for death does not come to a good priest, but--to enter into Nirvana,
which is a sublime state of conscious freedom from all mental and
physical disturbance, not to be adequately described in words. At death,
the priest is placed in a chair, his chin supported by a crutch, and
then put into a wooden box, which on the appointed day is carried in
procession, with streaming banners, through the monastery, and out into
the cremation-ground attached, his brother priests chanting all the
while that portion of the Buddhist liturgies set apart as the service
for the dead, but which being in Pali, not a single one of them can
understand. There have, of course, been many highly educated priests at
one time and another during the long reign of Buddhism in China; but
it is safe to say that they are no longer to be met with in the present
day. The Buddhist liturgies have been written out in Chinese characters
which reproduce the sounds of the original Indian language, and these
the priests learn by heart without understanding a word of their
meaning. The box with the dead man in it is now hoisted to the top of a
funeral pyre, which has been well drenched with oil, and set alight;
and when the fire has burnt out, the ashes are reverently collected and
placed in an urn, which is finally deposited in a mausoleum kept for
that purpose.

Life is remarkably safe in China. No man can be executed until his
name has been submitted to the emperor, which of course means to his
ministers at the capital. The Chinese, however, being, as has been so
often stated, an eminently practical people, understand that certain
cases admit of no delay; and to prevent the inevitable lynching of such
criminals as kidnappers, rebels, and others, caught red-handed, high
officials are entrusted with the power of life and death, which they
can put into immediate operation, always taking upon themselves full
responsibility for their acts. The essential is to allay any excitement
of the populace, and to preserve the public peace.

In the general administration of the law great latitude is allowed, and
injustice is rarely inflicted by a too literal interpretation of the
Code. Stealing is of course a crime, yet no Chinese magistrate would
dream of punishing a hungry man for simple theft of food, even if such
a case were ever brought into court. Cake-sellers keep a sharp eye on
their wares; farmers and market-gardeners form associates for mutual
protection, and woe