the chests; here, where the light falls in from the roof, are tables placed for superintendents, who carefully watch the workmen; farther off, are foreigners inspecting a newly arrived chop; at the extreme end is the little apartment where the tea merchant receives people upon business; and through the high door beyond, we see the crowded river, and chopboats waiting for cargoes.  At the river end of the building a second story is added, often fitted up with immense suites of beautiful rooms, elegantly furnished, and abounding with rare and costly articles of virtu.  Here is a door leading higher still, out upon the roof, which is flat.  Below us is the river with its myriads of boats, visible as far as the eye can reach, no less than eighty-four thousand belonging to Canton alone.  On our right is the public square, where of late stood the foreign factories, now destroyed by the mob, while the flags of France, England, and America have disappeared.  On our left is another vista of river life, the pagoda near Whampoa, and the forts of Dutch and French Folly.  In our rear is the immense city of Canton, and opposite to us, across the river, lies the verdant island of Honan, with its villages, its canals, and its great Buddhist temple.  On descending, we find that a servant has placed for us on a superb table in one of the pretty rooms cups of delicious tea,—­it being the custom in all the hongs to offer the beverage to strangers at all times.  A cup of the aromatic Oulong will serve to steady our nerves for the completion of the tea-lecture.

The visitor will soon form some idea of the magnitude of the tea trade, by going from one hong to another, and finding all of them filled with chests, while armies of coolies are bringing in chops, sorting cargoes, loading chop-boats, making leaden canisters, packing, and labelling the packages.  A heavy gate, with brilliant, figures painted on it, and adorned with enormous lanterns, swings yawning open, and admits the stranger.  Just inside of the gate, at a little table, sits a man who keeps count of the coolies, as they enter with chests of tea, and sees that they do not carry any out except for good reasons.  Looking down the length of the hong, a busy scene presents itself.  It is crammed with big square chests just from the tea regions, and piled up to the roof.  Presently a string of coolies, stretching out like a flock of wild geese, come past, and set down chests enough on the floor to cover half an acre.  These half-naked fellows are nimble workmen, and will unload a boat full of tea in an incredibly short time.  Very valuable as an animal is the cooly:  he is a Jack-at-all-trades; works at the scull of a boat, or in a tea pack-house; bears a mandarin’s sedan-chair, or sweeps out a chamber.  His ideas are as limited as his means, and nearly as much so as his clothing; but he works all day without grumbling at his lot, is cheerful, and seems to enjoy life, although he lives on a few cents a day.  He sleeps soundly