shops and warehouses towards the street. The inhabitants are reckoned to amount to 60,000, of whom one-third part are Chinese. Several commercial canals communicate with the town, and the river is navigable like that of Hué. Large Chinese vessels, called sommes, of 600 tons burthen, arrive at Fay-Fo yearly. The river divides itself into three branches; one goes directly to the sea in front of Cham-collao, another to the bay of Tourane, and the third to the southern extremity of the province, opposite to Pulo-Canton: but the two last are navigable for small boats only.
Setting out on our return to Tourane, we arrived at one in the morning of a very dark night; but owing to the excellence of the police, we met with no interruption of any kind. The road is lined with houses almost the whole way; and at all times the stranger may apply for assistance or hospitality, and be received with a cordiality which does honour to the people.[1]
Returning once more to the capital, I visited some remarkable objects in the environs. The first was the hill on which the usurpers of the throne used to offer sacrifice; a hill which, although artificial, rises to the height of above 600 yards. In shape it resembles a truncated cone, and is situated south-south-east from the city. On his restoration, Gia-Long destroyed the pagoda and the altar erected on the summit; and once had thoughts of levelling the whole hill; but he soon discovered more useful employment for his people and his money. On the east of this spot is a regular oblong natural hill, a little higher, planted all over with firs, a tree as great a rarity, and as much prized in Cochin-China, as any of their curious vegetable productions would be in Europe. The place of sacrifice chosen by the present emperor is not far from the conical hill, but in the plain, and regularly planted with firs.
The most striking ceremony in Cochin-China is a funeral; and it is no uncommon thing for surviving relations almost
- ↑ M. le Poivre, who visited Cochin-China fifty years ago, tells us that a traveller, who has not money sufficient to defray his expences in an inn, enters the first house of the town or village he arrives at; nobody inquires his business; he speaks to nobody, but waits in silence the hour of dinner. As soon as the rice is served up, he modestly approaches, places himself at table with the family, eats, drinks, and departs without uttering a single word, or any one's putting to him a single question. It was enough that he was a human being, a brother in distress; they wanted no farther information.
