Letters to Children

In Short

This collection of eighteen letters serves as an educational bridge between an American missionary living in Canton and the children of a Massachusetts Sabbath school. Written between 1831 and 1834, the book catalogs the daily reality of Chinese life—from marriage ceremonies and agricultural practices to the complexities of the merchant class and the status of women—through a strictly theological lens. It remains a significant historical artifact, documenting the perspectives and motivations of the early Western missionary movement, while providing a detailed, albeit biased, ethnographic snapshot of early nineteenth-century China.

The Story

The narrative arc follows a systematic survey of a society that the writer views as spiritually lost. The author, writing from the relative isolation of the foreign "factories" in Canton, begins by categorizing the religious sects of China—Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism—dismissing them as forms of idolatry that leave the people in darkness. Having established this premise, the book proceeds to a structured examination of the people themselves. The author moves through the social hierarchy, describing soldiers, merchants, mechanics, farmers, and scholars with a mix of observational detail and moral judgment.

A significant portion of the narrative focuses on the material conditions of the people, describing how they eat, dress, and work. The author highlights the stark contrast between the lives of men and women, lamenting the lack of education for girls and the heavy, often demeaning labor expected of wives. He recounts the grandeur and expense of weddings and funerals, noting the elaborate processions and the heavy reliance on ritual to navigate life and death. Interspersed with these descriptions are reports on the state of the missionary endeavor, including the work of pioneers like Robert Morrison and William Milne, who labored to translate the Bible into Chinese.

The story climaxes with the emergence of local converts, such as Leang Afa, whose baptism provides the author with a glimpse of the "harvest" he hopes to reap for his faith. The narrative concludes with a direct appeal to parents and teachers in America. The author urges them to see the Chinese people not as distant subjects, but as fellow souls in need of salvation, framing the missionary effort as a duty that transcends national borders. By the final page, the book shifts from an ethnographic report to an urgent plea for action, demanding that its young readers and their families commit themselves to the global expansion of the Christian mission.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins The author establishes his purpose, promising to share what he has "seen, heard, or thought of" to educate American children about the vast population of China. He provides a foundational overview of the country’s geography and its primary religious divisions.

The architecture of faith A detailed tour of local temples describes the physical surroundings of idol worship, including the use of gongs, drums, and incense. The author emphasizes the lack of family-based prayer, contrasting the communal temple rituals with the private, scripture-centered worship he advocates for his young readers.

Social strata and daily labor The letters provide a breakdown of various classes, characterizing merchants as greedy and soldiers as part of a rigid system. The author highlights the importance of agriculture as the "fundamental employment," quoting official imperial edicts to illustrate how the government prioritizes farming.

The status of women In a somber shift, the author details the profound inequality facing Chinese women, who are denied education and treated as inherently inferior. He uses specific examples of family life, such as the practice of early betrothal and the presence of multiple wives, to underscore the perceived degradation of the female experience.

A portrait of change The final letters turn toward the tangible results of missionary work, documenting the establishment of printing presses and the founding of the Anglo-Chinese College in Malacca. The focus narrows to the personal story of Leang Afa, the first prominent convert, whose life becomes the ultimate proof of the missionary cause.

The People

The book is dominated by the perspective of E.C. Bridgman, a dedicated, uncompromising missionary who serves as both narrator and judge. He is driven by a deep sense of moral urgency, viewing every aspect of Chinese life—from the arrangement of a wedding to the style of a funeral—through the lens of spiritual salvation. He is a man of his time, confident that his worldview is the only path to truth, yet he remains remarkably attentive to the details of the world around him.

Robert Morrison and William Milne appear as the foundational figures of the mission. They represent the intellectual rigor of the movement, having spent decades translating the Bible and crafting dictionaries to bridge the linguistic gap. They are portrayed as heroic, self-sacrificing figures who set the standard for all who follow.

Leang Afa emerges as the book’s central local character. As an early convert, he represents the potential for the "harvest." His struggle to reconcile his new faith with the cultural expectations of his family makes him the most humanized figure in the text. He serves as a bridge, showing that even within a society described as "idolatrous," individual change is possible.

The young students in the author’s home—Atsan, Atih, and Achang—serve as the immediate, domestic focus of his efforts. Their presence in the missionary "factories" provides the author with a laboratory for his teachings, as he attempts to mold their characters through English lessons and Bible study.

In Its Own Voice

The author highlights the intense, repetitive nature of the religious rituals he observes in local temples, noting the sensory experience of the worshipers.

At the appointed hour, they assembled in a large hall where were a number of idols, and altars for offering incense, and also a drum and a bell to wake up the sleepy gods, and make them listen to their prayers.

The author frames the cultural difference regarding the value of girls by quoting an ancient Chinese text he encountered during his studies.

"When a man is born, he sleeps on a bed; He is clothed in robes, and plays with germs;— But when a daughter is born, she sleeps on the ground; She is clothed with a wrapper and plays with a tile."

He concludes his appeal by using a stark, urgent metaphor to describe the perceived spiritual danger facing the Chinese people.

You can easily imagine what would be your feelings, if you should see your fellow creatures, friends and strangers, sinking and drowning in the waves, and if it was in your power, you would, even at the hazard of your own lives, seek to save them.

What It's Really About

At its heart, this book is an argument for the necessity of universal proselytizing. It is not merely a travelogue but a persuasive text designed to transform the reader’s perception of "the heathen." The author grapples with the question of whether a civilization can be "wise" without the influence of the Bible, ultimately concluding that all intellectual or moral achievements in China are hollow because they lack a Christian foundation. The book is an exploration of the moral anxiety inherent in the missionary mindset—the belief that one’s failure to act results in the literal "sinking" of souls. It presents the tension between the author’s genuine curiosity about Chinese culture and his unwavering theological commitment to replace it.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of cross-cultural encounter will find this book an honest, if challenging, primary source. It provides a crisp, clear look at the material conditions of 1830s China—the food, the clothing, and the daily rhythms—that is often lost in more academic histories. It is written with a warmth that makes it easy to read, though modern readers will inevitably trip over the author's period-specific prejudices and his condescending view of Chinese traditions.

The book is best read as a study in conviction. It captures the specific, intense mentality of a nineteenth-century missionary, offering a look at what motivated individuals to travel across the globe to impose a new worldview. You will likely walk away from it thinking less about the geography of China and more about the power of belief to color one’s observations of the world. It is a slim volume that stays with you, not for its accuracy in describing the Chinese people, but for its terrifyingly earnest depiction of the missionary’s internal world. If you can navigate the author's heavy bias, you will find a window into a vanished era of global idealism.