respects resembling Gibraltar.

Like the city of the "Sentinel of the Straits," it is built from the very edge of the sea to some considerable distance up the mountains which constitute the principal portion of the island, and is almost entirely hemmed in by towering masses of time-worn granite, that constitute a grand and effective background to its princely buildings. Many of these noble edifices—the dwellings of European merchants and officials, and the British Government works—in the higher parts of the town are well ornamented by gardens; which, with several verdant little valleys in the hollows of the mountains, some low hills covered with a feathery semi-tropical foliage—Green Island, with its dense bushes on one hand, and Jardine's, crowned with a noble mansion of that firm, on the other—together with the multitude of junks and European shipping at anchor, and those under weigh crossing and enlivening the scene, afford a charming and picturesque tone to what would otherwise be the unrelieved massiveness and sterility of the place.

There is one particularly beautiful spot in the "Island of Sweet Waters," as it is poetically termed by the Chinese, that well repays the trouble of a visit. It is situated some five or six miles from the town, and is named Happy Valley. It is surrounded with luxuriant Asiatic foliage, from the midst of which occasional farm-houses peep out. A fine grassy level forms the centre of the valley, around which is constructed the Hong-Kong racecourse, and this is bounded by a broad carriage-road completely encircling the whole plain; while on the edges of the distant rising ground the burial-place of those Europeans who never return to their home rears above the surrounding evergreens its monumental sculpture.

Happy Valley is surrounded by mountains whose sloping sides are thickly clothed with vegetation; the trees, although of a stunted species, are thickly interlaced with undergrowth and an innumerable variety of evergreen bushes, through which murmur many mountain springs, that become in the rainy months swollen into torrents. Although a favourite resort of European residents, I hardly consider Happy Valley a good sanatorium; for, when visiting it at early sunrise, I invariably found thick, damp vapours shrouding it, slow to be dispelled by the morning sun, and strongly significant of fever, and "Hong-Kong fever" in particular.

The colony of Hong-Kong represents most perfectly the success of British enterprise in commercial matters; and, what is far more important, points to the true mode by which Christian and civilized nations may communicate with the Pagan and semi-civilized ones of Asia.

The less said about the cession of the island to England the better; for, although in the year 1841 the Imperial Commissioner, Keshen, coerced by the presence of British troops, agreed to cede it, his Government repudiated this unauthorized agreement, and yet the British made that a casus belli, and afterwards compelled them to sanction and endorse the concession. Many people will, doubtless, say that England was compelled to make war upon the Chinese at that time, in order to defend her subjects and protect their trade and property; but it does not appear that either trade or property had ever been threatened, except through the nefarious opium traffic. The Chinese Government took the best measures to prevent the introduction of this injurious drug into their empire, but the British Government laid themselves open to the charge of wishing to protect the smugglers and forward the lawless trade.

The colony of Hong-Kong is in many respects to be admired, and it is to be regretted that the ministers of the present day do not appreciate its many advantages. In former days England possessed more statesmen and fewer politicians than now. Of all the blunders which have recently marked her foreign policy, the late intervention in China is the worst; there we find neither the courage nor intellect which, in former ages, by talent, energy, and success redeemed even acts of aggression; neither do we perceive any desire to forego that system of unjustifiable interference which is so much calculated to render this great nation contemptible.

Hong-Kong is a free port, and in that lies the secret of how to establish relations with the Chinese, Japanese, or any other exclusive Asiatic people. As the late Mr. Cobden very correctly stated, during the debate upon China in the House of Commons (May 30, 1864), "We have only to establish free ports on the coast of China, withdraw ourselves altogether from political contact with the people, and we shall have a trade with them quite as much, if not more, than if we penetrate into the country and assist in destroying their civilization in a vain attempt to plant our own, for which they are not yet fitted." There is no necessity whatever to force trade, and when such policy is persisted in, the results are always calamitous. To apply the idea personally: How would any of us like a stranger (foreign to us in every respect) to come and thrust himself into our house, determined to compel us to trade with him, openly professing his intentions to alter our religion, ancient institutions, &c., with his goods in one hand (principally a poisonous drug) and a sword in the other? But let the stranger establish himself close to our house, without aggression or loud-mouthed professions of interference with our domestic and public policy, and then, whenever we become aware of the benefit to be derived from him, is it not certain that we should flock to him willingly, and take him amongst us as a friend?

I caught the first glimpse of real Chinese life directly the anchor fell from the Emeu's starboard cathead; for although at Singapore and Penang there are many "Celestials," yet their peculiar manners and customs do not forcibly obtrude themselves upon the notice of a "bird of passage." They seem, at both places, to be leading a subdued, unnatural, very un-Celestial sort of existence; and, besides, very few Celestial ladies are to be seen about. The Emeu was scarcely moored when I was startled by the appearance of those amphibious creatures, the Chinese boat and laundry women. The Tanka (boat) girls lead an almost entirely aquatic life, and are actually born, live, and die, on board their floating homes. Their time seems fully occupied in rowing, or sculling with a large oar over the stern of the boat; and this incessant labour makes them strong and well-figured. Until married, it cannot be said they are either paragons of virtue or modesty; but when married, or betrothed—that is to say, bought by a long-tailed Benedict—they, at all events, seem far less amiable towards the exiled "Fan-Kwei" (foreign devil), as, in common with most Chinese, they politely designate all foreigners.

The personal charms of these first seen of the Chinese fair sex are by no means so contemptible as Europeans generally imagine. Their long and intensely black hair, brilliant and merry though oblique black eyes, light-yellowish brown and often beautifully clear complexion, and lithe robust figures, constitute a charming and singular variety of feminine attraction. They are a gay thoughtless set these boat-girls; unfortunately, to mar what would otherwise often be a very handsome face, many of them have the flattish nose typical of South China, though the high and more European formed one is by no means uncommon. Through constant exposure to the sun, they are mostly tanned to a regular olivaster gipsy hue, and wicked little gipsies they often are, especially when making a young greenhorn, fresh from his mamma in England, pay six times the proper fare.

The Tanka girls are free in all things unconnected with their work; but, as many are purchased by aged individuals, owners of boats, they are