LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL- BEING AN EASTERN VIEW OF WESTERN CIVILIZATION 3 G, u>, I > GARDEN CITY NEW YORK DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY MCMXV COPYEICHT, 1008, BY DOUBLBDAY, PAGE & COMPANY INTRODUCTION TO THE AMERICAN EDITION INTRODUCTION TO THE AMERICAN EDITION In venturing to lay the following letters before the American public, I feel that I may be ex- pected to preface them by a word of explana- tion, if not of apology. Written originally for the English, they touch upon specifically Eng- lish institutions: and the few references they contain to contemporary history and politics are such as would naturally be of interest rather to European than to American readers. Regarded from this point of view, their publication in the United States might seem to be irrelevant, and even impertinent. And yet I venture to think that, if they have any significance, it is of a kind that should appeal with a peculiar force to Americans. For their interest, such as it is, depends, not upon topical allusions, but upon the whole contrast suggested between Eastern vii INTRODUCTION and Western ideals. And America, in a pre- eminent degree, is representative of the West. For a century past she has drawn to herself, by an irresistible attraction, the boldest, the most masterful, the most practically intelligent of the spirits of Europe; just as, by the same law, she has repelled the sensitive, the contemplative, and the devout Unconsciously, by the mere fact of her existence, she has sifted the nations; the children of the Spirit have slipped through the iron net of her destinies, but the children of the World she has gathered into her granaries. She h.is thns become, in a sense peculiar and unique, the type and exemplar of the Western world. Over her unencumbered plains the (it'iiius of Industry ranges unchallenged, niked, unashamed. Whereas, in Europe, it has still to fight for its supremacy; for there it is con- fronted with the debris of an earlier society, with ideals, habits, institutions, monuments, tra- ditions, alien to its achievement and incompre- hensible to its aims. Cathedral churches, gray in the north and sublime as the cliffs and the viii INTRODUCTION clouds, exuberant in the south with color and form like the lovely landscape they adorn, tes- tify to the passage of a religion which, whatever its defects, had at least the merit of spiritual audacity. Splendid palaces, manors, and parks, ancient moss-grown cottages, perpetuate the tra- dition of ranks and orders, ancient, hereditary, and fixed. Titles, forms, manners, habits, a whole ritual of life, proclaim a standard, vanishing no doubt, of merit and of duty, not yet convertible into terms of money. A conception that leisure may be noble, and that activity may be base, that there is an inner, as well as an outer life, and that the latter, on any reasonable estimate, has value only as minister to the former, such a conception still survives, efficient in individual lives, and embodied in works of literature and of art. In Europe, in a word, the modern spirit has to contend with an ancient culture; and its methods and results are modified and trans- formed by the conflict. But in America it is free; and whatever truth there may be in my analysis of its character snd operation, should ix INTRODUCTION be illustrated, one would expect, on a larger scale, in bolder and more uncompromising man- ifestations, on this continent than in any of the countries of Europe. Whether that be so or not, I must leave to the candor of my American readers. But if it be, then, as I cannot but think, a serioys issue is raised as to the future not merely of the United States, but of the whole Western world. For it is impossible not to recognize that the destinies of Europe are closely bound up with those of this country; and that what is at stake in the development of the American Republic is nothing less than the success or failure of Western civilization. Endowed, above all the nations of the world, with intelligence, energy, and force, unhampered by the splendid ruins of a past which, however great, does but encumber, in the old world, with fears, hesitations, and re- grets, the difficult march to the promised land of the future, combining the magnificent enthu- siasm of youth with the wariness of maturer years, and animated by a confidence almost re- x INTRODUCTION ligious in their own destiny, the American people are called upon, it would seem, to deter- mine, in a pre-eminent degree, the form that is to be assumed by the society of the future. Upon them hangs the fate of the Western world. And were I an American citizen, the thought would fill me, I confess, less with exultation than with anxious and grave reflection. I should ask myself whether the triumphs gained by my countrymen over matter and space had been se- cured at the cost of spiritual insight and force; whether their immense achievement in the de- velopment of the practical arts had been accom- panied by any serious contribution to science, literature, and art; whether, in a word, the soul had grown with the body, or was tending to atrophy and decay. And looking back over the long history of mankind, considering the record of the nations who have borne in succession the torch of civilization which England, even now, is handing across to America, considering all that is disappearing in Europe and all that has not yet begun to show itself here, I should feel xi INTRODUCTION that Humanity is standing at the parting of the ways, that it is confronted with an issue of a gravity and importance unparalleled, perhaps, since the fall of the Roman Empire. That issue I would put somewhat as follows: Is that which created the religion, the art, the specula- tion of the Past ; that insatiable hunger for Eter- nity which, by a sacramental mystery, has transubstantiated into the heavenly essence of the Ideal, the base and quotidian elements of the Actual; that spirit of unquenchable aspiration which has assumed, in its tireless quest for em- bodiment, J"orms so alluring, so terrible, so di- vine, which has luxuriated in the jungle of Hin- doo myths, blossomed in the Pantheon of the Greeks, suffered on the cross, perished at the stake, wasted in the cloister and the cell, whicji has given life to marble, substance to color, structure to fugitive sound, which has fashioned a palace of fire and cloud to inhabit for its de- sire, and deemed it, for its beauty, more dear and more real than kingdoms of iron and gold; is that hunger, in the future as in the past, xii INTRODUCTION to harass and hunt us from our styes? Is that spirit to urge as of old the reluctant wheels of our destiny? Or are we to fill our belly with the husks of comfort, security, and peace? To crush in the dust under our Juggernaut car that delicate charioteer? Are we to be spirits or in- telligent brutes; men or mere machines? That is the question now put, as it has never been put before, to the nations of the West, and pre-em- inently to the people of these States. Doubtless, were I an American, I should not question the capacity of my countrymen to answer it, and to answer it in the best and most fruitful sense. Yet the consciousness of the immensity of the problem would, I think, check at the birth any tendency which I might otherwise have indulged to premature exultation. For I should feel that the work had hardly been begun, that the foun- dations were barely laid ; nay, that the very plan of the building was not yet drawn out. And looking across the ocean, to Europe and to the far East, I should be anxious, not indeed to im- itate the forms, but to appropriate the inspira- xiii INTRODUCTION tion of that ancient world which created man- ners, laws, religion, art, whose history is the record not merely of the body, but of the soul of mankind, and whose spirit, already escaping from the forms in which it had found a partial embodiment, is hovering even now at your gates in quest of a new and more perfect incarnation. Will you not receive it ? I do not doubt that you will, if not to-day, then to-morrow, if not to- morrow, then the day after. And if, in any smallest way, these few imperfect pages may contribute to prepare for it a welcome among you, you perhaps will pardon their defects, in recognition of a sincere intention, and will tol- erate, even from a stranger, a certain freedom of speech which otherwise you might not unnat- urally resent as an impertinence. LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL Recent events in China have brought into new prominence at once the fundamental antagonism between Eastern and Western civilization, and that ignorance and contempt of the one for the other which is mainly responsible for the present situation. In the face of the tragedy that is being enacted, I have long held my peace. But a grow- ing sense of indignation, and a hope, perhaps illusory, that I may contribute to remove certain misunderstandings, have impelled me at last to open my lips, and to lay before the British public some views which have long been crying for ut- terance. Of the immediate crisis I do not pro- pose to speak. It is my object rather to pro- mote a juster estimate of my countrymen and their policy, by explaining, as far as I am able, the way in which we regard Western civilization, and the reasons we have for desiring to exclude its influences. For such a task I conceive LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL to be not altogether unfit. A long residence in England gives me some right to speak of your institutions; while absence from my own country has not disqualified me to speak of ours. A Chinaman remains always a Chinaman; and much as I admire in some of its aspects the achievement of Western civilization, I have yet seen nothing which could make me regret that I was born a citizen of the East. To Englishmen this may seem a strange confession. You are accustomed to regard us as barbarians, and not unnaturally, for it is only on the occasions when we murder your compatriots that your attention is powerfully drawn toward us. From such spasmodic outbreaks you are apt overhastily to infer that we are a nation of cold-blooded assas- sins; a conclusion as reasonable as would be an inference from the present conduct of your troops in China to the general character of West- ern civilization. We are not to be judged by the acts of our mobs, nor even, I may add, by those of our Government, for the Government in C 1 ' -a does not represent the nation. Yet even r - LETTERS FROM A CHIVES OFFICIAL those acts (strongly as they are condemned by all educated Chinamen) deserve, I venture to think, on the part of Europeans, a consideration more grave, and a less intemperate reprobation, than they have hitherto received among you. For they are expressions of a feeling which is, and must always be, the most potent factor in our relations with the West-C-our profound mis- trust and dislike of your civilization.' This feel- *-' _M^ ^ ^ ** ing you, naturally enough, attribute to prejudice and ignorance. In reality, I venture to think, it is based upon reason ; and for this point of view I would ask the serious and patient considera- tion of my readers. Our civilization is the oldest in the world. It does not follow that it is the best; but neither, I submit, does it follow that it is the worst. On the contrary, such antiquity is, at any rate, a proof that our institutions have guaranteed to us a stability for which we search in vain among the nations of Europe. But not only is our civiliza- tion stable, it also embodies, as we think, a moral order ; while in yours we detect only an economic Ul LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL chaos. Whether your religion be better than ours, I do not at present dispute ; but it is certain that it has less influence on your society. You profess Christianity, but your civilization has never been Christian; whereas ours is Confucian through and through. But to say that it is Confucian, is to say that it is moral; or, at least (for I do not wish to beg the question), that moral relations are those which it primarily con- templates. Whereas, with you (so it seems to us) economic relations come first, and upon these you endeavor, afterward, to graft as much morality as they will admit This point I may illustrate by a comparison between your view of the family and ours. To you, so far as a foreigner can perceive, the f am- ily is merely a means for nourishing and pro- tecting the child until he is of age to look after himself. As early as may be, you send your boys away to a public school, where they quickly emancipate themselves from the influences of their home. As soon as they are of age, you send them out, as you say, to "make their fortune"; [6] LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL and from that moment, often enough, as they cease to be dependent on their parents, so they cease to recognize obligations toward them. They may go where they will, do what they will, earn and spend as they choose ; and it is at their own option whether or no they maintain their family ties. x With you the individual is the unit; and all the units are free/ No one is tied, but also no one is rooted. Your society, to use your own word, is "progressive"; you are always "moving on." Everyone feels it a duty (and in most cases it is a necessity) to strike out a new line for himself. To remain in the position in which you were born you consider a disgrace; a man, to be a man, must venture, struggle, com- pete, and win. To this characteristic of your so- ciety is to be attributed, no doubt, its immense activity, and its success in all material arts. But to this, also, is due the feature that most strikes a Chinaman its unrest, its confusion, its lack (as we think) of morality. Among you no one is contented, no one has leisure to live, o intent are all on increasing the means of liv.- [7] LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL ing. The "cash-nexus" (to borrow a phrase of one of your own writers) is the only relation you recognize among men. Now, to us of the East all this is the mark of a barbarous society. We measure the degree of civilization not by accumulation of the means of living, but by the character and value of the life lived, i Where there are no humane and stable % relations, no reverence for the past, no respect even for the present, but only a cupidinous rav- ishment of the future, there, we think, there is no true society. And we would not if we could rival you in your wealth, your sciences, and your arts, if we must do so at the cost of imitating your institutions. In all these matters, our own procedure is the opposite to yours. We look first to the society and then to the individual. Among us, it is a rule that a man is born into precisely those relations in which he is to continue during the course of his life. As he begins, so he ends, a member of his family group, and to this condi- tion the whole theory and practice of his life LETTERS FROM A CHIKEPR OFFICIAL conforms. He is taught to worship his ancestors, to honor and obey his parents, and to prepare himself from an early age for the duties of a husband and a father. Marriage does not dis- solve the family; the husband remains, and the wife becomes a member of his group of kinsmen. And this group is the social unit. ' It has its common plot of ground, its common altar and rites, its tribunal for settling disputes among its members. No man in China is isolated, save by his own fault. If it is not so easy for him to grow rich as with you, neither is it so easy for him to starve; if he has not the motive to com- pete, neither has he the temptation to cheat and oppress. Free at once from the torment of am- bition and the apprehension of distress, he has leisure to spare from the acquisition of the means of living for life itself. He has both the instinct and the opportunity to appreciate the gifts of Nature, to cultivate manners, and to enter into humane and disinterested relations with his fel- lows. The result is a type which we cannot but regard as superior, both morally and aesthetically , [91 LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL to the great bulk of your own citizens in Europe. And while we recognize the greatness of your practical and scientific achievements, yet we find it impossible unreservedly to admire a civiliza- tion which has produced manners so coarse, morals so low, and an appearance so unlovely as those with which we are constantly confronted in your great cities. Admitting that we are not what you call a progressive people, we yet per- ceive that progress may be bought too dear. We prefer our own moral to your material ad- vantages, and we are determined to cling to the institutions which, we believe, insure us the for- mer, even at the risk of excluding ourselves from the latter. 1 10] II In my last letter I endeavored to give some general account of the salient differences be- tween your civilization and ours. Such differ- ences have led inevitably to conflict; and recent events might seem to give some color to the idea that in that conflict it is we who have been the aggressors. But nothing in fact can be further from the truth. ( Left to ourselves, we should never have sought intercourse with the West. We have no motive to do so ; for we desire neither to proselytize nor to trade. We believe, it is true, that our religion is more rational than yours, our morality higher, and our institutions more perfect; but we recognize that what is suited to us may be ill adapted to others. We do not con- ceive that we have a mission to redeem or to civilize the world, still less that that mission is to be accomplished by the methods of fire and LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL sword; and we are thankful enough if we can solve our own problems, without burdening our- selves with those of other peoples. And as we are not led to interfere with you by the desire to convert you, so are we not driven to do so by the necessities of trade. Economi- cally, as well as politically, we are sufficient to ourselves. What we consume we produce, and what we produce we consume. We do not re- quire, and we have not sought, the products of other nations; and we hold it no less imprudent than unjust to make war on strangers in order to oien their marketsi A society, we conceive, that is to be politicallystable must be economi- cally independent; and we regard an extensive foreign trade as necessarily a source of social demoralization, j In these, &An all other points, your principle is the opposite to ours. You believe, not only that your religion is the only true one, but that it is your duty to impose it on all other nations, if need be, at the point of the sword. And this motive of aggression is reinforced by another [12] LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL still more potent. Economically, your society is so constituted that it is constantly on the verge of starvation. You cannot produce what you need to consume, nor consume what you need to produce. It is matter of life and death to you to find markets in which you may dispose of your manufactures, and from which you may derive your food and raw material. Such a market China is, or might be; and the opening of this market is in fact the motive, thinty disguised, of all your dealings with us in recent years. The justice and morality of such a policy I do not propose to discuss. It is, in fact, the product of sheer material necessity, and upon such a ground it is idle to dispute. I shall confine myself there- fore to an endeavor to present our view of the situation, and to explain the motives we have for resenting your aggression. To the ordinary British trader it seems no doubt a strange thing that we should object to what he describes as the opening out of our national resources. Viewing everything, as he habitually does, from the standpoint of profit and [13] LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL loss, he conceives that if it can be shown that a certain course will lead to the increase of wealth, it follows that that is the course that ought to be adopted. The opening of China to his capital and his trade he believes will have this result; and he concludes that it is our interest to wel- come rather than to resist his enterprise. From his point of view he is justified; but his point of view is not ours. We are accustomed, before adopting any grave measure of policy, to esti- mate its effects not merely on the sum total of our wealth, but (which we conceive to be a very different thing) on our national well-being. You, as always, are thinking of the means of living; we, of the quality of the life lived. And when you ask us, as you do in effect, to transform our whole society, to convert ourselves from a nation of agriculturists to a nation of traders and manufacturers, to sacrifice to an imaginary prosperity our political and economic indepen- dence, and to revolutionize not only our industry, but our manners, morals, and institutions, we may b. pardoned if we first take a critical look [14] LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL at the effects which have been produced among yourselves by the conditions you urge us to in- troduce in China. The results of such a survey, we venture to think, are not encouraging. Like the prince in the fable, you seem to have released from his prison the genie of competition^ only to find that you are unable to control him/ Your legislation for the past hundred years is a perpetual and fruitless effort to regulate the disorders of your economic system. J Your poor, your drunk, your incompetent, your sick, your aged, ride you like a nightmare. You have dissolved all human and personal ties, and you endeavor, in vain, to re- place them by the impersonal activity of the State. The salient characteristic of your civili- zation is its irresponsibility. You have liberated forces you cannot control; you are caught your- selves in your own levers and cogs. In every department of business you are substituting for the individual the company, for the workman the tool. The making of dividends is the univer- sal preoccupation; the well-being of the laborer [15] LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL is no one's concern but the State's. And this concern even the State is incompetent to under- take, for the factors by which it is determined are beyond its control. You depend on varia- tions of supply and demand which you can neither determine nor anticipate. The failure of a harvest, the modification of a tariff in some remote country, dislocates the industry of mill- ions, thousands of miles away. You are at the mercy of a prospector's luck, an inventor's genius, a woman's caprice nay, you are at the mercy of your own instruments. Your capital is alive, and cries for food ; starve it and it turns and throttles you. You produce, not because you will, but because you must; you consume, not what you choose, but what is forced upon you. Never was any trade so bound as this which you call free ; but it is bound, not by a rea- sonable will, but by the accumulated irrationality of caprice. Such is the internal economy of your State, as it presents itself to a Chinaman; and not more encouraging is the spectacle of your foreign re- [16] LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL lations. Commercial intercourse between na- tions, it was supposed some fifty years ago, would inaugurate an era of peace; and there appear to be many among you who still cling to this belief. But never was, belief more plainly contradicted by the facts. The competition for markets bids fair to be a more fruitful cause of war than was ever in the past the ambition of princes or the bigotry of priests.; The peoples of Europe fling themselves, like hungry beasts of prey, on every yet unexploited quarter of the globe. Hitherto they have confined their acts of spoliation to those whom they regard as out- side their own pale. But always, while they di- vide the spoil, they watch one another with a jealous eye; and sooner or later, when there is nothing left to divide, they will fall upon one another. / That is the real meaning of your ar- maments ; you must devour or be devoured. ) And it is precisely those trade relations, which it was thought would knit you in the bonds of peace, which, by making every one of you cut-throat rivals of the others, have brought you within 117] LETTERS FEOM A CHINESE OFFICIAL reasonable distance of a general war of exter- mination. In thus characterizing your civilization, I am not (I think) carried away by a foolish Chauvin- ism, I do not conceive the inhabitants of Europe to be naturally more foolish and depraved than those of China. On the contrary^ it is a cardinal tenet of our faith, that human nature is every- where the same, and that it is circumstances that make it good or bad. If, then, your economy, internal or external, be really as defective as we conceive, the cause we think must be sought not in any radical defect in your national character, but in precisely those political and social institu- tions which you are urging us to adopt at home. Can you wonder, in the circumstances, that we resist your influence by any means at our com- mand; and that the more intelligent among us, while they regret the violence to which your agents have been exposed, yet feel that it weighs as nothing in the scale, when set against the intolerable evils which would result from the success of your enterprise ? [18] Ill In one of your journals I recently read that "the civilization of China" is the ultimate object of the nations of Europe. If so, the methods they adopt to attain their end are singular in- deed: but of these I do not trust myself to speak. Looting, wanton destruction, cold-blooded mur- der, and rape, these are the things which you do not, I know, here in England approve, which you would prevent, I am convinced, if you could, and which I am willing to set down to the license of ill-disciplined troops. It is for another pur- pose than that of idle deprecation that I refer to them in this place. ( The question always be- fore my mind when you speak of civilization is this: What kind of men has your civilization produced? And to such a question current events in China seem to suggest an answer not altogether reassuring. But that answer I do not press. It may be that all culture, ours as much as yours, is no more than a veneer; that [19] LETTEUS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL deep in the den of every human heart lurks the brute, ready to leap on its prey when chance or design has unbarred the gates. We at any rate, in China, lie 'under the same condemnation as you; and our reproaches, like yours, fly back to the mouths of them that utter them. I pass, therefore, from scees like these to normal con- ditions of life. /What manner of men, I ask, are we, what manner of men are you, that you shoulcl^take upon yourselves to call us barba- rians ? What manner of men are we? The question is hard to answer. Turning it over in my thoughts, hour after hour, day after day, I can hit on no better device to bring home to you something of what is in my mind than to en- deavor to set down here, as faithfully as I can, a picture that never ceases to haunt my memory as I walk in these dreary winter days the streets of your black Metropolis. Far away in the East, under sunshine such as you never saw (for even such light as you have you tain and infect with sooty smoke), on the [20] LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL shore of a broad river stands the house where I was born. It is one among thousands ; but every one stands in its own garden, simply painted in white or gray, modest, cheerful, and clean. For many miles along the valley, one after the other, they lift their blue- or red-tiled roofs out of a sea of green; while here and there glitters out over a clump of trees the gold enamel of some tall pagoda. The river, crossed by frequent bridges and crowded with barges and junks, bears on its clear stream the traffic of thriving village-markets. For prosperous peasants peo- ple all the district, owning and tilling the fields their fathers owned and tilled before them. The soil on which they work, they may say, they and their ancestors have made. For see ! almost to the summit what once were barren hills are waving green with cotton and rice, sugar, oranges, and tea. Water drawn from the river- bed girdles the slopes with silver; and falling from channel to channel in a thousand bright cascades, plashing in cisterns, chuckling in pipes, soaking and oozing in the soil, distributes freely [21] LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL to all alike fertility, verdure, and life. Hour after hour you may traverse, by tortuous paths, over tiny bridges, the works of the generations who have passed, the labors of their children of to-day; till you reach the point where man suc- cumbs and Nature has her way, covering the highest crags with a mantle of azure and gold and rose, gardenia, clematis, azalea, growing luxuriantly wild. How often here have I sat for hours in a silence so intense that, as one of our poets has said, "you may hear the shadows of the trees rustling on the ground"; a silence broken only now and again from far below by voices of laborers calling across the water- courses, or, at evening or dawn, by the sound of gongs summoning to worship from the tem- ples in the valley. Such silence ! Such sounds ! Such perfume! Such color! The senses re- spond to their objects; they grow exquisite to a degree you cannot well conceive in your north- ern climate; and beauty pressing in from with- out moulds the spirit and mind insensibly to harmony with herself. If in China we have man- [22] LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL ners, if we have art, if we have morals, the reason, to those who can see, is not far to seek. ( Nature has taught us; and so far, we are only more fortunate than you.X But, also, we have had the grace to learn her lesson ; and that, we think, we may ascribe to our intelligence. For, con- sider, here in this lovely valley live thousands of souls without any law save that of custom, with- out any rule save that of their own hearths. Industrious they are, as you hardly know indus- try in Europe ; but it is the industry of free men working for their kith and kin, on the lands they received from their fathers, to transmit, enriched by their labors, to their sons. They have no other ambition ; they do not care to amass wealth ; and if in each generation some must needs go out into the world, it is with the hope, not com- monly frustrated, to return to the place of their birth and spend their declining years among the scenes and faces that were dear to their youth. Among such a people there is no room for fierce, indecent rivalries. None is master, none servant ; but equality, concrete and real, regulates and [23] LETTERS FROM A CHINESE OFFICIAL sustains their intercourse. Healthy toil, suffi- cient leisure, frank hospit&Hty, a content born of habit and undisturbed by chimerical ambi- tions, a sense of beauty fostered by the loveliest Nature in the world, and finding expression in gracious and dignified manners where it is not embodied in exquisite works of art such are the char aj^teri sties of the people among whom I was born. jD es m y memory flatter me? Do I idealize tHe scenes of my youth? It may be so. But this I know: that some such life as I have described, reared on the basis of labor on the soil, of equality and justice, does exist and flourish frhpughout the length and breadth of China. \ What have you to offer in its place, you our would-be civilizers? Your religion? Alas! it is in the name of that that you are doing un- namable deeds ! Your morals ? Where shall we find them ? Your intelligence ? Whither has it led ? I What counter-picture have you to offer "" ~*