“I went to Nankin predisposed to receive a favourable impression; indeed, the favourable impressions of a previous visit to Suchau led me to undertake this journey. I came away with my views very materially changed. I had hoped that their doctrines, though crude and erroneous, might notwithstanding embrace some of the elements of Christianity. I found, to my sorrow, nothing of Christianity but its names, falsely applied—applied to a system of revolting idolatry. Whatever there may be in their books, and whatever they may have believed in times past, I could not escape the conclusion that such is the system which they now promulgate, and by which the character of their people is being moulded. Their idea of God is distorted until it is inferior, if possible, to that entertained by other Chinese idolaters. Their willingness—if indeed they are willing to receive Christian missionaries among them—is doubtless founded upon a misapprehension of their true character. They suppose that the missionary will prove an instrument which they can bend to suit their own purposes. Exceptions might, perhaps, be made in favour of individuals: it is of those who hold the reins of power that I speak.

“The city of Nankin is in a ruinous condition. It would be no exaggeration to say that half the houses have been destroyed. The country around is not half cultivated. Provisions are very scarce and expensive. Their trade is very limited. We observed instances in which workmen were compelled to labour without compensation. All indicates a policy that has little regard to the welfare of the people, or to any interests other than those immediately connected with war, and with the indulgence of their rulers.

“The present state of their political affairs would indicate that Hung-siu-tsuen’s career must close before the present dynasty can be supplanted. His horrible doctrines, which have served to break down every distinction between right and wrong in the minds of his soldiers, and send them forth to perform every enormity without remorse, have secured him the lasting hatred of the masses of the people. The scenes of internal discord which so nearly proved their destruction a few years since, would doubtless be enacted again, and upon a large scale, when, with their enemies vanquished, they came to a final division of the spoils.”

And if any farther testimony were necessary, we might, in the pages of the last Blue-Book for 1862, cull evidence enough to convince the most sceptical that the people, as well as the Government, are hostile to the robbers who pretend to be inaugurating a new rule.

This Taeping movement has never had at any time a national character. It has not been joined by any influential class. The Taepings have never organised any sort of government, and they have never held any ground but that on which their camps stood. Had they shown any disposition to gain the suffrages of the Chinese people, already dissatisfied with their mandarins, their chances of subverting the dynasty would have been great. They have not done so, and the consequence is, that the popular feeling is strongly against them. Hear, for instance, what thirty-two of the representative elders of the districts between Soochow and the Yang-tsze river say in a petition to our Minister, and then decide on which side our humanity should be enlisted:—

“Living to the east of the river, we have the misfortune to be visited by the murderously ferocious rebels, who have burnt our dwellings, carried off our people, dishonoured our wives and daughters, robbed us, and murdered innumerable of us, till the land is covered with corpses, and the roads run with tears and blood. We ourselves have suffered so in our persons, and our families overwhelmed with bitterness, refugees from our homes, that there is no name for our misery; our lives can scarcely be called our own. It seems that not one of us will escape. In desperation, therefore, we piteously implore the Minister, that in his great goodness, surpassing all things, he will pity us, and speedily rescue us, and will despatch his energetic soldiers to sweep the abomination out of the land, that our death may be turned to life, our gratitude be unimaginable; and unless his goodness does rescue us, there will be no escape for us, and the people and property on the east of the river will be destroyed, and the land left a desert, without hope of recovery. We implore him, therefore, the more earnestly, that millions of the poor people are lying, leaning on each other, in this deep snow, in misery unspeakable, waiting for his will.”

Could any words be more expressive? And it is not only the Imperialists who suffer, but there are tens of thousands who have joined the Taeping ranks from compulsion and to save their lives. These poor creatures are, if possible, more to be pitied than any other class. They stand between two fires,—the sword of the Taeping and the Imperial executioner. On their behalf we ought as soon as possible to place the Imperial Government in such a position that an amnesty could be safely granted, or arrangements made for allowing these compromised people to emigrate to Borneo, the Straits settlements, to Burmah, and elsewhere. The compromised might embark with their wives and families, and in less populated regions found colonies as creditable to their mother country as they would be profitable to European civilisation and commerce. This would be a triumphant solution of the Taeping difficulty; and we feel justified in hoping that the Court of Pekin may be persuaded to temper justice with mercy, inasmuch as one of its highest officers has recently recognised the evils of over-population, and legalised emigration from the provinces under his jurisdiction.

Our collision with the Taepings has been denounced as if it had been sought by the British authorities in China. But this is by no means the case. In 1858, when Lord Elgin ascended the Yang-tsze, the escorting squadron was deliberately attacked, although the smallest vessel was sent considerably in advance with a flag of truce flying, and a person was expressly sent in her to afford every explanation of our Ambassador’s motive in desiring to pass Nankin.

Both then and subsequently the Taeping chiefs were told that we entertained no hostile feeling towards them, and that so long as they respected British property we should be strictly neutral. In spite of these warnings and the promises of their leaders, the Taepings, not satisfied with the sack of the great cities in the districts around Shanghai and Ningpo, actually attacked our settlements. Necessity has compelled us to act upon the defensive. We had to drive them from the neighbourhood; and in order to prevent their starving out the vast numbers of Chinese who had taken shelter in Shanghai, we had to mark certain limits within which we would not suffer their presence. Such is the history of our “war” against the Taepings. Troops have been sent for from India, and Shanghai and Ningpo are virtually under the protection of the British and French forces. As a temporary measure this may answer, but it is beset with inconveniences and risks if prolonged. Temporary protection, as our Indian experience abundantly teaches us, leads to permanent occupation, and ultimate absorption of territory. The foot of a vigorous European nation, once placed firmly on the soil of an Eastern state, cannot be withdrawn.

Yet the present state of China leaves us no alternative. There are other important considerations upon which our space forbids us entering, but there is one we will allude to in passing—the evils inflicted upon the country by the influx of adventurers now swarming thither, who are amenable to no law, with no fortunes or characters to lose, but abundance of appetite to acquire. The misdeeds of these miscreants are a great obstacle to friendly intercourse with the Chinese people; and to watch and keep them within bounds, the operation of a high and powerful police is absolutely necessary. Our trade and property must be protected by some Power, or be sacrificed. How that protection shall be afforded is the problem to be solved.