of Medicine, and temples are erected to his honour in all the provinces of China. There are four in the capital—one near the Jesuit Observatory, called the Lü Kung T'ang, close by the shrine built in commemoration of the great Jesuit, Adam Schaal, by the Emperor Shun Chih; one just outside the Front Gate, called the Lü Tsû Tien; and two others, both of which are known as Lü Tsû T'sz. There is also a sanctuary dedicated to him in the Temple of the White Cloud, the great stronghold of Taoism, outside the western wall. On the whole, we should say that Lü Tsû succeeded in acquiring far more fame as a soothsayer and mystic than he would have done had he contented himself with less transcendental studies and risen to be a humble magistrate. There are people in the world not unlike him now; and though we do not suppose that future generations will canonise Madame Blavatsky, or build temples to her coadjutor the quondam editor of the Hong-Kong Daily Press, both persons enjoy an amount of fame, or notoriety, that would never have fallen to their share had they stuck to more commonplace pursuits. Spiritualists and mystery-mongers flourish to-day much as they did in China a thousand years ago; and, albeit that comparisons are odious, we cannot help remarking that they do not seem to have improved. There is often a grubbiness about the finger-nails of professional mediums, and a certain shakiness about the proper use of the eighth letter of the alphabet, which go far towards counteracting the effect upon one's mind of their most astonishing performances; whereas our old friend of the T'ang dynasty was a person of undeniable erudition and most cultured tastes, and could lay claim, besides, to a very high position in the philosophic school