We have stated our conviction that the Chinese as a nation are not more addicted to thieving than the inhabitants of many countries for whom the same excuses are by no means so available.  That no undiscerning persons may be led to regard us as panegyrists of a stationary civilisation, we hasten to counterbalance our somewhat laudatory statements by the enunciation of another proposition less startling, but if anything more literally true. The Chinese are a nation of liars. If innate ideas were possible, the idea of lying would form the foundation of the Chinese mind.  They lie by instinct; at any rate, they lie from imitation, and improve their powers in this respect by the most assiduous practice.  They seem to prefer lying to speaking the truth, even when there is no stake at issue; and as for shame at being found out, the very feeling is unfamiliar to them.  The gravest and most serious works in Chinese literature abound in lies; their histories lie; and their scientific works lie.  Nothing in China seems to have escaped this taint.

Essentially a people of fiction, the Chinese have given up as much time to the composition and perusal of romances as any other nation on the globe; and this phase of lying is harmless enough in its way.  Neither can it be said to interfere with the happiness of foreigners either in or out of China that Chinese medical, astrological, geomantic, and such works, pretend to a knowledge of mysteries we know to be all humbug.  On the other hand, they ought to keep their lying to themselves and for their own special amusement.  They have no right to circulate written and verbal reports that foreigners dig out babies’ eyes and use them in their pharmacopoeia.  They have no right to publish such hideous, loathsome pamphlets, as the one which was some years ago translated into too faithful English by an American missionary, who had better have kept his talents to himself, or to post such inflammatory placards as the one which is placed at the end of this volume.  Self-glorification, when no one suffers therefrom, is only laughable; and we shall take the liberty of presenting here the translation of an article which appeared in the Shun Pao of the 19th September 1874, as a specimen of the manner in which Chinamen delight to deceive even themselves on certain little points connected with the honour and glory of China.  The writer says:—­

“I saw yesterday in the Peking Gazette of the 10th September 1874 that the Prince of Kung had been degraded,—­a fact received with mingled feelings of surprise and regret by natives of the Middle and Western kingdoms alike.  For looking back to the last year of the reign Hsien Feng, we find that not only internal trouble had not been set at rest when external difficulties began to spring up around us, and war and battle were the order of the day.  To crown all, His Majesty became a guest in the realm above, leaving only a child of tender years, unable to hold in his hands