The following pages comprise nothing more nor less than a transcript of the journal kept by me during a two months' journey from Shanghai, the metropolis of the Coast, to Chung-king, the commercial metropolis of Western China. This journal was written up each night, as I travelled along in the native boat, and was despatched home by successive mails for the amusement of my friends in England. I have been induced to publish it in the belief that impressions formed and recorded day by day on the spot give a better idea of the actual state of things in China, than many of the elaborate and carefully compiled books which, attempt a more exhaustive description of the country.

So much interest is now felt at home in the “Flowery Land,” and such very erroneous conceptions appear to be entertained in regard to China, her wealth, her strength and prowess, and her value as an ally—qualities of which, in my opinion, only the remote potentiality exists at present—that no apology is needed for presenting a literal picture of the country I traversed.

With the exception of the ubiquitous missionary, the travellers who have ascended the “Great (and sole) Highway” of China to its highest navigable point may be counted on the fingers of one hand. So tedious are the antiquated modes of travel, that of the thousands of European residents at the treaty ports, few have the leisure or inclination to journey outside of the routes covered by our “barbarian” steamers.