THE
CHINESE REPOSITORY.
Vol. VI.—May, 1837.—No. 1.
From time immemorial the Chinese have stood alone. They have been, and are still, an isolated people. This, doubtless, has resulted in part from their own choice, and in part from circumstances more or less beyond their control. Differing from the rest of the world in their language, laws, government, domestic habits, religious rites, &c., they have not deemed it expedient or practicable to form, with the rest of the world, those friendly relations which afford the philanthropist the most ready means for bringing the people of every land and of every name into that state of improvement—that state of millenial peace and prosperity—foretold by ancient seers. Though but partially acquainted with their history, we see sufficient cause for that exclusive policy and that isolated attitude, which they have hitherto so signally maintained, in direct opposition to the fundamental principles of society. No nation is without its peculiarities; nor even an individual. These, however, do not exempt either the one or the other from those more permanent traits of character—those intellectual qualities and feelings—common to the whole race of man. A full description of all these peculiarities, in the Chinese, would afford the philosopher many valuable hints for the direction of his inquiries, and form a curious chapter in the general history of the world. But omitting, for the present, to give even a sketch of these peculiarities, we must advert to those traits of mind—the characteristic habits of thought and action—in which the Chinese agrees with his species in every clime and age. To one overwhelmed with grief it matters little whether black or white, or some other color, is the badge of mourning. If his parents have been taken from him, and he is left without friends or the means of comfort and support, the child must
