Cuar. VIII.) TOMBS OF THE DEAD. 127 
and general costume of the natives, a man might 
almost imagine himself on the banks of the Thames. 
A very considerable portion of the land in the 
vicinity of the town is occupied by the tombs of 
the dead.* In all directions large conical shaped 
mounds meet the eye, overgrown with long grass, 
and in some instances planted with shrubs and 
flowers. The traveller here, as well as at Ning-po 
and Chusan, constantly meets with coffins placed on 
the surface of the ground out in the fields, carefully 
thatched over with straw or mats to preserve them 
from the weather. Sometimes, though rarely, when 
the relatives are less careful than they generally 
are, I met with coffins broken or crumbling to 
pieces with age, exposing the remains of the dead. 
I was most struck with the coffins of children, 
which I met with every where; these are raised 
from the ground on a few wooden posts, and care- 
fully thatched over to protect them from the 
weather—reminding the stranger that some parent, 
with feelings as tender and acute as his own, has 
been bereaved of a loved one, whom he, perhaps, 
expected should cheer and support him in his de- 
clining years, and whose remains he now carefully 
watches. Those in the higher ranks of life have, 
generally, a family burial-place at a little distance 
from the town, planted with cypress and pine trees, 
with a temple and altar built to hold the josses or 
idols, and where the various religious ceremonies 
* It is stated in Davis’s “Chinese,” that the dead are all buried 
on the sides of the barren hills. 
