Their powers of imitation, it is said, are not excelled by any people, but they seemingly have no inventive faculties. Yet we saw some things that would go to contradict this theory; and there is an anecdote which was told us by a citizen of Hong Kong, who vouched for its accuracy, that tends rather to disprove it, although the idea carried out was not, perhaps, strictly an original one. At the close of the celebrated “opium war,” some manufacturers at Sheffield, England, hearing of the celebrated imitative powers of the Chinese, sent to Hong Kong a quantity of the finest cambric needles, requesting their agent to ascertain if they could be imitated by the Chinese. The agent, accordingly, took some of them to a Chinese cutler, and, telling him what was wanted, left them. In a few days the needles were returned, with another package precisely similar, except that the needles manufactured by the Chinaman _all had eyes nicely drilled and finished in the points of them_! The Chinaman called the next day after he had sent the package, and requested the Englishman to send his needles to England, and ascertain if _they_ could be imitated. It is _needle_-ss to say that Johnny Bull never sent John Chinaman any more cambric needles to imitate. Still, if you wish an article made, they must have a copy, and that copy will be _strictly followed_. An anecdote illustrating this is related—the truth of which we do not vouch for, however—of an English midshipman, who wished half a dozen pairs of pants made, of blue cloth. Accordingly, he selected his tailor, gave him the order, and left a pair as a pattern. It so happened that this pair had a small patch on the seat, and was minus several buttons; and when the new pants came on board, very neatly made, each had a similar patch, and the same number of buttons missing—the Chinaman charging for the extra sewing. As may be supposed, the middy was in a great rage; but all the satisfaction he could get was that they were made _exactly_ like the pattern left. The Chinese manufacture a liquor which they call “sam shu,” which is very intoxicating, and of which they drink large quantities. It often happens that they entice our naval seamen to partake of this liquor, and they are as surely robbed as they _do_ partake of it, for it is almost always drugged by them for the purpose, that they may the easier rob poor Jack of his liberty money, or any thing else they can carry off. On awaking, finding himself stripped of every thing by the rascals, there is no resource for him but to return to his ship, which is done. One would think that this treatment _once_ would be sufficient; yet it is practiced upon some many times. Forgetting their former follies, they rush again into the embrace of the soul-destroying, maddening cup.