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27, 1861.] eight miles square, but only a very small portion of that is now occupied. We visited one of their mandarins, and to reach his house had to climb a hill, which I can only compare to a high dunghill. Up one side we went and down the other, being in great danger of slipping and falling at every step—and if we had, what a mess we should have been in! One of the merchants of our party had a short talk with the mandarin on business. He was a fine energetic man of about twenty-five. He treated us very kindly, giving us the usual Chinese welcome of a cup of tea. Peeping from behind a screen, I saw two or three pretty-looking girls, I suppose his wives, for they have unlimited quantities of that commodity. The river here, 260 miles from the sea, is considerably broader than the Thames at Greenwich. On the bank of the river close to the town, and under the eyes of hundreds of the inhabitants, was to be seen the disgusting spectacle of dogs devouring a human body. The next day we proceeded up the river, passing alternately fleets of the rebels and Imperialists, who must surely have some understanding with each other, as you meet with them frequently within ten miles of each other, yet they never fight. We passed the city of Ngankin, which you may remember had the impertinence to fire at us on our voyage up the river in 1858. It is still in the hands of the rebels, though the Imperialists have completely surrounded them with their lines of circumvallation, and are making their gradual approaches to the city in a series of zig-zags. Not that either party appear to hurry over their work, as, while we passed, one gun about every ten minutes was the average of the firing. The city itself looked in good repair. At the angles of the walls stakes had been driven into the ground in immense quantities. Outside the wall was a beautiful pagoda, strongly fortified, quite surrounded with spikes and chevaux de frise: and outside of the city were the usual ruins of suburbs, almost as large as the city itself. I suppose they were considered indefensible, and so they destroyed them. This siege has now been going on to our knowledge for two years, and goodness knows how much longer it may continue. The country for miles round, indeed as far as we could see, looked quite uninhabited, evidently in consequence of the war; except that at places we passed on the river we saw crowds of people that seemed to have been driven from their homes, and living in temporary huts of straw. The next day, the 5th, we passed a large walled city, Tu-nglin, in the hands of the Imperialists, who, to make sure of keeping it, have a large army stationed round it. It presented quite a gay appearance as we passed; banners past all numeration were waving in the sun, every other soldier had one; if they had fewer banners and more guns it would perhaps be better for the poor people. Farther on we passed a remarkable conical rock in the middle of the river called “Little Orphan,” on the extreme top of which was placed a joss-house, and on a narrow shelf midway up another temple; how ever the people get to it we could not see. At this place the river is remarkably narrow, not more than three-eighths of a mile in width, running rapidly through a gorge between two high mountains. We anchored at dark off the entrance to the Poyang lakes, and in the morning we found the scenery was grander than ever, hill rising behind hill, till they towered up into mountains, the back ground filled in with a lofty range whose peaks were covered with snow. Here there is a military town called Ho-kow, surrounded with a strong and good wall. This at one time belonged to the rebels, but they left it when the Imperialists took possession. There were only 1000 men of the Imperialist army here, and awful looking wretches they were, the lowest of the low. No wonder they always run away when the rebels approach, for these latter, to do them justice, have the look of men about them.

“Next morning we left Ho-kow, leaving behind the Atalanta and Havoc to survey the lakes. We soon reached Kewkeang, a large and populous city, walled, though not in good repair.

“The country here is evidently more settled and better cultivated, being more out of the reach of the rebels. I was unable to go ashore, but by all accounts the city was like all other Chinese cities, very dirty, though evidently flourishing. Next morning we left, and passed through a beautiful district, the river making many windings among the hills: the valleys were well cultivated, and densely populated villages, pagodas, and towns crowding on the eye. In the evening we anchored off the town of Wang-chow-ho, where we stayed next day, being Sunday. On the other side of the river is another large town, though Wang-chow is the capital of the province. After divine service a party of us went to the opposite town, as the country looked more inviting, and had a pleasant ramble, though we saw nothing remarkable. We were treated by the people with great civility, which was not the case with another party that went ashore at Wang-chow. The people were very insulting, and threw several brickbats at them. They went to complain to the chief mandarin, who made them a humble apology, the substance of which was, that the great literary examination was going on in the town, and that all the “roughs” of the province had collected in consequence. He led them out of the town himself, the crowd following, and occasionally hooting; and directly he got them outside the gates were shut on the rabble. A word about these examinations. They are held in the capital of the province every three years (I think), for degrees or rather places in the government. The hall in this town is said to accommodate 8000 pupils, each of whom has a separate cell, and all the cells look out into the court-yard, so that though the pupils cannot communicate with any one outside, or with each other, they can be plainly seen by the officers in the court-yard. Well, in these cells they are kept writing the essays, which are not given out till they are all assembled inside, and for three days, while they are writing the essays, they are not allowed to leave their cells on any pretence whatever. I am sure I don’t know whom to pity most—the pupils, or the examiners who have to read the thousands of essays all on the same subject.

“Monday, the 11th. We steamed along through a highly populous country, till in the afternoon we