siesta. In the mean time, one of the servants, who had been in attendance, steals out and informs Houngiu, or Red-Jasper, the only daughter and housekeeper of Pa, of what is going on in the library.

This lady, who, as the reader is aware, is the principal heroine of the plot, though a young beauty of sixteen, is equal to the first doctors in the empire for learning and poetical talent. Hearing that her father is hors de combat, she immediately seizes her pencil, and writes a piece of poetry, which she gives to the servant, with an order to deliver it to his master when he awakes. Pa, after sleeping half an hour, rouses himself and calls for a cup of tea. When he has drunk this, the servant hands him the verses of his young mistress, which Pa upon reading finds to his taste, and returning to the company, produces in the first instance as his own. This leads to much astonishment on the part of the others; but Gu who is brotherin-law to Pa, and familiar with his niece's handwriting, soon recognises it, and discovers the trick, which Pa good humoredly avows. They all then unite in extolling the extraordinary talent and beauty of the young lady, and dwelling upon the necessity of procuring her an immedate establishment. Pa now calls for the poems of the others, but Sa, declining to enter into competition with this masterpiece, proposes that they should drink three large cups each, by way of fine, and say no more about it. Yang, who is wholly incapable of producing so much as a single couplet, seconds the motion; and Gu, although he has nearly finished his piece, consents, that he may not be singular. They accordingly drink their three bumpers each, and continue to amuse themselves with drinking and conversation, until the lanterns are lighted and the company disperse. It is evident that the hours of assembling and separating, observed by the fashionable world in China, are of what we should consider a very patriarchal kind. Whether they are less convenient than ours, is perhaps a different question. The poetical masterpiece here alluded to, may serve as a specimen of the verses which are frequently introduced in the course of the narrative, and which regularly adorn the opening of every chapter, as in a Waverley novel. It may be thus translated;

'Charming mixture of purple, white, scarlet, and gold! 'What divinity produces you at the return of autumn?

'Through the trellis, where we thought to see only the faces

of venerable sages, you appear in your beauty like a young maiden at her lattice.

'The quiet, the freedom, so dear to me at all times, and which I enjoy in this cool retreat, place me, as it were, in another world; but cares of state leave me very little leisure to taste these pleas

ures.

'Sweet flowers! oh that I could pass my days in lolling on a couch, and inhaling your delightful odor!'

Red-Jasper's notion of happiness seems to have been much like that of the poet Gray, who, in one of his letters, represents it as the idéal of Paradise, to lie all day upon a sofa, and read eternal novels of Marivaux, and we will not say what other author, out of tenderness for the reputation of the divine minstrel of the Churchyard and Eton College.

Such, however, is a brief sketch of the contents of the first chapter, which throws of itself more light upon the manners of the Chinese of rank and fortune, than all the recent books of travels put together. It also serves as the groundwork of the plot. Yang, excited by the flattering accounts given of the merit and beauty of Pa's daughter, forms a plan of bringing about a marriage between her and his son, a youth, as it afterwards appears, of small literary pretensions, and who obtained, at the annual examination in his native city, only the sixty-third place in the third class. Yang, however, contrives by a little manoeuvring, to have his son's character represented in a favorable light to Pa, and solicits for him the hand of the fair poetess. By way of putting his merit to the test, Gu gives a dinner, to which they are all invited, and when the cloth is removed, proposes to the company to make extempore verses. By great good luck the youth acquits himself once or twice somewhat better than might have been anticipated; but is finally detected in an unequivocal false quantity, which decides the matter against him. Yang takes offence at the rejection of his son's pretensions; and with a view at once of revenging himself upon Pa, and of endeavoring to get the decision reversed, employs his influence at court, to have the latter appointed on an embassy, which is to be sent off with a message to the emperor, who was, it seems, at this time a prisoner in the Tartar camp, the empire being under the administration of a regent. From the manner in which this appointment is spoken of, it would seem that the diplomatic line is not a favorite department of the public service among the Chinese. All his

friends join in condoling with the unfortunate master of ceremonies upon the occasion; and Yang, as a great mark of favor, offers to get the nomination recalled, if Pa will consent to the marriage. The latter, however, firmly rejects this proposal; and putting a good face upon the matter, expresses his perfect readiness to sacrifice his repose, and, if necessary, his life to the public good, adding that he is not without hope, that he shall be able to procure the emperor's release.

Under these agreeable impressions, he proposes to set off, but finds at the last moment that Yang (who seems to be allpowerful at court) has had him placed in a subaltern rank in the embassy, instead of at the head of it, according to the first arrangement; his case being similar to that of one of our citizens, who, after being appointed Minister Plenipotentiary, should be commissioned as Secretary of Legation. This commutation is of course not very agreeable to Pa, more especially as it deprives him of the power of rendering any considerable service. According to our occidental etiquette, it would have been viewed by most persons as a proper occasion for retiring from public life. Pa, however, sacrifices all scruples to his zeal for the welfare of the empire, proceeds manfully upon his mission, and after a prosperous journey returns without accident, somewhere about the middle of the second volume. In the mean time, in order to secure his daughter against the intrigues of Yang during his absence, he entrusts her to the protection of her uncle Gu, who retires with her from the capital, and after a journey of about a month (steamboats and stage-coaches being probably not in use in the Celestial Empire), arrives at the city of Nankin, where he establishes his residence.

The chief object of Gu, as the young lady's guardian, is to find a suitable match for her; and he makes use of every effort to settle this important affair at once, in order to surprise his friend Pa with a son-in-law upon his return from Tartary. Constantly intent upon his purpose, Gu remarks in one of his promenades in a favorite pleasure garden, near the city, a poem of extraordinary merit, inscribed upon the wall of a summer-house, and signed Sa-Yupe of Nankin. This person turns out to be a nephew of the inspector general Sa-Yuan, with whom we made acquaintance in the first chapter, and is the hero of the story. Perceiving that the ink with which the poem is written is still fresh, Gu concludes that the author must

be in the garden or its neighborhood. After some search, he succeeds in getting a sight of him, and is so much pleased with his personal appearance, that he immediately fixes upon him as the future spouse of his niece. Proceeding, however, with due circumspection, he makes inquiries respecting the young man's character and situation, and ascertains that he is an orphan of about twenty years of age, without fortune, and a stranger at Nankin, where he is residing as a student at the college. This union of circumstances would not perhaps be regarded in our more interested western regions, as constituting a remarkably advantageous parti for a young, beautiful, and wealthy heiress of the highest rank; but they manage these things more liberally in China. The satisfaction of Gu,' says our author, was complete, when he heard this report. "Since the youth is poor and unmarried," said he to himself, "there can be no difficulty. He has no parents, I have full powers from Pa, the affair shall be settled at once." It only remains to obtain a full assurance of the qualifications of the bridegroom, by ascertaining the precise extent of his literary talent. Luckily the annual examination comes on just at this moment. As soon as it is over, Gu sends for the printed catalogue of the names of the successful candidates, and finds that of Sa-Yupe, as may well be supposed, at the head. This decisive fact removes all doubts, and Gu determines at once to offer him the hand of Red-Jasper.

The hero and principal heroine are thus fairly brought into presence (as nearly at least as they can be in China, where a man is not allowed to see his wife before the wedding) at the close of the first volume. Adorned, as they both are, with every grace, talent, virtue, and beauty, or, in the Chinese phrase, all gold and jasper, moving like superior beings, and without rivals, in the midst of their respective circles of wondering worshippers, they possess of course an irresistible attraction for each other, and (as we observed above of their pareils in general) would infallibly, if permitted, rush into each other's arms at the first interview. The problem with the author, upon the manner of solving which the interest of the plot depends, is to contrive the means of keeping them asunder through the other three volumes. This is effected by a series of difficulties, which resolve themselves too often into mere accidents, and belong of course to the lowest order of poetical machinery, unhappily the one most frequently employed

even by the best hands in all countries. Some springs of a finer material are, however, from time to time put in motion; and the intrigue is on the whole not badly managed, when judged by comparison, not with ideal rules, but with good specimens of the European school of romance. We shall briefly notice the principal occurrences that successively obstruct the happiness of the lovers, some or, indeed, all of which illustrate very curiously the manners of the country.

The first is an unfortunate qui pro quo, by the effect of which the hero mistakes another person for the heroine, and is induced to form an unfavorable opinion of her appearance. Gu, having made up his mind in favor of the connexion, employs the services of a lady belonging to the respectable profession of matchmakers, to carry the proposition to the fortunate bachelor. The business of conducting the negotiations preliminary to a matrimonial alliance, has, it seems, become in China, as might perhaps have been expected from the established customs in regard to the intercourse between the sexes, a distinct and acknowledged occupation; which, from their superior tact in the management of these matters, naturally falls into the hands of the ladies. Madam Chang, an experienced matchmaker of high reputation, is therefore despatched to sound young Sa. The latter is agreeably struck with the proposal, but with more delicacy than is usual among his countrymen, positively insists on seeing the bride before he gives a decisive answer. A formal interview is of course out of the question; but our convenient ambassadress, whose profession it is to remove difficulties, points out to the curious lover a place where he may probably get a sight of his mistress, as she sits at the window of a pavilion in her uncle's garden.

Now it so happens that Gu has a daughter, and that this daughter belongs to the unfortunate category of foils and rivals, a class of characters, who are sometimes, though rarely, honest, but, we may boldly say, never handsome. Gu's daughter is so far from being an exception to the rule, that her very name, Wouyan, or No-Beauty, indicates but too well the defects in her appearance. As ill luck would have it, no sooner has our hero taken his post of observation, than No-Beauty puts her head out of the pavilion window to look at a flight of swallows. A man of ordinary judgment would have taken care to ascertain that he had seen the right person; but Sa, with the precipitation