on, from which Europeans have mainly derived their ideas of
China, is comparatively a clean and neat place, far superior to the more
northern cities.

To descend from generalities to particulars. The smells are a horrible
compound, worse than in Coleridge's 'City of Cologne.' First and
foremost are the sewers, which are all open, the deposits of the
night-soil of the city, with convenient wells at every corner and in
niches in the walls. At these are to be found, at all hours, men with
buckets slung on bamboos, filling them for transportation in these
primitive open vessels to the farmers, who use the compost on their
fields. These wretches, with their vile burdens, are met at every turn,
and pass through the streets and roads in long files, loading the air
with abominations. No attention is paid to the wells and sewers until
they overflow, and, as chance may direct, the coolies take their loads
from the most convenient.

This is a terrible nuisance, but it is hardly worse than the odors which
arise from the innumerable cook shops, and from the peripatetic bakeries
at every corner. What they are cooking, no man knows, but if not dog
chow-chow, it is sure to be fried in some vegetable oil that sends up a
mighty vapor, hiding the cooks and rolling into the narrow street, where
it scarcely finds vent between the overhanging eaves of the houses. The
sickening smell of the castor bean seems everywhere. Occasionally the
sight and powerful odor of hard-boiled and rotten goose eggs, split open
to show that they are either rotten or half hatched, attract the Chinese
epicure. The oily cakes and crullers that the wandering baker is frying
for a group of children, powerfully offend European olfactories,
although so tempting to the half-naked brats. Many different and
offensive odors come from these greasy cook shops, but the offence in
almost every instance can be traced home to the vegetable oils, greasy
and rancid, which seem to pervade all Chinese cookery, as it is seen in
the streets of the cities. Many of the dishes, but for this oil, would
be quite tempting; and such, as have tasted them in the houses of the
rich, assure us that they are not so bad as they smell. The
much-talked-of edible bird's-nest soup is really a fine dish. The
substance, after it is prepared, all the dirt and feathers being
separated from it, is as clean and pure as isinglass, which it greatly
resembles in appearance. Great care is taken to make it pure