with vessels laden with the products of distant provinces, and the people are ruled by a system of government which has lasted for four and twenty centuries, and which, in spite of egregious faults in administration, metes out a rough kind of justice to them. As a nation, they are self-contained, and ask for nothing from foreign countries except to be left alone. Foreigners have, therefore, always stood at a distinct disadvantage with regard to them. They have been suppliants throughout, and have stood cap in hand at the portals of China begging for the privilege of commercial relations with her. The first settlers, under the auspices of the East India Company, submitted to every species. of political degradation and insult, in order to secure the export of the teas and silks of China to the markets of Europe, and the recollection of this attitude has encouraged the Chinese, in spite of two wars, to regard us much as their fathers. regarded the settlers in the factories at Canton. Even at the present time, though our position is not by any means what it was, there still remains a certain leaven of the old deferential air about us.

So long as the conduct of affairs rested mainly in the hands of the consuls and naval authorities at the treaty ports, the provincial mandarins were compelled to act more or less in harmony with their treaty obligations, the inevitable gunboat exercising a wholesome terror over them. With the establishment of the foreign legations at Peking began a new chapter of misfortunes, and the contrast between the former condition of things and that which now prevails, cannot be better exemplified than by a comparison of the results of the

action taken at Yangchow after the riot in 1868, with those obtained in consequence of the outbreaks on the Yang-tsze in 1891. Although the English legation had been already established at Peking, Mr. Medhurst, the English consul at Shanghai, was sent to Yangchow with a naval force to demand redress on the spot. Full compensation for the destruction of the mission property was readily given, and the most satisfactory relations have existed between the missionaries and the natives of the city since that time. What happened on the Yang-tsze in 1891 has been recounted above, and rumours are already afloat of a revival of the anti-foreign crusade.

The desire to establish relations with the central Government was a very natural one, but the mistake lay in the supposition that the Tsungli Yamun could be treated on the same terms as the Quai d'Orsay, or the Foreign Office at Berlin. For the effective transaction of international affairs, a certain modicum of good faith on both sides is essential. That modicum has never been shown by the Chinese Government. After fifteen years' experience in the capital, Sir T. Wade reported to the Foreign Office that the native statesmen were as anti-foreign as they ever had been; and only two years ago the foreign ministers at Peking declared in conclave that "no faith could be put in the assurances of the Chinese Government." Martially weak, the Chinese Government falls back on the weapons at its disposal. What poison is to the snake, what the claws are to a cat, what the ink is to the cuttle-fish, craft and dissimulation are to the Chinese. When pitted against

officials who are so armed, Englishmen, who happily are prisoners of their word, must be always at a disadvantage. In face of such disingenuous statesmen as those of the Tsungli Yamun, our true policy is to demand the execution of our treaty rights to the full letter of the law, and to ignore the excuses and evasions with which they invariably attempt to avoid carrying out their engagements. It is only by persistently pursuing this policy that we can hope to avoid the constant friction which arises from the present weakness of our policy and from the bad faith of the Chinese Government.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE AUDIENCE QUESTION.

THE audience question has occupied a prominent place in recent negotiations with China, and probably many people are surprised that so ordinary a matter should have been so constantly a subject of debate. But Chinese ways are not our ways, and a ceremony which among civilized nations is regarded as a common act of courtesy between sovereigns, has in China become complicated by the absurd pretensions of the Government to a superiority over all the world. Like a spoilt heir who has been brought up in secluded surroundings, the Chinese have long been surfeited with dominion and glory in the midst of neighbouring tribes, who stand on a lower level of civilization than that which

they occupy. In the long history of the empire such an event as an ambassador being received as representing a sovereign on terms of equality with the emperor, has never been known; and this pretension to supremacy, which materially contributes to the maintenance of the power which the empire possesses, enters into the life of the nation and is, to a great extent, a matter of life and death in its present unregenerate state. The proposal, therefore, that the foreign ministers resident in Peking should

be received in the manner common in civilized countries, has been persistently combated by the mandarins. It must be confessed that precedent has been in their favour. The Portuguese and Dutch ambassadors, who visited Peking in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, all submitted to the degradation of appearing as envoys of tributaries at the court of the Son of Heaven.

From an account given of the mission of Alexander Metello de Sousa Menezes, in 1727, we learn that at the audience granted to him by the Emperor Yungch'êng, "his excellency entered the western gates [of the reception hall], ascended the steps of the throne, and, kneeling, presented his credentials; he then rose, went out by the same way, and in front of the middle door that was open the ambassador and retinue performed the usual act of obedience," i.e. knelt and struck their heads on the ground nine times. About a century earlier a Dutch embassy was treated with even greater contempt. The ambassador and his staff met "with a vile reception and degrading treatment. They were required to humiliate themselves at least thirty different times; at each of which they were obliged, on their knees, to knock their heads nine times against the ground, which," adds Barrow, in his "Travels in China," "Mr. Van Braams, in his journal, very coolly calls performing the salute of honour."

Lord Macartney, in 1793, had the honour of being the first who refused to submit to this degrading ceremony. Happily at this time a sovereign was on the throne who had sufficient independence to sanction a departure from the ordinary routine, and