the entrance hangs a little mirror. To
looking-glasses John is rather partial, and,
on the occasion of this ceremony, each
of the assembled Chinamen endeavoured
to get a peep at his own image,—a sight
which invariably produced symptoms of great
delight.

At the farther end stood a small table,
over which was a scarlet canopy with long
curtains, the whole somewhat resembling
window drapery. On the table stood three
ordinary ale-glasses, filled with a pale liquor
of some kind; and each glass was flanked by
a couple of plated candlesticks. In the
centre, round a pyramid of fancy cakes, was
the representation of a hand, cut off at the
wrist, three of the fingers erect, and the
other two turned down, for the purpose of
pressing, against the palm, a piece of fruit,
from which appeared to be exuding a red
juice. The hand was neither a right hand nor
left hand, five fingers rising from an even
base without the semblance of a thumb on
either side.

About two feet from this table stood
another table of much larger size, upon which,
at the beginning of the ceremony, there were
many tallow candles, painted to resemble
wax tapers. The lighting of these was the
first incident in the day's show. Small
packages of wiry reeds, about a foot long,
were laid on the table, and each devotee took
a few of them—from three to a dozen—
lighted them at the tapers; then, retiring a
few steps, bowed three times before the table
and its contents, at the same time waving
the reeds up and down with every motion of
the body. This finished, one of the reeds
was invariably stuck by each man in a bowl
of uncooked rice. The reeds, when only a
few of them were lighted, gave out an
agreeable perfume; but when they were
alight by the hundred, their smoke was nearly
suffocating.

This part of the ceremony ended with a
firing of many crackers, a general discharging
of fire-arms, beating of drums, ringing of
gongs, and clashing of cymbals. The second
act began with the lighting up of a much
greater number of tapers and reeds, and included
a more energetic set of bendings in
front of the table or altar.

At this stage of the proceedings, there
seemed to arise a difference of opinion as to
the order of the ceremonial. The dispute
became loud and angry, and would probably
have ended in blows, but for the intervention
of a wrinkled old Chinaman, bearded and
whiskered like a cat, who seemed to be high
priest. This man's head was covered by a
hood, resembling a monk's cowl. A
dark-coloured tunic, ample in size, and trimmed
with fur about the neck, enveloped his chest;
an inner garment, of the same kind, but
without fur, hung four inches below it;
and an innermost shirt of common stripe
hung down six inches lower still; he wore
also coarse trousers and tattered European
shoes.

When this man had succeeded in allaying
the tumult and restoring order, an opening
was made right and left from the door, and a
bare-armed fellow, bearing aloft a roast pig,
entered the temple. He was speedily followed
by others, carrying fowls, joints of
pork, and a variety of doubtful dishes. Then
came fruits in abundance; also cakes, pastry,
and tea, with three dishes of cooked rice.
Two large decorated candles were lighted
after these things were arranged. The leading
men and better-dressed portion of the
congregation then came forward and knelt in
front of the food. One of the elders first
chanted, and then pronounced two words,
which seemed to say, " Rise, kneel; Rise,
kneel," allowing, as he spoke, time for the
corresponding action. This rising and kneeling
was nine times repeated, and accompanied
in many cases by the touching of the carpet
with the forehead. This over, the worshippers
arose, and again bowed three times towards
the table. A few more words were chanted
at intervals, during which the lighter dishes
were slightly raised from the table, the
heavier ones merely touched.

The third act of the ceremony was the
reading of the four volumes of Chinese records,
with their two or three small supplements.
They were read with all seeming
reverence, slowly and clearly, and this reading
was in striking contrast with the gabble
kept up by the audience.

The reading over, the prostrations again
began, the cowled official leading the service,
which was varied by the distillation of
some clear liquid from the teapot. The
worshipper held a common glass in his hand,
which one of the officials partly filled from
the teapot. The glass was then waved in
front of the table, part of its contents being
poured upon the ground; the glass, after
being again waved was returned to the table.
Once more, all the dishes were handled;
nothing was put near the lips. Finally,
everything combustible, and not eatable,
which had been used on the occasion, was
reduced to ashes, as a burnt-offering, and the
ceremony was over.

The Chinaman, in Australia, does not seek
to acquire more of the English language,
than is necessary to enable him to express
his wants. He assumes the European dress;
but seldom adopts European habits—not
even to the extent of grog-drinking. He
shows no desire to settle in the country,
neither will he accept fixed employment; but
after a few years of patient, unremitting toil
at the gold-fields, he returns to the beloved
land. There, it may be that, with the filial
affection for which his nation is deservedly
famous, he soothes the declining years of aged
parents; or it may be, that, like another
Jacob, after submitting to temporary exile
among the red-haired barbarians of the