to those of India, Manilla, and the Straits. Some fruits are indigenous and peculiar to the country, as the _whampee_, which tastes not unlike a gooseberry; and the _lychu_ (whose trees form a fragrant and agreeable feature in the landscape), which is about the size of a large strawberry, and has, within a rough red skin, a white sweet watery pulp, somewhat resembling that of the mangosteen, and not unpleasant to the taste, though the flavour suggests a faint suspicion of castor-oil. It is scarcely necessary to make mention of the numerous varieties of the orange, which is the most abundant and perfect fruit in the south of China. As we advanced into the larger valleys and among the higher hills, the scenery became more picturesque; and often, far up the mountains, were some large white graves. The Chinese are unlike all other nations in their treatment of the dead. In the first place, they like to have their own coffins ready and in their houses, being in no way disturbed by having such a _memento mori_ constantly before their eyes. I once heard two women disputing violently in Hong-Kong, and on inquiring into the cause, the younger one said to me in “pidgin English,” “That woman belong my moder. I have catchee she number one piccy coffin, and she talkee, ‘No good, no can do!;’” _Anglice_: “That woman is my mother. I have got for her a coffin of the best kind, and she says it’s not good, and won’t do!” After death the body is closed up in a coffin along with quicklime. This is often kept for some time in the house, and then, most frequently, the bones are taken out and placed in an earthenware urn. The most usual form of the grave is an attempt at representing the shape of an armchair without legs, but this is often thirty or forty feet round, and is built of stone, or of bricks covered with white chunam. At the back of this the urn is placed in an excavation, and the spirit of the defunct is supposed to seat himself there and enjoy the view. Care is taken to give him a dry place, where he will not be disturbed by damp or streams of water, and where the spiritual existence of ants will not annoy. The Chinese love of nature comes out remarkably in their selection of spots for graves. They prefer solitary places, where sighing trees wave over the departed, the melody of birds will refresh his spirit, where he can gaze upon a running stream and a distant mountain-peak. In the ‘Kia Li,’ or Collection of Forms used in Family Services, there occurs the following beautiful funeral lament, which is wont to be uttered at burial:—