The theory of the Chinese government is undoubtedly the patriarchal; the Emperor is the sire, his officers are the responsible elders of its provinces, departments, and districts, as every father of a household is of its inmates. This may, perhaps, be the theory of other governments, but nowhere has it been systematized so thoroughly, and acted upon so consistently and for so long a period, as in China. Two causes, mutually acting upon each other, have, more than anything else, combined to give efficiency to this theory. The ancient rule of Yau and Shun[217] was strictly, so far as the details are known, a patriarchal chieftainship, conferred upon them on account of their excellent character; and their successors under Yu of the Hia dynasty were considered as deriving their power from heaven, to whom they were amenable for its good use. When Chingtang, founder of the Shang dynasty, B.C. 1766, and Wu Wang, of the Chau, B.C. 1122, took up arms against the Emperors, the excuse given was that they had not fulfilled the decrees of heaven, and had thereby forfeited their claim to the throne.

Confucius, in teaching his principles of political ethics, referred to the conduct of those ancient kings both for proof of the correctness of his instructions and for arguments to enforce them. The large number of those who followed him during his lifetime furnishes some evidence that his countrymen assented to the propriety of his teachings. This may account for their reception, illustrated as they were by the high character the sage bore; but it was not till the lapse of two or three centuries that the rulers of China perceived the great security the adoption and diffusion of these doctrines would give their sway. They therefore turned their attention toward the embodiment of these precepts into laws, and toward basing the institutions of government upon them; through all the convulsions and wars which have disturbed the country and changed the reigning families, these writings have done more than any one thing else to uphold the institutions of the Chinese and give them their character and permanence. Education being founded on them, those who as students had been taught to receive and reverence them as the oracles of political wisdom, would, when they entered upon the duties of office, endeavor to carry out, in some degree at least, their principles. Thus the precept and the practice have mutually modified, supported, and enforced each other.

But this civilization is Asiatic and not European, pagan and not Christian. The institutions of China are despotic and defective, and founded on wrong principles. They may have the element of stability, but not of improvement. The patriarchal theory does not make men honorable, truthful, or kind; it does not place woman in her right position, nor teach all classes their obligations to their Maker; the wonder is, to those who know the strength of evil passions in the human breast, that this huge mass of mankind is no worse. We must, indeed, look into its structure in order to discover the causes of this stability, inasmuch as here we have neither a standing army to enforce nor the machinery of a state religion to compel obedience toward a sovereign. A short inspection will show that the great leading principles by which the present administration preserves its power over the people, consist in a system of strict surveillance and mutual responsibility among all classes. These are aided in their efficiency by the geographical isolation of the country, a remarkable spirit of loyal pride in their own history, and a general system of political education and official examinations.

These two principles are enforced by such a minute gradation of rank and subordination of offices as to give the government more of a military character than at first appears, and the whole system is such as to make it one of the most unmixed oligarchies now existing. It is like a network extending over the whole face of society, each individual being isolated in his own mesh but responsibly connected with all around him. The man who knows that it is almost impossible, except by entire seclusion, to escape from the company of secret or acknowledged emissaries of government, will be cautious of offending the laws of the country, knowing, as he must, that though he should himself escape, yet his family, his kindred, or his neighbors will suffer for his offence; that if unable to recompense the sufferers, it will probably be dangerous for him to return home; or if he does, it will be most likely to find his property in the possession of neighbors or officials, who feel conscious of security in plundering one whose offences have forever placed him under a ban.

RESPONSIBILITY, FEAR, AND ISOLATION.

The effect of these two causes upon the mass of the people is to imbue them with a great fear of the government, both of its officers and its operations; each man considers that safety is best to be found in keeping aloof from both. This mutual surveillance and responsibility, though only partially extended throughout the multitude, necessarily undermines confidence and infuses universal distrust; while this object of complete isolation, though at the expense of justice, truth, honesty, and natural affection, is what the government strives to accomplish and actually does to a wonderful degree. The idea of government in the minds of the uneducated people is that of some ever-present terror, like a sword of Damocles; and so far has this undefined fear of some untoward result when connected with it counteracted the real vigor of the Chinese, that to it may be referred much of their indifference to improvement, contentment with what is already known and possessed, and submission to petty injustice and spoliation.

Men are deterred, too, as much by distrust of each other as by fear of the police, from combining in an intelligent manner to resist governmental exactions because opposed to principles of equity, or joining with their rulers to uphold good order; no such men, and no such instances, as John Hampden going to prison for refusing to subscribe to a forced loan, or Thomas Williams and his companions throwing the tea overboard in Boston harbor, ever occurred in China or any other Asiatic country. They dread illegal societies quite as much from the cruelties this same distrust induces the leaders to exercise over recreant or suspected members, as from apprehension of arrest and punishment by the regular authorities. Thus, with a state of society at times on the verge of insurrection, this mass of people is kept in check by the threefold cord of responsibility, fear, and isolation, each of them strengthening the other, and all depending upon the character of the people for much of their efficiency. Since all the officers of government received their intellectual training when commoners under these influences, it is easy to understand why the supreme powers are so averse to improvement and to foreign intercourse—from both of which causes, in truth, the monarch has the greatest reason to dread lest the charm of his power be weakened and his sceptre pass away.

There is, however, a further explanation for the general peace which prevails to be found back of this. It is owing partly to the diffusion of a political education among the people—teaching them the principles on which all government is founded, and the reasons for those principles flowing from the patriarchal theory—and partly to their plodding, industrious character. A brief exposition of the construction and divisions of the central and provincial governments and their mutual relations, and the various duties devolving upon the departments and officers, will exhibit more of the operation of these principles.