“The test of good government has always been the absence of rebellion; a State which takes adequate measures for self-defence can never be in serious danger. By the accumulated wisdom of six successive Sovereigns, our dynasty has succeeded in establishing a system of government, based on absolute justice and benevolence, which approaches very nearly to perfection. It has been our pleasure to grant immediate relief in times of flood and famine. When rivers burst their banks, our first thought has ever been the safety of our people. Never have we resorted to conscription, or to the levying of corvées. We have always excluded Chinese women from service as subordinates in the Palace. Surely such evidences of benevolent solicitude merit the hearty co-operation of all our subjects, and entitle us to expect that all our people, high and low, should peacefully pursue their business in life, so that all men, even the humblest labourers, may enjoy the blessings of peace. Is it any wonder then, that our soul is vexed when abominable treachery and the preaching of rebellion have been permitted to exist and to be spread broad-cast; when high officials, lacking all proper principles, have dared to recommend traitors to the Throne, in furtherance of their own evil designs? When we think of these things, our righteous indignation almost overwhelms us; nevertheless, we have granted a general amnesty, and will enquire no further into these base plottings.”
The Decree concluded with the usual exhortation to the official class, and an appeal for the exercise of ideal virtue.
Her Majesty’s next step was to reinstate certain leading reactionaries, whom the Emperor had recently dismissed, notably Hsü Ying-kuei, who had denounced the reformer Wang Chao. The Emperor’s party was now completely broken up, and he was left without supporters or friends in Peking. The Manchu Treasurer of Kansuh (Tseng Ho) was the last high official to speak in favour of the reform movement, or rather of one of its chief advocates, and, by so doing, to bring down upon him the wrath of the Old Buddha. The Memorial which brought about his summary dismissal from office, never again to be re-employed, referred in terms of regret to the disgrace of Weng T’ung-ho, the Emperor’s tutor.
Her Majesty next turned her attention to the provinces, and administered a severe rebuke to Liu K’un-yi, who, on grounds of ill-health, had asked to be relieved of the Nanking Viceroyalty. Her Majesty, reminding him in the classical phraseology of the high favours showered upon him by the Throne, directed him to abstain from frivolous excuses and to continue in the performance of his duties, exercising more diligence therein, and more care in his selection of subordinate officials.
The audacity of Weng T’ung-ho continued to rankle sorely in Her Majesty’s mind, and to allow him to continue to live in honourable retirement in his native place without loss of rank or other punishment was not in accordance with her ideas of fitness; nor was it likely that Jung Lu, who had always borne a grudge against the Imperial tutor, would do anything to mitigate her wrath against him. In a Decree, issued in the name of the Emperor, she once more vented her spite on this aged and inoffensive scholar, in a manner highly characteristic of her temperament. The Edict is sufficiently interesting to justify the following quotation:—
“When Weng T’ung-ho acted as our Imperial tutor, his method of instruction left much to be desired; he never succeeded in explaining the inner meaning of classical or historical subjects, but would spend his time endeavouring to gain our favour and distract our attention by showing us curios and pictures. He would endeavour also to ascertain our views on current events and matters of policy by discussing questions of general contemporary interest. During the war with Japan, for instance, he would at one time profess to advocate peace, and again he would be all for war, and finally he even advised us to flee from our capital. He had a habit of exaggerating facts in order to make them coincide with his own views, and the result of the foolish and wrongful performance of his duties is now to be seen in a situation almost irreparable. In the spring of last year he was all in favour of reform, and secretly recommended to us K’ang Yu-wei as a man whose ability, he said, exceeded his own one hundred fold. We, being anxious above all things to strengthen our Empire at a time of national danger, reluctantly yielded to K’ang Yu-wei’s advice in regard to reform. He, however, took advantage of our complaisance to plot treason. For this Weng T’ung-ho is primarily to blame, and his guilt is too great to be overlooked. Besides this, he has incurred our displeasure in several other ways; for instance, he would allow himself to show annoyance if we disagreed with his recommendations, and would even attempt to browbeat us. At such times his language was most improper, and the recollection of his bullying propensities remains in our mind most unpleasantly. In a previous Decree we ordered him to vacate his post and return to his native place, but for his many offences this in itself is no adequate punishment. We now order that he be cashiered, never again to be re-employed, and that henceforth he be held under close supervision of the local authorities and prohibited from creating trouble, as a warning to all double-minded officials for the future.”[64]
Weng T’ung-ho lived in his family home (Chang Shu in Kiangsu) until June, 1904, beloved and respected by all who knew him. He was by no means a nonentity like most of the aged officials near the Throne, but rather a person of considerable force of character, and after his dismissal lived always in the hope that he might yet return to serve the Emperor and the cause of reform upon the death of the Old Buddha. Meanwhile, he became a source of considerable trouble and anxiety to the District Magistrate of his native place, as he made it his practice to call on that official three times a month, and, in the guise of a suppliant, to address him, thus, on his knees: “You have orders from the Throne secretly to keep watch over my conduct, and I therefore now attend, as in duty bound, to assist you in carrying out these orders.” As the Magistrate could never be certain that the once all-powerful Grand Secretary might not return to power, his own position was evidently one of considerable embarrassment, especially as the Weng family was the most important of the whole neighbourhood. In the intervals of baiting local officials, the Grand Secretary spent his time in scholarly retirement, and a volume of the letters written by him at this period has since been published; they show the man in a most attractive light, as a scholar and a poet; his light and easy style, combined with a tendency to mysticism and philosophic speculation, has always been highly appreciated by the literati. As his fortune had not been taken from him, his old age was probably happier in his native place than had it been exposed to the intrigues and hard work of official life at the Capital; and he died in the enjoyment of a reputation for patriotism and intelligence which extended far beyond his native province, and which, since his death, has greatly increased.
The Empress Dowager, realising that the loyalty of the literati had been greatly shaken by the Emperor’s abolition of the old system of classical studies and public examinations, proceeded to reverse His Majesty’s decision in a Decree which thoroughly delighted the Conservative Party. Scholars throughout the country praised it in unmeasured terms, as a striking example of the Old Buddha’s acute reasoning powers. To a certain extent it may be admitted that the new system of examinations introduced by the Emperor had led, at the outset, to abuses which were absent under the old classical system, where the anonymity of candidates was a cardinal principle. Her Majesty dealt with the question as follows:—
“The ancient system whereby our Dynasty has selected the scholars at public examinations by means of essays taken from the Four Books, is based on the principle that the foundation of all education lies in expounding the fundamental doctrines of our national Sages and the Standard Commentaries on the Confucian doctrine. For over two centuries this system has worked most satisfactorily, and it is only quite lately that certain meretricious tendencies have sprung up in connection therewith, and that candidates at these examinations have succeeded in obtaining degrees by the use of parrot-like repetitions and empty catch-words. The fault has been wrongly attributed to the system; it is in reality due to incapable examiners, who have allowed these abuses to creep in. Critics have failed to realise the truth in this matter, and have allowed themselves to abuse the system, going as far as to assert that the classical subjects in themselves are of no practical value. They forget that the classical essays set at these examinations are merely a first stage, a test for entrance upon an official career, and that, if the candidate is really a man of ability, the fact that he has been made to compose verses in accordance with the time-honoured methods of the T’ang and Sung dynasties will never prevent him from making his way in the world. But should he be a man in whom there exists already a tendency towards rash and unorthodox principles, it may safely be said that to set him essays on subjects of contemporary interest for the purposes of this examination would only serve to aggravate the evil and further to demoralise his nature. For these reasons, therefore, I now definitely decree that, for the future, the old system shall be restored, and that public examinations shall henceforward consist of themes and extracts from the Classics. A special examination for students of political economy, lately authorised, has been shown to be productive of evil, and is therefore abolished. It is the wish of the Throne that these public examinations shall be in reality a sound test of merit. Examiners and candidates alike should avoid meretricious adornments of style, and endeavour to conform strictly to the classical models. We desire, of course, that studies of a practical nature should be continued, but these had best be conducted under the guidance of local officials. It is certainly desirable that agriculture, and the promotion of industrial and commercial enterprises, should be placed on a more effective basis of organisation, but owing to difficulties of inter-communication and voluminous correspondence, it is inadvisable that these matters should be centralised at Peking. Let Bureaux be established at the various provincial capitals, and let a beginning be made at Tientsin, as a test case and an example for the rest of the Empire. The Peking Bureau is hereby abolished.”
Souvent femme varie, and the mind of Tzŭ Hsi never ran consistently for long in the same groove. Anxious always as to her popularity with all parties in the State, and with a view to adjusting that nice equilibrium of conflicting forces which constituted the pride of her statecraft and the strength of her rule, we find her next issuing a Decree which set forth the principles by which she professed to be guided. This Decree reflects a certain amount of anxiety and a doubt as to whether the punishment inflicted on the leading reformers might not be severely criticised by the outside world. Her Majesty therefore decrees:—