Alliance with Church the corner-stone of French conquest—Persistence of French ambitions in the Far East—Protectorate of native Christians—Its abuse by the propaganda—Forcible erection of cathedrals in Peking—Imperial family aggrieved thereby—Negotiations for removal of church from palace grounds—Mr Dunn's mission to Rome—Vatican to send a nuncio—French Government vetos—French minister vetos transfer of cathedral—Unless transaction placed in his hands.
The claim of France to protect Christians against the native authorities in the Far East constitutes the basis and the origin of her present political position in those countries. The propagation of the faith was, indeed, a recognised element in the adventures of other countries besides France; but she has, since the eclipse of Portugal and Spain, enjoyed the distinction of a working alliance with the Church in furthering the foreign domination of both. "Church and State, linked in alliance close and potential, played faithfully into each other's hands," says Parkman ('Jesuits in North America'). In the reign of Louis XIV. the kingdom of Siam was the object of their joint attention. A missionary bishop persuaded the most Christian king that to establish the Church in Siam and convert king and country to the Catholic faith would open an effectual door for the extension of French commerce. A century later another bishop persuaded another Louis to interfere in the affairs of Annam, and only the events of 1789 cut short an expedition that was being prepared of politico-ecclesiastical propagandism. Napoleon III. took up the cause, and actually effected the conquest of Cochin China; and Gambetta was so enthusiastic on the subject that, while persecuting the Catholics in France, he was ready to expend the forces of the Republic in protecting them in distant countries.
There is here, therefore, irrespective of persons or forms of government, an unbroken tradition, which furnishes a key to the successive operations of France in the Far East. Thus when she resolved to join England in hostilities against China in 1857 a pretext was ready to hand in the murder of a Catholic priest in the interior of the country, his presence there being a defiance of the laws of the empire. There has been flux and reflux in French policy, but no change in its direction; and though prudence has from time to time set limits to its full expression, the claim to a special representation of Chinese Christians has been consistently pursued as a cardinal object of the French military, naval, and diplomatic forces in the Far East.
The treaties of 1858 for the first time authorised travelling into the interior, and placed French subjects, whether missionary or not, who availed themselves of the permission, under the protection of their own country. But ever since the convention of Peking in 1860 it has been sought by indirect and unobtrusive means to assume the protectorate over native Christians as well. The interpolated clause in the Chinese, which was no part of the authentic French version of the convention, lent a certain colour to the pretension by seeming to recognise communities of Chinese Christians as legal units and fit subjects of international agreement between China and France. Nevertheless, "French interference between the Chinese authorities and the subjects of the empire of China has never had any treaty warrant or justification by the law of nations," wrote Sir Rutherford Alcock in the 'Nineteenth Century,' November 1886; and he added, "China has the remedy in her own hands, to a certain extent, by refusing to admit the pretension." The Chinese Government had long been alive to the danger, as its elaborate appeal to the reason of the Powers in 1871 amply testified, but its eyes were opened still wider by the lesson of the Tongking war. A disposition was thereafter evinced to withstand the claim of the French, and the action of Germany afforded sufficient support to the Chinese position, had the Government only had the courage and perspicacity to lean upon it. For in the Catholic propaganda were missionaries of German origin, who were not permitted to divest themselves of their nationality, but were made to apply for their passports into the interior not to the French, but the German, Legation in Peking. Had Italy and Spain been equally independent, the question of the French, or any other protectorate, could scarcely have been entertained without introducing the element of separate foreign nationalism into the constitution of the Christian communities in China, which would not, perhaps, have been agreeable to the views of the Catholic propagandists, for they naturally aspired to maintain their independence as a compact ecclesiastical organisation.
The dread of the French protectorate was much accentuated by the enforced restitution of ancient buildings, the most conspicuous examples of which occurred in the city of Peking itself, and even within the area of the imperial palace. The sites of three ancient churches being claimed by the French Minister, the emperor's Government was compelled to violate its sense of justice by evicting the existing owners. The original building of one of the three was found practically intact, though hidden by the houses built round and against its walls. These of course had to be cleared away, regardless of the rights of their occupants. The interior fittings and decorations of the church had disappeared, but, strange to say, much of the wood carving and other ornaments were gradually recovered from the old-curiosity shops, where the parts not destroyed had, by the instinct of the Wardour Street craft, been preserved, begrimed with the dust of a hundred years and hopelessly unsaleable. By patiently collecting these disjointed fragments and piecing them together like a Chinese puzzle, the Fathers were able gradually to restore the church to something like its original state, so that it became itself an interesting relic of the golden age of the Jesuits in Peking.
The other two churches had been demolished, and the sites converted to secular uses, requiring some ingenuity to identify. When these sites were, under the new dispensation, cleared of superincumbent buildings, churches were erected as much exceeding the original as the glory of the Jewish temple, rebuilt after the Captivity, excelled that of the former house. The restrictions imposed by the Government on the style of the buildings, the last vestige of power which they dared assert, bore lightly on the astute constructors of the new churches. In deference to a common Chinese objection, perhaps partly superstitious, to lofty structures overlooking them, a limit was set to the height of the new buildings. But remonstrances after completion were easily disposed of by the pious Fathers inviting the objectors to go and measure the towers! The Chinese seem to have the same constitutional dislike of a demonstration that they have to a straight line or a right angle, and a challenge like this never failed to put them to silence. As to their neglect to exercise their right of supervision during construction, the shortest way to characterise it is merely to say it was Chinese. The same kind of negligence also allowed roofs of cathedrals, not in the capital alone, but in distant provinces, to be covered with yellow tiles, a colour reserved exclusively for imperial use. It is true the process was disguised, for the benefit of those who chose to be blind, by the tiles being whitewashed before being sent aloft, leaving to the slow action of the weather the gradual revelation of the imperial colour, which might then, indeed, be represented as the act of Heaven. Nothing is too transparent to deceive those who are willing to be deceived.
The cathedral around which the greatest interest centred, however, was the one which was erected within the palace grounds. The site had been granted by the great Emperor Kanghsi, the most imperial of the Manchu line, to the learned fathers who cured his fever by administering Jesuits' bark, then a new discovery, and whom he reckoned on attaching to his house by the favours bestowed on them. The new building was presumably erected on or near the site of the old, against the most urgent protests of the Court. Every inducement was offered to the French—larger and better sites, perhaps other compensations as well—if they would forego their demand for the resumption of the ground; but the French Government being set upon marking its ascendancy by a permanent sign, compelled the erection of the Pei-t'ang Cathedral on the spot indicated. The Lazarists, who had succeeded to the Jesuits in North China, had a kindly bishop at their head, who conceded much in the structure of the new building to soothe the feelings of the imperial family. Nevertheless, stunted as they were, from the point of view of architectural symmetry, the double towers of the cathedral were visible from the palace, and the two belfries commanded a view over a large part of the precincts. The building was therefore an eyesore to the inmates for twenty years, on the common ground on which it would have been offensive even to a provincial population, but still more as a staring monument of the deepest humiliation the dynasty had endured.[27] The empress-dowager bore the grievance, but not with resignation, for soon after the affairs of the empire assumed a settled aspect she urged her Ministers to find a way to get rid of the obnoxious building.
Monseigneur Delaplace had, in his former diocese of Chêkiang, rendered good service to the Government in opposing the rebels, for which he was granted high Chinese rank. Being dissatisfied with the action of France after the Tientsin massacre of 1870, he extricated his mission from the control of the French Legation in Peking, and from that date till his death in 1882 conducted its affairs in direct communication with the Tsungli-Yamên. Fully recognising how hateful his cathedral was to the Chinese, he co-operated with Prince Kung and Wênsiang in their efforts to remove it, and in 1874 he actually concluded an agreement with them to that effect. But the contract was vetoed by the French Government. The sore was thus reopened and continued to fester until 1881, when there was so much excitement in the capital that the Church and mission were thought to be in great danger. During the Tongking troubles the question of the cathedral was allowed to rest, but no sooner was peace assured than the Court again became restless, and with renewed urgency sought a remedy for its grievance.
The negotiations, which proved successful, were entered upon in an irregular manner, such as has characterised so many of the Chinese official acts. An Englishman in Peking, who had had business dealings with the Government, was asked one day by the confidential factotum of Prince Ch'un whether he could render assistance in the matter of the Pei-t'ang. The case was explained at length, and the foreigner, not being then aware of the negotiations of 1874, suggested, as the most obvious course, trying to make an arrangement with the Lazarist mission. The Manchu shook his head, to signify the futility of that proceeding. The enterprise thus seemed desperate, unless the Imperial Government should exercise its sovereign right of expropriation,—much too drastic a measure for any Chinese Government to attempt.
One hope only seemed to remain, a direct appeal to the Vatican. This led to a long conversation on the Papacy, and the Manchu official,[28] being a pious and even a learned Buddhist, became intensely interested in hearing much that was new to him respecting the position and prerogatives of the European Dalai Lama. Nor did the "great Western Saint," whose vicegerent the Pope claims to be, fail to evoke the deep reverence of both the Manchu and the Chinese who were present, so that one might be almost justified in appropriating words uttered on a different occasion,—they were "not very far from the kingdom" ruled by "the Western Saint."
But the interesting question was, How was the Vatican to be approached? By a qualified secret agent intrusted with the full confidence of the Chinese Court. The mission would be by no means easy, for should its object become known, it would be thwarted in advance from mere jealousy, if from no other motive, by Lazarist and perhaps other Catholic missions, so that access to the Supreme Pontiff would be blocked at the outset. The mission would also be certain to arouse the strenuous hostility of the French Government. After discussing the problem from all sides for three hours, the Manchu cut it short by the abrupt question, "Will you go?" "No," said the foreigner; "such an undertaking requires quite other qualities than any I possess. But," he added, after considering the matter, "I think I know the man who might carry it through." "Where is he? in Peking? Bring him here," were rapped out like musketry-fire, showing how urgent was the subject. The agent recommended to him was Mr J. G. Dunn, a man of genius and of varied accomplishments, a Catholic, and having an extensive personal acquaintance with the propaganda. He was at once invited to Peking, when another long conference ensued, and Mr Dunn was requested to draw up a memorandum on the whole scheme for the information of Prince Ch'un. After waiting some time for a response Mr Dunn left the capital, decidedly disappointed, for he was eager for a service so congenial to his character and feelings. Indeed had the mission been created for the man, or the man for the mission, the harmony between means and ends could hardly have been closer.
Several months elapsed before the question emerged again from official obscurity, and the manner of it is worth relating if only for the side-light it throws on Chinese methods. Li Hung-chang paid a visit to the capital in 1885, and soon after his return to Tientsin he requested his secretaries to find out where Mr Dunn was and to invite him by telegraph to come to see the viceroy. Not knowing why he was sent for, any more than Gordon did when summoned from India five years before, Mr Dunn came, and Li at once entered on the Pei-t'ang question, showing him his own memorandum on the subject. The affair having been placed by Prince Ch'un in the hands of Li Hung-chang to be carried through, Mr Dunn was promptly commissioned, and in concert with the viceroy's secretary, the very capable officer who now represents China at Washington, the emissary's instructions and credentials were drawn up. There were two separate instructions, and no little confusion was caused thereby.
On leaving China for Rome, Mr Dunn stipulated that a competent intermediary should be appointed to interpret his correspondence to Li Hung-chang, a duty which was intrusted to the commissioner of customs in Tientsin. The utility of this provision was soon made manifest, for when telegrams began to arrive from Rome, their purport was unintelligible, as they seemed irrelevant to the expropriation of the cathedral, which was Mr Dunn's special mission. Irritated by this apparent aberration, the viceroy's idea was to recall the emissary. But when it was suggested that the copies of his credentials should be first carefully examined the position became clearer. One part of his instructions was then found to be directed towards the question of the Christian protectorate, and Mr Dunn was, in fact, diplomatising with the Pope with a view to his appointing a nuncio or apostolic delegate to China to represent all the Catholic missions. The Chinese had not fully mastered this idea, and even Li Hung-chang, who has a wonderful memory, had forgotten the existence of the second section of his instructions, which no doubt Mr Dunn had drawn up himself. The Tsungli-Yamên, languid and bemused, hesitated to express any opinion, and assumed their habitual passive attitude. One person alone really grasped the importance of having the Church in China represented by the delegate of a Power "which has no armies or fleets wherewith to threaten or attack." The empress-dowager, when the nomination of Mgr. Agliardi was announced, and his coming depended on formal imperial invitation, sent the urgent message to the Yamên, "Get that man here; lose no time."
Mr Dunn's negotiations with the Vatican of course soon leaked out; notices appeared in the press; Mr Punch had his little joke that though there was evidently a good deal doing, the question was, Who was Dunn? The French Government took the matter up energetically through their Minister in Rome, and their diplomatic efforts having failed, they presented an ultimatum to the Pope which compelled him to cancel the appointment of his nuncio. France threatening to terminate the concordat, withdraw the subvention to the Church in France, and sequestrate its ministers, the Holy Father had no option but to submit. With tears in his eyes he deplored his impotence to respond to the invitation of China under such a truculent menace to "his children in France."
While these things were going on in Rome the transference of the Pei-t'ang Cathedral, which had been settled in principle through Mr Dunn, was then taken up by the Lazarist Mission, and the popular Père Favier was deputed by the Bishop of Peking to proceed to Rome and to Paris to obtain from the Vatican and the General of the Lazarist Order the specific authority to negotiate the transfer. Having brought back the necessary powers, a convention was shortly concluded between Bishop Tagliabue and Li Hung-chang. The Church made an excellent bargain, as it generally does: a new site of about thrice the area was granted close to the old on the opposite side of the broad roadway, and a bountiful compensation in money was made for the trouble and cost of removal. But after the agreement was signed the French Government interposed its veto so far as to insist on being the intermediary through whose hands the transaction should pass. France also, it was said, had previously essayed to marchander with China for her consent, but withdrew when it became clear that further obstruction might entail untoward consequences. To mark its satisfaction at the final solution of this question, the Chinese Government eulogised all those who had helped to bring it about, and bestowed high rank on Bishop Tagliabue and the Abbé Favier (now bishop).
This transaction supplied a crucial test of French policy and pretensions in China, the first concrete expression of both that had been obtained since the forcible restitution of Church property immediately after the capture of Peking. The coercion, indeed, was applied on this occasion to the Roman Pontiff and the Catholic Church rather than to the Chinese Government; but the latter were not so dull as not to see to what ulterior objects the French scheme might be extended, given convenient circumstances. They were, in fact, really alarmed, and the question was discussed with some warmth in the Chinese as well as in the European press. "The end is not yet," wrote Sir Rutherford Alcock; "China may be less open to intimidation than heretofore, and assert her undoubted right to refuse the recognition of an assumed protectorate over Roman missions, irrespective of the nationality of their members." The French press espoused the cause of the protectorate warmly, treating it as a most valuable national asset. The Chinese press took up the question in reply. Their view of the position was comprehensively summed up in a native newspaper in October 1886 in the following terms:—
It has been said by them of old time that when a man is found acting injuriously to his own family but benevolently to strangers his behaviour is unnatural, and there is something hidden under the cloak of outward kindness.
We have from time to time printed translations from various foreign newspapers on the subject of the relations between the Chinese Government and the Pope. Some days ago we reproduced an article on the same subject from the 'Temps,' a French newspaper of the highest authority. These articles all indicate that the French Government is greatly troubled at the prospect of losing what is called the right to protect Christians in China. This is a question which has not hitherto been much considered by Chinese statesmen. Those of them who have been in Europe, or who have studied political affairs there, know something of the importance of the issues which are covered up in that apparently harmless word "protection"; but it is hardly to be expected that the Ministers and statesmen who have scarcely travelled beyond the walls of Peking can realise the full significance of the phrase. Nothing is better calculated to quicken the apprehension of the Government on this point than the extraordinary excitement of the French Government, which insists on protecting the Christians in China whether they desire this protection or not. For now that the French have so plainly shown their secret designs, it would be impossible for China to acquiesce, by word or deed, in the pretensions which France sets up. It is rather suspicious that the French Government, the greatest enemy of Christianity, which is constantly oppressing the priests and confiscating their property in France, should be so intensely desirous of protecting Christians in China, where this protection is not required. A leading French statesman, Gambetta, who died a few years ago, left as a legacy to his followers the doctrine that the Church should be suppressed in France but supported in all foreign countries. Gambetta was a man who had no reverence for Heaven, and no religion, and seems to have regarded Christianity as a disease which he wished his own country to be rid of, but was not sorry to see it spreading elsewhere. It is necessary to keep these ideas in mind in order to understand the action of the French Government to-day.
It would be out of place here to discuss what Christianity is. Like Buddhism, it had a very pure origin, and the living principles of both are mercy, benevolence, and peace. But both religions have in course of ages been overlaid with doctrines and practices which have obscured the simplicity of their origin, and even changed their character. But the greatest misfortune to Christianity is that it has been made use of by princes as a pretext for wars of aggression. In fact, nearly all the wars of Europe for the last thousand years have been in some way connected with religion. This is sometimes made a reproach against Christianity, which professes to be founded on peace and self-sacrifice, but the reproach is scarcely just. Rather it is the peaceful character of Christianity which has induced ambitious statesmen to make use of it to work out their own designs, just as in private life unscrupulous men are sometimes enabled to carry out questionable plans by using the names of men of blameless character. We are only now concerned with the political aspect of Christianity, not its merits as a religion. The modern history of Turkey affords the best illustration of the danger of allowing foreign Powers to interfere in matters of religion. During the last hundred years Russia has several times made war on Turkey, always on the pretext of protecting Christians, and it is this which is fast breaking up the Turkish empire. It is interesting to observe that Russia and France follow the same policy in this matter. When the French Legation withdrew from Peking on the 2nd day of the 7th moon of the 10th year of Kwanghsu (22nd August 1884), the affairs of the Christians were transferred to the Russian Legation. The Ministers of the Tsungli-Yamên remember very well how eagerly the Russian Minister assumed the office of protector of Christians, going to even greater lengths in the way of protection than the French themselves had done. The reason for this is plain. Russia, although she has none now, expects to have by-and-by many Christians in Mongolia and Manchuria who may be extremely useful to her in her aggressive designs on China. Therefore the Russian officials, always looking very far ahead, were most anxious to establish a right of interference for the protection of Christians. And they could do this without reproach when they were acting not for themselves but for France during war-time; well knowing that, whatever position she succeeded in establishing for France, Russia could claim for herself when the proper time came. But the more anxious Russia and France are to assert the right of interfering with Chinese Christians, the more resolute China should be in resisting all such interference. The only safety for China is to treat Christians, whether Chinese or foreign, exactly as all other people are treated—to make no distinctions. Foreign missionaries have the right to travel and reside in the interior; they can exercise this right without getting passports from the French Minister. The Catholic missions are composed of men of all nations, but they all have Ministers in Peking to whom they can apply for passports. Let the Germans get their passports from the German Legation, the Spaniards from the Spanish, Italians, Belgians, and Hollanders from their respective Legations, but no European State has any right to arrogate to itself the position of protector of missionaries in general.
It is satisfactory to learn that the head of the Catholic Church is of this opinion, and although grateful to France for what she has done in the past, is now desirous of being free from French protection in the future. To carry out these views, the Pope is about to send to China a very high official to reside in Peking and perform the functions of a Minister. As the Pope has no troops and no territory, but is merely a kind of Dalai Lama, there is no danger to China from opening direct relations with him. The affairs of the missionaries can then be dealt with in an open and straightforward manner, as no fear of political traps will lurk behind. The Christians when they know they are no longer protected by a military State will understand that their security will depend on their own wisdom in avoiding offence. And the officials and people, on the other hand, will gradually learn that the Christians are only anxious to lead virtuous lives, without any political ambition, and they will respect them. The Imperial Government will then also be able to extend its favour to all Christians and missionaries without the fear of nursing traitors in its bosom. The missionaries have among them men of great learning and much skill in sciences, which the Emperor Kanghsi—who must always stand as the model for Chinese rulers—knew very well how to utilise. The present generation possesses men no less capable of rendering good services to China, and there would be no reason for not using them if the suspicion of their being agents of the French Government were once cleared away.
Notwithstanding so much clear thinking, however, the action of the Chinese continued, as before, nebulous. They seemed never able to seize the bull by the horns, but drifted on, allowing themselves constantly to be put in the wrong, hoping perhaps to accomplish by illegitimate means what was within their legal competence. Afraid or unwilling to control the provincial authorities, they allowed outrages to be perpetrated for which they refused redress until coercion was applied, thus affording to foreign Powers a not in all cases unwelcome pretext for extending their protection even to Chinese Christians. Within a month of the consummation of the transfer of the Pei-t'ang Cathedral, and after the Marquis Tsêng, fresh from Europe, had taken his seat at the Board, the Tsungli-Yamên had fallen into its chronic apathy with regard to Christians. A missionary named Bodinier arrived in Peking from distant Kweichow for the purpose of soliciting the intervention or intercession of the French Legation in favour of the persecuted Christians in that province. While he was on his journey the Catholics of Chungking in Szechuan were being similarly maltreated. Certain disturbances in that great commercial mart culminated in the attack on the house of a wealthy Christian family, which resisted the assailants, several of whom were killed in the affray. The magistrates, who had been supine during the time when the mischief was brewing, thereupon arrested the head of the Lo family and condemned him to death,—an exercise of authority which was held to be arbitrary, and invidiously directed against Christians. Here was an occasion when the Central Government should have taken prompt action, and so deprived the French Government of any pretext for interference. It was a moment when that Government was less apt than usual to put forth its power in the Christian cause. M. Constans was Minister in China, and he was personally not at all disposed to assume the protection of Chinese Christians. Nevertheless, the case being urgent, and the Tsungli-Yamên either cowardly or indifferent, M. Constans broke through the rule he had laid down for himself so far as to telegraph to Paris for instructions. The reply was prompt, doubtless inspired by the propaganda at home, to the effect that he should take up the case of Mr Lo. Thus the Chinese threw away a golden opportunity of showing to the world that the Chinese Christians did not stand in need of any foreign aid. An impartial investigation might have shown, indeed, that the Christians were the aggressors, and the local Chinese officials might have been vindicated from the charges made against them. But the Government's inaction constantly puts it in the wrong even when it may be substantially in the right. The same fatal course has been regularly pursued even to our day, with results patent to all.
Necessity for administrative and judicial control over British subjects—Consular courts—Supreme court for China and Japan—Personnel of the consular service—Functions of the diplomatic representatives—Absence of distinction explained by apathy of Home Government—Need of reform.
The frequent references throughout this work to the part played by British agents in the development of intercourse with China seem to call for a short account of the character and status of the official machinery which served for so many years as the principal working joint between the two opposed systems of civilisation.
The relations between Great Britain and China were necessarily at first experimental. The consuls appointed to the five ports were selected with no special training, and the chief superintendent, to whom they looked for guidance, was scarcely better furnished than themselves. Yet, as has been shown, the remoteness of the consuls from their chief, and of both from the Government they served, threw them much upon their own resources. How the demand for independent initiative was responded to by some of the individuals concerned has been incidentally noticed in previous chapters.
From the time when it assumed direct relations with China, the need of an effective control over British subjects resorting to that country weighed heavily on the British Government; for in exempting them from native jurisdiction the Government took on itself the responsibility for the good behaviour of its people. The exercise of this control was necessarily tentative, proceeding step by step as occasions arose. The unceasing solicitude of the Government for the orderly conduct of its subjects in China is testified by a long series of Orders in Council conferring on the consuls and their superintendent an almost despotic authority over the persons of the British residents. The operation of this arbitrary system was more satisfactory than could have been expected, thanks to the high character of the parties concerned and the common-sense which governed their mutual relations. In their double capacity, however, of protectors of Chinese and foreigners against the inroads of British subjects, and of the latter against the inroads of the Chinese, the consuls soon discovered that the one part of their duty was easy and the other difficult; and it is no matter for wonder, therefore, if, following the line of least resistance, some of them should have leaned to the side of repression rather than to that of the encouragement of their countrymen. This was noticeable even in judicial proceedings, where the consul was supreme over his own nationals, but had no authority over their opponents. Some check on the consequences of consular idiosyncrasies and defective legal knowledge was maintained by a supreme court in Hongkong, independent alike of the superintendent of trade and of the governor of the colony, to which court appeals lay from consular decisions. This prerogative of the colonial court was not unnaturally irksome to the diplomatic and consular servants of the Foreign Office, and was doubtless one cause of the coolness, not to say antipathy, with which the colony has generally been regarded by them.
The treaties of 1858 and 1860 were followed by a great development in all three services—diplomatic, consular, and judicial. Some years previously the China consular service began to be treated as a career for which special preparation was required, the entry being by competitive examination, through which a certain number of students were annually sent out to China, there to complete their education and then take their part in executive work. When additional ports were opened, therefore, making about twenty in all, in 1861, there was the full complement of qualified men ready to occupy the new consular posts, each of them competent to be his own interpreter. Diplomatic functions were at the same time withdrawn from Hongkong, where they had been merely nominal for eighteen years, and became centred in the Chinese capital. A few years later the judicial authority, so far as it related to the communities at the Chinese ports, was also withdrawn from Hongkong, and was conferred upon the Supreme Court for China and Japan, having its headquarters in Shanghai, established by the Queen's Order in Council of 1864. The new court was inaugurated by Sir Edmund Hornby, who brought to the work practical experience gained in the Levant, the assistant judge being Mr C. W. Goodwin, Barrister of the Inner Temple. This establishment has furnished a solvent for many of the difficulties connected with British residence in the Far East. Adapted with judgment to local circumstances, the court has proved of immense assistance to the consuls, who, subordinated judicially to the chief judge, could now obtain from him proper guidance in their difficulties, a facility of which they availed themselves freely.
Although a great advance on what preceded it, the Supreme Court could not of course escape from all the drawbacks which affected the consular courts. As between British subjects, it enjoyed the full powers of law courts in the mother country; but as between British subjects on the one hand, and the natives of the country, or non-British residents, on the other, the authority of the British court could only be exercised over the former. This one-sided action has been to some extent compensated in later times by the judicial qualifications of consuls representing other Western nationalities, who administer their own laws with the same impartiality as the British courts do theirs. But as regards the Chinese no such compensation operates, for although the treaties make provision for the judicial action of the Chinese authorities, their conceptions of equity and forms of procedure being wholly alien to those of the Western nations, their decisions seldom satisfy the foreign litigant. An attempt to supply a connecting-link between two radically different juridical ideals was made in the setting up of mixed courts for the purpose of dealing with petty cases between natives and foreigners within the settlements of Shanghai. These courts have been occasionally presided over by honest and competent judges, assisted by able foreign assessors; but as the native magistrates, being men of low rank, could always be overruled by the local executive, they lacked the power to make their decisions effective.
As it was impossible to set up a separate judicial establishment at each treaty port where there was but a handful of residents, the consuls had to continue to perform magisterial duty with all the inconveniences attending their double function. Efforts were made by the Home Government to minimise these disadvantages by infusing a modicum of legal knowledge into the service, for which purpose they offered inducements to consular officials who should qualify as barristers. Notwithstanding all this, however, the simple fact that a consul is bound in his administrative capacity to take a part in matters which may afterwards come before him as a judge perpetuates an element of incongruity demanding an uncommon degree of tact on the part of the official. Some of the worst consequences to be apprehended from this state of things are partially obviated by the judge or assistant judge of the Supreme Court going on circuit, when important cases in the consular districts require it; but that expedient is only possible at rare intervals.
The wisdom with which the Supreme Court has been directed is attested by the absence of incident in its history, and by the universal tacit approval of its proceedings. Its success, indeed, soon came to be accepted so much as a matter of course that the true source of it was forgotten. It was, however, recalled vividly to the public memory by a certain retrograde movement. After a quarter of a century of satisfactory working her Majesty's Government took a step which was equivalent to pulling out the corner-stone of the edifice—the absolute independence of the bench. In order to effect an economy in salaries, it was ordained that the two incompatible offices—the judicial and political—should be merged into one, making the chief judge consul-general, and the assistant judge consul for Shanghai. By this move the judges became subordinate to the Legation in Peking, and the Supreme Court itself was subjected to all the evils of the dual function under which the consuls had been labouring. Thanks to the exceptional qualities of the holders of the double office, no glaring scandal arose out of the unnatural combination; but the protests of the community, and of the incumbent of the two offices himself, were strong enough to induce the Foreign Office, after a few years' trial, to retrace their false step and restore the judge to his independence.
The twenty consular establishments in China on which the Select Committee of the House of Commons reported in 1872 were manned by forty "effectives on duty," besides a considerable contingent on furlough. The ten posts subsequently created employ on an average twenty more. Two complete generations of officials have passed through the consular mill in fifty years, which may be moderately reckoned at two hundred men, all of them selected by a competitive examination only one degree less stringent than that for the Indian Civil Service, and nearly all of them men of varied accomplishments. They have been placed in every part of the wide empire of China, and during their career have been shifted about so that every one has had chances of interesting himself in localities strongly contrasted with each other, both as regards official labour and personal recreation and study. From a body of highly educated men so situated, it was naturally to be expected that much enlightenment would be obtained concerning China and its people, and considerable progress made in the promotion of amiable intercourse between them and foreigners. These expectations have not been disappointed. In the period immediately following the peace of 1860 remarkable activity was shown by British consular officers. The names of Meadows, Markham, Alabaster, Oxenham, recall many exploits of exploration in the interior during very troublous times. Swinhoe, Baber, Hosie, Bourne, Spence, Davenport, Parker, have continued the work and greatly extended its area. Others have distinguished themselves in the held of literary research, and some have found their appropriate reward in honourable appointments in English universities. On the whole, there has been lack of neither energy nor capacity in the British consular service; and yet it is a matter of common remark, even by its members themselves, that in their primary duty of promoting and defending the interests of British commerce they have been unsuccessful. Treaty rights, they admit, have not been safeguarded at the Chinese ports, and this in spite of every apparent incentive to exertion in their defence. A distinction, however, must be drawn between an apparent incentive which is general and remote, such as the patriotic desire for the advancement of their country's interests, and those influences which are nearer and more personal. The attitude of the China consuls can only be fairly estimated in its relation to that of their chief, and his again in relation to that of the Home Government. "Like master, like man," is an adage which fits the case, and it is to Peking and to London we must look for the key to the character of the consular rank and file.
The British Ministers at Peking have been selected without any fixed rule. The first of the series was taken from the diplomatic circle. The succeeding three, whose term of office covered a period of twenty years, were chosen from among the veterans of the consular service. The next two were taken from the junior ranks of diplomacy, and the seventh was a military officer from Africa. The appointment of Sir Robert Hart in 1885, which was cancelled by his wish, afforded further illustration of the extreme catholicity of the Government's elective faculty.
The witnesses examined before the Select Committee of the House of Commons in 1872 were unanimous in insisting on the necessity for long and special training for the office of consul in China, and this principle has been strictly followed by the Government. But for the higher post of superintendent of all the consuls the Government has, at least since 1885, acted on the theory that no such qualification is necessary. But the task of a Minister to China is by no means an easy one. It may be left undone, or it may be done so badly that it were better not to be done at all, but to discharge the duties of the office in a creditable manner requires not only high training but large capacity. The Minister has to conduct his own diplomatic duties in the capital, in which not the Chinese alone but all or nearly all his foreign colleagues are openly or secretly thwarting him. He has at the same time to direct the proceedings of twenty or thirty officers placed at great distances, whom he has never seen, and every one of whom is superior to himself in the knowledge of the conditions to be dealt with. For such a duty it is obvious that an officer sent from Europe must be incompetent, the circumstances of the service in China differing essentially from those prevailing elsewhere. The new incumbent, unless he were a born genius, could never get beyond the elementary lessons of experience before, overtaken by promotion, he shakes the Chinese dust off his feet for ever. Much might of course be learned by personal observation at the consular ports and conference with local officials and people in the provinces, but it is somewhat singular that this obvious source of intelligence has been taken advantage of almost exclusively by those of the British Ministers who stood the least in need of it. Indeed the only one of them who made it a rule to visit the treaty ports at intervals was Sir Rutherford Alcock, whose long experience convinced him of the necessity of constantly refreshing and extending his knowledge of local circumstances and people.
A service dispersed over such a large area as the Chinese empire, carried on by despatches between parties who were strangers to each other, and one of whom at least had no personal knowledge of the subjects treated, must have been characterised by an absence of reality, and must have tended more and more towards a perfunctory routine. For this, however, the system of appointing Ministers who were strangers to the country was not wholly responsible. Long before the Ministers were so selected the secretaries began to be sent from European schools, and thus the consular service, disheartened by inadequate pay and a constant menace of further diminution, saw the few prizes of their profession withdrawn from their reach. To serve his time quietly, therefore, to earn his pension and retire without a stain on his character, became more or less the consular ideal. Ambition was starved among those who had to bear the burden and heat of a thirty years' residence in China, when they saw good posts thrown away upon men imported for two or three years, who were almost useless, and who themselves deplored their enforced idleness. The disadvantages attending these exotic importations have been often insisted upon. An old member of the consul staff comments upon it in the following practical manner:—
In every country administered by the British Crown, or at every Court at which there is a British representative, the administrator or envoy has from the moment of his entering on the duties of his office the assistance of an experienced staff, well versed in the local history and traditions, or finds himself in the midst of a society the language and usages of which are familiar to him. In China, where we have been fighting and negotiating for over fifty years, we are not so fortunate. A Minister proceeds there, and on his arrival finds himself in a new and to him unknown country, the staff which he may bring with him being like himself utterly unacquainted with the East and its peoples. The Minister is obliged either to grope his way unassisted, or to rely on the aids and advice of experienced (but not always disinterested) outsiders. Under these circumstances his only wise course is to put himself entirely in the hands of the permanent local staff, which, for this purpose, means the Chinese Secretary. That officer, the real motive force of the Legation, occupies a position of greater importance than that of the nominal head of the mission, but, with an irony which is not uncommon in Government administration, he is the least appreciated member of the staff. His salary is that of the junior ranks in the consular service, and yet it is to him that the seniors in that service look for instructions which he is incompetent to give them: the result may be imagined. Why should these things be? The Indian Government has in its service many men of brilliant attainments, and of knowledge gained in long years of service in the East, who might be called upon to fill the post of Minister which would be suitable and congenial to them. And there is an abundance of choice of junior Legation officers in the well-trained consular service. Would it not be very advantageous if the working hands in the Legation were chosen from the most competent Chinese scholars in the consular service?
Considering their initial qualifications, their social standing, and their great opportunities, it must be admitted that the men of distinction who have emerged from the consular service during the last fifty years seems disproportionately small. It is perhaps invidious to mention names in this connection, but in response to inquiries addressed to veterans in the service, four men only are placed in the first rank as the best representatives of the consular training school. These are Sir Harry Parkes, Mr T. T. Meadows, Mr H. N. Lay, and Mr W. F. Mayers. Sir Robert Hart, it should be mentioned, left the service so early, and Sir Rutherford Alcock joined it so late, in life, that their distinguished careers can scarcely be claimed as the product of the consular nursery.
It is impossible to look back over the forty years which have elapsed since the new relations were established in China without being struck by a certain change which passed over the character of the diplomatic and consular services between the first decade of that period and the second. The anxious years of the rebellion evoked much active energy on the part of British officials. The serious opposition to the operation of the treaties was met by very vigorous action on the part of the consuls at the ports and of the Minister at the capital. The years 1868 and 1869 may be considered to have marked the culminating-point of the British official effort to enforce observance of the treaties in letter and spirit, and to protect all commercial interests. The change which came over the diplomatic and consular services at the end of the first decade of diplomatic relations may be likened to the rising followed by the receding of a tide. Up till the years we have specified, whatever the difficulties which beset their office, the consuls showed earnestness in the defence of the interests confided to them, and acted on the conviction that their exertions were pleasing to those who were set in authority over them. Their sense of duty was sustained by the hope of distinction. After 1869 the discovery was made that the situation had been undergoing a change of which the service had been unaware. What was formerly deemed a merit had become a demerit in consular officers, and on this discovery zeal naturally fell to a discount. It was but a reflex of the change that had crept over the spirit of the British Foreign Office, a change which also had escaped notice until circumstances forced it into publicity. This seems to have originated with the removal from the scene of Lord Palmerston, the statesman who for forty years had stood in a general way for what was manly and straightforward in the British national character. Though he left a tried and trusted colleague, Lord Clarendon, in charge of the Foreign Office, and a sturdy permanent Under-Secretary, perhaps the last custodian of the Palmerstonian tradition, and who remained at his post for five years longer, yet it was made evident by results that the spirit which had animated that great department of State had vanished. The Foreign Office became nerveless and invertebrate, sentimental and unstable. Those who had to do with it in the time of Palmerston, Layard, and Hammond know that since their time the officials bearing the same titles have been of quite another calibre, have been swayed by different influences, and above all have exhibited no such knowledge of the affairs with which they had to deal as their predecessors of the Palmerstonian era. Many explanations may be given for the new departure without disparagement of the capacities of the individuals concerned. Such explanations interest those who may desire to promote reform in the constitution and the inspiration of the Foreign Office. It suffices us merely to note the fact by way of accounting for some of the shortcomings which have been laid to the charge of our representation in China. We have seen how easily one Foreign Secretary yielded to the meretricious solicitations of the envoy Burlingame, and how another allowed himself to be cajoled by the Marquis Tsêng. After these, and sundry other such, exhibitions it was impossible for any Minister serving the country in the Far East to place the old reliance on the support of his Government. With John Bright, the implacable opponent of Palmerston and his works, installed at the Board of Trade, whose word was law on such matters as Chinese commercial treaties, and apparently more anxious to undo the work of Palmerston than to promote a trade which both he and his department unaffectedly despised, it was not likely that the commercial communities trading with China should cherish any hope of redress of grievances from a Government whose face seemed set against them. Apathy, therefore, became the principle, to keep the peace at all sacrifices the avowed policy of British diplomacy in China. The apparent exception to this rule in the attempted reclamations in connection with the Margary murder in 1875 afforded in its abortive ending a new corroboration of the rule. The diplomatic and consular establishments went on grinding out routine despatches and publishing statistical reports, but with the tacit understanding that whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil. Under such conditions it was of little consequence how the Peking representation might be filled, since it has not for thirty years risen above the level of comedy, the term applied to it by those who have grown old in its service.
Such was the situation of affairs when the greatest crisis in the history of China, or of foreign relations with that country, was sprung upon the world in 1894. A Legation equal only to clerical routine suddenly called upon to play a part in a commotion which unhinged the policy of the world was totally inadequate to the strain, and as a consequence of the impotence of the Foreign Office and its agent in China, the interests of Great Britain and, what was only second in importance, the interests of the Chinese empire were allowed to go by default. The Chinese were, and perhaps even still remain, unconscious of the reasons of the collapse of their empire. Perhaps something of the same kind might be said of the British Foreign Office in regard to the interests of Great Britain in China. Certainly there is as yet little sign of a determination to reform the mechanism of the country's representation, and this, perhaps, because the preliminary step thereto would be the reform of the Foreign Office itself. And so the Legation goes on under the nominal headship of a Minister who must be guided entirely by his Chinese Secretary, an official of inferior rank and position to the body of consuls whom he has to control, and for whose authority they can never have genuine respect.
The recent upheaval has offered many new opportunities of distinction for the consuls, especially in the interior of China. That these openings have infused new life into the consular ranks has been shown in many ways during the last few years; and if natural selection be allowed to operate freely and the best men be not discouraged in their efforts for their country's benefit by undue interferences from Peking, where there is neither knowledge nor capacity to guide them, it is still possible that the consular service may play a valuable part in the reconstruction of the foreign relations of China.