Some of Liberty's recent dresses. The Grecian Costume.Some of Liberty's recent dresses. The Grecian Costume.
Some of Liberty's recent dresses. The Grecian Costume.
Some of Liberty's recent dresses. The Juliet.Some of Liberty's recent dresses. The Juliet.
Some of Liberty's recent dresses. The Juliet.
Believing as I do that the cycle of womanhas dawned, and that through her humanity will reach a higher and nobler civilization than the world has yet known, I feel the most profound interest in all that affects her health, comfort, and happiness; for as I have before observed, her exaltation means the elevation of the race. A broader liberty and more liberal meed of justice for her mean a higher civilization, and the solution of weighty and fundamental problems which will never be equitably adjusted until we have brought into political and social life more of the splendid spirit of altruism, which is one of her most conspicuous characteristics. I believe that morality, education, practical reform, and enduring progress wait upon her complete emancipation from the bondage of fashion, prejudice, superstition, and conservatism.
BY REV. CARLOS MARTYN, D. D.
The monarchial conception is that a few are born booted and spurred to ride, and that the many are born saddled and bridled to be ridden. The republican theory is that "Everybody is cleverer than anybody," to quote the epigram attributed to Talleyrand; and that government, in Lincoln's phrase, should be "of the people, by the people, and for the people."
The United States is the only nation in history which has dared to base itself upon an absolute trust in the people.
There have been republics (so-called)ad infinitumandad nauseam. "Greece," cries one of the foremost of our orators, "had her republics, but they were the republics of one freeman and ten slaves; and the battle of Marathon was fought by slaves unchained from the doorposts of their master's houses. Italy had her republics; they were the republics of wealth and skill and family, limited and aristocratic. Holland had her republic, the republic of guilds and landholders, trusting the helm of state to property and education. The Swiss republics were groups of cousins. And all these which, at their best, held but a million or two within their narrow limits, have gone down in the ocean of time."
The Spanish-American Republics are nondescripts. They owe their existence topronunciamientos. They are the puppets of successful soldiers, and are administered by generals who follow one another like the ghosts that walked in the vision of "Richard Third," and do not hold office long enough to be photographed. They are based on mongrel races, steeped in ignorance, cramped by superstition, and physically rotten before they get ripe.
Our fathers built a commonwealth on the foundation of manhood. They recognized no other qualification, save for a period of inconsistency,color; which, happily, is now wiped out of the fundamental law, though not entirely out of popular prejudice.
The faith in the people which Jefferson, Sam Adams, and the men of '76 cherished as the distinctive tenet of their political creed, has been justified by results. Their gigantic creation launches into the second decade of its second century, belted with power, aggrandized withEl Dorados, the amazement of the world, the "Arabian Nights" translated into every-day reality.
Unfortunately, however, in the face of this unprecedented record of prosperity, certain un-republican tendencies begin to exhibit themselves among us. These may well give thoughtful patriots startled concern.
Half a century ago, before time had been annihilated by the telegraph, and distance abolished by steam, nations were comparatively isolated; and the American most of all. Europe was three thousand miles away. Now-a-days, the old world is next-door neighbor to the new. Saint John's apocalyptic vision is realized; there is "no more sea." It is bridged by steamers, and flashed out of existence by the electric cable. What is the consequence? The consequence is that while Europe borrows many of our ideas, America borrows more of hers. With the increase of travel, the growth of wealth, the enlargement of our leisurely class, there is an aping of English and German habits of thought and modes of life which are utterly repugnant to republican institutions. While Europe should seem to be almost ready to discard baby-house distinctions and the embroidered rags of aristocracy, America, strange to say, appears willing to put on and wear the disreputable finery. We are becoming disagreeably familiar with what Mr. Gladstone characterizes in an inspired phrase, as theclassesin contrast with themasses.
This interchange of national customs comes inevitably from the facilitated intercourse of our day, from the intimacy begotten by inter-marriage, by commerce, by travel. But it is sad if we are to borrow more than we lend, and if the balance of trade is to be perpetually against us. We must find or invent a remedy if republicanism is to survive. The widespread alarm felt among our humbler citizens shows how real the danger is. Take, for instance, the growing distrust of universal suffrage manifested by our cultivated classes. Certain journals, the organs of wealth and monopoly; social-science conventions, composed of pert specialists poisoned by caste feeling; even pulpits, which should bethe guardians and exponents of democracy,—cautiously, tentatively, but as positively as they dare, discuss the propriety of restraining the ballot, and sigh for a property or an educational qualification.
Now, if there be one feature of American republicanism which is supremely characteristic, it is universal suffrage. This interpenetrates our political system as veins run through a block of marble. The patriots and sages who framed our Constitution grouted it with this principle. They believed and declared that it was safe to trust men with self-government. They recognized, of course, the fact that in every community there would be an element of ignorance and inefficiency. But by putting the ballot in every hand they deliberately took bonds of wealth and culture to enlighten this ignorance and train this inefficiency. They enlisted the self-interest of the Commonwealth on the side of popular education. They said, practically, to the well-to-do and to those who had interests at stake: See to it, if you would save your possessions, that you share them with the poorest and the lowest, at least to the extent of lifting them to the level of self-control and self-respect. In fact, this is the meaning of our free schools, of trial by jury, and of the ballot-box. Tocqueville, whose insight into republican institutions was marvellous, distinctly traces our prosperity, in his survey of American democracy, to universal suffrage, with all that it necessitates. So on the other side of the water, when, in 1867, Parliament doubled the English franchise, Robert Lowe leaped to his feet and cried, amid the cheers of the House of Commons: "Nowthe first interest and duty of every Englishman is to educate the masses." Previously, if the Court of St. James stooped to put intelligence on one side and morality on the other side of the cradle rocked by poverty and vice, it was pity that dictated the gracious act. Now it is self-preservation. Who does not know how much stronger self-interest is than pity as a motive? Who cannot see the far-sighted wisdom of our fathers in thus ingrafting this powerful motive upon the fundamental law?
Moreover, universal suffrage is educational in itself. Responsibility educates. Nothing else does. By throwing the responsibility upon the people they are necessarily lifted, sobered, broadened. Our women do not vote. What is the result? Not one woman in a thousand has any interest in,and not one in two thousand has any acquaintance with, political affairs. Their ignorance would be laughable were it not sad. Every father, husband, brother, can testify to the impenetrable ignorance of his feminine belongings concerning matters of public moment. It forms the topic of universal comment in male circles. It is not because women are naturally incapable. It is because having no responsibility they naturally have no interest. Why should a woman inform herself of what does not concern her? Occasionally, some woman, exceptionally placed, or born with a genius for politics, studies and masters state-craft. But exceptions do not invalidate, they prove rules. Women, like men, cannot be expected to take any intelligent interest in affairs that lie outside of their life.
Our men, on the contrary, are politicians down to the infant in the cradle. A boy baby cries, "Mr. Chairman!" as soon as he can talk, and calls the next crib to order. Men know that the maturing of politics, the selection of administrations, the distribution of offices, the adjustment of taxes, are their function. This knowledge whets the edge of interest. The significant fact is that it is not the people who are indifferent to politics. This indifference is found among merchants who are too busy making money to attend to the public weal; among scholars buried alive in their books, with no interest in any question that is not musty; among men of leisure, aping old world aristocracy, and out of touch with democracy; among those whosaythat all men are equal and are afraid theywillbe,—never among the people.
The plainer men are the greater is their political interest. Our naturalized citizens, shut out in their native land from all participation in government, and hence appreciating citizenship here, are among the most alert. These are they who crowd the halls during the recurring canvasses, and who are always early at the polls. And is it possible to overrate the instruction they get at meetings where they hear great questions discussed by master minds, when issues are torn open and riddled with light? Thus universal suffrage is itself a normal school, the people's college.
It is often said that, judged by its power to govern great cities, universal suffrage is a failure. This is true. The failure, however, is due to local causes. It does not come from the inherent incapacity of the masses, but is the spawnof accidental and removable evils. Chief among these is the corner grog-shop. This is the blazing lighthouse of hell. Here it is that morals and manners are debauched. It is over this counter that what an old poet calls "liquid damnation" is dealt out. If thequid-nuncs, instead of railing at universal suffrage, would combine to help shut that door, republicanism would speedily lose its reproach. The constituency of the grog seller is the ready made tool of the demagogue. A true democracy can only exist on the basis of sobriety. A drunken people cannot be trusted with the dearest rights and most vital possessions of freemen. Better the merciless tyranny of the Czar, or the military despotism of the Kaiser, far better the class rule of England, than the staggering, hiccoughing, bedevilled government of the groggery!
Aside from the great centres of population, the common people are more trustworthy than the corporations, the colleges, or the newspapers. The selfishness, the preoccupation, the anti-republicanism of these, are proverbial. We know that editors are echoes, not leaders, printing what will sell, not what is true. Landor declared that there is a spice of the scoundrel in most literary men. Everybody understands that a corporation's gospel is a good fat dividend. Who would exchange universal suffrage for college suffrage, or corporation suffrage, or newspaper suffrage?
Our danger to-day does not lie in universal suffrage. It lies in the steady encroachments of wealth, in the multiplication of monopolies, in the too rapid growth of fungus millionnaires, in the increasing number of well educated idlers, in the sinister prominence of the saloon in politics, in the tendency of the country to submit to bureaucracy, in the transformation of the national Senate into a club of rich men, housed and fed at the national expense, in the change of the House of Representatives into a huddle of clerks to register the decrees of greedy capital, in the chronic distrust of the people felt among book-educated and professional men; in one word, in the appalling gravitation towards government by "boodle" in the hands of unscrupulous minorities.
The only hope of deliverance lies in the people,—in their honesty, fair play, and decision, No; it is not universal suffrage that has brought disgrace on the country. If the rancor of party spirit, if the dry-rot of legislative corruption,if the tyranny of incorporated wealth, if the diabolism of intemperance are to be curbed, it is universal suffrage which must hold the reins. Talk of taking the ballot out of the hand of the poor citizen! As well fling the revolver out of window when the burglar is in the house. One of the keenest critics of American life has said: "Corruption does not so much rot the masses; it poisons Congress. Credit mobilier and money rings are not housed under thatched roofs; they flaunt at the capital." The real scum is the so-called better class. If anybody is to be deprived of a vote, it should be the railroad king, the mill owner, the indifferent trader, and the Europeanized Yankee who spends abroad what his father earned at home, and mistakes Paris for Paradise.
As another illustration of the un-republican trend, observe the obsequious attitude of our government towards monarchs and monarchies. We are to-day cheek by jowl with the despots of Europe. Instead of being the torch bearer of freedom we occupy a position of apology for what we are and of gaping admiration for what they are. When an opportunity offered the other day to recognize the new Republic of Brazil, the toadies at Washington equivocated and postponed. One would suppose that the disappearance of the last monarchy from the new world would have been greeted in the great Republic with the ringing of bells and the blaze of bonfires—would have been answered by a regular Fourth of July outburst. Bless you, no! The Czar was displeased. The Emperor of Germany was in the sulks. Queen Victoria put on mourning. Why should the Dons at Washington be out of fashion?
On the other hand, when Carlos I. was crowned at Lisbon last December, the American Squadron of Evolution was in the harbor, and behold! the officers of the Republic's war-ships paraded side by side with the other flunkies of royalty in honor of the coronation—thus showing that they belonged to the Squadron of Reaction. For so misrepresenting their country they ought to be cashiered. Republicans refusing to recognize a new republic, but hastening to recognize a new king! What a spectacle! Spirits of Otis and Franklin, of Jefferson and Hamilton, what think ye of such democracy as this?
No one would have the United States play the role of a bully, or enact the demagogue. But surely there is a mediumbetween that and the despicable inconsistency of unfriendliness towards those of our own political faith, and of lackey serviceableness towards a crowned head. Kings do not hesitate to discourage republicanism everywhere. A republic should not hesitate to encourage it anywhere. Self-respect in such a matter would win the respect of the world by deserving it. But when Americans sell their daughters to European profligates for a title, and pay millions to boot; when republicans in profession become tuft-hunters in practice, and haunt the back stairs of palaces; when the United States government, the eldest born and guardian of democracy, decredits its own political creed and parades in royal processions,—is it not time to cry a halt?
We need in this country a revival of republicanism. There is a tendency to flunkeyism at the bottom of human nature. Most men "dearly love a lord," as Burns affirmed. Hence, a full-fledged aristocrat attracts flunkies as a magnet draws iron filings. Lucian tells of an exhibition in Rome in which monkeys had been trained to play a human part; which they did perfectly, before the beauty and fashion of the city—until a wag, in the midst of the performance, flung a handful of nuts upon the stage, and straightway the actors were monkeys again. Some of our republicans are monkeys in human attire. They get on well enough until the nuts of class distinction are flung among them,—then they are on all fours.
Let us make democracy the fashion. Send devitalized Americans to Coventry. Make an unrepublican word or deed the unpardonable political sin. Do this: or else ship the statue of Liberty Enlightening the World back to France, and ask her to set it in the harbor of Marseilles.
Another of these un-republican tendencies is the current movement for civil service reform. Every thoughtful citizen perceives and laments the evils attendant on the present spoils system. It is the quartering of the conquerors upon the conquered. It makes public office the reward of party service. It loads half a dozen men (the President and his Secretaries) with the responsible but impossible duty of filling hundreds of thousands of offices, on the grab-bag principle.
With the best intentions, the civil service reformers would make a bad matter worse. On their plan, the un-American method of fixed tenure by competitive examination andappointment by irresponsible cabals would replace the method of political appointment for party service. Thus they would fasten upon the country a great army of permanent officials. It is out of harmony with our whole system. Every other officer is elected, and for a specified term. Why, even in the ministry, the tendency is to break up the life-pastorate. The largest of our religious denominations has deliberately adopted the principle of rotation. And the other bodies, while nominally retaining the life theory, have practically borrowed the Methodist plan.
No wonder civil service reform is unpopular. It goes to work at the wrong end—works away from instead of towards republicanism. In England, in Germany, where families reign, and where governmental servants might consistently hold office for life, such a system has a warrant—though even there it is found to be obstructive and reactionary. But in a republic, where universal suffrage is the law, nothing more intolerable could be conceived. The idea of creating a class distinct from all other classes, independent of the administration and unaccountable to the voters, fixed and immovable save for causes proven—why, it is, not astep, it is astridetowards absolutism. Such a proposition, like "Hamlet's" case,
"——makes us rather bear those ills we have,Than fly to others that we know not of."
"——makes us rather bear those ills we have,Than fly to others that we know not of."
That the civil service needs reform goes without the saying. But the reform should be pushed along consistently republican lines. The proper, the democratic method would be a further and broader application of universal suffrage. Makeallthe offices elective.
Instead ofappointingCustom-House officials and postmasters,electthem. Put the responsibility where it belongs upon the respective communities they serve. Then, men that are locally known and respected would be selected. If the people are capable of electing their own presidents, governors, representatives and judges, surely they might be trusted to elect Custom-House officers and postmasters! Otherwise, our republicanism is a humbug. This would abolish the Washington grab-bag. It would also avoid the creation of a class of life-officials than which nothing could be more dangerous and unsavory.
If our fathers, with no precedents on the file, could announce their sublime faith that all men are endowed by their Creator with the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; if they could discard the probate-court idea, and adopt universal suffrage; if, in spite of inconsistencies and imperfections, their conception has flowered in the best, and happiest, and most prosperous nation on the globe,—cannot their children show a faith as serene, a courage as brave? One thing is certain, the European experiment has failed, while ours is a miracle of success—and most successful when most consistently worked out. In such circumstances, shall we exchange this for that, and go back from the nineteenth century to the fourteenth?
When Hume derided his mother's faith, and exhorted her to get rid of her Christian prejudices, she answered: "My son, can you show me anything better?"
Kuma Oishi (signed "Cordially yours, Kuma Oishi")
BY KUMA OISHI, A. M.
All students of history are aware that the revolution of 1688 succeeded in consolidating constitutional government in England; that, though toward the middle of the last century it had not yet assumed its present admirable aspect, the English idea of political liberty and religious toleration attracted the attention of Montesquieu and Voltaire, who introduced it to their country; and that, since then, accelerated by the establishment of the federal government in America, and the triumph of the revolutionary principle in France, the theory has spread over the continent with astonishing rapidity.
Now that constitutional government is established in Japan, will she not exercise the same influence over the Asiatic continent as that which England has exercised over the European? To this, three great objections may be raised. I. The pervading conservatism of Asia. II. The prevailing ignorance among the Asiatic nations. III. The doubtfulness as to their adaptability to the representative form of government. We shall try to answer these objections in the above order.
I. If it be argued that the Asiatic people are conspicuously characterized by the conservative spirit, that they seem well satisfied with their present social and political organizations, such as they are, it must be remembered at the same time, that this was also the appearance which the French people presented, before their attention was called to the political superiority of England. "In general," says Lecky, "there runs through the great French literature of the seventeenth century a profound content with the existing order in Church and State, an entire absence of the spirit of disquiet, scepticism, and innovation that leads to organic change."[7]
That the conservative spirit and the seeming contentment of some of the Asiatic nations are not in themselves forcesstrong enough, when the time comes, to dispel the charm, as it were, possessed by the theory of representative government, that in short, conservatism is no match for "progress," as such a movement is popularly called, can be illustrated by the history, not of the European nations alone, but of some Asiatic nations themselves. To the general conservative tendency of Asia, Japan was no exception until about twenty-five years ago. No rational being would have then believed that in the course of a few years, Japan would become one of the most progressive nations on the face of the earth. The revolution of 1867, from which the birth of New Japan is dated, was originally a dispute between the Mikado and the Shogun for thede factosovereignty, and not the struggle of the lower classes to rise to political eminence. The tottering dynasty of the Shoguns came to an end, not because they were tyrannical, not because the people felt the special need of social amelioration, but because they saw that the Shogunate had been the instrumentality of usurping the imperial authority, while the nominal Emperor was shut up in his palace, and closely watched by the agents of the Shogun. In Japan loyalty and patriotism meant one and the same thing; therefore the people could not long tolerate this state of affairs. They needed only an occasion to deprive the Shogun of his political power, and to restore it to the Emperor. At last the occasion came. The demand of the Western nations to open certain seaports of the country, accompanied by the threats of armed force, compelled the Shogun to yield. But this step proved fatal to him. If the people were opposed to the Shogun's usurpation, they were still more opposed to his new policy, simply because it was new. They were blind to the innumerable advantages that could be derived from international commerce and communication. As a hermit nation, the people looked down upon the foreigners with mingled distrust and disdain. Knowing nothing of the Western civilization they were determined that no "savage strangers" should step upon the "sacred land of gods." To them the admission of the foreigners signified nothing less than unprecedented disgrace and possibly more—a prey to the ambition and treachery of the "foreign devils." The conservative spirit of the people carried them to a pitch of excitement as high as the exactly opposite principle carried the French people duringthe revolution. The Emperor became doubly dear to them, because he was a sovereignde jure, and because he was opposed to the new policy. Thus the revolution which followed owes its triumph to the conservatism of the people. Even with their zealous attachment to the Emperor, and their deep hatred of the Shogun, it is an open question whether events would have taken the same course, if the Mikado had advocated and the Shogun opposed the new policy, so strong was prejudice of the people. No more unfavorable condition and time could have been chosen for the introduction of the European civilization. However, in spite of their abhorrence of the Western people, the Western ideas and customs, in spite of all their efforts to shut them out, the appearance of some formidable men-of-war, floating the flags of different nations, compelled Japan to enter into the terms of treaty with them. Twenty years have passed since then, and within that short period, the nation has undergone a marvellous transformation under the magic touch of progress. It would be telling an old story to enumerate the series of innovations that have been written socially and politically, until the promulgation of the new constitution, in which culminated the national pride of the people. The matter to be noted here is that the European civilization encountered but a few obstacles, notwithstanding its inopportune introduction, and was soon adopted with determined zeal. The like progressive phenomenon on a smaller scale is also recurring in Korea, but of this later.
II. Having thus seen from well known historical examples in Europe and Asia that the conservatism is not in itself a force strong enough to resist progress, which leads to the establishment of constitutional government, let us proceed to meet the second objection, namely: the prevailing ignorance among the Asiatic nations. Here the nature of our inquiry involves three distinct topics. 1. Was the general intelligence of the Japanese people, before they came into contact with the Western civilization, higher than that of the other Asiatic nations? 2. Is there not a peculiar characteristic among the Japanese which impels them to progress? 3. Consequent upon the exposition of these two topics, investigation must also be made as to why the Chinese Empire does not show a similar progressive tendency.
1. Besides being the most dangerous enemy of representative government after its establishment, ignorance ismost hostile to its establishment.Prima facie, people must possess a certain degree of capacity, mental and moral, to understand what civilization is and what representative government is. The Batta of Sumatra may have their own alphabet, and the Fans of the West Coast may excel in iron work,[8]but even these fall short of the pre-requisites, not intellectually only, but morally also. We cannot conceive of them, seated around a camp-fire, discussing the merits of two chambers system, or defining the rights and duties of a citizen, while their vile lips are stained with the blood of their fellow-man, whose flesh they have just devoured. Not to expatiate further on this self-evident fact, it is certain that the Japanese people were sufficiently intelligent to understand and appreciate the Western ideas, when they were thrust to their notice. Certain, too, that in some branches of æsthetic art, they were somewhat superior to the neighboring nations. But beyond this, thirty years ago, a careful observer could have detected in the Japanese people no conspicuous intellectual attainment, except, of course, such points of dissimilarity as exist between any two nations equally civilized. Japan, Korea, and China had the same system of education and the same "classics," and each was composed of followers of Confucius and believers in Buddhism. True, Japan was then under the feudal system, and China and Korea were and still are under monarchy, but in point of absolutism, their governments were all alike. The greater differentiations were the facts that the Japanese had their own system of religious belief besides, called Shintoism, that the Japanese and the Koreans each had, in addition to the Chinese characters, their own syllables, and that the styles of their dress were different in no small degree. But the former, being a belief, principally concerned with the hereafter, has no more connection than the latter two with the subject of our inquiry, which relates to the intellectual phases of these people only in so far as they influence their political ideas.
2. Nor can we find any peculiar characteristic in the Japanese people, to which we may ascribe their progressive tendency. The only predominant characteristic that we know is their imitative power. This they have remarkably exhibited in their adoption of the Chinese civilization,which they modified and made their own, and more remarkably in their recent adoption of the Western civilization. Let us examine what relation this bears to the conservative and the progressive spirit of the people. Mr. Herbert Spencer attributes two motives to imitation, either reverential or competitive.[9]It is with the latter that we are concerned. This, coming as it does from a desire of an imitator to assert his equality with the one imitated, implies the recognition of superiority of the latter, and the acknowledgment of inferiority of the former. Conservatism, in the sense we have been using the term, defies any recognition and acknowledgment of this sort; therefore it defies imitation. In other words, a man does not imitate what he dislikes or scorns, and since conservatism is aversion to, or contempt for, say a new political institution, the imitative trait has no part to play, while that aversion or contempt continues. Evidently, then, the imitative power of the Japanese was not the force which served to make the conservative people progressive; only when conservatism gives way, and admiration for what is new is awakened, can this power assume its full activity.
Were we to admit for the sake of argument that the Japanese people were far superior in intelligence to the other people of Asia, or that they possessed a peculiar characteristic which impelled them to the adoption of the Western civilization, or even both, our position will not be altered, for the progressive idea of Japan has already reached across the sea to the continent of Asia, giving rise to an event in Korea. In December, 1884, the two political factions of that country, one of which was liberal and the other conservative, respectively, representing the Japanese and the Chinese principles, disputed for supremacy. The positive and negative currents, as of electricity, met at the peninsula, and produced a spark of revolution.[10]
Although, unfortunately for Korea, the liberals were vanquished, and its chief leaders were banished from their native country, the significance of the phenomenon does not lose its weight on that account. The tidal wave of progress, once repulsed, is not likely to subside forever. Meantime, it is worth while to notice, that even under the undisputed administration of the victorious conservatives, the nation could not remain aloof from the rest of the world. Besides entering into treaties with some western and eastern nations, Korea is availing herself of the services of European abilities, for the purpose of internal improvement.
3. "But," some one may ask, "if the establishment of constitutional government in Japan is due principally to the inherent excellence of the institution itself, and not to the superior intelligence of the Japanese people, nor yet to their peculiar characteristic, how can the non-progressive tendency of China be accounted for?" The vast extent of her dominion,[11]the immense number of her population,[12]and her almost inexhaustible national resources, all combine to make the question in regard to her future policy a momentous one. With the best form of government, and under the guidance of an able statesman, it is within her power to promote the advancement of whole Asia, and mould the destiny of the world. Yet, to all practical intents and purposes, she is evidently indifferent to the possibility of such a noble mission. Nay, more; she ignores it. She reminds us of an opium smoker. The world is awake, but she reposes in profound slumber, and little does she care what others are doing. The doctrine ofLaissez-Faireis the sinew of her policy toward the European states. She lets them alone so long as they let her alone, leaving them to wonder for what she was born. When some one comes and strikes her on the face, she stands up, still half asleep, slowly gathers whatever strength is in her, returns blow for blow, but the moment her enemy disappears torpidity again overtakes her, she relapses into dreamy indifference. Of what is this opium composed that she smokes?
I must not be understood to meanabsoluteirresistibility of constitutional government. Already I have touched upon one exception, viz: inadequate capacity, mental and moral,of people. Instead of excepting Japan from the pervading conservatism of Asia, I am inclined to make causes resisting or retarding the establishment of constitutional government in China exceptions to its irresistibility, side by side with ignorance. Such causes are, doubtless, multitudinous. Nevertheless, a careful observer will be able to single out two principal ones among many others: territorial and intellectual.
We have seen that the average intelligence of the Chinese people is not much inferior, if at all, to that of the Japanese, previous to the revolution. Even those Chinese who come to this country for manual labor, can read and write to some extent. Undoubtedly there is a large number of illiterate and brutal outcasts, who are a standing disgrace to humanity at large, but they can be found in every nation at present. The average intelligence of the middle class in China is, next to Japan, perhaps, the highest among the Asiatic nations. But the greatest evil from which Chinese intellect is suffering is its bombastic antiquarianism. This differs from conservatism, in that it is not the cautious distrust of new institutions for the improvement of the existing ones, but an effort to move backward, and to revive the ancient order of things, which crumbled into dust a thousand years before, from its inadaptability. The goal toward which modern civilization is striving, is the attainment of justice, the security of property and of the lives of individuals. The ideal society of the Chinese is one in which the simplicity of primitive tribes makes the administration of justice unnecessary, in which the possession of property and the protection of lives are unknown. Eulogies are lavished throughout their literature to the peaceful reigns of the primitive kings, when no one locked his house at night, or touched another's article which he happened to find on his way. To them antiquity is adorable instead of venerable. They consider themselves insignificant by the side of their godly ancestors. No doubt the doctrine of Confucius, which the Chinese people endeavor to carry out to a letter, has played a large part in producing this effect. Instead of unfolding the possibilities of the future, he recapitulated the virtues and achievements of the past. I am not attempting to depreciate the inestimable service, which his system of philosophy has rendered toward enhancing the standard ofrectitude among his disciples. But for him Asia might have sunk into the depths of moral chaos. This much at least must be said in justification of his doctrine, that evidently it was not his intention to reproduce an exact duplicate of the primitive Chinese civilization. "Let each day bring a new order of things," and "A sage's principles change as time," are among the precepts he enunciated. But these aphorisms, upon which the Anglo-Saxons would have laid a great stress, have been set at naught by his followers to the detriment of their own welfare.
This antiquarianism also existed in Japan, before the introduction of the European civilization, but here it had lacked much of its intensity, through its non-originality. The Japanese had no inventive pride, and it was with little reluctance that they abandoned their old theories which they borrowed from China, and adopted new civilization of the West. The Chinese cannot forget that whatever civilization they possess is their own, and that, at one time, theirs was the "Celestial Empire," which gave law, literature, and art to the neighboring nations. Every one knows that all the people still believe their civilization far superior to that of Europe. And since they do not care to compete with the civilization which they regard as inferior, they are striving to model themselves after the features of their own ancient civilization, which, for aught we know, might have been purer because younger, but which, existing in the less developed stage of society, must have been necessarily cruder. They are not aware that a society developed to any extent is a composite organism; that an originally simple cluster of people had grown into a complex community, through double methods, the multiplication of its own offsprings, and its union with another cluster or clusters of people.[13]This gradual growth of a society is followed by a corresponding diversity in the division of labor, thus making the social structure also complex.[14]Whatever else they can do, the Chinese will never realize their ideal of ancient simplicity, with their present complex social structure and system. A human society can either fall backward or progress forward, but it cannotprogress backward. In China the active movement for social and political ameliorationis restrained by the erroneous idea that they will aggravate evils and increase the distance between the present and the past. The unemployed energy of the nation, like an unemployed human muscle, is losing its vitality. Unable to go backward, unwilling to go forward, the nation is at standstill, and its civilization is stagnant with vices of the worst sort, the growth of which is checked by no iron hands of heroic reformers.
Another cause acting against the susceptibility of China to the European civilization is the vastness of her territory. The power of resistance being equal, a force requires longer time to travel larger distance, but when the power of resistance against the force of civilization is much stronger, as in the case of China, in comparison with Japan, the required length of time becomes still greater. The vast and thickly populated Empire of China naturally contains the various aggregates of people, with diverse inclinations and antagonistic interests, which makes their joint effort for any achievement extremely difficult, especially when the central authority is weak. The disadvantages are further multiplied by the difficulty of travelling and communication. On account of these hindrances, the Western civilization has not as yet time to permeate the whole Empire of China, and give the people an impetus for progressive movement. It may be well questioned whether "the fathers" could have succeeded in organizing the federal government, if the colonies were as large, and contained as great a population as the present United States. As it was, several States refused to enter into the confederation at first.[15]Taking into consideration her better facility for communication, and her proximity to the other European powers, perhaps Russia owes to the size of her territory, the successful maintenance of her absolute monarchy as much as China. But here the decisive battle is already impending. At this moment she is trembling with apprehension lest the palace of the Czar be at any moment levelled to its foundation by the terrible explosion of a nihilist's bomb. The more the employment of force is resorted to as the means of suppression, the greater the violence of resistance. It may take the Chinese people generations before they are seized withsuch political fanaticism, but judging from precedents, it is a rational probability that the absolute monarchy of China may yet become the object of furious attack by her now inert and abject populace, apparently in happy ignorance of the nature of sovereign authority, the free and unrestrained exercise of which they may learn to covet too soon.
Ignorance, antiquarianism, and large territory, then, are some principal causes which retard the march of progress. There remains only the third and last objection to be met—the adaptability of the Asiatic people to the representative form of government.
III. If two thousand years of Asiatic despotism has given her people one lesson, that lesson is obedience, and obedience is, according to John Stuart Mill, a quality essential to the people under constitutional government.[16]Not only they must be obeyed, but also they must obey. Law, which is constitutional, commands their obedience, so long as it is not repealed, whether it promotes, or is detrimental to, their welfare. This is especially the case in England, where parliament is supreme and not the constitution, as in the United States, though in both countriesvox populiwill tell in the end. On the other hand it may be disputed that if long despotism taught the Asiatic people to be subservient to public authorities, it also made them meek and slavish, entirely eradicating the spirit of independence, indispensable to self-governing people. Granted, but how shall this defect be remedied? Because they are too slavish and not sufficiently independent, are they to crawl under absolute despotism for another two thousand years, which would make them all the more slavish, and all the less independent? Slavishness is obedience plus something more. If political liberty were given the Asiatic people, when they had just learned to obey, slavishness would never have become their fault. The very fact of their being slavish proves that despotism should have ceased to exist long before, and should cease now, in order to cure them of this despicable disease. As far as this question is concerned, then, the slavishness of the Asiatic people, instead of being against their adaptability to constitutional government, is for it. In the words of Macaulay, "If men are to wait for liberty until theybecome wise and good in slavery, they may indeed wait forever."[17]
There may be a thousand other infirmities among these people, but most of them doubtless are, or were, found among the highly civilized people of to-day. Every nation can point with pride to some men of admirable achievement, of brilliant genius, of saintly virtues, but that same nation also contains the countless number of inebriates, robbers, and murderers. Differences in environments and in the stage of civilization have contributed much in differentiating the inhabitants of the globe, but we must bear in mind that they are all made by the same hand of the Creator, and are, in general, striving to do good according to the dictates of their conscience. What characterizes civilization is not so much the quality of goodness revealed, as its quantity. Between aborigines and highly advanced people, there exists a wide gulf, but that gulf becomes perceptibly narrower between the so-called semi-civilized and the civilized, much narrower than the word "semi" indicates with the force of scientific exactness. But behind all these arguments, there lays the most fundamental condition of the adaptability, namely: that the people should be desirous of establishing it. No other Asiatic nations beside Japan have expressed their desire to this end, either by words or by action, and therefore they are incapacitated.
This objection would be fatal, if we were advocating that the Asiatic people ought to have constitutional government. But we have not been. We have been arguing that since constitutional government has irresistible attraction to those who can understand what it is, and since it has already been established in Japan, the other Asiatic nations will begin to desire it, notwithstanding their seeming ignorance and conservatism; and because they are adapted for it in all the respects but one, the want of desire to establish it, when that desire is enkindled within their breasts, then a "great democratic revolution," which De Tocqueville said was going on in Europe,[18]and which is still going on there, will also go on in Asia. We may observe in passing, that Sir Henry Maine's arguments against the irresistibility of popular government[19]have no connection with our position,being directed against the ultra-democratic tendency of modern times which is beyond the scope of our present discussion.
But will this new institution of Japan possess permanency? Constitutional government has shown in many cases the lack of stability. In France and Spain especially it has been established and overthrown again and again.[20]CanTei Koku Gi Kai[21]prove itself above such frailty and stand for ages a majestic monument of the people capable of self-government? Or must it pass away in ignominy and gloom through its own weakness, or of the constitution, or of the people, or of all these combined? Hitherto we have been discussing the extrinsic significance of constitutional government in Japan, but this important question introduces us into the field of its intrinsic excellence. To answer the question we must examine the constitution itself in its details, besides tracing the steps which led to its promulgation. Perhaps a volume may be necessary for this most interesting and profitable study. At any rate, the space which we have already occupied renders a further discussion of the subject impossible for the present. But we cannot lay aside our pen without expressing our fondest anticipation, and most earnest desire, that guided by statesmen of genius, and supported by the prudent and patriotic people, this first institution ever founded on the Asiatic soil for the development of political liberty, may be crowned with brilliant success, not only for the sake of Japan, but for the sake of all Asia, whose myriad sons it is her noble duty, as well as privilege, to rescue from the yoke of ever-detestable bondage.
BY PROF. WILLIS BOUGHTON, OF OHIO STATE UNIVERSITY.
University extension is a movement intended to bring the people at large into closer communion with the college and the university. Though it had a lowly birth in England, it has become a great institution permanently wedded to Oxford and Cambridge. For some years the idea has been growing that our American colleges ought to be doing something in this same line. The world is full of students who are unable to attend the university; some are prevented by family ties, and some by business relations; but mature though they be, there are everywhere real students who are lamenting the fact that they seem forever shut out from the light of knowledge as it is shed abroad from our higher educational institutions. To such are added those young people who have been by circumstances early forced into industrial pursuits, but who are hungry after such training as will enable them to command better situations and better salaries. The success of the Chautauqua movement indicates how many there are that are bent upon improving themselves.
This Chautauqua movement is only an attempt to Americanize university extension. In various ways, however, it fails to perform the full function of the latter institution. While Chautauqua work is carefully planned, it is elementary; the student is left almost entirely to his own, often misdirected, efforts; and there is little or no chance of his coming into personal contact with the experienced educator and specialists. Though the circles have, through lack of direction, sometimes neglected education for entertainment, the organization as a whole has accomplished a wonderful work in the elevation and the instruction of great numbers of people.
University extension, on the other hand, profiting by the experience of Chautauqua, proposes not only to plan coursesof study, but to direct, supervise, and test the work of its students as well. In doing all this, it employs the lecturer, the syllabus, the class, the travelling library, and the examination. It has adopted methods whereby it can reach people of as varied occupations as those reached by Chautauqua, and it can thus furnish them with information having a positive educational value.
The lecturers are college-bred men or women, and specialists in different lines of educational work. If actively engaged in teaching at some reputable college or university, their chances of success are greater, and the character of their work is of a better grade. It promises well for the future of university extension to record that some of America's most popular and celebrated professors have added to their already heavy duties the burdens of some line of extension teaching. But all college professors are not adapted to this work. The successful extension lecturer must be of a versatile nature—a good lecturer, an earnest student, a practical teacher. It is his duty to interest a mixed, popular audience in an educational subject, and to inspire numbers of his hearers with a determination to enter upon a systematic and thorough course of study. The teacher who can do so must have within him the spirit of the reformer, and the earnestness that will enable him to arouse and to enthuse to action the numbers that are dying of lethargy and ennui. The teacher who can do this has here a field of labor extensive enough for the highest ambition, and may be repaid by a success grander than can be attained in the limited circle of the college or the university.
The work of the lecturer arranges itself into unit courses. The unit course consists of a series of six related lecturers, so arranged that they will cover a definite field of study. Though less comprehensive, the unit course may be compared to a course of study in a college curriculum. As extension students are the busy people of this world, these lectures occur only at intervals of one week, thus giving the student time for the extra reading and study that he is asked to do. A unit course, then, will cover a period of six weeks; and four unit courses, extending over a period of twenty-four weeks, constitute an extension year. It is superfluous to attempt to estimate how much the earnest solitary student may accomplish in a year through the assistance and the impetus thusgiven his efforts. Much, however, depends upon the personal effort of the student, and the syllabus is intended to direct his private study.
The syllabus is much more than a carefully prepared outline of a unit course. It must form a skeleton for the student's diligent work; it must recall and elaborate the points brought out in each lecture; it must give a comprehensive list of reference books upon the course—a bibliography of the subject—with information as to the best editions and as to how to use the books to the best advantage; it must suggest lines of research—comparisons and parallelisms; it must outline for the student paper work with full instructions as to how to write upon the subject; it must, in short, be a sort of teacher, full of methods and of suggestions, supplementing the work of the class.
The class immediately follows the lecture and is conducted by the lecturer himself. It is here that the student comes into the most direct contact with the educator. Just as the lecture is for the popular audience, many of whom seek pleasure rather than information, so the class is preeminently the earnest student's workshop. It is here that he has the privilege of turning questioner and of putting to the lecturer such queries as have puzzled him in his private work. The papers that have been prepared during the week are criticised and discussed, and experienced lecturers claim that some extension students can and do prepare papers which show as deep an insight and as broad an understanding of the subject as are manifested by the ordinary college student. The class then is, from the student point of view, the select portion of the audience, and still it often happens that only a small proportion of this class even can be induced to do systematic and thorough work; they are regarded as the fruit of the lecture and measure the speaker's ability to interest a popular audience.
As an adjunct to class work, the travelling library is proposed. In order to do effective work, the student must have books, and university extension proposes to arrange with public libraries so that the necessary volumes can be furnished the isolated student at a cost little in excess of that of transportation. There is such competition among express companies that there will be little trouble in getting rates of transportation which will render this feature of extensionteaching practicable. What Mudie's Circulating Library is to England, the extension travelling library may be to America. The result will be to place in the reach of all the best copyrighted books, and to strangle the reprints of worthless publications that are bought only because they are cheap.
Finally there comes the examination. For the assurance of timid and sensitive persons, it may be stated that extension work is optional, and may be carried to any desired stage of completion. The many enter upon the work because it is popular and interesting; and as soon as it assumes the character of study, the class will often dwindle down to a small portion of the audience. The requirements for an examination will weed this remainder until there is found but a handful that will submit to the test. These workers are usually mature, and often prove themselves to be thorough and proficient students. The examination is intended to be a thorough test, and if it proves the work to have been creditably done, a certificate to that effect is awarded.
Any community that arranges for one or more unit courses is termed a local centre. In order to introduce and conduct this plan of work, there must be some kind of a local organization. Often there already exists, even in a small town, some literary club or other society organized for purposes of education or culture. Such societies, if in a thrifty condition, may be utilized for extension purposes. If they prove to be responsible for the expense of one or more unit courses, no further organization is needed; but in towns where no such society exists, a local centre may be formed by the co-operation of a few citizens. A public meeting may be convened or other means taken to elect a local committee consisting of a half dozen members, with at least a chairman, a secretary, and a treasurer as its official board. The first work of the committee is to raise a guarantee fund to cover the expense of one or more unit courses. Responsible persons are willing enough to subscribe to such a fund upon the assurance that it will not be used except in case of a deficiency caused by a limited sale of student or course tickets. Experience in Philadelphia has proved that, ordinarily, enough tickets will be sold to more than cover the expense of the course.
The guarantee fund raised, the local committee is ready to secure the services of a lecturer, and is brought into business connections with the nearest branch, as the next higher stage in the system is denominated. The branch is located at a railroad centre, and in the vicinity of some college or university. For example, the Philadelphia branch is the business centre for the entire region within a radius of fifty miles. It draws its lecturers from the faculties of the University of Pennsylvania, Princeton, Bryn Mawr, Haverford, and Swarthmore. The branch acts as the middle man between the college and the local centre. Its functions are to supply a competent corps of lecturers, to systematize the work within its jurisdiction, and to organize new local centres. Already the Philadelphia branch has formed twenty-five local centres, some of which another season will give a full year's work consisting of four unit courses.
Located in Philadelphia in the midst of colleges, this organization is purely national in its aims. It brings with it system out of chaos. While university extension was groping aimlessly about, it came to the attention of one of the leading educators of our country. As provost of the University of Pennsylvania, Dr. William Pepper has proved himself to be a man of great executive ability. Comprehending to the fullest extent the future of our educational system, with wonderful foresight, he saw in the extension movement a future far more important than for a mere matter of missionary diversion for certain charitably inclined professors. He at once suggested plans for uniting the efforts of those engaged in the work and of harmonizing them throughout the country. Accordingly Mr. George Henderson was sent to England to study the movement in all of its bearings, and to gain a thorough insight into the English system. Upon his return the American Society was organized with Dr. Pepper as president, and Mr. Henderson as Secretary. But Dr. Pepper, already burdened with the executive duties of a great university, as well as with the labors of an extensive profession, was soon obliged to withdraw from the active presidency, and Dr. Edmund J. James was elected to that office. Such, in brief, is the origin of the National Society.
This American Society comes in as a helpmate to the local centre, the branch, the college, and the university.Its functions are distinct and various. Coming forward with the accumulated experience of a quarter century in England, it can enable extension workers in this country to profit thereby. It has employed a corps of practical business men to systematize the work, and to attend to the necessary details; it is publishing a monthly journal calledUniversity Extension, for the purpose of gathering and disseminating information regarding the movement; it publishes syllabi and furnishes them to the student and to the public at the lowest possible cost; and employs organizers to help in the formation of local centres, and to get them in working order. It must be recognized at once that no single educational institution can do this general work, and that the American Society, instead of becoming a competitor with the university in extension work, renders it practical for even the smaller colleges to enter this field of usefulness.
In the performance of its functions, then, the National Society must ordinarily deal with the greater centres of organization; still when it is impracticable to form a branch, it may deal directly with the local centre. Nor is its influence bounded by any conventional barriers. It can enter the home where the solitary student sits by his evening lamp, and direct his work. In this home work, of course, the student rarely comes into direct contact with the educator, but through systematized correspondence his work may be directed and finally tested. It can thus be given a true educational value. It must not be ignored that a startling proportion of our great business men are what are termed self-educated. So will it be in the future; but it is far from visionary to believe that university extension will open paths whereby the solitary student need no longer employ an expensive tutor nor waste his time, groping in the labyrinth paths of knowledge, without a thread, at least, to direct his wanderings to pleasanter fields of light and learning.
While this system of study is popular, and has all the glitter of novelty, many insincere persons will enroll their names. Some will seek only entertainment, and will be satisfied with the popular lecture alone. Others, through timidity and lack of self-confidence, may attend the class but will not attempt the paper work or the examination.But in every community are scores of earnest, hungry students anxious to learn but knowing not how to get the knowledge that they crave,—mature students settled in homes and in business,—to such university extension offers chances for improvement and refreshing labor that were never known before. Then it is no longer imperative to reside in the vicinity of the university, or to forever remain ignorant of university learning, for wherever a score or more of students may congregate, there can be brought from college halls a master workman to direct the work.
It is easy, then, to realize the scope of the American society. It can stretch its influence into every corner of the country; it can enter every town and city; it can enter even the isolated home. Ordinarily colleges and universities of the country are anxious to work with the National Society, for in this way even the small college becomes a link in this great chain of organization, and the efforts of its faculty may bear fruit, whereas unsystematized work is little better than a failure. By such co-operation the work of extension teaching may have come to have such a positive educational value that its certificates, when awarded by the members of a college faculty, may, in that institution, at least, pass current for a definite amount of the work required for a degree. At Cambridge, England, students from centres that are in affiliation with that institution can thus save one year's residence at the university. Is it, then, visionary to expect as much here?
University extension, however, offers no royal road to learning; it is as yet, as it were, laying the ties for a broad gauge track where only those that have the strength to work their passage may travel. But when operated by the American Society, it is far in advance of the overland or Panama routes of the forty-niners in extension travel. This society seems to have solved the problem, and promises to become the great American University that Washington proposed, Jefferson planned, and scores have, since the founding of our government, prophesied and awaited.