detestation of the Mantchous, and in the hope of erecting a Christian empire. They associated the organization of Catholicism with the implicit obedience of the Buddhists, and in 1793, when all Europe was agitated by a vast political movement, matured an insurrection which nearly brought about a change of dynasty. After several sanguinary engagements, however, the insurgents were ultimately defeated, and the infuriated Mantchous wreaked upon their prisoners, more especially the Christians, the accumulated vengeance of a whole century. In the Nouvelles Lettres Edifiantes,' the history of that formidable rebellion is related in a highly interesting, though irregular manner; and in order thoroughly to comprehend what is now taking place in China, the public should revert to those volumes of the Jesuits, which are full at once of amusement and instruction.

From the period we have mentioned, when revolution became epidemical in the world, European influence exercised more or less directly a disorganizing effect on the Mantchou power. The native Chinese beheld, at first with surprise, and then with contempt, the utter inferiority of their Tartar rulers to the peaceful and money-loving strangers from the West. Above all, the English distinguished themselves by a cautious, though unequivocal antagonism to the governing caste, which interfered vexatiously with their trade, and frequently threatened them with expulsion. Such an event could not have failed to prove disastrous to large classes of the industrious natives, who felt this, and trembled for their own subsistence. At the same time, glimpses of the Protestant faith were disclosed to the Chinese, who perceived at once its revolutionary character, and eagerly, therefore, embraced its tenets.

Gutzlaff, according to his own account, a Chinese by descent, found great favour with the people of the Celestial Empire, who eagerly joined the secret society he established called the 'Union,' which had for its object the dissemination of Protestantism, and the organizing of a general conspiracy against the Tartars. While these affairs were in progress, the war broke out with England, and the natives learned by experience what a mere handful of disciplined and courageous men could perform in opposition to disorganized and ignorant multitudes. They beheld the vain and weak man who styled himself the Brother of the Sun and Moon, and affected to exercise sovereign power over all nations, subdued and humiliated by a small British force; compelled to sue humbly for peace; concede to the conquerors a portion of his territories; and agree to pay tribute during a number of years. While the contest was going on, the secret societies had made an offer to the English of the Chinese empire, and it is little to the credit of their policy that

they refused it. We by no means hold with the doctrine that wars are to be undertaken and conquests made for the purpose of propagating our religious faith; but when, on other grounds, an immense portion of the earth might have been annexed to Christendom, it, is we think, matter of regret that the opportunity should have been thrown away.

But so it was, and the sceptre of the Celestial Empire was left in the incompetent hands which had so long appeared to wield it. The native Chinese population seem at one time to have hoped, that if we would not become their masters ourselves, we might at least consent to set up some prince of the Ming dynasty. When the war terminated without producing any change in their political condition, they at once resolved on making some attempt by their own unaided force. The mighty league of secret societies was re-organized, and quickened with a fresh and more ardent spirit. Hope animated revenge. The Mantchous had always been known to be cruel; they were now found to be inactive and cowardly. This, then, was the moment for national redemption, and from the Great Wall to the ocean, from the Yellow Sea to the borders of Tonquin, the native Chinese mind was agitated by the most powerful passionspatriotism, the love of glory, and a thirst for vengeance.

In obedience to some great law, with which we were hitherto unacquainted, the various populations of the civilized world appeared to be inspired by the same ideas at a particular period, though little or no actual communication may have taken place between them. In the year 1848, a blow was dealt to the European despotisms, from which, in spite of appearances, they are staggering yet; and two years later the insurrectionary movement commenced in China, which, from that day to this, has gone on without intermission, and either now or at some future day will inevitably prove fatal to the Mantchou power.

It makes very much against our knowledge of Chinese affairs, that the written language of the people is artificial, and its system of nomenclature uncouth. We find it difficult to extend our sympathies to an individual named Ching-Chang, or HungFoo. Instead of deriving political instruction from the events of their lives, we experience a disturbance of our risible faculties. For this reason we shall be as sparing as possible in the use of Chinese names, which would besides aid us very little in the knowledge of occurrences.

The authors of the work at the head of the present article are men of prudence and ability, who have in an eminent degree divested themselves of national prejudices, and acquired the power to do justice towards all. Mistaken they may be on some points, because the subject of which they treat is so recent as to be

on that account obscure. Time has not yet been afforded to lift the veil from circumstances, to discover and analyse motives, to study the character of the principal actors, or to ascertain the relative strength of contending parties. All that seems at present practicable is to sketch, as they have done, boldly in outline, the occurrences of the last three years, which, if they lead the Chinese nation to the expected goal, will hereafter be classed among the most extraordinary recorded in the annals of mankind.

All great exhibitions of popular virtue have been closely connected with religion or superstition. Every nation has its prophets and sages, its lawgivers and martyrs, who have bequeathed to their successors predictions, political axioms, traditions, legends, which, taken altogether, form in some sense the spiritual atmosphere of the community. The insurrection in the Quang Ly, which initiated the present movement in China, was heralded in by precursory symptoms. Marvels, observe the historian, preceded realities, and invested them with a sort of prestige, by imparting to the rebellion the character of an event predicted by the prophets, and expected by true believers. A report was current among the people, that the forty-eighth year of the present cycle, which began 1851, was the epoch fixed by prophecy for the restoration of the dynasty of Ming. It was added that a great patriot, who lived under the last emperor of that race, had preserved his standard, and had foretold that whoever unfurled it in the midst of his army would ascend the throne. Under this miraculous flag the insurgents, on the first taking up of arms, were said to march. And the fact was not at all questioned by public opinion; a general uneasiness soon took possession of the national mind. There was a report of treacherous or corrupt mandarins, the number and importance of secret affiliations were exaggerated, and in several places meetings were held, where the legitimacy of the Tartar rulers and the necessity of substituting a national dynasty were openly discussed.

When events happen out of the ordinary course, men yield them just as much credence as is compatible with their own character. Critics of Chinese affairs here in Europe, eager to reduce everything to commonplace, are apt to regard the present movement as a contest of mere vulgar interest. But the love of national independence is something loftier than this, and there seems no good reason to doubt that there exist patriots in China, who would deem it no misfortune to shed their blood for the deliverance of their country. If they connect this enterprise with the restoration of an ancient line of princes, they only act in strict conformity with Oriental ideas. The very existence of popular institutions is unknown to them. Their only choice lies between dynasties, and they may reasonably enough prefer to live under the

sway of one of the descendants of the Ming-a family of native princes-to bowing the neck to a Mantchou Tartar, who despises their indigenous manners, who has merely adopted their religion, who brings to Pekin a wife with large feet from Tartary, and who still mangles and mutilates their language like a foreigner. The prince, on the other hand, whom the insurgents have set up, is spoken of as a young man of uncommon merit, studious, retired, modest, with a profound conviction of the righteousness of his cause, dauntless resolution, and a politic and winning bearing, scarcely compatible with the inexperience of youth. To account in some measure for this, he is said to be accompanied by a counsellor, whether his friend, father, or teacher, who remains perpetually invisible. Some have supposed this personage to be a clever myth, like the genius of Socrates. But in that case we should only be encountered by greater difficulty in the attempt to account for that profound wisdom, by which the actions of Tien-Tè have on nearly all occasions been characterized.

The very selection of the province of Quang Ly for the first seat of the insurrection may be enumerated among the proofs of his judicious policy. Taken altogether, it is perhaps one of the least accessible, as it is one of the most interesting of the divisions of China. Its general aspect is singularly picturesque, and offers points of view which have often been delineated by Chinese painters. Their landscapes, however, always appear strange to European eyes, with their inaccessible mountains, which look as if created by the human imagination-the rocks having a resemblance to gigantic animals-the rivers falling into abysses crossed by impassable bridges-all these seem to us like something belonging to the realm of fancies. But, as in other mountainous regions, the land for the most part is barren, or forced into fertility by the incessant toil of its inhabitants, who acquire in their contests with nature a bold and hardy disposition of mind. Men dwelling among such scenes, have in all parts of the world. been advanced to independence, so that the forces of the most powerful empires have often suffered disaster and defeat from a handful of desperate mountaineers resolved to perish or be free. Among the rumours of the day, one was circulated attributing the discovery of silver mines in this wild region to the leaders of the insurrection, who were thus, it is said, enabled to support their troops until victory had rendered them masters of the rich cities and plains of China. Tien-Tè's first followers consisted chiefly of the Miao-tze, a fierce and warlike tribe, living in small isolated societies among the sterile ridges which extend. to the central provinces of the empire. They choose secluded spots to dwell in, never congregating to the number of more than two thousand. Like the Malays, they raise their houses on

piles, keeping their domestic animals under the same roof. Though agriculturists, they are much addicted to war, reckless of danger, and accustomed to fatigue. They are among those tribes which the Tartars have never been able to reduce to submission. They still adhere to the ancient costume of their nation, have never shaved their heads, and have invariably repelled the authority of the mandarins, and the customs of the Chinese. Their independence,' said a mandarin, 'is now an established fact, and in our maps their country is left white, to show that they do not submit to the emperor."

During the reign of a former emperor an attempt was made to subdue them, and bulletins were issued announcing mighty victories obtained by the imperial troops; but it was soon found necessary to abandon all ideas of breaking the spirit of these mountaineers. In 1832 their martial character exhibited itself in an unusual manner. They exalted one of their nation with the title of emperor, clothed him in the imperial yellow robe, and under his standard made an irruption into the lower countries, which they utterly devastated. Their invasions,' said a Mantchou to an English traveller, 'caused us great uneasiness. Our troops were beaten by these savage hordes.' The Miao-tze, too warlike to be conquered by arms, yielded to the arts of negotiation. Skilful diplomatists were dispatched to them from the court, and by offering them certain advantages persuaded them to disband their troops and return peaceably home. When some of the mandarins were asked whether these tribes never descended into the plains on errands of friendliness, they said that such a thing scarcely ever occurred. They carry on little trade, but cultivate mountain rice, fell timber, and sell it to merchants, who come up to their villages every year. Otherwise their intercourse with their neighbours is confined to the interchange of part of their produce for articles of which they stand in absolute need. By the Chinese they are called 'Men-dogs,' 'Men-wolves,' and are said to have tails. When a child is born they cauterise the soles of its feet to harden them; but though, in this as in other respects, they are barbarians, traces of refinement and literature have been discovered among them.

In the south-west portions of these strange provinces the insurgents passed the first month of 1850, though they gradually congregated upon the frontier. Several cities fell into their hands, after more or less opposition from the mandarins; and, by adopting the tactics of feigned retreats and ambuscades, they defeated the imperial forces whenever they met.

Up to this time there was no idea of a pretender to the Chinese throne. One general after another was appointed, who avowed a design to overthrow the Mantchou throne; but no mention was