The great danger that threatens mission schools, a danger which is increasing every year, is that the best pupils of these schools have to go to Universities in search of Western knowledge where they are exposed to the insidious attacks of Western materialism.
The teachers have at present no alternative; they have to send the best and brightest of their pupils somewhere to complete their education. It would be unfair on a boy to refuse to send him on, and if he is to receive a higher education, where can he get it but at some place where the atmosphere is distinctly anti-Christian.
There is in the East no place with a neutral atmosphere as there is in the West. In the West most people have had some Christian training, or at least they comprehend Christian ethics. So in a Western institution, even if the education be wholly secular, a Christian does not find everything antipathetic to his faith. But in the East the vast majority are non-Christian, and consequently the moral and intellectual atmosphere is hostile and antipathetic to a Christian. Here if an institution is non-religious it is probably not hostile to religion.In the East if an institution is non-religious it is probably anti-Christian. At present the only University in action is that of Tokio, though we are promised others, and its ill effects have been so obvious that the Chinese Government have ordered a wholesale withdrawal of pupils from its unhealthy influence.
As we have already pointed out, Western civilisation is magnificent but it is destructive, and when taught without any constructive religious teaching it inevitably tends to destroy all spiritual ideas and too often also to pervert the moral ideals of the race. As the pupil goes through the mission school he learns within its walls to shake himself free from the haunting fear of demons which besets every Chinaman; he has slowly realised that God is holy, good and loving, and has either accepted Christianity or stands on the threshold of the formal acceptance; he has reached the end of the curriculum of the school or college and his brilliancy demands a higher education. Attracted by the reputation of Tokio, he goes to its University, and there he finds himself in an atmosphere where all the destructive thought of Europe grows rankly; the good God in whom he has learned to believe in the mission school follows in the track of the demons of his youth, and he is left believing in a world founded by blind chance, where ethics are things of service to restrain your neighbour but folly to follow yourself. "Eat and drink, for to-morrow we die," is the lesson which is not perhaps taught in so many words, butwhich none the less is forced into his mind; his views become those of Falstaff; all that is fine, all that is noble, flees from his life; though he no longer believes in the God of Love, he does not return to the belief in the demons of his youth; there is nothing in his world beyond getting rich or gratifying the flesh and laughing at those people who believe in higher ideals. He has been acquainted with and has learnt to loathe from his youth up the philosophy of Yang Choo. He has, for instance, despised such a sentence as this: "The people of high antiquity knew both the shortness of life and how suddenly and completely it might be closed by death, and therefore they obeyed every suggestion of the movements of their hearts, refusing not what was natural for them to like, nor seeking to avoid any pleasure that occurred to them, they paid no heed to the incitement of fame; they enjoyed themselves according to their nature; they did not resist the common tendency of all things to self-enjoyment; they cared not to be famous after death. They managed to keep clear of punishment; as to fame and praise, being first or last, long life or short life, these things did not come into their calculations." And now he finds that the philosophy of Yang Choo is as he supposes the newest thought of the great rich successful Western world; as he returns to his home and spreads abroad the poisonous doctrines that he has imbibed, the missionary wonders whether, after all, it would not have been better to have left the man to his primitive demonology.
The American mission bodies saw this danger from the first, and have already set up great educational establishments which to a certain extent supply this need. That great institution Bishop Graves' College at Jessfield, the Boone College at Wuchang, the British College at Weihsien, and Methodist Universities at Soochow and Peking, are all examples of good work. But they do not, any of them, bring the student up to what we call University standard, or what I understand is called in America the post-graduate course; what is felt is, that there is need of an institution in which the highest knowledge shall be taught, where the true aspect of Western thought shall be shown—not that aspect which is bringing France to destruction, not that aspect which makes Belgium unconcerned at the Congo scandals, but the aspect which both in America and in England we have always admired at least in theory, and in practice when we have been strong. The fundamental truth on which our civilisation rests is that God is good, and that therefore truth and progress are right and possible, and that the highest expression of the goodness of God is in His incarnation as it is universally taught by Christians of various views and of many denominations. The West owes to the East, if there is any common duty of man to man, to set before it the real truth as to the greatness of Western civilisation, namely, that it is the result of Christianity.
But missions are not anxious merely for a Universityas a means of defence against the materialistic onslaught which threatens their work—they need it for many other reasons; for instance, the University would make it possible for all denominations to have highly educated native ministers. No student of missions can ever be content to regard them as an ideal arrangement. The conception of a race being ministered to spiritually by another race is obviously inadequate; it is open to many criticisms; there must be a confusion in the mind of the convert between what is national and what is Christian; one Chinese regarded Christianity with doubt because he had heard that the German Emperor is a Christian, and to his mind he is the embodiment of the fierce piratical Western races. The word which the Chinese use for robbers means red-bearded men, so associated, alas, is the Western race in China with war and rapine; it is easy for a member of the Western races to be misunderstood when he is talking about the religion of love. Would any English parish like as its Rector a Chinaman, even if he were saintly and went so far as to cut off his queue?
Setting aside the associations of the Western race, the Western race has great difficulty in speaking Chinese without making ridiculous mistakes. Who among us has not smiled when the Chinaman's inability to say the letter "r" has caused him to offer us "lice" to eat, but what must it be to the Chinaman when he hears the Western preacher lost amidst those mysterious Chinese intonations, andtherefore making some wonderful statement. A Chinese gentleman assured me that he had listened to a missionary extolling the virtues of a wild pig. Reverence forbids explaining what was really meant. If the ministers of religion are to be Chinese, it is obvious that they must be highly educated Chinese; to have religion taught by ignorant men in a country like China where learning is reverenced so profoundly, must be to condemn it as the religion of the coolie. The Chinese minister must be able to maintain his position, not only against the Confucian scholar, but against the Western materialist, and must therefore have an equally good education. Without saying that it is reasonable to expect that the Western missionary should be withdrawn within the next few years, I think it is wisdom for every mission body to aim at founding a body of educated native clergy who can free Christianity from the taunt of being a foreign religion, and who can, when the foreigner leaves China, take his place and uphold the faith.
If to have an educated native ministry is one great object of the University, another great and only less important object is the creation of an intellectual Christian laity who shall form and direct Christian public opinion. The school teacher, the writer, are only one degree less important, if indeed they are so, than the Christian minister; and if as China assimilates Western civilisation, she finds in her midst a body of men conversantwith the best side of that civilisation, able to interpret its mysteries to her, so that it does not become subversive to all spiritual religion and morality, it is more than probable that she will take those men and put them in high positions, and the grain of mustard seed will by their means grow into a plant which shall overshadow the whole of China. The other day I was reading how St. Grimaldi and St. Neots founded the University of Oxford in 886. Theology, grammar and rhetoric, music and arithmetic, geometry and astronomy, were the subjects taught. After a thousand years we are in a position to judge of the success of the experiment. Surely every one will wish to have a hand in founding a similar undertaking.
The foundation of this University cannot for two or three reasons be left to one body. In the first place, no one communion will be rich enough to undertake such a work; secondly, it might cause a certain narrowness of atmosphere; thirdly and chiefly, co-operation among Christians would afford an object-lesson to the Chinese of the real unity there is between them. We are constantly twitted with the fact that we confuse the heathen by professing the religion of love and then setting before them a mass of warring sects. If we can unite in the founding of such a University, we shall show that though we see the Christian truth in different aspects we have agreed that truth is one, and have in spite of our divisions a fundamental unity. Whenthis matter was referred to at the Shanghai Conference, considerable difficulty was felt among missionaries as to the terms on which such a University should be founded. It was agreed to refer it to the Committee on Education, and that Committee of Education has in the year 1909 welcomed the formation of such a University. Dr. Hawks Pott, who of all men in China can best speak as an authority on education, since he has organised and maintained that wonderful institution at Jessfield, warmly advocated its formation.
No doubt one of the reasons why the missionaries now see their way to the acceptance of this University is because a neutral body has come forward to initiate the undertaking. Committees of the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge have been sitting for many months considering the question with all the skill and ability which their great learning and technical knowledge enable them to bring to bear on this subject. Though of course they have a thorough knowledge of education in all its aspects, they were aware that they lacked knowledge of China and the Chinese, so for many months they heard and examined the evidence of any one who was thoroughly acquainted with China and with the conditions of missionary work. They devised a scheme which they thought would at once satisfy the workers in the mission field and be acceptable to the Chinese. The mere outline of the scheme is that this University should encourage the formation of denominational hostels, which shallbe under the control of individual missionary bodies, and which shall form colleges at the University; and while the University alone would concern itself with giving secular teaching from a neutral standpoint, the colleges would give Christian teaching to their pupils. In this way all conflict between missions would be avoided; each mission would continue to care for the pupils which it had hitherto sheltered and educated. To the University would accrue the great gain of having a supply of properly prepared pupils coming into it from the mission schools, one of the causes of disappointment of ill-considered University schemes being that there is no proper provision for a supply of pupils. In the West there are numerous secondary schools, and any University can easily find a sufficient number of pupils properly grounded in knowledge. In the East to erect a University without feeding schools is like building a house in the Chinese fashion roof first. The Yale University Mission found itself compelled to set up elementary schools to teach the elementary Western knowledge which was necessary before even the lowest grade of college work could be attempted. Western teachers are, as we have before explained, few and far between outside the mission schools, and therefore mission schools would both help and be helped by a University. The University completes the work they have begun, and returns the men to the mission to carry on its work with honour and efficiency. On the other hand, the mission supplies theUniversity with pupils, which after all are the prime necessity of education.
Another great feature of the Oxford and Cambridge scheme was that the University should aim to be a native University, and this no doubt was the side which attracted the Chinese. Instead of using knowledge, the common heritage of all men, as the means of imposing the domination of the alien on China, knowledge is offered by this University as essentially the thing which belongs to China as well as to any other race. If in the commencement the majority of the professors must belong to the Western race, it is to be hoped that many of its professors will soon come from China, and that when the University is well begun, and Christianity has become as national a religion as it is in our land, and Western civilisation has lost the right to describe itself by that epithet, and has become the civilisation of the East as of the West, then the University whose foundation is now being laid may be the great light of the future China.
Perhaps the most important part of the scheme is that which suggests denominational hostels as the proper solution of the difficulties that beset union and interdenominational work in the mission field.
There are obvious difficulties in arranging for a common religious teaching, and, on the other hand, it is very advantageous for the many mission bodies at work in China to show a united front against the new materialism and the ancient superstition.Nothing so shows the power of Christian love as a union work of this nature.
We Christians are often taunted with our differences, and we are assured that many will support any scheme that makes for union and peace between the different elements of the Christian world. Here is a scheme which will tend to bring Christians together, and to induce that mutual respect and toleration which must be the foundation of a closer union. The baby must walk before he runs, and if the Christians of China can maintain such a University, their daily intercourse will greatly assist any further scheme for unity.
But there is another use in the hostel system which should not be overlooked. At all times one of the great hindrances to the education of young men is the tendency that they have to waste their strength in riot and wantonness. The Chinaman is perhaps more subject to these temptations than the Westerner. A student said: "We cannot work; we are too profligate." A Chinese statesman advised against certain towns as possible sites for a University because of their tendency to entice men into vicious courses. Far the most efficient way of opposing this evil is to make some one responsible for the moral welfare of the young men, and this is done in the hostel system.
Every hostel would be governed by some person who would make the moral welfare of the young men his peculiar care and study. The head of the hostel might or might not be on the teaching staff of theUniversity; but whether he taught or not, his first duty would be the care of the moral and spiritual welfare of those committed to his charge. He would give all his energy to reproduce the highest moral tone of a Western University.
This scheme is being tried in Chentu, where a union University is being started. And I believe it is in every way proving successful. Those who have not realised the size of China will be perhaps inclined to ask why not unite the two schemes? The simple answer to those who have travelled is that the distances are too vast. You might as well talk of uniting Oxford and Harvard, for those two Universities are about as far from one another in time as Hankow is from Chentu. Even when the railway is built the distances will be immense. The enormous distances of China are also a reason why it was impossible to amalgamate the Hong-Kong scheme and the Oxford and Cambridge scheme. Hong-Kong is now ten days to a fortnight away from Hankow, and such a different language is spoken there that the dwellers in Northern and Central China are often forced to use English to understand one another.
The University of Hong-Kong will be very beneficial to the colony, and is an example of the generosity of the merchants and citizens of that town; but as a means of naturalising the higher side of our civilisation it labours under the great disadvantage of not being either in China nor under the Chinese flag, nor of speaking the prevailing language.
The Committees at Oxford and Cambridge had not been without hope that the missionary world would accept the scheme readily once it was well understood.
They had had the advantage of many interviews with missionaries and others in London at their joint meetings so as to make it a matter of some certainty that a large portion of the Western educators of China would agree with them. But they were rather doubtful whether the scheme would be welcomed by the Chinese official world.
The commercial world in London that had dealings with China was rather pessimistic. They held the view that you only had to mention the word Christian or missionary to a Chinese official and it would have the same effect that the word rats has on a terrier. But as I have before related, we were agreeably surprised to find at the very outset that the Chinese official world were far from hostile, and that we were given, unasked, letters of introduction, whose contents I did not know except that they procured for us a welcome in China which was as surprising as it was delightful. I learnt in China that knowledgeand learning is so loved and respected that those whose object is its dissemination will ever find a ready welcome, and I learnt also that whatever may have been their sentiments in the past, in the present the Chinese have no hatred towards Christianity, but they regard it as one of the least odious parts of the Western civilisation which has become for them a necessity. I had also the privilege of seeing His Excellency Tong-Shao-Yi in London, and he did not discourage the plan.
When we arrived at Harbin we found an official ready to receive us who had been sent to welcome the scheme to China. His instructions were to accompany us to Kwangchangtzu and to watch over our comfort. As he only spoke Chinese, conversation was difficult; but with the aid of a member of the Imperial Customs we gathered the object of his mission. At Mukden we met with a similar civility. I was invited to dine at the Yamen. I shall always remember my drive to that dinner. At Mukden no carrying chairs are used, but a springless cart, in which the traveller, or more accurately the sufferer, reclines. I was late for dinner, so the order was given to the charioteer to drive quick, and as we bounded over the unpaved streets of a Manchurian town I had an opportunity of realising one of the minor discomforts of Chinese missionary life. At the Yamen the same civility was shown to the scheme, and next day Dr. Ross, my kindly host, took me to see a Manchu noble of high rank. He was more than encouraging. He first sounded the notethat I found vibrating through the whole of China. He asked why did not the West concern itself with such things as education, which benefit man, rather than with war, which produces such endless suffering and misery.
At Peking I met some great officials who all were favourable, but it was not till we got south that we encountered what can only be described as enthusiasm for Western education. One gentleman advised that such an institution should be started at once, and recommended the recall of all students studying in Western lands to fill its ranks. Another who was interpreting was not satisfied with the prudent official reply I received that the plan was good, but that I must make inquiries at Peking. He added: "Make inquiries at Peking; but if they refuse, go on with your scheme all the same." A body of young men who had been educated at Boone College sent a petition that the scheme should be forthwith undertaken, but perhaps the most remarkable experience was that which I had at Shanghai. I was entertained by thirteen of the gentry who had all received their education in the West. We discussed every aspect of the plan, and when I pressed upon them that one of the good results of the University would be that it would have a healthy moral environment, an old man turned to his companions and said: "We have ourselves had experience of this. The environment in which we lived when we were in the West was different from that in which we found ourselves when we returnedto Shanghai, and did not it largely affect our lives?" After we had talked some time the question was put plainly to them: "Would they support such a University?" One of them turned round and said: "Of course we should. It is obvious that if you will give us in China the same sort of University as there is in England, if only on the score of expense, we shall want to send our sons there; besides which no one likes parting from their children and leaving them in a distant land."
I discussed the matter with a Chinese statesman in Peking. I asked whether Peking would not be a good centre, but he was very adverse to the idea, because he said that Peking had such a bad moral tone that boys would not be able to do any good work, and that he himself far preferred that Chinese boys should be sent at ten years old to England to receive their whole education in our country. When we pointed out to him how, except in the case of a few rich men, such a course would be quite impossible, he said: "Then put your University right away in the western hills out of reach of the immoral influences of a town." There can be few more eloquent testimonies to the necessity of another University; nothing but a Christian University could succeed in creating the moral atmosphere, which this wise man saw was the power of the West. In the same conversation he gave a further testimony to the power of Christianity, all the more striking that it was uttered by a man who was not a Christian. He said: "Yes,I have no doubt that all that is good in the West comes from Christianity."
All the officials we interviewed always ended their encomiums on the suggested scheme by a saving clause to the effect that, before we did anything, we must ask his Excellency Chang-Chih-Tung. When we passed through Peking the first time we failed to see him, and it was therefore with some anxiety I sought an interview with him on our return journey.
Chang was a figure in the politics of China whose importance it would be hard to over-estimate. Not that he had the reputation for being a peculiarly able man; in fact, some of the Europeans spoke slightingly of his mentality. His force and influence came rather from his moral qualities. He was the perfect type of Confucian scholar.
Wonderfully well versed in all the knowledge of the literati of China, he was far from despising any form of knowledge; in fact, he was one of the first of the statesmen of China to recognise the importance of Western education. When we were discussing with some leading merchants the want of integrity of many of the officials, they claimed Chang as an exception with enthusiasm. He had held the highest offices and still remained comparatively poor. His reputation for clean-handedness was enhanced by his age. In China the old are greatly reverenced, and an old, honest, and learned statesman combined three of the qualities most admired in China.
It was therefore with some trepidation that Ifound myself going to see a man whose moral authority was so great that he could with a word mar or make the University scheme as far as the power of the Chinese officials extended, and in his case this was very far. I was alone, for owing to the rather heated debates that divided the British and Chinese Governments over the Canton-Wuchang Railway, it was thought advisable that no member of the Legation should come with me. I drove down to the north end of the city, and turning down a by-lane, scarcely wide enough for the carriage to pass, we drew up opposite a very modest dwelling. I was received by His Excellency's nephew, a man of extremely courtly manners; and as he conducted me across the yard I was struck by the simplicity of the house. The room, for instance, into which I was ushered had a brick floor, and was separated from the courtyard only by a paper and wood screen. Imagine what the intense cold must be in a Peking winter when the thermometer is somewhere below zero! The furniture of the room was equally simple. Two Chinese chairs of the Chinese guest-room pattern, standing on each side of the usual Chinese table, were supported on the other side of the room by a token of the ever-encroaching West in the shape of a common round table and some mongrel-looking stools, which looked as if they were productions of Japan palmed off as European.
As we sat and talked (for I was too early for my interview) my host told me all about his uncle'sfamily, and the while I wondered at the austerity of the dwelling of the greatest man in China after those of royal blood.
His Excellency was then ready to receive me, and we adjourned to another equally simple room where the usual table with tea, sweetmeats, and wine was laid out. Chang during the whole interview smoked a long pipe, which required all the efforts of what I took to be two boys, but who really were slave-girls, to keep alight. He wanted to know where the money was to come from. I assured him that there are many generous people in England and America who, desiring to leave a good name behind them, and convinced that education confers on humanity incalculable benefits, are willing to give largely to such a cause.
Then he inquired what line we should take with regard to Confucian learning; I said Christianity and Confucianism need not be opposed, and we should respect and encourage the teaching of the sage. He clearly approved, and gave me advice as to the course of study to be followed—first, Chinese letters, then foreign languages; and he advised as the site for the University some place near Wuchang and not Peking.
He then assured me that I might tell my countrymen that he approved of the scheme. "Who," said he, "could but approve of such a scheme?"
As I left he accompanied me across the courtyard, though I protested, and I felt I had been honouredby this interview with one of China's greatest men. He was the embodiment of all that was fine in China. He belonged to an age that is passing away. The Chinese statesman of the future will learn Western luxury with Western knowledge.
One word in conclusion. I have tried to show the greatness of the crisis that is before us. The civilisation which has long been worn by the white man alone is now being donned by the yellow man, not as the result only of missionary effort, but as the result of those great world causes over which puny mankind has no control; and I have tried to show that all that we can do is to recognise and frankly accept this great fact, namely, that the members of the human race who are subject to and governed by our civilisation are to be nearly doubled, and that the second half will import into that civilisation not only new traditions, but a new racial personality, which must cause a fundamental alteration in many of its traditions and customs. We must not say that the movement will be shortly completed, for it has scarcely yet begun; but we have seen enough in the success that has attended the movement both in Japan and in China, to convince us that it will ultimately dominate the Far East. This movement may be for good or for evil; it may be for the downfall of the world, for the perpetual misery of mankind, if that which is evil in both civilisations is to be perpetuated andthat which is good is to be destroyed; or it may be for the benefit of mankind if, when the Christian civilisation welcomes the great yellow races, it accepts from them, as it has accepted from many other races, their characteristic virtues. Hitherto our civilisation has grown richer; every race it has conquered has added beauty to its traditions and nobility to its ideals. We may look forward with hope, if not with confidence, to its future. But if this momentous change in the history of the world is to be well directed, it can only be done by men of sincere Christian faith; and if the civilisation is to augment these benefits to mankind, it can only be by being more fully endued with the Christian ethics on which its whole greatness depends.
For the perpetuation of this ethic, for the education of the future thinkers of China, we suggest a University is needed; that University should not be founded by one race alone. Some may differ from us, and hold that other action is advisable. They may be right, but it behoves them to formulate their policy, because one thing seems certain—that a policy of inaction at the present moment is one which is fraught with risk, if not with disaster. If no one makes any effort to direct the thought of this vast unit of mankind into the right paths, it is improbable that good will naturally result. The fitting of Western thought to an Oriental race, while it must be chiefly left to the race itself, needs clearly the help of those who are conversant with the best aspectsof that Western thought and of its history. The missionary has done much, but he himself is the first to say, "I cannot do all; I must be supported by those who will teach my converts the fulness of Western knowledge." And so the missionaries have inaugurated a policy of education which is most successful as far as it has gone. The question before all well-wishers of China is, shall it go further; shall we show China the intellectual light by which we are walking, or shall we leave China to stumble in the darkness till she falls into deeper error.
Those who look forward to progress in this world must also look forward to breaking up the old evil traditions and to founding new ones; the old tradition, which limited love to citizens of the same State, which put bounds on charity, so that man did not love man unless he spoke the same language, or at least had the same coloured skin, is dying fast though it is dying hard. A new tradition is being founded, and must be further developed, in which, as in the parable of the Good Samaritan, the word love is taught as passing and transcending all bounds of race and language. The cultivation of this new tradition is vital to the existence of our civilisation. If love cannot bind races together, the improved arts of war will in time extinguish the civilisation that gave them birth. If we are to encourage international love, we can best do it by sharing together in international acts of mercy and generosity. The great Chinese race has need of the wealth of Westernknowledge. Let Western races join together to give them what they need, and in so doing they will not merely benefit China, though as China counts for a quarter of the population of this world, and is nearly equal to the number of men who have a right to call themselves civilised, that were no small merit; but they will do more, for they will by common acts of mercy and love bind each to each so that the horrid curse of racial hatred shall not be again able to divide them. The elements of good in one race will be brought in contact with the similar elements in another race; men will learn to trust men; and that which the thundering cannon can never compel, or the keenest wit of statesmen ever compass, will be accomplished by the obedience and simple faith of the Christian men and women of all races, and the world will be welded into one solid piece, where men can work without wasting their efforts in making machines to torture and kill their fellow-men, and where at last the prophecy shall be fulfilled: "They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks."
When it was settled that we should go to China to see what opportunities there were there for an educational mission emanating from our English Universities, we decided to goviâSiberia, and stop at St. Petersburg and also at Irkutsk on the way. I had previously found the journey of fifteen days without a break exhausting to myself and still more so to my wife who accompanied me. The plan had also the advantage that it gave me an opportunity of trying to find out why the great Russian Church had never attempted any serious mission work in China. From a mere inspection of the map one would naturally have expected that the Christian power which had a frontier with China of thousands and thousands of miles would have been the most forward in that country in fulfilling the command of the founder of Christianity to give His message of happiness to every living man. In our previous tour we had been surprised to find that the missionary efforts of Russia were insignificant in China, though, strange to say, they were fairly vigorous in Japan. When we arrived at St. Petersburg I was fortunate enough to obtain letters of introduction to the courteous gentleman who then represented the imperial power in the councils of the Russian Church, M. Iwolsky, Procurator of the Holy Synod. One thing became evident; for the time being Russia is so much absorbed in politics as to be oblivious of other duties. Living in England, we can little realise the excitement and anxiety that filled the minds of many who dwelt in the far off villages of Russia, while they waited to hear whether or not they were to be engulfed in a revolution as dangerousand as far-reaching as that which more than a hundred years ago overwhelmed France.
A lady described to me how she had sat in terror in her country house when all communication from St. Petersburg had ceased owing to the strikes, while the smoke of surrounding houses which had been set on fire by marauding bands told of the fate which might possibly await her. Now all that is over. The revolution—so they think in Russia—is a thing of the past; and Russia has entered on a course of conservative reform to which, if she adheres, will doubtless make her a prosperous and contented empire.
I gathered from some of my informants that the reasons why Russia had been backward in the mission field, and also why she was racked with revolution, were in reality the same, namely, that the Orthodox Church was not so vigorous and had not that hold on the consciences of the people that it ought to have. Not that for one moment Russia is ceasing to be religious. The attendance at Father John's funeral was quoted as disproving such a possibility. People of the working and middle classes came for miles to stand on a bleak cold day for long hours merely to catch a glimpse of the coffin which contained the mortal remains of a man who, according to their belief, lived more than any man in accordance with God's law. Russia is religious to the very core; but, like all religious nations, our own included, she longs to express her deep sincerity through diversity and not through uniformity. Alas! there are people in every nation who want to put us in one religious uniform and to march us like soldiers at the word of command straight into heaven's gate. In England this view only makes some good and narrow-minded people anxious to have such a thing as religious uniformity in our schools; but in Russia this doctrine has been more vigorously held, and is doubtless responsible for the waning power of the Orthodox Church. Mr. Pobiedonosteff, leader of the reactionary movement, nearly caused a revolution, and certainlyweakened the Church, by insisting on Uniformity and Orthodoxy. He believed that there could be but one form of religion in the State, and therefore he discouraged every other form of religious activity. Not only did he rightly forbid those strange wild immoral sects who practise and teach mutilation, but even the sober and devout followers of Lord Radstock were to be silenced. The result of such a policy was but too obvious. Religion was made odious by the insincerity which such a policy must foster, and the State became detestable to all earnest Christians who claimed the inherent right of every living soul to love and worship his Creator in accordance with his true convictions.
All this has now passed like a bad dream. People in Russia may believe what they like and worship God how they like. M. Iwolsky was most anxious that the world should know that he, the then representative of temporal power in the councils of the Russian Church, so far from encouraging the idea that Christ's Church can be controlled by a temporal power, however great, was most careful to maintain that in spiritual matters the Church is independent of the State, even if in temporal matters she submit herself to the authority of Government. Peter the Great abolished the Patriarchate; he added many, though not all, of the powers of the Patriarchate to the Crown; and therefore the Emperor represents the Patriarch in many ways. But it is wholly misunderstanding his position to say that in spiritual matters he is supreme. The Russian Church, like all other branches of the Church, is controlled and governed by councils, both general and provincial.
But M. Iwolsky had to confess that the power which the State wielded in the Synod of the Church was still very great. The Crown has three ways in which it can influence the council. First, though the members of the council are representatives of the Church, it is the Crown who decides (with the exception of the Metropolitans) who those representatives shall be; secondly, the Crown, through the Procurator, can forbid any action whichbrings the Synod into conflict with the laws of the State; lastly, the Procurator, as representative of the Crown, must always be present at the debates of the Synod, and has always a right to express his opinion, even on spiritual questions. Such powers put together clearly give the Crown a control not only in things temporal, but, if it is desired, an influence in things spiritual as well. Still it cannot be too widely known that at any rate in theory the Russian Church is in things spiritual independent of temporal power. Most Englishmen would think, no doubt, that if the Church is to hold her rightful place in the hearts of Russians, she can only do it by relying on the power of preaching rather than on the power of the sword. Therefore it would be best for both Church and State if they had less to do with one another. English Churchmen will be glad to hear that there is some prospect of a Synod of the Orthodox Church being held, independently of the existing Holy Synod—a council which may rank as a General Synod of the Greek Communion, if other branches of the Orthodox Church are invited to join in its deliberations, of which there is some prospect. The object of this Synod will be to reform the discipline of the Church, a matter which is engaging, I understand, the sincere attention of the devout Christians of Russia. Few things bear truer witness to the weakness of the Church in Russia than the low moral tone which exists, as all witnesses aver, in every grade of Russian social life. The outward observance of the fasts and feasts and ceremonies of the Church, though admirable in itself, is perfectly consistent with a great deal of scepticism with regard to the truths of Christianity. It is not uncharitable to suspect such scepticism when a great profession of Christianity is accompanied by a low moral tone. The Church has felt her weakness and has sought the help of the State, and has therefore not succeeded in her mission.
Now happier days have opened for Russia which it is hoped may lead on to happier ones beyond. The State nolonger helps the Church by silencing her critics, by exiling those who cannot agree with her: the Buddhist who lately at the definite command of the Government had accepted Christianity has returned to sincerity and open profession of Buddhism. The Church no longer so supported by the State may feel her weakness, but she will grow rather than diminish in strength as she learns to use more and more the real weapon of Christianity, namely, the sacred truths of our religion published both by writing and by preaching. Russia is one of the great nations of the world. The Orthodox Church which dominates Russia is both true and faithful, and she will guide her people into prosperity and peace when she has learned to follow her Master's example and to order the sword drawn in her defence to be returned altogether to its sheath.
Nothing can be at present expected from the unorthodox bodies who until lately have been persecuted to such a degree that they have scarcely been able to exist. In external matters the Orthodox Church commands the obedience of the nation to a wonderful degree, but in controlling the deep convictions of the heart she lacks power. Nowhere is this more obvious than in the moral tone which prevails in Russian society. Perhaps it is not just or fair to take the capital of Siberia as a specimen of ordinary moral life in Russia, but one might well say at Irkutsk that all save the spirit of man is divine. We had been to a certain extent prepared by our previous tour to disbelieve in the horrors of the climate of Siberia, but what we saw and heard at Irkutsk has convinced me that Siberia should rank high among the places that are reckoned pleasant for human habitation. Siberia, or certainly the eastern part of Siberia, is not the dreary plain, wind-swept and miserable, that one read of in one's childhood. On the contrary, it is a land of constant calms and steady sunshine, a land of lakes and hills, and though it is cold, the cold seems but trifling in the glorious sunshine of a Siberian winter. I feel certain that if Lake Baikal weresomewhere within reach of London it would be one of the most frequented centres for pleasure-seekers. And from the point of view of wealth it is a most favoured land; a land where there is gold and where there is coal; a land where there is copper and silver, and where a hot summer ripens thoroughly all cereal crops. For sportsmen it seems a veritable paradise. The pheasant (or at least his brother) with whom we have long been conversant as dying of every disease in the moist coverts of England, lives wild in this dry and healthy climate. The wild boar and the wolf, the bear and many forms of the antelope and deer, are to be found on the borders between Siberia and China. The rivers are full of salmon and other fish whose names I cannot attempt to give.
If an Englishman were asked to choose whether he would live in St. Petersburg or in exile at Irkutsk, he would, I believe, have no doubt in deciding in favour of the latter, if—and that is a great if—the spirit of man were not so human and corrupt. We were told that there are six hundred women who are divorced in the jurisdiction of Irkutsk. Such a statement indeed seems incredible, but certainly the morals of the officers leave much to be desired. Vices go in flocks, therefore laziness perhaps accounts for the amazing state of things which exists in Irkutsk. The town is as full of officers as Eton is of boys. Epaulettes jostle you in the streets, you tumble over swords in the restaurants, and with all this force at the disposal of the authorities—for I conclude that some at least of these officers have soldiers under them—the streets of Irkutsk are unsafe after dark. Person after person warned us of the danger of being unarmed at night, at any rate in the by-streets. People are murdered in their own houses in the suburbs; women have their fur coats torn off their backs. One is aghast at the incredible slackness of the authorities, who instead of instituting a reasonable police force such as exists even in Chinese cities, allow the city to be watched at night by aged Dogberrys in huge fur coats armed withrattles which they use incessantly. Certainly, though they may fail to frighten away robbers with this primitive weapon of protection, they succeed in interrupting the slumbers of the visitor. In the department of municipal activity the town is equally badly organised. The streets were under snow, and as upon a hard-seated sledge we leapt from hole to hole, we had at least the comfort of realising that in summer their condition must be even more trying.
It is unsafe to trust gossip, but I give it for what it is worth. We were assured that the only reason why the priceless wealth which Russia possesses in the gold mines of Siberia was not further developed was because of a similar official incompetence. There is said to be a great deal of secret digging for gold. Men disappear in the summer and reappear in the autumn with a pound's weight of pure gold, for the gold lies only about three metres below the ground. But if this primitive form of mining came to the knowledge of the Government it would put in force the mining laws which would then successfully stifle the industry.
It is needless to add that profligacy and laziness are not the only vices against which Russian Christianity has to contend. Their people have another in common with ourselves of which the Church is only too well aware and which it is making great efforts to suppress, namely, drunkenness. Actually on our journey we had an example of this vice which every one regarded as comic, but which might have been tragic. The train is brought suddenly to a standstill. There is something wrong. Everybody tumbles out of the carriage to look. A man is lying in the snow. At first it is thought he has been knocked down by a previous train. Further examination shows that it is only a man dead drunk lying right across the line—the result of keeping one of the festivals of the Church. Every one laughs; he is pulled out of the way, we climb back into the train, leaving him in the care of a priest, quite unconscious how near he has been to death. Drunkenness is a terrible evil in our own land, but its results are far more terrible inthis land of frost-bite. There are numbers of people without hands and feet begging in the street, and we were told that the general cause of these injuries was vodka. A man going home falls into a drunken sleep on the way: he awakes next morning with his hands and feet frost-bitten, or perhaps he never wakes again: the sleep of drunkenness merges into the sleep of death.
As one considers these things one realises why the Buddhist Bouriat and the Mohammedan Tartar still adhere to their ancient faiths.
I do not think an Englishman has a right to criticise other nations when so much remains to be done at home. Still one cannot truthfully say that, however numerous her churches or well-attended her services, the Orthodox Church directs Russia while she is powerless to make headway against these vices.
The great trials through which Russia has passed hold out every reason to hope that with liberty, purity of worship will be again established, and where there is purity of faith there must be mission work. No doubt the Government has hindered mission work; in fact, they have forbidden it in China. Christianity was to them so much the handmaid of the State as to be inconceivable outside the State; but all this is breaking down. The great mission work conducted in Japan to which I have before referred has shown that the Orthodox Church grows well on Eastern soil. The existence of a village preserving the Orthodox religion in the middle of China which has been spoken of above, has demonstrated at least the vitality of that faith among the Chinese nation. When the Russian missionaries cross the frontier they will not leave their own country weaker, but their work will be a token that Russia is purifying her faith and is advancing along the road that leads to holiness.