The Chinese may bow to our power, but it does not inspire them with the least awe. They entertain for us about the same agreeable sentiment that the traveller does for the footpad who suddenly puts a pistol to his head and demands his money or his life. And as this same ill-used traveller, in order to avoid a repetition of the assault, if he has to pass that way, procures the same arms as his aggressor, so the Chinese now and again appropriate some of our weapons of defence without knowing how to use them; but, nevertheless, they remain thoroughly convinced as to the superiority of their civilization. There can be no doubt that if they were left to themselves, and European influence and pressure suddenly ceased, the Chinese would quickly pull up the telegraph-poles and the few miles of rail which with infinite patience and trouble have been laid, close their ports, and efface every trace of the detested innovations of the ‘barbarians.’
This would naturally be the act of the Government. As to the people, it will continue to use the facilities introduced by Western civilization. The boats which ply along the coasts and up the Yang-tsze-Kiang are crowded with native passengers, who apparently enjoy the trip, and who pay the better share of the profits made by the various steam navigation companies, and the trains between Tien-tsin and Peking are always crowded. The Chinese also know perfectly well how to appreciate European administration, and three hundred thousand Chinese live upon the French, English, and American concessions at Shanghai, two hundred thousand at Hong-Kong, which was only inhabited by a few fishermen before the English occupation, and all the large towns belonging to the European colonies in the vicinity of China—Vladivostok, Manila, Saigon, Singapore, Batavia—are practically Chinese towns. They like to have their property and their commercial interests protected, and strongly object to being exploited and harassed as they are under their own Government. At the time of the occupation of Manchuria by the Mikado’s troops, an English missionary who had long resided in the country assured me that the Chinese were very glad to escape from the ‘squeezee’ system, and from the many vexations to which they had been subjected by the mandarins, and were amazed to see the Japanese pay for everything they required.
The Chinese are not, therefore, unappreciative of our civilization, and since we afflict them with our presence, they think it wise to profit by the material advantages which we have introduced among them; but, with few exceptions, doubtless they would prefer the loss of these advantages to our company, and they never cease to despise us. From the moment that they can read they go to their old books as to a fountain-head, whence they drink intoxicating draughts of pride and vanity, and of profound contempt for all that is not of the wisdom of Confucius.
After all, it is not by means of the ignorant classes, but through the initiative of a few thinkers, that progressive ideas gradually filter into a country and reform it. Unluckily, in the Chinese Empire, owing to a defective system of education, the very class which ought to benefit their fellows—the literati—is precisely that which is the most obstinately retrogressive.
The gross superstitions, too, which are entertained by the people in the interior of China against foreigners form another barrier to an advance movement. That the lower classes should believe that the missionaries pull out the eyes of little children and use their bowels as the ingredients of infernal and magical concoctions, or that our doctors spread the pest whenever we want a war, is not much to be wondered at, for the same things have been repeated in Astrakhan and in some of the Russian provinces whenever there has been a rumour of an epidemic. But what is really very grave is that the literati, who are so all-powerful in China, foster these superstitions, and even spread them broadcast among the people in order the better to keep up the feeling of hatred which they ought to attenuate. At the bottom of all the risings against the missionaries are the mandarins and the literati. The great influence which these men exercise over the people, and their abhorrence of Western civilization, is the real cause why no progress has hitherto been made in the Chinese Empire.
CHAPTER VII
THE POSITION AND WORK OF FOREIGNERS IN CHINA
The privileges of foreigners in China—The open ports and the concessions—Great extension of privileges granted to foreigners by the treaty of Shimonosaki (1895)—Opening of fresh ports—Facilities conceded to commerce, and the right of establishing factories in the Treaty Ports—The speedy effects of these concessions—Silk industries—Chinese workmen: rise in their salaries—Prospects of Chinese industry—Fresh concessions granted in 1898—Opening of the waterways—Railways and mines—Great expectations resulting from these additional treaties—The likins, or native Custom-houses—Their oppressive exactions—Slow development of foreign commerce in China—Necessity for Europeans to penetrate into the interior and take their affairs into their own hands—Chinese resistance to this proposal.
Foreigners who live in China, with the exception of the missionaries, are at present penned up in the twenty-six open ports, to which may be added six other towns or markets, situated on the frontiers of Indo-China, assimilated to the free ports, but doing a very limited trade. In each of these so-called open ports[[26]] spaces have been let on long leases, or even sold to foreign Powers—England, France, the United States and of late years even Germany, who has acquired a concession at Tien-tsin, where, by the way, Japan also has one. Although these concessions are on Chinese territory, they are considered as so many small republics, independent of the native authorities, and administered by Europeans, who reside there under the protection of their Consuls, who hold both judicial and executive powers. In these ports, protected by European law, is concentrated the whole foreign commerce of China.
The appearance of these treaty ports varies according to their importance, from the few houses surrounded by walled-in gardens, built on the sands of Pakhui to the flourishing cosmopolitan port of Shanghai, whose aspect is admirably calculated to flatter the vanity of Europeans. Once the bar of Wusung is passed, after some hours’ journey down the Blue River, whose shores are covered with monotonous rice and cotton fields, the traveller might easily imagine that he was in Lancashire, so great is the number of factory chimneys that come into sight. The landing-place, or Bund, the principal thoroughfare of the town, which follows the quay, is lined on the one side with trees, and on the other by magnificent houses, built in the European fashion, the offices of the principal banks, steamship companies, etc. The other streets, inhabited by Europeans, although not very straight or broad, run either parallel to the Bund or else meet it at some point or other. Further inland is the Chinese quarter (within the concession), with its open shops, monstrous and gaudy signboards, and its fragile paper lanterns, fairly well kept, however—thanks to European supervision—and forming a marked contrast in this respect to the other native quarter beyond the concession, which is absolutely filthy. Once outside the town, we cross the cricket-field, the racecourse, the lawn-tennis court, and reach Bubbling Well Road and other wide avenues, fringed with the beautiful villas, surrounded by gardens, belonging to the wealthy European residents.
Before the Chino-Japanese War foreigners only had the right to carry on their commercial undertakings in the open ports, and had to have a passport in order to travel in the interior. Isolated as much as possible from the native population, they could traffic with the Chinese only on the condition that they never attempted to alter any of the native methods of production, or introduced any European innovations, or endeavoured to exploit a single one of the innumerable natural resources of the country.