Various steps in the progress of China, and Japan in the adoption of
Western science and educational methods have from time to time been
noticed in these columns. To the popular mind the names of the two
countries are synonymous with rigid, unreasoning conservatism and with
rapid change, respectively. The grave, dignified Chinese, who maintains
his own dress and habits even when isolated among strangers, and whose
motto appears to be, _Stare super mas antiquas_, is popularly believed
to be animated by a sullen, obstinate hostility toward any introduction
from the West, however plain its value may be; while his gayer and more
mercurial neighbor, the Japanese, is regarded as the true child of the
old age of the West, following assiduously in its parent's footsteps,
and pursuing obediently the path marked out by European experience.
There is considerable misconception in this, as indeed there is at
all times in the English popular mind with regard to strange peoples.
Broadly speaking, it is no doubt correct to say that, Japan has adopted
Western inventions and scientific appliances with avidity; that she
has shown a desire for change which is abnormal, and a disposition to
destroy her charts and sail away into unsurveyed seas, while China
remains pretty much where she always was. She is now, with some
exceptions, what she was twenty, two hundred, perhaps two thousand years
ago, while a new Japan has been created in fifteen years. All this, we
say, is true, but it is not the whole truth. China also has had her
changes; not indeed so marked or rapid, not so much in the nature of a
_volte-face_ on all her past as those of her neighbor.
The radical difference between the two countries in this respect we take
to be this: that while Japan loves change for the sake of change, China
dislikes it, and will only adopt it when it is clearly demonstrated to
her that change is absolutely necessary. To the Japanese change appears
to be a delightful excitement, to the Chinese a distasteful necessity;
to the former whatever is must be wrong, to the latter whatever is is
right. As a consequence of this difference between the two peoples, when
China once makes a step forward it is generally after much deliberation,
and is never retraced. Japan is constantly undertaking new schemes
with little care or thought for the morrow, but with the applause of
injudicious foreign friends. In a short time she discovers that she has
underrated the expense or exaggerated the results, and her projects
are straightway abandoned as rapidly and thoughtlessly as they were
commenced. Swift suggested as a suitable subject for a philosophical
writer a history of human projects which were never carried out; the
historian of modern Japan finds these at every turn. Where, for example,
are the results of the great surveys, trigonometrical and others, which
were commenced in Yezo and the main island about ten years ago? A large,
expensive, but highly competent foreign staff was engaged, and worked
for a few years; but suddenly the whole survey department was swept
away, and the valuable instruments are, or were recently, lying rusting
in a warehouse in Tokio. The same story may be told of scores of other
scientific or educational undertakings in Japan. An able and careful
writer, Col. H.S. Palmer, R.E., who has recently, with a friendly and
sympathetic eye, examined the whole field of recent Japanese progress,
in the _British_ _Quarterly Review_ is forced to acknowledge this. "Once
having recognized," says this officer, "that progress is essential to
welfare, and having resolved, first among the nations of the East, to
throw off past traditions and mould their civilization after that of
Western countries, it was not in the nature of the lively and impulsive
Japanese to advance along the path of reform with the calmness and
circumspection that might have been possible to a people of less active
temperament. Without doubt many foreign institutions were at first
adopted rather too hastily, and the passing difficulties which now beset
Japan are to some extent the inevitable result." It would be blindness
to deny that the net result of the Japanese efforts is progress of a
very remarkable kind, but it is a progress which in many respects lacks
the firm and abiding characteristics of Chinese movements.
The proverb, _Chi va piano va sano_, which was recommended ten years ago
to Japanese attention by an eminent English official, and apparently
disregarded by them, has been adopted by their continental neighbors.
To the blandishments of pushing diplomatists or acute promoters, the
Chinese are deaf. However we may felicitate ourselves on our inventions,
scientific appliances, "the railway and the steamship and the thoughts
that shake mankind," our progress, the newspapers, the penny post, and
what not, China will not adopt them simply because _we_ have found
their value and are proud of them. But if, within the range of her own
experience, she finds the advantage of these things, she will employ
them with a rapidity and decision surpassing those of the Japanese. A
conspicuous instance of this will be found in her recent action with
respect to telegraphs. For years the Chinese steadily refused to have
anything to do with them; the small land line which connected the
foreign community of Shanghai with the outer world, was maintained
against the violent protests of the local authorities, and the cable
companies experienced some difficulty in getting permission to land
their cables. But during the winter of 1870-80, when war with Russia
was threatened, the value of telegraphs was demonstrated to the Peking
government. The Peiho at Tientsin was closed by ice against steamers,
and news could only be carried to the capital by overland couriers from
Shanghai. Before a year elapsed a land line of telegraph was being
constructed between this port and Tientsin; in a few months the line
was in working order, and the Chinese metropolis is now in telegraphic
communication with every capital in Europe.
This conservatism, respect for antiquity, conceit, prejudice, call it
what we will, has something in it that extorts our respect. Let us
imagine a dignified and cultivated Chinese official conversing with
a pushing Manchester or Birmingham manufacturer, who descants on the
benefits of our modern inventions. He would probably commune with
himself in this wise, whatever reply Oriental politeness would dictate
to his interviewer: "China has got on very well for some tens of
centuries without the curious things of which this foreigner speaks; she
has produced in this time statesmen, poets, philosophers, soldiers; her
people appear to have had their share of affliction, but not more than
those of Europe; why should we now turn round at the bidding of a
handful of strangers who know little of us or our country, and make
violent changes in our life and habits? A railway in a province will
throw thousands of coolies and boatmen out of employment and bring
on them misery and starvation. This foreigner says that railways and
telegraphs have been found beneficial in his country; good, let his
countrymen have them if they please, but let us rest as we are for the
present. Moreover, past events have not given us such faith in Europeans
that we should take all they say for wisdom and justice." A day will
undoubtedly come when China also will have her great mechanical and
scientific enterprises; but what we contend for here is that nothing
we can say or do will bring that time an hour nearer. European public
opinion is to China a dead letter; she refuses to plead before that
tribunal. Each step of her advance along our path must be the result of
her own reflection and experience; and our wisest policy would be to
leave her to herself to advance on it as she deems best. SINENSIS.
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