any botheration whatsomdever. Just as I was making way in the business, I received a ’munication from one o’ my mates, who was up to their lingo, that some half a dozen o’ the Chinamen with whom she ’sociated, were on a reg’lar take in about my consortin’ wi’ her, and had entered into a ’spiracy to nail down the hatches on my goings on. Me and my little frigate were in the habit o’ cruisin’ in a grove o’ prime timber, by the side o’ a rice field, and it was here-about’s that the man-tea-makers thought o’ dishing me as strong as could be; but I took care that they should meet wi’ a mighty difference. After preparin’ every thin’ as was necessary, I got my mates to lie in ambush, and began a courtin’ a way in a style as would make the jealousy rise out o’ a dead nigger. I had’nt been long at this here fun, when up comes the whole lot on ’em screechin’ like mad, and they bears down upon me threatenin’ the most completest spiflification as you can imagine. Their eyes flared up most immensely. Their teeth seemed playing at knives to grind; and they whirled about monstrous bludgeons that would have made no bones o’ me, had I suffered ’em to scrape my acquaintance. My cretur struck her flag and down she went; but before the teapots came to close quarters, I put my bo’sun’s whistle into play; and pulled out a pair of ‘do-for-you’s,’ as my mates coming up and showing the same signs o’ welcome, surrounded the poor devils in such a way as they could’nt move no how.”

“And what did you do with your rivals?” inquired Oriel, considerably amused by the lieutenant’s narrative.

“Why, I’d al’ays heard it recommended to do as you’d be done by,” replied Climberkin; “so we got the sticks from the Chinamen, and took the flavour out on ’em in a manner as left ’em nuffin to complain of. But we wern’t satisfied with such an act o’ justice. You must know that each o’ these tea-dealers has a tail to his head, from two to three feet long, o’ which he is as proud as is a peacock o’ his tail, and shaves all the rest o’ his cranium as smooth as glass. Knowin’ this, we’d brought lots o’ rosin and twine; and, while some o’ our chaps made ’em lump it if they didn’t like it most considerably, we spliced them all together from the small ends down’ards, for several inches, strong and tight as a patent cable; then, seeing a tree close at hand with the loveliest fork possible for our purpose, we hauled ’em up wi’ ropes over the branch till half on ’em hung on one side and half on the tother, by nuffin in the world but their own precious tails. Didn’t they raise a bit of a shindy! Such howlin’, such squallin’—such kickin’, such scratchin’—such a reg’lar rowdy-dow no set o’ humans ever made afore. And there we left ’em, as the ancient poet says, wi’ each partic’lar hair standin’ on end, while we crowded all sail to our own ship.”

“It was rather too bad of you, lieutenant,” said the merchant’s son, attempting unsuccessfully to look grave; “and I wonder you did not get yourself into trouble in consequence.”

“Why it did raise a smartish bit o’ a bobbery,” replied Climberkin; “but we all kept so snug aboard, and sailed so soon arter, that not one on us were diskivered.”

“We shall anchor immediately,” said the captain, returning to the group he had left to speak to the pilot. “Is it your wish, sir, to go ashore?”

“I must be at Canton without delay,” rejoined Oriel Porphyry.

“Man the galley, and get a boat’s crew ready to proceed up the river,” shouted Hearty to the second lieutenant.

“Ay, ay, sir,” was the ready reply; and while the boat was lowered into the sea, and all her appurtenances provided, Zabra and his patron made their arrangements for landing on the Chinese territory.