"Enjoy the present, that is thin the American poet somewhat solemnly whilst cautioning against too much anxiety the future, too much dwelling upon the dead past. And of this present, which we are to enjoy, how large partis filled up cly little pleasures! Tam driven to these reflections by observing how much we upcountry make of our Christmas cards. We all shew them to one another! And even Before we can do that, we announce their arrival, and describe the friends who send them, "At our social gatherings we put out our Christmas cards on exhibition, asit they were wedding presents. When we think of the lavish waste of gorgeous pictures over a London mantelpiece it seems grievous to think so few have found their way to this remote region, where there are no novelty shops, where one has no chance of seeing any new prettinesses unless one or other of us gets a present.
To tell the truth we have hardly any of us had our English Christmas cardo yet, or any of our Christmas things. It is a week past New Year's day it is true, but when one lives in such a secluded spot one cannot expect to be quite up to date. And meanwhile we make the very most of those our various China friends have kindly sent Our eyes grow a little misty as we say "Tt is so kind of—torememberime. Wehave known each other such a short time. I suppose people think that up here it is a great pleasure to receive something. And is it not a pretty card?" We always think our cards pretty. Never were people 50 easily pleased. But really we have been lucky in our cards. There is not one common place card among them, each seems to have an appropriate meaning.
In the great sadness of life in China, away from all kith and kin, from all old and tried friends, removed from all early associations, and life-long habits these little painted cards with t swift flying birds bringing glad greetings, or dogs barking good wishes at their own reflections, remind one of the church dressing at home, the smell of the green, the sound of the carols ringing out into the evening air from the apparently steaming church. One recalls good resolutions, aspirations after a higher life, words of cheer from those who alas! have already gone to their Home above. And the disagreeables, the material pleasantnesses or unpleasantnesses of life among an alien and unloving race disappear for the moment. We see the Christmas fires at home, the blue dames round the snapdragon, the rosy faces of the children, and what we still less often see here, ever brighter faces crowned with white hair of the dear old grandfathers and grandmothers. After all it is middle life that always find the least joy in Christmas and New Year's tide, and in China we are mostly in the middle years, neither children nor what is commonly called old. Thus the shadowy reflection that comes to us through our bits of painted is perhaps as much as is good for us. And pleases us, and don't hurt the sturdy fellow said whose little wife used to beat him now and again. And to think that not so long ago in the whirl of busy English life Christmas cards seenied bat a folly and the burden of making a choice too great! Now long may they flourish, and many a somewhat weary heart may they gladden by their bravery of colour, and heartiness of phrase!
Up the River 7th January.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.