Feb. 26.—Even the most casual glance at the Hungjao district will convey a sad message to any observer who has a love for trees; for he will find them being slaughtered, left right and centre, wherever he goes: willows by the creek-side, shade-trees by the farmyard, and even the almost sacred Ginkgo of the temple compounds—all are falling to the axe. The only reason for this wholesale slaughter is contained in the one word "poverty -which stalks the countryside as a grim reminder that war has passed this way. The Chinese have always been great respecters of trees, and I have often admired the staunch loyalty of poverty-stricken villagers who have spared trees for what must be mainly reasons of sentiment: respect for ancestors which has made the trees surrounding gravemounds immune: respect for the gods which has done the same for the temple trees the laws of "feng-shui"—so difficult to understand—which often save the trees around homesteads: for trees are closely associated with the gods of earth and air controlling all things Physical. Every tree, according to some of the ancient philosophers, has its own particular resident god, and notice must be given to the neighbours when a tree is to be felled, so that all may stay indoors to escape the wrath of the homeless god—until he finds another roost. By means of simple tales and legends such as these the trees have remained safe for generations: now comes poverty resulting from disastrous war—and they are being destroyed and sold for making charcoal. at something less than one shilling and sixpence per hundred catties. It is a grim thought that, generations ago, the forests of Europe were destroyed be-
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.