the point of application being not on the arm or leg, but, as among the Chinese, on the nose. The best physicians are of course in the capital and at the court; but in many notable instances rural physicians, by long observation and practice, excel in the use of original remedies and in treatment of local diseases. The immense majority, however, are said to be mere charlatans without study or conscience, who employ each a special drug, and often only one, frequently prescribing for persons whom they have not seen, and for diseases they have not examined. Any one acquainted with the Chinese practice and materia medica knows what fantastic methods and ridiculous substances are made use of, and what mysterious compounds are concocted to awe the ignorant. All kinds of vermin, and many parts of animal bodies, as well as strange products of the mineral and vegetable kingdom, are laid under tribute. Among remedies in use are sa-chiup, or serpent wine. To make this, they catch a snake that has swallowed a toad, drown and leave him to macerate in the wine when at the point of fermentation. Numerous other accepted recipes require reptiles and such nauseating trash. For varioloid, the remedy is chujei-mi, or the blood from a pig's tail, applied when very cold. Other remedies, hardly proper to mention, are in common use and medical faith. Hot-air baths or ovens are often efficaciously used. A disease that rages in Corea is gravel, or calculus evidently arising from the use of the drinking water. The native physicians employ in such cases a potion which is said to dissolve the stone without a surgical operation. The formula of the remedy is secretly guarded. Monsieur Ferreol, a French missionary, after long and terrible sufferings, was thus relieved in a few hours by a native physician. The general rule is to give all doses in potion. Often twenty or thirty species of plants are boiled together, and the medicinal powder dissolved in the decoction. To the resultant compound, a name more or less cabalistic is given, and the patient then drinks it off with more or less faith. The shortest road, however, to the sick Corean's heart is by means of well-cooked food, and a toothsome diet which the doctor may order will work wonders. In this prescription the natives have great faith. The common cure-all is ginseng root, which is used in powder, potion, pill, or mixed with other medicines. What quinine is to America, ginseng is to the Turanian world. It is regarded as "the first tonic of the universe." And the best specimens will in times of scarcity command the almost fabulous price of ten thousand dollars a pound. It is hard to understand the reason for the great reputation of this root, since western physicians attach slight value to it. It is probable that superstition has much to do with the matter, since the Asiatic sees in its shape a close resemblance to the human body, and it is believed to be specially created to relieve the ills of man. Science, however, ascribes its slight influence upon the constitution of Europeans to the wide difference in food, habits, and temperament. Even more efficacious than ginseng is hartshorn-by which we mean, not ammonia water, but the literal thing. The virtue of buck-horn is supposed to vary according to the region whence procured, or the part of the animal whence taken. The best is exported from the north-eastern provinces of China. Medical hair-splitters even set a varying value upon the horn, according ast it comes from various districts in the same province. According to their theory, the deer ought to be killed at once when shot, and before the carcass stiffens. Otherwise the virtue will exhale. The animal must then be suspended head downwards, so that all the virtue may pass by gravity into the horns, which, when taken out, are dried carefully over a slow fire. To make dose, a few horn scrapings are mixed with the juice of certain plants, and administered. The French missionaries testify to the excellent results of the internal application of hartshorn. The Corean Christians once said to a missionary, "When one has drunk of it, the steepest mountains seem to be a plain, and one can make the tour of the kingdom without fatigue." When people ask for teachers and more knowledge, and are willing to seek both even from those whom they once despised, it is evidence, not so much of ignorance, as of knowledge, and an appetite for more. Gutzlaff was struck with the eagerness of a Corean man of science who talked of medicine, and gladly received seeds and drugs. One of the things most diligently attended to by the physicians of Cho-sen, in the embassy to Japan in 1875, was the study of Japanese systems of surgery and medicine. Shortly after their return home the government requested that a Japanese physician might come to Seoul and live, his support being guaranteed. When the country is opened, western doctors will doubtless find that the native practitioners excel in the treatment of local diseases; while surgery and scientific diagnosis are still to be taught. As a proof that Corean medical science is respected in China, we may mention that the most celebrated Corean medical book, "Tiung-oi-po-kan," has been republished in Peking an honor rarely granted to a foreign author until within the last half century. Some other common diseases are typhoid and intermittent fevers, epilepsy, cholera, and hok, or goiter. In the first case, every effort is made to induce perspiration; failing in which, death is inevitable in three or four days. Sudden and fatal fits of indiges tion are also as common in Corea as in Japan. Perhaps the greatest cause of bodily disorders is the bad water of the country, which the people, in utter carelessness of life, seem never to filter or keep properly cleansed. In the provinces of Kiung-sang, scrofula and nervous disorders are sadly frequent, by reason of the bad water. For the latter, the virtues of strychnine or St. Ignatius bean are well known. One of the crowd of diseases thus produced, and called by the natives sutho, is characterized by swelling of the legs and knee joints. In many cases, premature old age is induced. The teeth fall out, the knees are enfeebled, and other symptoms of senility are apparent. Their treatment of contagious diseases savors of fear born of ignorance. The patient suffering from infectious disease is laid out in a piong-mak, or straw hut, in the fields. The rich and those with friends are given food and water till they recover, if indeed they do. The poor and friendless are left in these living graves to starve and die. When an entire village is infected, the roads leading to it are shut up with briers, and a branch of briers is hung up over each house to denote contagion within. We wonder whether this is the origin of the thorns stuck up at New-Year's in Japan to ward off disease? Only the rich can afford regular physicians. The poor depend upon nostrums, charms, and conjurors. The great and effectual door of approach, and the harvest of usefulness here opened to the Christian missionary physician, is too manifest to be more than pointed out. William Elliot Griffis. ON FOOT IN TLASCALA. I SHALL not attempt to tell you how we reached thereof our three days' tramp through the land of the Toltecs, accompanied by mozo and donkey. It matters not that we were vagabonds, prowling among the ruins of a lost civilization, peering into old tombs, crawling on hands and knees under pyramids, and eating our lunches from the shrines of forgotten gods. Not even the exhilaration which overtook us as we stood upon the plains of Otumba, where Cortez fought his great battle with the Tlascalans, shall find expression here; nor shall you know how we drifted all night on the Mexic lake, watching for pirates who did slight expression of surprise coming into his not come and all because our boatmen face, induced, no doubt, by recalling the were drunk on pulque. These are immate- fact that he had answered the same quesrial to our present purpose. As it was, we tion some twenty times before during the were three in number, the night was at afternoon. hand, and we found ourselves tired and hungry, on the outskirts of a native village. The trio just mentioned did not include our donkey, San Ramon, nor the stalwart Indian boy, Jesus; two by no means unimportant factors in the "make up" of our expedition; so that, strictly speaking-perhaps literally you will say, malicious reader -we were five. Brookdale was an Englishman, tender and true. He measured two varas six by the Mexican standard; and his curling beard fell over his wide breast in a shower of gold-a source of constant wonder to the beardless natives among whom we wandered. Crowned with a wide sombrero, and armed like a bandit, he walked the earth like a king of men, and we called him chief. Phillips, our poet, was cast in a different mold. He hailed from Baltimore, and had seen the world. Light and wiry in person, full of song and anecdote, he moved along from day to day, apostrophizing sun, moon, and star, investing rocks and trees with romantic interest, and telling us wild ghost stories at night as we sat about the camp-fire. Jesus loved Phillips, as well he might, and kept at his heels all day. We noticed, also, that the Indian maidens whom we met had sweeter smiles for him than for the others, and both the chief and I grew jealous. The third member of this trio, it is perhaps unnecessary to state, was the. writer; and as he is a diffident youth, reared and nurtured among the grizzlies of the Far West, he shall be spared the embarrassment of further comment. "What did you say is the name of this town?" asked Phillips of the mozo, who, in addition to performing the duties of general serving-man and donkey-driver, acted also in the capacity of guide and local encyclopedia. "A fine name that," put in the chief; "but it strikes me a more pertinent question would be, How far is it to the best hotel and a good supper? It is getting so dark that I have stabbed myself on a cactus spur." At this juncture we entered a deep cut in the road, such as usually introduce the trayeler to Mexican towns. The banks on either hand were overgrown with maguey and cactus plants, and the dust under foot was ankle deep. Once in these depressions, the wayfarer cannot see out. He is flanked to the right and to the left, and largely at the mercy of such free spirits as choose to harass him from the vantage-ground above. They have become, as a consequence, the theater of many dark and bloody deeds. We could see, as we advanced, that little crosses rose here and there among the bushes, each one telling a tale of strife and death; for it is the custom of these people to thus mark the spot where a human being dies. As the center of town was neared these bush-grown banks gave place to blank adobe walls, windowless, cheerless, and forbidding. It was now very dark, there being no moon. The dogs were beginning to sniff us from afar, and came yelping to greet us in untold numbers, their yellow eyes alone being visible. Keeping to the center of the road, we plodded onward in the wake of Jesus and the donkey, when suddenly a small voice arose from the darkness before us: "Oygan Vds. Señores! No quieren luz?” This, being liberally interpreted, might be rendered, "Hello, gents! Don't you want a light?" The speaker proved to be an Indian boy of about thirteen years. He was accompanied by a companion of his own age, and the two, warned by the dogs of our approach, had come out to meet us, proposing, for the small consideration of a medio apiece, to pilot us into town with a couple of torches. A "Chalchiquihuiscle," the man replied, a bargain was struck at once, and the enter prising youths proceeded to light their lamps, which consisted of nothing more than sections of old rope dipped in tar. A fine, wild light they made, however, angry and smoky, but so eminently in keeping with their surroundings that we would not have exchanged them for Edison's best. Stepping to the front, the little chaps waved their brands aloft, and the march was resumed. By the weird light which now fell about us, we could see that our newly found pilots were completely naked. They skipped nimbly forward, their little black bodies glistening in the torch-light, and looking for all the world like imps. I do not think that any of us were superstitious; but there was something in the situation which suggested a nearness to Plutonian regions not altogether re-assuring to men who had not made their peace with their Maker. "I really believe I smell brimstone," remarked the poet; and for once the chief and I did not question, or attribute the saying to the fervor of his imagination. Per shrugged his mighty shoulders at the sug- Going "A perfect Hebe!" muttered Phillips, as she stood smiling before us; then addressing the woman in her own language, of which he was master, he put in such a plea for supper, accompanied as it was with gentle compliments to his well-pleased listener, as Chalchiquihuiscle had seldom heard before. Suffice it to say, that in the course of an hour a hearty supper was steaming on the petate spread on the floor of the meson eggs, chicken, frijoles, chile, tortillas, tunas, and a pile of bananas. There were no knives and forks, but that mattered little. The people stood around and watched us eat, and we all enjoyed it. Two dogs quarreled at the last over a bone which the poet tossed them, and, in their anger, waltzed over the table, upsetting the coffee; but barring this accident all went merrily, and towards nine o'clock the reception was declared to be at an end, the doors were closed, and we went to sleep on the floor. A quarter of a mile farther on brought us to the heart of the town; and the arrival of strangers having now been noised abroad, we were soon surrounded by a curious crowd of villagers. Jesus had been instructed to pilot us to the principal meson, or stopping place, and by the time our caravan drew up in front of its blank walls we apparently had two-thirds of the population of Chalchiquihuiscle in our train. It was a respectful crowd, however, and offered no violence; so we took no offense at their curiosity, being disposed, on the contrary, to enjoy the stir our advent had created. The meson consisted of a corral for animals, surrounded by a high mud wall, along one side of which ran three or four empty rooms for the accommodation of travelers. Furniture there was none-nothing but the blank walls, the bare dirt floor, and the fleas. The people, or as many of them as could, followed us into this retreat, and watched us deposit our traps about the empty rooms. In the mean time, we kept a close watch on the traps. Supper there was none. The mesonero poet, Brookdale, and I were loitering Instead of pursuing our journey on the following morning, as had been the original intention, it was decided to remain a few days in Chalchiquihuiscle to see the town and make the acquaintance of the people. Our departure was hastened, however, by an unforeseen occurrence. Towards noon the through the plaza, where the Indians from the surrounding country display their various wares and fruits for sale, when a sudden commotion seemed to seize the people, extending as far as we could see down through the main streets of the village. Men, women, and children were on their knees, their heads uncovered, all making the sign of the cross and bowing themselves over to the pavement. Before we could make up our minds as to whether an earthquake had struck the town or the judgment-day had come, an angry voice behind us exclaimed: "Down on your knees there! Don't you see God coming?" We looked hastily in every direction, but could not see Him. We did, however, see a small boy dressed in red and white, coming down the middle of the street ringing a bell. Immediately behind him came a lumbering old coach drawn by two mules, the driver of which carried a red umbrella. The significance of the situation at once became apparent. It was the host, or holy sacrament, being borne to some dying person by the village priest. We had witnessed similar scenes before, and knew that we must either kneel or run. A small tempest was already brewing about our heads, and a dozen angry voices were calling upon us to get down. For half a moment we wavered, and then the music of a sudden stone, as it buzzed past our ears, brought indecision to a close. Turning hastily into a side street, we fled like three birds to the mountain. A shower of rocks and vegetables followed. One struck me on the shoulder, and another grazed my ear. Brookdale was slightly wounded in the hand, the poet alone escaping uninjured. Several of the Indians followed us into the side street, and the startling cry of “Que mueran los hereticos!" was rapidly being taken up by the boys and men whom we encountered in our mad retreat. It is difficult to say what the outcome of the adventure might have been had not relief appeared in an unexpected shape. The door of a patio opened suddenly to the left, and a voice said: VOL. I.-4. "Come in here, quick." Instinctively and without hesitation we sprung in, and the massive door swung to and was bolted behind us. What was our surprise on now finding ourselves within the walls of a high inclosure, and standing in the presence of Josefita, our peerless commiserat of the night before. "You have been very imprudent, gentlemen," she said, with a reproachful look in her beautiful eyes; "those men would kill you." We had already reached similar conclusions respecting our graceless conduct; for, in truth, the offense given to these people was foolish and unnecessary. Now, however, the deed was done, and we had but to consider the best way out of the dilemma. Our generous hostess assured us that we were safe in her house, and that if we remained there quietly for a few hours the excitement in the street would die down, and we might resume our wanderings unmolested. As there was apparently nothing better to do, this advice was adopted, and we remained until late in the afternoon beneath her sheltering roof. I need not tell you that we were grateful to our dusky benefactress. The poet named her Pocahontas at once, and proceeded to tell her so many sweet things, that I am still in doubt as to the exact state of his heart. Perhaps, in view of subsequent adventures, he would have returned, á la Rolfe, to woo and win her, but for the fact that one of Baltimore's fair daughters had a previous claim on his affections. At any rate, the chief and I grew jealous, as has been previously intimated. This opportunity for vengeance was not, therefore, to be lost; so we promptly taught the charming Josefita to call him Smith. An hour or so after our course of action had been determined upon, a small boy, furnished by Josefita, was dispatched to the meson to advise Jesus of our whereabouts, and request his presence. That individual put in an appearance somewhat later. had heard of our trouble, but reported that all was now quiet in the street. We instructed him to pack the donkey at once, He |