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CHAPTER XII

CHINA-PAST, PRESENT, FUTURE

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OOKING upon the map of China to-day, England might well say with Clive, "I stand amazed at my own moderation." If thirty years ago she had seized upon the whole of that vast empire, no other Power in the world would have dared to

say her nay. She was undisputed mistress of the

Eastern seas. Russia had not then reached the shores of the Pacific and her hands were busily employed in the centre of Asia. Germany had only just become a nation, and had not yet dreamt of contending with England for the commerce of the world. France lay crushed beneath the weight of an overwhelming defeat; and her voice was unheard in the councils of the nations. The United States of America had no thought of realms beyond the sea; their fleet was small, and the markets of Asia held no temptation for their merchants. Japan was but a name. The Meiji, the eventful revolution that freed her from the iron fetters of hide-bound ignorance, was scarcely ten years old; and even its authors scarce dared to hope that their little islands would one day rank high among the civilised Powers of the world.

And China itself, that unwieldy Colossus, lay a helpless prey to any strong nation that placed aggrandisement before the claims of abstract justice. The prize was tempting. An immense empire that stretched from the snows of the North to the burning heats of the torrid zone; a land of incredible fertility, of vast mineral wealth, the value of which can even now be only vaguely guessed at; a teeming population of industrious and easily-contented millions; an enormous seaboard with natural harbours that could shelter the navies of the world; navigable rivers that pierced to the heart of the land and offered themselves as veritable highways of commerce; all the riches that the earth could bear on its surface or hide in its bosom-what a guerdon to the victor!

The conquest of China might daunt the fainthearted from the apparent immensity of the task; but few countries would have proved an easier prize. Her army was composed of a heterogeneous collection of ill-armed militia, whose weapons were more frequently the spear and the bow than the modern rifle. The Chinaman is, by nature, a lover of peace. War he abhors; and the profession of a soldier, honoured among other races, is held by him in utter contempt. Unpaid, uncared for, ill-treated, and despised, the troops had to be driven to battle and could not withstand a determined attack. And behind them was no high-spirited nation ready to risk all in the defence of the motherland. Patriot

ism is unknown. The love of country, so strong in other peoples, is non-existent in the heart of the average Chinaman. With aught beyond the limits of his village, he has no concern. No other race in the world can boast so deep a love of family. To save his relatives from poverty, the Celestial will go willingly to his death. According to their laws a criminal cannot be slain unless he has confessed his crime. To wring this confession from him, tortures inconceivable in their fiendish malignity are heaped upon him. A speedy death would be a boon. But to acknowledge his guilt and die by the hands of the public executioner would entail the forfeiture of all his property to the State, and his family would be beggared. So, grimly uncomplaining, he submits for their sake to agonies that no white man could endure. A rich man condemned to death can generally purchase a substitute, can find a poverty-stricken wretch willing to die in his stead for a sum of money that will place his starving relatives in comparative affluence. All this the poor Chinaman will do for those he loves. How How many white men would do the same? But why should he die for his country? he asks. Why sacrifice himself and those near and dear to him for the honour of a shadowy Emperor? Why should he lay down his life that the officials who oppress the poor and wrest his hard-earned money from him may flourish unmolested? He is told that the Japanese, yellow men like himself, have invaded

the land and defeated the Imperial troops. Well, the enemies are thousands of miles away from him, and the soldiers are paid to fight. What is it to him that strangers have seized upon some seaport, the name of which he has never heard before? Let those whom it concerns go out and fight them. His duty is to stay at home and till the ground that his family may not lack food.

A few of the more enlightened Chinamen of the upper classes, those who have lived abroad in Europe or America, in Australia, Hong Kong, and the Straits Settlements, or who have been educated in European colleges, may be inspired with the love of country as we understand it. But have the leaders of the nation, the nobles and the mandarins, ever been ready to sacrifice themselves for China? They batten on its misfortunes. The higher in rank they are the readier they prove themselves to intrigue with its enemies and sell their country for foreign gold. They drive the common folk to battle and stay at home themselves. The generals and the officers, with few exceptions, are never found in front of their troops in action, unless when a retirement is ordered. Occasionally isolated cases occur when a defeated commander commits suicide. But it is generally because he prefers an easy death by his own hand to the degradation and tortures that await the vanquished general.

To prate of the patriotism of the Chinese is as though one spoke of the "patriotism of India."

Still, the latter is a favourite phrase of some of our ignorant politicians who pose as the champions of "the down-trodden black brother." They talk of India being made self-governing and wish to fill its Civil Service with " enlightened natives." They fail to see why a Calcutta Babu or a Bombay Parsee, who boasts a university degree and has passed a brilliant examination, should not be set to rule over a Punjaub district or to deal with the unruly Pathans on the frontier. They do not realise that Englishmen would sooner submit to be governed by the knout of a Russian official than the haughty Sikh or fierce Pathan would endure the sway of men they regard as lower than dogs. Our Indian Empire is composed of a hundred warring nations, all different in speech, in blood, almost in religions. We, the dominant race, hold them all in the Pax Britannica, and keep them from each other's throats.

In like manner few realise that China is not a united and homogeneous nation. It consists of many provinces, the inhabitants of which belong practically to different races and speak in different tongues. They have little intercourse or sympathy with each other. Inter-village wars are almost as frequent as among Pathans. Rebellions are common The Mohammedans hold themselves aloof and regard the other Chinese with little love. The written language is the same throughout China; but the man of Canton cannot speak with the inhabitant of Pekin or the coolie from Amoy. Occa

Occurrences.

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