may be likened to a sick man just entering the hospital of
constitutionalism. Unable to look after herself at this
stage, she needs careful nursing and support. Therefore
China cannot be regarded as an organized country. She is
held intact only by custom and sentiment of a peace-loving
people. But at once, should there arise discord, general
anarchy would result.
Hitherto the Chinese possessed unbounded faith and
assurance in the strength of England and her ultimate
triumph, but since the agitation by shortsighted though
well-meaning people, while some English dailies even
advocate the sending of several Chinese divisions into
Mesopotamia, this confidence has been greatly shaken.
Should China enter the war, it would prove dangerous to
her national life and injurious to the prestige of England
in the Far East. The mere desire to get China to join the
Allies is to Chinese minds a confession of the Allies'
inability to cope with Germany. Just now comes Premier
Tuan's report to the President that the Entente Powers are
coercing China to join the Allies. Already the question
has raised bitter dissensions among our statesmen. Discord
now may evoke anarchism which will arouse the two strong
but perilous elements in China, anti-foreign fanatics and
Mohammedans. Since our revolution, anti-foreign feelings
have been suppressed by us, but anti-foreign spirit lives
and may take advantage of the critical time and rise in
another Boxer movement with general massacre of
foreigners. If war is declared against any country, the
ignorant class cannot distinguish one nation from another,
and consequences would be more fatal to England, owing to
her larger interest in the Orient.
Again, the Mohammedans cannot be overlooked. To fight
against their Holy Land would be a sacrilege.
The worst results of anarchism in China, I fear, would be
dissension among the Entente Group, which would surely
mean disaster to the Entente cause. Under such conditions
and at this critical juncture, China cannot be expected to
do otherwise than maintain strict neutrality.
My motive for calling your Excellency's attention to this
injurious agitation is actuated not purely by the desire
to preserve China from anarchy and dissolution, but
prompted by my warmest sympathy for a country whose
interest I have deeply at heart, and whose integrity and
fair name I have every reason to uphold and honor.
SUN YAT SEN.
IX
THE GERMAN REPLY
The German Government has sent a reply to China's protest, a most
conciliatory note, saying that it is extremely sorry to hear that
China's shipping has suffered so greatly through the submarine warfare,
and that if China had protested sooner, had sent any word as to her
specific losses, the matter would have been looked into at once. As
China has never had any ships that navigate in European waters, or in
other seas included in the war zone, this solicitous reply was not
without irony. I quote the reply:
To the Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of
China.
Your Excellency: By the instructions of my home
government, which reached me at 7 P. M. on the 10th
instant, [March 10, 1917], I beg to forward you the
following reply to China's protest to the latest blockade
policy of Germany: The Imperial German Government
expresses its great surprise at the threat used by the
Government of the Republic of China in its note of
protest. Many other countries have also protested, but
China, which has been in friendly relations with Germany,
is the only state which has added a threat to its protest.
The surprise is doubly great because of the fact that as
China has no shipping interests in the seas of blockaded
zones, she will not suffer thereby.
The Government of the Republic of China mentions that loss
of life of Chinese citizens has occurred as the result of
the present method of war. The Imperial German Government
wishes to point out that the Government of the Republic of
China has never communicated with the Imperial Government
regarding a single case of this kind, nor has it protested
in this connection before. According to reports received
by the Imperial Government, such losses as have been
actually sustained by Chinese subjects have occurred in
the firing line while they were engaged in digging
trenches and other war service. While thus engaged, they
were exposed to the dangers inevitable to all forces
engaged in war. The fact that Germany has on several
occasions protested against the employment of Chinese
subjects for warlike purposes is evidence that the
Imperial Government has given excellent proof of its
friendly feelings towards China. In consideration of
these friendly relations the Imperial Government is
willing to treat the matter as if the threat had never
been uttered. It is reasonable for the Imperial Government
to expect that the Government of the Republic of China
will revise its views respecting the question.
Germany's enemies were the first to declare a blockade on
Germany, and the same is being persistently carried out.
It is, therefore, difficult for Germany to cancel her
blockade policy. The Imperial Government is nevertheless
willing to comply with the wishes of the Government of
China by opening negotiations to arrive at a plan for the
protection of Chinese life and property, with the view
that the end may be achieved and thereby utmost regard be
given to the shipping rights of China. The reason which
has prompted the Imperial Government to adopt this
conciliatory policy is the knowledge that, once diplomatic
relations are severed with Germany, China will not only
lose a truly good friend, but will also be entangled in
unthinkable difficulties.
In forwarding to Your Excellency the above instructions
from my home Government, I also beg to state that, if
the Government of China be willing, I am empowered to
open negotiations for the protection of the shipping
rights of China.
Imagine how disconcerting that reply must have been, since China has
never had any ships in the war zone. Still less has she had any that
have been or might possibly be sunk. With that excuse cut from under
her, she is at present under the painful suspicion that this desire to
uphold the sanctity of international law has been imposed from without.
One is almost forced to the conclusion that it is imposed by those
nations which themselves have been most flagrant violators of
international law, upon Chinese territory. But be that as it may.
So much has been happening lately, that perhaps I have forgotten to
mention a certain phase of international activity referred to in the
German reply, that is, the employment of Chinese subjects behind the
firing-lines in Europe. For a year past Chinese coolies have been
recruited for service in France, paid of course, though probably not
paid liberally, nor told frankly what they are being let in for. The
French colonies have also been drafting their subjects for work in
France. When we went down to the tropics in December, we traveled on a
ship gathering coolies, mobilized not as soldiers but as laborers. The
captain of our ship told us that up to date (December, 1916) France had
already imported some forty thousand Annamites for work in munition
factories, agricultural work, and noncombatant service behind the lines.
The ship we were on was carrying some fourteen hundred of these little
men, packed like sardines in the hold, which had been transformed into a
sort of fifth-rate lodging-house, with tiers of bunks for the
accommodation of these little coolies.
Each French ship of this particular line, going through the
Mediterranean, carries between a thousand and fourteen hundred of such
laborers; and what the effect of this will be upon the next generation
of Frenchmen remains to be seen. They were pretty, docile little
creatures, to be turned loose in villages and in the provinces, which
villages and provinces have been bereft of men these many months, and
where no race prejudice exists among the women. Many Frenchmen we have
met deplored this state of things, and its probable effect upon the
population of France. War is not very pretty, no matter from what angle
you look at it. And now that the Chinese are being imported as well, the
situation may become worse. An article entitled "China's Gift to the War
in Human Labor and Human Life," has this to say:
Of far greater menace to Chinese interests [than the
German submarine blockade] is the understanding which the
Chinese Government is contemplating to make with France,
Russia and Britain, for the despatch of laborers to
Europe. The Chinese Government wants to indulge in coolie
traffic. Bad business at any time, and worse now.
This business of sending Chinese laborers to these
countries has been going on for over a year. It is done
without regard to the interests of the people, or the wish
of the Government. The companies for organizing the
emigration were supposed to be under the inspiration of
Mr. Liang-Shih-Yi, who was sure of making a few dollars on
every coolie's head. The Chinese who have gone have been
with Chinese cognizance, but not under Chinese protection.
The business was of private or semi-official character,
not of official character.
For several months English missionaries in the province of
Shantung have been war-agents of the British Government
for securing laborers for France and England. This has
been done of late, at least, contrary to the wishes of the
Chinese provincial authorities. Thus the English, like
the Japanese in Shantung, have been going their own
free way, without regard to the Chinese Government. The
policy is bad missionary policy; the business is bad
missionary business.
However, I ask myself--I who am nothing if not fair-minded--why
shouldn't missionaries act as recruiting-agents? What's the use of
spending years converting heathen into Christians, if they are not to
act as Christians? Why should there be any scruples about enlisting
converts for a "Holy War"? They might as well "do their bit" for
civilization, Christian civilization. Besides, "the blood of the
martyrs is the seed of the Church." Moreover, the Treaty of Tientsin,
in 1858, which legalized the sale of British opium, also legalized the
practice of Christianity in China.[3]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 3: See Appendix II.]
X
DUST AND GOSSIP
I don't suppose a country can go to war, without first having a war
spirit. If the enemy doesn't rouse this spirit, doesn't provoke it, then
some one else must. The ideal war, I suppose, is the one in which the
enemy furnishes the incentive. Poor old China has now got to go to war,
but it is mighty uphill work to create the war feeling. Since Germany
has not provoked it, it must be manufactured somehow, and the task is
now devolving upon those foreign influences which will benefit if China
goes to war. They are getting to work rapidly and adroitly, but the
situation requires some diplomacy. It is so difficult to incite feeling
against one foreign nation without inciting it against them all. The
poor Chinese can't distinguish. They can't understand why they should
be especially irate against Germany at the moment, when rankling
uppermost in their minds is the recent French grab of Lao Hsi Kai, and
the still more recent deal of the Shanghai Opium Combine. It is so
difficult to fan the flame yet not cause too great a conflagration. It
requires nice discrimination, and these poor old heathen minds have a
quaint logic of their own. The game is amusing, interesting, from the
standpoint of the detached onlooker.
Roughly speaking, the people of a nation may be grouped into two
classes, the inciters and the fighters. They are not the same people, as
a rule. The inciters usually work in the rear, as noncombatants or
molders of public opinion. In China--China being what it is, in the
circumstances, and all--the noncombatants who have assumed this task of
arousing the war spirit are foreigners. A delicate task, this arousing
resentment against one set of foreigners without arousing it against
all. It means diplomacy of the first water. Thus, the foreign press is
very insistent that the Huns be got rid of. One English paper naïvely
remarks: "We do not like to see Germans free to wander about our
streets at will." Which is well enough in its way, although it must be
galling to the Chinese to have outsiders refer to the streets of China
as "ours." Americans would resent such a remark made by a foreigner
concerning the streets of New York.
If only the European nations had been as decent to China as America has
been! Then, in this crisis, China would have turned to them, been guided
by them, with the same trust that she places in America. As it is, she
distrusts all Europe to the core.
And over all this whirling dust of rumor and gossip, hatred and ill
feeling, there has been raging for the past three days a physical
dust-storm of tremendous intensity. The yellow, overhead kind, sifting
downward in clouds of powder, and covering everything, inside and out.
The China-boys about the hotel tell us with superstitious awe that when
a dust-storm lasts more than three days it is "bad joss." Such a storm,
of a week's duration, preceded the outbreak of the Chinese-Japanese
War. Every one feels uneasy, the whole atmosphere is full of
depression, tension, and suspense. One can't think or talk of anything
but this impending disaster.
This afternoon we went out for a while to forget it, if we could. We
went to the Lung Fu-Ssu, a sort of rag-fair held every ten days in the
grounds of an old temple in the East City. It's a wonderful fair,
usually, with booths and stalls stretching in every direction, and
spreading all over the ground, underfoot as well. Everything is sold at
this bazaar, everything made in China or ever made in China, to-day or
in the remote past,--porcelain, bronzes, jade, lacquer, silks,
clothing, toys, fruits, food, curios, dogs and cats. Three times a
month everything of every description finds its way to the Lung
Fu-Ssu, and three times a month all foreign Peking, to say nothing of
native Peking, finds its way to the temple grounds to look for
bargains. To-day, however, it wasn't much fun: neither the native city
nor the legation quarter were out in force, for the dust was too
thick, the air too cold.
Indefatigable bargain-hunters as we were, we could not stay long; but I
don't believe it was because of the overwhelming dust: it was just sheer
nervous anxiety to get back to the hotel for the latest news. We are all
restless and anxious, and withal feel ourselves so utterly impotent to
avert this impending calamity. Therefore, as I say, we didn't stay long
at the fair,--just long enough for me to buy a pair of little, ancient,
dilapidated stone lions, which the man assured me were of the Ming
dynasty. My first venture into Ming. They looked it, anyway, when I
bought them. I laid them at my feet in a newspaper, and--I suppose the
jolting of the rickshaw did it--when we reached the hotel, the Ming had
all rubbed off. They were stone lions of the purest plaster.
We found a note from the minister asking us in for tea, so we brushed
ourselves hastily and went over to the legation to find a large crowd
of dusty people assembled, in the beautiful, spacious drawing-rooms.
Every one was talking politics, discussing the situation fore and aft,
and, as usual, arriving nowhere. At the end of an hour there was a stir
caused by the arrival of C----, one of the young, important Members of
Parliament. He stood surrounded by an enquiring group, hands hidden up
the capacious sleeves of his crackling brocade coat, while he sucked in
his breath with hissing noises, in deference to the honorable company.
"Good news!" he exclaimed, "good news! Or so I think you'll find it! We
have just decided to break with Germany!"
There wasn't what you'd call rejoicing; instead, his rather hilarious
announcement was greeted with a sort of constrained silence. It's such a
tremendous thing for any country to declare war, and for a country in
China's position it is such a blind leap into the abyss. However, the
matter is not yet quite decided: the first vote is taken, but the final
has yet to be cast. Parliament has been sitting all day. This, of
course, merely means the severance of diplomatic relations, but the
next step must follow as the night the day.
I must tell you of an incident that occurred the other day, when we were
at tiffin at the home of some English acquaintances. But first I must
tell you about the pailows, and before that again, I must tell you of
the French ships that carry troops. I don't know where to begin, for you
must hear everything if you are to see the point.
I'll start with the pailows, those big, red lacquer memorial arches that
span the streets all over the place--arch, by the way, being a figure of
speech, since actually these arches are square, and consist of two
upright posts with a third laid horizontally across them. They are
emblazoned all over with gilded characters and sprawling dragons, and
honor some great Chinese,--erected to his memory instead of a library or
a hospital or something like that. Well, there is one pailow or memorial
arch that is not of red lacquer but of white marble, erected not in
honor of a Chinese but in honor of a foreigner, the imposing von Kettler
Memorial which spans Ha-Ta-Men Street, far out. It is a Lest-We-Forget
memorial placed in honor of Baron von Kettler, the German minister who
was killed in the Boxer uprising. Chinese characters and German letters,
carved in marble, tell the tale of von Kettler's death to all who pass
beneath. Now to the ships. Three months ago when we went down to the
tropics, we happened to travel on French ships, two of them loaded to
the gunwales with troops for France, labor battalions. The passengers, I
may mention, came off rather badly, being squeezed into exceedingly
restricted quarters in order to make room for the troops. The first ship
we were on carried a thousand, the other one twelve hundred of these
little Annamites; the number varies according to the size of the vessel.
Really, you know, I don't think it's quite fair to either, to carry both
troops and passengers on the same ship. Well, at tiffin to-day we heard
what seemed like a most astounding proposal. Our host was explaining his
plan for dealing with the von Kettler Memorial. The _Athos_ was sunk
February 17, in the Mediterranean, together with five hundred Chinese
soldiers. And here were we listening to a suggestion to erase the
inscription on the von Kettler arch, and substitute a new one dedicating
the pailow to the five hundred "Chinese" troops torpedoed by the
Germans. It seems to me rather late in the day to begin inscribing
pailows to Chinese killed by the conquering foreigner. To create the war
spirit it may be necessary to dedicate the von Kettler pailow to this
purpose, but as a precedent it seems rather unwise,--leads one into
sweeping vistas of all the pailows of China, all the thousands
innumerable of red lacquered pailows, all insufficient in their
thousands to contain the names of the still greater thousands of Chinese
slain by their European conquerors.
XI
DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS BROKEN
It's done at last. China has at last broken diplomatic relations with
Germany this fourteenth day of March, 1917. The foreign press is
triumphant, while the Chinese press is much less enthusiastic, its
rejoicings far less obvious. Here's a bit of gossip for you, blown along
with the dust of Peking. (By this time you must have discovered that
Peking dust and Peking gossip are pretty much the same thing, whirling
and blowing along together, sifting over you and into you, physically
and mentally, till you are saturated through and through.) Miss Z----
told us this; she knows every bit of rumor in Peking, from topside down:
"What _do_ you suppose happened, just two hours after the final vote was
taken, and the note despatched to the German minister announcing
China's decision? X---- [one of the Allied ministers] was seen ramping
up and down before the German legation, shaking his fist at the German
flag flying up above and shouting, 'That thing must come down! That
thing must come down!' Had two Japanese soldiers with him, they
say--where he got them heaven knows--but there he was, fairly raging,
and stomping--that's the word, stomping--up and down and shaking his
fist at the flag, and shouting that it must come down!"
"Why didn't he wait till the Chinese took it down?"
"Lord only knows, my dear! Wasn't it amusing! Could such things happen
anywhere except in Peking?"
It appears, however, that while X---- was pacing up and down before the
German legation, shaking his fist at the flag and furiously impatient at
Chinese slowness, the wily Chinese were engaged upon other, more
important matters. Hauling down the flag could wait; it was less urgent.
The astute Chinese, with admirable foresight, hastily "acquired" the
German concessions in Tientsin and Hankow for themselves--acted with
remarkable intelligence and great haste, almost undue haste, before any
of the foreign powers could "acquire" or "protect" these concessions for
themselves; put their own Chinese soldiers in possession, and with the
utmost promptness occupied these German holdings in the name of the
Republic of China. Imagine the shock! Furthermore, with the same speed,
they also seized the interned German war-ships.
Well, this is a tremendous decision for China to have reached, and the
next step, declaration of war, will be still more momentous. Opposition
is growing all the while, in spite of the rupture of diplomatic
relations, which does not mean that this country will declare war
immediately, automatically, as a matter of course. Those in favor, and
those who resist, are lining up for a tremendous struggle, and, as I
wrote you before, some say that civil war will result.
One thing stands out clearly,--our whole visit to the East has confirmed
it,--and that is that this European war had its origin in the Orient.
Supremacy in the Orient, control of the Far East--that is the underlying
cause of the struggle which is rending Europe in twain. The world does
not go to war for little stakes, for trifles. It fights for colossal
stakes, worth gambling for.
XII
WALKING ON THE WALL
Don't think that even in all this excitement our taste for shopping has
become quiescent. Far from it! Shopping freshens one up, relaxes one's
mind, makes one more keen for the next bit of rumor that comes along. We
know where all the antique-shops are situated, those along Ha-ta-Men
Street, out on Morrison Street, in the Tartar City, all those without
the Wall, and those in the Chinese City, as well as the pawnshops down
the lower part of Chi'en Men Street, the Thieves' Market, and all the
various bazaars. And we know the days on which the temple fairs are
held. We know all about them and get bargains every day, sometimes real
finds, and sometimes stone lions of the purest Ming, such as I described
a few days ago. And in the intervals, when we are not out questing on
our own, the dealers and runners from the various shops appear at our
door, bow themselves in with such ingratiating compliments that we can't
resist, and then stoop over and undo wonderful blue cotton bundles and
exhibit such treasures that there's no withstanding them. The most
irresistible of all these dealers is "Tiffany" (his Chinese name has
given way to this nickname, which is solemnly printed on his card),
dealer in jewels and jade, a giant Chinese about six feet tall, weighing
some three hundred pounds, with the smiling, innocent face of a
three-foot child! When Tiffany enters the room and squats down over his
big blue bundle, his knees spread out, he looks like a wide blue
elephant, and there is no refusing his bland, smiling, upturned face,
his gentle, "No buy. Just look-see." Then from the bundle come strings
of pearls, translucent jade of "number-one" quality, snuff-bottles fit
for a museum. The only way of getting rid of him is to tell him that a
new American lady has just arrived on the floor below, whereupon he
gathers up his treasures and goes in search of her! His method of
gaining admittance to our room is ingenious. A gentle knock, and we open
to find the doorway suffused by Tiffany.
"No want things to-day, Mr. Tiffany. No can buy."
To which comes the pleasant reply: "No want Missy buy. Come bring Missy
cumshaw."
A slender hand slips around the open door, against one side of which I
press my knee while he braces a huge foot against the other, and in the
hand lies a red leather box painted with flowers and dragons. "Present
for Missy; cumshaw," says the pleasant voice, and what can you do?
"Amelican lady you say down-stair, she buy heap pearls, so I bring Missy
cumshaw." Whereupon in he comes, with his gratitude for the American
lady, his bargains, his wheedling, and we are lost!
[Illustration: Village outside walls of Peking]
[Illustration: Fortune teller]
After some weeks of this--Tiffany and others, and our own
excursions--our room became a veritable curio-shop, and our curios were
so overlaid with spring dust which the "boys" had failed to remove
that we called in a packer one day, had everything boxed, and resolved
to buy nothing more. On this afternoon, March 16, we went over to the
legation compound to arrange with our consul for invoices, and as we
crossed the compound Dr. Reinsch appeared from his house, and came over
and spoke to us. He looked very tired and troubled, showing the strain
of the last few weeks.
"I've just had word from the Chinese Foreign Office," he said, "that the
Russian Government has been overturned!" He had no details, just the
mere fact, but the shock was so great that we forgot all about our visit
to the consul, forgot our intention to obtain an invoice; all we wanted
to do was get off and talk it over! We flew back to the hotel, simply
bursting with the news! It's so exciting, in this old, barbaric city, to
hear such news as that, so casually, from your minister! No one in the
hotel to talk to,--three o'clock, a bad hour! So we went for a walk on
the only available place for a walk that Peking affords, the top of the
wall. For you can't walk with comfort in the streets, they are too
crowded, with camels and wheelbarrows to be dodged at every turn. And as
we walked on the wall, discussing that bit of tremendous news, going
over and over again the possibilities contained in those few words, we
met other people out walking, also talking it over. The French minister
and his first-secretary came by, deeply engrossed in conversation. Some
little distance behind us came Dr. Reinsch with one of the press
correspondents. We met all diplomatic Peking walking on the wall that
afternoon, talking it over! For the wall is a good safe place for
conversations: one can't possibly be overheard, for one can see people
coming a mile off. Only foreigners may go there: the Chinese aren't
allowed on it, except the soldiers at the blockhouses by the towers. The
most frequent visitor is the baby camel owned by the American marine
guards, which comes up to browse on the weeds growing between the
stones. We once asked a marine where they found this mascot. "Stole it
first," was the reply, "and paid four dollars afterward!"
I picked up a Tientsin paper a few days ago, and was interested to read
an "Ordonnance" promulgated by the French consul-general at Tientsin. By
the terms of this decree every Chinese employed in the French concession
is obliged to have a little book containing his name, age, place of
birth, and so on, together with his photograph and finger-prints. A
duplicate _carnet_ is on file at the French police bureau in Tientsin,
and no Chinese can find employment in the concession, as cook, groom,
clerk, chauffeur, or in any other capacity, unless he is first
registered with the police. The idea of having one's finger-prints
recorded, like a common criminal, seems somehow humiliating. I imagine
there would be some comment if the Japanese enforced such regulations in
their concessions in China.
XIII
MEETING THE PRESIDENT OF CHINA
Ever since we came to Peking we have been anxious to meet the President
of China, Li Yuan Hung. Dr. Reinsch said he would arrange it for us "at
the first opportune moment." Opportune moments are scarce in Peking, as
you can well imagine; consequently we have been waiting for weeks for
such a moment to arrive, for a pause longer than usual between
impeachments and betrayals and plots of various kinds. We had waited so
long, in fact, that we had quite forgotten about it, until we came in
one day just before tiffin time, rather late, and found the whole hotel
in a blaze of excitement: we were to meet the President that afternoon!
And, what's more, best clothes were required! Really, I had not foreseen
that contingency, and therefore felt uncomfortable and self-conscious
when arrayed in my other hat, with the feather, the hat which has been
reposing in the hat-box for eight long months, waiting for just such an
emergency! Every one else, however, was in the same state of excitement
as to dress; that is, all those who like ourselves had been long in the
Orient, and whose clothes had fallen off a bit in appearance. In sharp
contrast were the newly arrived tourists with their smart new outfits,
beautiful as only Americans can be beautiful. But never mind: we
reflected that the President would never know the difference; he would
consider us all alike and all outlandish. There were others in the party
who had lived so long in Peking that they were reduced to Gillard's
best,--Gillard's, the one "department store" of the city, about on a
plane with the general store of a country village or a frontier town,
only worse. Sooner or later every one in Peking is reduced to Gillard's
Emporium, where the stocks are old-fashioned and musty, and the thing
you want has just been sold out. And if you can't get it at Gillard's,
there is nowhere else to go. Up-stairs Mrs. Gillard makes Paris gowns
on the latest models, which look all right, too, till tourist season
comes round and you see the difference. Well, finally we were all ready,
and assembled at the front door of the hotel,--the smart and beautiful
Americans; those clad in Gillard's best, and ourselves, something
intermediate. The men were upset, too: several of them had been obliged
to borrow top hats. And at the last moment a rumor spread that
ceremonial bows were required. That created such consternation that
several of us considered backing out.
We were all to meet at the Pei Hei Gate at two o'clock, so we started
early, for we had a long distance to travel. The smart Americans went in
motors, as was fitting, but the rest of us made a long procession of
rickshaws, and jogged happily along the dusty streets, out through the
gates of the legation quarter, past the North Glacis, through the gates
of the Imperial City, and finally, after half an hour's run, reached the
Pei Hei Gate, leading into the old and abandoned Winter Palace. It then
transpired that a visit to this old palace was part of the program, and
we were to wander for two hours through its beautiful and extensive
grounds, until four o'clock, when the President would receive us. Now
March is March the world over, but March in Peking is excessive. No one
who has not passed a spring in North China can know the meaning of dust.
On this clear, bright March afternoon a classic dust-storm was in
progress and in this, dressed in our best clothes, we were to wander for
two hours through the closed grounds of the Winter Palace, which had
been thrown open to us by special courtesy of the President!
They say one never realizes the meaning of the word decay until one has
seen Peking. And the climax of decay is reached here, in this former
abode of the old empress dowager, where everything remains as she left
it, or as the Boxers left it, or as the European looters left it after
the Boxer troubles. Scattered through the beautiful grounds are
magnificent buildings, all fallen into ruin. The roofs of the palaces
and temples, blazing with the imperial yellow tiles, are dropping to
pieces, and rank grass is replacing the fallen tiles and dislodging
those that are left. In one of the temples we walked through littered
débris of rich carvings, kicked against the broken heads and hands of
gilded gods fallen from the altars, and brushed against the loosened
shreds of old paintings swaying in tatters from the walls. One building
contained the remains of a once beautiful fountain, painted and
lacquered, now moldering and fallen into dust. At the four corners of
the room the old gods, life-size, had been gathered into piles and
covered with matting, and from beneath this dusty covering protruded
dirty, battered heads and gilded bodies, ludicrous and pathetic.
In the grounds it was no better. Weeds grew shoulder high, springing
from between the stones of the great courtyards and open spaces
connecting the temples and palaces, and we pushed ourselves through this
brush, and stumbled over rolling stones, all the while enveloped by the
whirling dust, the everlasting Peking dust, straight from the Gobi
Desert. All this was very disastrous to our personal appearance, and at
the end of two hours we were all reduced to pretty much the same level:
really, there wasn't much difference between the beautiful Americans,
those attired in Gillard's best, and ourselves, when we took to our
rickshaws (and motors) again and set off for the President's palace, in
the Forbidden City.
The grounds of this palace presented a much better appearance than
anything we had seen in Peking. The roads were newly swept, and
everything was very neat and clean and orderly, though bare. The lawns,
if such they could be called, were as arid and grassless as the great
plains of Chili. We arrived a few minutes before four, and descended
from our vehicles, grand and otherwise, and then a cleaning-up process
took place. Dusty shoes were brushed off with handkerchiefs, dusty coats
slapped and patted, wind-blown hair rearranged, dust cleaned out from
the corners of eyes, and powder-papers passed from hand to hand among
the women. One lady remarked cheerfully, "Well, we surely don't look
very nifty to meet the President," but we made ourselves as "nifty" as
we could, in the circumstances, standing together in a laughing group on
the lee side of the palace, and asking one another if we'd do. I
remember that once, years ago, when I was living in the Latin Quarter,
some of us went over to a tea on "the other side," and before pulling
the door-bell, we stood first on one foot and then on the other,
polishing our dusty shoes on our stockings. Well, here we were doing the
same thing, before meeting the President of China!
We got clean at last, and then soberly marched round the corner of the
building and presented ourselves in the anteroom of the palace, leading
to the President's apartments. Here we found Dr. Reinsch waiting for us,
and he sorted us into groups of eight, and left us waiting till the
summons came. In former times the mandarins used to wait in this
anteroom, before an audience with the empress dowager, and we tried to
imagine the big bare room of to-day filled with these high officials in
their gorgeous robes. Nothing remains of the old glories of the palace
save the elaborate carving on wall and ceiling, and a few pieces of
magnificent old furniture. The ceiling is now disfigured with a gaudy,
cheap European chandelier, while standing here and there on beautiful
ebony tables are hideous modern vases, straight from the
five-and-ten-cent store. The floor was covered with ugly oilcloth. Such
is China modernized, imbued with Western culture.
Our group of eight was the first to be called, and Dr. Reinsch led the
way with an interpreter. We passed out of the antechamber and along an
open marble corridor, lined with Chinese soldiers in their padded gray
cotton uniforms, who stood at salute as the American minister passed.
Immediately we found ourselves in another room, also plainly furnished,
and the next moment were shaking hands with an unassuming little man
clad in a frock-coat, the President, Li Yuan Hung. Through the
interpreter the President explained that he would like us to pass into
the room beyond, where he could speak with us one by one, personally.
He waved his hand toward the other room, and my recollection is that we
led the way! It all happened so quickly, I can't remember; but somehow
our group seemed to be waiting in the other room when the President and
Dr. Reinsch arrived at our heels, a second later. However, you can't
expect people not brought up in courts to know much about such things,
and we were probably flustered, anyway.
[Illustration: Courtesy of Press Illustrating Service
President Li Yuan-Hung]
[Illustration: Entrance to Winter Palace]
President Li, Dr. Reinsch, and the interpreter stood together, while we
arranged ourselves in a semicircle round them, and then Dr. Reinsch
presented each one of us in turn, explained who each one was, or what he
or she represented or had been doing. He began with the Allens,--told
who Mr. Allen was, what big American interests he represented, why he
had come out to China, and all about it. Then the interpreter repeated
all this to the President, who meanwhile stood looking inquiringly at
the Allens, as did the rest of us. When the translation was finished,
Li replied in Chinese; they say he can speak English, but
imperfectly, and he did not attempt it. "When quality meets, compliments
pass." Dr. Reinsch said all manner of nice things about the Allens and
China, and the President said all sorts of nice things about the Allens
and America, and it all took some time, just disposing of the first two
of our party. Meanwhile, two servants came in with a tray of champagne
and plates of cakes, and we all stood with a glass in one hand and a
cake in the other, waiting to see what Mr. Allen would do when the
President finished telling him how glad he was he had come to China.
Mr. Allen rose to it, however, in a happy little speech, saying that it
was a privilege, and so on.
Then came our turn. We were anxiously wondering what Dr. Reinsch could
find to say about us two, having committed himself by introducing the
whole group at one swoop as "representative Americans." However, we were
both exceedingly pleased at what he did say, and the President was
pleased, too, apparently, for he replied that he was glad we were like
that. So it continued all round the circle, and we felt exactly as if it
were the Day of Judgment, and the secrets of all hearts were being
revealed: we thought we knew our friends pretty well, and all about
them; yet we hung with bated breath upon Dr. Reinsch's introduction or
send-off! And we had never understood the meaning of "true Oriental
politeness" until we heard the President's gracious, courteous welcome
in reply. We stood directly opposite him, and had a good opportunity to
observe him closely,--a short, thick-set man with a small mustache, much
darker than the usual Chinese type, owing to his heritage of Siamese
blood. Many people say he has no Siamese blood at all, but it is always
like that in China: whatever any one tells you is always flatly
contradicted by the next person you meet.
Then we committed a great _gaffe_! When the Allens and E---- and I had
been safely disposed of, and the introductions and interpretations were
being directed toward the other four members of the party, we drank
our champagne--we four, the Allens and ourselves! I think it was
because we did not know what else to do with it, having stood stiffly
at attention for some twenty minutes, trying to balance a very full
glass in one hand, and conscious that the sugary cake in the other was
fast melting. Anyway, we emptied our glasses, and set them down on a
table behind us, and ate the cakes as well. Then, to our horror, Dr.
Reinsch summed us all up again, collectively, in a graceful little
speech, and the President raised his glass, and bowing, drank our
health. I heard E---- whisper, "The glasses, quick!" and the Allens and
she and I hastily groped backward for the empty glasses on the table
behind us, and drained the few remaining drops with what manners we
could muster. After which we all shook hands with the President again,
and filed out of the room.
In the anteroom the rest of the party crowded round us, asking for tips.
We had two big ones to offer: _Don't_ lead the way for the President of
China, and don't touch your glasses till he raises his!
XIV
GREAT BRITAIN'S TWELVE DEMANDS
The scaffolding is being put up for more trouble. China has got to
declare war, and to do it soon. It took five weeks' manoeuvering to make
her break diplomatic relations and will probably take much longer to
induce her to take this next step, opposition to which is growing
stronger and more intense every day. The President is obstinately
opposed to it, and he has considerable backing. There is free talk about
a revolution occurring if the break takes place, so determined are
certain leaders not to be dominated by "foreign influence." Many Chinese
can be bribed, but the Chinese in general cannot be fooled, and no
glowing compliments about China's "masculine" attitude can deceive them
as to the yoke they must wear should they decide to surrender
themselves and place their nation at the disposal of European interests.
On the morning of March 26 one of the papers contained this significant
article, under the caption of Tibetan Affairs:
Reported British Demands. Indignation of Chinese M. P.'s.
Mr. Ho Sheng-Ping and other Senators have addressed the
following interpellation to the Government: "According to
the reports of the Japanese newspapers, the British
Government has sent Twelve Demands to the Chinese
Government in connection with Tibetan affairs, and these
demands, being so cruel and unreasonable, tend to provoke
the anger and indignation of any people. Why did we
address a protest to the German Government against its
submarine warfare? And why did we declare diplomatic
severance with Germany? Was it not to render assistance to
the Entente Powers, and was it not to render direct help
to Great Britain? We are, indeed, surprised at these
British Demands appearing in the newspapers. In accordance
with the provisions laid down in Article 19 of the
Provisional Constitution, we hereby demand that a reply be
given within five days as to the true nature of the
reported Demands, and the attitude of the Government
towards them."
The Demands from Great Britain as reported in the Japanese
newspapers are as follows:
1 Great Britain shall have the right to construct railways
between India and Tibet.
2 The Chinese Government shall contract loans from the
British Government for the improvement of the
administration of Tibet.
3 The treaty obligations between Tibet and Great Britain
shall be considered valid as heretofore.
4 British experts shall be engaged for the industrial
enterprises of Tibet.
5 China shall secure the redemption of loans contracted
from the British people by the Tibetans.
6 Neither China nor Great Britain shall send troops to
Tibet without reason.
7 The Chinese Government shall not appoint or dismiss
officials in Tibet on its own responsibility.
8 The British Government shall be allowed to establish
telegraph lines in Lhassa, Chiangchu, Chamutao, etc.
9 British postal service shall be introduced in Lhassa and
other places.
10 China shall not interfere with the actions of the
British Government in Tibet.
11 No privileges or interests in Tibet shall be granted to
other nations.
12 All mines in Tibet shall be jointly worked by the
British and Chinese Governments.
These Twelve Demands, which the Chinese M. P.'s resent so hotly, which
they quaintly term "cruel and unreasonable," virtually amount to the
annexation of Tibet by the British Government. It is amusing to think
that it was the Japanese press which first gave them publicity. We are
so accustomed to hearing of the famous Twenty-one Demands of Japan that
we fail to realize that other nations make demands equally sweeping and
equally arbitrary. Of course, these British demands will not receive the
world-wide attention accorded those of Japan. Remember, over here it is
not customary to think of or speak of anything but "Japanese
aggression." Japan, you see, offers the only stumbling-block to the
complete domination of the Orient by Europe. But for Japan--China might
possibly become another India. And the Japanese, facing race
discrimination and exclusion from most of the European countries, and
many of their colonies, as well as America, cannot afford to have China
under European control. It is a question of self-preservation.
We were dining the other evening with a Chinese gentleman, of high
position, who invited us to dinner at an old and very famous restaurant
outside the palace gates. It was at this restaurant, in the days of the
dowager empress, that the Mandarins used to assemble every night while
waiting for the imperial edicts to be issued from the palace. And as the
edicts frequently did not appear until two or three in the morning, they
comforted themselves, during this long wait, with much fine and delicate
food cooked in the fine and delicate manner that even French cooks
cannot excel. And if the cooking in those days was as delicious as at
present, they passed the time very pleasantly, and did very well by
themselves, those old officials.
It was a bitterly cold night, and the dark street in front of the
restaurant was crowded with a motley array of rickshaws, Peking carts,
and motors, through which we made our way by the light of a bobbing
lantern. We entered a crowded, noisy kitchen, filled with rushing
waiters and shouting cooks bending over charcoal fires. In contrast to
the freezing wind outside the air was deliciously warm, redolent with
the fumes of charcoal and the aroma of savory exotic food. Our table was
waiting for us in a private dining-room; the whole place consists of
private dining-rooms, separated by good thick stone walls, so that one
can't hear the plots and intrigues being hatched next door, though the
din in the open courtyard caused by the scrambling, yelling waiters
would make that impossible, in any event. The room had a stone floor,
and was unheated, only a little less cold than outdoors. Inadvertently,
we took off our wraps,--not all, only two or three; for we are becoming
quite Chinese in our manner of putting one coat on over another. We put
them all on again, however, at the end of the second course, for the
draughty windows and the door constantly swinging open into the
courtyard made all our warm things indispensable.
Our Chinese gentleman gave us a "number-one" dinner, and a number-one
dinner always begins with bird's-nest soup, the greatest delicacy a
Chinese can offer; also, the most expensive. Well, we began with it, and
truly it is "number-one"--gelatinous, delicate, with an exquisite flavor
altogether indescribable. Then followed the other courses. As this
dinner was given to foreigners, we had only twelve courses, whereas the
usual Chinese dinners run up into the dozens; "forty curses" they are
sometimes called by unwary foreigners who have tried to eat their way
through a whole meal. The courses come on and on, endlessly; but the
proper Chinese custom is that you leave when you have had enough, say
four or five. You aren't supposed to sit through an entire meal. Our
host told us that he had been to three dinners that evening, before this
one, and was expecting to go to one or two more. We felt rather uneasy
when he told us this, and thought we ought to be going, ourselves; but
he hastily explained that this dinner, given in our honor, was not long
and that we must go through all of it. Very easy going, I must say!
After the bird's-nest soup came shark fins, another delicacy and also
delicious. Then fish, then soup of another kind, then powdered chicken,
then duck and rice, then cake, then shell-fish, then more duck, then
lotus-flower soup, and finally fruit and coffee. As each wonderful dish
succeeded the other our host apologized profusely, deprecating its poor
quality and miserable manner of preparation. We protested vehemently,
with enthusiasm. This also is Chinese etiquette, it seems, for the host
to denounce each dish, while the guests eat themselves to a standstill.
It all took a long time, for we managed our chop-sticks badly;
nevertheless, in spite of this handicap, we finished every marvelous
course placed before us. A tea-pot of hot sake did something to keep the
creeping chill out of our bones, but very little: the thimble-like sake
cups contained only a few drops, and one doesn't like to ask for the
tea-pot more than seventeen times! During the meal. Mr. Y----
entertained us with many side-lights on the political situation, and we
finally asked him to explain the meaning of the Twelve British Demands.
He replied promptly, emphatically.
"They are a threat," he said, "a form of coercion, to make us take the
next step, to declare war. If we declare war, they will be withdrawn. We
are familiar with them. They have appeared before, when it was
necessary."
XV
CONCLUSION
On the first of April we are going to leave Peking, to leave China alone
to her fate! We have had enough of it, and are just about worn out with
the strain on our sympathies. Opposition to a declaration of war is
growing daily, and so are rumors of a revolution. But a revolution is
just what is needed,--a revolution which will unseat those who are
opposed to the war, and which will place in power a group of officials
submissive and subservient to European influence. A revolution will
offer the grand, final excuse for the "protection" of China, by Europe.
You will see; mark my words. Only, of course, Japan will not be the
power that sets in order this disturbed country. Never Japan, the great
commercial competitor. For by this time you must surely understand that
Japanese aggression is immoral and reprehensible, whereas European
aggression or "civilization" is the fate to which the Orient is
predestined. The world contains a double standard of international
justice, for the East and the West.
At least we are glad to have been in China during these distressful
days, just to see how they do it. With the attention of the world
centered on Europe, things are taking place out here which could not
possibly occur were the world free to know of them, and judge. But in
the safe seclusion of Oriental isolation all things are now possible.
Back of the war, behind the war, ugly things are going on, which will be
all finished and done with and safely accomplished by the time the war
is over. This war for civilization is all that "civilization" requires
in the way of opportunity in the Orient.
So we are going to leave Peking, gorgeous, barbaric Peking, with its
whirling clouds of gossip and its whirling clouds of dust. We are
stifled by them both. We are going to Japan to see cherry-blossoms.
APPENDIXES
APPENDIX I
This despatch appeared in "The New York Times," the last of July or the
first part of August, 1918:
FEAR OPIUM TRADE REVIVAL IN CHINA
BRITISH PROTEST LODGED AGAINST LARGE TRACT OF POPPY UNDER
CULTIVATION IN SHENSI. GOVERNMENT IS HELPLESS. AREA IS
PRACTICALLY RULED BY BANDITS. MAY TRY TO ENFORCE THE LAW.
_From a Special Correspondent. Peking, May 27, 1918:_
One of the very few things which China has done well
is the suppression of the opium practice with all its
baneful influences. Under the spur of enlightened foreign
opinion, the Chinese have rid themselves of opium much
earlier than was arranged for, and in their thoroughness
actually defied conventions to which the British
Government was a party.
This in other circumstances might have awkward
consequences. But those who took the risk knew that the
British people would not tolerate the continuance of
opium importation into China even if it did involve the
violation of certain agreements.
For several years now China has been certified as free,
that is to say, the cultivation of the poppy has been
entirely discontinued. Of course the habit has not been
completely eliminated--that takes time--and the fact that
a demand for the drug exists is sufficient temptation for
greedy officials and unscrupulous speculators to connive
at renewed attempts to cultivate the poppy and resume
its sale and use.
The state of lawlessness which prevails in China invites
disregard of authority, especially when it affords
lucrative possibilities, and the continued enfeeblement of
the administration in Peking contributes to conditions
favoring the resumption of the traffic in opium.
It is not surprising, therefore, to learn that reports
have been received by the British Legation in Peking, of
large tracts being under poppy cultivation in Shensi, a
province where lawlessness is rampant, and where the
unfortunate residents are harassed, plundered and
murdered by large roving bands of Tufei, the Chinese
equivalent for robbers or thieves. The reports come
from missionaries and foreign travellers and naturally
they could not be ignored.
Accordingly, the British Minister has lodged a protest
with the Chinese Government. _Under the Opium Convention,
Indian opium may be imported into China as long as the
poppy is cultivated in China. That is the legal aspect_,
but in these days of higher ideals, it may be presumed
that Sir John Jordan and the British Government, which he
represents, are more concerned with the moral aspect. _His
protest is not made in the interests of Indian opium_, but
in the hope that the national regeneration from a former
vice should not suffer a relapse.
The reply of the Chinese Government is not known, but it
is safe to infer that assurance would be given that orders
would be issued to the provincial authorities to enforce
the law prohibiting the cultivation of the poppy. Whether
these orders will be obeyed is not so certain.
Gone are the days when edicts from Peking concluded with
the warning, "tremble and obey." Then they were heeded,
but now the authority of the Government does not seem to
extend beyond the metropolitan area, and however ready the
administration may be to suppress poppy cultivation, it is
unable to control the more distant feudal tachuns. How
then, can a Government be held responsible when it is not
in a position to enforce its authority? This problem meets
the treaty powers at every turn. One or several must act
as did Alexander the Great when he cut the Gordian knot.
Who or which shall it be?
From an article in the "North China Herald," dated September 14, 1918:
The Government [Chinese] after concluding the opium deal,
farmed the right to sell the drug in Chekiang, Hupeh
and Kiangsu, to a specially formed company, called
the Hsichi Company.
We read further in the article that the Hsichi Company bought opium from
the Chinese Government at the rate of 10,000 taels per chest, which it
sells to district farmers at 23,000 taels per chest, and these latter
retail it to drug-stores or consumers at 27,000 taels per chest.
From Millard's "Review of the Far East," October 12, 1918:
It would be advisable for the Peking government to
seriously consider the notes addressed to it on the
subject of opium by the British and American governments.
The trade in opium cannot any more be successfully revived
in China than could the African slave trade, and if Peking
proposes to make a few dollars by the sale of the
over-plus opium stock at Shanghai the venture is
dangerous. Only a few years ago China gave her pledge, in
the presence of the assembled nations at The Hague, that
the poppy plant should never again be cultivated within
her borders, nor would the traffic in opium be tolerated,
and in the notes from the British and American governments
the pledge given at The Hague is brought directly to the
attention of those in authority at Peking. The two Western
governments named would hardly have taken such concurrent
action without a significant meaning, and a meaning which
Peking will not be permitted to treat with indifference
and impunity. It is certainly not the policy of either
British or American governments to interfere in the
domestic affairs of China, but both of those governments
do intend that no business shall be carried on as
demoralizing and offensive to the moral sense of the world
as the business of debauching and drugging with opium.
London and Washington really do not appear to be fully
enlightened as to conditions at Peking and the motives and
inspirations influencing officials in that Capital, and a
reformation there is as much needed as in Russia. It may
be written that at no time in Chinese history, during the
past two hundred years, has the name of China been so
disparaged and her reputation besmirched. Representatives
of the Allied nations and America are in Russia charged
with the duty of aiding in bringing about the unity of the
Russian people that they may establish a stable
government, and representatives of a similar character for
a like purpose are as much needed in China. Russia will
soon have a stable government, the choice of her people,
but China promises to go on unsettled so long as Peking
governs as at present.
From the "New York Times," November 25, 1918:
CHINA TO DESTROY OPIUM
1,200 CHESTS TO BE BURNED IN DEFERENCE TO ALLIED
REPRESENTATIONS
Copyright, 1918, by The New York Times Company. Special
Cable to "The New York Times."
PEKING, Nov. 23.--The Government has decided to destroy
the remaining stocks of opium in Shanghai in deference to
Anglo-American representations. Three hundred chests have
been sold, and 1,200 will be burned in presence of the
allied representatives, the Government making a virtue
of necessity.
America to the rescue! It must have been a close squeak for poor old
China.
APPENDIX II
From the "New York Medical Record," October 12, 1918:
THE ORIGIN OF THE SO-CALLED "SPANISH INFLUENZA"
BY JAMES JOSEPH KING, A.B., M.D.
NEW YORK
CAPTAIN MEDICAL CORPS, U. S. ARMY
We desire to present in this preliminary note a
consideration of the similarity of the present epidemic to
the epidemic of pneumonic plague which broke out in
Harbin, China, in October, 1910, and spread rapidly and
continuously throughout Northern China at that time; and
to suggest that this epidemic may be the same disease
modified by racial and topographical differences. The
origin of this epidemic was suggested to the writer soon
after its outbreak in our camps by Mr. Guy M. Walker, an
eminent American authority on Chinese affairs. This
suggestion led to an investigation of the reports of the
pneumonic plague in China and there is sufficient likeness
of that epidemic to the present one prevailing in our
cities and army camps to warrant a consideration of it.
In the latter part of 1910 the pneumonic plague first
appeared in Harbin a town in Manchuria under Chinese
control. Harbin is on the Trans-Siberian Railroad, and was
the original hotbed of the disease. The plague had
prevailed in Russia previous to November, 1910, but the
Russians, alert to its danger, took immediate action and
stamped it out. It was believed that the plague was
carried into Harbin by the fur dealers and by the Chinese
laborers returning to their homes to celebrate New Year's
Day, a custom universally observed in China. From Harbin
the plague rapidly spread in all directions, usually
following the lines of traffic along the railroads. It
spread as far south as Chefu, a seaport town, probably
having been carried there by Chinese coolies returning
from the north.
* * * * *
This plague has been very serious. The mortality has been
fearfully high. It has spread throughout China. Wherever
the Chinese coolies from the North have traveled they have
carried this disease. From 1910 up to 1917 China has not
been free from it. The writer has heard of several cases
being present in Peking last year.
In the early part of 1917, about 200,000 Chinese coolies,
collected from the northern part of China, where the
pneumonic plague has raged at intervals since 1910, were
sent to France as laborers. Part of them were sent around
through the Mediterranean; some, perhaps the majority,
were sent across the Pacific, and then through Canada and
America, to be transported across the Atlantic to France.
Trainloads of these coolies were sent in solid trains
across the United States to New York and thence to France.
They made splendid laborers in France, and were in back of
the lines during the German drive of March, 1918. No doubt
many of them were captured by the Germans at that time.
Hence the outbreak of it in the German army and its rapid
spread in Spain.
So far as we know, this disease first broke out last
spring, in the German army, where it is said to have been
very serious. We next heard of it in Spain, hence the name
Spanish influenza. The name is really a misnomer, but it
has stuck probably because it is the first epidemic of
influenza that Spain has ever had. Since our soldiers and
sailors have been returning from the battlefields of
France it has become very prevalent and serious in our
camps and cities all over this country.
* * * * *
... It seems possible that the _Bacillus pestis_ may have
been present in a non-virulent state in the Chinese
coolies, and assumed new virulence, vigor, and a somewhat
different form, when transplanted into virgin soil. The
high mortality and infectivity of this epidemic strongly
suggest it.
On this basis the epidemics which have followed all great
wars may be explained. If a nation or tribe can survive
any disease long enough it will acquire immunity to that
disease. When, however, foreign people commingle freely
and intimately, as in war, epidemics will break out. The
inactive, non-virulent organisms in one race will become
virulent in some other race which has not acquired
immunity to that specific organism.
Transcriber's Notes:
Author's name is spelled LaMotte (title page) or La Motte (cover and
introduction). The appearance of the original text has been preserved in
each case.
List of illustrations, 5th entry, "Peking car" changed to "Peking cart"
to match caption under illustration.
Inconsistent hyphenation of words in text preserved. This occurs
mainly in the transliteration of Chinese names. (Lao-Hsi-Kai, Lao Hsi
Kai; Li Yuan-Hung, Li Yuan Hung; Shan-tung, Shantung)
Abbreviations: sometimes a space between letters, sometimes not, the
appearance of the original text is preserved. (P. M., M. P., U. S.,
A.B., M.D.)
Page 37, closing quote mark added. (Not much," he replied)
Page 149, extra period removed. (motives of the Allies.)
Page 220, non-standard spelling "manoeuvering" preserved. (weeks'
manoeuvering to make)