FOOTNOTES:

SHRINE ON SUMMIT OF KU SHAN(see p.396).

VILLAGERS AT A TEMPLE DOORWAY(see p.415).

But, comes the reply, when we say the Chinese are idolaters we are only stating a simple fact that any one can verify for himself. "That the Chinese have profound faith in their idols," says a Western writer, "is a fact that cannot for a moment be questioned. China is a nation of idolaters, and neither learning nor intelligence nor high birth tends to quench the belief that has come down from the past that these wooden gods have a power of interfering in human life, and of being able to bestow blessings or to send down curses upon men."[405]

Now this question of idolatry is a difficult one to deal with, for plain speaking is sure to offend. It is on the heads of the unfortunate Chinese "idols" that the vials of Christian wrath are chiefly poured. As a matter of fact it is rather questionable whether the images in Chinese temples are correctly described as idols at all. Surely it would be less misleading to reserve that term for images which are regarded as godsper seand not merely as clay or wooden representations of gods. One sees a Chinese "worshipping" an image, say, of Kuan Yin. Does he regard Kuan Yin as actually present before him or does he merely regard the image as a man-made statue of his goddess,—an image set up as an aid to prayer or as a stimulator of the imagination or the emotions?

Theoretically, at least, he most emphatically does not believe that the goddess is herself before him: for he knows perfectly well that if he walks two miles to another temple he will find another image of the same divinity; and that if he wishes to do so he may come across three or four Kuan Yins in the course of a single day's walk. On the island of Pootoo he could see dozens in a couple of hours. Unless the goddess is endowed with multiple personalities it is obvious that she cannot possibly be present in every image, and that all these clay figures are therefore merely lifeless statues which fulfil a useful enough function in exciting the devotional feelings of worshippers who might feel unable to offer up prayers to a blank wall. If the Christian urges that the Chinese worshipper of Kuan Yin is still an idolater because there is no such person as Kuan Yin either in the material world or in the spiritual and that therefore nothing remains to worship but the image, it may at least be tentatively suggested that if indeed there be a God of Love then the prayers that fly forth on the wings of sincerity from an upright heart will not be allowed—though they be misdirected—to flutter aimlessly for ever in some dark region of Godlessness.

That the Chinese sometimes treat the images of their gods or saints as if they were sentient creatures is true enough. They are taken out in processions, for example, and sometimes—if public prayers have been disregarded—they are buffeted and even mutilated. This is simply another instance of the remarkable inconsistency that seems to go hand in hand with religious opinions all over the world, and in the case of the most ignorant classes is doubtless due to the fact that many uneducated people cannot conceive of the existence of a being that is in no way cognisable by the bodily senses. Is Christendom free from such inconsistency? Certainly not in the matter of images,[406]as any one may see for himself at any time in southern Europe and elsewhere. There is a story told of St. Bernard, who eight hundred years ago knelt in a cathedral in front of an image of Mary. Devoutly and fervently he commenced to pray: "O gracious, mild and highly favoured Mother of God," he began: when lo! the image opened its lips and vouchsafed an answer. "Welcome, my Bernard!" it said. In high displeasure the saint rose to his feet. "Silence!" he said, with a frown at his holy patron. "No woman is allowed to speak in the congregation."

Let us pass this over as a fable, for it finds no place in theAurea Legendaand is useful only as an indication that St. Bernard, though doubtless a true disciple of St. Paul,[407]took a somewhat ungenerous view of women's rights. But there are other facts to be noted which are not fables. "Is it not notorious," says Max Müller, "what treatment the images of saints receive at the hands of the lower classes in Roman Catholic countries? Della Valle relates that Portuguese sailors fastened the image of St. Anthony to the bowsprit, and then addressed him kneeling, with the following words: 'O St. Anthony, be pleased to stay there till thou hast given us a fair wind for our voyage.' Frezier writes of a Spanish captain who tied a small image of the Virgin Mary to the mast, declaring that it should hang there till it had granted him a favourable wind. Kotzebue declares that the Neapolitans whip their saints if they do not grant their requests."[408]In a missionary's account of China I recently came across a statement to the effect that in this land of idolatry, gamblers and other evil-doers will sometimes take the precaution of bandaging their idols' eyes so that the divinity may not be aware of what they are doing. This I believe is true enough, and it proves that in such cases, at least, the clay figures are supposed to be endowed with human senses; unless indeed the real idea at the root of the proceeding is connected with what is known as sympathetic magic: "As I bandage the eyes of the god's image so the eyes of the god himself (wherever he may be) will for the nonce be sightless." But even this practice is not unknown to Christendom, however repugnant it may be to Christianity. In the passage from which I have just quoted Max Müller goes on to mention an analogous practice in Russia: "Russian peasants, we are told, cover the face of an image when they are doing anything unseemly, nay, they even borrow their neighbours' saints if they have proved themselves particularly successful."[409]

There are Protestant missionaries who will agree that in tolerating superstitions of this kind the Roman Catholics and the Greek Church are as bad or nearly as bad as the Chinese themselves—and they will not hesitate to let their Chinese "enquirers" know what their opinions on the subject are. The Rev. J. Edkins, in describing a great Roman Catholic establishment at Shanghai, remarks that "it caused us some painful reflections to see them forming images of Joseph and Mary and other Scripture personages, in the same way that idol-makers in the neighbouring towns were moulding Buddhas and gods of war and riches, destined too to be honoured in much the same manner."[410]Elsewhere the same writer remarks that "unfortunately, Catholicism must always carry with it the worship of the Madonna, the masses for the dead, the crucifix and the rosary. Some of the books the Jesuits have published in Chinese contain the purest Christian truth; but it is an unhappy circumstance that they must be accompanied by others which teach frivolous superstition."[411]It is interesting to observe with what comfortable confidence the Protestant missionary tacitly assumes infallibility as to what does and what does not constitutethe purest Christian truthand what is and what is notfrivolous superstition. Noah's ark and Jonah's whale would no doubt come under the former heading, the doctrine of the Real Presence under the latter. Yet Dr. Edkins might have remembered that Roman Catholicism and the Eastern (Greek) Church embrace, after all, an exceedingly large part of Christendom, and are just as confident of their own possession of the truth as he was. As for Protestants, if they have refrained from worshipping pictures and images, have they not come perilously near worshipping a Book?

No wonder Emergency Committees and English University officials are bestirring themselves to find means for the education of China when they are told, for example, that the people of that country from the Emperor downwards believe that an eclipse signifies the eating of the sun or moon by a celestial dog or a dragon. Perhaps it may be worth while to dwell a little on this particular superstition. I will not venture to deny that this quaint belief is honestly held by many, but I may say that after questioning very many Chinese, mostly ignorant and illiterate, on this threadbare subject I have only discovered one who appeared (after cross-examination) sincerely to believe that eclipses are caused by a hungry beast. That person was an old woman (only half Chinese by race) who kept a tea-house near Tali in western Yünnan. Her confession of belief, I may add, was greeted with roars of laughter by the crowd of Chinese coolies who were sipping their tea close by and who heard my question and the woman's reply.

In Dr. Tylor's great work we read that the Chiquitos of South America "thought" that the moon in an eclipse was hunted across the sky by huge dogs, and they raised frightful howls and lamentation to drive them off; the Caribs "thought" that the demon Maboya, hater of light, was seeking to devour the sun and moon, and danced and howled all night to scare him away; the Peruvians "imagined" that a monstrous beast was eating the moon and shouted and sounded musical instruments to frighten him, and even beat their own dogs in order to make them join in the general uproar. Other similar theories existed inNorth America also.[412]It is curious to find such customs existing in both Asia and America. Some have thought that Fu-sang,[413]the mysterious land of bliss and immortality, which according to song and legend lay very far away in the eastern ocean, was a portion of the American continent;[414]and it has even been held that an ambassador from Fu-sang (or a Chinese who had visited Fu-sang and had safely returned) was received at the Chinese Imperial Court, where he gave an account of the strange land. China's possible knowledge of the existence of the American continent in prehistoric days is a fascinating subject that we cannot pursue here, but with reference to the accounts of the American eclipse-theories one feels inclined to ask whether the peoples named were as a matter of fact convinced of the truth of the dog or demon theory while they were beating tom-toms and shouting themselves hoarse, or whether the practices referred to by Dr. Tylor did not merely represent the survival in comparatively civilised times of a custom which in a ruder age had been based on a real belief. This would not of course mean—either in China or America—that the belief might not still be vaguely held by ignorant women and children and even in a thoughtless way by many average men. They would "believe" that some horrid beast was eating the sun just as a modern child—the Victorian child, at least, if not the Edwardian—usually "believed" that Santa Claus was a benevolent old gentleman who entered people's houses by way of the chimney.

There are always people to be found in every race whose minds are of the receptive but unanalytic order—people who continue to believe anything they have been told in childhood simply because it does not occur to them to ask questions or to think out problems for themselves. Whether such a mental attitude is worthy of being called an attitude of "belief" is another matter. What makes it suspiciously probable that the shouting and uproar among certain American tribes was merely a ceremonial survival from a primitive age is the fact that entirely different and much more reasonable theories of the cause of a lunar or solar eclipse were known and apparently assented to by the very people who nominally believed in the hungry-dog theory. "Passing on from these most primitive conceptions," says Dr. Tylor, "it appears that natives of both South and North America fell upon philosophic myths somewhat nearer the real facts of the case, insomuch as they admit that the sun and moon cause eclipses of one another."[415]A further significant observation is made that the Aztecs, "as part of their remarkable astronomical knowledge, seem to have had an idea of the real cause of eclipses," yet "kept up a relic of the old belief by continuing to speak in mythologic phrase of the sun and moon being eaten."

It is the old story, that to introduce changes into religious ceremonial is considered impious or sacrilegious, even when the advance of knowledge renders such ceremonial meaningless. One hears of stone knives being used by priests for sacrificial purposes long ages after metal has come into common use, simply because a kind of sanctity is attached to the form of instrument that was used when the sacrificial rite itself was young: though it had only been selected originally because in the stone age nothing better was available. One of the stone knives of some Western Churches is the so-called Creed of St. Athanasius. There are many other stone implements in the ecclesiastical armouries of the West, but some of them are cunningly carved and regilded from time to time so that as long as no one examines them too critically they are regarded without disfavour. But the carving and gilding will not hide their imperfections for ever.

Writing of events at Canton, Dr. Wells Williams says that "an almost total eclipse of the moon called out the entire population, each one carrying something with which to make a noise, kettles, pans, sticks, drums, gongs, guns, crackers and what not to frighten away the dragon of the sky from his hideous feast ... silence gradually resumed its sway as the moon recovered her fulness."[416]Dr. Williams does not say so, but the fact was that the townspeople were simply availing themselves of a recognised and legitimate opportunity to have what English schoolboys might call a "rag." If he had scrutinised the faces of the gong-beaters he would have observed that the prevailing feelings were those of mirth and good-humour, not of terror at the occurrence of a distressing celestial calamity. The stereotyped nature of the official ceremonies (in which every action is carefully prescribed) that take place during an eclipse, not to mention the fact that eclipses have for centuries been regularly foretold by the Court astronomers, ought to be sufficient to show that the noisy ceremonial is merely a rather interesting survival from an age of complete scientific ignorance and perhaps barbarism.

It seems very possible, indeed, that the eclipse-theory supposed to be generally held in China is not a traditional inheritance of the Chinese race but came to them in comparatively recent times from some less civilised neighbour, possibly an Indian or a central Asiatic race. It is hardly likely to have come from America; for even if the Fu-sang stories are not mere fairy-tales it is not probable that China can have borrowed her superstitions from so distant a source. If China was foolish enough to borrow the beast-theory from India, she may at least retort that it was borrowed by Europe too: for the same theory, with or without variations, has existed even on the Continent and in the British Isles.[417]

It is noteworthy that the oldest books extant in the Chinese language mention eclipses but give no hint of the beast-theory, and the philosopher Wang Ch'ung (first centuryA.D.), whose delight it was to demolish foolish superstitions, mentions several explanations (wise and foolish) of eclipses without directly or indirectly referring to that which we have been considering. He would certainly have referred to it if it had been known to him. Whatever may have been the date of their first observance, the official eclipse-rites (which are said to have been recently abolished by order of the Prince-Regent) continued to exist through the centuries simply because, partly from political motives, Chinese Governments have always been very reluctant to interfere with established customs. Much of the imperial ritual carried on at the present day in connection with the worship of Heaven and Earth is a pure matter of form so far as religious belief goes. If the Emperor gave up the grand ceremonials conducted annually at the Altar of Heaven it would doubtless be interpreted to mean that he had lost faith in his own divine right to rule and that the Manchu dynasty was about to abdicate the throne.

On the whole, then, we may conclude that in spite of appearances the Chinese do not, as a nation, hold that when the moon is passing through the earth's shadow it means that the moon is being devoured by a hungry dragon. That very many Chinese will profess belief in the dragon, if suddenly asked about the cause of an eclipse, is perfectly true. Somewhat similarly, many an Englishman, if suddenly asked what became of Red Riding Hood's grandmother, would probably reply without hesitation that the wretched old lady was eaten by a wicked wolf.

A missionary writer already quoted states that though the Chinese are gifted with a keen sense of humour, "when they come to deal with the question of spirits and ghosts and ogres they seem to lose their reasoning faculties, and to believe in the most outrageous things that a mind with an ordinary power of the perception of the ludicrous would shrink from admitting."[418]That the Chinese (like multitudes of Europeans) do believe in some outrageous and ridiculous things I am quite ready to admit, but it is necessary again to emphasise the undoubted fact that many Chinese (like multitudes of Europeans) seem to believe in a great deal more than they really do, and that what seems like active belief is often nothing more than a passive acquiescence in tradition. Let us remember that in China, as in our own Western lands, relics of early barbarism hold their own through ages of civilisation "by virtue of the traditional sanctity which belongs to survival from remote antiquity."[419]As time goes on and knowledge grows (especially among the mothers of the race) many of the unreasonable forms of traditional belief and many of the crude ideas which are accepted in China because traditional, though not really believed in, will gradually decay and disappear; arms and heads will fall off clay images and will not be replaced; temple-roofs will fall in and will not be repaired; annual processions and festivals will be kept up because they provide holidays for hard-working adults and are a source of delight to the children, but will gradually become more and more secular in character; while ghosts and devils will be relegated to the care of lovers of folk-lore or (perhaps with truer wisdom) submitted as subjects of serious study to a future Chinese society for psychical research.

It often happens that a writer on matters connected with religion in a "heathen" land will tell little stories intended to illustrate the unsatisfying nature of the "heathen" rites, thus leaving the inference to be drawn that what the unhappy "pagans" are unconsciously in want of is Christianity with its crystallised statements of truth. Such a little story is the following, told by a writer upon whose pages I have drawn more than once.[420]"'What have you gained to-day in your appeal to the goddess?' I asked of a man that I had seen very devout in his prayers. He looked at me with a quick and searching glance. 'You ask me what answer I have got to my petition to the goddess?' he said. 'Yes,' I replied, 'that is what I want to know from you.' 'Well, you have asked me more than I can tell you. The whole question of the idols is a profoundly mysterious one that no one can fathom. Whether they do or can help people is something I cannot tell. I worship them because my fathers did so before me, and if they were satisfied, so must I be. The whole thing is a mystery,' and he passed on with the look of a man who was puzzled with a problem that he could not solve, and that look is a permanent one on the face of the nation to-day."

Perhaps there are a good many Englishmen and Americans who on reading this instructive little dialogue may be tempted to sympathise not a little with the idol-worshipper. A profound mystery that no one can fathom! I worship them because my fathers did so before me! Are there not thousands and thousands of Western people who might in all sincerity use those very words? For in spite of everything that all the Churches and all the prophets and all the philosophers have done for us, in spite of all we have learned from dogmas and revelations and sacred books, we are still groping in darkness.The whole thing is a mystery, and the man who can solve it is wiser than any man who has yet lived. Yes, inevitably replies the Protestant missionary, but God can solve it: and he has done so, for to us He has revealed the Truth. Not to you, but to Me! cries the Holy Catholic Church. Not to you, but to us! cry the Anglican and the Baptist and the Unitarian and the Quaker and the Theist and the Swedenborgian and the Mormon and the Seventh Day Adventist and the Christian Scientist and the Plymouth Brother and the Theosophist. Not to you, but to us! cry the Jew and the Mohammedan and the Brahman and the Sikh and the Bábist and the Zoroastrian.

What is Truth?

The Castle of Religion is guarded by an ever-watchful band of armoured giants called Creeds and Dogmas. When a lonely knight-errant rides up to the castle gate eager to liberate the lady Truth who he knows lies somewhere within, he is met by the giant warders, who repel him with menaces and blows. "You seek Truth?" they exclaim. "You need go no further. We are Truth." Some think that if the giants were slain the lordly castle itself would fade like a dream. Why should it fade? More likely is it that nothing but their defeat and death can save the time-battered walls from crumbling to utter decay; that only then the drawbridge will fall and the darkened windows blaze into lines of festal light; that only by stepping across those huge prostrate forms shall we ever come face to face with the Lady of the Castle—no more a manacled captive, but free and ready to step forth, gloriously apparelled and radiant with beauty, to receive for the first time a world's homage. From the lips of Truth herself will the question of the jesting Pilate at last be answered.

FOOTNOTES:[401]See pp.183-4.[402]Tylor'sPrimitive Culture(4th ed.), vol. ii. p. 122.[403]For other examples of the "extraordinary survival of pagan fancies amidst Christian worship" see Gomme'sFolk-lore Relics of Early Village Life, pp. 138-44; and the works of Tylor, Frazer and other anthropologistspassim.[404]See Max Müller'sLectures on the Origin of Religion(1901 ed.), p. 312.[405]The Rev. T. Macgowan,Sidelights on Chinese Life, p. 83.[406]See above, pp.335seq.[407]1Corinthians, chap. xiv. 34-5.[408]Lectures on the Origin of Religion(1901 ed.), p. 106 Cf. also Farnell'sEvolution of Religion, pp. 41-8.[409]Lectures on the Origin of Religion(1901 ed.), p. 106.[410]Religion in China(1893 ed.), p. 169.[411]Op. cit.p. 14.[412]Tylor'sPrimitive Culture(4th ed.), vol. i. pp. 328seq.[413]See pp.21,24-5. To the Japanese Fu-sang is known asFusō.[414]SeeMémoire sur Fou-sang, by M. le Marquis d'Hervey de Saint-Denys. (Paris, 1876.)[415]Op. cit.p. 329.[416]The Middle Kingdom(1883 ed.), vol. i. p. 819.[417]Tylor,op. cit.vol. i. pp. 333-4. The superstition exists throughout Indo-China and the Malay Peninsula. See, for instance, Skeat'sMalay Magic, pp. 11-13.[418]Rev. J. Macgowan,op. cit.p. 67.[419]Tylor,op. cit.vol. ii. p. 167.[420]Rev. J. Macgowan,op. cit.pp. 92-3.

[401]See pp.183-4.

[402]Tylor'sPrimitive Culture(4th ed.), vol. ii. p. 122.

[403]For other examples of the "extraordinary survival of pagan fancies amidst Christian worship" see Gomme'sFolk-lore Relics of Early Village Life, pp. 138-44; and the works of Tylor, Frazer and other anthropologistspassim.

[404]See Max Müller'sLectures on the Origin of Religion(1901 ed.), p. 312.

[405]The Rev. T. Macgowan,Sidelights on Chinese Life, p. 83.

[406]See above, pp.335seq.

[407]1Corinthians, chap. xiv. 34-5.

[408]Lectures on the Origin of Religion(1901 ed.), p. 106 Cf. also Farnell'sEvolution of Religion, pp. 41-8.

[409]Lectures on the Origin of Religion(1901 ed.), p. 106.

[410]Religion in China(1893 ed.), p. 169.

[411]Op. cit.p. 14.

[412]Tylor'sPrimitive Culture(4th ed.), vol. i. pp. 328seq.

[413]See pp.21,24-5. To the Japanese Fu-sang is known asFusō.

[414]SeeMémoire sur Fou-sang, by M. le Marquis d'Hervey de Saint-Denys. (Paris, 1876.)

[415]Op. cit.p. 329.

[416]The Middle Kingdom(1883 ed.), vol. i. p. 819.

[417]Tylor,op. cit.vol. i. pp. 333-4. The superstition exists throughout Indo-China and the Malay Peninsula. See, for instance, Skeat'sMalay Magic, pp. 11-13.

[418]Rev. J. Macgowan,op. cit.p. 67.

[419]Tylor,op. cit.vol. ii. p. 167.

[420]Rev. J. Macgowan,op. cit.pp. 92-3.

The past history of Weihaiwei is not such as to justify very high expectations of a dazzling future. It has never tasted the sweets of commercial prosperity and perhaps it is hardly likely to do so in days to come. Its situation near the eastern extremity of Shantung is such that the ports of Chefoo and Tsingtao are almost inevitably bound to intercept the greater part of the trade that might otherwise reach it from west or south, while ocean-borne merchandise is not likely to find its way into the northern provinces of China through the gateway of Weihaiwei when there are ports, more favourably situated as distributing centres, a few scores of miles further westward. Weihaiwei has a valuable asset in its harbour, which is superior to that of Chefoo, though its superiority is hardly so great as to neutralise its several disadvantages. Yet the very unsuitability of the port for purposes of commerce tends to increase its potential value as a naval base—if, indeed, all naval bases do not become obsolete in the rapidly-approaching era of aerial warfare. The Chinese naval officer of the future may congratulate himself on the fact that here can arise no conflict of naval and mercantile interests, such as is bound to occur from time to time in ports like Hongkong. The deep-water anchorage of Weihaiwei is not large enough to accommodate a squadron of battleships aswell as a fleet of ocean liners, and if Weihaiwei were to develop into a great naval port it is difficult to see how in any circumstances it could show much hospitality to merchant shipping.

The naval authorities of China, therefore, would have it "all their own way" in one of the best harbours of north China. They could build forts, carry out big-gun practice in the neighbouring waters, land men and guns for martial exercises at all points along the coast, establish naval depôts and dockyards on the island and the mainland, all at a minimum of cost and without in any appreciable degree interfering with vested interests ashore. All this was recognised by the Chinese Government long ago, when Weihaiwei was, as a matter of fact, a military and naval station second only in importance to the Manchurian fortress of Port Arthur.

The conspicuous and not inglorious part played by Weihaiwei during the Sino-Japanese war of 1894-5 has already been mentioned. Many of the guns which, it was vainly hoped, would effectually protect the approaches to the eastern entrance to the harbour, are still lying amid the ruins of a chain of forts extending from the village of Hai-pu to that of Hsieh-chia-so. The fine military road that connected the forts is now in many places barely traceable, for its masonry has been carted away by unsentimental Chinese farmers for use in the construction of dwelling-houses, and here and there the road itself has actually been ploughed up and made to yield a scanty crop of sweet potatoes,—for even so does the prosaic spirit of agricultural enterprise avenge itself upon the pomps and vanities of wicked warfare. But forts can be reconstructed, heavier and more modern guns can be purchased, military roads can be rebuilt; and this is what doubtless will take place when China has decided to undertake the task of creating a fleet of warships and of re-establishing Weihaiwei as a naval base.

But, the bewildered reader may ask, where doesGreat Britain come in? Is not Weihaiwei a British Colony? If forts are to be built, will they not be British forts; if war-fleets are to ride at anchor in the harbour of Weihaiwei, will they not be British fleets? The answer to this is that the British Government had given up all idea of fortifying Weihaiwei even before the result of the Russo-Japanese war and the fall of Port Arthur had drawn attention to the merely temporary nature of the occupation of Weihaiwei. Moreover, Weihaiwei is not officially recognised as an integral portion of the King's "dominions beyond the seas"; it is occupied and administered by Great Britain, but its inhabitants—as we have already seen[421]—are not, with technical accuracy, to be described as British subjects. Weihaiwei has never been ceded to the British Crown, and when it is restored to China the British Crown will suffer no diminution of lustre, though doubtless unjustifiable murmurs will be heard concerning the damage to British prestige. As to when rendition is to take place, this is entirely a matter for international agreement; though it will be remembered that the date of the expiration of the original Russian lease of Port Arthur will not take place until March 1923.[422]

As the trade of Weihaiwei is (at least from the point of view of European mercantile interests) almost a negligible quantity, it may be said that the place is useful to Great Britain only as a summer resort for her warships stationed in Far Eastern seas: and it may be observed that as the port is totally unfortified the interests of the British Navy would hardly suffer if the whole of the mainland territory were unreservedly restored to China and only the island of Liukung and the right to use the waters of the harbour retained in British hands. An arrangement of this kind, however, would only be welcomed by China so long as she was without a navy of her own.

A question that is often asked by Western visitors to Weihaiwei is one that does not directly concern the Government either of China or of Great Britain. Are the people of Weihaiwei pleased with British rule? Would they be glad or sorry to pass once more under the yoke of Chinese administrators? That the people appreciate the benefits directly or indirectly conferred upon them by the British occupation there is no reason to doubt.[423]That trade—external and internal—is brisker, that the people are more prosperous, that money circulates more freely and more abundantly, that roads and other means of communication have been greatly improved—all these things are fully realised. But though the shopkeepers and contractors on the island and in Port Edward would undoubtedly vote—if they had the chance—for the perpetuation of present conditions, I have no doubt that if the matter were to be decided by a secret ballot among all the people of the Territory a very great preponderance of votes would be given for the resumption of Chinese rule.

It is perhaps unnecessary to cast about for reasons why this should be so. Many Europeans ridicule the notion that the Chinese possess the virtue of patriotism. Even if there be no patriotism (a very rash assumption after all) there is certainly a strong racial feeling in China: and when race and nation are one it may perhaps be plausibly argued that racial sentiment and patriotic sentiment come to be interchangeable terms. Granting that patriotism or some analogous sentiment does exist among the people of China, surely no Englishman need look further for a reasonable cause why the evacuation of Weihaiwei should be welcomed by the people.[424]The Chinese of Weihaiwei do not like to be ruled by foreigners any more than the average Englishman would care to see Spanish rule—let us say—established in the Isle of Wight, quite irrespective of the merits or demerits of the foreign rulers and their system of government.

Too much stress should not be laid on the alleged racial antipathy between White and Yellow, inasmuch as there is no strong basis for the too common view that the people of East and West are so differently constituted that they must always remain spiritually and intellectually sundered. What is often mistaken for a barrier of race is in many cases, I believe, merely a barrier of language. The number of men—Chinese or English—who can be said to have a scholarly knowledge of the two languages is still astonishingly small.[425]Yet there is unfortunately little doubt that the antagonism between Europe and Asia, whether thecauses be racial or merely political, is in some respects steadily growing stronger, and it is difficult to see how we can expect that antagonism to diminish solong as present political conditions subsist. Asiatics, rightly or wrongly, are acquiring the notion that European dominion in the East has been due not to any intrinsic superiority (biological, intellectual or moral) of the white races, but chiefly to temporary and (speaking unphilosophically) accidental circumstances that will soon cease to exist. One noble Asiatic nation has definitely and probably for ever freed herself from "the White Peril," and it is not unnatural that other nations in Asia should aspire to do the same.

"The real cause of unrest," it has been recently said,[426]"is not Indian at all, but Asiatic. The unrest is the most visible symptom of that resentment of prolonged European domination which is affecting the whole continent of Asia. For 300 years the tide of European dominion has flowed eastward, but the ebb has now set in. Liao-yang and Mukden, the driving back of the legions of the Tsar, gave it a stimulus far more potent than if Bengal had been administratively divided into forty pieces. It would probably have arisen even if Japan had still remained in chain-armour, and had never emerged from the control of her Tycoons and her Samurai. It became inevitable from the day that steam and quick transit broke down the barriers of India's isolation, and her yielding people began to cross the seas. It is part of a great world-movement, the end of which no man can foresee. No concessions, however sweeping, will conjure it. We have to reckon with its continued—and most natural—increase and growth, and to shape our course accordingly."

This is not very pleasant reading for English—or indeed for European—ears, but if the facts are as stated there is nothing to be gained by ignoring them.

Setting patriotism and racial prejudices aside, there are other reasons why British rule could never become really popular in Weihaiwei or in any part of China. With every wish to rule the people according to their own customs and their traditional systems of morality, it is not always possible to do so without a surrender of much that a European considers essential to good order and a proper administration of justice. The different views of East and West on a matter so fundamental as the rights and duties of individuals as compared with the rights and duties of the family or clan are alone sufficient to give rise to a popular belief that the foreign courts do not always dispense justice. Then the Chinese believe that our courts are much too severe on many offences that they consider venial, and not severe enough on offences such as burglary, piracy and armed robbery. They also detest our insistence, in certain circumstances, of thepost-mortemexamination of human bodies. Again, they totally fail to understand why men who have been charged with a crime and whose guilt in the eyes of the "plain man" is a certainty should sometimes get off scot-free on account of some technicality or legal quibble. If Englishmen are sometimes driven to think that "the law is an ass," we may be sure that the Chinese are, at times, even more strongly inclined to the same opinion.

If one were to ask a native of Weihaiwei what were the characteristics of British rule that he most appreciated one would perhaps expect him to emphasise the comparative freedom from petty extortion and tyranny, the obvious endeavour (not always successful) to dispense even-handed justice, the facilities for trade, the improvement of means of communication. It was not an answer of this kind, however, that I received from an intelligent and plain-spoken resident to whom I put this very question. "What is it we like best in our British rulers? I will tell you," he said. "Our native roads are narrow pathways, and very often there is no room for two personsto pass unless one yields the road to the other. When our last rulers—the Japanese—met our small-footed women hobbling along such a path they never stepped aside to let the women pass, but compelled them to clamber along the stony hillside or to stand in a ditch. An Englishman, on the contrary, whether mounted or on foot, always leaves the road to the woman. He will walk deliberately into a deep snowdrift rather than let a Chinese woman step off the dry pathway. We have come to understand that the men of your honourable country all act in the same way, and this is what we like about Englishmen."

TWO BRITISH RULERS ON THE MARCH, WITH MULE-LITTER AND HORSE(see p.434).

A ROADSIDE SCENE(see p.196).

It may seem strange that a native should draw attention to a trivial matter of this kind rather than to some of the admirable features—as we regard them—of British administration, yet there is very little just cause for surprise. A year or two ago the correspondent of a great newspaper indulgently referred to Weihaiwei under British rule as affording a conspicuous example of the ability of individual Englishmen to control—without fuss or display of force—large masses of Orientals. Let it be granted that the English people, or rather some Englishmen, are endowed with the twin-instincts to rule with justice and integrity and to serve with industry and loyalty—for it is only the union of these two instincts or qualities in one personality that distinguishes the good administrator: but to regard Weihaiwei as an example of the English power of successfully ruling hordes of alien subjects shows a misapprehension of the facts. Englishmen, Irishmen and Scotsmen have carried out such splendid administrative work in other parts of the world that there is no need to give them credit for work which they have not done. What makes the people of Weihaiwei law-abiding, peaceful, industrious, punctual in the payment of taxes, honest in their dealings one with another is not some mysterious ruling faculty on the part of the three or four foreign administrators who are placed over them, but something that has existed inChina from a time when the ancestors of those administrators were painted savages and England was not even a name: it is filial piety, it is reverence for law and respect for those in authority, it is the cult of ancestors,—it is, in short, Confucianism. "The same readiness with which we serve our father," says one of the Chinese classics, "we should employ in serving our Ruler, and the reverence must be the same for both. To honour those who are in a high position and to respect those who are in authority is our first duty." Again, we are told that "Confucius said, the Ruler is served with observance ofhsiao[filial piety] and elders are served with such submission as is due from a younger brother to his elder brothers, which shows that the people should make no distinction."[427]

If the Weihaiwei Government deserves any commendation at all it is only for its acceptance of Confucian principles as the basis of administration. Confucianism, indeed, is the foundation of the civil law that is administered in the British Courts, Confucian customs are wherever possible upheld and enforced by the officials in their executive and judicial capacities, and it is by the recognition of Confucianism that the Government has been able to dismiss its armed force. Philostratus, about seventeen hundred years ago, wrote a book in which he tells us how Apollonius of Tyana was one day walking with his friend and disciple Damis when they met a small boy riding an enormous elephant. Damis expressed surprise at the ease and skill with which the youngster could control and guide so huge a beast; but Apollonius succeeded in convincing him that the credit was due not to the small boy's skill, but to the elephant's own docility and self-control. Should we be far wrong if we were to regard the people ofWeihaiwei as the elephant and the local Government as the little boy that rode it? Perhaps, indeed, the parallel might be applied to British dependencies greater and more important than Weihaiwei.

The people of this corner of China are so ill-acquainted with the politics of their country—for there is no local newspaper, and if there were it would have but few readers—that they possess but the haziest notion of the probable destiny of their port in the event of its rendition to China and the creation of a modern Chinese navy. But indeed even Europeans could hardly enlighten them as to the probabilities of the future of Weihaiwei unless they were furnished with some clue to the solution of a much vaster problem—the future of China herself.

It is most earnestly to be hoped for China's own sake that her rulers do not seriously intend, at present, to place naval expansion in the forefront of their numerous schemes for reform. The subject is one upon which a section of the native Press has become somewhat enthusiastic, and the recent visit to England of a Chinese Naval Commission, under the leadership of an Imperial prince, naturally leads one to suppose that the Government is actually about to undertake the exceedingly difficult, dangerous and most costly work of securing for China a place among the Naval Powers. Many of China's Western sympathisers—especially those who have not lived in the East—probably regard this as the best possible proof that China is "pulling herself together" and is already far advanced on the road of regeneration. But there is hardly a man among China's foreign friends and sympathisers resident in the East who does not regard the navy scheme with dismay and disappointment. At some future date the Chinese may be fully justified in acquiring a great navy, but to build a really serviceable modern fleet at the present time is to invite a financial and political disaster of appalling magnitude. Even if the project comes tonothing it is a bad omen for the future that the Chinese Government should give it serious consideration at a time when all the energies and resources of the Empire should be devoted to internal reform and development. If China's responsible rulers do not realise the precarious position into which the country has drifted and the pressing necessity of administrative reform, they are not fit to hold the helm of the State. Common sense—if they are devoid of the higher qualities of statesmanship—should tell them that until the existing departments of Government have been thoroughly reorganised, corruption stamped out, and a spirit of loyalty and patriotism infused into all ranks of the Civil Service, the creation of a great spending department, such as an Admiralty or Naval Board, will merely add enormously to the financial burdens of the country without providing it with any reliable safeguard or protection in the event of war.

The unfortunate thing is that every warning of this kind received by China from her foreign friends is received by her with doubt and suspicion. She has realised that in one foreign war after another her military and naval weakness has led her—or has helped to lead her—through the dark shadows of defeat and humiliation, and she is intensely desirous of making such provision for her own protection that in future foreign wars she may not be foredoomed to disaster. When she is advised to content herself, for the present, with a small though well-equipped army and the most modest of coast-defence fleets, she suspects that her advisers wish to keep her in a state of perpetual weakness, so that they may continue to help themselves, from time to time, to treaty-ports, trade privileges, sites for churches and other missionary buildings, mining and railway concessions and cash-indemnities. At the present time the Power which she regards with a more friendly eye than any other is undoubtedly the United States of America—the only Great Power that has occupied none of herterritory and the one against which she believes herself to have least reason for complaint. A few years ago many Western dwellers in China were inclined to predict that a powerful offensive and defensive alliance would be entered into by China and Japan, or that Japan would assume the hegemony of the Far East and having created a reformed China would draw upon the immense resources of that country to help her in establishing the supremacy of the Yellow Race in the Eastern hemisphere. One does not often hear this view expressed to-day, not only because of the repeated occurrence of serious disputes between the Chinese and Japanese Governments with reference to Manchurian and other problems, but also because it is now seen that the growth of a really strong and progressive China cannot be regarded without grave alarm by the far-seeing statesmen of Japan. The whole of the Japanese Empire, be it remembered, might be packed into one of China's provinces; the population of Japan is only about one-tenth that of China, and her natural resources are meagre compared with those of her huge neighbour. If the development of China proceeds on the same proportionate scale as that of Japan (and the Japanese themselves realise that this is no impossibility), it is difficult to see how Japan can reasonably hope to maintain her present international position.

We have heard a great deal lately about the momentous change in the European balance of power caused by the great advance of Germany in population and wealth: let us give a loose rein to our imaginations and suppose that the German Empire by skilful diplomacy or other means has further succeeded in annexing Austria, Denmark, Belgium and Holland, and by successful warfare has reduced France, Italy and Russia to a state of military imbecility. The position of Great Britain in these circumstances would, to say the least, be precarious and unenviable. If she did not become the "conscript appanage" ofa "stronger Power" (to use the warning words of a British Cabinet Minister) she would at least be in a state of chronic peril, and subject to periodical panics that might end in the disorganisation of all industry and the demoralisation of the people. England's position as opposed to that of a vastly-magnified Germany would be similar in many ways to that which Japan would occupy relatively to a reformed, united and progressive China. Indeed, Japan would be in a worse case than England: for England has beaten one Napoleon, and, by again championing the cause of the down-trodden states of a heterogeneous Europe, she might conceivably beat another; whereas Japan would perhaps find herself faced not by a single powerful tyrant, under whose dominion vassal states writhed and groaned, but by a vast homogeneous people who through careful discipline and wise statesmanship had learned to sink provincial rivalries in a splendid realisation of racial solidarity and national patriotism.

Thus we need not be surprised if during the years of China's education and growth Japanese diplomacy in respect of Chinese affairs is to some extent characterised by petulance, hesitation, vacillation, and occasional displays of "bluff."[428]The policy of Japan must necessarily hover between two extremes: she does not wish to see China partitioned, for this would mean a strengthening of European influence in Asia which might be disastrous to Japanese interests; nor does she wish to see China become one of the Great Powers of the world, for this would inevitably lead to her own partial eclipse. China is now well aware of the delicate position of the Japanese Foreign Office, and it is on the whole improbable that she will readily consent to a Japanese alliance, even if she finds herselfseriously menaced by the armed strength of Europe—happily a most unlikely event. She knows that the differences of opinion between Japan and the United States are not yet a forgotten chapter in international politics,[429]and this fact, perhaps, will make her all the readier to throw herself into the arms of the great American Republic. It is well to remember, however, that racial and industrial rivalries between China and America may some day become dangerously acute. Even now, while such rivalries loom no larger in the political firmament than a man's hand, there are whispers of storms to come. Meanwhile, China is beginning to realise that the most wide-awake of modern states does not propose to hamper her own freedom by watching over a nation that has hitherto been regarded as the most somnolent in the world. Even the strong matronly arms of the United States might grow weary of carrying about so bulky an infant as a China that only woke up in order to experience the luxurious delight of going to sleep again. The Chinese dimly understand that until they have raised themselves out of their present condition of political helplessness they cannot expect to get more from the United States or from any other Great Power than amiable professions of goodwill.

Back to Index Next