In our perambulations about Chinatown, we must next visit an opium-joint. This mysterious place was situated in a long, rambling building through which we had to move cautiously so as not to stumble into some pit or dangerous hole or trap-door. Here were no electric lights to drive away the gloom, here no gas-jets to show us where we were treading, nothing but an occasional lamp dimly burning. Yet we went on as if drawn by a magic spell. At last we were ushered into a room poorly furnished. It was not more than twelve feet square, and in the corner was an apology for a bed. On this was stretched an old man whose face was sunken, whose eyes were lusterless, whose hand was long and thin and bony, and whose voice was attenuated and pitched in a falsetto key. The guide said that this old Chinaman was sixty-eight years of age, and that he had had a life of varied experience. He was a miner by profession, but had spent all his earnings long ago, and was now an object of charity as well as of pity. Indeed he was the very embodiment of misery, a wretched, woebegone, human being! He had lost one arm in an accident during his mining days. Chinamen in the thirst for gold had mining claims as well as Anglo-Saxons. This desire for the precious metal seems to be universal. All men more or less love gold; and for its acquisition they will undergo great hardship, face peril, risk their lives. This aged Chinaman for whom there was no future except to join his ancestors in another life, was now a pauper notwithstanding all his quest for the treasures of the mines; and his chief solace, if it be comfort indeed to have the senses benumbed periodically, or daily, and then wake up to the consciousness of loss and with a feeling of despair betimes, was in his opium pipe, which he smoked fifty times a day at the cost of half a dollar, the offering of charity, the dole received from his pitying countrymen or the interested traveller who might come to his forlorn abode. But what a fascination the opium drug has for the Chinaman, and not for him alone, but for children of other races—for men and women who, when under its spell, will sell honour and sacrifice all that is dear in life, and even forego the prospect and the blessed hope of entering at last into the bliss of the heavenly world! But what is opium, what its parentage and history? The Greeks will tell you it is their opion or opos, the juice of the poppy, and the botanist will point out the magic flower for you as the Papaver Somniferum, whose home was originally in the north of Europe and in Western Asia; but now, just as the tribes of the earth have spread out into many lands, so has the poppy which has brought much misery as well as blessing to men, found its way into various quarters of the globe, particularly those countries which are favoured with sunny skies. It is cultivated in Turkey, India, Persia, Egypt, Algeria and Australia, as well as in China. I now recall vividly the beautiful poppy fields at Assiut, Esneh and Kenneh, by the banks of the Nile, in which such subtle powers were sleeping potent for ill or good as employed by man for deadening his faculties or soothing pain in reasonable measure. These flowers were of the reddish kind. In China they have the white, red and purple varieties, which, as you gaze on them, seem to set the fields aglow with fire and attract your gaze as if you were enchained to the spot by an unseen power. The seeds are sown in November and December, in rows which are eighteen inches apart, and four-fifths of the opium used in China is the home-product, though it was not so formerly. In March or April the poppy flowers according to the climate, the soil, and the location. The opium is garnered in April or May, and prepared for the market. The Chinese merchant values most of all the Shense drug, while the Ynnan and the Szechuen drugs take next rank. The opium is generally made into flat cakes and wrapped up in folds of white paper. It is said that it was introduced into China in the reign of Taitsu, between the years A.D. 1280 and 1295; but it is worthy of note that up to the year 1736 it was imported only in small quantities and employed simply for its medicinal properties, as a cure for diarrhoea, dysentery, and fevers, hemorrhage and other ills. It was in the year 1757 that the monopoly of the cultivation of the poppy in India passed into the hands of the East India Company through the victory of Lord Clive over the Great Mogul of Bengal at Plassey; and from this time the importation of the drug into China became a matter of great profit financially. In 1773 the whole quantity imported was only two hundred chests. In 1776 it had increased to one thousand chests, while in 1790 it leaped up to four thousand and fifty-four chests. The Chinese Emperor, Keaking, becoming alarmed at its growing use and its pernicious effect when eaten or smoked, forbade its importation, and passed laws punishing persons who made use of it otherwise than medicinally, and the extreme penalty was sometimes transportation, and sometimes death. Yet the trade increased, and in the decade between 1820 and 1830 the importation was as high as sixteen thousand, eight hundred and seventy-seven chests. The evil became so great that in 1839 a royal proclamation was put forth threatening English opium ships with confiscation if they did not keep out of Chinese waters. This was not heeded, and then Lin, the Chinese Commissioner, gave orders to destroy twenty thousand, two hundred and ninety-one chests of opium, each containing 149-1/3 pounds, the valuation of which was $10,000,000. Still the work of smuggling went on and the result was what is known as the Opium War, which was ended in 1842 by the treaty of Nanking. China was forced by Great Britain to pay $21,000,000 indemnity, to cede in perpetuity to England the city of Hong Kong, and to give free access to British ships entering the ports of Canton, Amoy, Foochoofoo, Ningpo and Shanghai. The importation of opium from India is still carried on—but the quantity is not so great as formerly, owing to the cultivation of the plant in China. The Hong Kong government has an opium farm, for which to-day it receives a rental of $15,500 per month. The farmer sells on an average from eight to ten tins of opium daily, the tins being worth about $150 each. His entire receipts from his sales of the drug are about $45,000 per month. This opium farmer is well known to be the largest smuggler of opium into China; and not without reason does Lord Charles Beresford, in his book "The Break-up of China," say: "Thus, indirectly the Hong Kong government derives a revenue by fostering an illegitimate trade with a neighbouring and friendly Power, which cannot be said to redound to the credit of the British Government. It is in direct opposition to the sentiments and tradition of the laws of the British Empire." It was here in Chinatown, in San Francisco, that I was brought face to face with the havoc that is made through the opium trade and the use of the pernicious drug in eating and smoking. I was told that Europeans and Americans sometimes sought the opium-joints for the purpose of indulgence in the vice of smoking. Even women were known to make use of it in this way. The old man whom I visited was lying on his left side, with his head slightly raised on a hard pillow covered with faded leather. He took the pipe in his right hand, the other, as I have already said, having been cut off in the mines. Then he laid down the pipe by his side with the stem near his mouth. The next movement was to take a kind of long rod, called a dipper, with a sharp end and a little flattened. This he dipped in the opium which had the consistency of thick molasses. He twisted the dipper round and then held the drop which adhered to it over the lamp, which was near him. He wound the dipper round and round until the opium was roasted and had a brown colour. He then thrust the end of the dipper with the prepared drug into the opening of the pipe, which was somewhat after the Turkish style with its long stem. He next held the bowl of the pipe over the lamp until the opium frizzled. Then putting the stem of the pipe in his mouth he inhaled the smoke, and almost immediately exhaled it through the mouth and nostrils. While smoking he removed the opium, going through the same process as before, and it all took about fifteen minutes. What the old man's feelings were he did not tell us, but he seemed very contented, as if then he cared for nothing, as if he had no concern for the world and its trials. But one must read the graphic pages of Thomas De Quincey in his "Confessions of an English Opium Eater," in order to know what are the joys and what the torments of him who is addicted to the use of the pernicious drug. It was while De Quincey was in Oxford that he came under its tyranny. At first taken to allay neuralgic pain, and then resorted to as a remedy on all occasions of even the slightest suffering, it wove its chain around him like a merciless master who puts his servant in bonds. But though given to its use all his life afterwards, in later years he took it moderately. Still he was its slave. A man of marvellous genius, a master of the English tongue, he had not full mastery of his own appetite; and one of such talent, bound Andromeda-like to the rock of his vice, ready to be devoured in the sea of his perplexity by what is worse than the dragon of the story, he deserves our pity, nay, even our tears. He tells us how he was troubled with tumultuous dreams and visions, how he was a participant in battles, strifes; and how agonies seized his soul, and sudden alarms came upon him, and tempests, and light and darkness; how he saw forms of loved ones who vanished in a moment; how he heard "everlasting farewells;" and sighs as if wrung from the caves of hell reverberated again and again with "everlasting farewells." "And I awoke in struggles, and cried aloud, 'I will sleep no more!'"



CHAPTER IX

MUSIC, GAMBLING, EATING, THEATRE-GOING

In Chinatown—A Musician's Shop—A Secret Society—Gambling Houses—"The Heathen Chinee"—Fortune-telling—The Knife in the Fan-Case—A Boarding House—A Lesson for Landlords—A Kitchen—A Goldsmith's Shop—The Restaurant—Origin of the Tea-Plant—What a Chinaman Eats—The Tobacco or Opium Pipe—A Safe with Eight Locks—The Theatre—Women by Themselves—The Play—The Stage—The Actors—The Orchestra and the Music—The Audience—A Death on the Stage—The Theatre a Gathering Place—No Women Actors—A Wise Provision—Temptations—Real Acting—Men the Same Everywhere.

The reader will now accompany us to a musician's shop in our wanderings through Chinatown. This is located in a basement and is a room about fifteen feet wide and some twenty feet deep. This son of Jubal from the Flowery Kingdom was about fifty-five years old and a very good-natured man. He received us with a smile, and when he was requested by the guide to play for us he sat down before an instrument somewhat like the American piano, called Yong Chum. The music was of a plaintive character, and was lacking in the melody of a Broadwood or a Steinway. Then he played on another instrument which resembled a bandore or banjo and was named Sem Yim. Afterwards he took up a Chinese flute and played a tune, which was out of the ordinary and was withal of a cheerful nature. He then showed us something that was striking and peculiar—a Chinese fiddle with two strings. The bow strings were moved beneath the fiddle strings. The music was by no means such as to charm one, and you could not for a moment imagine that you were listening to a maestro playing on a Cremona. The Chinese, while they have a reputation for philosophy after the example of their great men, like Confucius and Mencius, and while there are poets of merit among them like Su and Lin, yet can not be said to excel in musical composition and rendering. The tune with which our Chinese friend sought to entertain us on his fiddle was, "A Hot Time in the Old Town To-night." He thought this would be agreeable to our American ears. Meanwhile I glanced around this music-room and among other things I saw, and which interested me, were several effigies of men, characters in Chinese history. Some were no doubt true to life while others were caricatures of the persons whom they represented. It might be styled an Eden Musee.

Leaving the musician's, after giving him a suitable fee for entertaining us, we turned our footsteps towards the Chee Kung Tong. This is a Chinese secret society. The Chinese are wont to associate themselves together, even if they do not mingle much with men of other nations. They have their gatherings for social purposes and for improvement and pastime, and, like the Anglo-Saxon and the Latin races, they have their mystic signs and passwords. Of course we were not permitted to enter the Chee Kung Tong Hall, however much we desired to cross its mysterious threshold. The door was well guarded, and Chinamen passing in had to give assurance that they were entitled to the privilege. On the night when the detective from Police Headquarters accompanied us we made an attempt to enter a Chinese gambling house. The entrance even to this was well guarded; although the sentinel unwittingly left the door open for a moment as a Chinaman was passing in. The detective seeing his opportunity went in boldly and bade us to follow him. In a few moments all was confusion. We heard hurrying feet in the adjoining room, and then excited men appeared at the head of the passage way and waved their arms to and fro while they talked rapidly in high tones. Outside already some fifty men had collected together, and these were also talking and gesticulating wildly. The detective then said to us that it would be wise to retreat and leave the place lest we might meet with violence. We did so, but the uproar among the Chinese did not subside for some time. We pitied the poor sentinel who had allowed us to slip in, for we knew that he would be severely punished after our departure. The Chinese are noted for their gambling propensities, and there are many gambling houses in Chinatown. This vice is one of their great pastimes, and whenever they are not engaged in business they devote themselves either to gambling, the amusements of the theatre, the pleasures of the restaurant, or the seductive charms of the opium pipe.

Later in my saunterings I went into a kind of restaurant, where I saw a number of Chinese men and boys playing cards and dominoes and dice. They went on with the games as if they were oblivious to us. I noticed there were Chinese coins of small value on the tables, and some of the players were apparently winning while others were losing. The latter, however, gave no indication that they were in the least degree disappointed. Of course, as a rule they play after their own fashion, having their own games and methods. Minister Wu, of Washington, when asked recently if he liked our American games, replied that he did not understand any of them. No doubt this is true of the majority of Chinamen in the United States. In thinking of the Chinese and gambling one always recalls Bret Harte's "Plain Language From Truthful James of Table Mountain," popularly known as "The Heathen Chinee," one of the best humorous poems in the English language. You can fairly see the merry eyes of the author of the "Argonauts of '49" dancing with pleasure as he describes the game of cards between "Truthful James," "Bill Nye" and "Ah Sin."

"Which we had a small game, And Ah Sin took a hand; It was euchre: the same He did not understand; But he smiled as he sat by the table With a smile that was childlike and bland.

"Yet the cards they were stacked In a way that I grieve, And my feelings were shocked At the state of Nye's sleeve, Which was stuffed full of aces and bowers, And the same with intent to deceive.

"But the hands that were played By that heathen Chinee, And the points that he made. Were quite frightful to see— Till at last he put down the right bower, Which the same Nye had dealt unto me.

"Then I looked up at Nye, And he gazed upon me: And he rose with a sigh, And said, 'Can this be? We are ruined by Chinee cheap labour'— And he went for that heathen Chinee."

There are all kinds of jugglers in Chinatown and among them are numerous fortune-tellers. This kind of pastime is as old as the human race, and you find the man who undertakes to reveal to you the secrets of the future among all peoples. The Orientals are always ready to listen to the "neby" or the necromancer or the fakir or the wandering minstrel, who improvises for you and sings for you the good things which are in store for you. We see this tendency among our own people who would have their destiny pointed out by means of a pack of cards, by the reading of the palm of the hand, in the grounds in the tea-cup, and by other signs. It was with some interest then that we glanced at the mystic words and signs which adorned the entrance to Sam Wong Yung's fortune-teller's place.

Passing on, we next visited a hardware shop, where you could purchase various kinds of Chinese cutlery. Among other things that attracted my attention was a simple-looking Chinese fan, apparently folded up. On examining it I found that inside of the fan-case was a sharp knife or blade like a wide dagger. This could be carried in an unsuspecting manner into the midst of a company of men, and in a moment, if you had in your breast the wicked spirit of revenge, your enemy could be weltering in his life blood at your feet. It suggested all kinds of tragedies, and no doubt its invention had behind it some treacherous impulse. The writer ventured to purchase it, but he hastens to announce to his friends that his purposes are good and innocent. Though in the same category as the sword or dagger hidden in a walking-stick or a concealed weapon, this bloodthirsty knife will repose harmlessly in its fan-case like a sleeping babe in his cradle.

A Chinese boarding house next claimed our inspection. It was rather a forbidding place, but no doubt the Chinaman was well content with its accommodations. It was a long, rambling structure, and it seemed to me as if I were going through an underground passage in walking from room to room. The various halls were narrow, indeed so narrow that two persons meeting in them could not without difficulty pass each other. The beds, which brought a dollar a month, were one above another in tiers or recesses in the walls. Generally a curtain of a reddish hue depended in front of them. They reminded one of the berths in a ship or of the repositories of the dead in the Roman Catacombs. Two hundred and twenty-five persons were lodged in this dark, mysterious labyrinth. In another house there were five hundred and fifty people lodged in seventy-five rooms. Possibly the owners of tenement houses in our large cities, who crowd men and women into a narrow space and through unpitying agents reap a rich harvest regardless of the sufferings of their fellow-beings, have been taking lessons from the landlords of Chinatown. I said to myself, as I went to and fro through these narrow passages, dimly lighted with a lamp, and the lights were few and far between, if a fire should break out, at midnight, when all are wrapt in slumber, what a holocaust would be here! And whose would the sin and the shame be? There are good and ample fire-appliances for the protection of the city, but the poor Chinamen hemmed in, as in a dark prison-house, would surely be suffocated by smoke or be consumed in the flames. When the old theatre was burned down, twenty-five men, and probably more, perished, although there were means of escape from this building. I was told that the wood from which the largest hotel in Chinatown, its Palace hotel so to speak, was constructed in the early days, was brought around Cape Horn, and cost $350 per thousand feet. This was before saw-mills were erected in the forests among the foothills and on the slopes of the Sierras. The kitchen of the big boarding house was a novelty. It was nothing in any respect like the well-appointed kitchens of our hotels with their great ranges and open fire-places where meats may be roasted slowly on the turnspit. On one side of the kitchen there was a kind of stone-parapet about two feet and a half high, and on the top of this there were eight fire-places. As the Chinamen cook their own food there might be as many as eight men here at one time. I asked the guide if they ever quarreled. His answer was significant. "No! and it would be difficult to bring eight men of any other nationality together in such close proximity without differences arising and contentions taking place; but the Chinamen never trouble each other." There was only one man cooking at such a late hour as that in which we visited the kitchen, about half-past ten o'clock at night. He used charcoal, and as the coals were fanned the fire looked like that of a forge in a blacksmith's shop.

On our way to the Chinese Restaurant we stepped into a goldsmith's shop. There were a few customers present, and the proprietor waited on them with great diligence. At benches like writing desks, on which were tools of various descriptions, were seated some half a dozen workmen who were busily engaged. They never looked up while we stood by and examined their work, which was of a high order. The filagree-work was beautiful and artistic. There were numerous personal ornaments, some of solid gold, others plaited. The bracelets which they were making might fittingly adorn the neck of a queen. I learned that these skilled men worked sixteen hours a day on moderate wages. Their work went into first-class Chinese bric-a-brac stores and into the jewelry stores of the merchants who supply the rich and cultured with their ornaments.

But it is time that we visit the restaurant. This is located in a stately building and is one of the first class. It overlooks the old Plaza, though you enter from the street one block west of the Plaza. You ascend broad stairs, and then you find yourself in a wide room or dining hall in two sections. Here are tables round and square, and here you are waited on by the sons of the Fiery Flying Dragon clad in well-made tunics, sometimes of silk material. As your eye studies the figure before you, the dress and the physiognomy, you do not fail to notice the long pigtail, the Chinaman's glory, as a woman's delight is her long hair. The tea, which is fragrant, is served to you out of dainty cups, China cups, an evidence that the tea-drinking of Americans and Europeans is derived from the Celestial Empire. The tea-plant is said, by a pretty legend, to have been formed from the eyelids of Buddha Dharma, which, in his generosity, he cut off for the benefit of men. If you wish for sweetmeats they will be served in a most tempting way. You can also have chicken, rice, and vegetables, and fruits, after the Chinese fashion. You can eat with your fingers if you like, or use knives and forks, or, if you desire to play the Chinaman, with the chop-sticks. In Chinatown the men and the women do not eat together. This is also the custom of China, and hence there is not what we look upon as an essential element of home-life—father and mother and children and guests, if there be such, gathered in a pleasant dining-room with the flow of edifying conversation and the exchange of courtesies. Confucius never talked when he ate, and his disciples affect his taciturnity at their meals. Though in scholastic times, in European institutions and in religious communities, men kept silence at their meals, yet the hours were enlivened by one who read for the edification of all. The interchange of thought, however,—the spoken word one with another, at the family table, is the better way. Silence may be golden, but speech is more golden if seasoned with wisdom; and even the pleasant jest and the bon mot have their office and exercise a salutary influence on character and conduct.

The food of Chinamen generally is very simple. Rice is the staple article of consumption. They like fruits and use them moderately. They eat things too, which would be most repulsive to the epicurean taste of an Anglo-Saxon. Even lizards and rats and young dogs they will not refuse. But these things are prepared in a manner to tempt the appetite. After you have partaken of your repast in the Chinese Restaurant, if you request it, tobacco pipes will be brought in, and your waiter will fill and light them for you and your friends. You can even, with a certain degree of caution, indulge in the opium pipe, the joy of the Chinaman. As you draw on this pipe and take long draughts you lapse into a strange state, all your ills seem to vanish, and you become indifferent to the world. The beggar in imagination becomes a millionaire, and for the time he feels that he is in the midst of courtly splendours. But, ah! When one awakes from his dream the pleasures are turned into ashes, and the glory fades as the fires of the pipe die. Sic transit gloria mundi! On the walls of the restaurant were various Chinese decorations. The inevitable lantern was in evidence. Here also were tablets with sentences in the language of the Celestials. But there was one thing that struck me forcibly as I examined the various objects in the rooms. In the rear half of the restaurant, on the north side of the room, stood a Chinese safe, somewhat in fashion like our ordinary American safe. It was not, however, secured with the combination lock with which we are all familiar. It shut like a cupboard, and had eight locks on a chain as it were. Every lock represented a man whose money or whose valuables were in the safe. Each of the eight men had a key for his own lock, different from all the other seven. When the safe is to be opened all the eight men must be present. Is this a comment on the honesty of the Chinaman? Is this indicative of their lack of confidence in each other? And yet as a house-servant the Chinaman is trusty and faithful and honest. He is also silent as to what transpires in his master's house and at his employer's table. The writer has conversed with people who have had Chinamen in their service, he has also visited the homes of gentlemen where only Chinese servants are employed in domestic work, and all bear testimony to their excellence and faithfulness and honesty.

No visit to Chinatown would be complete without an inspection of its theatre and a study of the audience. Here you see the Celestials en masse, you behold them in their amusements. Let us repair then to the Jackson Street Theatre. The building was once a hotel, now it is a place of pastime; and singularly under the same roof is a small Joss-House,—for the Chinaman couples his amusements with his religion. It rather reminds one of those buildings in Christian lands, which, while used for religious services, yet have kitchens and places for theatrical shows and amusements under the same roof. But the play has already begun. Indeed it began at six o'clock—and it is now nearly eleven P.M. It will, however, continue till midnight. This is the rule; for the Chinaman does nothing by halves, and he takes his amusement in a large quantity at a time. The theatre had galleries on three sides and these were packed with men and women as well as the main floor. There were altogether a thousand persons present, and it was indeed a strange sight to look into their faces, dressed alike as they were, and all seemingly looking alike. The women were seated in the west gallery on the right hand of the stage by themselves. This is an Eastern custom which Asiatic nations generally observe. Even in their religious assemblies the women sit apart. The custom arose primarily from the idea that woman is inferior to man. In the Jewish temple as well as in the synagogue, the sexes were separated. It is so to-day in most synagogues. Among the Mohammedans, too, woman is ruled out and is kept apart; and so strong is custom it even affected the Christian church in Oriental lands in the early days. You see a trace of it still in the East in church-arrangements.

A Chinese play takes a number of weeks or even months in which to complete it. It may be founded on domestic life or on some historic scene. Sometimes the history of a province of the Chinese Empire is the theme. The plays are mostly comedy. There are no grand tragedies like those of the old Greek poets. The Chinese have had no such writers as Sophocles or Euripides, no such creators of plays as Shakespeare, and they have no such actors as a Garrick or an Irving. We were invited to seats on the stage—which had no curtains, everything being done openly. In order to reach the stage the guide conducted us down the passageway or aisle through the midst of the audience. Then we ascended a platform at the end of the stage and went behind it into a long room where the actors were putting on costumes of a fantastic shape and painting their faces with bright coloured pigments. Some of them also put on masks that would frighten a person should he meet the wearers suddenly. The majority of the masks were caricatures of the human face and were comical in expression. We felt quite at home on the stage at once; for here, seated on either side with the actors in the midst of the company, were many of our friends lay and clerical, men and women, looking on in wonder at the strange performance. An orchestra of six or seven members was here on the back part of the stage—and the music! It consisted of the beating of drums, the sounding of gongs and other outlandish noises. Now and then above the din you could catch the sound of a clarionet and the feeble strains of a banjo. It was indeed pandemonium! Yet above all the noise and confusion you could hear the high pitched voices of the actors as they shouted and gesticulated. The audience, I noticed, was most attentive and decorous. They were evidently well pleased with the play; and what was quite remarkable they seemed to have neither ears nor eyes for their visitors. Of course they must have seen us, but with an indifference that almost bordered on contempt they paid no attention to us.

In the play one of the actors died on the stage, but the death had nothing of the tragic or heroic in it. After a brief interval he rose up and walked off amid the merriment of the audience.

Many Chinamen come here to spend their evening. The admission is fifty cents, which entitles one to a seat. As the play runs through six hours at a time, they feel that they get the worth of their money. They meet their friends there also; and although they are not very demonstrative towards each other, like the warm blooded races of Italy and Greece and Northern Europe and the United States, yet they are very happy in the presence of men of their own race and nation. The theatre is about the only place where they can meet on common ground, at least in large bodies, and then, as we have already intimated, the theatre is something more than a place of amusement in their eyes. Their forefathers liked such plays, and they believe that the spirits of the dead are in a certain sense present to share in the enjoyments of men in the body.

Only men and boys act on the Chinese stage. There are no women, though the female sex is personated. This has its advantages. Woman is kept out of harm; she is not subject to the indignities and temptations which beset her among other peoples who employ her services. Of course there are good and virtuous women on the stage—very many, I trust! But it will be admitted that the life of an actress is one of trial. She must of necessity be brought into intercourse with an element whose moral ideals are not the loftiest, and she must have unusual strength of character to preserve her integrity. She can do it! I believe that men and women can resist temptation in all spheres, in all vocations of life; I have great faith in humanity, especially when sustained by divine helps; but we must not subject the bow to too much tension lest it break. The personating of characters which have in them a spice of wickedness, the taking of the part in a play which represents the downfall of a virtuous person, the setting forth of the passions of love and hatred, must in time produce a powerful effect on the mind of a young woman, and there is danger that the neophyte on the stage will be contaminated with the base things of life before strength of character is developed. The Chinese are to be commended in this respect, whatever their motive in excluding their women from the stage. The reproduction of Greek plays, in some of our universities, where only men take the parts, shows what could be done among us on the stage, and successfully.

The Chinese actors whom I saw, exhibited a great deal of human nature in their acting. There was the full display of the human passions; and they entered into their work with zest as if it were real life. Some of the men in the audience were smoking cigars, others cigarettes. The Asiatic has a fondness for cigarettes. You see the men of the East smoking everywhere, whether in Syria, or Egypt, or Nubia, or Arabia. And is it not true that men are much the same the world over, in their pastimes and pursuits, their loves and their pleasures?



CHAPTER X

THE JOSS-HOUSE, CHINESE IMMIGRATION AND CHINESE THEOLOGY

In Chinatown—Conception of God—The Joss House—Chinese Mottoes—The Joss a Chinaman—Greek and Egyptian Ideas of God—Different Types of Madonnas—Chinese Worship and Machine Prayers—The Joss-House and the Christian Church—Chinese Immigration—Chinamen in the United States—A Plague Spot—Fire Crackers and Incense Sticks—The Lion and the Hen—The Man with Tears of Blood—Filial Piety—The Joss—Origin of the World—Creation of Man—Spirits of the Dead—Ancestral Rites—The Chinese Emperor—What Might Have Been—The Hand of God.

Our study of Chinatown and the civilisation of the country of the Yellow Dragon, as seen in the City of the Golden Gate, has thus far brought us in contact with the social and business life of the Chinese and their amusements; but we are now to visit one of their temples of worship, the Joss-House. And here the real man will be revealed; for it is in religious services and ceremonies and beliefs that we get a true knowledge of a race or a nation. The conception of God which you have is the key to your character. If your views of Deity are low and ignoble you will not achieve any greatness in the world; but if on the other hand you invest the Being Whom you worship with noble attributes and look upon Him as just and holy, a God of mercy and judgment, your breast will be animated with grand thoughts and lofty ideals will impel you to the performance of heroic deeds. The word Joss, which we use for a Chinese idol or god, seems to be derived from the Portugese, Dios, or rather it is the Pidgin English of Dios. A Joss-House then is a Chinese idol or god-house. We are now standing before such a place of worship. This is on the corner of Kearney and Pine Streets, and is built of brick, and as we look up we see that it is three stories high. There is a marble slab over the entrance with an inscription which tells us that this building is the Sze-Yap Asylum. Let us enter. The lower story, we find, is given up to business of one kind or another connected with the Sze-Yap Immigration Society. This, we note, is richly adorned with valuable tapestries and silken hangings, and the rich colours attract the eye at once. If you wish to sit down you can, and enjoy the novelty of the scene. For here are easy chairs which invite you to rest. In your inspection of the place you venture to peer into the room back of this, and you perceive at once that there is the lounging place of the establishment. You see men on couches perfectly at ease and undisturbed by your presence, smoking cigarettes or opium, the Chinaman's delight. If you desire to penetrate further into the building you will come to the kitchen where the dainty dishes of the Chinese are cooked; but you retreat and ascend a staircase in the southeast corner of the first room, and soon you are in the Joss-House proper. This second story is devoted exclusively to religious purposes. The room to which you are now introduced is about thirty feet square, and as you look around you perceive the hangings on the walls and the rich decorations of the ceiling. Here are placards on the walls, which, your guide will tell you, if you are not conversant with the Chinese tongue, bear on them sentences from the writings of Confucius, Mencius, and others, with exhortations to do nothing against integrity or virtue, to venerate ancestors and to be careful not to injure one's reputation in the eyes of Americans;—all of which is most excellent advice, and worthy of the attention of men everywhere. You then cast your eyes on the gilded spears, and standards and battle-axes standing in the corners of the Temple, and as you look up you almost covet the great Chinese lanterns suspended from the ceiling. Your eyes are finally directed to the altar, near which, and on it, are flowers artificial and natural. At the rear in a kind of a niche in the Joss or god. The figure of this deity was like a noble Chinaman, well-dressed, with a moustache, and having in his eyes a far-away expression. He wore a tufted crown, which made him look somewhat war-like. It is but natural that this Joss should be a blind man. The Greek gods and goddesses have Greek countenances. The idolatrous nations fashion their deities after their own likeness. And what are these but deified human beings? It is so in Greek and Roman mythology. The Egyptian Osiris is an Egyptian. It is true that some of the ancients outside of Hebrew Revelation had a better conception of God than others. Even in Egypt where birds and beasts and creeping things received divine honors there were scholars and poets who had an exalted idea of the Deity, as witness the Poems of Pentaur. This is true also of some of the Greek Poets who had a deep insight into divine things. It is not a little interesting to note also that artists of different nations paint the Madonna after the style of their own women. Very few of the pictures in the great art galleries are after the style of face which you see in the Orient. Hence there are Dutch Madonnas, and Italian and French and English types. There were no worshippers in the Joss-House at the hour when I visited it. Worship is not a prominent feature of Chinese religious life. The good Chinaman comes once a year at least, perhaps oftener, and burns a bit of perforated paper before his Joss, in order to show that he is not forgetful of his deity. This bit of paper is about six inches long and two inches wide. He also puts printed or written papers in a machine which is run like a clock. Well, this is an easy way to say prayers. And are there not many prayers offered, not merely by Chinamen, that are machine prayers, soulless, heartless, meaningless, and faithless, and which bring no answer? But how simple, how beautiful, how sublime, the golden Prayer which the Divine Master taught His disciples! Lord, teach us how to pray. If the noble Liturgy of the Church is properly rendered,—for it is the expansion of the Lord's Prayer,—there will be no machine-praying, and the answer to prayer will be rich and abundant. The contrast between the worship of the Joss and the worship of the true God in a Christian Church is striking and affords reflection. The former is of the earth earthy, the latter transports the devout worshipper to the throne of the Most High. There is no fear that the religion of the Joss-House will ever usurp the religion of the Christian altar. Men have expressed the fear that if the Chinese came in overwhelming numbers to America they would endanger the Christian faith by their idolatry. But would this be true? Has Christianity anything to dread? What impression has the Joss-House made all these years on the life of San Francisco outside of Chinatown? None whatever, except to make the reflecting man value the Christian faith with its elevating influences and its blessed hopes all the more. It is a mistake then to exclude Chinamen from our shores on the ground that they will do harm to Christianity. On the contrary the Church will do them good. The Gospel is the leaven which will be the salvation of heathen men. Did it not go forth into the Gentile world on its glorious mission, and did it not convert many nations in the first ages? Has it lost its potency to-day? No! It is as powerful as ever to win men from their idols and their evil lives. The question of Chinese immigration is a large one. It has its social and its political aspects. It is found all along the Pacific coast that Chinamen make good and faithful servants. The outcry against them as competing with white laborers and artisans is more the result of political agitation for political purposes than good judgment. Where they have been displaced on farms, in mills, in warehouses, in domestic life, white men and women have not been found to take their places and do the work which they can do so well. Under the Geary Act immigration has been restricted and the numbers of the Chinese in the United States have been gradually decreasing. In the year 1854 there were only 3,000 Chinese in the City of San Francisco; but even then there was agitation against them. It was Governor Bigler who called them "coolies," and this term they repudiated with the same abhorrence which the negro or black man has for the term "nigger." They kept on increasing, however, until in 1875 there were in the whole State of California 130,000. Of this number 30,000 were in San Francisco. To-day there are only about 46,000 in California and there are not more than thirty thousand of these in the City of San Francisco. There are only 110,000 Chinese altogether in the United States proper. Even the most ardent exclusionist can see from this that there is nothing to dread as to an overwhelming influx that will threaten the integrity and existence of our civilisation. The labour-question and the race-question and the international question, aroused by the presence of the Chinese within our borders, will from time to time cause agitation and provoke discussion and heated debate and evoke oratory of one kind or another; but the question which should be uppermost in the minds of wise statesmen is how shall they be assimilated to our life? How shall we make them Christians? The answer will be the best solution of the whole matter, if it has in mind the spiritual interests of the Chinaman and of all other heathen on our shores. There is indeed a plague spot in Chinatown, the social fester, which can and ought to be removed. But this is true of American San Francisco as well as of Chinatown. What, we may ask, are the men and women of as beautiful a city as ever sat on Bay or Lake or Sea-Shore or River, doing for its purgation, for its release from moral defilement and "garments spotted with the flesh?" This indeed is one of the searching questions to be asked of any other City, such as New York, Chicago, St. Louis, London, Paris, Cairo, Constantinople, as well as San Francisco. Among the other noticeable things in the Joss-House were two immense lanterns, as much for ornament as for utility. Then I saw a big drum and a bell, used in some of the processions of the Temple; for the Chinese take special delight in noises, indeed the more noise the better satisfied they are. During my visit some of the Joss-House attendants were shooting off fire crackers; and I was told that this was an acceptable offering to the Chinese god. One who was selling small, slender incense sticks, said that you could burn them to drive away the devil, an excellent purpose certainly. He also said they were good to keep moths away. Doubtless in the Chinese mind there is a connection between moths and evil spirits; but you smile at all such puerilities. They belong to the childhood of the world and not to the beginning of the twentieth century. Among other creatures which they venerate are chickens and lions. They invest the lion with divine attributes on account of his majesty and power. But the chicken? Well, it is a gentle creature. It is the embodiment of motherhood and it speaks of care, not only to the Chinaman's understanding, but to ours also. The Divine Teacher, greater than Confucius, said: "How often would I have gathered thy children together as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings!" Will China, now waking out of the sleep of centuries, allow Him to gather her children together under the wings of His Cross? "And ye would not." Oh, what pathos in these few words! But doubtless they will. Many during the war of the Boxers were "gathered" unto Him, emulating the zeal and courage and faith of the martyrs of the early days of the Church. As the hen is sacred in the eyes of the Chinaman, sacred as the peacock to Juno or the ibis to the Egyptians, they swear by her head, and an oath thus taken may not be broken.

One of the images which I saw in the Joss-House was pointed out as the God of the Door; and how suggestive this title and this office! Another figure, on the right side of the altar, which attracted my attention particularly was that of Toi Sin. He was dressed somewhat like a mandarin, and his head was bared, while tears as of blood were on his cheeks. He lived some three hundred years after the Advent of Christ; and owing to his disobedience to his parents, for which he was punished in his conscience, and otherwise, he grieved himself to death and wept tears of blood. His image, I was told, is placed in all Temples as a warning to children. It is a forceful lesson, and it is a timely warning. The one thing that is characteristic of a Chinaman is his filial piety. This filial piety was admired in all ages. It was inculcated in the old Hebrew Law and enforced with weighty considerations. It was a virtue among the Greeks as well as other peoples of the Gentile world; and I wonder not that when the heroes who captured Troy saw Aeneas carrying his aged father Anchises on his shoulders and leading his son, the puer Ascanius, by the hand, out of the burning city, they cheered him and allowed him to escape with his precious burden. A Chinaman is taught by precept and example to venerate his parents and to give them divine honors after death. Should a Chinese child be disobedient he would be punished severely by the bamboo or other instrument, and he would bring on himself the wrath of all his family. This strong sense of filial piety has done more for the stability and perpetuity of the Chinese Empire than ought else. It is a great element of strength and it leads to respect for customs and to the observance of maxims. Especially are burial places held in sacred esteem, and as they contain the ashes of the fathers they must not be disturbed or desecrated. In this respect we might emulate the Chinese, for they are a perfect illustration of the old precept, "Honour thy father and thy mother," which, in a busy, independent age, there is danger of forgetting. But we look with no little interest on the Joss above the altar, the Chinese god. His name is Kwan Rung, and I am informed that he was born about two hundred years after the beginning of the Christian era. Such is the person who is worshipped here. That he may not be hungry food is placed before him at times, and also water to drink. It is a poor, weak human god after all, a dying, dead man. How different the Creator of the ends of the earth, Who fainteth not neither is weary! The Chinese have no conception of the true God. They cannot conceive of the beauty and power and compassion of Jesus Christ until they are brought into the light of the Gospel. But what is Chinese theology? What do they teach about the origin of the world and man and his destiny. The scholars tell us that the world was formed by the duel powers Yang and Yin, who were in turn influenced by their own creations. First the heavens were brought into being, then the earth. From the co-operation of Yang and Yin the four seasons were produced, and the seasons gave birth to the fruits and flowers of the earth. The dual principles also brought forth fire and water, and the sun and moon and stars were originated. The idea of a Creator in the Biblical sense is far removed from the Chinese mind. Their first man, named Pwanku, after his appearance, was set to work to mould the Chaos out of which he was born. He had also to chisel out the earth which was to be his abode. Behind him through the clefts made by his chisel and mallet are sun and moon and stars, and at his right hand, as companions, may be seen the Dragon, the Tortoise and the Phoenix as well as the Unicorn. His labours extend over a period of eighteen thousand years. He grew in stature at the rate of six feet every day, and when his work was finished he died. The mountains were formed from his head, his breath produced the wind, and the moisture of his lips the clouds. His voice is the thunder, his limbs are the four poles, his veins the rivers, his sinews the wave-like motions of the earth, his flesh the fields, his beard the stars, his skin and hair herbs and trees, his teeth bones, his marrow metals, rocks and precious stones, his sweat rain, and the insects clinging to his body become men and women. Ah, how applicable the memorable line of Horace!

Parturiunt montes, nascetur ridiculus mus.

In regard to the spirits of the dead the Chinese believe that they linger still in the places which were their homes while alive on earth, and that they can be moved to pleasure or pain by what they see or hear. These spirits of the departed are delighted with offerings rendered to them and take umbrage at neglect. Believing also that the spirits can help or injure men they pray to them and make offerings to them. From this we can understand the meaning and object of ancestral rites. In these rites they honour and assist the dead as if they were alive still. Food, clothing and money are offered, as they believe they eat and drink and have need of the things of this life. Even theatrical exhibitions and musical entertainments are provided on the presumption that they are gratified with what pleased them while in the body. Now as all past generations are to be provided for, the Chinese Pantheon contains myriads of beings to be worshipped. But think, what a burden it becomes to the poor man who tries conscientiously to do his duty to the departed!

Now this ancestral worship leads to the deduction that it is an unfilial thing not to marry and beget sons by whom the line of descendants may be continued. Otherwise the line would cease, and the spirits would have none to care for them or worship them.

The Chinese view of rulers or Kings is also striking. According to the belief prevalent regarding government, Heaven and Earth were without speech. These created man who should represent them. This man is none other than the Emperor their vicegerent. He is constituted ruler over all people. This accounts for three things; first, the superiority which the Chinese emperors assume over the kings and rulers of other countries; secondly, for the long-lived empire of China, it being rebellion against Heaven to lift up one's self against the Emperor; and in the third place it explains to us why divine honours are paid to him. He is a sacred person. He is in a certain sense a god. The view is similar to that entertained by the Roman Emperors, who, in inscriptions and on coins employed the term Deus, and at times exacted divine honours. As we turn from the Joss-House and walk away from this bit of heathendom in the heart of an active, stirring, prosperous, great American city with its Christian civilisation and its Christian Churches and its Christian homes, we cannot but ask ourselves what would have been the history of the Pacific States, of California with its nearly eight hundred miles of coast, if the Chinese had settled here centuries ago? If they had been navigators and colonizers like the Phoenicians of old, like the Greeks and Romans, if they had had a Columbus, a Balboa, a Cabrillo, a Drake, the whole history of the country west of the Rocky Mountains might have been totally different. Millions of Chinamen instead of thousands might now be in possession of that great region of our land, and great cities like Canton and Fuchau, Pekin and Tientsin, might rise up on the view instead of San Diego and Los Angeles, Sacramento and San Francisco, with their idolatry and peculiar life and customs. Another question may be asked here by way of speculation. What would have been the effect of Chinese occupation of the Pacific coast on the Indians of all the region west of the Rocky Mountains? Would the followers of Confucius have incorporated them into their nationality, supplanted them, or caused them to vanish out of sight? What problems these for the ethnologist! Doubtless there would have been intermarriages of the races with new generations of commingled blood. And what would have been the result of this? There is a story which I have read somewhere, that long years ago a Chinese junk was driven by the winds to the shores of California, and that a Chinese merchant on board took an Indian maiden to wife and bore her home to the Flowery Kingdom, and that from this marriage was descended the famous statesman Li Hung Chang. But whatever the fortunes of the Indians, or the Chinese in their appropriation of the Pacific coast, it would not have been so advantageous to civilisation, to the progress of humanity. It would have been loss, and a hindrance to the Anglo-Saxon race destined now to rule the world and to break down every barrier and to set up the standard of the Cross everywhere for the glory of the true God. His hand is apparent in it all. He directs the great movements of history for the welfare of mankind, and He controls the destinies of nations for the advancement of His Kingdom!



CHAPTER XI

THE GENERAL CONVENTION OF 1901

First Services—Drake's Chaplain—Flavel Scott Mines—Bishop Kip—Growth of the Church in California—The General Convention in San Francisco—A Western Sermon—Personnel of the Convention—Distinguished Names—Subjects Debated—Missions of the Church—Apportionment Plan—The Woman's Auxiliary—The United Offering—Missionary Meeting in Mechanics' Pavilion—College Reunions—Zealous Men—A Dramatic Scene—Closing Service—Object Lesson—A Revelation to California—Examples of the Church's Training—Mrs. Twing—John I. Thompson—Golden Gate of Paradise.

As we turn away from Chinatown, with its Oriental customs and its peculiar life and its religion, we naturally give ourselves up to reflection on the mission and character of the Christian Church. While we recognise the good that is done by "all who profess and call themselves Christians," and thank God for every good work done in the name and for the sake of Jesus Christ, we may more especially consider the development of the Episcopal Church, pure and Apostolic in its origin, on the Pacific coast. We must ever keep in mind the services held in this region as far back as the year 1579, by Chaplain Francis Fletcher, under Admiral Drake, when the old Prayer Book of the Church of England was used on the shores of the Golden Gate, a fact commemorated, as we have already noted in a previous chapter, by the Prayer Book Cross erected by the late George W. Childs, of Philadelphia, in Golden Gate Park. This was prophetic of bright days to come. Time would roll on and bring its marvellous changes, but the truth of God would remain the same, and the Church would still flourish and the liturgy of our forefathers would hold its place in the affections of the people of all ranks, as at this day. Drake and Fletcher could hardly have realised, however, that the good seed which they then sowed, though it might remain hidden from view for many generations, would in time spring-up and yield a glorious harvest. We are not unmindful, of course, of the labours and teachings of the Franciscans among the California Indians; but when this order of things passed away and the Anglo-Saxon succeeded the Spaniard and the Mexican, it was but natural that the old Church which had made Great Britain what it was and is, aye, and moulded our civilisation on this continent, should seek a foothold in the beautiful lands by the Pacific and on the slopes of the Sierras. Many of the Church's sons were among the thousands who sought California in quest of gold, and these Argonauts she would follow whithersoever they went. They must not be left alone to wrestle with the temptations which would beset them far away from home and the hallowing influences of sacred institutions and religious services. Hence it is that we behold that zealous missionary of the Church, the Rev. Flavel Scott Mines, going forth to seek out Christ's sheep in San Francisco and elsewhere, and to gather them into the fold of the Good Shepherd. His history is most interesting and instructive. He was the son of Rev. John Mines, D.D., a Presbyterian clergyman of Virginia, and was born in Leesburg, Va., on the 31st of December, 1811. In 1830 he was graduated from Princeton Theological Seminary, and soon after he became pastor of the Laight Street Presbyterian Church, New York city, where he served with distinction until he resigned his charge in 1841. In 1842 he took orders in the Church, of which to the day of his death he was a loyal son. Reasons for becoming a churchman and the motives which impelled him are set forth in a striking and graphic manner in his monumental book, "A Presbyterian Clergyman Looking For the Church," a work of marked ability and of great utility. It had a large sale in his day, and it is still sought after as a book of permanent value. It is a strong plea for Apostolic Order and Liturgical Worship, and it is safe to say that it has been instrumental in leading many an inquirer into the "old paths" and the Faith as "once delivered to the Saints." The Rev. Mr. Mines, after his ordination, became assistant minister in St. George's Church, New York city, under Rev. Dr. James Milnor. From here he went to the Danish West Indies and became Rector of St. Paul's Parish, Fredericksted, St. Croix, about forty miles square and embracing almost half of the island. Owing to failing health he returned, after many arduous labours, to the United States, and became Rector of St. Luke's Church, Rossville, Staten Island. He went finally to San Francisco, where he preached for the first time on July 8th, 1849, in the midst of the gold excitement, and on July 22nd of this same year, became the founder of Trinity Parish, where his honoured name is still held in grateful remembrance, not merely by some of the twenty-two original members, who still live, but by their children and grandchildren. The first Trinity Church was located on the northeast corner of Post and Powell Streets. It was a modest building, which, in 1867, gave place to an edifice, Gothic in design, costing $85,000. A few years ago the present Trinity Church was erected on the northeast corner of Bush and Gough Streets, with ample grounds for parish buildings. This sacred edifice is one of the finest and largest churches on the Pacific coast, and is a combination of Spanish and Byzantine styles of architecture. It was designed by A. Paige Brown, who was the architect of the California building at the Columbian Exposition, in Chicago, and also of the new Bethesda Church, Saratoga Springs, N.Y. I have thus dwelt with particularity on the Rev. Flavel Scott Mines's life and work, because Trinity Parish is the mother of all the other Parishes in California, and because here in this new edifice, where there is a tablet to his memory, and where he is buried, the General Convention was held in 1901, a council of the Church which will ever be memorable. It is well also to rescue from oblivion the memory of a man who laid the foundations of the Church in California on the enduring principles of the ancient creeds. May we not learn also from the facts of his life, which show how faithful and accomplished he was, that the men who are to be heralds of the Cross in new fields are to be the ablest and the best equipped that the Church can furnish? Other early missionaries of the Church who may be named here are the Rev. Dr. Ver Mehr, who arrived in San Francisco in September, 1849, and in 1850 founded Grace Parish; and Rev. John Morgan, who organised Christ Church Parish in 1853; and Rev. Dr. Christopher B. Wyatt, who succeeded Mines in Trinity Church. There is another also whose name is interwoven in the history of the Church's mission in California. It is that of Right Rev. William Ingraham Kip, D.D., LL.D., who was consecrated first Bishop of California, October 28, 1853. Few, if any, of his day, were better fitted in scholarship, zeal, and other gifts and qualifications for his work than he, who is the famous author of "The Double Witness of the Church," a book which has largely moulded the faith and practice of the churchmen of this generation. Bishop Kip's immortal work and Mines's incomparable volume deserve to be ranked together, and though they differ widely in their manner of presenting the Old Faith, yet are they one in purpose. Is it not a little singular, or is it not rather a happy coincidence, that the two foremost pioneers of the Church's work in California should thus be the authors of works which are fit to take rank with the Apologiai of the early Christian writers or the "Apologia pro Ecclesia Anglicana" of Bishop Jewell?

Mines went to his rest in 1852, just in the prime of life, while Kip was spared to the Church until 1893, witnessing its great increase and reaping the abundant harvest from that early sowing. The growth is seen to-day in the three dioceses in the State. California, the parent diocese, with San Francisco as its chief city, Right Rev. William Ford Nichols, D.D., Bishop, has its eighty-one clergymen, with its eighty-six parishes and missions, and 8,585 communicants. Los Angeles, Right Rev. Joseph Horsfall Johnson, D.D., Bishop, has its forty-nine clergy, with its fifty-six parishes and missions, and 4,577 communicants; while Sacramento, Right Rev. William Hall Moreland, D.D., Bishop, has thirty-four clergymen with seventy parishes and missions, and a list of 2,556 communicants. All this, however, is not the full evidence of the strength of the Church on the Pacific coast. There are the church schools and hospitals and other agencies for good, and there are the blessed influences which the Church, with her stability and order and work, is exerting among the people. The results arising from the presence of the members of the General Convention will be gratifying. Everywhere throughout the State of California this august body was hailed with a glad welcome, and San Francisco and her suburban towns did everything possible to make churchmen feel at home. The attendance at services was large, and a deep and an abiding interest was enkindled. It was said by the press and by leading citizens, that while many bodies had met in San Francisco from all parts of the land, none had ever surpassed in standard that of the Convention or even equalled it in dignity, scholarship, eloquence and other noted characteristics. The newspapers of the city, such as the Daily Call and the Chronicle, gave up large space to the services, debates and other features of the Convention, and they were always complimentary in their comments on individuals as well as on receptions and sermons and addresses. The keynote of the Convention was struck by the Right Rev. Benjamin Wistar Morris, D.D., Bishop of Oregon, in his sermon based on St. Luke, chapter v, verse 4:—"Now when He had left speaking, He said unto Simon, Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught." The discourse was in every sense what the venerable prelate had said it would be, a "Western" one, and it was a powerful plea setting forth the urgent necessity of extending and supporting the Church in her missionary efforts in the Pacific coast States.

The attendance of members in the House of Deputies was unusually large, and while some familiar faces were missed, like Dean Hoffman, of the General Theological Seminary; Rev. Dr. Morgan Dix, of Trinity Parish, New York; Rev. Dr. Edward A. Renouf, of Keene, N.H.; Rev. Dr. W.W. Battershall, of Albany, N.Y.; Mr. Spencer Trask, of Yaddo, Saratoga Springs, N.Y.; Mr. Louis Hasbrouck, of Ogdensburgh, N.Y.; Mr. G.P. Keese, of Cooperstown, N.Y.; and Judge Robert Earl, of Herkimer, N.Y., yet the personnel of the Convention was up to the usual standard. The new deputies, clerical and lay, felt at home at once, and some of them made good reputations for themselves in debate and in committee-work. It would seem invidious, perhaps, to single out any one deputy more than another, when all excelled, yet the names of some of the representative clergymen and laymen of the Church may justly be mentioned, as for example, Rev. Dr. John S. Lindsay, of Boston, Mass., the distinguished and well-balanced President of the House; Rev. Dr. Arthur Lawrence, of Stockbridge, Mass.; Rev. Dr. Reese F. Alsop, of Brooklyn, N.Y.; Rev. Dr. J. Houston Eccleston, of Baltimore, Md.; Rev. Dr. Samuel D. McConnell, of Brooklyn, N.Y.; Rev. Dr. J.S. Hodges, of Baltimore, Md.; Rev. Dr. George Hodges, of Cambridge, Mass.; Rev. Dr. Cameron Mann, of Kansas City, Mo.; Rev. Dr. James W. Ashton, of Olean, N.Y.; Rev. Dr. Robert J. Nevin, of Rome, Italy; Rev. Dr. John Fulton, of The Church Standard, Philadelphia, Pa.; Rev. Dr. William B, Bodine, of Philadelphia, Pa.; Rev. Dr. Charles S. Olmstead, of Bala, Pa.; Rev. Dr. George McClellan Fiske, of Providence, R.I.; Rev. Dr. Edgar A. Enos, of Troy, N.Y.; Rev. Dr. J. Lewis Parks and Rev. Dr. William M. Grosvenor of New York; Rev. Dr. R.M. Kirby, of Potsdam, N.Y.; Rev. Dr. John H. Egar, of Rome, N.Y.; Rev. Dr. George D. Silliman, of Stockport, N.Y.; Rev. Dr. John Brainard, of Auburn, N.Y.; Rev. Dr. H. Martyn Hart, of Denver, Col.; Rev. Dr. Edwin S. Lines, of New Haven, Conn; Rev. Dr. Daniel C. Roberts, of Concord, N.H.; Rev. Dr. Alfred B. Baker, of Princeton, N.J.; Rev. George S. Bennitt, of Jersey City, N.J.; Rev. Dr. J. Isham Bliss, of Burlington, Vt.; Rev. John Henry Hopkins, of Chicago, Ill.; Rev. Dr. Campbell Fair, of Omaha, Neb.; Rev. John Williams, of Omaha, Neb.; Rev. Dr. Frederick W. Clampett, of San Francisco, Cal; Rev. R.G. Foute, of San Francisco, Cal.; Rev. Dr. Angus Crawford, of Alexandria Seminary, Va.; Rev. Dr. Randolph H. McKim, of Washington, D.C.; Rev. Dr. Frederick P. Davenport, of Memphis, Tenn.; Rev. Dr. Alex. Mackay-Smith, of Washington, D.C.; Rev. Henry B. Restarick, of San Diego, Cal.; Rev. B.W.R. Tayler, of Los Angeles, Cal.; Rev. Dr. David H. Greer, of New York; Rev. Dr. William R. Huntington, of New York; Rev. Dr. Beverly D. Tucker, of Norfolk, Va.; Rev. Dr. Carl E. Grammer, of Norfolk, Va.; Rev. Dr. William T. Manning, of Nashville, Tenn.; Rev. Frederick A. De Rosset, of Cairo, Ill.; Rev. Richard P. Williams, of Washington, D.C.; Rev. Dr. Henry W. Nelson, of Geneva, N.Y.; Rev. Dr. John Kershaw, of Charleston, S.C.; Rev. Dr. Herman C. Duncan, of Alexandria, La.; Rev. Dr. John K. Mason, of Louisville, Ky.; Rev. Dr. Walter R. Gardner, of Algoma, Wis.; Rev. Dr. George C. Hall, of Wilmington, Del; Rev. J.L. McKim, of Milford, Del.; Rev. Dr. Henry L. Jones, of Wilkesbarre, Pa.; Rev. Dr. George C. Foley, of Williamsport, Pa.; Rev. Dr. Storrs O. Seymour, of Litchfield, Conn.; Rev. Dr. Charles E. Craik, of Louisville, Ky.; Rev. C.S. Leffingwell, of Bar Harbour, Me.; Rev. Dr. Rufus W. Clark, of Detroit, Mich.; Rev. Dr. Lucius Waterman, of Claremont, N.H.; Rev. Dr. Henry H. Oberly, of Elizabeth, N.J.; Rev. Julian E. Ingle, of Henderson, N.C.; Rev. Dr. Charles L. Hutchins, of Concord, Mass., the efficient Secretary, always patient and courteous; Rev. Dr. Henry Anstice, of Philadelphia, Pa.; Rev. Edward W. Worthington, of Cleveland, Ohio, and Rev. William C. Prout, of Herkimer, N.Y., Assistant Secretaries; Mr. George M. Darrow, of Murfreesboro, Tenn.; Dr. William Seward Webb, of Shelburne, Vt.; Mr. Henry E. Pellew, of Washington, D.C.; Mr. Linden H. Morehouse, of Milwaukee, Wis., of The Young Churchman Co.; Judge James M. Woolworth, of Omaha, Neb.; Mr. Burton Mansfield, of New Haven, Conn.; Hon. Cortlandt Parker, of Newark, N.J.; Judge Charles Andrews, of Syracuse, N.Y.; Mr. John I. Thompson, of Troy, N.Y.; Mr. Leslie Pell-Clarke, of Springfield Centre, N.Y.; Hon. George R. Fairbanks, of Fernandina, Fla.; Judge L. Bradford Prince, of Santa Fe, N.M.; Hon. Francis A. Lewis, of Philadelphia, Pa.; Hon. Francis L. Stetson, of New York; Mr. George C. Thomas, of Philadelphia, Pa., Treasurer of the Board of Missions; Hon. W. Bayard Cutting, of New York; Judge John H. Stiness, of Providence, R.I.; Hon. Joseph Packard, of Baltimore, Md.; Hon. Charles G. Saunders, of Lawrence, Mass.; Hon. Arthur J.C. Sowdon, and Hon. Robert Treat Paine, of Boston, Mass; Mr. William B. Hooper, of San Francisco; Mr. Henry P. Baldwin, of Detroit, Mich.; Mr. Francis J. McMaster, of St. Louis, Mo.; Mr. William H. Lightner, of St. Paul, Minn.; Mr. Richard H. Battle, of Raleigh, N.C.; Hon. G.S. Gadsden, of Charleston, S.C.; Mr. George Truesdell, of Washington, D.C.; Mr. George M. Marshall, of Salt Lake City, Utah; and Mr. Joseph Wilmer, of Alexandria Seminary, Va. There is one other name which must not be omitted, that of Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan, of New York city, who, notwithstanding his vast business interests, was in his seat from the opening of the Convention until the closing session, watching all the debates and deliberations with the deepest interest, and serving on various important committees. Many of the members of the Convention, too, were deeply indebted to him for a gracious hospitality dispensed by him in his magnificent temporary home on California Avenue.

To name the Bishops who in one way and another made their presence felt in their own House, in the Board of Missions and elsewhere, at meetings and in services, it would be necessary to speak of all who were in attendance on the Convention. Those who were specially active, however, were Bishop William Croswell Doane, of Albany; Bishop Henry Codman Potter, of New York; Bishop Daniel Sylvester Tuttle, of Missouri; Bishop Benjamin Wistar Morris, of Oregon; Bishop Thomas Underwood Dudley, of Kentucky; Bishop Ozi William Whitaker, of Pennsylvania; Bishop Cortlandt Whitehead, of Pittsburg; Bishop John Scarborough, of New Jersey; Bishop George Franklin Seymour, of Springfield; Bishop William David Walker, of Western New York; Bishop Leighton Coleman, of Delaware; Bishop Samuel David Ferguson, of Cape Palmas; Bishop Ellison Capers, of South Carolina; Bishop Theodore Nevin Morrison, of Iowa; Bishop Lewis William Burton, of Lexington; Bishop Sidney Catlin Partridge, of Kyoto; Bishop Peter Trimble Rowe, of Alaska; Bishop William Frederick Taylor, of Quincy; Bishop William Crane Gray, of Southern Florida; Bishop Ethelbert Talbot, of Central Pennsylvania; Bishop James Steptoe Johnston, of Western Texas; Bishop Anson Rogers Graves, of Laramie; Bishop Edward Robert Atwill, of West Missouri; Bishop William N. McVickar, of Rhode Island; Bishop William Lawrence, of Massachusetts; Bishop Arthur C.A. Hall, of Vermont; Bishop William Andrew Leonard, of Ohio; Bishop James Dow Morrison, of Duluth; Bishop Henry Yates Satterlee, of Washington; Bishop Charles C. Grafton, of Fond du Lac; Bishop Abiel Leonard, of Salt Lake; Bishop Isaac Lea Nicholson, of Milwaukee; Bishop Cleland Kinlock Nelson, of Georgia, and Bishop Thomas F. Gailor, of Tennessee. It is needless to say that Right Rev. Dr. William Ford Nichols, of California, who was the host of the Convention, was prominent in all gatherings, and that his guiding hand was seen in all the admirable arrangements made for meetings and services. He was ably seconded by Bishop Johnson, of Los Angeles, and Bishop Moreland, of Sacramento. Some faces were sadly missed, as for example, Bishop Niles, of New Hampshire; Bishop Huntington, of Central New York; Bishop Worthington, of Nebraska; Bishop Spaulding, of Colorado; and the Presiding Bishop, Right Rev. Thomas March Clark, of Rhode Island. The Secretary of the House of Bishops, Rev. Dr. Samuel Hart, of Middletown, Conn., was a conspicuous figure in the Convention, and he and his assistants, Rev. Dr. George F. Nelson, of New York, and Rev. Thomas J. Packard, of Washington, were often seen in the House of Deputies, bearing official messages.

In addition to the regular business of the Convention, there were discussions of a high order on such matters as Amendments to the Constitution, the enactment of New Canons, Admission of New Dioceses, Marriage and Divorce, and Marginal Readings in the Bible. The Report of the Commission on Marginal Readings was finally adopted, with some modifications, after an animated debate, to the great satisfaction of many who felt the need of such a help in reading the Holy Scriptures. At times the speakers, both lay and clerical, rose to heights of fervid oratory, and it was an education to listen to men who were thoroughly versed in the themes which they handled. The Missions of the Church were not neglected in the midst of the exciting debates of the Convention, and an important step was taken when the Board resolved to adopt the Apportionment Plan, by which each diocese and missionary jurisdiction would be called on to raise a definite sum of money. This, it was felt, would relieve the Board from the burden of indebtedness, and would enable the Church to originate new work. No more earnest advocates of this plan could be found in the meetings of the two Houses of Convention as the Board of Missions, than in Bishop Brewer of Montana and Mr. George C. Thomas, the Treasurer. Their words were forcible and their manner magnetic. Bishop Doane's eloquent advocacy of the measure also led to happy results.

In this chapter on the Triennial Council of the Church held in San Francisco, we must not omit to make mention of the United Offering of the Woman's Auxiliary to the Board of Missions. The women of the Church specially devoted to its missionary work had been gradually increasing their forces and activities and offerings. When they last met, in the city of Washington, D.C., three years before, they presented the goodly sum of $83,000; but now in San Francisco they were to surpass their previous efforts. They were to show forth the fruits of more earnest labours and richer giving. They established their headquarters at 1609 Sutter street, in a commodious dwelling house, not far from Trinity Church, where the Convention was in session. Here various rooms were fitted up with handiwork and other products of missionary labour from the numerous fields where the Church, in obedience to her Lord's command, is engaged in sowing beside all waters; and no one could walk through these artistic chambers adorned with the work of the Indians of Alaska and the dwellers of the South Seas, the converts of India, of China and Japan, as well as Mexico and other regions, without being filled with admiration. Various dioceses also of the Church exhibited pictures of sacred edifices showing different styles of architecture. There were also photographs of noted missionaries, pioneer bishops and other clergy in the collection. Here indeed was an object lesson, and in all these works was manifested a spirit of enterprise most commendable. Different countries were thus brought together in such a way as to make the student of Missions realise the fact that the Church had indeed gone into all lands and that the Gentiles were walking in the light of Him Who is the life of men. While there were important meetings held by the Auxiliary, and special services were arranged for its members, the greatest interest naturally centered in the service held in Grace Church on Thursday, October 3rd, when the United Offering for the three years ended, was laid on the Altar of God. Six clergymen gathered the alms, and bearing them to the chancel, they were received in the large gold Basin which some years ago was presented to the American Church by the Church of England. This Alms Basin is three feet in diameter, and is an object of great interest as well as value. It is used only at grand functions, such as the meetings of the General Convention. It was an occasion of great rejoicing as well as a cause for devout gratitude when the magnificent sum of one hundred and four thousand dollars was reverently placed on the Altar. Behind all this was the love which made the large offering possible, behind it too the devotion which at this most significant and inspiring service, led fully a thousand faithful women to draw nigh to their divine Lord in that blessed Eucharist which quickens the soul into newness of life. The sermon at the service of the United Offering was preached by Right Rev. Dr. Nichols, Bishop of California, from St. Luke, chapter ii, verses 22-24, and was one of remarkable power, rehearsing the righteous acts and noble deeds wrought by women in all ages.

One of the most noted meetings during the sessions of the Convention was held in Mechanics' Pavilion, on the evening of Tuesday, October 8th. It was probably the greatest gathering ever brought together on the Pacific coast in the interest of Missions or of Religion. There were not less than seven thousand persons present during the evening in the great hall, whose arches rang from time to time with applause at the sentiments of the speakers, and echoed and re-echoed the stirring missionary hymns sung by the vast multitude as led by the vested choirs of the various parishes in San Francisco. It is said that this enthusiastic gathering of all ranks was equalled only by the thousands who had assembled here only a short time before to pay honours to the memory of President McKinley, whom the people loved. Bishop Doane of Albany presided with his accustomed tact and force, and, after suitable devotions, introduced the four speakers. The first of those who addressed the assemblage was the Right Rev. Edgar Jacob, D.D., the Lord Bishop of Newcastle, who represented the Archbishop of Canterbury. He said that there were four methods of spreading the Gospel in obedience to the command of the Master, "Go, make disciples of all people of the earth." These are the evangelistic, the educational, the medical, and the magnetic. Of this last he said, "It is that the society should attract the individual. The influence of the individual must be followed by the influence of the society." Bishop Potter of New York followed in his usual happy vein. Then came the eloquent Bishop of Kyoto, Right Rev. Dr. Sidney C. Partridge, and after him Burton Mansfield, representing the laity, who spoke about "Re-quickened Faith as necessary to all."

During the last week of the Convention there were some special reunions of colleges and theological seminaries. Among the most interesting of these, that of the Philadelphia Divinity School, with Bishop Whitaker presiding, may be mentioned, and also that of St. Stephen's College, Annandale, with its first Warden, Bishop Seymour, at the head of the table. Bishop Dudley honoured the gathering of alumni at this banquet, in the Occidental Hotel, with his presence, and Warden Lawrence T. Cole was a prominent figure.

The Convention attracted to San Francisco several well-known clergymen who, although not deputies, were nevertheless deeply interested listeners, in the galleries and on the floor of the House, during the sessions, and were also participants in services and missionary gatherings. Among these was the Rev. Dr. Lawrence T. Cole, the energetic Warden of St. Stephen's College, Annandale, N.Y., of whom we have already spoken. There was also in attendance the Rev. A. Burtis Hunter, Principal of St. Augustine's School for Coloured Students, in Raleigh, N.C. In this Church Institute Rev. Mr. Hunter and his excellent wife are doing a grand work for the negro people of the South, on lines somewhat similar to those followed by Booker T. Washington at Tuskeegee. We also noticed at the Convention and Missionary Services the Rev. William Wilmerding Moir, B.D., the zealous missionary at Lake Placid, N.Y., in the Diocese of Albany. His Missions, which have been phenomenal in their growth, are St. Eustace-by-the-Lakes and St. Hubert's-at-Newman. Under his sowing beside all waters, the Adirondack wilderness, in the field committed to him, is blossoming as the rose. Never was missionary more indefatigable and self-denying than he, and his rich reward now is in the possession of the confidence and love of his flock. It shows what a true and beautiful life can accomplish for the Divine Master and for the souls of perishing men, when the apostolic injunction is observed to the letter,—"Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus." This is indeed the true spirit in all missionary labours; and, thank God, it animates the Church in all its fulness, as evidenced here in San Francisco in the devising of methods for the extension of the Gospel of the Kingdom!

During the last hour of the final session of the Convention, Rev. Dr. William R. Huntington, Rector of Grace Church, New York city, a man whom every one who knows him respects and honours for his learning, his eloquence, his integrity, his character as a man, his devotion as a Clergyman, to the Church, and his love for his Divine Master, created a sensation by a speech which he made. Indeed it was dramatic in its character, and it made a profound impression on all who heard it. As he spoke, a deep silence came over the members of the House. As is well known, Dr. Huntington has for years advocated an amendment to Article X of the Constitution by which there should be given to the Bishops of the Church the spiritual oversight of congregations not in communion with the Church, allowing the Bishops to provide services for them other than those of the Book of Common Prayer. This subject was debated at length, and at last, to harmonise all interests, a Committee of Conference was appointed from both Houses. Finally the Committee reported two resolutions for adoption,—the first, that Article X of the Constitution is to be so interpreted as not restricting the authority of the Bishops, acting under the Canons of the General Convention, to provide special forms of worship; and the second, that the Bishops have the right to take under their spiritual oversight congregations of Christian people not in union with the Church, and that the use of the Book of Common Prayer is not obligatory for such congregations, but no such congregations shall be admitted into union with a Diocesan Convention until organised as a Parish and making use of the Book of Common Prayer. The first was adopted, and the second lost. Dr. Huntington then arose and moved a reconsideration of the vote on the Report of the Committee of Conference. Having made his motion, he said, with evident feeling and pathos in his voice: "I may perhaps be allowed in advocating this motion to say a single word of a personal character, or partially of a personal character. I desire to say that I entertain the same faith in the final victory of the principles which I have had the honour to advocate in three previous Conventions that I ever have entertained. Individuals may rebuke me because of too great persistency and because of too much presumption. Great measures, if I may be pardoned in using a political phrase, may be turned down for the time. They cannot be turned down for all time. You have chosen your course for the present with reference to the great question of the opening century. I acquiesce. I resign to younger hands the torch. I surrender the leadership which has been graciously accorded me by many clerical and lay members of this House. The measure I advocated has been known as the iridescent dream. I remember who they were who said, we shall see what will become of his dream. In time they saw. But for the present it is otherwise. The Chicago-Lambeth platform has been turned down, and what I hope I may characterise without offence as the Oxford-Milwaukee platform is for the time in the ascendant. I accept the fact. My 'iridescent dream' shall disturb their dreams no more. I recall a saying of my old friend Father Fidele, whom we used to know in our college days as James Kent Stone. When he went over to Rome he wrote a book with the title, 'The Invitation Heeded,' and the best thing in it was this: 'I thank heaven that I have reached a Church where there is no longer any nervousness about the General Convention.' There is no probability, sir, of my heeding the invitation that he heeded, but henceforth I share his peace." The motion to reconsider the vote by which the first resolution of the Committee of Conference was adopted, was lost; and then Dr. Huntington retired from the House. Soon after the Bishops sent to the Deputies in Message 93, the same Resolutions as having been adopted by them, and asking the House of Deputies to concur. The motion prevailed by a large vote, and the victory came for the good Doctor, who thought he was defeated for the present, much sooner than he had expected.

The closing service of the Convention, on Thursday afternoon, October the 17th, was a memorable one. The imposing array of Bishops in their robes, the presence of the House of clerical and lay deputies, and the hundreds of San Francisco's citizens who thronged Trinity Church, together with the inspiring hymns and the reading of the Pastoral Letter by Bishop Dudley, who used his voice with great effect, made a lasting impression on all present. With the solemn benediction by Bishop Tuttle at 6:30 P.M., the great Council of 1901 was a thing of the past, but though its sessions were ended and become a matter of history, its effect could not be undervalued. It was a great advantage to the churchmen from all parts of the land to meet in San Francisco. In their journeyings from the East and other portions of the country between the Atlantic Ocean and the Rocky Mountains they had an opportunity of studying the far West, and they realised more than ever how great is the extent of the country, how inexhaustible its resources; and they were stirred up to greater missionary activity and more liberal giving. The wide domain between the Rocky Mountains and the Sierras and the rich valleys of California bordering on the Pacific Ocean, inviting enterprising agriculturalists from all sides, were indeed an object lesson. The civilisation of the West too is the civilisation of the East, and the Church, with her adaptability, is as much at home by the Golden Gate as in New York or Boston or Philadelphia. The Convention will help the Church in California. Its influences have gone out among the people in healing streams. Its character and work were a revelation to the populations by the Pacific; and already men who knew but little about the strength of our great American Church, its order, its catholicity, its aims, have been greatly enlightened and drawn to its services. They realise more and more what a mighty agency it is for good, how it promotes all that is best in our civilisation, and how it adds to the stability of the institutions of the land.

The character of the men and women whom the Church trains for citizenship and usefulness in the world is seen in two beautiful lives whose labours were finished, in God's Providence, by the waters of the Golden Gate. Mrs. Mary Abbott Emery Twing, of New York, widow of the late Rev. Dr. Twing, for many years Secretary of the Board of Missions, had travelled across the continent to be present at the meetings of the Woman's Auxiliary, of which she had been the first active Secretary. But sickness came, and after a few days she was cut down like a flower. She was a woman of a lovely character, devoted to the service of her divine Master like the Marys of old, and was a type of the tens of thousands of the Church's faithful daughters throughout the land. As she has left a holy example of missionary zeal and labour, so her good works follow her. The other life of which we speak is also an eminent example of love for God's Church, of faithfulness and good works. John I. Thompson, one of the most esteemed citizens of Troy, N.Y., though hardly in a condition physically to make the long journey to San Francisco, yet felt it his duty to be in his seat in the Convention. So he counted not his life dear unto himself, but with that sense of duty and spirit of self-sacrifice which always had characterised him he was found in his place at the opening and organising of the Convention, in Trinity Church, and answered the roll call. Exposures by the way had made inroads on his health and gradually he lost his strength until death finally claimed him on the evening of Wednesday, October the 16th. The next day the Convention passed the following resolution: "Resolved, That the members of this Convention have heard, with deep regret, of the death of Mr. John I. Thompson, a lay deputy of the diocese of Albany, and they hereby express their warm and tender sympathy for his family in their sore bereavement." But what a deathbed was his! What a testimony to the power of a living faith in Christ! He died as he had lived, a truly Christian man, illustrating the power of that Gospel which the General Convention is pledged to propagate and defend. With him, in the Palace Hotel, were those whom he loved best of all, his devoted wife, who had accompanied him, and his faithful son, who had hastened from the distant East to the chamber of sickness; with him too betimes the Bishop of Albany, whose tender words and loving ministrations were an unspeakable comfort to him; with him also his beloved Rector, Dr. Edgar A. Enos, of his dear St. Paul's Church, to break for him the bread of life and press the cup of salvation to his lips, and pray for him as he walked through the valley of the shadow of death, and to commend his departing soul to God. He knew he was going away from earthly scenes, and with faith and hope, he leaned on the arms of his Lord. Trained from his childhood in the ways of the divine life, and having walked like the holy men of old in the paths of righteousness, he had no fear as his feet touched the Dark River. He was ready to launch his soul's bark on the ocean of eternity. Methinks I see his purified spirit passing out through the Golden Gate yonder, but to sail over a sea more calm than the Pacific. It is eventide now, but "at evening time it shall be light;" and the light of God's eternal city is shed across his pathway as the Divine Pilot guides him through the Golden Gate of Paradise to the harbour of peace!