# The Pearl of Asia/Chapter 17

XVII. Funeral of a Chinese Mandarin.
A novel sight is frequently witnessed in Bangkok, conveying the remains of a mandarin from his residence to one of the Hong Kong steamers, so that it can be transported to the home of his nativity and buried beside his parents. The boat that contains the coffin is filled with friends and relatives, all dressed in white, that being the color of their mourning garments, this is accompanied by other boats decorated and containing musicians, priests and others making quite a display. The beating of gongs and blowing of horns announce that the flotilla is coming, generally five or six boats, that containing the corpse in the lead. The body is encased in a handsome coffin covered with gilding and elaborately carved, more like an ornamented chest than a coffin, and on it is fastened a beautiful white bantam rooster; over the casket is suspended a pavilion and above it two blue banners and two large blue lanterns with other decorations. As soon as the steamer is reached the casket is placed in the hold with the rooster still on it, and by the time the vessel reaches its destination the doomed bird has also gone out into the unknown with the spirit of the son of the celestial. I failed to learn why a rooster was thus sacrificed, though it is supposed that the purity of the white bird might aid in blotting out some of the sins of the deceased or possibly his spirit would seek it as a taber​nacle to dwell in during his transmigrations. It is a curious custom of this curious people.
At times the passing of a funeral flotilla is quite a gorgeous pageant; the weird music, loud sounding gongs, the beating of tom toms and shrill notes of the flute, the measured dip of oars and fluttering of Mugs of various colors, fringed with gold and silver, furnish the spectator with a panorama of oriental splendor that remains indellibly photographed on the margent of memory. The remains of a Chinese mandarin lies in state about one hundred days, during which time bonzes, or priests, pray for the soul of the departed singers chaunt their native hymns and songs, theatrical performances are held and clowns perform all kinds of antics to drive away the gloom and sorrow of the family, to make them forget their Joss, they also think this pleases the spirit of the dead who is supposed to be hovering around to see what disposition is being made of his earthly casket. During this time lamps are constantly burning to drive away evil spirits and a feast spread for their entertainment while the priests in attendance and the family are regaled with choice viands and feasted sumptuously.
As their religion makes them fatalists they do not seem to grieve much on account of the death of a relative, but they have nothing undone for the care and sepulcher of the dead; they see that his debts are paid, his family properly cared for and his grave located in a pleasant place where the sunshine can fall upon it and face a running stream of water, or the wide expanse of gulf or ocean, Their tombs or vaults are built in the shape of a horse shoe and present quite a curious appearance, as they are arranged in rows. Frequently ​the graveyard is located on the side of a hill, which is terraced for the purpose. That at Hong Kong is one of the curiosities of the place while the cemetery at Canton covers many acres and is closely filled with their tombs.
Modern skeptics could learn much from these stoical Asiatics who thus care for the bodies of their deceased relatives, which proves conclusively that their belief in the beatitude of the life to come is serious and well founded, that they wilt live again in the hereafter and meet beyond the invisible river in the celestial Nirvana, a reunion that shall be eternal, where the heavenly savannahs undulating far away shall yield the choicest rice, the waters that flow through emerald vales be plethoric with fish, umbrageous trees that furnish shade bend to the earth with choicest fruit, birds of rarest plumage fill the groves with melody and demoselles, fairer than the blush of morn, welcome them to joys supernal, a land of dreamy wantonness that they have caught glimpses of after inhaling the poppies languorous power, the curse of the mongolian.