Chinese schoolmaster depends on the number of
his pupils, but they must not exceed twenty;
because it is held that he could not attend to a
greater number with the necessary care. Every
boy is bound to give his teacher annually the
following articles: Rice, 50 Ib.; for extra
provisions, 300 cash; lamp oil, 1 catty (1? lb.);
lard, 1 catty; salt, 1 catty; tea, 1 catty; and,
besides, a sum of from 1½ to 4 dollars, according
to the boy's age and ability. The lessons are
continued throughout the whole year, with only
one month's holidays at the new year, when the
engagement of the teacher always terminates,
and a new contract must be made.

Sin-tshuen tried for literary honours; on
which in China everything depends; but, in
Canton, he did not succeed. When he was
about twenty-three years old, and again in
Canton to try his chance, he met before the
house of the Superintendent of Finances a
strange fortune-teller dressed in the ancient
Chinese costume as it was worn before the
conquest of the Tartars, and as it may yet be
seen in Cochin-China and upon the stage. The
stranger had a coat with wide sleeves, and his
hair tied in a knot on his head. He was telling
fortunes through an interpreter, and Sin-tshuen
drew near to ask whether he would succeed this
time in the examination. The man answered
his thought before he uttered it, by saying,
"You will attain the highest rank; but do not
be grieved, for grief will make you sick. I
congratulate your virtuous father." The next
day he met again two men in the Liang-
tsang street, one of whom gave him nine small
volumes; being a complete set of a work
entitled Good Words for exhorting the Age. Sin-
tshuen took these books home to his village,
and, after having only superficially glanced at
them, laid them aside without further thinking
of them.

In the next year, 1837, he went again to
Canton for the examination. At first his name
was placed high on the board; but afterwards it
was again put lower, which misfortune pulled
him down so much that he was obliged to engage
a sedan and two stout men to carry him back to
his native village. There he arrived on the first
day of the third Chinese month, and for some time
he kept his bed, where he was visited by strange
dreams. He saw a great many people, who
bade him welcome to their number, and he
supposed this to forebode his death. He called his
parents and relatives, and said to them, "My
days are counted, and my life will soon be
closed. O my parents! how badly have I
returned the favour of your love to me! I shall
never attain a name that may reflect its lustre
upon you." When he had said these words, he
shut his eyes and fainted; and his two brothers,
who had supported him while he spoke, laid him
down on the bed, thinking, like all present, that
he was dying.

We tell the tale as we gather it from Chinese
sources; but the reader will make what allowance
he feels to be necessary for imposture. At first,
when Sin-tshuen's eyes were closed, he saw a
vision. In it, a dragon, a tiger, a cock, several
musicians, a luminous place full of fine men and
women, an old woman, a great number of old,
virtuous, and venerable men, who take the pains
to cut his body open and sew it up again, are
mixed in a farrago quite as absurd as the spirit-
rapping stories current among the English readers
of Spiritual publications. Finally, Sin-tshuen
was presented with the emblems of royalty
and true exponent of Heaven's will upon earth.
The sickness and visions continued, it is said,
for forty days. In Sin-tshuen's later dreams
he met often with a man of middle age, whom he
heard reprove Confucius for having omitted in
his books clearly to expound the true doctrine.
Confucius seemed to be much ashamed, and
owned his guilt.

Often, during his sickness, Sin-tshuen said
that he was duly appointed Emperor of China,
and was highly gratified when any one so called
him; but when people said he was mad he
laughed at them, and called them mad
themselves. He was soon known in the whole district
as the madman; for he frequently performed
violent antics, to make believe that he was slaying
demons. People came in to look at him when
he lay asleep, wearied out by his exertions. His
two brothers kept him fastened within doors.

When Sin-tshuen recovered from this sickness,
it is said that he was careful in his conduct,
friendly and open in his demeanour, his body
increased in height and size, his pace became
firm and imposing, his views enlarged and liberal.
His friend describes him as being, at a later
period, a rather tall man, with oval face and fair
complexion, high nose, small round ears, his
eyes large and bright, his look piercing and
difficult to endure, his voice clear and sonorous.
When laughing, the whole house resounded.
His hair was black, his beard long and sandy,
his strength of body extraordinary, his power
of understanding rare.

In 1843, Sin-tshuen had a school in a
village named Waterlily, ten miles from his
native place, where he was engaged as a
teacher by the Li family. In that year his
cousin Li happened to find in the bookcase of
Sin-tshuen the work entitled Good Words for
exhorting the Age, given to him at Canton, and
laid aside. Li asked what was in it? Sin-tshuen
answered that he did not know, and Li took the
work home with him. The author of the Good
Words exhorting the Age calls himself "Hioh-
shen," or "Student of Virtue." The name,
however, by which he is commonly called is
Liang-afah, known as one of Dr. Milne's
Chinese converts. He became himself a
missionary, and wrote and printed in the year
1832, nine tracts, of about fifty pages each,
which were revised by Dr. Morrison in
manuscript, and afterwards printed at Malacca. The
general title is as above mentioned, and among
the contents are whole chapters of the Bible,
according to the translation of Dr. Morrison,
many exhortations drawn from single texts, and
sundry statements founded upon Scripture.

When Li returned the books to Sin-tshuen,