When I considered the Chinaman’s innate love of cruelty, I could understand why the next spot we visited was a very popular place of worship and a favourite resort for all the loafers of the city. It was the Temple of Horrors. Along each side of the principal court ran sheds, divided by partitions. In them behind wooden palings was a weird collection of groups of figures modelled to represent the various punishments of the Buddhist hell. The sheds were dark and it was difficult to see the interiors plainly. But quite enough was visible. In one compartment a couple of horrible devils were sawing a condemned wretch in two. In another, demons were thrusting a man into a huge boiler. Judging from the agonised expression on his face, the water must have been uncomfortably warm. In a third, the condemned soul or body was being ground in a press. Others were being roasted before huge fires, stuck all over with knives, having their eyes gouged out, being torn limb from limb. I fancy that the artist who designed these groups could have commanded a large salary as Inventor of Tortures from the Chinese authorities of his day. Another place of interest is the Examination Hall, where every three years candidates from all parts of China assemble to compete for Government appointments. Young men and old, boys of eighteen and dotards of eighty, attend, eager to grasp the lowest rung of the official ladder which may lead them, though with soiled hands, to rank and wealth. The coveted buttons which mark the various grades of mandarin are here dangled before their eyes. When one reflects that success in these competitions will lead to posts, not only as magistrates, but also as officers in the army, as officials of modern‐equipped arsenals, of departments of customs and telegraphs, or to positions which will bring them into contact with foreigners, one naturally thinks that the previous course of studies of the candidates will have fitted them for such appointments. Far from it. At the examinations a single text from Confucius or some other ancient author is set as a subject for a lengthy essay. For twenty‐four hours or longer the candidates are shut up in their cells to expand upon it. The examiners then read the result of their labours and recommend them on their proficiency in composition and acquaintance with the ancient classics of China. Even an English university curriculum is better fitted to equip a student for success in the world.