THE RIVER YANGTSZE.
THE introduction of railways into China has found many earnest advocates, and no one can deny the advantages which may be expected from the accomplishment of such a project. But there are numerous obstacles to so sweeping a measure of reform, and one which the Chinese might urge, with some fairness, is that their rivers, creeks, and canals already supply them with a vast network of intercommunication, extending over the richest provinces of the Empire.
The Yangtsze is the greatest river in China, and the longest but two in the world. It flows from an unexplored source in the mountains of Thibet for about 3,000 miles, and discharges into the China Sea. At present it is known to be navigable for steamers to the I-chang Gorge, a distance of over 1,100 miles above Shanghai, but I have no doubt that ere long it will be found possible, with suitable vessels, to ascend the gorges and rapids, and extend the steam-traffic over two-thirds of the entire length of the stream.
From the earliest times the watercourses of China have occasioned trouble to the people, and perplexity to their rulers. Ever since the days of Yu, the first emperor of a known Chinese dynasty, the channels of the rivers have been subject to constant change. Summer after summer, when the mountain snows have melted in the north, the flooded streams have burst their banks, and carried death and destruction over the vast and fertile districts of the plains below; indeed it appears to me that the prevention of disaster, and the security of the Empire in prosperity and peace, have always been directly dependent upon the exercise, by the government, of a vigilant and effective supervision over the watercourses and embankments throughout the country. The shifting of the Yellow River in 1 85 1-3, with the calamities necessarily consequent upon the deviation of that stream, might have been avoided had efficient measures been adopted during the dry season for strengthening the bank and deepening the original channel. Mr. N. Elias, who explored the breach, says: "The main pressure, during the flood season, had come to bear on the upper or weaker part of the embankments and, no measures having been taken to strengthen them, or deepen the channel, the great catastrophe happened which, with its consequences, had been predicted by the Abbe Hue some years before." In Pechihli, a year after the Tientsin massacre, an inundation arising from similar negligence laid waste part of that province, and the distress which that disaster inflicted upon the people, and which I witnessed on my way to Peking, produced an impression which will never be effaced from my memory. It seems to me, then, that before the introduction of railways can be urged with any degree of force, pressure ought to be put upon the authorities to induce them to throw open the interior to trade, and to grant foreign merchants, and their commodities, unrestricted use of the arteries of communication which already exist in the lakes, the rivers, and the canals. Such a step would pay the government, besides tending to secure the people against floods, and to prepare them, with the expansion of commerce, for the railroads and telegraphs that must follow in the end. The Chinese would not be slow to appreciate the substantial advantages of such a concession.
SILVER ISLAND.
I WILL now carry the reader with me on a journey to the gorges of the Upper Yangtsze, about 1,200 miles from Shanghai. In the spirit of a faithful cicerone, I will present to his notice the usual objects of interest, as well as a host of others, which, from their grandeur or novelty, will have superior claims upon his attention. Starting from Shanghai in one of the Shanghai Steam Navigation Company's commodious steamers, with a saloon which offers the ease and luxury of a drawing-room, and where the agonies of jnal de mer are quite unknown, we proceed for about 140 miles up the river to Chinkiang. A few miles below that city we pass the mouth of the Grand Canal, perhaps the greatest of the public works in China; at any rate, one which has proved infinitely more useful than the famous Chinese Wall. Here in mid-stream, just below the town, we come upon the rock known among foreigners as Silver Island (see No. 16). This is one of the most picturesque objects on the lower river, and, like Puto, is entirely occupied with Buddhist edifices, over which a chief priest or abbot exercises supreme control. The monastery there is an imposing pile of buildings above the broad granite steps of the landing, while other quaint temples and shrines are to be seen peeping out from among the woods which cover this sacred and beautiful retreat.
