Chapter XX (1)

SIR RUTHERFORD ALCOCK IN PEKING, 1865-1869.

I. THE BRITISH LEGATION.

Contrast between Peking and Yedo--Finds old comrade Wade--The
Manchu statesmen, Kung and Wênsiang--Material progress pressed
upon them--Their failure to appreciate foreign advice.

Sir Rutherford Alcock had spent only a few months in England when he was appointed to succeed Sir Frederick Bruce as Minister to China, he himself being succeeded in Japan by Sir Harry Parkes. Sir Rutherford reached his post in Peking at the close of 1865. The change of scene from Japan back to China was even more striking than that from China to Japan had been in 1859. The excitement of shooting the rapids was succeeded by the weariness of meandering among mud-shoals--the same medium to work in, only under different conditions. Fundamentally the international problem was identical in Japan and China--the conflict between aggression and resistance. Rational dread of, and natural repulsion to, foreigners, inspired alike the policies of both countries. Where they differed was in the manner of meeting the invasion. Japan braced herself nervously to the effort, and, distinguishing between what was feasible and what was not, organised a counter-invasion unsuspected by foreign nations, whom she subdued by their own strength. China, on the other hand, opposed a fatalistic and unreasoning resistance, making no intelligent counter-stroke and showing no true anticipation of the issues of the struggle. The energy of ambitious youth on the one side; on the other mere inertia, irresponsive to the stimulus of pride, shame, patriotism, or even material interest. Bearing this contrast in mind, we may partly understand the prosaic _rôle_ which foreign representatives were doomed in China to play from the time the capital was forced open by Anglo-French arms in 1860.

The position of the new British Minister was different from that which he had occupied in Japan, where, being first in the field, he had to make precedents, whereas in China he had to follow the course which had been marked out during the previous four years. In judging of the wisdom of that course, it is fair to apply the same retrospective criterion that we proposed in the case of Japan--namely, to consider the situation so far as it was known and could be realised at the time. Notwithstanding all that had gone before, China in general, and Peking in particular, remained as great mysteries to foreigners as Japan itself. The pioneer diplomatists had to create their diplomacy out of their own consciousness, working upon an idea which they imported, and not on the objective facts, which were mere chaos to them.

Sir Rutherford Alcock had the happiness to find the Peking Legation in charge of his old vice-consul, Thomas Wade, from whom he had been officially separated for ten years. Mr Wade was Chinese secretary and secretary of Legation, offices which were some years later separated, to the infinite detriment of both. For the secretary of Legation, drawn from the ranks of the diplomatic service, had neither knowledge of nor interest in Chinese affairs, nor aught to do but wait idly for the contingency which might make him _chargé d'affaires_, reckoning every month spent in the country as a penance entitling him to swift promotion to a more congenial sphere. And the Chinese secretaryship, by itself, offered no attraction to an ambitious man. But in 1865 the combination of offices was most important, especially in the hands of a man of so much distinction as Mr Wade. As the custodian of the Bruce tradition, if indeed he had not a large share in its evolution, he bridged the gulf between the outgoing and the incoming Minister, much as the Permanent Under-Secretary does at the Foreign Office.

As Mr (afterwards Sir Thomas) Wade, in the capacity of secretary, _chargé d'affaires_, and Minister Plenipotentiary, represented Great Britain at the Chinese Court for the best part of a quarter of a century, a term equal to that of the other six Ministers put together, a brief reference to his personality seems necessary to a just comprehension of the course of affairs during his long residence in Peking.

Mr Wade began life as a soldier. He had been in the "Black Watch," but, being the only officer who could not speak Gaelic, found it congenial to exchange into the 98th Regiment, with which he served in China during the first war. He was adjutant of the regiment, which was commanded by Colonel Campbell, afterwards Lord Clyde. When peace was made in 1842, he resigned his commission and betook himself to the study of Chinese and of Chinese subjects. After qualifying as interpreter he became Chinese secretary to the Superintendency of Trade, which until 1858 was domiciled in Hongkong. Transferred to the consular service, he was for some years interpreter and vice-consul at Shanghai, where it fell to his lot to command the local volunteers in the attack on the Chinese Imperial camps in 1854. He was the first executive head of the Maritime Customs, established in the same year, his services being lent by his chief to start the new institution. Attached to Lord Elgin in his two missions to China, he was appointed secretary of Legation and Chinese secretary under Sir Frederick Bruce when the Legation was installed in Peking.

Wheresoever Mr Wade's lot was cast he was beloved for his Irish geniality, open-mindedness, and sincerity. He was the soul of honour, and was possessed by the spirit of chivalry much beyond the common measure. His best friends would never wish to forget his endearing infirmities of temper, associated as they were with the generous _amende_ which never failed to follow an over-hasty word. A well-read man, with a memory like Macaulay's, a brilliant _raconteur_ and inimitable mimic, he was the delight of every society. The services which he was enabled, by many years of arduous labour, to render to succeeding generations of students of Chinese are incalculable, and if his work begins now to be superseded by that of others, this is but the common fate of pioneers in every department of research.

Sir Thomas Wade's character may thus be fitly and fairly summed up in the hackneyed epithet, "a scholar and a gentleman,"--but not therefore a statesman. His mind was cast in another and a finer mould than befits the political arena; and, unnatural as the inference may seem, it is open to question whether his extensive knowledge of China was the best qualification for dealing at first hand with current affairs, even in that country. Profound researches into Chinese literature and philosophy tend to overshadow and induce a distaste for the jarring questions of the day. Seen through the luminous haze of its classic history, China presents to the contemplative mind an object of reverence unlike any other existing State, for the thread of its continuity since the time before Abraham is unbroken. Grander than hewn stone or graven bronze, the monuments of China are written books, and a living race, the heirs of all her ages, to be conversed with and interrogated. The burden of such vast homogeneous antiquity may well oppress the mere man of politics: he needs a certain alloy of Philistinism and a limitation of view to enable him to concentrate his attention on the exigencies of the passing hour.

Relations which might be called intimate had been established between the two Manchu statesmen, Prince Kung and Wênsiang, and the foreign representatives. When these high personages were forced to assume responsibility for international relations, they were not only unversed in foreign affairs but untrained to any kind of business. The work of the six Boards was carried on by expert secretaries, and the presidency of one of them would have been no qualification for the new duty thrust upon the emperor's Ministers of transacting business with foreign officials standing on an equality with themselves. Their older colleague, Hangki, had gained a little foreign knowledge by observation and hearsay while filling the lucrative office of _hoppo_ at Canton; but the two younger men mistrusted him, perhaps with reason, possibly from the suspicion naturally aroused by his possession of superior knowledge. Prince Kung and Wênsiang recognised that they had everything to learn, and they were apt and eager scholars. Considering all the circumstances, it is indeed marvellous how they adjusted themselves by innate tact to the novel position, and how quickly they assimilated new knowledge. Many illuminating discussions were carried on between them and the foreign representatives, who on their part were no less desirous of imparting than the Chinese were of acquiring information respecting the outer world. In these interesting symposia Mr Wade naturally played the prominent part. On the enchanted ground of Chinese history and literature, also, the interlocutors made endless excursions together; and Chinese philosophy being directed to conduct rather than speculation, it was possible to deduce from the teaching of the sages authority for the adoption of almost any useful measure. Between the modern innovator, therefore, though in foreign garb, and the ancient moralists there was no such intellectual disagreement as sympathetic explanations could not resolve.

It might have been justifiable to conclude that the Chinese were being influenced for good by the well-meant counsels so copiously addressed to them, were it not that the tutorial being so entirely incompatible with the diplomatic function, no useful result could be expected from their strained combination. It was as if one were to teach a novice the moves in a game which the two were at the same time playing for serious stakes.

These interminable interviews and voluminous memoranda were wholly unproductive, owing, no doubt, to the fact that the ideas of the parties ran on parallel lines destined never to come to any point of fertile contact. The burden of the cry of the Western people was "progress," a word without equivalent in the language, and expressing an idea which had no place in the conception of the Chinese. Incessant repetition with varying illustrations were to the Chinese as flowers of rhetoric wasted on a deaf man, and that simply because the basis of the Chinese political thought lay at the opposite pole from that of the European. On one occasion a distinguished American promoter was expatiating to the governor of Formosa on the advantages of railway communication, his most telling example being his own experience in being rushed along after an early breakfast from his house in Albany to New York, where he spent the day transacting important business and got wheeled back again to Albany for dinner. The governor stopped him, and asked what in the name of sanity possessed him to lead such a wearing life, as the last thing he (the governor) would dream of doing would be to live a hundred miles from his work. Though the earliest public advocate of railroads in China, the governor regarded their utility from a far different point of view.

So eager were the foreigners for progress, which in their mind included the regeneration of the Chinese empire and the development of its full capacity for self-defence, that they were wont to rejoice over the slightest indications of a beginning being made. Thus the mission of a man of no standing as a secretary of the Tsungli-Yamên, who was sent to Europe in 1866 to take observations, was hailed as the beginning of the new era, and commended so warmly by the foreign Ministers to their Governments that the emissary was received like the Queen of Sheba by King Solomon, and shown--at least in Great Britain--everything that was admirable from the Western point of view. He was as far, however, from appreciating the triumph of science as was Cetewayo, the Zulu, whose admiration of England focussed itself on the elephant "Jumbo" at the Zoological Gardens, or the Scotswoman who, after being shown over the British Museum, had carried away from it one impression, and that of the "graund mat" at the door. The Chinese Government's appreciation of Western progress was by no means increased by the mission of Pin, which rather indeed produced a contrary effect. China soon began to put forth fresh claims to go her own way, her own way being directly opposed to the kind of progress which was being pressed upon her.

The Chinese in following the doctrines of the sages felt they were under the guidance of Heaven, so that innovations appeared to them tainted with impiety. So deeply did the worship of the past pervade their field of thought, that when high officials ventured to introduce something new, they usually endeavoured to disarm opposition by gilding their proposals with well-selected texts from the classics.

II. FOREIGN LIFE IN PEKING.

Social influence of the Alcock family--Sir Rutherford's relations
with his staff--No social relations with natives--Manchu
courtesy to English ladies--Community of foreigners sociable yet
non-cohesive--Description of city--Foreign residency--Objects
of interest--The streets--Mules--Camels--Mongol market--Fur
sales--Absence of regulations--Street anecdotes--Summer
residences.

By the end of 1865 the foreign life in Peking, official, social, and private, had already settled into the grooves prescribed by local conditions, within which it has, more or less, run ever since.

Nevertheless, the advent of Sir Rutherford and Lady Alcock, with their daughter, now Lady Pelly, introduced an element into the social atmosphere of Peking which has afforded the happiest reminiscences to those who came under its influence. We have seen that Sir Rutherford Alcock, by force of character, conviction, and sense of duty, naturally assumed the lead among his peers wherever he happened to be placed. A German resident in Peking at the time we are speaking of says, "I remember very well that fine English gentleman, who was conscious of representing the greatest country of the world, and did it well." The official personality of the British Minister could not be more truly depicted than in these simple words; but this natural pre-eminence extended far beyond the official sphere, and made itself felt for the general good in the common relations of life. His dealings with subordinates were marked by thoroughgoing loyalty; his rule was to give his confidence without reserve to those who merited it, to support and defend them in the discharge of their duty. He was accessible, always ready to listen to the opinions even of his juniors, and though exacting as regards work, he never spared himself, but set an example of industry to those who served under him. He possessed that rare faculty of appreciation which enables a man to command services which no money could buy. The survivors of his staff to this day speak of him in affectionate terms as the best of chiefs. In business he was strictly, perhaps even rigidly, formal, and his manner was intolerant of laxity in others. When the official crust was put off like a suit of armour, the genial depths of his nature were reached, but the number of those who enjoyed this experience seems never to have been large. Select, but few, were the friends of his bosom.

The foreign residents in Peking did not number many, and, with the exception of the Legations, were rather widely scattered over a city of vast distances. The original community consisted of about sixty persons, distributed over the four Legations, the customs' staff, and missionary establishments. It was a community of young men "about twenty-four years of age," eminently social, no member being a stranger to the rest, and all living in friendly intercourse. The Legations may almost be said to have sat with open doors, so easy were their interchanges of informal visits. During the time of Sir Rutherford and Lady Alcock their hospitalities rendered the British Legation the chief centre of social interest, while the unaffected kindness which inspired these courtesies endeared its inmates to all their fellow-residents. That, indeed, was the golden age of the British Legation, and, it may be added, of the general social life of the Chinese capital, a period when life-long friendships were formed. The time had not yet come for international rivalries to mar the cordiality of personal intercourse. Indeed in the convivialities of Peking national distinctions were absolutely lost, and so to a great extent were the distinctions of rank. On the racecourse, which was early instituted, as in the billiard-room, picnic excursions, and the like, all were free and all were equal.

When we speak of the "social" life of Peking, it must be understood as referring exclusively to that of the foreign residents among themselves, for between them and the natives there was no such intimacy. But in those early days the high Chinese officials seemed to have been more genial than those of a later epoch. In the winter of 1860-61, for example, Hangki, formerly _hoppo_ of Canton, was in the habit of receiving Mr Adkins familiarly at his private residence,--a practice which was afterwards gradually discontinued. The arrival of the two ladies at the British Legation was the signal for a display of courtesy by the Manchu Ministers, who from time to time sent them seasonable presents of plants, flowers, and other things, thus establishing agreeable personal relations with the Minister. That the advent of ladies to the Legations should have evoked the natural politeness of the high officials need not be a matter for wonder if it be remembered that the Chinese contempt for women is not shared by the Manchus. It is well known that their women are free from most of the trammels which contract the lives of their Chinese sisters. Their unbound feet symbolise liberty of locomotion generally, and they show themselves unveiled and unabashed in public thoroughfares. They have the coquetries common to the sex, among which may be reckoned a passion for floral decoration of the head, and the universal practice of painting the face and lips. This is done in a thoroughgoing manner, and as if the paint were "laid on with a trowel," leaving a sharply defined margin on cheek and neck between the pink and white and the sallow ground on which the colour is overlaid, giving it the appearance of a mask which might be easily removed. Even young children are subjected to the cosmetic treatment; and the very aged do not discard the artificial flowers in the remnant of their hair. As the fairest Chinese have no such natural colour as is thus imitated, it is rather difficult to divine whence they derived the notion of an ideal human skin.

It is not to be wondered at that the first European girls who appeared in Peking should have excited some curiosity. One young lady, probably the first arrival, whose fresh and fair complexion suggested the acme of the cosmetic art, excited intense interest among the Mongol and Manchu ladies. On one occasion she was met in the street by a great princess, who was so struck by her appearance that she stopped her _cortège_, alighted from her cart, and stood before the English girl and gently rubbed her cheeks to find out, as she naively said, how the colour was put on!

The foreign residents at Peking, happy as their circumstances were, lacked some of the principal elements of a community properly so called. They had, in fact, little in common besides their æsthetic culture and their Christian civilisation, the literature, philosophy, and the social tenets of the West. They had no head, no centre, no neutral meeting-ground even except the racecourse and the open fields, and were thus always either hosts or guests to each other. The assumed identity of their high political interests gave an appearance of solidarity to the diplomatic section; but the fusion of the other elements in the society was far from complete, and, in short, outside of the region of recreation and conviviality the residents could not be said to be animated by any unifying purpose, nor to have any communal existence. Individual isolation prevented the aggregate from attaining collective force.

These sterilising conditions were aggravated by another feature of the situation which had an important bearing on social life. Peking was one of the most inaccessible capitals in the world. The great tourist-stream passed it by. It stirred no human emotion unless it were languid aversion or inarticulate curiosity. The dilettante element which has ventilated Japan so well and kept her in constant touch with cosmopolitan life-currents has been absent in Northern China. Peking with its particular concerns has been thus permitted to lie secluded from the world, neither generating fruitful ideas nor inviting or profiting by their importation from without; nor, in short, making itself intelligible or interesting to mankind other than as an archaic curiosity. China, with its immense wealth and resources, weighed less in the consideration of the nations than the petty kingdom of Greece or the deadly swamps of Africa. Considerations of that kind help to explain the bewilderment with which the action of these neglected forces has been received during the past few years, and the disarray of the organs of European opinion when suddenly called on to deal with the phenomenon of Peking as a daily "headline."

* * * * *

Of the city itself it may be noted that it is magnificently laid out within high and massive walls, the gates and corners surmounted by bastions and imposing towers pierced with three tiers of gun-ports. The main streets are straight and extravagantly wide. Spaciousness is the dominant expression of the whole--the back-yard is a feature of the meanest one-storeyed hovels. It has not occurred to the Pekingese to economise earth-space by vertical architecture ground-ward or sky-ward. Viewed from an elevation, the city has the appearance of a vast park: the tree-foliage seen in perspective seems to cover the whole area, only picked out by yellow and green roofs of imperial and other conspicuous buildings. The palace, a city in itself of 10,000 inhabitants, occupies an immense _enclave_ symmetrically placed in the centre of the whole.

From such a coign of vantage as the high wall affords, Peking presents at once an impressive and a pleasing spectacle. It gives the distance necessary to lend enchantment to the view. The soothing hum of a great population; the sweetness of an atmosphere untainted, if it be summer, or spiced by the aromatic herbs which grow promiscuously between the interstices of the bricks, if it be autumn,--enfolds the scene in that kind of soft drapery which memory throws over common things long past. One lingers, loth to renew a closer acquaintance with the crowd below, which no longer hums but utters wild discordant cries,--with the horrors of the streets, which are of the earth, earthy. The area contained between the rectilinear arteries of the city is dismally laid out on the plan of the rabbit-warren. These wide streets are alternately deep mire and deep dust at the best, but at the worst, receptacles of indescribable abominations. The witty and wise Bishop Favier, when describing these to a friend in France, was asked, How could a population living in such insanitary conditions resist a visitation of cholera. "Cholera!" exclaimed the Father; "it could never enter. It would be asphyxiated at the gate!"[12]

The dust is acrid to nose and eyes, from the dessicated refuse of generations, for the streets are watered by long scoops from standing pools of sewage which overflow in the summer rains and obliterate the roadway, so that animals harnessed between shafts not unfrequently meet with a cruel death by drowning in these fœtid thoroughfares.

Such hints as these will be sufficient to suggest to the least imaginative that peculiar unattractiveness of the Peking streets which has been a determining factor in the habits of the foreign residents. Life would be intolerable to Western folks if it were not removed from the sights, noises, and odours of the streets; and fortunately the ruling local principle of spaciousness lends itself to the solution without running counter to any native practice or prejudice. The Legations, the customs, and the missionaries are in their various degrees established in "compounds" large enough to accommodate the members of their staffs in separate buildings with ample elbow-room, as in an Indian cantonment, interspaced with trees and sometimes gardens, the whole surrounded by a high wall and capable of defence. These seductive oases in a wilderness of garbage, in a city of great distances, naturally conduce to stay-at-home habits and to segregation, which it requires some energy to overcome.

Nor is Peking life wanting in more mundane compensations. The city itself contains many "objects of interest," which in the earlier years of foreign intercourse were open to the curious. The well-known "Lama temple," reputed to contain 2000 inmates, which has for many years been dangerous to enter, was in those days a much-frequented resort, where the stranger was welcome to go over the establishment and listen to the Buddhist litanies: a certain bass voice, or perhaps a succession of bass voices, in the choir, indeed, attained celebrity among foreigners. In the refectory of that monastery one was obliged, out of respect, to eat, or feign to eat, the unmitigated fat of the sheep's tail, fished from out the broth, not with a hook, as was the custom in the Jewish Church, but by the deft fingers of the chief lama. Now, on the contrary, the foreigner who enters the gate is hustled, robbed, and stoned. This great change in the attitude of the lamas has never been satisfactorily explained, but it is presumed that the manners and customs of some of the visitors to the temple may have had something to do with it. There have been visitors who, with the keen acquisitiveness of the world-tourist, have slipped small "josses" into their pockets out of what, perhaps, appeared to them the superfluous number of molten images ranged round the shelves of the great Buddha's sanctuary.

The Temple of Heaven, too, that grand altar to the Living God, standing in an immense park enclosed by a lofty wall, was then, and for many years remained, open to all comers. This was perhaps due less to any intentional liberality of the authorities than to the negligence of the gatekeepers and the Board of Works. For a long time access was gained over a broken part of the outer wall left unrepaired. At one period English residents played cricket within the vast enclosure; at another Billingsgate and brickbats were the ordinary salutations which greeted the would-be visitor--the change being probably due to the slow awakening of the officials. So with many other places within and without the city, for in some cases where direct request was made for extension of the accommodation, the effect of drawing official attention to the subject was to restrict the privileges which had actually been enjoyed.

Notwithstanding the occasional rudeness of which Dr Rennie has given us so faithful a picture, the most unartistic of men could hardly fail to take pleasure in the daily traffic of the streets, provided only his nerves, visual and olfactory, were not too delicate. The true lord of the roads is apt from his commonplaceness to be overlooked by those who owe him most--that universal conveyancer, the sagacious, tireless mule. He does not belong to the "five great families"--the fox, weasel, hedgehog, snake, and rat--which the Chinese hold in mystic awe because they have learned the secret of immortality; but if utility to man were a criterion of merit, they would surely fall down and worship this indispensable hybrid. Hot or cold, wet or dry, the mule never fails to respond to the severest call upon his strength and courage.

With the approach of winter an antediluvian rival is introduced upon the scene, in the shape of the well-known two-humped camel, which is then shaggy, dignified, and in really grand form. Intolerant of heat, but impervious to cold, the camels, after passing the summer on the grass-lands of the Mongolian plateau, are brought down in droves to the great fair held on a large open space outside the Northern Wall. The coming of the camels with their bronzed and heavily booted riders is like a whiff of the free air of the desert. The Pekingese use this patient but surly beast of burden chiefly for carrying coal from the mines in the Western Hills to the city; but immense numbers are employed in transporting tea from the navigable limit of the Peiho to Siberia and Russia, not entering Peking city at all.

A roomy encampment between the British and Russian Legations is allotted to the Mongols, and serves as a market-place where the products of the desert are exchanged for the utensils and gewgaws of civilisation. The staple of the Mongol trade is frozen meat--mutton, venison, furred and feathered game; and without refrigerator or other appliance the carcasses remain fresh in their skins till the end of the three winter months. These simple-minded herdsmen, chaffering with shrewd Chinese hucksters, or sitting, where they seem to have been born, between the high humps of their slow-moving beasts, form picturesque groups in the imperial city, the more interesting that their appearance is pathetically suggestive of an order which is passing away. The Grand Khan, dispensing favours to his loyal tributaries, has come ominously near to being a mere tradition. These very sheepskin-coated camel-drivers are the only buffer remaining between the receding empire and the advancing tide of foreign encroachment from the north.

Other evidences of that imperial grandeur which lent some justification to the title "Middle Kingdom" were still occasionally to be met with. Though Siam, and even Burma, had fallen indefinitely into arrears, dust-begrimed embassies from Korea or Nepaul, with their trains of pack-mules bearing tribute and merchandise (duty free for the benefit of the officials), might still be seen defiling through the massive gates of the city, preserving to our day a living picture of the Asiatic mission of the antique type. For what were they but interesting survivals, shadows of departed greatness?

Peking is not a commercial city, but essentially an imperial camp. Trade proper is confined to an outer or Chinese city, which is but a walled-in suburb sparsely built over. Through traffic, for obvious fiscal reasons, shuns the capital; but there is sufficient local commerce, of which gold and silver smelting forms a not unimportant part, to support many bankers and merchants who are domiciled in the outer city. It has been remarked that Chinese trade may be seen at its best in the settlement of Maimaichên, which faces Kiachta on the Russo-Chinese frontier, or in the Straits Settlements or Rangoon, where nothing hinders the merchants from accumulating and displaying their wealth. Even Peking, however, affords some glimpses of the far-reaching enterprise of the Chinese traders.

What a suggestive display, for instance, is the fur-market, also of necessity a "winter exhibition"! Acres and acres of ground are covered with skins of every conceivable species of quadruped, spread out from dawn till near noon. Here are daily laid out for sale under the blue sky (and what a light to make purchases in!) the commonest and the most precious furs from Manchuria, the Amur, and even Kamtschatka, the total value of which must be enormous. Let us learn from the history of the Hudson's Bay Company what organisation of energy, what confidence, what variety of enterprise and skill, are required to bring these costly commodities from such vast distances to this great sale-room, and we shall not make light of the vitality of the Chinese.

* * * * *

The amenities of the street traffic, though not of special importance, call for mention as illustrating certain phases of foreign contact with the Chinese. If we may take Japan for comparison, in nothing is the contrast between the two systems more apparent than in municipal administration. The antithesis may be expressed in one word,--in Japan, excessive regulation; in China, absence of regulation. Whether there be any rule of the road in China is of little interest, seeing that, like other rules, it might be disregarded and there would be no one to enforce it. The traffic adjusts itself with little friction. China employs no police,--things arrange themselves by their own interaction, as the pebbles do on the sea-shore; and for most of the purposes of life the people are their own law-makers and their own executive. The Chinese system of government is to govern as little as possible--to let the country rule itself. So when a strange element demanded accommodation in the busy streets and congested gateways of Peking, without rules or supervision, it had to find its level among the rest by friction and concussion. It would have been an interesting process to watch in its initial stages. Amid a good deal of clamour and language of a racy description applied to man and beast and their respective ancestors, there is rarely a serious road quarrel among the Chinese. One excellent custom of polite society tends to restrict the area of disputes on the highway, leaving collisions to be fought out by grooms, carters, chair-bearers, or boatmen, as the case may be, while the masters maintain an imperturbable reserve.

Mr Colborne Baber, who had a way of his own of solving the minor problems of Chinese intercourse, was once in a cart, sitting well back and unobserved, in a narrow street that admitted neither of turning nor of passing another vehicle, when a cart was met about half way. The drivers began to vociferate, each calling on the other to give way. The opposition carter claimed the precedence on the ground that his vehicle carried women, and it looked as if he would gain his point when Baber himself, becoming impatient, thrust out his head and called out that in his cart there was a foreign devil, and without further discussion the rival jehu backed out.

Those who ride do not recognise each other on the road, even though they be friends; for if they did so, etiquette would require both to stop and dismount and go through formal salutations on foot. Foreigners, ignoring this rule, and their servants not unwilling to profit by the prestige of their masters in accosting bystanders from the saddle, are sometimes grievously misdirected when not lectured on their bad manners. The natives on their part are seldom averse from presuming on the foreigner's ignorance of what is due to him. Between the one and the other, or as a result of the mere chapter of accidents, collisions were inevitable in the streets. How were they to be dealt with in the absence of constituted authority? If aggression towards a foreigner on the part of a great man's servants were submitted to, there would be no end to it, they being 500 to 1. On the other hand, insolence promptly resented and vigorously punished never failed to elicit the approval not only of the spectators, but even of the great man himself, who perhaps had secret grievances of his own against his lackeys, which he was not sorry to see partially paid off by proxy. In all cases the sympathy of the Chinese goes with the side that successfully asserts itself. Of this hundreds of examples could be given--perhaps not one on the converse side.

A writer in the 'Whitehall Review' some years ago, among interesting reminiscences of the 'Sixties, relates some incidents to show the primitive means by which equilibrium was established between natives and foreigners in the Peking streets. _Place aux dames._ The experience of the first foreign female who had been seen is thus amusingly told. Mr Bruce's housekeeper, an old family retainer who had followed the fortunes of her master all over the world,

saw no particular reasons for not acting in Peking as she had
done in Cairo or Constantinople, and the first morning after her
arrival sallied forth, basket on arm, to do her marketing for the
day. When I add that she knew not a word of Chinese, that none of
the natives spoke English, that she was about five feet high and
ten feet round the crinoline, and was the first female European
ever seen by the Pekingese, her enterprise will be judged to have
been braver than she knew. However, nothing daunted, she entered
a butcher's shop, closely pressed upon by an inquisitive and
delighted crowd. Before she could even look at a joint or chop
she was hemmed in, and one waggish native, bolder than the rest,
gave her a substantial dig in the crinoline, shouting in Chinese,
"Let's see if she's solid." But the laugh was not for long on his
side. Seizing a chopper from the block, Mrs A. made a mighty blow
at his head, which he happily evaded. In less than a second the
shop was clear, the terrified natives tumbling over each other
in their haste to get away. A European who came upon the scene
at the moment beheld the startling sight of some 500 Chinese
rushing up the principal street pursued by an infuriated old woman
armed with a chopper. With some difficulty she was persuaded to
abandon the chase and resume her basket, which she had dropped
in her excitement. But it is on record that for a good two years
thereafter Mrs A. was allowed to shop in peace, and became a
"Black Douglas" to troublesome Chinese children in the vicinity
of the Legation.

In later years she talked in what she called "broken China."

Another "adjustment to environment" is thus described:--

A curious little industry sprang up in the environs of the city,
consequent on the horsey proclivities of the Europeans. This was
getting run over, which was generally accomplished by rushing in
front of the horses and throwing the hands up. One of two things
always happened. Either the horse shied and the rider came off, to
the huge delight of the Chinese mob, or the gesticulating party
was knocked down. In this latter event, cautioned as we all were
to give no offence, if possible, to the natives, a dollar was
generally handed as salve to the artful victim, whose screams and
yells that he had been killed never failed to draw a large and
sympathising crowd of friends, who regarded the "foreign devil"
with most unfriendly looks. In one village at last it became
intolerable, and we decided if any further attempt was made we
would run down the culprits intentionally. As usual, on our next
visit three or four young _gamins_ essayed the usual dodge. Being
fully prepared for it, nobody was unseated, and we turned our
horses back at full gallop, three or four Chinese being hurled
into the hedge by our horses. We did not stop to offer dollars,
but were never afterwards stopped.

Following the same train of reflection, he gives examples of the drastic manner in which the Russians asserted their prerogatives on the road, which we do not quote, as they were probably exceptional cases.

The never-failing courtesy of the Manchus rises superior to such unpleasant encounters. An example of this was related to the writer by a member of the British Legation. In riding through a narrow place, narrowed probably by the cesspool occupying more than its fair share of the street, he met the _cortège_ of a grandee at a spot where it seemed impossible to pass, and it looked as if the solitary horseman must turn back. As he thought of doing so he observed the occupant of the sedan call a halt and direct his bearers to make room for the stranger. Observing closely the features of him who showed so much consideration for a foreigner, the Englishman was pleased, some time afterwards, to recognise in him Prince Ch'ing, who succeeded Prince Kung as President of the Tsungli-Yamên in 1884.

The lives of the foreign residents were by no means confined within the four walls of the city. The environs without fences or trespass notices make charming excursion-grounds for riding-parties. For longer expeditions there are the never-failing attractions of the Ming Tombs, the Great Wall, the passes into Mongolia, and various other distant points. The city is beautifully situated in the centre of a mountain crescent, whose nearest point is thirteen miles distant. The first object of quest when the Legations had been established was a sanatorium or summer retreat--for the thermometer reaches 100 Fahr. in June--and the Western Hills were explored. Some of the most beautiful spots there are occupied by Buddhist temples or monasteries, whose builders have shown as nice a taste in the selection of their sites as their brethren the monks of the West have always done. These religious houses, laid out with a view to the accommodation of pilgrims and strangers, are regularly used by Chinese grandees as health-resorts or shelters from political storms. The Russian mission, while it was alone in Peking, had set the example twenty years before of resorting to the hill temples in the dog-days. Arrangements with the priests for the occupation of certain portions of one of the temples were soon made by Mr Parkes, who was on a visit to the capital, and ever since 1861 official Peking, with one notable exception, has on the approach of summer migrated bodily from the oppressive atmosphere of the great city to the exhilarating air of the Western Hills. The social life of the city was reproduced at the temples, but in a less conventional form, every one residing there being considered on a holiday. The country round offered many temptations to excursions, and amateurs of geology, botany, and natural history were never at a loss for something to interest them in their rambles among the hills. Residence so far from town brought the foreigners into friendly contact also with their rustic neighbours, whose innate good qualities, moderation, contentment, and kindliness were displayed in a very favourable light.

But the sojourn at the hills also brought the foreigner into occasional contact with Chinese of high rank, who welcomed such opportunities of showing civility to the strangers. At other times disagreeable collisions with the retainers of a great personage were experienced. So popular were the temples of the Western Hills as a summer resort that they were always full, and consequently disputes about accommodation were liable to occur, especially when some grasping priest would let the same premises to two different occupants, leaving them, or rather their servants, to fight for the possession.

III. THE FOREIGN CUSTOMS UNDER THE PEKING CONVENTION.

Centralised in Peking--Encouraged by British Ministers--Assumed
imperial form after the treaties of 1858--Extension to all the
ports--Original international basis becomes purely Chinese--Shows
capacity for larger functions than collection of duties--Becomes
a diplomatic auxiliary--British Government leans upon it--The
Chinese faithfully served by it--Interpreter of the intentions
of the foreign Governments--Inspector-General gains influence
over British Minister--Pleases Board of Trade--And maintains
confidential relations with British Government--While remaining
faithful to China--Services rendered by the Customs to all
commercial nations.

It was a source of unmixed satisfaction to Sir Rutherford Alcock, on assuming office in Peking, to find the maritime customs, the bantling of Shanghai, firmly established in the capital and gathering strength and influence. As its functions pertained exclusively to trade, Sir Frederick Bruce had been originally of opinion that the inspector-general should be located in the commercial centre, Shanghai, and he took exception to the institution being domiciled in Peking, where trade was expressly excluded by treaty. Sir Frederick, however, soon saw reason to modify his views. When it began to appear to him that the customs might prove a convenient auxiliary to the diplomacy of the treaty Powers, he cultivated the institution and encouraged it to occult activity in the political sphere. Sir Frederick Bruce's interests in the fortunes of the customs, however, could never be so ardent as that of its parent, Sir Rutherford Alcock, and its monthly nurse, Mr Wade. The presence of these two in the British Legation afforded a fresh guarantee of the prosperity of the customs, which they were both well satisfied to see in the competent hands of Mr Hart. For as the institution was a creation without precedent, the form of its development must be largely influenced by the personal qualities of its head. Whatever character it might have assumed under its original inspector-general, Lay, it could hardly have been the same service that has grown and spread under the directing hand of Sir Robert Hart. It is impossible to dissociate the Chinese customs as it stands from the vigorous self-sustained intellect that has moulded and still controls it, for it is assuredly not such a going concern as can be made over to any new head without the risk of changes more or less organic.

The story of the first decade of the maritime customs was told clearly, briefly, and modestly in a monograph which Mr Hart prepared for Mr Bruce in 1864, published as a Blue Book of thirteen pages (No. 1, 1865). Up to the date of the Tientsin treaty of 1858 the operations of the foreign collectorate were confined to the single port of Shanghai, the inspectors holding the appointment from the governor-general at Nanking, who was Imperial Commissioner for Foreign Trade. The new treaty gave the foreign Powers an interest in the Chinese customs which they did not possess before, because the war indemnities were to be paid by instalments out of the collections of duty, so that during the time when these payments were being made the maintenance of the machinery for collecting the duties was a matter of international concern. The new treaty also provided for a uniform system of duty collection for all the trading-ports; and then the institution assumed an imperial and dropped its provincial character, the inspector-general receiving his commission from the Central Government.

Considering that the mission of the foreign customs was to subvert time-honoured native systems, it was received with surprising graciousness at most of the trading centres. The first port to which the new system was extended was Canton, the leader in welcoming its advent there being the _hoppo_, the one functionary in the empire whose privileges seemed to be most directly threatened by the new-comer. By one of those anomalies which are so common and yet so inexplicable in Chinese affairs, arrangements for opening the office in Canton were carried on without interruption during the hostilities of 1859. Patience, tact, and resolution were nevertheless required to overcome the innumerable difficulties of detail incidental to substituting rigorous inspection and remorseless collection for the chaos of unaccountability which had previously reigned unchallenged. A very few years, however, served to reduce all obstruction, and to bring trader and official, foreigner and Chinese, into working harmony.

For the first time in history a true account was rendered to the Imperial Government, accompanied by a substantial revenue on which it could depend. Naturally the agency, though foreign, which yielded such tangible fruit, commended itself to the statesmen of the capital, who frankly recognised, as did the provincial authorities themselves, that the result obtained was wholly beyond the competence of any native organisation. Though, therefore, the customs service was essentially of a provisional, stop-gap character, it had on that very account a surer guarantee of permanence than could have been derived from any paper covenant by which the Chinese Government could have been bound, for that would have provoked disputation and evasion. The spasmodic attempt to formalise the service on a basis of international obligation which was made in 1898 was perhaps the first thing that really imperilled its constitution. In its origin, indeed, the foreign customs had been international, the three treaty Powers being each represented on the inspectorate; but with the expansion in 1858 this character was abandoned, and the customs became a purely Chinese concern operated by foreign employees, the staff being selected from among all nations indiscriminately, according to personal merit.

Almost from the time of the transference of the inspectorate to the capital the customs showed capacities of wider range than are comprised within the routine of a custom-house. Profoundly impressed as were the imperial statesmen with the value of the new revenue-producer, they soon began to perceive that the institution might be put to other and greater uses. Plurality of function in itself was no stumbling-block to them, for it is the system on which Chinese administration is carried on. In the very first year they had intrusted the inspector-general and his deputy with the organisation of a navy, with the evident approval of the British Minister. That functionary, indeed, seemed as little disposed as the Chinese themselves to see incongruity in the various forms of customs activity, especially when he regarded its extra official services as rendered to himself; and he really stood much in need of services of that kind.

Her Majesty's first representative in Peking, helpless and despairing, was, in fact, fain to throw himself on the support of the first inspector-general, Mr Lay, and then of his successor, Mr Hart, as having knowledge and influence with the Chinese Government which was not possessed by the British Legation. It did not apparently occur to Mr Bruce that such knowledge was strictly limited, and that the influence could be of very little use to him, and might be too dearly purchased. Having no other resource, however, he was perhaps not unwilling to shut his eyes to the false position in which he was placing himself in leaning upon the paid servants of the Chinese Government to assist him in carrying out a policy which was totally repugnant to that Government. The fidelity of both Mr Lay and Mr Hart to the master whom they served being beyond question, the diplomatic prestige conferred on them by the British Minister, as well as the knowledge and influence derived from the other side, must, in all matters of controversy, be thrown into the Chinese scale.

As this interesting truth dawned upon the minds of the Tsungli-Yamên, they saw in their English employee a providential instrument for drawing the sting from the threatening language which was sometimes applied to them by the foreign representatives. Of these, the only one who had as yet any serious matter to discuss with the Chinese was the representative of Great Britain. It was assumed on the British side that nothing proposed by that Power was contrary to the interests of China: so far, indeed, did this theory inspire their action, that the welfare of the Chinese seemed at times to overshadow that of their own empire in the minds of the British representatives. No doubt there was an ideal point of view from which the interests of China and her Western neighbours might seem ultimately to blend, but Chinese statesmen were in nowise able to take in such a large perspective. They continued to regard the foreign invasion, with all its pretences of goodwill, as an unmitigated calamity to be opposed wherever possible. No man can pronounce a certain judgment as to whether, with their imperfect knowledge, they were more right or more wrong in following their obstructive instincts. Reforms, progress, and the opening up of the country to foreigners, were being persistently pressed upon them; they fully expected these concessions to be demanded of them when the time came--and it was already drawing near--when the treaties should be revised. Admitting, moreover, that some one, or more, of the Powers might have been considerate enough to forego, or indefinitely postpone, advantages for themselves rather than imperil the wellbeing of the Chinese State, there were already six instead of the original three treaty Powers to be reckoned with; nor was there any limit to the further increase of their numbers. Supposing, then, that, relying on the benignant intentions of the English, they should, in the revision of their treaty, admit such innovations as inland steam navigation, inland residence, railways, and so forth, would not these successes stimulate the other Powers, when their turn for revision came,--France in 1870, Germany in 1871, and others later,--to advance still farther the outposts of the foreign invasion, each, in a spirit of generous emulation, striving to surpass the achievements of his predecessor; and all with the complacent consciousness that they were doing good to China? These endless contingencies were more than Chinese statesmen could cope with, and the apprehension of them had no other effect than to consolidate their resistance in small as well as in great things. They were learning to mistrust the efficacy of their ancient imperial policy of dividing and ruling, and with good reason had lost confidence in their capacity to distinguish in embryo between what was trivial and what was laden with deep consequences.

Resistance, therefore, tempered by the fear of force, seemed their only refuge. Some of the dangers ahead, of which they had glimpses, might have been obviated by a bolder policy; but being unable to formulate such a policy for themselves, and unwilling to accept it cut and dried from others, there was nothing left them but indiscriminate resistance. Under such conditions no harmony was possible between the Chinese and Western Governments; and not knowing how far they might with safety evade the pressure put upon them, the Chinese had recourse to the Inspector-General of Customs, as Louis XI. had recourse to his astrologer whenever he felt himself in a difficult crisis.