division of mind between it and the better rooms
to which I was going, as I had been in so often
between the forge and Miss Havisham's, and
Biddy and Estella.

The sun had been shining brightly all day on
the roof of my attic, and the room was warm.
As I put the window open and stood looking
out, I saw Joe come slowly forth at the dark door
below, and take a turn or two in the air; and
then I saw Biddy come and bring him a pipe
and light it for him. He never smoked so late,
and it seemed to hint to me that he wanted
comforting, for some reason or other.

He presently stood at the door immediately
beneath me, smoking his pipe, and Biddy stood
there too, quietly talking to him, and I knew
that they talked of me, for I heard my name
mentioned in an endearing tone by both of them
more than once. I would not have listened
for more, if I could have heard more: so, I drew
away from the window, and sat down in my one
chair by the bedside, feeling it very sorrowful
and strange that this first night of my bright
fortunes should be the loneliest I had ever
known.

Looking towards the open window, I saw light
wreaths from Joe's pipe floating there, and I
fancied it was like a blessing from Joe—not
obtruded on me or paraded before me, but
pervading the air we shared together. I put my
light out, and crept into bed; and it was an
uneasy bed now, and I never slept the old sound
sleep in it any more.

FLAWS IN CHINA.

ALTHOUGH the Tartars hold the reins of the
Chinese government, and are to all intents and
purposes masters, imposing their own laws and
customs—as witness pigtails and the national
costume—yet the Chinese have never absorbed
them. They have never thoroughly overlaid the
national element, and from time to time the cry
of "China for the Chinese!" stirs the national
heart of the flowery land. The conqueror and
the conquered ever remain as two, and are still
only conqueror and conquered. The Tartars
have a special quarter assigned to them in
most of the towns, and their women have
the good taste to eschew the vanity of the
"golden water-lilies," so dear to the heart of
the Chinese lady, and keep to their own
natural feet, such as God gave them. In many
other things of even greater significance the
line of demarcation is still broadly drawn.

The present rebellion under Tai-ping, the
Prince of Peace, is broadening out that line
with terrible decision. As a rising against
the foreign possessors of the country, it is a
curious transcript of the former national revolt
against the Mongolians; and Tai-ping
imitates his predecessor Hung-woo as closely as he
can, both in his policy and his strategy. So
closely do both lines run together, that even in
such a matter as that of the general pawning
and forfeiture of the Tartars' arms and horses,
the present imitates the past. When Hung-
woo put the Mongolians upon their mettle, and
they had to muster all their service to meet him,
it was found that they had forfeited half their
arms and equipments to the Chinese; a fact
which somewhat lessened their efficiency when
the day of hurry came. And now, at this
present moment, the cunning Chinese shopkeepers
have in pledge half the horses of the Tartars.
We may be sure they will not give up the pawn-
tickets easily. Tai-ping, the Prince of Peace,
who comes in so stormy a manner to substantiate
his claim to that mild title, has proved
himself a second Peter the Czar in the matter of
costume and hairy growths. He and his followers
have cut off their pigtails, and cast away the
Tartar tippets, to go back to the long unshaven
locks and loose robes opening in front of the
time of the Mings. They are welcomed by the
real Chinese people everywhere, and they make
a marked difference in their treatment of these
and of such Tartars as may fall into their hands.
To the first they are all humanity and brotherhood;
but for the last are reserved such
barbarities as only belong to the Chinese intellect
to conceive and the Chinese hand to execute.
Tai-ping has had various fortunes. His history,
as he himself and some of the missionaries
desire it to be received, we proceed to tell.

Hung-sin-tshuen, for that is his real name,
was born in the year 1813, in a little village,
among paddy-fields, about thirty miles from
Canton. On a clear day the White Cloud
Mountains, rising in the neighbourhood of Canton,
may be seen from this village, which numbers no
more than about four hundred inhabitants. Most
of them belong to the Hung family and
descendants of other settlers. They are very poor.
Their houses front to the south, in order to profit
by the cooling south-east breezes during the
hot season, and to avoid the northern blasts of
winter. On his birth in this village the new
prophet received the name of "Brilliant Fire,"
and, after Chinese fashion, when he reached the
age of manhood, another, indicating his relation
to the Hung family. Later, when he became a
scholar, he took for his literary name Sin-tshuen,
"Elegant and Perfect."

Although head man of the village, his father
was but poor, possessing only two buffaloes, a
few pigs, dogs, and poultry. He and his two
elder sons cultivated the paddy-fields, but
Sin-tshuen, it is said, showed very soon an
extraordinary capacity for study, and was sent to
school when seven years of age. He surprised
his teachers by his diligence, and several of them
refused to take any pay from him; his relatives
also assisted him, for they were proud of him,
and hoped he would attain high honours. When
he was about sixteen his studies ended, for his
family was too poor to continue them. The
young scholar was then obliged to assist his
father and brothers in their field labours, and led
often the oxen to graze on the mountain. Then
a friend invited him to join for a year in his
studies, meaning to pay himself with his help.
That year passed by: Sin-tshuen was made
schoolmaster of his village. The income of a