streets of large cities. My eyes and ears, accustomed to the noise of the waves, and the solitudes of the ocean, were no longer used to the tumults of crowds, and the sight of large multitudes of men, and, on passing from the Portuguese into the Chinese city, I was struck with astonishment. At Canton, my surprise amounted to stupefaction. Besides, at Macao, the crowd which blocked up the bazaar was noisy, but almost motionless—that is to say, it moved about on the same spot; it was a lake traversed by currents; in the present instance, however, the lake had overflowed its banks, and ran between two sinuous and irregular rocks. And yet, in these waves of population, among this compact crowd, we did not see a single woman, a single child, a single carriage, a single wagon, a single horse, a single dog, or a single cat; we beheld only men; everywhere men: men in silk robes, men in pointed hats, men fanning themselves, men loaded with goods, or chair-porters. If we were to stop, for a few instants, the current of women, children, and of rolling and creaking machines, which incessantly traverse the principal streets of Paris, the latter would suddenly be silent and deserted. Let the reader imagine, from this, the enormous population of Canton.
The first thing which struck my attention in the midst of this confusion was the good appearance of the houses, generally only of one storey; the luxury
