The extraordinary feeling of hatred and contempt evinced by the Chinese nation for missionaries of every denomination who settle in their country, naturally suggests the question whether Christianity is likely to prove a boon to China, if, indeed, it ever succeeds in taking root at all.  That under the form of Roman Catholicism, it once had a chance of becoming the religion of the Empire, and that that chance was recklessly sacrificed to bigotry and intolerance, is too well known to be repeated; but that such an opportunity will ever occur again is quite beyond the bounds, if not of possibility, at any rate of probability.  Missionary prospects are anything but bright in China just now, in spite of rosily worded “reports,” and annual statistics of persons baptized.  A respectable Chinaman will tell you that only thieves and bad characters who have nothing to lose avail themselves of baptism, as a means of securing “long nights of indolence and ease” in the household of some enthusiastic missionary at from four to ten dollars a month.  Educated men will not tolerate missionaries in their houses, as many have found to their cost; and the fact cannot be concealed that the foreign community in China suffers no small inconvenience and incurs considerable danger for a cause with which a large majority of its members has no sympathy whatever.  It would, however, be invidious to dwell upon the class of natives who allow themselves to be baptized and pretend to accept dogmas they most certainly do not understand, or on the mental and social calibre of numbers of those gentlemen who are sent out to convert them; we will confine ourselves merely to considering what practical benefits Christianity would be likely to confer upon the Chinese at large.  And this we may fairly do, not being of those who hold that all will be damned but the sect of that particular church to which they themselves happen to belong; but believing that the Chinese have as good a chance as anybody else of whatever happiness may be in store for the virtuous, whether they become Christians or whether they do not.

In the course of eight years’ residence in China, we have never met a drunken man in the streets.  Opium-smokers we have seen in all stages of intoxication; but no drunken brawls, no bruised and bleeding wives.  Would Christianity raise the Chinese to the standard of European sobriety?  Would it bring them to renounce opium, only to replace it with gin?  Would it cause them to become more frugal, to live more economically than they do now on their bowl of rice and cabbage, moistened with a drink of tea, and perhaps supplemented with a few whiffs of the mildest possible tobacco?  Would it cause them to be more industrious than—­e.g., the wood-carvers of Ningpo who work daily from sunrise to dusk, with two short intervals for meals?  Would it make them more filial?—­justly renowned as they are for unremitting care of aged and infirm parents.  More fraternal?—­where every family is a