CHAPTER V

Tsinan

The capital of Shantung is a large city, containing a population of

about 150,000 inhabitants. Tsinan is a city of real beauty, owing to

the fact that there are bubbling streams in all parts of it, so that

the trees grow well. The water is singularly bright and sparkling, and

looks attractive even in the dirtiest gutters. As it comes bubbling

up in every direction there is a radiance about it which seems

untarnishable. In the very centre of the town is a temple, standing

on a terrace with fine carved balustrades round it, in front of which

is a large pond full of this bubbling water, overhung by willows--a

typical Chinese picture. On the other side of the pond is a busy

market, whence crowds soon collected round us to watch our sketching

and photographing. They were quiet and polite, and it was quite

unnecessary for the policeman to come and keep them at a distance. But

then that manœuvre gave him the advantage of an excellent view for

himself! Everywhere we found a Chinese crowd of spectators preferable

to one composed of Europeans. The market interested us greatly, having

every kind of ware for sale, from rags and silk scraps, out of which

elegant shoes are made, to all sorts of weird medicines, of which the

emblem was a life-sized, double-headed fowl, planted in the centre of

the counter. Hard by the medicine stalls was an enclosed space, where

a woman was telling a story to an interested crowd. The professional

story-teller is quite an institution here, as elsewhere in the East,

but it is rarely that a woman is seen in that capacity. In fact, women

take but small part in the business life of the country, and men do all

the selling in shops.

Not far from the market, but situated on the outskirts of the town,

is the University, a recent institution (1902), and built mainly

in European style; the professors’ houses being of two stories and

entirely un-Chinese. The entrance, however, is the usual native one

with carved and painted woodwork decorations; facing it, and crossing

a little bridge over an empty tank, was the guest-room, supposed

to be purely Chinese, but full of European lapses, in the shape of

lace curtains, wall-papers, European carpet, chairs, clock, electric

bells, and, most striking of all, a centre candelabra for the electric

light. There are lecture-rooms, libraries, museum, laboratory, and

dining-rooms, and thirty-two baths with hot and cold water laid on;

these are so popular that their use has had to be limited. Amongst the

institutions may be named a fife and drum band, and the latest novelty

is a brass band. The University is only open to the students of the

province of Shantung, and naturally the standard of Western knowledge

is still low; but there are professors of English, German, French, and

Japanese, though the respective numbers of their classes are seven,

five, five, two. At present Japanese is not so popular as it used to

be. Indeed, in the Imperial College in Kaifeng the Educational Board

has just cut out Japanese: whether this is an exceptional case I cannot

say.

The English section includes a study of European history (Freeman’s)

and political economy, but other subjects, such as geography, are

popular among students, to judge by their use of the small English

library. Curiously enough, the most popular book both here and

elsewhere is “Little Lord Fauntleroy.” Half the lectures are devoted to

Western knowledge and half to the Chinese classics, and the course of

study at present covers three years.

In connection with the scheme of education, and under the same

jurisdiction, are normal schools, secondary and primary schools. One

of the principal ones has an English headmaster, so that there will

soon be a set of students prepared to profit much better by university

training, and fitted to go to some European university later. There are

no fewer than fifteen schools and colleges, with about two thousand

five hundred students. Another interesting feature of the education

question is the opening of a girls’ school for the daughters and

wives of the officials. It was built three years ago by two Chinese

gentlemen, and they have an English teacher there. The school was

formally opened by the Literary Chancellor, and on entering he saluted

the girls deferentially, and gave them an admirable address. In the

south of China many ladies learn reading in private, but in the north

this is extremely rare, and so lately as 1902 there was not a single

girls’ school in the Empire, except the mission schools; now they are

cropping up in all directions, and the Government is taking an active

interest in all their concerns. Possibly it may be thought that it

shows this in somewhat exaggerated fashion, for a recent order has been

issued from the Education Department in Peking prohibiting the wearing

of a long fringe of hair, or “bang” as our American friends call it,

in any of the girls’ schools throughout the Empire. This fashion had

become rather general last year. It would have been of much more

practical value if all scholars had been forbidden to paint, as this

is one of the most time-wasting processes. At Tsinan the school hours

have been obliged to be fixed late because the scholars require some

hours for the morning toilette. In the girls’ schools they are now very

anxious to learn English, music, and drawing; “accomplishments” are

more valued than serious study. It is quite evident that there is no

lack of ability to learn, though the girls are called “wooden-heads”

sometimes in contempt. In the American Board School at Peking the girls

gave an admirable rendering of Wagner’s and Mendelssohn’s music in

part-singing. The piano is also very popular among the girls. Like the

boys, they have astonishing memories, and think nothing of reciting a

whole Gospel; it is even not ranked as a feat by the Chinese to know

the whole of the Bible by heart.

Tsinan is a most progressive town: it has a British postmaster, who

has organised, not to say revolutionised, the postal system of the

province. Letters now go to Peking in four days, and to Tientsin in

three and a half days; the runners carrying them reckoning to do fifty

or sixty miles at a stretch, with an average speed of three and a half

miles per hour. They receive about five shillings a week as wages. Sir

Robert Hart is responsible for the selection of postmasters, and even

in a remote place we found a very nice one who could speak a little

English. Sir Robert Hart was appointed head of the Customs Department

in 1862, and the Customs and Post-Office form part of one system.

One of the prettiest places at Tsinan is the lake, the main pleasure

resort of the Chinese. After threading our way in chairs through

incredibly dirty and narrow lanes, filled with a jostling crowd and

traffic, often brought to a standstill by a hopeless-looking _impasse_

of rickshas, barrows, beasts, and chairs, we came to a gateway, and

stepped thereout straight on to the edge of the lake, where boats,

with graceful latticed-work windows, and a broad couch to lie on in

the front, awaited passengers. Tea was ready on the table, and we set

off along one of the water highways through the tall reeds and beds

of lotus. Gorgeous kingfishers darted to and fro like a flash of

light; tiny wild-ducks bobbed up out of the water, and then scuttled

into the reeds, as we slowly made our way to the various points of

interest. The lake has been chosen as a place for putting up memorial

monuments to distinguished people, and they are certainly a singular

contrast to ours. They stand like temples on little islands, and to

the uninitiated appear to be such, with their tablets of incense and

altars. For instance, there is a fairly recent one erected in memory of

a former Governor of Shantung. Above the altar, and almost hidden by

the inscribed tablet, is a life-size seated figure of the Governor. The

head is a photograph, and the rest is a painting, but in the dim light

it required close inspection to ascertain this fact. Incense is offered

before it by any one, and not only by the members of his family, as in

ancestral worship. Opposite this building, and as part of the memorial,

is an ornate theatre, where plays are acted on public occasions.

Another recent memorial has been put up to Li Hung Chang, and it is

extremely strange. It includes a little summer-house and a rock-garden

(without rock-plants), a theatre, a house containing a tablet, altar,

&c., and a guest-house where distinguished visitors can be lodged.

This last building is two-storied, and quite European in style, perched

on an elevation with a well-built wall below it, surmounted by barbed

wire. Another little group of buildings had corrugated iron walls;

on another was a Taoist temple, where we found a travelling showman

who was exhibiting a popular cinematograph in the neighbourhood.

The Chinese frequent the lake for pleasure parties, and a good deal

of drinking goes on, not of tea only. A visit by moonlight is as

enchanting as anything that could be imagined. On one of the islands

we noticed the most fascinating of all the fascinating birdcages we

had yet seen. It was the usual round shape made in bamboo, but the

centre of the roof inside was a well-executed portrait of the handsome,

black talking bird which inhabited it. The seed- and water-pots were

of different colours and shapes, and fastened in with tiny figures of

men carved into wooden buttons. I have never been in any country where

there were so many caged birds, and where they were so well looked

after. Every cage has its well-made night-cover, and often this is

fastened down the side with neat little buttons. We continually saw men

carrying cages along the streets, taking their birds for walks, as we

do dogs. At one place we saw a man take the cage to a stream, and after

he had cleaned it out with a sort of tooth-brush, he left it in the

stream for the bird to have its bath, after which he hung it up to dry,

and whistled to the bird. The fashion of carrying birds about is said

to be for the purpose of showing that the owner is a man of leisure; as

this is now creating a good deal of ridicule, the custom is likely to

go out of fashion.

One of the interesting sights of Tsinan, which is quite up to date, is

a large camp, lighted by electricity, about two miles outside the city.

It is built like rows of little cottages; the men are well drilled,

and have to attend lectures. We found them, when they acted as our

military escort through the province, very civil, and in every way

pleasant and obliging men. A party of them was brought by an officer

to visit the mission museum, and the men were much interested in

having the various kinds of natural history and geological specimens,

models of architecture, electrical machines, steam-engines, &c.,

explained to them. Visitors are surprised to see a model of an English

cemetery, but it throws a new light on English character when the

Chinese receive an explanation of our views with regard to the dead,

and the care lavished on their last earthly dwelling-place. Models are

of great value when wisely used for dispelling misconceptions, but we

are often prevented by our insular pride from taking the trouble to

disabuse foreigners of false impressions they may have conceived of us.

One of the most attractive models is a dredge worked by electricity,

for the province of Shantung suffers terribly from the inundations of

the Yellow River, and the means used to cope with this difficulty are

wofully inadequate.

This museum was originally started by Mr. Whitewright, of the Baptist

Mission at Tsingchowfu, where the prefectural examinations used to take

place, attracting to it 10,000 or more students from all parts of the

province. When the old examination system was abolished the city of

Tsingchowfu was no longer of importance from this point of view, and

it was decided to move the Institute to the capital, Tsinan, a treaty

port whose importance, on the other hand, was rapidly increasing.

The Mission obtained an excellent site, and put up a lecture-hall to

seat six hundred persons, reception-rooms for men and for women, a

reading-room, and the museum. The first block of buildings was opened

in 1905 by the Governor, and ever since then the place has attracted an

increasing number of visitors of all kinds. In the second year of its

existence there were 187,000 admittances; at the great annual religious

festivals it is specially crowded, as thousands of pilgrims pass

through Tsinan on their way to the sacred mountain, Tai Shan. From 8.30

A.M. till 6 P.M. preaching goes on without intermission, a specially

selected staff of native preachers assisting the missionaries in this

work; for the Chinese prove themselves more able than Europeans to win

converts to Christianity.

Many of the students from the university and the schools frequent

the museum and lecture-hall, the walls of which are hung with charts

and diagrams calculated to give the thoughtful Chinaman much food

for reflection. After studying the comparative tables of commerce,

population, &c., a visitor is said to have exclaimed, “Why! the

_only_ thing that China is ahead in is population!” Lectures on

history, science, and religion are given in the hall, and are largely

attended by university students on Sunday, as, in imitation of our

Western custom, they have no classes at the university that day.

One day a week the museum is open to ladies only, and we met the wife

of the retiring Governor of the province just leaving the building

after an exhaustive examination of its contents. She was accompanied

by a considerable retinue on horseback and in chairs, not to mention a

motley crowd composed of the rag-tag and bobtail of the town, carrying

absurd little flags.

It has now been decided to attach a medical school to the Institute, as

there is none in the province, and a church is also to be built. The

American Presbyterians and the English Baptists are combining for this

medical school. The former society has had medical work here for the

last twenty-eight years, and for many years they have had a hospital

and dispensary in the eastern suburb. There is also a free dispensary

in the city, a Government affair, where the patient is at liberty to

choose either Eastern or Western treatment. The majority choose the

latter, and are treated by a German naval doctor; they are indebted

for his services to the German Government, who have lent him for this

purpose. There are already classes for medical students in connection

with several of the mission hospitals in the province, who will form an

excellent nucleus with which to start the new college. The importance

of medical mission work in China is great, not only for its own sake,

but also for the purpose of familiarising the Chinese in the most

remote corners of the Empire with the benefits of Western science and

the goodwill felt towards them by Europeans and Americans, of which

this is the practical demonstration. The two continents are about

equally represented, and there are over three hundred doctors scattered

throughout the Empire: their fame extends far beyond the limits of the

neighbourhoods where they happen to be residing. They are training

numbers of intelligent young Chinamen to carry on their work, but the

establishment of colleges to complete the training of these students is

now becoming increasingly necessary.

The work already achieved by medical missionaries in China is by no

means small or unimportant. They form an association, by means of which

the task of fixing the terminology of medical science has already been

accomplished. They have published a standard dictionary in Chinese, as

well as the latest American and English text-books on this subject.

The Chinese medical student, therefore, is not entirely dependent on

oral teaching, if he has no knowledge of English. Another branch of

this work is the organised labour of their research committee. The

geographical distribution of disease, the various forms of it prevalent

in different districts, and the methods of treatment come under

this heading. Men of undoubted ability and with the highest medical

qualifications are engaged in this work.

The Chinese Government has recognised the value of what has been

already done by its official sanction of the Union College at

Peking--the first attempt made in China to give a full medical

education.[4] The late Dowager Empress contributed to its initial cost,

and the Government has pledged itself to grant degrees to the students

who have successfully passed its examinations. There are about seventy

to a hundred students in it at the present time.

This is a somewhat long digression, but I think it will not be without

interest to readers to have a general idea of the scope of medical

mission work in China at the present time.

There is an arsenal near Tsinan, where an English officer, who had just

been allowed to see over it, told us they seemed thoroughly expert, and

able to reproduce anything they tried. They were busy making locks for

a canal, and less than a hundred miles away we passed another large

arsenal where they were busy making ammunition. The smoky chimneys were

quite suggestive of home!

The most interesting feature of our stay at the capital was an

interview with the Governor of the province, to whom we had an

introduction. His Excellency Lord Wu is an intellectual-looking

man, but worn and bowed with age. He had granted us an audience one

afternoon, and on our arrival at his _yamen_ (= official residence)

we were led through a circular doorway in the wall, into the gardens,

in which were little ponds and bridges, and an arbour made in the

shape of a boat. We waited the Governor’s coming in a summer-house,

a terrible European erection, furnished with a crimson and “Reckitt’s

blue” plush sofa and revolving chairs to match. On the table were

glasses and plates, with proverbs inscribed round them, and cups of

the type seen at a Sunday-school caterer’s. Cake, champagne, and tea

were set out on a parti-coloured table-cloth, which was ornamented

with a florid design in chain-stitch composed of every colour of the

rainbow. His Excellency soon made his appearance, accompanied by an

exquisite-looking interpreter who spoke English well--better than

he understood it, I fancy. For nearly an hour he plied us with all

sorts of questions as to my education (he had been much exercised by

F.R.S.G.S. on my Chinese visiting-card), occupation, our past and

future travels. He not only gave us good advice with regard to our

journey, but practical assistance--as we afterwards discovered--by

sending word to the magistrates on our route through the province. An

interested but somewhat ragged audience watched us from the doorway,

and the Governor’s personal attendant played with his queue, but

somehow nothing could disturb the dignified impression of the old man.

He had known Gordon, and at the time of the Boxer troubles he had sent

the missionaries safely out of the province, in direct opposition to

the orders he had received from his Government. He is a strong, good

man, and I much regretted that our conversation had to be carried on

through an interpreter, for that process is paralysing to thought,

not to mention that one had grave doubts as to the accuracy of the

interpretation. The interview lasted about an hour, and was terminated

by His Excellency inviting us to drink champagne or tea, after which he

escorted us back through the garden to our chairs.

The face of China · 第 5 / 24 章