ay, not totally an incorrect one. He has
not much of a ritual, this Pontiff-Emperor; believes, it is
likest, with the old Monks, that 'Labour is Worship.' His most
public Act of Worship, it appears, is the drawing solemnly at a
certain day, on the green bosom of our Mother Earth, when the
Heavens, after dead black winter, have again with their vernal
radiances awakened her, a distinct red Furrow with the Plough,--
signal that all the Ploughs of China are to begin ploughing and
worshipping! It is notable enough. He, in sight of the Seen and
Unseen Powers, draws his distinct red Furrow there; saying, and
praying, in mute symbolism, so many most eloquent things!

If you ask this Pontiff, "Who made him? What is to become of him
and us?" he maintains a dignified reserve; waves his hand and
pontiff-eyes over the unfathomable deep of Heaven, the 'Tsien,'
the azure kingdoms of Infinitude; as if asking, "is it doubtful
that we are right _well_ made? Can aught that is _wrong_ become
of us?"--He and his three hundred millions (it is their chief
'punctuality') visit yearly the Tombs of their Fathers; each man
the Tomb of his Father and his Mother: alone there, in silence,
with what of 'worship' or of other thought there may be, pauses
solemnly each man; the divine Skies all silent over him; the
divine Graves, and this divinest Grave, all silent under him;
the pulsings of his own soul, if he have any soul, alone audible.
Truly it may be a kind of worship! Truly, if a man cannot get
some glimpse into the Eternities, looking through this portal,--
through what other need he try it?

Our friend the Pontiff-Emperor permits cheerfully, though with
contempt, all manner of Buddhists, Bonzes, Talapoins and such
like, to build brick Temples, on the voluntary principle; to
worship with what of chantings, paper-lanterns and tumultuous
brayings, pleases them; and make night hideous, since they find
some comfort in so doing. Cheerfully, though with contempt. He
is a wiser Pontiff than many persons think! He is as yet the one
Chief Potentate or Priest in this Earth who has made a distinct
systematic attempt at what we call the ultimate result of all
religion, _'Practical_ Hero-worship:' he does incessantly, with
true anxiety, in such way as he can, search and sift (it would
appear) his whole enormous population for the Wisest born among
them; by which Wisest, as by born Kings, these three hundred
million men are governed